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evenmorefatallyobsessed · 2 years ago

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Prof. Gelé AU Concept

To be clear this isn't the only Au/ comic I'll put the model in but it is the one that comes to mind for me most often.

Bleiss is born into the previous generation to RWBY's main characters like Jaune was in my Prof. Arc AU, also like him she became Glynda's partner.

There wasn't really much to say about Bleiss, not really. She Nicholas Schnee's second born daughter. She had talent, beauty and a fierce intellect. But she was also a rebellious teen with a chip on her shoulder towards Atlas.

After that one snake in the grass tried to coil around her what was his name again Assques? Anyways she broke his nose, stole his date and the next day sick of this Atlas high Society shit she left to be a Huntress in Vale, to live her own life how she pleased, free from the SDC.

And Bleiss didn't just manage she fucking flourished! Made a cute friend and admittedly unrequited love named Summer, the best drinking buddy ever in a Branwen called Qrow and finally a bitch she could count to cover her back in Glynda...

Yeah admittedly the two didn't get along too well at first... Okay more like their first two years but whatever. Anyways Bleiss fucking loved her life, shit even turned out she had a knack for this teaching shit.

though only for Hunter Academies, combat school parents were always complaining bout their brats picking up some of her awesome habits.

She loved her students, some more the others specifically of the cute girl variety. Gawd did she love putting that brat Coco in her place. She'd have to do it again soon, the girl had been a bit too cocky recently with her fellow students after all.

But for now there were mors important things to deal with. Some fuckers had attacked Amber, she might not have fucked the girl or anything but she was a former student and nobody fucked with the brats she trained, graduated or not.

So she was suprised when the Malachites called her. The pair of girls she trained both on fighting and in bed having been excited over beating Ray's fucking brat who tried to wreck her favorite club. Thank god she gave them a few lessons on fighting from time to time.

Anyways apparently Junior got some kid some fake transcripts. A part of her wanted to grab the suspicious brat and throw him in a cell to interrogate. Too coincidental that someone attacks Amber, steals half her fucking soul and now someone else is trying to sneak into where they just so happen to have her.

So she makes it a point to be in front of the Bullhead the faker was coming in through. She was gonna decide what to do with him once she saw him. After all her drinking buddy Qrow got in with fake transcripts after all so she had to at least pretend to give him the benefit of the doubt...

She felt a bit bad for her neice Weiss, yeah she wasn't exactly her favorite kid of her sis but still. She always did like sweet, little innocent Whitley betterbafter all.

Then her daughter started showing of her dad's side and the guilt for not paying her too much mind died...

Seriously she left the brat there in a freaking crater sniffling and... And... And who the fuck was that?

Tall, blonde and strangely getting her engines roaring was a blonde boy with deep blue eyes, and a freaking knight aesthetics and a sword and... Wait? That was him!?

Okay so the brat apparently had a semblance that influenced people, had to be that? She wasn't into men. So why did her eyes keep tracking him, right right semblance.

Well didn't matter she had her man targeted and went in for the kill. Grabbing the blonde away after old Ozzy's dumb speech. Really it was less kidnapping and more telling the blonde to follow her.

A lie about boys sleeping separately from girls and he was all too willing to follow. Really he was sorta naive for a spy/ assassin. She had him right where she wanted, in her room ready to get straight to the Seductio-Interrogation! She meant Interrogation.

Thankfully the hunky chump still believed he was in the clear so she just had to act all treachery and respectable and junk while she slowly used her ace.

Alchohol, loose lips came hand in hand with drinks after all. And here he was all trusting, with that dopey sweet smile and those lovely blue eyes and that fuckable fac- DAMMIT!

She didn't think he'd be heavy drinker like her, brat could hold his liquor... Sexy. Finally though she managed to ignore the blazing inferno that was her libido long enough to get down to buisness.

And by that she meant she broke a bottle and he reached to clean it for her drunk ass... And cut himself.

He, he didn't have aura... And then everything came out now that she was interrogating the boy about his aura outta worry more then suspicion. After all he couldn't be a spy without aura. That'd be retarded and suicidal, once she told him how she knew he was a fake he buckled and caved in...

And she listened, listened to the blonde talk about his dream, and how he was denied the chance to even attempt it. How he ran away from home, sold just about everything he owned to get his hands on the fake papers so he could risk it all on the chance to attempt to live up to his families name.

So he could be a hero instead of just his families biggest dissapointment... Their black sheep. And she made up her mind then.

Glyn would've blamed the booze, but Bleiss knew perfectly well what she wanted to do.

So she did something she really did...

Something Glynda feared her doing, she gave the blonde a private lesson... And no not the sexy kind though she was awfully fucking tempted.

But no Bleiss Gelé unlocked the blonde's stud levels of aura and then went full out drill Sargent on the sexy blonde. Most would've broke, hell many combat school graduates did under her excessive, cruel and unusual tutoledge.

It was why she was strictly teaching in Dust classes so she couldn't train the poor soft Hunters-in-training. But Jaune didn't break, oh he whined, cried and yelled, but the blonde as it turned out was made of tougher stuff then his folks gave him credit for.

And then the night was over... Dawn broke and the poor blonde bastard hadn't gotten a wink of sleep. But that was fine, she had a plan, she'd go to Ozzy, get his permission to make the kid her sexy assistant like she was gonna do for sweet lil Whitley when he came down for Vytal and then she'd... And he was gone!

Next thing she knows she's freaking out over the kid being launched into the fucking Emerald Forest! Oh Gawd! She wore him the fuck out and not even in the fun way!

She'd never been more pissed at her partner then she was at that moment as Glynda restrained her. She was freaking the fuck out as she saw the poor kid launched through the air... Then he wasn't cuz that one famous brat chucked her spear his way.

Then she directed herself his way... Did something happen between them? How? Darling must've at best had a minute or two to interact with anyone on the way here?

After several more minutes of annoyingly futile resistance she finally calmed down and accepted things as is and decided to watch Jaune try his luck during Initiation and vouch for him if he failed.

-O-O-O-

Glynda felt very... Conflicted over her partner Bleiss. On one hand she'd known her through her entire time in Beacon. She understood Bleiss even if at times if was irritating to do so.

It was ultimately why she felt secured to a point around her. Glynda knew what to expect from her... Usually. Right now as she fretted over a random boy who she couldn't have known for more then a few hours was leaving her utterly stumped.

She observed him, and frankly Jaune Arc while having high aura levels was hardly what she could call competent. The boy was tripping all over himself and getting lost in thought randomly.

He was proving to be a detriment to his partner. Then they entered that cave and he... Did he fall asleep!?

Actually looking closer at him the blonde he looked utterly exhausted and his aura levels were rather low especially given how quickly they were restoring... If she didn't know better she'd have thought the Arc had been fighting for his life, the. Night... Prior.

No...

Turning she looked to her worried partner and spoke the most dire question without thinking positive even her impulsive, sadistic partner wouldn't be so reckless.

"Bleiss what did you do?" Bleiss avoided her gaze and begun to mumble, that was never a good sign.

"What did you say?"

"I... just... Trained him a bit last night." She wasn't the only on to look horrified, Port, Oobeleck and even Ozpin looked pale at the implications. After what Bleiss considered legitimate training was illegal across the kingdoms.

"How is he alive..." She agreed with Port before turning back to the screen concerned about the boy.

Her previous concerns were utterly dashed. Anyone who could survive Gelé's training more the deserved a spot in Beacon.

-0-0-0-

Exhausted, irritated and sore were Jaune's feelings... Aura, thank merciful Oum for aura! He didn't know how he survived all these years without it. But he was sure he would've died last night if not for the soulful energy.

Miss Gelé was terrifying, at first he'd been flustered when such a pretty older woman tricked him into her room, then confused and then worried when his transcripts came to life.

But all that fell wayside when out of nowhere she stood up grabbed him, dragged him outside and told him she'd be teaching him a few of the basics a Huntsman needed to know.

He'd been about to talk back, not willing to take a hand out even if from a teache- Then she knocked him flat on his ass, walked up to him and said some kinda cool sounding words before she unlocked his aura.

Oh she explained what she did to him. But did so as she was stabbing at him with a freaking sword, darting around the place like a bullet. She even summoned monsters! Just constant pain, agony on the physical front and lectures on Grimm, Aura, Dust and a ton of other stuff he didn't know about.

All while she continued to beat his ass...

Once his aura shattered she'd beat him with fist, kicks and really painful grabs until it restored and they were back to him trying not to be impaled! Wash and rinse and repeat to sunrise! She looked happy! Excited even!

But hey, at least he had super powers now... Aura was awesome. Though right now he'd trade it in a heart beat for a coffee of even better a pillow...

But those thoughts could wait! He had bigger worries. He didn't go through all that just to g

fail Initiation! The Grimm weren't even as scary as that after all!

At some point he must've gone in a cave because currently he was running from a freaking Giant Scorpion!... Still not as scary as Ms. Gelé but this thing clearly wanted to kill him.

Aura into his feet like he saw miss Gelé doing he managed to outpace it! Pyrrha said something bout not wasting his aura but frankly he still had a lot...

Like much of the rest of the day it all happened like a blur. Ruby and Weiss eating dirt from falling from the sky and giant bird getting added to the mix and something about chess pieces.

All he knew is that they needed to get outta there fast to pass and best of all not fight the two giant monsters. That was a plan he could get behind!

And he would've, should've and was sure as hell going to. Until the ginger girl beside him called out her partner's name. He turned and saw that Pyrrha and the brunette he could assume was Ren hadn't made it before the bridge collapsed.

Really it should've been a easy choice, they were strangers, he hadn't even known Pyrrha a hour. He owed them nothing and the finish line was right there! Yep, it was a easy choice, one he didn't even need to think about... Dammit.

Pumping aura in his legs he leaped out towards them. After all what kinda person wouldn't rush in to help others? Not him that's for sure.

Exhausted, tired and only mentally there by a fraction his mind worked overtime. Instincts were in the front seat. And so he listened to them.

He knew there was no way he could tear through the things armor... At least, not with what he knew how to do. But there was something?

pumping aura into his arm he tanked a sting with his shield, the attack denting his heirloom's mechanism shifting sheath but somehow managed to feat of strength to not have his poise broken from the blow.

The Grimm's carapace was thick, to thick for a sword like his... But maybe if he stole another one of miss Bleiss's moves?

She'd been so nimble and quick during the fight, pushing aura into her legs as she explain it while beating him.

It was where he got the idea of doing it, though he had the feeling he wasn't nearly as good at it as she was. But despite how petite she was her blows were heavy... Because she put aura on the blade, heck she even swung it once and sent the energy flying.

It was that which he inspired to copy in that moment.

Pushing all the energy he could into his sword, desperation and determination were powerful motivators.

and from them he managed to once more repeat the technique Bleiss had preformed before him like her aura reinforcement.

All his aura surging out in a arc of violent energy, that cleaved into and through one of the Deathstalker's claws.

His aura shattered, he was out and now the thing was glaring at him, oh he was scared but he had three people with him. All of which seemed more worried about his auraless state then even he was. It reassured him, didn't seem like they'd run for it.

Which meant he had a chance. After all, this Grimm wasn't nearly as fast a attacker as Ms. Gelé, and Jaune had learned last night just how much being light on his feet could help.

He smiled, a crooked, sure toothy grin it's way, finding himself terrified but also excited to kill his first monster.

-0-0-0-

While they were sure Team RWBY would be the focus of their students for the staff the group their eyes were on were JNPR. And for once it wasn't because of miss Nikos.

No the reason was the blonde dancing around and avoiding the Death Stalker's strikes.

Who knew it was targeting him but didn't turn tell to run despite having no aura but instead kept it's attention so the others could wear it down.

"A Fucking Mazing..." Glynda felt a chill run up her spine as she turned to look at her partner. And what she saw terrified her.

Bleiss was unashamedly looking hungrily at the Arc.

"One fuckinh night with aura and he manages this..." Her lip bled she was biting it so hard. Wait, did she say a night with aura!? Didn't that imply he didn't have it before.

Surely not, he used aura reinforcement on his legs several times and even swung a aura Arc. Those were advance techniques, techniques her partner knew... Technique that look utterly and completely unrefined and raw being performed by the Arc as if he'd never used...

She had to do a double take, but, but he was so nimble on his feet?

"Heheh, Hahaha! He can't beat that thing in strength but if he can dodge me he can sure as hell dodge it!" That... Was true.

Actually he didn't look like he was dodging it so much as... Dancing around it's blows.

What was this, well at the least she knew one thing as Bleiss licked her lips.

She would have to keep a eye on the boy for his own sake from her partner.

#prof. bleiss au #bleiss schnee #glynda goodwitch #jaune arc #au concept

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howlingday · 1 year ago

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A Most Unusual Unit

Good morning, or rather, good evening, "Nightshade". Excellent work on your last assignment. Thanks your efforts, the councilman has lived to see another day, much to the great benefit of Vale. Unfortunately, I'm afraid I have another assignment for you already. Your new target is the leader of the Spiders organization, "Little Miss" Charlotte Malachite. She is a grave threat to peace between Vale and Mistral. Your mission is to get close to her and gain any information that may be related to seditious activities.

In order to do this, you will have to marry and have a child.

Blake: (Spits out her coffee, Coughs) EXCUSE ME?!

Little Miss is a reclusive woman and is notably suspicious of others. At this point, she operates almost entirely behind the scenes. Her only public appearances of late have been her attendance at the elite private school her daughters attend. These events act as informal get-togethers for the upper crust of society and the lowest of low in the criminal underworld. You are to enroll your child at this school and gain entry to these events. However, admission deadlines are approaching fast. YOU'VE ONLY GOT ONE WEEK.

Blake: (Rips encoded-cypher paper in half) THEY EXPECT ME TO HAVE A CHILD IN SEVEN DAYS?! (People stare at her, Ahem!) Excuse me...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Blake: Listen up, little girl.

Penny: I'm Penny!

Blake: Listen up, Penny. From now on, you are my child. As far as everyone knows, however, you have always been my child. Understood?

Penny: Understood!

Blake: You will address me as "Mother," as the elites do.

Penny: Mama!

Blake: Very well.

Old Woman: What an adorable girl~.

Blake: Thank you. We're the Belladinas. We just moved in.

Penny: I'm Penny, and I have always been Mama's child!

Old Woman: Huh?

Blake: (Thinking) You don't need to say that!.

Penny: Mama, I want a silenced pistol~!

Blake: If we see one on sale.

Old Woman: What a strange family...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jaune: (Answers phone) Hello, Arc residence.

Jaune: Oh, Saph!

Saphron: (Via phone) How are you doing, baby bro?.

Jaune: Good. Everything's good. I'm still hard at work in Vale!

Saphron: Still as weird as ever. Don't make me worry about you.

Jaune: You don't have to sound so mean about it! And I am not weird!

Saphron: Jaune, when are you going to get married? You find a good lady friend yet?

Jaune: (Thinking) Not this again...

Saphron: Listen, I might be offered a big promotion here soon, but that'd mean I'd be too busy to look after you. I'm not gonna say no right off the bat, but it doesn't feel right for me to abandon you in the big city. Like I always tell ya, I'm forever grateful for you taking care of me all this time, and that's why I want to make sure you're happy.

Jaune: I know, Saph. Thank you.

Saphron: I think I know some cuties out here in Argus. Maybe I could put in a good word for you?

Jaune: Ah! N-No! You don't need to do that! A-Actually, I'm heading to a party this weekend... and I'll be bringing someone!

Saphron: A girl?!

Jaune: Uh, y-yeah, I guess that's one way to describe her. So don't worry about me, okay?

Saphron: Alright. So, who's throwing this party? One of your co-workers?

Jaune: Mm-hm!

Saphron: Great! I'll have Pyrrha give me the full details on this girlfriend of yours!

Jaune: Eh?

Saphron: No offense, Jaune, but you can be pretty naive. I just want to make sure the girl you're digging isn't just digging into you, right?

Jaune: Uh, well-

Saphron: And I'm gonna hold off on this promotion until I know you're happy!

Jaune: Y-You don't need to-

Saphron: Can't wait to hear all about her, baby bro! Ciao~! (Click)

Jaune: (Hangs up, Pacing) What do I do?!. What do I do?!. I need to find a girlfriend now!. If Saph finds out I lied, she'll think there's something wrong with me!. Then she'll never get that promotion, and Terra'll be mad at me!. Adrian will never play with me again!.

Jaune: (Phone rings, Answers) Saph, listen! About what I said earlier, I was just joking! I-

Boss: (Via phone) Having family trouble?. That's unusual for you.

Jaune: Oh! Headmistress! I'm so sorry, I was-

Boss: Good evening. I have a client for you, Rusted Knight.

Jaune: (Eyes dim)

Boss: The Glass Unicorn. Room 1220.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jaune: Excuse me.

Proprietor: Oh, hello again, Jaune! How can I help you?

Jaune: I'm going to a party tonight, so I need my slacks patched up ASAP. Er, if that's okay, of course.

Blake: (Flinches, Thinking) How did he get by without me noticing?!. Jaune... Hm... Right. Jaune Arc, 26 years old, never married, and never divorced. Parents deceased. Seven sisters, six dexeased, one surviving, couple years older. They're both ordinary civilians with nothing on their files. Maybe I'm getting sloppy-

Jaune: Um, miss? You've been staring at me since I came in here. Is there something I can help you with?

Blake: He sensed me watching him?!. How?!.

Blake: Oh, uh, no. I just thought... you were really cute. Excuse me for being rude.

Jaune: Wait, so... I'm good looking to you?

Blake: Um, yes?

Jaune: Miss-

Penny: Mama! I got measured! Huh? Who's she?

Blake: He's another customer, like us.

Jaune: (Thinking) I almost asked another man's wife on a date! I've heard stories of men being murdered for things like that. BUT THIS TIME, I'D BE THE ONE TO DO THE KILLING.

Penny: !

Jaune: No! I can't even fantasize about a thing so horrible! It's thoughts like those that'll expose me as an ASSASSIN.

Penny: (Thinking) A- A- A- A- ASSASSIN?!.

Blake: (Spy)

Jaune: (Assassin)

Penny: (Telepath, Starved for entertainment) SOOO COOOOL!.

Blake: I thought he'd make for a good fit for the husband role, but his intuition could threaten my mission.

Jaune: I thought she'd be able to pull off the girlfriend role, but I can't afford any kind of unnecessary bloodshed.

Penny: (Looks down, Covering her face) Oh, boo hoo hoo! I am so sad about Papa!

Blake: P-Penny?! What are you-?!

Penny: I just miss my papa so very, very, very much! If only he could see me in my pretty dress!

Jaune: Oh, is your husband away?

Blake: Ah... You see... My husband actually passed a few years ago. I've been working hard to support my daughter as a single mother.

Jaune: Then... Then no one could try to kill me if I asked her!.

Jaune: Um, excuse me...

#rwby #spy x family #rwby au #blake belladonna #penny polendina #jaune arc #saphron cotta arc #knightshade

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sagstelliums · 2 years ago

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(Top to bottom) advice from crystals

Pile 1

I see that malachite, garnet, and chrysoprase has a message for you. Garnet wants to let u know that if things look rough or things look like it will never get better it’s a sign of change and a rebirth is coming, do what you can to soothe yourself and stay grounded. Take these obstacles as a lesson, See where the pain comes from and see what you can do in ur situation. keep fighting and stay persistent. Chrysoprase wants to let you know that it’s okay to feel pessimistic sometimes but beware of letting your emotions control ur actions, learn how to deal with ur emotions in a healthy way and transmute ur anger/pain. Malachite wants you to focus on healing past trauma especially in your childhood, let go of whatever doesn’t serve you and be open to change. Signs- Scorpio, Sagittarius, libra. Initials- P, C, T, V, F, K, J

Pile 2

I see you have messages from Angelite , green fluorite, and dumortierite. Angelite wants you to know that there are powerful sources that u can’t see and you should connect with them as they try to connect with u, listen to your intuition and try meditation or something that brings u peace/grounds you. Green flourite wants you to accept the things that you can’t control and be more open minded, do things that make you happy or find a new hobby. Dumortierite wants you to work on ur patience and self discipline, try to find something that benefits you and brings u joy. Signs- Virgo, Gemini, Scorpio. initials- V, Y, I, P

Pile 3

I see that you have messages from Smoky quart, sodalite, rose quartz, and turquoise. Smoky quartz wants you to know that you can’t ignore things and push them to the back of ur subconscious, your subconscious may be trying to tell you that u need to handle something instead of putting it off. Listen to ur intuition and do some shadow work, sodalite wants you to connect to ur spirituality and intuition more. Continue to ground yourself as you ascend, rose quartz wants you to be more compassionate to yourself and others. Turquoise wants you to focus on balancing your feminine and masculine energy,find the courage to get out tough situations and don’t make excuses for yourself. Signs- Leo, Aquarius, Taurus. Initials- Y, T, Q, F, P, N, E, A, I

Pile 4

I see that blue howlite, citrine, and amethyst have a message for u. I see that amethyst wants u to pay attention more to ur feminine side, focus on healing and letting go of fears. Blue howlite wants you to know that you have what it takes to be successful but u gotta be confident and ambitious, citrine wants you to control ur temper and learn how to handle tough situations. Signs- Aquarius, Pisces, Virgo. Initials- M, E, O, C, I

Personal readings always available, please watch my 18+ pick a card reading on YouTube

youtube

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wouldntyou-liketoknow · 2 months ago

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Day 6: Malformed

(Disclaimer: three of the characters in this story belong to me. For more information on LeviathanPat, go here. For more information on Sol, go here. For more information on ColosSeptic, go here.)

(This story is a continuation of a sneak-peek I included at the end of Day 2. Originally, this was going to be a sneak-peek itself, but plans have changed, and I'm on a bit of time-crunch, so...)

(As usual, I got tons of help developing these characters from the amazing @sammys-magical-au ! Please go check out their blog and stories!)

(One more thing: if you’d like to use the distorted fonts you’ll be seeing in this story, go here.)

(Trigger Warnings: blood/gore, body horror, mentions of experimentation, specimen preservation, implied murder/death, eating/drinking, strong language. Please let me know if I missed anything.)

Day 1 Day 2 Day 3 Day 4 Day 5 Day 7

___

Sol Magee considered herself equal parts flexible and responsible.

After all, if anyone thought they could run an entire museum-and-art-gallery-combo without those qualities, they’d be in for a very rude awakening.

And that was just talking about normal establishments. The ones that didn’t come with a slew of provisos that managed to be kinda funny and deathly serious at the same time.

Namely, the fact that the building was connected to an outer monstrosity who had a habit of collecting oddities and making his own oddities by experimenting on humans unfortunate enough to fall for his schemes.

And yet, if you managed to get on his good side, he could be pretty chill.

Sol had already worked under their fair share of human managers who were just downright insufferable for no actual reason, so it was simultaneously amazing and depressing to know that literal monsters could sometimes have better manners with staff.

Hell, Sol even had some things in common with him. Eccentricity had been the source of bonding between the two of them. It wasn’t that neither of them were playing with a full deck; rather, they each played with two-and-a-half decks and had managed to make up a new game where most of those extra cards benefited them.

Most, not all.

And that was probably why he seemed a bit on-edge tonight.

Even if Sol didn’t mind squeezing random rituals and the like in with their typical nightly tasks, her latest assignment was…strange.

“Wait, hold on—” Sol fidgeted with the notepad and pen they’d been carrying. “You want me to hide out in the attic and spy on…you?”

“ñð† jµ§† mê,” replied the nine-foot-tall mass of nightmare flesh that loomed beside her. As usual, his skin seemed to squirm of its own accord around whatever horrible skeleton he may or may not have had underneath.

(Sol had learned to call him Pat, since apparently her eyes and teeth would melt right out of her head if she tried pronouncing the other half of his name).

The Abnormal Orchard nearly resembled a tower from the outside, unless you counted the huge sign that hung over the main entrance, covered in wires that glowed with a mix of violet and blue light. They all worked together to form the image of a pomegranate with a cluster of eyeballs where its seeds should’ve been.

The building was just as imposingly tall as it was wide. So, of course there was a broad, spiraling ramp that stood at the center inside, just about a hundred feet from the main entrance.

Despite the elevators positioned across from her office, Sol almost always opted for the ramp instead. They just enjoyed the way they could see pretty much everything no matter where they stood on it. It seemed to keep all five of the museum’s expansive floors in a suspended tornado.

Tonight was no different as they strolled along, footsteps muffled by dark green carpeting that was adorned by splotches of black. The pattern almost resembled malachite and complimented the wallpaper’s deep yellow shade.

“Äñ ðlÐ ßµÐÐ¥ ð£ mïñê ï§ gðññå ßê §†ðþþïñg ß¥ £ðr å ¢hå†,” Pat continued as he kept pace beside them. His current movement was a mix between crawling and slithering, due to how his slightly-too-long-torso ended in what honestly looked like blistering tree roots instead of legs. But then, those appendages would likely take on a different shape in about five-or-so-minutes. “Ððñ'† ¥ðµ rêmêmßêr †hê þrêÐï¢†ïðñ§ Ì måÐê lå§† wêêk?”

(Pat was a creature of many talents; one of them being semi-regular visions of the future. Some were less clear than others, but then, there was nothing to stop him and Sol from theorizing on what they could mean. And it wasn’t often at all that he turned out to be wrong.)

“Yeah, I do. Just like I thought you’d remember that your predictions aren’t always the only ones,” Sol jokingly snarked, craning her neck to look up at his eyes…well, his primary eyes, at least. A few extra ones had sprouted along his cheeks and temples, seeming to glance at the ideas she’d been jotting down for future exhibit designs. “I found out that The Chocolate Guy made something disturbingly normal before you even knew.”

For most people, making eye-contact with him would lead to a migraine at best and a sudden case of blindness at worst, considering how his eyes were much too wide, how they glowed with the sickly-pale color of a corpse, how his pinprick pupils refused to stop shuddering in place.

But Sol wasn’t most people…plus, they also had a mask that had apparently been crafted with some serious protective juju. That certainly helped.

Putting it on had long-since become the first part of her nightly routine, right up until she officially closed up and clocked out to the apartment-suite that came included on the property.

The mask’s black material was smooth and compact, like porcelain or marble. Even after so much time, the interior never stopped feeling cold against the skin of Sol’s face. That soft chill always seemed to race up and down along her forehead and cheekbones.

The base of it had been molded into a shape that sort of resembled an upside-down pentagon. The center protruded forward, stretching out just enough to make you wince; there was no outline of a nose, but this still gave the impression of a triangular snout that ended in a smooth, simple stub.

Sculpted veins curved around the eye-holes, stretching from aforementioned stub all the way to the top-half that rested on Sol’s ginger hair. The paint that coated them seemed a bit tarnished, leaving them a dull shade of reddish-violet.

They could remember Pat saying something about a goat when he’d directed them through the museum’s basement to find it years ago. But honestly, they thought it looked more like a fox. A freak-of-nature fox with a pair of layered horns growing just below its long, oddly sharp ears to curl by its jaws.

Yeah, that’s right. Jaws. The mask’s design included a mouth that wrapped around the bottom-half. It would’ve been open, too, if not for the sets of gleaming porcelain teeth that gleamed like polished chinaware, jagged enough to make a piranha jealous.

It portrayed two emotions fused together: on the left side, the corner was quirked up to simulate a winding grin. The corner on the right side was the opposite—it tugged itself down in an almost feral grimace. This extended to the glass-lensed eyes as well. The left was scrunched-up, and the right almost looked like it was drooping.

“…Älrïgh†, ålrïgh†. †ðµ¢h'ê ðñ †hå†,” Pat relented, the first row of jagged teeth in his maw actively lengthening as he chuckled. “Èvêñ ï£ ¥ðµ jµ§† §ð håþþêñêÐ †ð ßê ðñ ¥ðµr låþ†ðþ whêñ †hå† vïÐêð wêñ† þµßlï¢.”

“Nuh-uh! I sensed some legit wrongness before I even opened my laptop—I woke up in a cold sweat that same morning, and that damn video was the reason!” Sol contended, snickering herself, trying to ignore the memory of all that sudden dread.

(The Chocolate Guy was a cosmic abomination himself, after all; one who was just apparently more comfortable with wearing a human disguise than Pat. And judging by some of the stories Pat had told Sol about the baker-creature before he’d made a home on Earth…well, she was extremely grateful that he was so focused on using his powers to simply create all kinds of amazing, life-like sculptures from sweets.)

“ÄñÐ ¥ðµ'vê ßêêñ £êêlïñg §ðmê ð£ †hå† wrðñgñê§§ ð££-åñÐ-ðñ-ågåïñ †ðÐå¥, håvêñ'† ¥ðµ?” Pat wondered.

“Yeah, I have.” Sol offered both a nod and shrug. “It’s just—I don’t know. I wasn’t too sure you’d want me getting close to that kind of stuff.”

“Èh, ¢êr†åïñ †hïñg§ håvê gð††å håþþêñ §ðmêÐå¥.” Pat mused. A keening, sheering noise rippled through the air as he clicked his teeth in thought. “§ð, ï£ ¥ðµ wåñ† ¥ðµr §êñ§ê§ †ð kêêþ gê††ïñg §hårþêr, åñÐ ï£ Ì håvê †ð mêê† wï†h å §þê¢ïål gµê§†...wêll, wh¥ ñð† ¢åþï†ålïzê?”

“Why not?” Sol echoed. They didn’t bother to hide the spark of excitement growing in their voice. There was no point; as far as they knew, Pat could already taste the adrenaline that was now coursing through their mind.

Plus, it just felt kinda great to know that she was trusted.

Pat was a centuries-old monstrosity whose life-purpose revolved around a very literal type of mad science. Sol had seen what he was capable of, how he could easily twist and warp humans (whether the victims of his casual hunting or organized sacrifices) in all sorts of horrific ways just to see what would happen. He fed on emotions, thoughts, entire minds and souls like it was nothing. He’d told her stories about eating the odd star or two in his past.

So, for something like him to see something like her as someone he could include in his surreal business matters—as a friend…

There just wasn’t much like it.

…Even if he had sarcastically spat out the word special guest like it was fried feather that had somehow found its way into a box of buffalo wings. That didn’t seem like the best omen out there.

“How much time do we have before this guy gets here?” Sol asked.

Pat gave pause, brow furrowing in frustration. He quickly shrank down until he only stood about four inches taller than Sol’s five-foot-seven.

“ñð† å whðlê lð†,” He finally admitted as he sidled over to perch on one section of the ramp’s safety-railing, far too little effort in his movements. By now, the spire of his lower-half had split into a pair of actual legs. They looked pretty human-esque for the most part, though the calves were bent backwards like those of a quadraped, each ending in a clutch of talons. “Ì kñðw hê'§ ðñ hï§ wå¥, ßµ† Ì'll ðñl¥ rêåll¥ ßê åßlê †ð †êll ðñ¢ê hê'§ å¢†µåll¥ ðñ †hê þrðþêr†¥.”

Sol offered an understanding shrug, stuffing the notepad into the breast pocket of their purple leather jacket. “Well, I can just pick this up where I left off sometime after your meeting, right?”

“Rïgh†,” Pat agreed, nodding in a way that was just too fluid for comfort.

A cluster of long, sinuous tendrils manifested from his back with a terrible chorus of snaps and pops and cracks. He leaned back, allowing them to press up against the wall behind him. And with that, his form seemed to churn in on itself as he effectively melted out of sight. He left a black, blurry silhouette-stain behind, but even that didn’t take long to shrink and fade away from the yellow wallpaper. In less than a minute, there was no evidence he’d ever even been there in the first place.

Sol knew where he was headed, so they quickened their pace, ascending along the ramp and passing everything by to meet him there.

The first four floors were all dedicated to anomalies and curiosities. Despite all the organization, none of them adhered to an actual category. They each just held a vast collection of things that people were either disgusted and terrified of, or morbidly fascinated by.

All sorts of preservation was practiced here.

Specimens floating in concoctions of decay-defying fluids (formaldehyde, casualdejekyll, the works).

Apothecary jars lined certain shelves, all coming in various shapes and sizes. A few veritable truckloads of pickled organs or appendages, or, or, or. One held a pair of human hands, the fingers of which seemed to have been fused together. Another contained an entire mouth—skin, lips, tongue and everything—that had been propped open unnaturally wide to display a horrific amount of crooked, rotting teeth.

Specimens frozen in resin cubes or slides.

Where wet preservation typically led to discoloring, the resin was honestly a bit like amber. Somehow, it kept the tissues looking vibrant, like they could still be full of life and functioning as intended.

Except for the fact that they absolutely couldn’t, considering the states they’d been left in.

A set of intestines twisted into several knots, the end-results of a brain-bleed, an appendix that somehow seemed to be captured mere seconds after rupturing, an arm’s worth of branching veins forced to swell because apparently the blood inside them had gained a consistency similar to tapioca pudding…

Specimens kept in simple, tightly-sealed display cases. Those ones were often completely skeletonized, just for the sake of convenience, but still.

In all classifications, sizes varied.

Some were small enough for Sol to pinch between their index finger and thumb. Such as one little vial which held the phalanges of a pinkie-toe with an uncomfortable amount of joints. (Not nearly as disturbing as the teretomas, though. The mere thought of those sickly, fleshy spheres that had been sliced open juuuuust enough to reveal piles of teeth inside…it was enough to make even someone with Sol’s experience itch all over.)

Others, meanwhile, were so big and heavy that the only safe way to move them would be via forklift. Such as what was basically a glass coffin housing an entire human body, mummified and infested with a subspecies of cordyceps. A much stronger, much more aggressive variant. Though the mold-colored stalks protruding from a jagged hole in the corpse’s head had been stiff for so many years, the way they all bent and just barely rubbed against the inside of the case suggested they were still trying to break out and spread their spores every which way to find fresher hosts.

Just a few examples out of many. And yet…none of the upper floors could ever even dream of comparing to the collection in the basement. The collection that was kept under heavy lock-and-key, kept hidden from mortal customers. Sol herself had only been down there a couple times, though apparently she’d be able to more often the more she adjusted…

The Fifth Floor stood out from the rest. It was much more of a gallery than an archive; it hosted art of all mediums. (Though, in order for a new piece to be accepted, it had to be crafted with the darker genres in mind. But that wasn’t much of a problem. Horror and surrealism were all the rage these days, after all.)

It was also the only floor to not have any windows in its walls, whereas the others seemed to have a few too many.

Instead, the carpet seemed to be the only space not covered by glossy frames that came in various shapes and sizes.

Sol had to be careful to keep at least three feet of distance as she passed by.

Some of the drawings had an odd type of gravitational pull.

The colors of specific paintings never seemed to fully dry; not only that, but they often gave off powerful scents at certain hours. Some smelled soft and sweet and enticing. Others, meanwhile, were heavy with the stench of rot and pain.

Suspicious shapes would bulge out from under the canvases on occasion. The struggle was obviously desperate, despite how slow the movements were.

A fair number of the focuses didn’t have eyes. Those that did, however, always seemed to stare after you, no matter how far away you walked.

(Especially one ancient-looking portrait that offered the etching of a cyclopian triangle with spindly arms and legs. Sometimes, if Sol looked at it for too long, she’d start to hear a faint, muffled chorus of cackling and wisecracking comments.)

Sol ventured over to the little corridor that stood off to one side of the gallery.

A sleek black cat had apparently beaten them there, pacing the floor in small circles, occasionally jumping up to try and paw at the long pull-cord that hung from a white panel in the ceiling.

Charcoal couldn’t really be blamed for his trance, considering how the string swayed to and fro despite the fact that there was no breeze to move it. (In fact, it even seemed to be fluttering in time with his movements, and if that didn’t count as taunting, then what would?)

Sol knelt down and invoked the undeniably powerful chant of pspspspspspsps.

Their pet’s ears twitched, and he almost immediately came trotting over to greet them.

In the nick of time, too; in less than a heartbeat, that white panel swung open, leaving a dark hole in its place. The ceiling-door’s hinges let out a scream like a dying cow as an old ladder came sliding out to hit the floor with a heavy thump.

Sol gathered Charcoal up—even with their mask on, they still got a faceful of the brimstone that never seemed to leave the cat’s fur. Using one arm to awkwardly cradle him to their chest and the other arm to keep their balance, they climbed on up.

As usual, the museum’s attic was dark and cold.

A large, perfectly circular hole had been cut out of the far wall. That space used to be filled with a decorative window, and it had stayed that way when Sol took over The Abnormal Orchard.

They’d opened it for perhaps the very first time on that fateful night when Pat had arrived, and…well, he hadn’t exactly meant to tear out the glass and its framing, but hey. He’d already made it clear that it was to stay open at all times.

Long ago, the attic had been used as an extra storage space, and technically it still functioned as such. A plethora of crates and chests and boxes were pushed against the walls, stacked on top of one another, each holding something that Pat wasn’t quite ready to add to any of the main floors just yet.

Some of them ever-so-slightly trembled, like whatever was inside them had stirred in its sleep…or struggled against strong bindings. Some were covered in stains that glistened in the dim moonlight that seeped in from outside.

As soon as Sol got their bearings, the ladder folded back onto its track, the door lifting to shut itself behind them. They crossed the center of the room and gazed up.

The attic’s entire ceiling had been swallowed up by a mass of gauzy threads. Thick strands had been attached to the corners, allowing even more to all come together, twisting and criss-crossing in layers upon more layers upon even more layers to form some kind of huge, silky, cocoon-hammock…thing.

If not for how all the fibrous stuff boasted the splotchy colors of bruises, it would’ve resembled a combination of spiderweb and wasp nest.

Pat was lounging inside of it, just like he usually did during the museum’s business hours (whenever he wasn’t busy hunting or experimenting, that is). He’d shifted into a truly massive size, his lower-half now coiled up beneath him like a snake or a centipede. A few extra arms sprouted from his sides to idly pluck at some of the strings around him. While the nest-cocoon-hammock-thing swayed to and fro as he shuffled in place, it never seemed to strain under his weight.

“Anything I need to look out for?” Sol asked, heading for a crawlspace door that had been built into the side of the adjacent wall `a la Coraline. Snug would’ve been a generous word for the inside, but it’d already proven to be a fine hiding spot. Plus, it offered a good vantage point of everything on the outside, even when its door had to be held ajar. “When he gets here, I mean.”

“Ìñ†êrê§†ïñg ¢hðï¢ê ð£ wðrÐ§,” Pat chuckled, a searing, buzzing sound reminiscent of glass splintering apart at the bottom of a boiling pot. “Hê †ê¢hñï¢åll¥ Ððê§ñ'† håvê å ßlïñÐ§þð†, ßµ† ¥ðµ'll ålrêåÐ¥ håvê §ðmê ¢ðvêr. þlµ§, ßrïgh† lïgh†§ ¢åñ måkê †hïñg§ ßlµrr¥; hðlÐïñg å §måll £låmê wðµlÐñ'† hµr†.”

“Gotcha.” Once they’d pretzeled themself inside the crawlspace, Sol reached for another one of their jacket-pockets; the one where their striker-knife and chunk of rainbow flint had free real estate.

But Charcoal seemed eager to participate. Just before his owner could fish their tools out, he perked up on their lap. He rolled his shoulders, his chest puffing out as he took a deep, quiet breath.

He then opened his mouth, allowing thin flames to lick out past his bared fangs. And yet, the little ball of fire he’d brought up from his lungs seemed content to just linger at the back of his throat, casting short shadows that flickered and danced around his teeth.

“...Never mind, then. Thanks, buddy.” Sol smiled, scratching her pet’s ears just in time to feel a pair of horns ease their way out of his little forehead.

Charcoal purred, a sound that grew ever-so-slightly deeper and raspier as some of his fur pulled back, showing off a coat of dark scales underneath. Strangest of all, his eyes didn’t even reflect the glow like those of a normal cat would. Instead, his pupils just grew and grew until his eye sockets resembled bottomless pits in his face.

Pat’s neck stretched out from the mouth of his cocoon-hammock-nest-thing. He nodded at the little display.

“ÄñÐ êvêñ whêñ hï§ vï§ïðñ'§ ðß§¢µrêÐ, hê ¢åñ §†ïll §êê †hrðµgh †hê ê¥ê§ ð£ ð†hêr§,” he continued. “Ððñ'† lððk Ðïrê¢†l¥ å† hïm. †r�� †ð £ð¢µ§ ðñ †hê §†µ££ årðµñÐ hïm. ßµ† ï£ ¥ðµ håvê ñð ¢hðï¢ê êx¢êþ† †ð lððk å† hï§ ê¥ê§, jµ§† Ððñ'†—”

Pat stiffened, trailing off as a seam manifested in the middle of his forehead. With a sickening, almost rubbery sigh, that seam peeled itself open to reveal a eyeball. It was larger than his primaries, its sclera was pitch-dark. Pat’s ever-moving skin was already a void in itself, but this particular eye was even more abyssal than that. Save for a tiny, shivering, pale-as-snow iris with no pupil at all.

Pat could summon as many extra eyes as he wanted at will, but this one was different.

This eye only bloomed on his face at serious times. (In the grand scheme of things, this was perfectly logical. Pat already had far more senses than mortal creatures. This third eye was just a sense all of its own.) Sol privately called it the Illuminati’s Cousin.

A low, dangerous hissssss crept out through Pat’s teeth, his neck retracting and his head snapping back into place.

Sol got the hint; they silently shuffled themself and Charcoal even further into the crawlspace until their back hit the wall. They reached over and pulled at the little door, only leaving a small crack to peer through.

As if on cue, all the nighttime hubbub echoing from outside—the drone of insects, the hollow screeches of owls, even the wind and thunder that had just started rumbling a few moments ago—came to an abrupt, uncanny halt.

The far wall of the attic shook.

Sccrrrrrp

A sound so low that it managed to be soft and piercing at the same time. Like a person who, despite only having a set of bloody stubs left of their nails, decided to drag their fingers along a chalkboard just for the hell of it…

Scccrrrrp-sssccrrrrp

…Or a cluster of ragged claws scratching against a brick wall.

It followed a distinct rhythm. Even with all the screeching, there was no doubt how the source was moving so carefully, so deliberately.

Like an ambush predator stalking after its prey

Sccrrrp-scccrrrp, sccrrrp-sccrrrrp

The noise finally reached its peak when a pair of too-large hands adorned by too-long, too-crooked digits wrapped around the edges of the attic window.

They dug further into the wall as a distorted shape spilled into the attic, momentarily blotting out the moonlight. The sight reminded Sol of all those edutainment videos of octopuses using their boneless nature to squeeze through openings that would’ve been impossible for literally anything else to bypass.

After a batch of long, uncomfortable seconds dragged by, the shape slithered from the window frame and onto the floor. It almost seemed to spread there like a pool of viscous liquid…and then, thick clouds of smoke began to rise from it. They pulled the shape up like it was magnetic putty, coaxing it to weave itself into something much more solid.

Without warning, a harsh emerald light beamed to life from somewhere inside the figure. Sol flinched back, having to wrench her eyes shut. But once she re-opened them, she felt something cold and clammy start to churn in her stomach.

Thanks to all their time working with Pat, Sol was much more prepared to accept the unacceptable than the average human.

But the scene unfolding before her…she had to admit that it was something else.

In the span of mere seconds, the visiting monster already grown to roughly the same size as Pat.

And, keeping up with the similarities, his head and torso followed a vague human shape.

And vague was an extremely generous term here, folks.

His skin was almost completely transparent—that green illumination had tapered down some, allowing Sol to realize that the monster’s bones and organs were glowing from the inside. Similar to a diaphonized specimen with its container positioned over an LED stand.

As Sol stared, she managed to see how his misshapen heart squirmed its way out from under his lungs; though it didn’t escape his jagged, bending ribcage, it seemed perfectly fine with crawling around in tight circles to press up against bone. His intestines shuffled and writhed over one another like a pile of worms.

The jagged, organic crater taking up space by his abdomen suggested that he’d been ripped in half at the navel. That smoke from earlier was now drifting out of it, veils curling through in the air in a very unnatural way.

Before Sol could stop herself, she looked up at the monster’s face.

The corners of his mouth stretched quite literally from ear-to-ear. A few inches before those corners, thin strands of flesh stretch out to connect his upper and lower jaws. It was honestly miraculous that they hadn’t been accidentally shredded by the unnecessary amount of glinting teeth nestled inside. Hair grew over his lips(?) and along his chin, forming a short beard that was just as dark as the thatch on his scalp, which draped over his shoulders and back in long tangles.

And to top it all off, both of his eye sockets were completely hollow, as well as disturbingly wide. In fact, the glistening flesh inside them stretched out of his head to curve alongside his temples in shapes somewhat similar to the ears of a bat.

Pat’s warning echoed through Sol’s brain…but where were this guy’s eyes? How could he see at all?

Sol’s own eyes drifted down, and she just barely managed to catch herself and pin her focus to the opposite wall instead. Because she’d gotten her answer: displaced peepers were littered about the monster’s arms and hands and neck, with the largest one blinking on that spot right where his collarbones met.

Eye Guy shuffled in place, surveying Pat’s cocoon-hammock-nest thing before his vision finally settled on his fellow monster. Pat stared right back, the Illuminati’s Cousin rolling around in his head.

“.⃥.̸.⃥𝘏̸𝗘⃥𝘠̸,⃥” Eye Guy greeted, his voice seeming to splash through the air, rough and loud and…laced with an honest-to-God Irish accent?

“Hê¥,” Pat echoed, the edges of his voice spinning like a swarm of cicadas.

A trio of his back-tendrils suddenly stretched out from the cocoon-hammock-nest-thing, reaching across the attic to a little mini-fridge that had been set up in the corner. One of them pulled the little door open, then heaved it shut once the other two each coiled around a can of Diet Coke.

The tendrils weaved their way back over, one of them hovering near Eye Guy while the other two vanished, probably wrapping around Pat's spine and ribs, the other can of soda sticking the landing in his outstretched palm

Eye Guy tilted his head, quietly reaching up to accept the offered beverage. “𝗢⃥𝘏̸,⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘏̸𝗔⃥𝘕̸𝗞⃥𝘚̸.⃥”

“ñð þrðßlêm,” Pat responded, using the tips of his claws to pop the tab.

Eye Guy followed suite, the two of them drinking until the cans were empty…at which point the aforementioned cans simply followed the soda’s path, aluminum crunching and tearing and screeching against horrifically sharp enamel, likely leaving jagged scars and opening up thin rivers of monstrous blood in its wake as it was swallowed.

𝗛⃥𝘈̸𝗩⃥𝘌̸𝗡⃥'̸𝗧⃥ 𝗦⃥𝘌̸𝗘⃥𝘕̸ 𝘠̸𝗢⃥𝘜̸ 𝘍̸𝗢⃥𝘙̸ 𝘈̸ 𝘍̸𝗘⃥𝘞̸ 𝘚̸𝗖⃥𝘖̸𝗥⃥𝘊̸𝗛⃥𝘐̸𝗡⃥𝘎̸ 𝘔̸𝗜⃥𝘕̸𝗨⃥𝘛̸𝗘⃥𝘚̸.⃥ 𝗛⃥𝘖̸𝗪⃥'̸𝗩⃥𝘌̸ 𝘠̸𝗢⃥𝘜̸ 𝘉̸𝗘⃥𝘌̸𝗡⃥?̸” Eye Guy asked.

“Öh, jµ§† þêå¢h¥!” Pat’s fangs curled out of his mouth like tusks as he aimed a sarcastic grin the visitor’s way.

Eye Guy shrugged. “𝗛⃥𝘌̸𝗔⃥𝘙̸𝗗⃥ 𝗬⃥𝘖̸𝗨⃥ 𝗙⃥𝘐̸𝗡⃥𝘈̸𝗟⃥𝘓̸𝗬⃥ 𝗙⃥𝘖̸𝗨⃥𝘕̸𝗗⃥ 𝗦⃥𝘖̸𝗠⃥𝘌̸ 𝘋̸𝗨⃥𝘗̸𝗘⃥𝘚̸ 𝘛̸𝗢⃥ 𝗕⃥𝘙̸𝗘⃥𝘈̸𝗞⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘏̸𝗘⃥ 𝗕⃥𝘐̸𝗡⃥𝘋̸𝗜⃥𝘕̸𝗚⃥.̸ 𝘊̸𝗢⃥𝘕̸𝗚⃥𝘙̸𝗔⃥𝘛̸𝗦⃥ 𝗢⃥𝘕̸ 𝘛̸𝗛⃥𝘈̸𝗧⃥.̸”

Pat hummed affirmative, rolling his shoulders and tilting his head in a prideful manner. Another awkward few seconds came and went before he let out a grating sigh.

“§ð. Çårê †ð êxþlåïñ wh¥ ¥ðµ'rê ¢rå§hïñg ðñ M¥ †ÈRRÌ†ÖR¥? È§þê¢ïåll¥ å£†êr Ì JÚ§† gð† ßå¢k †ð ï†?”

Eye Guy clicked his long, forked tongue. “𝗜⃥ 𝗙⃥𝘐̸𝗚⃥𝘜̸𝗥⃥𝘌̸𝗗⃥ 𝗬⃥𝘖̸𝗨⃥ 𝗔⃥𝘓̸𝗥⃥𝘌̸𝗔⃥𝘋̸𝗬⃥ 𝗦⃥𝘈̸𝗪⃥ 𝗠⃥𝘌̸ 𝘊̸𝗢⃥𝘔̸𝗜⃥𝘕̸𝗚⃥ 𝗔⃥ 𝗟⃥𝘐̸𝗧⃥𝘛̸𝗟⃥𝘌̸ 𝘞̸𝗛⃥𝘐̸𝗟⃥𝘌̸ 𝘈̸𝗚⃥𝘖̸—𝗛⃥𝘌̸𝗬⃥,̸ 𝘏̸𝗘⃥𝘠̸,⃥ 𝗖⃥𝘈̸𝗟⃥𝘔̸ 𝘋̸𝗢⃥𝘞̸𝗡⃥.̸ 𝘛̸𝗛⃥𝘈̸𝗧⃥'̸𝗦⃥ 𝗡⃥𝘖̸𝗧⃥ 𝗔⃥ 𝗝⃥𝘖̸𝗞⃥𝘌̸ 𝘍̸𝗢⃥𝘙̸ 𝘔̸𝗘⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘖̸ 𝘌̸𝗡⃥𝘑̸𝗢⃥𝘠̸.” He briefly cut himself off to wave a dismissive clutch of talons at the way Pat snarled. Although there was no denying the mischievous smirk in his tone as he added, “𝗡⃥𝘖̸𝗧⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘏̸𝗜⃥𝘚̸ 𝘛̸𝗜⃥𝘔̸𝗘⃥,̸ 𝘈̸𝗡⃥𝘠̸𝗪⃥𝘈̸𝗬⃥.̸”

Pat leaned out of his cocoon-hammock-nest-thing, clicking his teeth as his eyes narrowed.

“†hå†'§ §†rïkê Öñê, þål. †r¥ ågåïñ,” he warned.

“𝗢⃥𝘏̸,⃥ 𝗖⃥'̸𝗠⃥𝘖̸𝗡⃥. 𝗬⃥𝘖̸𝗨⃥ 𝗔⃥𝘓̸𝗥⃥𝘌̸𝗔⃥𝘋̸𝗬⃥ 𝗞⃥𝘕̸𝗢⃥𝘞̸ 𝘞̸𝗛⃥𝘈̸𝗧⃥'̸𝗦⃥ 𝗨⃥𝘗̸.⃥ 𝗞⃥𝘕̸𝗢⃥𝘞̸𝗜⃥𝘕̸𝗚⃥ 𝗦⃥𝘛̸𝗨⃥𝘍̸𝗙⃥ 𝗜⃥𝘚̸ 𝘠̸𝗢⃥𝘜̸𝗥⃥ 𝗪⃥𝘏̸𝗢⃥𝘓̸𝗘⃥ 𝗗⃥𝘈̸𝗠⃥𝘕̸ 𝘛̸𝗛⃥𝘐̸𝗡⃥𝘎̸!⃥” Eye Guy huffed. He got the privilege of taking the rolling-your-eyes-with-your-whole-body thing to an extremely authentic level. “𝗬⃥𝘖̸𝗨⃥ 𝗞⃥𝘕̸𝗢⃥𝘞̸ 𝘛̸𝗛⃥𝘈̸𝗧⃥ 𝗕⃥𝘈̸𝗦⃥𝘛̸𝗔⃥𝘙̸𝗗⃥ 𝗔⃥𝘏̸’⃥𝘔̸𝗨⃥𝘕̸𝗚⃥-̸𝗦⃥𝘛̸𝗨⃥𝘚̸ 𝘐̸𝗦⃥ 𝗕⃥𝘈̸𝗖⃥𝘒̸,⃥ 𝗬⃥𝘖̸𝗨⃥ 𝗞⃥𝘕̸𝗢⃥𝘞̸ 𝘞̸𝗛⃥𝘈̸𝗧⃥ 𝗛⃥𝘌̸'⃥𝘚̸ 𝘎̸𝗢⃥𝘕̸𝗡⃥𝘈̸ 𝘛̸𝗥⃥𝘠̸ 𝘛̸𝗢⃥ 𝗗⃥𝘖̸.⃥”

“¥êåh, Ì Ðð kñðw åll †hå†,” Pat agreed. He shifted in place, soon lying on his back, the Illuminati’s Cousin still glaring at Eye Guy. “Lêmmê gµê§§: ¥ðµ wåñ† †ð mêê† µþ wï†h mê åñÐ m¥ kñðwïñg-†hïñg§ §¢h†ï¢k ïñ å ¢ðµþlê ñïgh†§. †hå† wå¥, åñ¥ þð†êñïål †hrêå†§ ¢åñ ßê þrêÐï¢†êÐ ßê£ðrê †hê¥ Ðï§rµþ† å ¢êr†åïñ rï†µål?”

The way he spoke made it sound much more like a statement than a question.

Out of the corner of their eye, Sol glimpsed how Eye Guy’s collar-eye (wow, that was way too many eyes in one sentence, huh?) lit up. It seemed he was about to reply, but Pat interjected with a theatrical gasp.

“ßµ† wåï†!” After an overexaggerated pause, he continued: “¥ðµ ÐïÐñ'† êvêñ mêñ†ïðñ åñ¥ rï†µål§ ïñ ¥ðµr êlêvå†ðr-þï†¢h, Ðê§þï†ê †hê ðßvïðµ§ñê§§ ð£ ï† åll!”

He let himself fall out halfway over the edge of his cocoon-hammock-nest-thing, now hanging upside-down, all six pairs of his arms folded across his chest. “Wh¥'Ð ¥ðµ Ðð †hå†?”

A sour look flickered in the collar-eye; Eye Guy’s bioluminesence shifted into a more toxic shade of green. An aggravated groan seeped through his gnashing teeth.

“.⃥.̸.⃥𝘛̸𝗛⃥𝘌̸ 𝘙̸𝗜⃥𝘛̸𝗨⃥𝘈̸𝗟⃥ 𝗖⃥𝘈̸𝗡⃥'̸𝗧⃥ 𝗪⃥𝘖̸𝗥⃥𝘒̸ 𝘞̸𝗜⃥𝘛̸𝗛⃥𝘖̸𝗨⃥𝘛̸ 𝘛̸𝗛⃥𝘙̸𝗘⃥𝘌̸ 𝘗̸𝗔⃥𝘙̸𝗧⃥𝘐̸𝗖⃥𝘐̸𝗣⃥𝘈̸𝗡⃥𝘛̸𝗦⃥.̸ 𝘛̸𝗛⃥𝘈̸𝗧⃥'̸𝗦⃥ 𝗝⃥𝘜̸𝗦⃥𝘛̸ 𝘛̸𝗛⃥𝘌̸ 𝘙̸𝗨⃥𝘓̸𝗘⃥𝘚̸!⃥ 𝗜⃥ 𝗡⃥𝘌̸𝗩⃥𝘌̸𝗥⃥ 𝗠⃥𝘈̸𝗗⃥𝘌̸ 𝘛̸𝗛⃥𝘌̸𝗠⃥!̸”

“Öh, Ì'm ñð† §å¥ïñg ¥ðµ ÐïÐ,” Pat agreed, his pitch dripping with honey that was so obviously pumped full of venom. “Ì†'§ jµ§†—†ð ßê ¢lêår: ï£ ¥ðµ åñÐ I årê §µþþð§êÐ †ð ßê ïñvðlvêÐ, †hêñ whð årê ¥ðµ †hïñkïñg åßðµ† £ðr †hå† †hïrÐ þår†ï¢ïþåñ†?”

Now it was Eye Guy’s turn to hissssss, talons leaving long gashes in the old attic floor panels.

“.⃥.̸.⃥𝘠̸𝗢⃥𝘜̸ 𝘒̸𝗡⃥𝘖̸𝗪⃥ 𝗪⃥𝘏̸𝗢⃥,̸” he finally muttered.

Pat nodded with a snarky hum, his eyes all narrowing to slits. “Èxå¢†l¥. §ð, wh¥ †hê HÈLL årê ¥ðµ å§kïñg mê †ð ßê ïñvlðvêÐ ï£ HÈ'§ gðññå ßê †hêrê?!”

“𝗕⃥𝘌̸𝗖⃥𝘈̸𝗨⃥𝘚̸𝗘⃥ 𝗬⃥𝘖̸𝗨⃥ 𝗚⃥𝘜̸𝗬⃥𝘚̸ 𝘈̸𝗥⃥𝘌̸ 𝘛̸𝗛⃥𝘌̸ 𝘖̸𝗡⃥𝘓̸𝗬⃥ 𝗢⃥𝘕̸𝗘⃥𝘚̸ 𝘈̸𝗩⃥𝘈̸𝗜⃥𝘓̸𝗔⃥𝘉̸𝗟⃥𝘌̸ 𝘛̸𝗛⃥𝘐̸𝗦⃥ 𝗬⃥𝘌̸𝗔⃥𝘙̸!⃥” Eye Guy snapped back, his voice now booming enough for Sol’s ears to ring.

“Wêll, MÄ¥ßÈ ¥ðµ jµ§† håvêñ'† ßêêñ lððkïñg hårÐ êñðµgh,” Pat snipped. With an awful crunching sound, he twisted his torso around on itself in a way that would've been more than enough to snap a mortal spine five times over, turning his back to the other monster. “Hðw åßðµ† ¥ðµ jµ§† jðg ðñ åñÐ kêêþ †r¥ïñg?”

“𝗧⃥𝘏̸𝗘⃥𝘙̸𝗘⃥'̸𝗦⃥ 𝗡⃥𝘖̸ 𝘛̸𝗜⃥𝘔̸𝗘⃥ 𝗙⃥𝘖̸𝗥⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘏̸𝗔⃥𝘛̸!⃥” Eye Guy protested. “𝗧⃥𝘙̸𝗨⃥𝘚̸𝗧⃥ 𝗠⃥𝘌̸,⃥ 𝗜⃥𝘍̸ 𝘛̸𝗛⃥𝘈̸𝗧⃥ 𝗪⃥𝘈̸𝗦⃥𝘕̸'⃥𝘛̸ 𝘛̸𝗛⃥𝘌̸ 𝘊̸𝗔⃥𝘚̸𝗘⃥,̸ 𝘛̸𝗛⃥𝘌̸𝗡⃥ 𝗜⃥ 𝗪⃥𝘖̸𝗨⃥𝘓̸𝗗⃥𝘕̸'⃥𝘛̸ 𝘌̸𝗩⃥𝘌̸𝗡⃥ 𝗕⃥𝘌̸ 𝘏̸𝗘⃥𝘙̸𝗘⃥,̸ 𝘉̸𝗘⃥𝘊̸𝗔⃥𝘜̸𝗦⃥𝘌̸ 𝗜⃥'̸𝗠⃥ 𝗡⃥𝘖̸𝗧⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘖̸𝗢⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘏̸𝗥⃥𝘐̸𝗟⃥𝘓̸𝗘⃥𝘋̸ 𝘈̸𝗧⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘏̸𝗘⃥ 𝗜⃥𝘋̸𝗘⃥𝘈̸ 𝘖̸𝗙⃥ 𝗛⃥𝘈̸𝗩⃥𝘐̸𝗡⃥𝘎̸ 𝘛̸𝗢⃥ 𝗚⃥𝘌̸𝗧⃥ 𝗜⃥𝘕̸ 𝘉̸𝗘⃥𝘛̸𝗪⃥𝘌̸𝗘⃥𝘕̸ 𝘛̸𝗛⃥𝘌̸ 𝘛̸𝗪⃥𝘖̸ 𝘖̸𝗙⃥ 𝗬⃥𝘖̸𝗨⃥!̸”

“Öh, å§ ï£ Ì'M †HÈ þRÖßLÈM!” Pat’s neck swiveled in the opposite of the direction he’d just shifted, soon staring daggers at his guest yet again. “Ì£ ¥ðµ rêåll¥ £êêl †hå† wå¥, †hêñ wh¥ §hðµlÐ Ì ¢årê?!”

Following the new pattern, one pair of his arms bent backwards as he raised them, wrists popping and cricking as he made air-quotes with his claws. “ÐïÐñ'† ¥ÖÚ †êll mê †ð ‘jµ§† §å¥ ñð’ å† †hå† §ðl§†ï¢ê å †hðµ§åñÐ ¥êår§ ågð?”

Eye Guy growled deep in his throat. He then shook his head, pressing a hand to his temple and dragging it down his face (and nearly getting one of his claws caught in his eye-sockets).

“𝗬⃥𝘖̸𝗨⃥ 𝗥⃥𝘌̸𝗔⃥𝘓̸𝗟⃥𝘠̸ 𝘑̸𝗨⃥𝘚̸𝗧⃥ 𝗖⃥𝘈̸𝗡⃥'̸𝗧⃥ 𝗟⃥𝘌̸𝗧⃥ 𝗔⃥𝘕̸𝗬⃥𝘛̸𝗛⃥𝘐̸𝗡⃥𝘎̸ 𝘎̸𝗢⃥,̸ 𝘊̸𝗔⃥𝘕̸ 𝘠̸𝗢⃥𝘜̸?⃥”

“Wêll, ñêï†hêr ¢åñ ¥ðµ!” Pat finally slid all the way out of his cocoon-hammock-nest-thing, his form unfurling to land on the floor with a heavy thud. He arched his back, drumming his talons against wood.

Eye Guy lightly shook his head, began pacing in small, tight circles.

“𝗬⃥𝘖̸𝗨⃥ 𝗦⃥𝘏̸𝗢⃥𝘜̸𝗟⃥𝘋̸ 𝘊̸𝗔⃥𝘙̸𝗘⃥,̸” he responded after a moment, “𝗕⃥𝘌̸𝗖⃥𝘈̸𝗨⃥𝘚̸𝗘⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘏̸𝗘⃥ 𝗦⃥𝘜̸𝗗⃥𝘋̸𝗘⃥𝘕̸ 𝘓̸𝗔⃥𝘊̸𝗞⃥ 𝗢⃥𝘍̸ 𝘈̸ 𝘔̸𝗢⃥𝘖̸𝗡⃥ 𝗪⃥𝘖̸𝗨⃥𝘓̸𝗗⃥ 𝗙⃥𝘜̸𝗖⃥𝘒̸ 𝘜̸𝗣⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘏̸𝗜⃥𝘚̸ 𝘗̸𝗟⃥𝘈̸𝗡⃥𝘌̸𝗧⃥ 𝗜⃥𝘕̸ 𝘈̸ 𝘏̸𝗨⃥𝘎̸𝗘⃥ 𝗪⃥𝘈̸𝗬⃥.̸”

He halted, all eyes now focusing on his host. “𝗪⃥𝘏̸𝗜⃥𝘊̸𝗛⃥ 𝗠⃥𝘌̸𝗔⃥𝘕̸𝗦⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘏̸𝗔⃥𝘛̸ 𝗬⃥𝘖̸𝗨⃥𝘙̸ 𝘗̸𝗥⃥𝘌̸𝗖⃥𝘐̸𝗢⃥𝘜̸𝗦⃥ 𝗖⃥𝘖̸𝗟⃥𝘓̸𝗘⃥𝘊̸𝗧⃥𝘐̸𝗢⃥𝘕̸𝗦⃥ 𝗪⃥𝘖̸𝗨⃥𝘓̸𝗗⃥ 𝗕⃥𝘌̸ 𝘍̸𝗨⃥𝘊̸𝗞⃥𝘌̸𝗗⃥ 𝗨⃥𝘗̸ 𝘐̸𝗡⃥ 𝗔⃥ 𝗛⃥𝘜̸𝗚⃥𝘌̸ 𝘞̸𝗔⃥𝘠̸.⃥”

He crawled a few paces closer, only stopping once he was a mere few inches away from getting in Pat’s face. “'⃥𝘔̸𝗔⃥𝘛̸𝗧⃥𝘌̸𝗥⃥ 𝗢⃥𝘍̸ 𝘍̸𝗔⃥𝘊̸𝗧⃥,̸ 𝘈̸𝗡⃥𝘠̸ 𝘈̸𝗡⃥𝘋̸ 𝘈̸𝗟⃥𝘓̸ 𝘖̸𝗙⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘏̸𝗘⃥ 𝗕⃥𝘜̸𝗦⃥𝘐̸𝗡⃥𝘌̸𝗦⃥𝘚̸𝗘⃥𝘚̸ 𝘏̸𝗘⃥𝘙̸𝗘⃥ 𝗪⃥𝘖̸𝗨⃥𝘓̸𝗗⃥ 𝗕⃥𝘌̸ 𝘍̸𝗨⃥𝘊̸𝗞⃥𝘌̸𝗗⃥ 𝗨⃥𝘗̸ 𝘐̸𝗡⃥ 𝗔⃥ 𝗛⃥𝘜̸𝗚⃥𝘌̸ 𝘞̸𝗔⃥𝘠̸.⃥”

Silence.

Though he didn’t shrink back, still baring his fangs and fuming…there was no denying how Pat stiffened. As quick as he was to mask the spark of anxiety in his eyes, he was somehow still far too late.

Sol swallowed a lump in their throat. Even with how well they’d gotten to know him, they’d never really thought that Pat could actually be…perturbed by anything, considering the hobbies he carried out.

It wouldn’t have taken a genius to guess that Eye Guy had a hidden-in-plain-sight lair of his own. Was it connected to The Abnormal Orchard? If so, how? Why?

Not only that, but Sol could remember a few of Pat’s semi-recent ranting-sessions; all vague venting about some other abomination. There was no way aforementioned monster wasn’t the ‘HE’ Eye Guy had admitted to involving with whatever ritual was on the table.

But that other name that had been brought up…Ah’ Mung-Stus. Sol had never heard anything like that from Pat.

Who—or what—was this other creature? And what did any of this have to do with the moon?

Without warning, Eye Guy shifted in place.

“𝗝⃥𝘜̸𝗦⃥𝘛̸ 𝘚̸𝗢⃥𝘔̸𝗘⃥𝘛̸𝗛⃥𝘐̸𝗡⃥𝘎̸ 𝘌̸𝗟⃥𝘚̸𝗘⃥ 𝗙⃥𝘖̸𝗥⃥ 𝗬⃥𝘖̸𝗨⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘖̸ 𝘛̸𝗛⃥𝘐̸𝗡⃥𝘒̸ 𝘈̸𝗕⃥𝘖̸𝗨⃥𝘛̸,⃥ 𝗦⃥𝘐̸𝗡⃥𝘊̸𝗘⃥ 𝗬⃥𝘖̸𝗨⃥ 𝗪⃥𝘈̸𝗡⃥𝘛̸ 𝘛̸𝗢⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘙̸𝗬⃥ 𝗔⃥𝘕̸𝗗⃥ 𝗗⃥𝘙̸𝗔⃥𝘎̸ 𝘔̸𝗘⃥ 𝗜⃥𝘕̸𝗧⃥𝘖̸ 𝘠̸𝗢⃥𝘜̸𝗥⃥ 𝗣⃥𝘌̸𝗧⃥𝘛̸𝗬⃥ 𝗜⃥𝘚̸𝗦⃥𝘜̸𝗘⃥𝘚̸,” he declared, turning away to crawl toward the attic window. He paused as his hands grasped the edges of the hollow frame once again.

“𝗧⃥𝘏̸𝗘⃥ 𝗥⃥𝘐̸𝗧⃥𝘜̸𝗔⃥𝘓̸'⃥𝘚̸ 𝘎̸𝗢⃥𝘕̸𝗡⃥𝘈̸ 𝘉̸𝗘⃥ 𝗛⃥𝘌̸𝗟⃥𝘋̸ 𝘖̸𝗡⃥ 𝗠⃥𝘠̸ 𝘛̸𝗨⃥𝘙̸𝗙⃥.̸ 𝘕̸𝗘⃥𝘜̸𝗧⃥𝘙̸𝗔⃥𝘓̸ 𝘗̸𝗟⃥𝘈̸𝗬⃥𝘐̸𝗡⃥𝘎̸-⃥𝘍̸𝗜⃥𝘌̸𝗟⃥𝘋̸;⃥ 𝗬⃥𝘖̸𝗨⃥ 𝗞⃥𝘕̸𝗢⃥𝘞̸ 𝘏̸𝗢⃥𝘞̸ 𝘛̸𝗢⃥ 𝗙⃥𝘐̸𝗡⃥𝘋̸ 𝘐̸𝗧⃥.̸𝗬⃥𝘖̸𝗨⃥ 𝗞⃥𝘕̸𝗢⃥𝘞̸ 𝘛̸𝗛⃥𝘌̸ 𝘛̸𝗜⃥𝘔̸𝗜⃥𝘕̸𝗚⃥,̸ 𝘗̸𝗟⃥𝘜̸𝗦⃥ 𝗔⃥𝘓̸𝗟⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘏̸𝗘⃥ 𝗢⃥𝘛̸𝗛⃥𝘌̸𝗥⃥ 𝗥⃥𝘌̸𝗤⃥𝘜̸𝗜⃥𝘙̸𝗘⃥𝘔̸𝗘⃥𝘕̸𝗧⃥𝘚̸.⃥”

A few of the watery orbs lining Eye Guy’s shoulders rolled over to stare at Pat. And for the very first time that night, Pat glanced away.

“𝗢⃥𝘕̸𝗘⃥ 𝗡⃥𝘐̸𝗚⃥𝘏̸𝗧⃥.̸ 𝘠̸𝗢⃥𝘜̸ 𝘎̸𝗨⃥𝘠̸𝗦⃥'̸𝗟⃥𝘓̸ 𝘑̸𝗨⃥𝘚̸𝗧⃥ 𝗛⃥𝘈̸𝗩⃥𝘌̸ 𝘛̸𝗢⃥ 𝗕⃥𝘌̸ 𝘕̸𝗘⃥𝘈̸𝗥⃥ 𝗘⃥𝘈̸𝗖⃥𝘏̸ 𝘖̸𝗧⃥𝘏̸𝗘⃥𝘙̸ 𝘍̸𝗢⃥𝘙̸ 𝘖̸𝗡⃥𝘌̸ 𝘕̸𝗜⃥𝘎̸𝗛⃥𝘛̸.⃥ 𝗔⃥𝘕̸𝗗⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘏̸𝗘⃥𝘕̸ 𝘠̸𝗢⃥𝘜̸ 𝘊̸𝗔⃥𝘕̸ 𝘉̸𝗢⃥𝘛̸𝗛⃥ 𝗚⃥𝘖̸ 𝘉̸𝗔⃥𝘊̸𝗞⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘖̸ 𝘠̸𝗢⃥𝘜̸𝗥⃥ 𝗦⃥𝘊̸𝗛⃥𝘌̸𝗠⃥𝘐̸𝗡⃥𝘎̸ 𝘗̸𝗥⃥𝘖̸𝗝⃥𝘌̸𝗖⃥𝘛̸𝗦⃥ 𝗙⃥𝘖̸𝗥⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘏̸𝗘⃥ 𝗡⃥𝘌̸𝗫⃥𝘛̸ 𝘍̸𝗘⃥𝘞̸ 𝘔̸𝗜⃥𝘓̸𝗟⃥𝘌̸𝗡⃥𝘕̸𝗜⃥𝘈̸,” Eye Guy concluded.

And with that, he reared back and dove through the window. All the smoke that had accompanied him was suddenly drawn out after him, like he’d opened up some kind of invisible vacuum. It took a long few moments, but eventually the air was clear again.

Slowly-but-surely, the lively sounds of various nocturnes echoed through the world outside the museum.

Even so, Sol didn’t move, no matter how much their cramped muscles screamed at them to.

Not until Pat climbed back onto his cocoon-hammock-nest-thing and turned his head to regard their hiding spot. The Illuminati’s Cousin had finally closed, disappearing from his forehead altogether.

“Çðå§† ï§ ¢lêår,” he called, his voice drenched in something that was soft yet bitter.

Sol gently tapped Charcoal on the shoulder. He finally closed his mouth, smothering the flame that had been part of their cover for what felt like hours. As the cat hopped away from his owner’s lap to stretch, Sol clambered out of the crawl space, quickly getting to their feet almost like a soldier called to attention.

They reached into their jacket, palming their flint striker-knife. They couldn’t help it; as dangerous as it could be, it just made for a shockingly good stim-toy at times.

“...So.” Sol chewed their lip. “I take it the moon is very angry or something?”

“ñð† qµï†ê,” Pat replied as he curled back up, his pale, shining eyes contemplative and…wait, was that an iota of actual dread? “Ì†'§ å† rï§k ð£ gê††ïñg êå†êñ ïñ å lï††lê whïlê.”

“Oh.” Sol rocked back and forth on their heels, not sure what else they could really say to that. Still, they were nothing if not tenacious, so they pressed on. “Eaten by what, exactly?”

Pat clicked his many teeth again, eyes tracing all the network of the silk he’d woven to make himself a proper den after going far, far too long without one.

“...¥'kñðw †hê å§†êrðïÐ †hå† êñ†êrêÐ Èår†h'§ ðrßï† åßðµ† å mðñ†h ågð?”

Sol nodded, politely ignoring how their question had gone unanswered. “Yeah. 2024 PT5. What about it?”

A hollow chuckle slithered up and out of whatever misshapen lungs were hiding inside Pat’s system.

He glanced down at his mortal companion, his mouth stretching much too quickly and fluidly to form a wry, exhausted grin on his features. “Älrïgh†. ñðw, †êll mê êvêr¥†hïñg ¥ðµ kñðw åßðµ† åggrê§ïvê mïmï¢r¥…”

@sammys-magical-au @inkbedou

#my writing #my stories #goretober 2024 #a week of goretober 2024 #my fanegos #fanmade egos #leviathanpat #matpat #egopats #matthew patrick #sol magee #sol the semi-cultist #gtlive ash #ash egos #colosseptic #jacksepticeye #septicegos #sean mcloughlin

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hats-off-to-hermes · 2 years ago

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DEVOTIONAL ACTS - Archangel Raphael

Welcome back to the Archangel Devotional acts series. Today we're doing Raphael as requested by @rosie-the-lancs-witch. Thank you!

Read the others here: Archangel Michael, Archangel Uriel, Archangel Haniel, Archangel Jophiel, Archangel Zadkiel, Archangel Gabriel

Archangel Raphael is the angel of healing, also regarded as "He Who Heals". He can help our physical, mental, and emotional healing and works alongside Gabriel with matters of communication to lead to healing. He is associated with the heart energy center.

🌸 Dressing intentionally with green accessories can keep Raphael's energy around you

🌸 If you have crystals, emeralds, green aventurine, and malachite may be great to work with for Raphael

🌸 In terms of working with Raphael, you can meditate with him in mind to bring you healing via all channels. Balancing your health will help you holistically

🌸 You can also use those crystals and associated items with Raphael in healing spells or rituals (such as charging sigils, or in spell bottles)

🌸 If you're in need of help or healing, you can pray to Raphael for assistance. He can lead you to the right people to talk to and get support from

🌸 If you are working on self healing, you can ask for Raphael to be by your side while doing do. His unconditional love and energy can fuel your actions and thoughts to guide you

🌸 Trust your intuition with Raphael in your thoughts, as he can communicate ideas through intuition, thoughts, ideas, dreams and other inner methods.

🌸 Pray a novena to Archangel Raphael

🌸 You can find some wonderful prayers out there for Raphael

🌸 If a loved one needs some healing or help, you can pray to Raphael for guidance on what to do, or to be by your loved one's side, for their highest good

🌸 If you're suffering with addiction, you can call on the help of Raphael

🌸 Travelers, nurses, physicians and medical workers can benefit from praying to Raphael and asking for his guidance

🌸 As the angel of Mercury, you can ask for Raphael's help in communication matters (particularly with speed as well. Sometimes I ask for Mercury related help when it comes to mail being safe)

🌸 Journal to Raphael and write him letters

🌸 You can ask for Raphael's guidance in spiritual alchemy and transmuting something negative into something positive

🌸 Tip from @saintlyfawn to write your worries, anxieties etc. on strips of paper and then put them into a container associated with Raphael (colour based, design based etc). He can handle them from there!

🌸 Raphael can also help with physical needs being met such as food, clothing, shelter and things needed for professions or studies

Have anymore? Feel free to comment them :)

#qui.devotion #archangels #archangel devotional acts #devotional acts #angel devotionals #angel devotional acts #angelic #raphael #archangel raphael #archangel raphael devotional acts #angel of healing

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ratsoh-writes · 11 days ago

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*A lot of the fabrics are seasonal, but there is plenty of variety if you're willing to look. ...But Malachite is still pondering the conversation.*

....Just out of curiosities sake, if you don't mind my asking. Is there something in particular you would like to see? A place to visit in Ebbott? Or somewhere else?

Pearl ponders the question for a moment

Pearl: hmm .. probably the inner city… some of it is accessible, but only a little section.

Pearl sighs

Pearl: I won’t pretend that it should be done for everything, there has to be some benefit to the surface too, and right now hadal monsters don’t make a dent in the economy. We sell, but we don’t buy.

Something you’ve learned about hadal culture is that they’re very minimalist, completely unlike the vast majority of monster kind. In the sea, keeping possessions is difficult, so only the necessities are made, and then used until unusable. So while these monsters are getting rich off of what the sea gives away, they aren’t really participating in what the surface dwellers sell

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mysticonsheadcanons · 2 months ago

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Mysticons Next Quest 2 Episode 11: An Unburied Conflict

Note: I know I named the elvish town, then just kept calling it the elvish town. I named it later, and didn't want to rewrite every instance of it.

Arkayna sees Em researching the mine, and asks about it. Em says that she was just curious about both the elvish and dwarvish equipment at the mine, and wondered which group worked at the mine first. Just then, Queen Goodfey calls the Mysticons to the palace.

They hurry to the palace, as Queen Goodfey seemed worried about what happened. Queen Goodfey tells them that there is a conflict between the elvish town, Liadon, and Rudick’s Hollow. Em wonders if it has anything to do with the past, and Queen Goodfey reveals that there was a war centuries ago, but when the mine was sealed in a way that the mine couldn’t possibly break through, the two groups made a peace treaty, knowing that continuing the war for a resource they couldn’t get wouldn’t benefit either party. They decide to split up, to see if there’s anything they can do to help.

Em, Zarya, and Sharise go to Rudick’s Hollow, where they find a group of elves attacking. They manage to help fend off the attack, and the elves leave. Various dwarves in the village talk about how the elves from the village are stealing the mine, and that the elvish town was where Necrafa initially came from, and assumes that the elves there still worship Necrafa.

Meanwhile, Piper, Arkayna, and Choko are in the elvish town, and they see some dwarves fighting against the elves, and thanks to the Mysticons’ previous visits to Rudick’s Hollow, they decide to give the Mysticons a day to make the elves concede that the mine should belong to Rudick’s Hollow before leaving. The elves thank the Mysticons for helping them get rid of the dwarves, and they claim that the dwarves will never care about anything other than money, and that they probably don’t care who uses the precious minerals they use, as well as they’re paid.

The Mysticons regroup in Rudick’s Hollow, as they believe that Em’s parents would realize that there is more to the story, and feel as though they would listen to what the Mysticons have to say. Citrine and Malachite tell them about how there was a letter that was sent to the mayor of Rudick’s Hollow from the elves, saying that they will take the mine back if Rudick’s Hollow doesn’t give up rights to the mine. Zarya brings up that, as the attacks on both villages happened at the same time, perhaps the elves had enough warning that Rudick’s Hollow wouldn’t agree. Malachite also tells them that dwarves are allowed to go to the mine certain days, but not others, as part of a treaty that the elves gave to give some time in the mine until they come to their senses. Malachite thinks it’s to make themselves look more reasonable than those at Rudick’s Hollow, but Piper says that she’s not sure.

They go to the mayor of the elvish town, and while they try to reason with him, he doesn’t listen. They find time when he leaves briefly to snoop through the office, and they not only find out that the elvish village got the same letter as Rudick’s Hollow, but they were also supposedly given special days to go into the mines from the mayor of Rudick’s Hollow. As they suspect someone is putting them up to it, they go back to the mine.

At the mine, they find Larine, working on a mask, and putting minerals on certain places of it. A fight ensues, and Sharise threatens to tell both settlements what’s really going on. Larine laughs, saying that neither place will ever fully be able to trust them, since she could convince them that they are siding with a group due to connections. Piper says that she doesn’t have any connection to the town, and Larine smirks saying that that Piper is either lying, or unaware. A fight ensues, and while the Mysticons are forced to flee, as Larine’s magic is extremely strong and too much fighting would make the mine unstable, Choko does get some of the mysterious mineral.

As they are leaving, the Mysticons talk about what they learned. Zarya asks Piper if she really doesn’t know what Larine was talking about, and Piper admits that she doesn’t, but it does worry her. While Arkayna admits that it is worrying, especially since they don’t know what Larine would tell Liadon so they can’t counteract it, she is confident that stopping Larine will stop the conflict.

#Mysticons #Fanwork #Fan episode #Episode Description #Episode 11 #Mysticons Next Quest #An Unburied Conflict

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lonesilverw0lf · 2 years ago

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Team BLGA

Quick disclaimer, this is so late because Tumblr wouldn’t let me reblog this post! I had it all written down and hit reblog, it showed that it took, but it somehow didn’t. It took me way to long to figure that out. And then when I tried again, this time from my own reblog, it wouldn’t take. Neither @dragonotaku-justineverything or @madmanwonder posts worked. No matter what I’ve tried, I can’t add to the post. So I’ll add on anyway. Rant over. Now just pretend that this is underneath the afore-linked post.

Haha, this is great! We’ve seen how they dynamics can get with just Bleiss, now all of BLGA? I feel bad for Glynda. Aspirin can only go so far with headaches. Ask me how I know. Bleiss hates Weiss already so all the rest of the swaps would only amplify that. And it would totally be an Ozpin move to have RWBY and BLGA next door neighbors while JNPR is still across the hall. What do we want? Conflict! Where do we want it? EVERYWHERE! I can see some others asking Jaune how he deals with practically living with all these girls and he’s all, “well, it’s not too different from home. Living with seven sisters gives you plenty of practice. And don’t get me started on my cousins.” Perhaps that’s why he’s so dense with their affections; he’s in “survive family chaos” mode so he’s ignoring it. The things you don’t realize as you’re growing up. That and his lack of self-esteem would make him mistranslate their advances as we’ve seen with Pyr.

These are just a few side things I had for them.

Bluby

Now I know that if Bluby and Yue exist then Ruby and Yang wouldn’t and vice versa, but for this I’m just going to ignore that fact for the time being. Bluby being reserved and not speaking unless spoken to outside of her few friends and family is great. Her confidence in front of others can be a front, a shield she developed to hide her insecurities. Part of her arc is learning to trust others and letting yourself be vulnerable. She learned how to be sneaky with how Yue is. She’s elected as leader to force her to make decisions for the benefit of others? Not sure what her Semblance would be. Being reserved and growing up fast could lend itself to a similar speed type, or a partial invisibility. Maybe a misdirection type since Jack Sparrow is so good at that. Shinji Hirako from Bleach had a nice ‘Inverted Sight’ Shikai. She can make friends with Jaune at first because she marks him as easy to use for her own benefit, like Jack does with Will, until she learns to be an actual friend.

Bleiss

With how much stuff there is of Bleiss, I don’t have much to add here but did have a thought while thinking of the others’ Semblances: Glyphs are a rare genealogy Semblance and if she’s Jaques’ bastard, should she not have Glyphs since he’s not a Schnee? If she’s Weiss abandoned twin then sure, but it was a thought. I can totally see Jaques abandoning her as soon as she’s born showing his dark hair, an Oedipus situation where the father demands the newborn be killed but is abandoned instead. While it wouldn’t change much in her personality or lifestyle if she was a bastard vs abandoned, unless there was some weird twist of fate where she does gain Glyphs it would change her fighting style. And her team, I’ve always seen her leading the Malachites, Neo, and Neon. Putting her on BLGA would make an issue there, but putting Neon or Neo in charge could balance that out. Neon can still be old friends with Bleiss to keep that connection with the teams. NNMM, Nutmeg? Names are not my strong suit.

Yue

Yang is a boxer and a brawler with a temper out for a good fight, but Yue is more calculated and in control. Kickboxing is already covered by Mercury who is just as calculating and cool but doesn’t fight for anyone really, but what about Muy Thai? Strike a nice balance between the two. For her, I’d give a Semblance that’s centered more on reflecting or redirecting damage than absorbing it. I doubt that Yue would want a motorcycle because they are more dangerous than cars. Having a bit of a control freak personality and learning to tone it down is a start for her arc. Perhaps she’s a little overprotective as well, bit of a helicopter parent without realizing how damaging it could be? Keeping a strong front that needs no help even when she really does is great. She could also put a lot of stock in strength like Raven, because to her if you’re not strong you can’t protect those you love. Which leads to Yue, like Raven who she despises, to overlook some of the other kinds of strength to add more internal conflict. Ignoring your feelings isn’t healthy Yue. I can see it being a game to Yang among others to see how to get Yue to laugh. No Yang, just because you love puns so much doesn’t mean that it’s the height of comedy. All pranks do is annoy her if done to others and piss her off if done to her or her friends. Perhaps something simple gets her like, “What does the cabbage man use to repair his cabbage wagon? A cabbage patch!” I’ve used that joke in real life and it never fails to get most people rolling. She is very weak to cute critters.

Aiko

Maybe have their mothers being twins, making them cousins who could pass as sisters. Heck to add more to it, how about their dads are brothers from another family. She could be the one to out Blake as a Faunus for more conflict. She gives Aunty Kali updates and tries to get Blake to call herself. Despite her more carefree personality and daydreaming habit, she’s easily one of the smartest students. Much to the surprise of everyone. A bit naïve, not stupid. I love the idea that she reads comics to Blake’s books, but what if she leans more towards shojo manga. She can be still cool with normal comics, but most comics I see are geared towards guys and manga can easily fill her romantic fantasies. She and Jaune could have dance offs after she learns he can dance. Since she’s more extroverted and confident than Blake, a ninja theme just doesn’t fit with her unless we’re talking Naruto or something. How didn’t he die being a walking traffic cone? Yeah, yeah, plot armor, I get it. My first thought is make her a Samurai, but we have Adam for that. Unless we make Aiko a foil to Adam as well, with his code centered around rage and bloodlust while hers is love and protecting. “Hate only begets more hate. To stop the cycle of violence we must embrace love!” “…You stole that from Naruto.” “But it’s not wrong!” If not a samurai, then how about akin to a Sohei or Ikko-Ikki? They’re a monk type, and Sohei use a naginata to differentiate her enough. I know there’s fighting styles that blend with dancing but I’m trying to keep to the Japanese theme with her. Then again she’s got that Middle Eastern Belly dancer thing and I could be way off base here. She could mix and match a few things. I’m coming up blank for her Semblance. Part of me wants to give her sakura petals but Ruby already has the petals motif. Unless that’s her perfume or a design pattern on some of her clothes. Best guess at current is that she hasn’t discovered it yet. She’s a lover not a fighter, so it’d make sense she spends less time on introspection and aura training. I don’t think Roman had his and he was fighting all the time. “But what is she doing in a school to kill Grimm?” Killing Grimm is just pest control to her. Great spot for her to go all out. And since she doesn’t have lone protagonist syndrome, she can remind Blake of some things that Blake tries to ignore or gloss over. For example fighting for Faunus Rights is good, but remember Blake that there have been many times throughout history where Faunus were Faunus’ biggest enemy. Like have a time where there was serious predator/prey discrimination or even subspecies discrimination within their own kind, a good part of certain slavery rings were supplied by Faunus warlords, what some of those same Faunus did to their own human and Faunus slaves, some of the barbaric traditions they used to have, and other things. I can see the White Fang, or certain parts, ignoring those uncomfortable facts to better push their agenda.

Ying

Depending on if, a big if, Ying is added and how Bleiss is teamed up, Team BBNT would also be in a bit of a spot. Unless madmanwonder has a replacement for Bleiss? The other two are fun. It’s easy to cut her out to reduce the chaos and even some things out, but had some thoughts so I might as well put them out there. Jaune is the only one Ying trusts with her hair. Where Yang has a fiery aesthetic to her Semblance, what if Ying has a lightning one? Just to show how much more dangerous and volatile it is. She can be lowkey jealous of Yang/Yue because they were the one who got to live with a unconditionally loving and supportive parental figure, roof over her head, three square meals a day, easy access to clean and hot water, not on the run from authorities for a life she didn’t chose, proper education, had professional doctors, could make friends who wouldn’t literally stab you in the back over a slice of bread, and what not. Sure Ying might be a better fighter but she’s really lacking in civil life where fists don’t work. B(B?)NT and NNMM as JNPR neighbors while RWBY and BLGA are across the hall? Poor hallway.

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