#STAY BY THE SEA YOU INTERLOPER

[disast3rtransp0rt]

catch up game

Thanks to my beautiful wife for the tag, @artemisthehuntress

Last Song: “Hell Bent for Leather” by Judas Priest 

Last Movie: Does looking up the shot of Sky’s mic pack in the LITA special episode count? If not, it might have been Rocky Horror Picture Show with the Clown Car.

Currently Watching: ...KinnPorsche. 

Currently Reading: “Warm Bodies” by Isaac Marion

Currently Craving: A big ol’ hug from my bestie and also maybe my Dad’s home-smoked BBQ pulled pork. Specifically the kind he makes in the barrel smoker cause that thing was blessed by the Pig Gods or some shit.

Tagging, no pressure: @spell-eye-cup @dragonflylady77 @fuckyeah-itme @eggwars @just-slightly-chayotic

[aheathen-conceivably]

🎶 Once upon a time you dressed so fine, threw the bums a dime in your prime, didn't you? 🎶

In another town, or perhaps even just another year, the air wouldn’t have parted at a woman clad in red, rage, and determination. But the drink was back, and with it had come even more drifters looking for work. More than ever, they traversed the country along Route 66, bringing with them a sense of change in the dusty air. Their whispers told of a promised land of ever present sunshine, one with bountiful jobs in orchards along the sea. They went to bars with stories of the open road, or shipped letters from small town posts telling of reinventing oneself with as little as a few day’s drive. 

So with every story, every failed farm, and even every hairbrained dream of a second son out east, the towns along Route 66 began to burst to life. So much so that it was nearly impossible to tell who was a stranger in Strangerville any longer; there was little differentiating between who was there to exploit and cheat their way to success, or who was there to simply try and do right by themselves and their family. Perhaps they were often indistinguishable. 

Certainty not even the most penetrative stare could have guessed if the determination and rage on the face of the woman in red was because she was there to exploit anyone in her path, or just to do right by her family. She could feel each and every gaze leveled in her direction, and she wasn’t stupid enough to think that it was simply distrustful curiosity. As a matter of fact, she knew that it wasn’t, because she was counting on it.

Her heels moved along the same road that took the drifters out West, clicking with purpose as they drew closer to the saloon at the edge of town. When she had first arrived, Josephine would go out of her way to look through the boarded up windows and splintered siding there, imaging what it would feel like to sit in the dim bar, alight with the swirl of strangers’ energy as her own melancholia was lifted by the constant hum of conversation in the air. 

Eventually, she had stopped allowing herself even that. The stares weren’t worth it, and the throes of the depression seemed just as endless as the grip of prohibition; her nights at the club were just as likely to magically materialize as she was to get a goddamn legal drink ever again. But now, the planks across the door had been lifted, and she would rather run straight into the desert than ever let them drive her into that farmhouse ever again.

Still her feet paused at the threshold, even as the golden handle beckoned to her. She wanted to reach for it, to be giddy and excited to set foot in a bar again. It was a thought that shouldn’t have held so much independence, but it did. Part of her felt like she belonged there, where everyone went to forget their worries and melt into one communal existence as the dark windows and whiskey shielded them from the world beyond.

Only she wasn’t there for some celebratory drink. She was there to beg. As her hand lifted from its side she went over the same words she had told herself since Gio had come running after her, begging apologies and extending promises. For Violette. You’re staying for Violette. This is for her, the money, the effort, the forgiveness. You can do it. For Violette. 

The desert sunshine gave way to a large, dark room hiding just beyond a pair of saloon doors. Amidst the smell of dust and old whiskey stood a lone woman in the center of the space, busy sweeping the grime that had accumulated from years of disuse. She seemed to sense the interloper’s presence without even looking up, “We ain’t open yet. Come back ‘round dusk and I can serve you a drink.”

Josephine cursed under her breath. She had been prepared for a man, absorbed their stares every step of the way like fuel for the one she expected to find here. Every element of her appearance had been thoughtfully applied just for him, to immediately catch his eye and then either disarm or entice him depending on how he reacted to her. Because she knew that all men fell into two simple categories: those who could be seduced by simpering, and those who were wooed by bravado. Both were easy for her, and despite their best attempts to put her in her place afterward, all it took was one look for Josephine to know which one to exploit to get what she needed. 

But a woman was trickier. They could cloak their attraction or their true intentions even from the first glance, their composure almost always outweighing their weaknesses; and this woman, something about the way she didn’t even bother to look up at the flash of color in her periphery told Josephine that it would be impossible to read her. So she took a gamble.

She pushed her gloved hands forward, swinging open the saloon doors and striding into the room. The purposeful clicking of her heels in the quiet still didn’t succeed in getting the woman’s attention, “I’m not here for a drink. I’m here for a job.”

The woman kept cleaning, a derisive huff leaving her mouth and masking her speech so that Josephine had to strain to hear her words, “Yeah you and everybody else in this town, sweetheart.” 

For Violette. You’re doing it for Violette. “Well can everybody else in this town sling double what you would in a night?”

The woman finally raised her eyes to look at who had strode into her bar, challenging her with words if not just in presence. A sort of wry amusement played on her face as she took in the heavily made up woman in front of her, before she returned back to hardened annoyance, “That’s mighty big talk for someone who looks like she just flew in from California. What makes you think you’re so special, huh?”

In answer Josephine stared straight at her, letting a crooked smile transform her face in the way that she knew made her look best. Then she put her hand on her hip and jutted out her foot, an ounce of her magnetism and confidence returning to her and radiating through the room.

For the briefest moment, Josephine thought that she had judged correctly. The woman finally moved the broom out from between them, opening her shoulders in Jo's direction and giving her her full attention for the first time since she walked in the door. Then her hand tightened on the broomstick, and Josephine simply hoped that it was from suppressed discomfort.

Only then her other hand lifted, pointing over Jo's shoulder and toward the door. The annoyance in her voice told Jo that she was unimpressed with the little show of vanity that she had tried to put on. “Fine. I get it. You think no red-blooded man would turn you down. That it? Well there's no man here for you to seduce.”

Jo almost turned on her heel then, more outraged then defeated, but the annoyance on the woman’s face subsided just long enough for a dismissive smile to crack through, “But if you think you can outsell me, come back tonight. You’re right, then you got a job. But you don’t, and you never step foot in my bar again. Understood?”

[vickysaurus-art]

One paleoart for each period since the Cryogenian

Thanks to the timeline on my walls that I've been trying to fill in with my art, I have now reached the point where I've done paleoart for every single period of the Phanerozoic, plus the Ediacaran and Cryogenian! That is to say, every period of the last 700 million years. So with that milestone, I thought it'd be fun to go through those periods in order and show off one paleoart of mine for each!

Cryogenian

In the Cryogenian, the Earth completely froze over. Twice! Life wasn't much to look at yet, but I enjoyed drawing what our planet might have looked like at the time. The girdle of lakes at the left is the equator, which may have had ice-free patches.

Ediacaran

When the ice retreated, animals first began to blossom into their endless forms most beautiful. Ediacaran life was strange and quite unlike the creatures that would come later, but it was nonetheless an incredibly important chapter in life's history. Here we see the Ediacaran weirdos washing up on shore after a storm.

Cambrian

The Cambrian explosion brought much more recognisable creatures. But one thing that's easy to miss is that they were all tiny! All of them? No, Anomalocaris was, with a length of about 40 cm, the dragon of the Cambrian.

Ordovician

Life continued to diversify in the Ordovician, and among this diversity were the cephalopods. They produced the largest animals yet to exist, the orthocones, who hung vertically in the water column and decended upon their prey like a claw game.

Silurian

Although fungi and bacteria had already made forays onto the land deep in the past, things began to get busier there in the Silurian. But these horseshoe crabs, and their larger cousins the sea scorpions, have not come to the shore to stay, but to mate and lay eggs. Unfortunately for the horseshoe crabs, they have come to the very same shore.

Devonian

Our own vertebrate ancestors, like Tiktaalik, were pretty late to the party, only taking their first steps on land in the late Devonian. That's no knock against them - there was plenty to do underwater! This Tiktaalik is busy guarding his eggs while his mate is busy hunting, for example. Who has time to step on land?

Carboniferous

The end of the Carboniferous saw some quite large bugs, like these two Mazothairos chasing off an interloping Meganeura. They're representatives of a pretty interesting group of basal insects called the Palaeodictyoptera, who have a set of weird little extra wings on their thorax.

Permian

Among the many fantastic creatures of the Permian were our own cousins, the synapsids, like these lovey-dovey Moschops. As you can see, this picture and the previous one are done in coloured pencils instead of watercolour, because they're the oldest images I'm including in this post. I only very rarely used watercolours before this year. I think it means I should do some more Permian art, it's such a cool and underexposed period.

Triassic

One mass extinction later, the archosaurs are diversifying all over Triassic Pangaea. Here we have the three main groups of them: Paratypothorax, a pseudosuchian in the background; Peteinosaurus, a pterosaur on top of the cliff; and Procompsognathus, a dinosaur climbing the cliff.

Jurassic

I had three different option for Jurassic paleoart to showcase, so I picked the most experimental one. These backlit insects are not butterflies, but kalligrammatids, a group of large-winged neuroptera, some of which even mimicked maniraptoran dinosaurs like this iridescent Caihong with their patterns.

Cretaceous

The Cretaceous featured some of life's most gorgeous crescendos of diversity, like the Yixian formation, where a Psitaccosaurus wants to visit the favourite tree of a group of Sinosauropteryxes, who are having none of it. This is still one of my favourite pieces I've ever drawn.

Paleogene

The Paleogene featured some of the highest global temperatures of all time, leading to tropical climates all over the planet, including at this lake in what will one day be Messel, Germany. Darwinius, a close cousin to our own ancestors, is having a staredown with the lizard Geiseltaliellus.

Neogene

The world turned colder and dryer in the Neogene, leading to the spread of large grasslands, like these South American ones. Phorusracos, a large terror bird, has caught a Thoatherium on the edge of the forest they both live in. South America was an isolated continent for the duration of the Neogene, leading to a quite unique fauna.

Quaternary

The Quaternary, our current period, is marked by the cycle of ice ages regularly freezing the northern hemisphere. But even during the ice ages, spring would come to the mammoth steppes, and these steppe mammoths are happy to celebrate its coming with a bath in the river.

[solrika]

Submarines and specters, aka I'm still thinking about the sad U-boat. This is me taking wild stabs in the dark at characterization and hoping I hit. Characters belong to @littlewestern and @greatwesternway.

~

Something about winter drew out the ghosts. Maybe the biting cold reminded them of the sea. Maybe something about the snow tricked the eye.

"You're moping again," Guadalcanal said, form shifting with every swirling flake.

U-505 had heard that one before, but still he filed it away--moping--with the way Guadalcanal's blurry lips had shaped the word. "Too much time to think, these days," he muttered in reply.

Guadalcanal leant on the railing and peered curiously around the yard. "What are you thinking about?"

The yard was empty, all the other engines gathered inside with the few guests who'd braved the snow. By habit, U-505 paused to look for any listeners anyway before he answered, "You would be better suited to this life."

"Oh?"

"Talking to people." U-505 nodded back towards the building. "Entertaining the crowds."

Guadalcanal shrugged. "You're not too bad at it."

"You are--how do they say? Damning with faint praise."

"Hey." Knocking one chilly shoulder against his, Guadalcanal said, "At least you're here to do it, right?"

"Now you sound like Pioneer," U-505 informed him grumpily. "At least I'm here." He knocked shoulders back, even though it felt like toeing the border of the crush zone. "At least. At least. It should be you, here, hearing these words, not--"

The crunch of snow underfoot. U-505 pivoted to face the newcomer. He was not given to the theatrics of the little planes, his form inclined towards stillness instead. Still he had to force down a snarl at the interloper.

Just a step outside the door, Spitfire raised his hands, palms politely turned in even though he was currently clawless. "Submarine?"

U-505 raised an annoyed eyebrow, snapped, "What do you want?"

"Pioneer was wondering where you went." Spitfire took a few more cautious steps forwards, peering around the yard.

"I am enjoying the weather," U-505 replied flatly.

"Hm." Spitfire gave the yard another pass. "You should come inside." His eyes were sharp, watchful. Oddly serious. Perhaps this is what he had looked like, during the war.

"I am fine in the cold," U-505 said dismissively.

"But everyone is inside," and there went the seriousness, replaced instead with childish pleading. Spitfire added, "It was my mission to find you for Pioneer! How would it look if I came back empty-handed?"

U-505 resisted the urge to heave a sigh. If he caused Spitfire to fail a "mission", the little plane would mope, causing Stuka to become even more insufferable. There would be no peace until Spitfire forgot. "Very well," he said.

"Oh, excellent!" Spitfire beamed. "Besides, it's not good to stay with ghosts."

Raising an eyebrow, "What do you know of ghosts, little plane?"

"Enough to know they make miserable company." Spitfire nodded to himself, eyes flickering serious again for all of a second before he skipped back towards the museum. "Well, come on, then!"

U-505 followed, leaving Guadalcanal to the cold.

[5mind]

"You see, Chumptune?" squawked Dodostep "Fivemind doesn't love you anymore!" But something wasn't right. The mechanical squadron seemed filthier than usual. Their parts didn't fit together correctly. The way they moved was grotesque. Like something else was keeping them together physically. Not to mention, they were out of sync despite supposedly operating on the same AI.

"Dodostep's right." said 'Red' One, as the other 'units' agreed. "I don't know why we wasted our time creating such a thing. Now stay out of our way: It's time this island got some new management."

"That's not- That's- "

Chirptune, as much as she did not want to admit it, had been trying. She had acted out, she had played nice - anything to ensure Fivemind would not divert its affection for her towards this avian interloper.

And despite all her efforts, her creator had been ... well, it had just acted the same as usual. Never distant but ever so unreadable. If anything, it had been checking up on her less.

Until now.

This was wrong.

The red unit - more maroon than red - staggered forward as if held up by invisible strings. The other units followed suit.

"Fivemind?"

There was no response. Not a verbal one at least. Without warning, the unit in dark blue swung her weapon. There was an unusual sharpness in her actions, somehow even more mechanical than the blue ranger that Chirptune knew. The robot bird barely dodged the scrap metal polearm that slammed into where she once was.

Something black and viscous dribbled from the blue unit's elbow joints. Beside her the red ranger stood motionless except for the deep red that flowed from a crack in their plating. And through the cracks, Chirptune saw flesh.

Multiple lines of thought ran through the little bird's processor. This wasn't Fivemind. Fivemind hated her. Dodostep was to blame. Fivemind wanted her dead.

She was a mistake.

And now she was going to be a coward.

She spread her wings and fled, picking up speed until the uncoordinated footsteps of 'Fivemind' behind her faded into the distance. For now...

---

Not too far away, by an otherwise empty industrial dockside, Antares was finishing up for the day. Just gotta push this car (obviously, it's not his) and everything inside it into the sea and he was officially done for the week. See? He can have a good day once in a while.

Unless...

Something airborne and made of metal swooped towards him. He barely had time to react before a panicked mechanical avian slammed right into his shoulder at full speed. There was a loud crack and Antares was down.

Oh, he definitely broke something there. Yeah yeah, he can heal up fast. Didn't make it any less painful.

"What the fuck, man? What did I even do to you?!"

[talesofsorrowandofruin]

Manuscript Search Tag

Thanks for tagging me, @akindofmagictoo and @spuddlespud! :D

Words: poison, personal, smear, submerge, breath, believe, but and boast. These are from The Power and the Glory, Totentanz and Like Snow on Hungry Graves:

Poison:

Ilaran took one look at the gun and rolled his eyes. Of all the absurd weapons to kill someone with! Knives and arrows were silent, poison was insidious and gave the killer a chance to escape, drowning could be passed off as an unfortunate accident. But guns! They were the noisiest, most conspicuous method of killing someone that could be imagined. And they couldn't even be easily hidden in the way a knife could.

Personal:

He also needed to get out of the academy again, study dark magic again, maybe conquer Miavain again... Oh yes, and deal with those damn skrýszel again. He had a personal grudge against that one that electrocuted him.

Smear (warning for violence):

The floor was covered with puddles and smears of blood. Something lay on the carpet. With a shudder Irímé realised it was someone's finger.

Submerge:

A human who jumped into that icy water would have immediately had the breath knocked out of them. Probably their muscles would seize up so badly they wouldn't be able to swim to the surface. Karandren was only half-human. Until now he'd assumed he was immune to the cold. But never before had he been fully submerged in water quite this cold. He gasped. At once water flowed into his mouth and choked him. He struggled to the surface. For several minutes he coughed and wheezed. By the time he recovered enough to dive underwater again, all the fish were gone.

Breath:

Jiarlúr made a choking sound as if she was having difficulty breathing. Abi's words finally jarred Lian out of his state of frozen shock. He quickly went over his cover story. His name was Vieraneth Dimeniesilru, he was a shopkeeper's son from the city of Kashurë on the western coast and spoke the Tholvad dialect, he was just over three thousand years old, and he had never been anywhere near Eldrin in his life. Contrast that with Prince Imrahil Mihasrinsilru, who by now would be almost six thousand years old and who spoke the Eldrin-Savidar dialect. No, even if she investigated she would find nothing to prove he was really her nephew. That thought gave him the courage to look her in the eye and pretend he didn't recognise her.

Believe:

"For years it was believed the merfolk went extinct," Ketevan said quietly. "If a living one was discovered he would be locked up and his scales would be ripped out one at a time. He'd die in agony and no one would care." She gave him that searching look again. "I believe some of the merfolk intermarried with humans. Their descendants wouldn't know what they truly were unless they went into the sea."

But:

For a moment he thought, he almost hoped, it was Rusudan returning. True, he didn't know her any better than he knew Ketevan -- less, perhaps -- but in some way he couldn't explain he preferred her concern to Ketevan's. After thinking about it for a while he realised that it was simply because Rusudan had told him what to do for himself, while Ketevan always told him what she was going to do for him.

Boast:

The High Priest looked around for his guards. They were supposed to stay in the palace out of sight, but to keep an eye on proceedings from the windows. If anything untoward happened they should have rushed out to defend him. So where were they? Their absence put him in an awkward position. He and all the other priests never missed a chance to boast they had no guards and trusted to the gods and saints to protect them. He couldn't call for his guards without revealing he was a hypocrite. There was nothing else for it. He would have to deal with these interlopers himself.

Tagging @novel-emma, @saltysupercomputer, @italiangothicwriteblr, @emelkae, @dogmomwrites, and anyone else who wants to do this! :D Can’t be bothered thinking of new words, so just pick any you want from mine :D

[cryptidinspace]

Dangerous Waters, Chapter Six!

Warning for mentions of fatal vore

“-We’d like anyone with information on the missing student to come forward immediately, and to avoid wandering the halls at night-” 

Sol found himself half-listening to the drone of a man’s voice over a speaker system. He was more interested in his breakfast, grilled fish wrapped in soft seagrass. He had never had anything this good back home, where his meals mostly consisted of whatever animals he could catch, eaten raw. 

This place has its perks after all. According to the announcements, a Merman had vanished last night. Not one day in, and the Mers are already getting snapped up left and right. A dry chuckle left his throat, as he speared another chunk of meat on one sharpened claw. It was common knowledge that Mermaids were stupid creatures, too obsessed with their looks, too weak to fight anything. Of course, fighting off Sea Monsters was a monumental task for anyone, but for a Mermaid? He assumed they’d simply give up the second such a beast entered their field of vision. 

Sirens were different. They were used to territory disputes, fighting off human interlopers, and shredding and devouring foolish sailors. They were a proud people, and would band together in their family groups to take down anything that tried to disturb their peace. And I’m strong. I can handle a Sea Monster alone. 

Your parents couldn’t-

The sudden thought blazed through his mind, vile and unwelcome, and he glared at his plate. His stomach felt twisted now, and his appetite had fled him.

A loud sigh drew his attention, and Sol glanced up through narrowed eyes. Someone had sat next to him, a girl with tendrils of purple hair falling over her face. He recognized her as the girl who had spoken out at their counselor meeting…De`Lune, that was her name. She had insisted that understanding could not exist if they hid their abilities from Mermaids…personally, Sol couldn’t care less about unity, but he figured that she was still right. 

“Hey.” He mumbled, leaning back and folding his arms. “Can I help you?”

She seemed startled for a moment, before arching one eyebrow. “Ex-CUSE me??”

He simply blinked back at her. “What?”

A loud gasp of disbelief left her, and she placed one hand on her hip. “I was just going to come say hi! But you sure are rude, huh?” 

Sol shrugged. “I guess.” He was trying to stay nonchalant, yet his face flushed. It had been a long time since he had interacted socially with anyone…most Sirens lived in little family groups, having little connection with others. And his family group was long dead, leaving him with no idea how to talk to this girl. And I’ve been avoiding those ridiculous “mating season” gatherings… 

She scoffed again, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. “I cannot believe you.” Despite this, she leaned forward to look at him with a sort of lazy smile. “I’m De`Lune Claremont.” 

“Sol, Vengaza.” So, she was still sitting here, surprisingly. He glanced around the vast cafeteria, noting that most sirens were sitting alone, some even hovering near the ceiling and balancing trays on their tails, all to avoid talking to anyone. At least I’m not the only one. “Again. Do you want something…?”

De`Lune shot him a glare, before throwing her hands up. “I just wanna talk to someone!” She hissed. “Everyone here is so damn boring. All the other sirens are just grumbling about being away from their mamas.” She snorted, clearly in disgust. “I can’t figure out why any of them are here in the first place.”

Well, I doubt they’re all here for the same purpose as me. That would be interesting, though. “Who knows.” He forced himself to take another bite of fish. God, it was so good. 

“I’m here because I actually wanted to get to know Sea Monsters and Mers n stuff. Aren’t you the least bit curious about them? Everyone says Mermaids are dumb, and Sea Monsters wanna eat everyone. Is that true, or is there more to it?” She leaned closer to him, eyes glinting with feverish interest. 

Very slowly, Sol brought another piece of fish to his mouth, giving her a concerned stare in response. “Is’ not natural for sirens to care ‘bout that stuff.” 

“UGH.” Her tail lashed, spiky fins flaring. “Ya’ll got no sense of adventure!” 

“Mmmmhm. And what adventure are you looking for?” 

Her eyes lit up at the question. “Well, with the Mers, I want to figure them out. Why are they so afraid? Why aren’t they known for fighting back? I have some excellent theories on the matter-” Sol watched with begrudging curiosity as she pulled a well-worn notebook from her bag. “I think it’s a psychological thing, a byproduct of their biology.” She sighed again, louder this time. “But I can’t really figure it out until I talk to them.” Her grin widened, and her hand crept closer to Sol’s. “I could use a research partner…” 

He was about to refuse her completely, when an idea struck him. De`Lune was a big talker, a forward thinker. She could charm her way through introductions with Mermaids, but more importantly, Sea Monsters. If he waited behind her and held her equipment, or whatever it was she wanted of him, he would have an avenue to track down his family’s killer. 

“Hm…what about Sea Monsters? Thoughts on them?” He pulled his hand away, his face still stony. 

“Oh…” She leaned back again, an impish look coming into her eyes. “My plan is to get close. Reeeeal close. Too many of us are too afraid of them to really figure them out. I wanna figure out why they all look so different, how they classify their species, and how they deal with the moral implications of preying on a species that have the same cognitive capabilities of themselves. I mean, by human terms, it’s cannibalism. We’re different species, but we speak the same language, think the same thoughts, and from the waist up, we look startlingly similar.” Her hands began to wave frantically as she spoke, narrowly avoiding slapping Sol in the face. “The same can be said for Sirens and Humans, according to some. After all, we can communicate with them just fine, right? And we look about the same, right?” 

Sol snorted. “Oh, please. Humans are imbeciles. Sirens are the fully evolved and superior humanoid species. In fact, I think it’s stupid that it’s called humanoid in the first place. It could be Sirenoid.” 

De`Lune burst out laughing, slapping him cheerfully on the back. He grunted, shooting her a withering glare. “Oh Sol, Sol, have you ever considered that Sea Monsters might think the same as us?” 

“Well, they’d be wrong.” Still, he couldn’t help but think about it. Sea Monsters, seeing them as the inferior species? Well, physically…yes, physically speaking, Sea Monsters were far more powerful. But was that really what defined superiority? God, she was making his brain hurt. 

“Yeah yeah, whatever. Anyways, I want to know their thoughts on the subject.” She swiveled in her chair, scanning the room. Sol followed her gaze, taking in the self-imposed segregation taking place. The Sea Monsters were mostly confined to one side of the cafeteria, while Mermaids crowded on the other. However, there were a few sitting together…perhaps most noticeably, a girl with a wide set of teeth on her stomach. Ew…are those real?? She was seated next to a couple of mermaids, all three muttering in hushed tones. 

“As well as internal structures, and all that…” She shot a devilish glance at Sol, before saying something truly astounding. “I’m gonna get them to eat me.” 

Sol turned to look at her slowly, his face showing a hint of fear for this first time in a long time. “You WHAT?” His voice pitched up, cracking slightly, and she snickered at him. 

“I want to understand what happens inside. How they think. How they move. How they eat.” She took Sol’s hand, and he was too stunned to swat her away. “I want to go deep. Can you blame me for being curious?” 

“Um, yes.” He finally ripped his hand away, lips curling in disgust. “So you have a death wish? What kind of research are you gonna conduct beyond the grave, hm?” 

“Oh don’t be ridiculous, I’m not going to die. I’ve got a plan.” She flipped open her notebook, pointing to a page of masterfully drawn Sea Monster anatomy. “You might know, Sea Monsters have two stomachs. Given their vast genetic diversity, this can vary, but it’s true for the vast majority. The first stomach is a storage chamber, where prey is kept alive. I don’t know for how long, but I intend to find out.” Seeing his continued horror, she rolled her eyes. “Oh c’mon, I won’t ask you to do it too. But you’ve sat here and listened to my pitch this long, without telling me to go fuck myself.” Her voice grew more subdued. “That’s longer than most people last.” 

“Do not try to make me feel bad for you.” However, she was right. And he was usually quite generous with insults. But she had impressed him yesterday. And she was still giving him a chance to find the killer. But she’s going to get killed herself. She’ll swim right up to some sea monster, beg to get eaten, and it’ll happily oblige. And she’ll die. He groaned internally. Fine. Fine, what do I care? Let her go on her stupid mission. I’ll still get what I need. “Alright. Fine.” 

Her jaw dropped for a moment, before she let out a squeal and pumped her hands up and down with excitement. “Okay, wow, I did not expect you to actually say yes! Alright, so, the main thing is writing down observations. Like, a scribe. It interrupts the flow of my work if I’m stopping every three seconds to write something down, and if I wait till the end of the day, I won’t be able to remember everything. Here…” With an almost tentative glance, she pushed the journal across the table to Sol. “Have a look. All my compiled knowledge so far. It’s not much, yet, but it will be.” 

“Hm.” He picked it up, flipping idly through the pages. There was an entire “chapter” dedicated to Mermaid respiration systems. Wouldn’t it be the same as ours? “Ok. Fine. So…where do we start?” 

—-----------------------------------------------------------------

“I wish I could help more. I really do.” Magna’s voice was tired and strained, and Irridesse couldn’t find it in herself to be angry. “But I don’t know any of these guys. We’re from all over the place, after all. Like, I’m from the Northeast Mediterranean. I don’t recognize anyone here as Mediterranean.” 

Beside them, Lacey rubbed at their tired eyes. They had made the announcement that Atlantic was missing, and now the tension in the lunchroom was smothering. Everyone was shooting nervous glances at each other, whispering, while some cried softly in the corners. 

Irridesse had come up with the plan of her own, using Magna to sleuth out the killer. But Lacey found themselves unenthused. After all, what would it matter? The Monster who did this would just eat them too, unless Magna managed to fight them off, but even then, what would that accomplish? Atlantic would still be gone. Everyone would still be miserable and terrified. Surely, Irridesse had to realize that. Or had she gone into another one of her delusional spirals? 

A flicker of pink drew their attention, and they sat up straight as Coral Dulcette sat herself across from their little group. To their surprise, she was smiling, with an odd look of pride. What on earth was going on inside her head? 

“Hello there, students. Mind if I sit?” Magna gave her a puzzled luck, while Irridesse shrugged. “Oh, awesome. I just…” She folded her hands in front of her, no plate of breakfast in sight. “I’m so happy to see you getting along. Speaking to each other like equals. That’s exactly what I wanted to see.” 

Irridesse squinted, before realizing she was talking about her, Lacey, and Magna. She shot the Sea Monster a glare, and she just shrugged helplessly. “Miss Dulcette, I don’t like this Sea Monster. We are not friends.” Is that still true? “She’s helping me figure out what happened to Atlantic. We’re going to find who killed him, and bring them to justice.” 

“Ah, that.” Her smile dulled slightly. “Right. Personally, I think we’re jumping to conclusions here. Nobody’s confirmed that such a thing happened. It’s still completely possible that he left. I’m not sure why the headmaster and company are pushing this narrative, but there’s no evidence.” 

A part of Irridesse wanted to snap at her, insist that she was being insensitive. But she was a critical thinker by heart. It was true. The announcement had included mandatory searches of Sea Monsters, as well as an uptick of security. But there wasn’t any proof that they had done such a thing, technically. Atlantic could have easily left without a trace, hurried back home. He could have gotten lost out there, killed even, but there was no knowing if it was someone in the school. Honestly, outside might well be more dangerous than here. Home is miles and miles of empty oceans away. 

“Ok…well…I can’t do nothing. He’s an idiot, but he’s an idiot I’ve known since we were kids.” Her hands balled up in frustration, and she suddenly wanted to punch something. Beside her, Lacey shot her a dry look. “I need confirmation of where he is. A letter, a note, or…” She glanced at Magna. “Hey…have we checked his stuff?” 

“Um…” She squinted. “Nnnno. I don’t think we did. Why?”

“He wouldn’t just run home and leave all his fancy shit behind. Even if he was scared, his stuff is important to him.” She muttered curses under her breath. “Why did neither of you suggest this?” 

“We're tired.” Lacey grumbled. “And scared.” Magna glanced at them, and they had to look away. Irridesse’s unexpected friendship with this sea monster was…something. They didn’t know what to think of yet. They would need more sleep before properly thinking about anything. 

Coral cleared her throat, drawing their attention once more. “That sounds like a good avenue to me.” She gave them a sunny smile. “I’m glad you three are looking into it, together. It’s good to be proactive.” 

“Yeah.” In spite of her irate expression, Irridesse found herself feeling warm and fuzzy at the counselor's praise. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had approved of her schemes and plans, especially an adult. Hey, I’m an adult…And yet, at times like these, she felt no different from the rebellious child she was back home. “You two had better hurry up and finish eating, we’ve got stuff to do.” 

—---------------------------------------------------------------------

“Carcharias? Carcharias?”

For the second time that morning, he was awoken by a tiny shape startlingly close to his face. Blinking open his eyes, he recognized Rosia. Her hands were clasped together, her face reluctant, and her fins were all flared uncomfortably. Something’s wrong. 

“Sorry, I didn’t wanna wake you up, but they’re doing a ‘mandatory checking’ of all the Sea Monsters. Cause they think a Merman got eaten last night.” Rosia sighed deeply, drifting down to rest on his bedside table. 

For a moment, he was confused, before his sleepy brain caught up with the events of the past day. “Right. Actually…” He grunted, stretching and hearing his back pop, before tossing off the blanket. “His name’s Atlantic. I was with him last night, and then someone knocked me out. But, um, I think they might have framed me…” As he spoke, it occurred to him how ridiculous this sounded. 

Rosia blinked at him slowly, her eyebrows furrowing. She pinched the bridge of her nose with a weary sigh, before speaking. “Carcharias, if you ate him, just be honest about it.”

“No!” Carcharias’s face flushed bright red, and he looked away, wringing his hands. “No, really, I didn’t.” I think. “I found him alone, and I got stuck on something, so we ended up talking. Then someone drugged me, or something. The nurse said they found a knockout drug in my system, which I know I didn’t take. Someone must have poisoned the water in the room…”

Rosia frowned, considering it. “Why would anyone do that, though? Why would someone frame you for eating Atlantic?”

“Maybe so they could get away with it.” As the reality of the situation set in, his eyes widened. A wave of panic gripped his chest. “Someone…ate him.” He stared into silence for a moment. He couldn’t imagine it…something that could beg and plead and cry, something that would still thrash between your teeth…and eating it, like it was just another scrap of fish? How could anyone do such a thing? 

His eyes wandered back to Rosia. “Hey…have you ever eaten someone?” 

“Ha, no.” She shook her head, chuckling dryly. “Look at me. I’m too small for that. Sure, sirens manage to rip humans apart and eat them, I could probably do that. But that’s not what we do. I was born…weird. My parents were fairly small of Sea Monsters already, but I had some kind of disease that stunted me. So now I’m no bigger than a mermaid.” Carcharias felt a twinge of guilt as her eyes lowered. “I don’t think other Sea Monsters take me seriously, because of that. They think I’m just little, and cute, I guess. It’s…nice, sometimes, to be fawned over. But sometimes, I wish people could respect me too.” A moment of silence passed, before she snorted. “Look at me, being all greedy.”

“That doesn’t sound greedy at all. I’m sorry…I had no idea.” He wished he could hug her, or hold her hand, or something, just to comfort her. But what were the rules here? How careful should he be? What if his claws grazed her, what if his arms crushed her? I hate this. I hate being big and awful and I hate that I can’t touch anyone. Tears of frustration came to his eyes, and he hurriedly wiped them away. And now Atlantic’s dead, and everyone thinks it was me. 

“Well…” She looked away, though a smile showed on her face. “I mean, it’s not all bad. Getting to hang out in everyone’s guts is fun. But thanks. I appreciate it.” 

“You-” He whipped his head to the side to look at Rosia, his jaw dropping slightly. “You WHAT?!” 

She groaned and shook her head. “You really don’t know anything about your own people, don’t you?” She spotted the tears in his eyes, and her voice softened. “Hey, it’s okay. There’s still time to learn.” 

“That’s not…I mean…” He glanced away. His parents hadn’t mentioned anything like this. When the news came about this new college, unifying all the humanoid aquatic species, they were actually hesitant. But Carcharias was optimistic, ridiculously so. They told him to be wary of other Sea Monsters, to avoid getting too close. They’re not like us. They’re savages, and they’ll drag you into their depravity if you aren’t careful. But looking at Rosia, he couldn’t see her as a depraved savage. She was kind, and creative, and better with people than he would ever be. 

The storm of emotions in his mind settled, just a bit, as he released a gusty sigh. “Alright. Explain it to me.” 

Her face brightened a bit, and she clapped her hands together. “So! Sea Monsters eat each other all the time. For protection, comfort, friendship, etcetera. The bigger ones keep the smaller ones in their stomachs, or even just in their mouths. The exact traditions change a little bit depending on region, of course. Some taste each other when they meet a new person. Some use it only to express romantic feelings. Where I’m from, it’s sort of double sided. The smaller ones like it because it’s safe and comfortable, and the bigger ones like it because…it feels nice, I guess?” Rosia shrugged, puzzled. “I’m not actually sure, uh, I’ve obviously never tried it, so I wouldn’t know.” 

It was a lot to wrap his brain around. Carcharias closed his eyes for a moment, trying to process it all. Clearly, this wasn’t really eating them, right? They all survived it. And both parties enjoyed it? It sounded terrifying. Clearly, all the Mers were scared of it. And did people like him enjoy having something alive and squirming in their stomachs? The thought made him shudder, and Rosia snorted aloud at him. 

“That terrible, huh?” Rosia shrugged. “You might like it if you tried it.” 

He flinched, not wanting to think about that possibility. Technically speaking, it wasn’t wrong. If no one died, how could it be wrong? And yet…only a monster would enjoy submitting to such predatory urges. Right? But to think of himself as one of them, doing the things they did…his feelings warred, disgust clashing with a sudden pang of loneliness. 

They sound so…free. His eyes lowered to his hands, studded with claws, meant for killing. Muscled arms, meant for dominion over others. Could one be happy with such features, happy being a monster, and embracing what made them savages? For a moment, he wanted it so bad. To be freed from the constant anxiety and self-loathing, the desire to run back home and never speak to another soul again…What I wouldn’t give… 

But there was one other problem, one that weighed far more heavily on his mind. “Right, so…that’s all well and good, but what about eating Merpeople, and humans, and sirens? Unless I’ve been very much lied to, they don’t typically make it out alive, right?” 

“Ah…yeah, no, it’s…complicated.” She flopped backward onto the bed, fins splaying out behind her. “So, Sea Monsters definitely eat Mers, and humans, and Sirens, all the time. Mostly humans and Mers, since there’s just more of them around. It’s something about needing living, thinking prey. Like, prey that has a close genetic makeup, is what I’ve been told. Which is why things like fish don’t work. And we need the hormones and active cells that are found in them. So, what that ends up meaning, is that Sea Monsters need to swallow live humanoid species whole. In order to live.” 

Carcharias gave her a puzzled expression. “Really? But I’ve never done that, seriously, and I’ve lived this long…eighteen years.” 

She shrugged once again. “That’s just what the people back home told me. I don’t know how you made it this far.” She was silent for a moment, before slowly speaking again. “You know, if it would help at all, I’ll let you eat me.” She gave him a quick smile. “You seem like a nice guy, Redfin.” 

He blinked at her slowly, his brain momentarily entertaining the thought without his permission. To have Rosia in his mouth, between his teeth, against his tongue…and then swallowing her down…His stomach gurgled suddenly, interrupting his train of thought, and his face turned bright red. “Oh my god, I am so sorry-” 

“HA!” She didn’t seem the least bit upset, just swam up to pat him on the shoulder. “Just let me know, dude. But, seriously though…it can help with unwanted cravings.” She gave him a sharp look. “About Atlantic, I believe you, alright? But you might not be able to control yourself next time, unless you do something about it. Take control of your own mind, and stop running from it.” There was a beat of silence, and her tone brightened again. “But hey, c’mon, we’ve got to get over to the office for those inspections.” 

“Uh-huh…” His head was still spinning. It was hard to believe that all of this was happening in the span of less than two days. And it’s nowhere near over yet. 

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Goddamn, just how rich is this guy?” Magna’s voice rolled with disdain, even as she slid a black pearl necklace over her wrist. 

“Too rich.” Lacey mumbled, hauling a stone box out from beneath Atlantic’s bed. “Hey, this looks important.” 

Irridesse glanced down from her spot near the ceiling, where she was carefully going through his journal. To her surprise, he was quite the artist. The pages had been painted in bright colors, many presenting an oversaturated version of actual people and places. One of them even looked like her, and she had to admit, it was a nice portrait. “Coming.” Although it was pretty, there were no clues to be found here. 

She drifted down to the box, while Magna peered over the bed. Lacey scrambled at the lock for a moment, before sticking one long nail inside. With a faint creaking noise, the lock turned, and the lid sprang open. “That’s a shit lock.” Irridesse grumbled, before digging into the contents. 

They were files. All alphabetized, each one bearing what appeared to be a name and a date. Mollusca Mura, September 13th, that was just yesterday. Eidrich Bleaker, June 2nd. Paralitho Swilton, July 18th. “Alright, Mollusca is his father…” She did feel a bit bad going through his personal stuff, but desperate times required desperate measures. Also, she was curious. 

Opening the file, she found a letter. Stamped with a fancy wax seal, bearing the crest of House Mura. The writing was overly fancy, but not indecipherable. Lacey and Magna crowded closer, straining to get a look. Irridesse cleared her throat, before speaking aloud. “Eidrich tells me that our plan shall go into motion tomorrow night. Remember what we spoke about. You are not to leave school grounds until your sister arrives to pick you up. It’s not safe out there. And you are not to breathe a word of this to anyone. You must destroy this letter, as soon as you are done reading it. This madwoman must be shamed for her reckless destruction of our people’s boundaries.” Her voice faltered as she read the next, and final line. “I am proud of you. Be brave. Love, Dad.” 

A heavy silence passed between the three of them, until Manga hesitantly mumbled, “So why didn’t he destroy the letter…?” 

Irridesse winced, and beside her, Lacey sighed. “It would have been special to him. He would’ve wanted to look at it again.” Almost reverently, she smoothed the letter out against the bed frame. “Anyways. This is something. They had a plan of some kind. And it might be that Atlantic’s sister picked him up and left…but the school wouldn’t be marking him missing, they would have been informed. It’s not like Mollusca to go against rules. He wouldn’t ask his son to leave the campus without telling anyone. The plan was supposed to happen last night, and it was to stop a madwoman.” She looked at the other two, frowning. “Any ideas?” 

“Well you tell me, I had no idea what he was doing all night.” Magna huffed, while Lacey’s eyes seemed to light up. 

“Last night was when we met our counselors, right? It’s a long shot, but could he mean Coral? I mean,” A sheepish look came over their face. “she is kind of…a lot.” 

Irridesse nodded slowly. “Yeah, that sounds feasible. ‘Destruction of our boundaries’ could be something to do with the way she wants everyone to get along. But why send Atlantic here if he’s opposed to their entire purpose?” 

“Kinda sounds like he was only here as a double agent.” Lacey tilted their head, knitting their fingers together in thought. “Seems strange to only target Coral, though. It’s not like she’s the head of the whole operation, she’s just a counselor.” 

“True.” Irridesse scanned the letter again, flinching slightly as Magna suddenly lifted a tentacle to point at something. “What.” 

“Eidrich. That’s not a very common name, right? One of these files is also labeled Eidrich Bleaker.” She snatched the file, whipping it open to reveal a much more plain-looking letter. “Sounds like it’s someone who has inside details on when things are happening, ahead of time. Maybe someone in administration, another spy.” 

“Good eye.” As she took the letter from the woman’s violet tentacle, she couldn’t help but marvel at how natural this felt. The three of them, working as a team to solve a serious mystery. Making headway, finding clues, fitting together like cogs in a clock. And she’s a Sea Monster. But she’s…not that bad, actually. A ghost of a smile flickered over her face, before she cleared her throat and got to reading the letter. 

“Mr Atlantic Mura, I would like to formally thank you for your agreement to the betterment of our people through your father’s guidance. This ‘Oceans United’ endeavor is a threat to our people, all of Merkind, and must be extinguished. Your role is a vital one, in making the public understand the dangers this kind of thinking presents. By making Miss Dulcette’s idiocy clear to your fellow Merpeople, you have influenced them away from this danger they now face. Again, thank you, and godspeed.” She set the letter down with a sigh, shaking her head. “So. They had a plan to get rid of this school, by humiliating Coral. That’s such a dumb plan…”

“Maybe these are just dumb people. They sound like it.” Magna grumbled, rolling her eyes. “I liked Coral, when she talked to us in the lunchroom? She seems smart.” 

“Well, dumb or not, the plan clearly didn’t go according to plan. His sister never showed up, or if she did, she was too late. Something happened to him in-between. Either he disobeyed the plan and ran away, which doesn’t seem like him, or he got eaten by a Sea Monster.” Lacey explained, gesturing weakly with one hand. 

“Hmph.” Magna still seemed grumpy about this conclusion. “Or, hear me out, it could be another Mer or siren trying to take him out. His father’s plan is stupid, but it’s still going to make waves. Maybe someone caught wind, and wanted to stop him from going home.” A spark lit in her eyes, and she pounded her first into her other hand. “They could be interrogating him right now!” 

Lacey went silent, staring at the ground. A part of them wanted to shout at Irridesse, take her by the shoulders and shake her until she started thinking rationally again. Why wasn’t she scared of the Monster sitting next to her, the one who almost ate her alive??  Why did she think any of this was normal or fine? Maybe she’s finally lost it for good. 

And yet, Irridesse felt more clarity than ever before. She wasn’t being blocked by constant objections, or people insisting she was out of her mind. The way forward was clear, and she had two partners at her sides. “Alright. If he did get eaten, they’ll likely figure it out during this inspection, which, by the way, you should probably get to.” She prodded Magna with one hand, eliciting a tired groan. “And if he didn’t, then he’s likely being held somewhere around campus. If we want to find out where, we can start by figuring out who this Eidrich Bleaker is.” She stuffed the two files into the drawer, ignoring the third one entirely. Maybe she’d have a glance at it later. “Seriously, you need to go.” 

Magna grumbled under her breath, before straightening up and stretching her tentacles with a soft hiss. “Alright, alright. It’s just gonna be a lot of poking and prodding and invasive questions, though.” 

Irridesse shrugged, though inwardly she felt a twinge of pity. She couldn’t imagine dealing with that. Any slimy nurse’s assistant who laid a hand on her would regret it. Even without fangs, she figured she could draw decent blood. “Good luck.” Lacey hummed a quiet agreement, still refusing to properly look at the Sea Monster. What is this place doing to us…? 

—------------------------------------------------------------

“Okay, single file, everyone.” It was the same guy from before, still draped in green, adjusting his glasses as he stared at the list in his hand. He stood at the door to the infirmary, making no move to further coral the twenty-or-so Sea Monsters milling around. 

Carcharias could hear them whispering amongst themselves, snatches of conversation clearly revolving around the incident they were being searched for. As he glanced at the others, the conversation with Rosia returned to his mind. I don’t know who any of these people are. Should he? Did the rest of them know each other? 

Rosia seemed to have the same thought, as she tugged sharply on his finned ear. “We should really get to know everyone.” She hissed. “Like, there’s not that many of us. And we’re all in this together, right?” That was debatable. “I did end up holding that party last night, but um, it didn’t last long. We kind of got kicked out because Lacey wanted to go to bed.” 

He nodded slowly in agreement, watching from the corner of his eye as the first test subject reluctantly swam into the office. Was it possible that one of them really ate Atlantic? He only knew of their names, other than Rosia. Spike. The de-facto leader. He was everything a leader ought to be, by the look of him. Though for once, he wasn’t talking to anyone. The young sea monster was leaning against a wall, a bit removed from the rest of them. Dirty blonde hair fell over his eyes, in a sort of side-shaved shag. Yellow eyes peered out from the strands of hair, half-lidded and clearly tired. He was tall, not as tall as Carcharias, but still towered over most of his classmates. His skin was a warm tan, and his facial structure reminiscent of the way Mermaids carved statues of stone. 

Without realizing that he had been staring, Carcharias jumped as Spike suddenly locked eyes with him. His brows lifted slightly, before pushing himself off the wall with a faint smile. “Hey.” 

The taller man backed away, his face flushing. “Oh! Hi! Sorry.” He could feel stares on his back as a few others glanced at him curiously. Rosia darted out from the cover of his shoulder, waving cheerfully at Spike.

“Hi! Hey, you alright? You look super out of it.” Carcharias winced at her brutal honesty, while Spike just snickered. 

“Just homesick, I think. I didn’t get much sleep.” He shrugged. “It’ll wear off.” His eyes flashed with recognition, and he grinned, showing unusually long fangs. “Hey, weren’t you holding a party last night? Sorry I didn’t show up.” 

Rosia gasped, clasping her hands together. “Ah, you actually remembered me! Wow! Well yeah, it’s no big deal. It wasn’t all that anyways.” She waved one hand dismissively. “Some other time.” 

He nodded, before glancing back at Carcharias, and holding one hand out. “Hey, I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Spiracles, but everyone just calls me Spike.” 

Carcharias took his hand, noting the way his almost engulfed the smaller man’s hand. And yet, he didn’t feel delicate. He felt like he could probably kick anyone’s ass if he wanted to. “Um, I’m Carcharias.” 

“Car-char-ias.” Spike sounded it out slowly first, tilting his head at the unusually lengthy name. “That’s a cool name.” 

Cool is the last word I’d use to describe myself. Still red in the face, Carcharias gave him a sharp nod. Rosia shot him a smug look, lightly flicking him with her tail fins. “Th-thanks.” 

“Alright, next!” Glancing over his shoulder, he saw the man in green wave him over. “Come on, focus up.” 

“Right…ok, bye.” Still burning with embarrassment, he darted away. The door was almost too small, brushing his shoulders as he squeezed inside. How on earth did they get me inside when I was passed out? 

With a bit of ushering around, he was squeezed into the same curtained-off room as before. As he flicked the white fabric aside, he caught a couple of Mer assistants whispering. “That’s the one Delphina was talking about, right?”

“Yep. Says he was probably the last one to see Atlantic…he woke up asking about him.” 

“Creepy…” 

Oh right…talking to Spike had managed to distract him from the real problem here. All evidence pointed toward him having eaten Atlantic. But he didn’t, and how on earth were they going to check that? What if they crammed him in your mouth after you passed out? The thought made his face go pale. But then again, that made no sense. A sea monster wouldn’t kill him unless they wanted to eat him…and it was a Sea Monster, right? Had to be. 

The nurse brushed the curtains to the side, swimming up to him. Her face was tense, and her glasses fogged. She took them off, wiping them on her rumpled shirt with a sigh. “Okay. Nice to see you again.” 

Carcharias cleared his throat, mustering his courage to plead his case. “I-I didn’t eat him. Really. I was drugged by someone else, I don’t know who.” I was talking to him right before, but…I blacked out, and I only realized he was missing the next morning.” 

She gave him a withering look, clearly not believing a word. “Alright. Well. Luckily, we have a definitive way of proving whether you did so or not.” She opened a nearby drawer, revealing what appeared to be a massive paintbrush. With a grunt, she hefted it up, slinging it over her shoulder like a harpoon. “Open up.” 

“Open…my mouth? Really?” Wasn’t that supposed to be a terrible idea? He shifted nervously, scales scraping on rugged walls. 

“Me and Abalone are trained for this sort of thing, don’t you worry.” A trace of a smile appeared over her face. “And I’m assistant nurse Delphina. This thing is heavy and we’ve got a lot of Sea Monsters to check, so get on with it.” 

He nodded sheepishly, before slowly craning his jaws open. Delphina didn’t seem to care, only keeping her distance from his teeth as she carefully swabbed the inside of his mouth with the brush. He was surprised to find that it was fine. He wasn’t tempted to bite her, like he had been so worried about. Hm. His shoulders relaxed a bit, and he hadn’t even realized how tense he was. 

“So, that’ll just get back to the lab to see if there’s any DNA inside your mouth. Other than your own, of course.” Carcharias nodded again, still silent. “Next up-” She opened another cabinet, pulling out one of several orange buckets. He tilted his head to see, as she peeled the lid off, revealing a heap of something glowing. After pulling on a fresh pair of gloves, she plunged one hand in and fished around. “This should do.” 

The thing she pulled out appeared to be a rotund fish. It was glowing bright greenish-yellow, and had oddly thick-looking scales. It smelled strange too, like nothing natural. What’s she going to do with that? He watched apprehensively as Delphina gave the fish a little shake, brightening the glow of its scales even more. 

“So…all I need you to do is swallow this. It’s a light probe. Like a whale’s echolocation, it uses sound waves to search for abnormal shapes in the stomach. The light allows us to see it through your skin.” It was just a fish, yet Carcharias still found himself recoiling with a grimace. It was still alive…even if survived the experience, he felt like he’d be sick regardless. 

Delphina stared him down, holding the fish out. It looked quite calm, unaware of it’s impending journey. Or perhaps, it just didn’t care. “Take it. You can do this part yourself, right? Just swallow it.” 

Okay, it’s going to prove you innocent. Just suck it up- Still visibly disgusted, he reached to pinch the probe between two talons…before the white curtain of the examination room was suddenly flung open. Carcharias yelped in surprise, smacking his head on the ceiling with a thump. It was an older man, with a heavy mustache, and a crisp waistcoat. It was the headmaster, the man who had addressed them all yesterday. He looked rather untidy, with his hat eskew, and his silvery eyes wide. “Stop! You can stop right now, Nurse!” 

Delphina backed away, snatching the fish back into her arms. Placing one hand on her hip, she spun to face him. “Mister Bleaker. Why are you interrupting the searches?” Peering past the two merpeople, Carcharias could see other sea monsters filing out of the room, clearly confused. Including Spike. 

“No need for searches! Someone fessed up already.” Bleaker adjusted his hat, leaning against a nearby countertop, as the urgency drained from his body. “Some lad…I feel bad for it, honestly. Poor beast doesn’t know how to control-” He felt silent as he finally noticed Carcharias, and his face turned pale. “Well, what I mean to say is, it’s a shame. A r-real shame.” The nurse’s assistant looked skeptical, but obediently shut the lid on her bucket of glowfish. “Don’t bother with the searches…the case is closed! Uh, my condolences to Atlantic’s family…yes, they’ll be devastated…” 

The headmaster turned and darted away, while Carcharias felt his heart sink. He was innocent indeed…and he didn’t even have to prove it. But Atlantic was dead. How could they do such a thing?! He had barely known the man, yet sudden grief filled his chest. Sinking to the floor, he placed his hands over his eyes. Delphina was silent, only sighing, before she turned and left him alone. 

It didn’t make sense…the pieces of the story were disjointed. Questions still left unanswered. But it would have to wait. For now, all the Sea Monster could do was cry quietly into the currents that whispered by. 

[monstrousfemin1ne]

@spilledw1ne, anders.

Anders is different than the teenager she remembers. A given, she realizes, with all the time that’s passed, but no less true. He was like her while they were stuck in Kinloch Hold, rebellious and awful but with a humor all his own. Lashing out at the world that hated them for what they hadn’t asked for. They’d wanted to save themselves and enjoy what was shielded from them.

He’s quiet, solemn, the weight of the world pressing down on his shoulders. She looks about his clinic like a redheaded interloper, at all the healed faces he’s taken care of. Mothers scooping children into their arms, lovers sharing overjoyed embraces, struggling people who will keep Anders’ secret. She feels small. Where he took to healing, she took to the seas, plundering and fighting for her own benefit (and that of her long-gone crew.)

She stayed behind after the rest of the impromptu party left, drawn by the unexpected reunion. They’re all to meet again at the Gallows tomorrow evening, with the caveat that she’ll seek Isabela out sooner. Ser Pounce winds around her feet as she sits at a table, out of the way, undoubtedly happy to be reunited with his master. Whereas she’d always longed for a ship cat, there is no ship anymore, and she remembers the drawings she’d sneak glimpses of during study, Ser Pounce scrawled over the fluffy orange beast in tidy scrawl. It makes sense.

“You should see how they look at you,” the words leave her lips before she can help herself. She’s been unable to keep her eyes off Anders. She regrets not telling her friends of her escape all those years ago, and she certainly regrets not telling him. “You’re the light in the darkness.”

[almaqead]

"The Gaze." From Surah 24, An Nur, "The Formidable Light."

The discovery of profound interference in the Haram by members of a cult located in the United States, spearheaded by Donald Trump is too troubling to ignore. All spirited persons around the world must do what peacefully can be done to reform the US Government, to force it to come to terms with its Crimes Against Humanity and put Donald Trump in jail at once. I know about that which I speak. Men and women in America and its government are willing to sell our lives and the lives of our loved ones for too cheap a price:

Donald Trump cannot be permitted to reenter the White House, nor can his name appear on the ballot. The dishonor this has done to the name of America and blasphemy against God requires a response. And not just just by the Ayatollah Khamenei who is determined to push the world around at great expense to his people and territory.

Obey the Fatwa al Pitva, the words we have read within this Holy Quran, and gather in large numbers in order force Joe Biden to obey the law and put Donald Trump in prison. Our futures and our freedoms to practices of the humanities depend on this demonstration of law enforcement. The world has tasted death too many times to permit additional carelessness to continue.

About this need to follow the letters of the law and the Fatwas in the Quran after we've learned too many hard lessons, the Surah says the world belongs to men who are pure, not men like Donald Trump and the Ayatollah. But they are the ones in possession of all of it and we must return them to us:

24: 30-31:

˹O Prophet!˺ Tell the believing men to lower their gaze and guard their chastity. That is purer for them. Surely Allah is All-Aware of what they do.

And tell the believing women to lower their gaze and guard their chastity, and not to reveal their adornments1 except what normally appears.

2 Let them draw their veils over their chests, and not reveal their ˹hidden˺ adornments

3 except to their husbands, their fathers, their fathers-in-law, their sons, their stepsons, their brothers, their brothers’ sons or sisters’ sons, their fellow women, those ˹bondwomen˺ in their possession, male attendants with no desire, or children who are still unaware of women’s nakedness. Let them not stomp their feet, drawing attention to their hidden adornments. Turn to Allah in repentance all together, O  believers, so that you may be successful.

Commentary:

There is one Master of the Universe and His name is God. Since He is invisible and speaks to us only through scripture, we must obey second our husbands, wives, and the needs of our children. The Fatwa says we must not stand for interference or threats to the relationships we have with our masters by interlopers. Tell Joe Biden and the entire world: we will not allow tyrants and despots, persons who rape and carve up the human body for leisure to stay in power or to survive.

The Great God Allah, the Greatest God said to Muhammad His Prophet:

"Corruption has spread on land and sea as a result of what people’s hands have done, so that Allah may cause them to taste ˹the consequences of˺ some of their deeds and perhaps they might return ˹to the Right Path˺.

And We warned the Children of Israel in the Scripture, “You will certainly cause corruption in the land twice, and you will become extremely arrogant.

When the first of the two warnings would come to pass, We would send against you some of Our servants of great might, who would ravage your homes. This would be a warning fulfilled.

Then ˹after your repentance˺ We would give you the upper hand over them and aid you with wealth and offspring, causing you to outnumber them."

The pain has to stop. From the pitcher to the cup, the pain and its causes has to be stopped.

[truckreincarnation]

My Compass was Swallowed by the Sea | Germain | 4.1 | RE: Esmée

There were a lot of things Germain was doing their best to avoid acknowledging. The unwanted interloper. The empty seat across the circle from them. 

The empty seat directly to their right. They’d found themself, in the past, glancing that way whenever things got especially intense. Looking to see how Luz was handling it - a mixture of concern and hope that seeing someone taking things more calmly might offer some passive reassurance. 

They’d have to be careful not to glance that way right now. Without many options, they let their head hang low, concealing their eyes from the world as they rubbed the back of their neck. 

“... Yeah. What Esmée s-said. I’m… upset, s-still. And d-don’t trust myself to b-be able to stay c-calm right now. So if my a-agitation, or my a-anger shines through, I’m s-” They cut themself off. Esmée had just pointed out she wasn’t going to apologize for it, so why should they? No one else ever had? They didn’t want to lash out, but… they were increasingly realizing they didn’t care if they did anymore, after what had happened. “S-Sorry, I was g-gonna apologize, but… F-Frank was always n-needling me to let some of that sh-show a bit more, so I’m gonna t-take his advice on that one.” 

Best to start where they always did. Recounting the events of the evening. 

“I was in the b-ballroom in the early evening. S-Started up in the balcony, then moved down to have s-some tea. Avery walked in just about as I was f-finishing up and leaving. I p-passed by Theophania on the way out t-too - she was going to the b-ballroom too.” 

“I went to the library, where I g-got some b-books, and went b-back to the m-manor. I g-got to the lounge at 7:50ish. That was where I s-spent most of the n-night reading, so I’ll j-just recount what I s-saw. Frank sh-showed up not long after I a-arrived, and s-sat there with me while I was r-reading. At around 8:30, Sh-Shinjuku came in with B-Bian’s body, and Avery p-passed by around that t-time too, g-going to the stairs.” Realizing that wording sounds concerning, Germain bit their lip nervously, before clarifying. “I f-figured she was in a d-doll at the t-time.”

“Sh-Shin went upstairs around 8:45. Avery p-passed by leaving again at 9. Then F-Frank went upstairs to s-sleep at around 9:30, but he came back about t-twenty minutes later to let me know B-Bian was in Panther’s r-room, and then left to h-head for the tree.” 

“About t-ten minutes later, I heard the e-explosion, and b-before I could go i-investigate, Shinjuku c-came down. We went to g-grab B-Bian’s doll, and then followed the s-sound towards the explosion.” Germain couldn’t keep their voice level as they explained, unable to stop themself from getting choked up. What if they’d run faster? Got there earlier? Frank and Luz were still alive for awhile.

Was there more they could’ve done?

“You all know what we found when we got there.” Their voice turned cold.

[supernova3space]

Jo, thank you so much for the tag!

A small snippet from Triple Dead Combo here. It's from later on in the story, a couple of chapters ahead from where we are now but it won't reveal too much lol

____

Ajax had been dragging him along when he stopped dead in his tracks. 

Confused, he looked at what had stopped his friend.

Ah. 

A middle aged woman, arms crossed in front of her, surveyed the crowd around her. She was smartly dressed, her eyes sharp through the lenses of her spectacles. Her hair was thick, slowly greying. She was waiting at the bus stand. 

Tecmessa. 

He glanced at Ajax, checking if his friend was alright. 

Of course, he was hopelessly staring at her as though struck by Cupid's arrows. He was impossible. 

He tugged on his arm. “Ajax.”

His friend didn't look away from her. He could practically see the hearts in his eyes. “Uh huh?”

“You ok?”

“Uh huh.”

“We gonna go to that bus stand?”

“Uh huh.”

He waited for ten more seconds. Ajax still wasn't moving. He sighed, “Come on, big boy.” This time, it was him dragging Ajax. 

They stood a fair distance away from her, Ajax's gaze still firmly fixed upon her, a lovelorn look in his eyes. This man. Patroclus shook his head. 

“So which was the bus?” He tried to shake Ajax back to reality. 

Ajax physically gave his head a small shake back to Earth and looked around. “There!” He whisper-hissed at Patroclus, pointing towards a massive metal beast rolling towards them. 

The bus stopped and they watched the stream of people being born from the vehicle, dazed by the sunlight, waiting for a familiar face. 

It soon arrived. Eurysaces slowly stepped out of the bus, one bag on his shoulder, the other one in his hand. He scanned through the sea of people until he found Tecmessa waving her hand and grinned. 

He smiled the same as his father. 

Patroclus felt like an interloper, watching this family moment. Grossly intruding. But Ajax held on tight to his hand, refusing to let go. 

“Look at him.” Ajax said, the pride in his voice evident. “Back from uni. College boy.” He gave a little chuckle, “Why hasn't he cut his hair? Look at it! It's falling into his eyes.” Shaking his head.

They watched as Tecmessa approached Eurysaces. The son dropped his bag on the ground and hugged his mother tight. Then the mother pulled away and began fussing over her son. 

Ajax's hand still held Patroclus's in a vice-like grip. It was shaking now.

“If you want to go to them—” Patroclus started.

“No.” Ajax interrupted. “No. It's fine.” He smiled at Patroclus. “It's fine.” 

They watched as Eurysaces picked up his bags again and the mother and son walked to their car. They were going home. 

Eurysaces had Ajax's nose. His round cheeks. His height and broad shoulders. He had his mother's hair though and her eyes. They crinkled with joy at something Tecmessa said. 

Ajax's tight hold on his hand released once the car left. His hand wasn't shaking anymore. 

He watched his friend's expressions. Ajax always held a smile ready, his eyes constantly alight. But there was sadness. An inescapable sadness that held onto you like a magnet. That stayed like secrets in his head. He never showed it though. And he wasn't showing it now.

“You know, you remind me of him.” Ajax spoke. 

“Hm?”

“I said,” he bopped Patroclus on his head, fondly, “You remind me of him.” 

Patroclus didn't quite feel that empty now. He chuckled, “Sure. Dad.” 

____

Hehehe

Alright, no pressure. Tagging @pijulle @cowsonabus @bakerstreetbaggins @amelioratea @siredcrab @laur-the-cat-prince @kaerwrites . Only if you want to.

WIP Wednesday

I have been working on As Fate Would Have It, so here's a sneak peek from the next chapter!! We have some Thetis POV, and sort of an intro into the next arc of the story 👁👁

The nymphs’ tittering laughter echoes lightly across the beach like windchimes. Few of the oceanids are strangers to the Trojan shores—the Dardanelle straits are rich with fish, and the Trojans generous with their sacrifices—and many of them have seen Priam's sons and daughters first-hand. They know of Hector's piousness and his famed skill with spear and sword, and of his brother Paris' love of wine and women.

“Helen, Zeus' daughter, is known the world over for her beauty and her glib tongue,” Cymothoe says, her usually placid blue eyes dark like stormy seas now, “but young Paris must have grown to be handsomer and glibber still to have been able to convince her to leave behind her husband's bed and her daughter. I hear she's but a baby in the cradle.”

“Ah, but he wasn’t acting alone, my lady," Hermes says with a knowing smile. "It was—"

"Aphrodite," Thetis finishes quietly for him. "Aphrodite acted for him."

The nereid's laughter and excited chatter dies down as they all turn to stare at her. Thetis has been silent all along, frozen and numb as she listened to Hermes’ tidings, but now the words rise like waves to her lips. 

“Lady Hera, queen of the gods, and the wise Athena offered that boy power, wisdom and riches beyond counting," she continues, "but it had been Lady Aphrodite of the white sea foam that promised him Helen’s hand. Is that not so, Lord Hermes?”

The god’s winged foot, which had been tapping impatiently on the sand all the while they have been talking, now stops its ceaseless motion. His flashing coal-black eyes focus on her in a hawk-like stare. “Quite right, my lady, quite right!” he exclaims. “I shouldn’t be surprised that you know this; after all, it was at your very own wedding that the seeds of strife were first planted among the goddesses.” 

The reminder brings bitter memories to her. Thetis had been but a young goddess then, but already Zeus and Poseidon had been clamouring for years for her hand. When goddess Themis of the white hands had delivered to her the prophecy—that she would bring forth a son, of strength mightier than his father—all attempts at courting her or claiming her by force had swiftly been abandoned. No god, no man wanted a child whose fame would come to eclipse their own. 

All but one.

How small and unassuming he had seemed to her when he had arrived to the shore she dwelt, with carriages filled to the brim with precious gifts, all the wealth he had gathered after sacking the city of Iolcus. A king of men in his own right, but of modest fame, from a small kingdom. But he was favoured by Zeus, and that alone had been enough for Peleus Aeacides to summon the courage to ask for her hand. 

Thrice she had refused him, and thrice he had returned, each time bearing gifts more rare and priceless than the last. And when Zeus, the king of the gods, had made it clear that she had no other choice but to submit to the man's advances, only then had Thetis finally accepted.

The wedding had been an extravagant affair, with every god, nymph and lesser spirit bringing gifts and paying their respects, wishing them every happiness—everyone, except for Eris, goddess of strife, who never received her invitation. She had been the one to plant discord among the three goddesses, and disagreements such as these never reach a happy ending. Not for anyone.

“Menelaus," Hermes continues, "much distressed by his queen's abduction, has already sought counsel with his brother Agamemnon. Night and day they have been talking, rumour has it, and not a few of those nights have been spent with the king of Sparta crying on his poor brother's shoulder," he adds with a mocking little laugh. "But not all of this time has been spent lamenting. Atreides are a proud and stubborn folk. It is said they are preparing—” 

“War,” Thetis whispers. “A war unlike anything mortals or gods have witnessed before.”

Silence falls among the sisters. They all look at each other uneasily, the full magnitude of the situation now dawning on them. After all, they all have sons and daughters, either in Greece or Troy, that might get caught in the crossfire. The waves fall quiet, not even the sea birds along the rocks making a sound.

Hermes clears his throat. 

“Yes. Well. You are not wrong about that,” the god says, evidently miffed that Thetis stole from him the pleasure of breaking the big news to them for the second time.

Tagging forth to (no pressure): @baejax-the-great @rowanisawriter @darlingpoppet @hekateinhell @babyrdie @glossc1 @supernova3space @tragediegh @iiktend to share some art or writing you're working on, as well as anyone else who'd like to grab a tag and do this!

[palaceunderthealps]

Kinsale, Co. Cork

Kinsale is a charming, attractive, slightly raffish waterfront town of mostly Georgian houses lining narrow hilly streets. An important naval centre in the eighteenth century (the hapless Andrew Selkirk sailed off from here to an unwelcome shipwreck, providing the inspiration for Robinson Crusoe), it is now a fishing port and yachting haven. This is one of those curious places that act as a magnet for upscale dropouts – refugees from city life you came for a visit and end up staying for years – which, with the yachting fraternity, gives it an air of nonchalant worldliness out of all proportion to its size. An agreeable side effect is that many of the interlopers open restaurants. There are 18 in Kinsale for a resident population of less than 1,800. Most are very good and a few – Man Friday, The Bistro, Gino's, and the Circle – outstanding. In line with the general tone of relaxed amiability, the restaurateurs work out a rota of opening hours among themselves so that competition doesn't become too fierce. 

Kinsale also has two friendly and atmospheric pubs – the Bullman on the quayside, filled with fishermen and yachting people in bulky sweaters, and, high on a hill overlooking the town, the Spaniard, with chairs outside so you can watch the sun setting over the Bandon River estuary and see beyond – a perfect place to pass a summer’s evening. There are good walks near the town, in particular to Summer Cove and Charles Fort (a large and impressive star-shaped battlement dating from the late seventeenth century and still in use as recently as 1922). But if the weather is fine, consider a more ambitious trek to the promontory known as the Head of Kinsale, with magnificent cliffs and views across the sea. Somewhere out there, about ten miles offshore, lies the wreck of the Lusitania, which went down with 1,500 people after being torpedoed by a German submarine just off the headland in 1915. A bit farther on are the very pretty resorts of Garrettstown and Courtmacsherry, both offering good beaches and splendid settings. Finally, if you're still somehow at a loose end, there's some of the best sea fishing in Ireland, boat trips up the Bandon River to Innishannon, and a surprisingly good little municipal museum in the town’s Courthouse with model ships and relics celebrating Kinsale days of greatness as a seafaring community.

Like Glengarriff a bit farther along the coast (see next entry), Kinsale is an appealing place to wind down for a couple of days. But be careful – you could end up staying for years.

Details: Kinsale is 18 miles south of Cork that can be reached by frequent buses from there.

William Bryson, The Palace Under the Alps, p146-147 

https://www.manfridaykinsale.ie

https://www.kinsale.ie

[volpestarks]

OUR FLAG MEANS DEATH » [listen on Spotify]  "We’re all born in the womb of death, hanging on to our final breath. You can ride that road to heaven. And It’ll hurt like hell."

1. colder heavens - blanco white | 2. already dead - otzeki | 3. the chain - kerala dust | 4. interloper - nakhane | 5. the place I left behind - the deep dark woods | 6. at sea - lord huron | 7. tripwire - boo seeka | 8. high on a roky ledge - moondog | 9. blood run red - the ballroom thieves | 10. fight club - lorne balfe | 11. so handsome hello - woodkid | 12. stay in love - holtoug | 13. new world- the irrepressibles | 14. hard times - patrick wolf | 15. smoke machine - GENTS | 16. the one I want  - the pierces | 17. devil i know - suki waterhouse | 18. shiny things - kat frankie 

& MORE!

[catilinas]

i cant tell if youre talking about archie or will but either of them are cas comparable. maybe moreso archie. but. god. youre really um onto something here. unfortunately i dont know enough about forester estate interference but i do know a lot about the plot of the hornblower tv movie series AND supernatural and. you're onto something. i think cas could do archie in the duchess and the devil i think archie could do the gay angel brainwashing arc

wrote a whole thing and tumblr deleted it yeehaw but yea did you know. archie “eminently sacrificeable” kennedy was only supposed to be in episode 1! and was supposed to stay presumed dead at sea forever! until it turned out audiences Liked Him Too Much and they were like yeah ok why not. recurring character time. EXcept his friendship 👁 w horatio meant hornblower was no longer the repressed/depressed bastard of book canon, to the extent that the forester estate were like. i want that narrative interloper obliterated. apparently the tv writers had to argue to let him even die on screen :-) i have genuinely no clue what happens in spn (i have seen only the episodes that a random number generator chose for me) but via tumblr osmosis. yeah. ritual substitutes is the same. and i to have known you smiley face. dies. this death will then never be mentioned BUT the absence it creates will haunt the final two episodes. your last sentence is entirely correct also

[proxylynn]

Your Boyfriend: Stalk-home Syndrome (Day 1)

Chapter #1: YOUR BOYFRIEND

[WARNING: Because the internet needs more romantic visual novels where you try to win the hearts of your senpai, right? WRONG! Your Boyfriend is a visual novel, yes. But this is anything but a love story. Your Boyfriend is a game where you deal with a man's unhealthy desire to have you, no matter who gets hurt. And he's not afraid to leave the body lying around for you to find either. Imagine a cat bringing you dead mice or birds to your doorstep, except he had brought the corpse of the person you talked to the other day. It's a choose your own adventure story, so be careful with how you react to those around you, especially towards him. This game deals with themes that might be disturbing for some audiences, such as murder, gore, drug use, kidnapping, non-consensual intimacy, strong language, and nudity.]

So what better thing to do than write fanfiction about it?! Enjoy my descent into madness. I regret nothing!! Sincerely with crazy sleepless love, your friendly neighborhood author, Lynn~♥

---------------------------------------------------------------------

[Welcome, Lynsie. You two have fun...]

My life has been chaotic. My family broke out into another fit of drama, so I left the nest, ran straight to college, and got an apartment and a job. But lately, my job at a greasy spoon diner has been unbearable. The job doesn't pay the best, so that meant I had to find a roommate to afford an apartment. And now my roommate is always bringing some drop out into our apartment for late-night "study sessions". My sleep schedule is wrecked, and, even better, the rent on the apartment is late. I heard once that if you become a roommate with a friend, you won't stay friends for long. In my case, the friendship gets strained thinner as my "friend" keeps making excuses why they need me to cover their half of the rent. Thanks to that deadbeat, I'm working harder just to lose money on the rent. I'm nearly broke and getting a second job feels like it will kill me. At least in this park, I have some alone time.

I've always loved this part of the park; it's untouched by obnoxious family members and college jerks. Nice strong trees, thick but well-kept bushes, large boulder-type rocks dot along a narrow brook, and one random trash bin by the jogging path that never seems to collect trash but nuts from crazy squirrels. The only people who come here are the groundskeepers. Even then, they only come by in the morning. My preferred spot is the small bench by the water. The sound of its babbling always helps to soothe my nerves. Closing my eyes I rub my face and huff out the tension in my lungs so that I could calm down enough to enjoy the peace and quiet. Just then I feel someone sit down beside me.

Startled, my eyes open wide as I turn and look towards the interloper.

"Whoa! Hey, take it easy, it's just me."

The stranger says, trying to keep me from leaping too high off the park bench.

"You're a jumpy one, aren't ya?"

Can you blame me? I wasn't expecting someone to sit with me at my alone spot.

I guess he doesn't at least look like a creep. The dude has gray skin with simple features, deep ark circles border his eyes, and a round head without hair that was probably shaven off. He wears black pants and shoes, a deep-sea blue T-shirt with a heart that is half black and white, a black hoodie vest. My staring to size him up gives him a different signal. He smiles and scoots himself closer to me, shyly and awkwardly. I'm not used to situations like this. Most people either ignore me or are completely unaware I exist, so someone choosing to acknowledge me and get closer is new. Stuck to my seat, I keep my eyes on him, unsure what his intentions are. His unblinking eyes don't stray from mine. Not once.

"Sooo...Are you waiting for a family member or a friend? It just seems kind of odd for you to be sitting here, all alone like this, and so far away from the jogging track."

Okay, maybe he is a creep. No one just says that to a girl or anyone for that matter. Major red flags!! How often does a sane person just walk up to a random stranger out of the blue and opens things up by asking such questions? A chill runs down my spine and I can feel goosebumps form. I slide myself away from him and closer to the edge of the bench, crossing my arms over my chest. He picks up on my unease and refrains from sliding any closer. He crosses his fingers in between his legs and smiles warmly.

"I mean, you don't look like a groundskeeper or one of the old people feeding pigeons after doing Tai Chi."

That sounded a bit more normal but still, I'm not about to drop my guard.

"*sigh* I come here to get away from it all. A nice spot to relax and unwind. A safe place to de-stress from all of life's crud, you know?"

He nods, scooting himself closer, his hand nearly touching my thigh as he smiles shyly. I'm not one for confrontation, but if he lays a finger on me I'm gonna hit him.

"L-Look. I know this is s-sudden. Very sudden. But if you're free tonight, can I have the pleasure in taking you out to dinner?"

'Can I have the pleasure?' Why does that make my heart flutter? Alright, I get it now, he's not a creep. He's a nervous awkward guy asking a super hard question. A question I've never got before. I'm suspicious.

"You're asking me out? Can I ask...Why?"

"Well, I'm your boyfriend."

He states that as if it's a clear fact of life.

"Isn't that why you're here?"

His confusion is only matched by my own. 'Isn't that why you're here?' It replays in my head a couple of times before the confusion becomes a restrained annoyance.

"Ah, I see. Well, let me make this clear before more time is wasted..."

I pull the hood of my jacket off and let my long brown hair flow free.

"I don't know who put you up to this, and frankly, I don't care. But it's a mega douche move to play games like this."

He titles his head.

"...What?"

"Don't what me. I ain't falling for this. This will either end with me being humiliated and a video of the event posted for all to see, or I end up dead somewhere with lord knows what done to my body. So let's cut the crap and walk away with what little dignity is left."

I'm glaring at the ground at this point, my hands gripping my knees hard enough for my knuckles to whiten in tension. There is an awkward silence as the stranger stares at me.

"Who hurt you?"

The worried tone in his voice makes me look at him just as he moves in and embraces me tightly. This...This doesn't feel forced. It doesn't feel like an act. There's real feeling in his hold. I feel like such a tool. I give his back a few assuring pats.

"Sorry. I made things super weird. Life hasn't been the nicest to me, so I tend to see things through grime-smeared glasses. Makes me not the most trusting of people."

He pulls back but remains close.

"But what made you think this was a setup?"

I sheepishly look at the water.

"The way you said things. I'm your boyfriend. Isn't that why you're here? ...It came off to me as you were playing a role and I was some target."

He frowns, just sitting there with a firm stare. He's not an easy guy to read.

"Oh...I see. I think I'm getting mixed messages from you."

I look at him funny.

"I mean, it doesn't make much sense for you to come here, and then not want me."

...What the fuck is happening right now?

"Dude, could you be a bit more clear? Because I am so lost right now."

This situation is so wild and confusing that it's starting to hurt my brain. He seems to pick this up, looking away with an awkward chuckle.

"Hey, I-I get it if you don't want me to be your boyfriend, I just thought I'd take the chance to ask you out."

So...He's not a creep but a terribly awkward mess of a shy guy with awful pickup skills? Makes way more sense now. Knowing I'm not exactly a catch or confident in myself to bother with asking out others, I throw him a bone.

"Don't take it the wrong way. I'm flattered, really I am. I'm just paranoid and lack self-esteem, so the thought that anyone would actually ask me out fills me with doubt."

"But why though?"

"Huh?"

"Why would you lack self-esteem? You're amazing."

I wasn't expecting that. A genuine compliment. I'm made speechless and blushing.

"But...Don't worry, I get it. I suppose I'd be a little weirded out too if some random stranger came up and asked me out on a date. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

And now I feel bad.

"H-Hey...How about we try this again?"

I swallow a nervous lump in my throat and offer him my hand.

"Hi, my name is Lynsie. Most call me Lynn. I'm Ace and it's nice to meet you, would-be suitor. And you are?"

"My name?"

His expression turns to a grimace as his gaze drifts off to the side.

"I really don’t like my name. My name is a joke...Honestly, I’d rather be called something else, like a nickname, or something. You could call me whatever. Hell, you can call me 'cockbite' for all I care."

"Well, I don't know you enough to give you one. If you're willing, you can tell me your real name and I'll nickname you off of that, sound fair?"

He grumbles a bit.

"Please? If you really want this 'boyfriend' thing to happen, you gotta be willing to trust me. Just like I gotta try to trust you."

His eyes widen.

"Wait...You'd give me a chance? Even after that disaster of a start?"

I shrug.

"That depends...Do you trust me with your name?"

It looks as though he's biting his tongue in thought. Yet after a bit, he hesitantly takes my hand and motions me to lean in. Doing so, he meets me halfway and whispers in my ear.

"Peter."

Really? Here I was thinking it was something odd or maybe he was trying to dissociate from family. But that? The most I can think of is a dick joke, but that's more of a Richard-type thing.

"That's not such a bad name. But you have your reasons and I shall respect them, Pete."

It's a simple nickname that shortens his by a single letter. Yet that small edit is enough to make him smile and gently squeezes my hand a little.

"Yeah, that's much better, honestly. Thank you."

The expression of disgust instantly evaporates into delight and I rub the back of my head feeling my shyness kick in as we keep eye contact. Wow, I didn't realize, but he has some really nice blue eyes. The vivid color pulls me in, I'm lost in taking in their deep blue hue until he speaks with slight amusement.

"...Are we having a moment or what?"

All I can muster is a dumb embarrassed laugh.

"Heh...I guess my awkwardness is showing. Sorry."

He chuckles and shakes his head.

"Hey, hey, there's nothing to be sorry for!"

He reassures me with a soft smile. Any creepy vibe I might have had from him is gone at this point. Heck, I don't even mind that we're still holding hands. The contact feels rather pleasant.

"So..."

I do hate to spoil things. But I'm unsure what happens next and I want to be clear.

"You know what Ace meant, right? I'm Asexual."

"That's fine. I'm Pansexual myself. So it's not a deal breaker on my end."

It takes a second for the joke to kick into my mind and I have to bite my tongue hard to not laugh...Peter Pan...Hahahaha!

"You okay?"

Crap! Uh...Quick! Babble like an idiot!

"Oh...um...Well...What now? I'm...I'm not used to this whole 'date' thing."

He shuts his eyes in thought.

"I was thinking we could meet up later and grab a bite to eat. That's if you're not busy?"

I shake my head.

"My day is pretty void of anything. You?"

"My schedule's open for anything."

A thought comes to me and I sheepishly look at the ground.

"If that's the case...Do you wanna just...Keep hanging out like this? Maybe walk around and get to know each other more?"

I can feel the heat radiating from my cheeks, and I imagine them glowing bright red like a Christmas light. The thought makes my cheeks warmer, and probably even redder. This gets him to laugh.

"Heh...You're cute when you get flustered."

I finally break our handhold in an attempt to pull my hood back over and hide but he snickers while playfully keeping it down. He's stronger than he looks. This small bit of adorable horseplay somehow ends with us walking out of the park with our arms linked and my hoodie tied around my waist. Not sure how since things happened so fast but whatever. Not like it matters on my end though there was a reason I wear my hoodie even on a sunny day. My white skin is only slightly paler than the white shirt, my dark gray hoodie with a thick horizontal white stripe at the middle along with white drawstrings is tied by the sleeves around me and covers my behind, and my black pants nearly blend into my black shoes. Feature-wise, I don't think I'm anything special to look at. Hazel green eyes marred by years of random insomnia riddled nights, two surgical stainless steel captive earrings in each lobe, brown hair that reaches far enough for me to sit on so I have it in a ponytail, and an hourglass figure that's a little on the plump side. Like I said, nothing special to look at or swoon over. Yet if you asked Peter he'd probably say otherwise judging by how pleased he looks.

"Let's see...Small talk isn't my forte, but we can always do the standard date questions."

"What? Like the ones in every cliché romance thing?"

"It would be a way we'd get to know each other better."

"...Fine. You start."

"Ah ah. Ladies first."

I roll my eyes.

"Okay...Got any pets?"

"One. A hog-nosed snake I call Rat."

"Heh...All you need now is a rat snake and name it Hog."

"Snakes don't bother you?"

"Nah. I like snakes. My personal fave is the albino Burmese python. The way the red eyes shine like rubies against the white and yellow scales...*chef kiss* Beautiful."

He snickers.

"Got any hobbies?"

"A few."

"...And they are?"

"Promise not to laugh?"

He crosses an X over his chest.

"Okay...I like to draw sometimes. I play video games for fun and YouTube, though my channel isn't big, only recently hit 530 subs. Lay in bed and zone out to music, sing sometimes too. And I...I write fanfiction stories."

He's biting his lip to hold in giggles and I whack his shoulder.

"You said you wouldn't laugh!"

"Heh...Technically, I didn't."

"Fine. But for the record, your laughter was implied."

"Would you feel better if you knew mine?"

"...Maybe."

"Well, I enjoy romantic animes, writing poems, trying secret menus I read about online, and watching this cute little kitten I know sleep."

Must resist loudly going 'awwwwww'.

"That's adorable. Have you gotten the kitty to snuggle on your lap?"

"Once or twice."

"Jealous."

He blushes a bit.

"You mentioned anime. Got a favorite?"

"Promise not to bust my balls for it?"

Oh, this is gonna be good.

"I swear."

He nervously scratches his cheek.

"Ouran High School Host Club."

I just stare at him.

"My dude..."

"You said..."

"I have the complete manga collection."

This has his attention.

"...Favorite host?"

"Kyoya Ootori, followed by the Hitachiin twins. You?"

"Tamaki Suoh. I'm a sucker for the hopeless romantics."

"Are we having a nerd moment?"

"I think so."

"Awesome."

"Maybe I could read those mangas with you. If that's cool?"

"Heh...I think that's the tamest way a guy has asked to be in a girl's room."

"I didn't hear a no."

"...Let me think about it. It's not very lady-like for a woman to let a gentleman in her chambers upon first meeting."

"Classy. I respect that."

"Thank you."

"You mentioned you play video games. Do you play Pokémon and what's your preferred team?"

"A good question. While I like Digimon more, I do play Pokémon. If you mean evil team, Team Skull baby! Your boy Guzma is best boy! But if Pokémon, I love the dragon types. Garchomp, Kommo-o, Hydreigon, Noivern, Rayquaza, and Giratina. You?"

"I don't have an evil team favorite, though who doesn’t like Team Rocket? But I do have a main team. Aegislash, Chandelure, Bisharp, Cacturne, Seviper, and Midnight Lycanroc."

"Nice lineup. Ghost and Dark types are cool."

"Hmmm...Do you have a favorite color?"

"Not really. I'm partial to the darker colors like red, blue, purple, grey, and black. But there's nothing I can pin down as a favorite."

"So why the white shirt?"

"White is neutral. Plus its laundry day. My roommate is supposed to help with that, but...*groan*"

He frowns.

"Want to talk about it?"

"Not really."

Thoughts of my roommate bring sourness to my mood. Bitch needs to stop fucking around and fucking get a job!

"Hey, I have an idea."

He tugs me out of my thoughts and rushes us over to a local florist shop. I think I pass by this one in my walks downtown. He pulls us in and I become a child, my eyes wandering from flower to flower all while inhaling the deep fragrant aromas. I part from him to take in the orchids, such colors, and petal shapes. I really like the ones that look like the night sky. With careful tenderness I stroke a few petals and can't get over how silky soft the plant is.

"Careful, darling..."

Peter's voice sings softly beside me.

"Those are very delicate."

"I know. My mom likes orchids. She'd have like four at any given time. I usually ended up tending to them in the end. Such as I do with a lot of things."

I turn my attention to him and see a long white box tucked under his arm. Don't tell me he did what I think he did.

"Pete..."

As if that was the signal he was waiting for, he offers said box to me.

"Here, I bought this for you. Thinking about earlier today in the park, it might have been a little creepy to ask you for a date on the spot. Then I go and bring up a sore spot for you...I thought I might get you a little something as a way of apologizing...I-If it was awkward for you, of course."

He...He got me something? He really went out of his way to get me something? I try to keep my hands steady but I can't stop the trembling completely. Thankfully he holds it for me so I only need to lift the lid off. Opening the box I look inside. I see two long-stem roses, with deep red petals. The thorns were removed and they are bound by a shimmering black silk ribbon. I can feel my eyes beginning to water.

"I-It's no bouquet or anything, but I thought that it looked nice."

I'm at a loss. This gesture is making my heart hurt. I want to speak but I can't make myself say a word. This gets his attention, his face drops and he moves to take the box back.

"O-Oh. I-I'm sorry...If you don't like them, I can swap them and get you something else. What do you like? Daisies? Sunflowers? Lilies?"

The desperation in his voice breaks me. Much like he did to me at the park, I pull him into an embrace and the shock has him drop the box.

"Lyn-..."

"Thank you..."

Shamefully my voice cracks.

"Thank you so much."

There's no hesitation on his end. His arms take hold of me and he nuzzles the top of my head. Why is it now I notice the height difference between us? I'm 5'7" and he's gotta be at least 6'5"? Man, I am spacing out lately. Probably my insomnia's fault. Time feels like it resumes when the cash register makes a noise and I pull back a bit. Peter is all smiles, his eyes are soft and full of la-la Disney magic.

"Let me just..."

He rubs his thumb under my eyes and wipes off some tears. I feel dumb yet smirk.

"Look at you. Being all knight in shining armor because I got emotional."

I get back to normal with a small sniffle and he pats my head.

"What kind of boyfriend would I be if I left you upset?"

He picks the box back up and checks the roses, a pout coming to his face.

"What's wrong?"

"They got a bit busted in the fall."

"Huh. Oh well. Stuff happens."

"But they're damaged. You deserve perfection."

"Pete, it's fine. The roses aren't important. You are."

His eyes widen a bit as I scoop the box from him.

"Flowers are sweet, yet fleeting once you have them. It's best to leave them be, let them bloom for as long as they can, and spread that beauty as far as the wind will carry. That's why I don't like flowers as a gift idea. Fake ones are fine. They don't fade away. But these, these roses...I'm going to treasure them. Not because they're expensive. Not because of any dumb marking saying roses are symbols of love. But because you honestly thought they'd make me happy. And that's...*sniffle* And that's more than anyone has done for me in a very long time. Thank you."

I'm trying hard not to cry. Damn getting emotional bull crap!

"Heh...Wow, I must really suck at this whole dating thing. Getting all worked up over a gift. Pathetic."

His hand comes up and holds my cheek.

"You're not pathetic."

He gives my forehead a chaste kiss.

"You're a sweetheart. And I love that about you."

Who is this guy and why does he know just what to say to make me feel better?

"Let's go. You're probably getting hungry."

"Sure."

I am a bit peckish but I mostly want to go because I'm fairly sure we're causing a scene at this point and I don't want to be a story the shop-keep will tell to others. We leave the flower shop in better spirits than when we entered, the box of roses clutched to my chest and his arm draped over my shoulders. I wonder if I'm being too lenient. Letting him be so close like this. Granted I feel unusually comfortable around him, like, I've felt this presence before and am used to it. But that doesn't make sense, we only met just today. I dunno...I think I should set some boundary rules. Let him know what is and isn't okay.

A familiar smell tickles my nose. Grease and smoke. In fact, the area we're strolling in is one that I know too well. I walk it almost every day.

"Hey, Pete..."

"Yes, darling?"

"Where are eating at?"

"Oh! Dad's Damn Diner. You know, the place you work at."

A knot suddenly grows in the pit of my stomach...How does he know where I work?

I hold this in as we reach the diner. Maybe he's a customer that I didn't pay attention to? While I work I let my mind drift and after a while, I do my job as if I were on auto-pilot. I don't really pay that much attention to names and faces, even towards regulars. Maybe he's one of those regulars, building up his courage to ask me out every day but kept losing his nerve? Only seeing his shot because we were alone in the park? It's kind of a cute thought, but what if that's not the case?

We take a seat at a booth in the back and I notice it's not very busy, which is less unusual than most people would think. The waitress on tonight's shift is surprised to see me not only at the diner on a day off but with someone. I don't mingle with other workers while on the clock so any personal business of mine would be considered a rare find to them. Yet I do like to think if something goes south they'll be my backup if Peter becomes something I can't handle. She comes over and gives us the generic greeting along with menus. The food here isn't worth much but the milkshakes are good. They are the old-fashioned kind made with real ice cream and ingredients, and not the powdered mix and flavored syrups like at fast food places. I order a large classic and Peter says he's good, teasing how we can share since he's my boyfriend. She eyes us funny but takes the order. I can only guess the diner is less busy than I assumed because she returns with the shake in what only feels like a few minutes later. Peter watches as I pull the spoon from the vintage-looking ice cream glass and lick it clean.

"Mmmm...That's the good stuff."

He snickers and takes the straw, still keeping eye contact as he sips. He seems pleased. Perhaps I can ask while he's in a good mood.

"So..."

"Something on your mind?"

Here goes nothing.

"...How did you know I work here?"

He chuckles.

"Ah, so that's why you went quiet. That's my fault for not explaining. I walk by this place rather often on my walks. I..."

His expression is like that of someone internally kicking themselves.

"I catch glimpses of you through the window from time to time when you're working. I tried coming in, but, heh, I get cold feet and keep walking. Like a loser..."

Now he's glaring down at the table shamefully.

"Just walk in and say 'hi'. It's easy, I tell myself. B-But then I lose my nerves and stay out. You must think I'm a creep."

Poor guy, I know the feeling. I've crushed on someone but could never admit my feelings, denying it when confronted because I was too scared. I regretted it. Sympathy has me reaching over and holding his hand.

"As someone that knows how strong shyness can be, believe me when I tell you this...You're not a loser. Anxiety is a tough beast to fight off. Sometimes it wins and when it does, it's harder to deal with. But it took courage to fight it off and ask me. I respect that."

I reassure him and give his hand a gentle squeeze. The expression of self-loathing leaves him as he smiles, shifting his hand to interlace his fingers in mine. My face is as red as the cherry atop the milkshake and I do a miserable job at hiding it in my other hand.

"God, you're cute when flustered."

I want to smack him but he's too sweet.

"If you keep this up I'm gonna blush to death."

"Oh? So does that mean you can get cuter than this?"

"Please don't try to find out."

He smirks, taking this as a challenge and I regret saying anything. He eyes the cherry before looking at me.

"Wanna see something cool?"

No...Don't tell me he can do the cherry trick.

"Sure?"

He pops the whole cherry in his mouth and I just watch the subtle movements made by his jaw. After a moment, he sticks the tip of his tongue out and the cherry stem is tied in a knot. I lose it at this point, hood covering me and face in the table. He snickers.

"Too much?"

"Dude, you're killing me softly here."

He laughs and I feel so dumb. It takes some time to calm down, especially since the hand holding is still a thing. But now I am hungry and that shake is too good to pass up. He eases up on being sweet while I'm able to enjoy the dairy treat. Though I do feel the occasional tap from his foot touching mine. Also, this gives me some time to think about the boundary rules. I just hope he'll be okay with them.

"Darling..."

He pops me out of my thoughts but not off the milkshake. My eye contact while drinking makes him flinch and he rubs his arm sheepishly.

"I-I know this hasn't been the best of first impressions or dates...But..."

The words are struggling to leave me.

"W-What would you say to...maybe...d-doing this again?"

Asking me out for a second date? Look who's getting braver. I'm proud of you, Peter.

"I'd like that."

His eyes go wide and he stares at me with surprise.

"Y-You do?"

I take a big sip before sliding the glass to him, not wanting to hog it all.

"Yeah, why not? This was interesting. Not to mention, one of the best days I've had in ages. I want to see you more, Pete."

His face glows as red as I imagine mine had, and he stammers wildly as all of his thoughts unexpectedly evaporate in an explosion of joy. It's cute seeing him struggle for a coherent thought while trying to contain his happiness. His happiness of being with me, of all people. I could get used to this. Someone honestly caring for me. A true boyfriend. I hope I don't disappoint his idea of me being a girlfriend.

A popping sound outside gets our attention. The sun is just barely out and streetlights are turning on. Damn it...As much as I'm enjoying his company, and regardless of how flattering it has been, I can't stay out for too long.

"Time flies when you're having fun."

"Can't stay out a bit longer?"

I shake my head.

"I have work in the morning. That and it's not really a good thing to walk home when the sun is gone."

"True."

He stands up and pulls me along by our still held hands.

"I hope it's not too much to ask to walk you home."

After everything else, I am not surprised in the slightest.

"My good sir, I'd be insulted if you didn't."

He tries to keep a cool composure, but I can see in his eyes that he is struggling not to bounce all over the walls. Fuck, this man is cute. I grab the rose box and insist on paying for the milkshake, it seemed fair considering I drank most of it and he already paid for me once today. With that done, together, we walk to my apartment.

The walk is nice and the two of us go back and forth in conversation. Peter, surprisingly, did most of the talking. Seems he got more comfortable being around me enough to open up a bit more. Like he kept going on about his job as a product tester, and how most of the stuff was cheap junk. He films himself testing things like appliances, little inventions that claim to work, food, life hacks, that sort of thing. Sometimes small companies even pay him to test their items to help them gain exposure. But he doesn't let that sway him into giving them good reviews. It apparently has its perks and has him well off, so he can't complain too much about it.

Once we arrive at my apartment, Peter looks down at me and tucks his hands into his pockets.

"Well, this is me. Home sweet home."

He grins shyly. We stand in the hallway, neither of us knowing exactly what to say next. Suddenly, I start to hear faint sounds of my roommate and their 'study partner' messing around inside. Peter hears them, too, and his eyes go a bit wide. So much for this date ending on a non-embarrassing moment. Even worse I begin to cringe over the sounds, and the mental images of the two of them on the kitchen countertop flashing in my mind. Peter is avoiding eye contact, and his cheeks are getting flush. Almost like he's picturing the same thing too. This bitch just keeps finding new ways to fuck my life up.

"Just kill me now..."

I mutter, not wanting to open the door to MY apartment. He seems to put things together, my reluctance to go inside due to my rather promiscuous roommate and this is merely the first date, so I'm not about to offer him to come inside. He steps back a bit to give me a little space.

"I...I better get going then."

"I'm sorry. She fucking drives me crazy."

"I can tell."

I run my hand over my face and give him a small smile.

"I really did have a great time, Pete. And if...This...Hasn't turned you off, I do still want to continue this."

Relief fills his eyes.

"I'd love nothing more. When do you wanna meet up? I mean, when you get then time."

I think for a moment. Shit! I work all day this week; not a single day off to my name. Still, maybe we can...

"I dunno...But...Tomorrow is a slow day since it's Sunday. You can come over if you'd like!"

Down girl! Don't come off desperate.

"Hmmm, having me pose as a customer to extend your break time...Devious...I like it."

"...Not what I was going for, but screw it. Sure. And if we get lucky we can play hooky and rebel against the establishment too."

I giggle to myself as he flashes a wry smile and leans in. I barely register how close he gets and back up much to his confusion.

"Not yet. I'm not ready."

He frowns a bit but nods.

"I understand."

He turns and starts walking down the hall. No...Don’t let him leave like that!

"Peter, wait!"

I panic and used his real name. He pauses mid-step and nearly trips over himself.

"What? What's wrong, darling?"

I don't know why but I'm trembling. Crap, for all my talk of bravery and overcoming shyness, I'm freezing up. All I can manage is to reach my hand out and he comes back to me, holding me close and stroking the back of my head.

"If you want me to stay, just say the word."

My throat is so dry. Damn it! Fucking speak you moron!!

"I...I've thought a lot on this..."

"Yes?"

"I'm not used to this...being with someone...being in a relationship..."

"I know. And that's fine. I won't force you to do anything you're not comfortable with."

My free hand balls into a fist and digs my nails hard, trying to claw myself into functioning.

"W-What if we do things like in video games?"

He pulls back to look at me.

"I know, it sounds stupid as fuck, but...I was thinking of it like...Dates are like quests, spending time together earns XP, which in turns gains levels, and levels unlock new aspects because comfortably would match. Fuck, this sounded less retarded in my head."

Why did I open my damn mouth?!

"So...What level are we on right now?"

Wait...Is he willing to...?

"Um...Level one. Available options are base level. Simple dialogue and minimal physical contact."

He cocks his eyes.

"And level two?"

I feel my cheeks redden.

"Unlockables include extended dialogue options, more personal content, closer physical contact, and possible bedroom access but options there are limited to quick-time events."

He leans his forehead to mine.

"And level three?"

I look at the floor...I...I didn’t think that far ahead.

"Error 404."

He kisses my forehead.

"No rush, darling. You're worth it."

I smile weakly up at him.

"Thank you."

Feeling a little braver, I take his hand and give a kiss to his palm much to his amusement.

"Should...Should we exchange numbers?"

"S-Sure!"

I reach around for my cellphone as he does the same and the numbers are given out. Finally...A reason to actually use this thing.

"See you tomorrow, boyfriend."

The title has him beaming.

"Till tomorrow, girlfriend."

He leaves me with a noticeable skip in his step like he's won the lottery. Damn him and his cuteness. I miss him already. Now to bite the bullet and avoid looking at whatever is happening inside.

Once I'm in my apartment, I quietly and quickly speed walk to my room. I don't know if they're in the kitchen or were just loud enough to sound it, I don't want to know. All I know is I'm not going to sleep any easier what with all the thumping and moaning going on. Damn it, I just want one decent night's rest!

I don't bother turning on the lights in my room, I know it too well in the dark at this point. I kick my shoes off and let the hoodie fall from my waist, switching on my alarm clock for the morning. I cradle the box in my arms, the warmth filling my heart is bliss compared to the cold shadows in the room. I open the box and set it to stand on my bedside drawer, a few loose petals fall.

"♪I like that you're broken, broken like me. Maybe that makes me a fool. I like that you're lonely, lonely like me. I could be lonely with you.♫"

I hum to myself and open the drawer, gathering a bottle of water and a bottle of sleeping pills. I'm too hyped to fall asleep naturally. That and this feels like a night insomnia will hit, it always seems to hit me when I need to get up for work. I down three pills and drink a bit but not all. Choosing to use the bottle for the roses. Might as well have them last for as long as I can make them. I take the ribbon off and play with it. Even in the moonlight, it shimmers. Cool. I tie it around my left wrist feeling giddy like a kid.

*bzzt*

My phone vibrates. A smile comes to me seeing the name and text.

{Peter Pan: Sweet dreams, darling~♥}

I reply.

{You make me smile too damn easily.}

{Peter Pan: That means I'm doing this right.}

{Sweet talk like that earns you so many hugs.}

{Peter Pan: Oh yeah? And what kind of talk earns me kisses?}

{I'll let you know when you reach level two, sweetie.}

{Peter Pan: Oh snap! Dropping the S-word on me. Such scandalous behavior! What's next?}

Oh my god, this dork is adorable.

{Okay, for that, I owe you one cheek kiss.}

{Peter Pan: ...Seriously?}

{Unless that's too scandalous for you~?}

{Peter Pan: Naughty girl. It's not nice to tease.}

A yawn slips out of me.

{No tease here. I'll smooch you later. Right now though, this gal's gonna catch some Zs. Nighty night, Pete.}

{Peter Pan: See you soon, darling~♥}

I turn my phone off and set it by the roses. I go over to the window and check it. I've been finding it open when I wake up and I'm starting to think my old sleepwalking habit is coming back out of stress. Got so bad as a kid that locks had to be changed because I was nearly escaping the house. The last thing I need is to be sleepwalking my dumbass out the window and get hit by a car or worse. Satisfied the lock is set, I close the curtains, forego changing, and tuck myself in for the incoming smothering wave of medicated slumber. My mind never straying from thoughts of Peter. Nuzzling the ribbon on my wrist grants me the sweet scent of roses.

I'm so happy to have met him...

…

(an ominous shadow slowly appears in the window)

[tragedybunny]

You've Always Felt Like Home to Me

Pride Month Content

Swain has a lot of feelings about his oldest friend Marcus Du Couteau that he's not really sure how to sort out. But tonight it looks like he'll have to figure them out at last.

It was downpouring, a vicious storm had blown in from the seas that bordered the capital of the Empire, Noxus Prime. Jericho Swain hadn’t exactly figured that into his plans for the evening, arriving at the home of his friend Marcus Du Couteau just as nature unleashed its fury. His intention had only been to deliver a stack of documents, likely target lists given his friend’s occupation, from High Command and then be on his way. Even one as stubborn as he could now see the building danger though, and he knew he would have to cut his errands short. When the doors to Du Couteau manor were opened, his old friend was as eager to welcome him as always. A man of lean muscle, not too tall in stature, with flowing locks of red hair, Marcus looked more like a privileged noble than an elite assassin.

Jericho had hardly shook the water from his coat after greeting him before Marcus was imploring him to stay. A request he rigidly tried to turn down at first. “Jericho, don’t be so intractable Not even you can fight the elements, though I’m sure you’d like to try.”

There was something about his friend’s warmth that always made him feel peculiar, almost as if there was something in his life that wasn’t quite right. “I’d hate to impose, I’m sure you and Soreana already have plans.” And his wife made him feel decidedly more negative emotions. There was something about her, always hovering around Marcus, insisting things be done her way, eyeing him like he were some sort of interloper.

“Don’t worry, your nemesis is out of the house this evening.” He knew he’d lost that careful control he kept of his expression for a moment when Marcus chuckled. “Yes, you’ve always been that obvious. Now stop dawdling in my foyer Jericho.” He grumbled his protest to make record of the fact that he wasn’t doing this willingly as Marcus called for a servant to take his coat. “I hope you don’t mind, the children are still here though.” That almost turned him back, the children had their own effect on him, a feeling he couldn’t even begin to describe.

As if on cue, an ear-piercing shriek filled the air and Marcus adopted the face he always associated with his slipping into the role of stern parent. A girl of about eight with honey blonde hair and chocolate eyes full of tears ran to him. “I couldn’t have guessed that fact.” Jericho snarked and was promptly shushed.

“Papa, she took my doll and she..she” the child sobbed without speaking coherently for a moment, “she killed her.”

Marcus picked up Cassiopeia and began to try and comfort her. “Katarina, get out here.” His voice conveyed displeasure without resorting to yelling.

A few moments later, his older daughter, about ten, who shared his red hair and emerald eyes appeared, not looking in the least ashamed of herself or penitent. She was followed by a boy who looked nothing like any of the Du Couteau’s and seemed to be trying to blend into the shadows. Jericho recognized him as Marcus’s adopted son, Talon. “She’s being hysterical, it’s only a joke. See, the doll is fine.” Katarina spoke with confidence and handed over the wooden figure without hesitation.

Marcus sighed. “I appreciate your boldness Kat, but I can see you’ve changed the dress. There’s a stab wound under it, isn’t there?” The girl suddenly lost her smirk. “We will talk about tormenting your sister later, for now, you can see Uncle Jericho is here. Why don’t you get to the parlor and if you behave yourselves you can stay up late.” Outside, a peal of thunder roared and Cassiopeia whimpered in her father’s arms. “Maybe he’ll even tell you a story from his time in Shurima.” Jericho shot him a disapproving look, entertaining children wasn’t one of his natural gifts. Another burst of thunder and the two older children were clearly putting on a brave face with the storm reaching new intensity.

He followed as Marcus led the way to the family’s first-floor parlor, he was familiar enough with the manor that could’ve found it on his own, but he was a guest and wanted to keep some level of decorum, despite the screeching, arguing, little malcontents Marcus called children. The youngest was quiet, glaring at her siblings from her father’s arms while they whispered violently to each other about something. A fire greeted them, blazing away in the great fireplace and the servants had left various wines and liquors on a sideboard. There were a few children’s games and some books placed on the floor. It was unconventional to mix the children with company, but both he and his friend had always sought to overturn the smothering traditions of their social class.

The two men settled onto the sofa after Cassisopiea was finally coaxed into joining her siblings at a game. Behind them was a large window that filled the room with the sound of the pounding rain and occasional flashes of lightning. Each of them had taken a glass of wine, which Jericho sipped it to avoid concentrating on the feeling of creeping warmth that always came when Marcus was too close. “Isn’t this preferable to being outside getting soaked.”

“I suppose now that the screaming has stopped.” He kept his voice low as he didn’t want that same screaming directed at him next.

“Stop, you know you enjoy them.” Maybe it was his imagination but it felt as though Marcus had moved closer to him and their hands brushed against one another.

“If you must believe that, by all means, continue with your delusions.” The last remark did cause him the slightest amount of guilt. The children weren’t terrible, he just had no idea what to do with them, and in a way, they always represented Soreana to him.

For a while the two men sat sipping wine and making light conversation, talking about the Empire’s wars, High Command’s latest rumors, and how they would improve things when they finally held all the power. Jericho even eventually gave in and told the children about one of his victories on the Shuriman front, the storm providing a natural theatrical effect. As he talked about his soldiers breaking the resistance of the savage locals, charging an ancient castle, and finally raising the Noxian standard, Katarina and Talon stared raptly, cheering at the end. Cassiopeia looked bored but had the good grace to remain quiet, cradling her doll. Afterward, the two persuaded her into a game of pretend soldiers, and Jericho was allowed to settle back into his seat.

As he made himself comfortable, he felt Marcus’s shoulder against his own and his pulse raced a bit. There was something about these moments, being close to Marcus, the children hovering around them, it awakened something in him. He wouldn’t call it longing, mostly because he didn’t want to. It felt like seeing a life that could have been, a life he could have chosen but didn’t. He had his military career and Marcus had his perfect family.

The first of the children fell asleep on the floor, surprisingly it was the boy. The two girls began to argue quietly over something. He felt the weight of a head resting on his shoulder and in the pleasant haze of wine, he instinctively wrapped his arm around his friend. “You know, you should spend the night.” The tone was blatantly suggestive.

He froze up, it had been years since he’d heard an offer like that from Marcus. He’d always refused, deeper connections were things that would only put him off his chosen path. But in the ambiance of firelight and rain patter, with the future he’d denied on display for him, he didn’t feel the same resolve. He’d tasted the life he’d chosen, seen the reality of hundreds of empty, lonely nights. He hadn’t come here expecting this, but now he wanted nothing more than to seize it. “Won’t Soreana disapprove?”

Marcus sighed, his breath tickling Jericho’s ear. “Maybe if she were ever here to do so. Don’t be stubborn Jericho. It’s just one night.”

He knew he shouldn’t, despite her absence, this was Soreana’s place and Soreana’s life. He couldn’t do more than steal a few hours of it. Still, the refusal wouldn’t come out of his mouth, no matter what logic he tried to apply to himself. Marcus was warm, handsome, intelligent, and charismatic. The only human Jericho had a hard time finding fault with. There had been so many times he’d second-guessed himself over the years. But he needed to remain firm, remember why he focused on his career.

Then he felt the brush of lips against his cheek and what was left of his resolve was swept away completely. “One night couldn’t hurt I suppose.”

Marcus threaded his fingers into his and squeezed. “I knew someday you’d come around. Let’s get the kids to bed and then we can do the same.” Jericho nodded in agreement before boldly leaning in and kissing Marcus’s temple softly.