#but also we are all aware that we either keep something circulating or reblog it or we lose it to the void

[offonaherosjourney]

"Aww, it's so cute that Tumblr users keep old posts circulating". Thanks, it's because the search feature is irremediably broken

[sullustangin]

Darth Marr and Satele Shan:  Names and Priorities

I’ve reached the point in my Yavin fic that I’m starting to use Marr’s POV on occasion.  One of the things I’ve been chewing on (likely to the annoyance of others) has been the Marr-Satele-Theron dynamic during the Yavin 4 op.  It’s clear that Satele and Marr have put aside differences and have become friends (as much as a Force ghost and a self-exiled Jedi Master can be friends) by Chapter 12 of KotFE. 

I give credit to @swtorpadawan for posting about Satele on Yavin 4 a few months ago and being willing to have continued discourse about the post -- thank you.  In comments and reblogs, there’s been discussion about how to interpret Satele’s references to Theron during the op and her motivations for why she does this. 

This is a spin-off of that post, since I’ll be focusing more on the dynamic between Marr and the Shans instead of Theron and Satele. 

During the Yavin op, Theron is consistently referred to as Theron, not as Agent Shan or as Shan.  The issue of his last name is avoided.   A few people (including me) have the headcanon that ‘Shan’ is a common name in the galaxy, like Smith or Patel or Garcia would be on our world; two people named Shan does not a family connection make, necessarily.  It would explain why Theron doesn’t have a code name (though he jokingly? complains about it on first meeting). 

And yet, Satele avoids using the name in reference to Theron.  So does Marr.  And Theron doesn’t insist on being referred to by his last name, even though his peer, Lana Beniko, is referred to as ‘Beniko’ by Marr. (Satele never addresses Lana using her name.)

Why the dance? 

Honestly, when I try to reverse-engineer dev!logic, in terms of the game design for Yavin 4, I’d guess it was done to help the player differentiate between Grand Master Shan and Agent Shan.  And maybe that’s all it is: calling Theron “Theron” just keeps the player from getting confused, especially if the player isn’t a Jedi and doesn’t know Satele; and/or skipped the Forged Alliances quests and thus doesn’t know Theron.

Within the universe, however, what’s an explanation a player can come up with?

The Spies in Question

Theron’s name was broadcast across the galaxy as a wanted man for killing Colonel Darok.  He was to be apprehended on sight, but Theron was a spy; spy agencies to this day rarely let any images of their active duty agents be circulated, even if they do go rogue or defect to the other side.  Theron’s image in direct connection to his name and job as SIS agent would be on a need-to-know basis.  This has led me to headcanon that Director Trant was well-aware of Theron going off the grid; in fact, he aided and abetted it.

Lana, on the other hand, was a known member of the Sphere of Military Offense.  She commanded troops on Hoth.  She had a known face, and there was an Imperial bounty contract on her head, per Theron at Manaan.  If anything, Lana was in as much danger as Jakarro; someone could try to claim the bounty on her head, since the bounties weren’t lifted til the end of the Yavin op.

And yet, Theron’s name was the unspeakable one. 

Satele and Theron

As I’ve mentioned elsewhere, I feel that the dynamic between Theron and Satele is not that of son and mother; both of them have gotten past that decision.  Rather, it’s more similar to a child who was given up for adoption looking for some sort of acknowledgement from his birth family -- it’s not love.  It’s not approval.  It’s.... complicated.  Acknowledgement of existence.  Acknowledgement that the decision had impact on Theron well beyond his first year of life.  Acknowledgement that Satele hurt Jace. 

I’ve interpreted Theron’s bristling at the use of the term “my agent” to be more directed at the possessiveness of the word, yet how far apart they still are, despite the biological connections.  Technically, Yavin 4 was the first time they worked on an op together.  This was their first professional collaboration.  They haven’t seen each other socially, they can’t talk about their issues/relationship/whatever.....and they have to save the galaxy together.

Giving up Theron doesn’t mean Satele felt nothing. She privately struggles with what she did and how it turned out -- still does, based on 6.2.   However, she, like Jace and Theron, believe in serving the cause at great personal cost.  Seeing Theron beat to hell after Rishi bothered her -- it would bother anyone with any sense of compassion (which she does have).  Theron got the beatdown he did because he was taken by the Revanites.  Revan attempted to convince Theron to join him on Yavin 4 by invoking the idea that they are flesh and blood -- family.

Pretty sure Revan wasn’t talking about the Malcom side.  Satele knew that.  Was there a sense of protectiveness for Theron because of what happened immediately before Yavin 4?  I think so, yes, but it’s not motherly.

Theron’s experience on Rishi probably made Satele hyperaware that if Theron was of interest to the Revanites, then the Empire would doubly interested in Theron if they knew that he was not only an heir of Revan, but that the Grand Master of the Jedi Order was his biological mother.   Referring to him as “my agent” may be Satele’s way to avoid using any part of his name on Yavin 4.

I’m willing to bet, regardless of any efforts to ignore or conceal Theron’s name, that Marr quickly figured out that the agent who managed to outfox Revan, resist torture, get Marr’s attention, and unravel an intergalactic conspiracy was something special to the Republic.  Odds were that this agent had acted against the Empire.

Marr would be interested.

The History of Darth Marr and Satele Shan

Prior to Yavin 4, Marr and Satele had most recently squabbled over Makeb in the Hutt Cartel expansion through their various operatives.  When Marr saw Satele on the Imp side Battle of Rishi, he bowed.  He respected her and she respected him.  I didn’t get any other impression from their interactions. They saw each other as equals, though on rival sides; that creates tension, since a fight between them would be a draw or mutually assured destruction.  It’s highly likely they fought against each other in the previous Galactic War (which I’ll talk about below). 

Marr was born in 3702 BBY, Satele in 3699 BBY.  They’re about the same age, and they ascended almost equally quickly when the Sith returned in 3681 -- Satele is 18, Marr is 21.  I have spoken about how Satele and Jace (who seems to be somewhere between 16 and 20 in the trailer) were essentially just kids when the conflict started.  So was Marr.

The big difference, in terms of how their characters are constructed, is that we have the end product of Marr.  Period.  We don’t know what his name was before he took on the name ‘Darth Marr.’  We know nothing about his family, his relationships, his struggles.  As Marr said later to the player in KotFE, he wanted to be a symbol to the Empire.  Marr did not let himself be just a man.

Darth Marr is not the singular leader of the Sith.  Marr is the head of the Sphere of Defense of the Empire for decades, and as of the Battle of Corellia and the death of Darth Decimus, he also becomes the head of the Sphere of Military Strategy.  With 2 of Military Spheres in his grasp, Marr was the de facto leader of the armed forces of the Sith Empire.  The Sphere of Military Offense passed from Baras to Arho and then to Arkous after Ilum.  When Arkous is killed by the player’s character, there is no indication as to who was the next head; that Sphere is never spoken of again in-game.  We may assume Marr took hold of that.  Either way, he has become the de facto leader of the Sith Empire.  His voice, his robes and mask -- immediately recognizable to the whole galaxy.

The creators of content for SWTOR took the opposite approach to Satele. We can read about how her mother Tasiele was forced into exile when Satele was still a child.  We meet Satele at 18 in a SWTOR trailer during the first Sith incursion at Korriban.  We see her in comics fighting against the Empire.  We see her at the Battle of Alderaan against Malgus.  In Annihilation,we see bits and pieces of her falling in love with Jace Malcom and hoping she doesn’t get too attached... until a pair of permanent complications occur in 3667 BBY:   Jace was severely maimed in the Battle of Alderaan, and Satele got pregnant.  Jace’s injuries made him a much harder person than the soldier Satele met in 3681 BBY; he scared her with his hatred of the Empire. 

I’ll take a moment here to say that Satele wasn’t dumb or naive when she made the decision about Theron.  Satele was at least 32 years old, possibly 33 by the time Theron was born in 3666 BBY. She wasn’t a teen having a knee-jerk “oh noes, he’s evil” moment.  She had been in a constant state of war for 15 years when she got pregnant.   It’s in that context that Satele was concerned that Jace’s hatred could drag their child to the Dark Side... but also, Satele’s love for her child would make it impossible for her to serve the Republic without a second thought.  She couldn’t fight and die for the Republic if she was always preoccupied with coming home to her baby.

So she let Theron go.  She had other adventures.  She was at the Treaty of Coruscant.  Satele founded Tython.  She became the Grand Master of her order.

We don’t get any of that pathos or glory with Marr.   Marr IS.  Marr is the Empire. He is the best of them.  He has been, is, and will be. 

The odds are pretty good that Marr and Satele met each other in combat, directly or indirectly. The bow on Imp side Rishi is a big thing for me that points to that.  Also, look at their responsibilities during the last war.  Marr was responsible for not only defending Korriban and what would become the Imperial core, but also any gains the Sith made over time against the Republic.  That’s the job of the Sphere of Defense of the Empire; taking planets was somebody else’s rodeo, not Marr’s.  His job was to defend... something the Imperial people living on these planets would love him for.  He was their protector against brutish Republic troops and their systemic corruption. 

Satele was responsible for winning those territories back; we see her on counter-strikes against the Sith.  Satele is cast as the liberator of people imperiled by the spreading Sith Empire, not a conqueror taking new territory.  Marr probably had to defend against Satele at least once in their careers, possibly multiple times.  If she was absent from the front lines for any period of time, Marr would have noticed; he had to anticipate the next move of Republic counterstrikes as part of his job. 

And indeed, Satele was absent for an extended period.  How long Satele was absent from the battlefield due to her pregnancy, we don’t know. Satele did continue her battlefield duties for “months” after she found out.  The only information we have about post-partum Satele is that she stopped visiting Baby Theron at 6 months old, according to Lost Suns.  I don’t think she could just skip off at random while in command, so I think she probably was off the battlefield at least 10 months (last 4 months of her pregnancy, 6 months post-partum), possibly as long as 18 months, since Gnost-Dural reports she was assigned to duty with the Republic Navy at some point in 3665 BBY.  She did give birth on a random planet in a cave, so she didn’t exactly have the best medical care immediately.  Maybe there were complications. Maybe she did show early. We don’t know.

Regardless of the timeline, Marr would have been paying attention.  Marr would have noticed when Satele Shan stopped fighting for the Republic.  Where was she?  What was she doing?  Was this part of a greater plot by the Republic?  What were they planning?  And when Satele did return, he may well have wondered what she had been up to.  But no matter; she had returned.  Marr had to be ready.

There’s no obvious indication in the game as to when Marr figures out Satele and Theron are mother and son.  He makes no comment to indicate that he knew before Rishi.  Based on Marr’s dialogue in game on the Imperial side, he heavily suggests that he knows who Theron is by the time Iven, the former commandant of the Imperial Guard, is taken into custody and it’s time to interrogate him. Satele objects to Marr’s plans to torture Iven.  “And what do you think your agent has done in the Republic’s name?” is Marr’s response. 

The delivery of ‘your agent’ is indicative that Marr knows.

Theron himself stated at the end of the Imp side romance that if he was indeed recruited by the player to join the Empire, people would be suspicious that he’d be working for his mother.  That would have to include Darth Marr. 

Personally, I would guess that the after-action reports from Lana and Theron would have some clues for Marr.  However, once Theron had healed up from the Rishi events, Marr may well have taken one look at Theron standing next to Satele, and then had an epiphany so immense it gave him a headache that Lana felt across the compound.  There’s the answer.  That’s why she disappeared for almost two years, twenty-nine years ago. Theron Shan.

(According to Jace in Annihilation, Theron has some similar features to his mother. He doesn’t specify which ones.)

The Lie of Omission

A lie of omission is permitting an inaccuracy or a falsehood to continue to circulate without correction, even though the person knows the truth. (In contrast, a lie of commission is when you actively make something up or contribute to the lie -- you commit the act lying.)  Marr signals he knows who Theron is by the time Iven is retrieved from the Imperial Guard training facility on Yavin, but he never says the name Theron Shan out loud.   It’s simply “the agent” “your agent” or “Theron.”  But not Agent Shan.

The use of “Theron” in the Pubside story is most eyebrow-raising.  

Marr calls people by their titles. Marr always keeps professional distance.  Underlings are uniformly referred to by their titles.  Lana doesn’t like titles, so Marr doesn’t refer to her as Lord Beniko or Darth whatever;  it’s just Beniko.

Calling someone by their first name is highly irregular.  He does not refer to Satele as such until 6.2 (and that might be the Socratic Problem of Marr in the player’s memory rather than the real Marr).  It’s always Grand Master or Grand Master Shan. In a unique instance in the game, Marr calls Theron by his given name when he finds the Imperial Guard’s buildings in ruins during the Pubside story:  “But given the destruction Theron describes, it’s mostly likely a distress call.”  This is before the Pub operative annoys Marr by going to the Imperial Guard facility by themselves; it’s not said in anger or in irritation.  It’s said under ‘normal’ circumstances (if circumstances on Yavin are normal at all). 

But why?  Why not “Agent Shan”?  That would differentiate him from Grand Master Shan.  Just referring to the pair as Grand Master and Agent would work too; how many Grand Masters and SIS Agents are running around on Yavin 4?  Why is Marr avoiding attention to the man’s last name?

And why doesn’t Marr hop on this and use it to the Empire’s advantage?

Pragmatism and Prioritization

Marr is not a Jedi.  Marr doesn’t do things for the greater good.  He does things for the Sith Empire and for the people of the Sith Empire.  Offing Theron Shan?  Definitely on the agenda.  So is killing Satele, eventually.

But not now.  Not on Yavin 4.

Marr is probably the person closest to knowing what Revan is going to try to do in order to make the Emperor take physical form again so he can kill him.  It’s going to involve a lot of dead people.  That can easily happen; up until this tiny fragile cease fire between Marr and Satele, the Empire and the Republic have been engaged in a hot war. When they first make camp on Yavin, there is a real possibility they’ll frag each other regularly.  This is why players have to do daily quests, in theory -- to build good will between the factions. 

My partner is a military nerd and a Star Wars nerd.  He watched both version of the Battle of Rishi.  His conclusion:  based on the ships we see, Marr had more than twice the number of troops that Satele did (I put the numbers in my Yavin 4 fic).  The Imperial troops, at Marr’s word, probably could wipe out the Republic forces on Yavin 4, pack up, and head back to Dromund Kaas in time for tea.

But they won’t.  Marr wouldn’t permit it.

He knows how dangerous the Emperor is, and if he does let his troops kill the Pubs, they feed him. There also appears to be some sort of weird mystical thing going on with Revan’s bloodline.  Revan knew highly personal information about Theron (and Theron says so when the player opens the temple later on); somehow, Theron was able to use that connection to get Revan to give up Yavin 4 and secure an invite there at the end of the Rishi op.

Marr knows about this.  Marr doesn’t know what Revan would do if Marr did kill Theron or Satele, plus there’s the more predictable possibility that the Republic would respond to the death of Satele Shan thanks to the Jedi feeling it through the Force.  Chancellor Saresh would not let that opportunity pass by, even if it did feed the Emperor; we saw that at Ziost. 

Grand Master Shan is a public figure.  Her name and her power is obvious to everyone in the Yavin camp.  Theron, however, is everything his mother is not.  He is a spy.  His face is not known to the general public.  His work is secret, his exact abilities unknown.

Sure, the last name is common enough....

But Theron and Satele have never worked together before.  They’ve never operated in such close proximity before.  Yavin 4 would be the first time all the pieces could fall into place to someone observant.  Marr is many things, but one of the things he really gets annoyed about in regard to the Sith is their arrogance.  They get such fat heads that they can’t see obvious danger or they overlook aliens and non-Force Sensitives to their own detriment. 

Marr isn’t arrogant.

He doesn’t think he’s the only one who can see a family similarity or sense some connection between them.  Saying someone’s name is a powerful thing; we get upset when someone screws up our name.  It’s how our attention is attracted.  Shared last names of interesting people attract attention.  Attention leads to distraction away from the primary goal of stopping Revan and the Emperor.

That’s something Marr doesn’t want to deal with right now.  Revan and Emperor now.  The Shans later.  He avoids referring to Theron as “Shan” so as to reduce any chance that some young Sith will attempt to make their bones killing Theron, since that would spell doom for the Empire, whether through Revan’s anger or the Republic’s revenge.  It would also help empower the Sith Emperor to retake physical form, which is the last thing Marr wants him to do. 

Exposing the Grand Master as having a secret son would remove an ally from the field for Marr; Marr doesn’t want to destroy his assets before he’s used them to their full ability.  There’s no point in burning Satele Shan on Yavin 4 before Revan is dealt with. 

...And Marr respects her.  It’s a cheap way to win against a rival he knows to be his equal.

Marr wants to end Revan and the Emperor now, in that order, to defend the people of the Empire.  He’ll worry about the Shans later.  Marr will let Theron’s last name be overlooked and unmentioned, if only because it makes his job as Defender of the Empire less complicated for a few months.

**

Thanks again to @swtorpadawan​ and also @inyri​ @shabre-legacy​ @theniveanlegacy​ for discussing the original post about Satele and Theron and making me think about this.  

Headcanon Postface:

This last bit is purely my headcanon ideas about Marr, so you can leave here if you so desire. I’m placing them here rather than making a separate post and having to link back to this one. 

As I’ve described previously, we have the finished product of Darth Marr, with none of the personal insight that was provided for Satele Shan.  Who’s under the mask?  Nobody knows, really.  His first comic book adventure takes place in 3678, when he’s about 24 years old.  There’s nothing about his life beforehand that would let the player wonder how his past life affected his current decisions.  Marr ultimately would do the best he could for the Empire, regardless, but knowing if he ever hesitated, ever had second thought, had a regret -- that would make him mortal. 

And Marr is an icon, not a man, in the grander SWTOR universe, per the writers. That’s the point driven home to the player.  So that leaves it to fan fic to take off the mask or not. 

In “The Planter of Trees and Other Tales from Yavin 4,” Marr comes to this conclusion about the Shans’ relationship after observing two Shan chins.  He then alludes to understanding Satele’s decision to conceal Theron’s existence.

After Marr had gained his seat on the Dark Council (late 3680s, early 3670s), a lot of Sith families wanted him to add to their prestige. The man needed a legacy; he needed heirs.  Marr had already set himself on his path, however; he understood that it was better to be an icon.  If Marr was a normal man, he would be weakened by family connections, love, protectiveness, concern for his personal future.  Instead, Marr’s devotion to the Empire was unmatched and pure.  In the public’s eye, he was the great defender. He was the perfect Sith.

Marr never did have a public wife or a political marriage. His private life -- better secured than Imperial state secrets -- produced a  daughter that did not inherit her talents from her Force-Using parent.  Marr had been relieved that his daughter was not like him.  It meant she would never be pressured to come into public life. It meant she was free of the burden of his legacy. 

Lately, I’ve considered that, regardless of having access to the Force or not, a child of Marr was always in danger of becoming a pawn.  She was something Marr’s enemies could use against him, if they ever found out about her; being Force-Null simply meant that others could not detect her as easily. That may have also have been a concern of Satele in regard to Theron, especially as she rose through the ranks of the Jedi Order.  As soon as Marr could let his daughter fly away from Dromund Kaas, he did.  She was free. 

She died shortly before the Sack of Coruscant.  Marr did not go to her. The Empire had to matter more.  That doesn’t mean he didn’t love her.  He just never could prioritize her over the Empire. 

In my fic universe, Marr understands Satele’s choices.  He can keep his mouth shut.  For now. 

Theron is far more dangerous to the rival faction than Marr’s daughter ever was, however; he is an active player in the war, while she... just got caught in the middle, in the end....

Revan and Emperor now.  Shans later.

**

[amanda-glassen]

The Wonder Years: Part 4

While getting ready for her first school dance, twelve-year-old Olivia starts a path toward discovering who she is truly meant to be. Parts 1-3 can be found under the the tag #alex and liv: the wonder years

Thank you to everyone who reblogged the last chapter and an extra special thank you to @storiesofsvu @ghostwritingcabenson @oliviaswifey @denpine @cabensons and my two anons for your kind words and encouragement to keep going with this.

Approaching the entryway to her middle school in the morning was always a scary thought for Olivia, but at 6 o’clock on the night of her first school dance, the entryway seemed downright menacing. Other students were excitedly approaching the entryway－some with groups of friends, others with dates－but none seemed to be as nervous as Olivia.

“Ms. Benson, can you take a picture of Olivia and me together?” Alex asked. She handed her phone over to Serena and yet another wave of nervousness hit Olivia. She’s going to hug me or something and my mom is going to freak out again.

The two of them posed near the colorful Spring Fling banner with Olivia afraid to even wrap her arm around Alex. She had wanted to get the pictures over with until she saw how disappointed Alex looked. 

“Loosen up, kid,” Jamie teased her. “It’s your first dance, not your first day of school. Why don’t you twirl her?”

Olivia gave her a confused look. “Twirl her? How?”

“Like this,” Jamie held out her hand for her girlfriend. “Serena.”

Alex and Olivia watched as Jamie did a twirling pose with Serena. When she decided to actually twirl her, Serena let out a squeal that made Alex giggle.

She grabbed Olivia’s hand and tried to get Olivia to go along with it. “Olivia! Twirl me, please! That looks so cute!”

With an encouraging look from Jamie, Olivia held Alex’s hand and raised her arm up to twirl her. Alex smiled and giggled and Olivia considered that giggle to be her new favorite sound and she was now willing to do just about anything to hear it again. 

Alex looked so beautiful and so happy in the pictures and, although she wasn’t too big on social media, Olivia couldn’t wait to post them and brag to everyone about her girlfriend.

“I’ll send you the pictures, Ms. Benson,” Alex said while scrolling through her phone. “You too, Olivia. I’m going to post these and show everyone how cute and dapper my girlfriend is.”

“Alex! Alex!” They heard a girl shout. Olivia looked ahead and saw Serena Southerlyn, Alex’s best friend, walking toward them.

“Hi, Serena!” Alex responded. 

Olivia watched as the two of them hugged and complimented each other’s dresses and hair. She liked seeing Alex with her friends because it made her feel like she was in some sort of alternate universe. Olivia’s friends were mostly boys and they wouldn’t be caught dead complimenting each other’s appearance. Instead, there were high-fives when they greeted each other and the occasional teasing that was all in fun.

“We should go in now,” Alex said to Jamie and Serena. “Thank you Ms. Castillo and Ms. Benson. I appreciate you both bringing us.” 

"What's the rush?" Alex's best friend asked Alex and Olivia. Olivia noticed her girlfriend roll her eyes when Serena approached Jamie. "I don't believe we've been properly introduced. My name is Serena Southerlyn. I'm a friend of Alex's and an acquaintance of Olivia's. You are the most dashing woman I have ever seen. Would you escort me to the dance?"

Alex covered her face with her hands. "Serena! You have a girlfriend."

Olivia looked at her mom who had started scrolling through her phone to prevent herself from laughing, but her movement got the attention of the younger Serena. "Who is she?" the twelve-year-old Serena asked Jamie with a disgusted look on her face. 

Jamie reached for her girlfriend’s hand. "She's my girlfriend who is also named Serena."

"And she's my mommy," Olivia said defensively. Once the word 'mommy' came out of her mouth, she was grateful the guys weren't around. Instead it was just Alex who looked at her adoringly.

"You are a very beautiful girl," Jamie began. "And I'm sure you're aware that girls named Serena are always the prettiest and always the most special, which is why there's only room for one Serena in my heart, but I know for a fact it won't be long before some girl sweeps you off your feet."

Alex tugged at Serena’s arm to get her to leave with them. "Some girl already has. She has a girlfriend, one whose parents will be dropping her off at the designated drop off area any time now."

"Fine," twelve-year-old Serena yanked her arm from Alex's grip before gesturing to the older Serena. "If this doesn't work out, Jamie, you know where to find me.”

Mrs. Carmichael’s SUV pulled into the drop off area and when Abbie stepped out of the vehicle in the same navy blue and floral criss cross fit and flare dress as Serena, Serena ran over to her without saying another word. 

It had taken every ounce of willpower she had, but Serena Benson had managed to hold in her laughter until the twelve-year-old Serena was out of earshot. “If she’s like that at twelve, what is she going to be like at seventeen?” She playfully smacked Jamie’s arm. “I guess I just have five years left with you.”

“Forgive her,” Alex smiled nervously. “Ever since she turned twelve, all she can think about is women. And please don’t judge me based on my best friend. I promise my heart belongs only to Olivia.”

Once she heard that, Olivia couldn’t decide if she wanted to beam with pride because of how Alex felt or cease to exist because of how her mom would react. With no idea what to do with herself, she stood there with her eyes wide.

“I’m sure you’re the perfect girlfriend for Olivia,” Serena said as she pulled Olivia in and gave her a tight embrace. Olivia felt like her circulation was being cut off, but what made matters worse is when her mom planted a kiss on her cheek. “My little Ollie. I love you so much.”

Olivia finally managed to move just enough to give Jamie a look that she hoped she would see as a cry for help. “Come on, babe, be cool.” Jamie snickered. “She’s in middle school now. She’s got a reputation to protect.”

Olivia’s reputation consisted of when she ran away the first time Alex flirted with her and the time she narrowly avoided walking into a pole and instead fell down on the cement and scraped her knee as a result of watching Alex apply lip gloss. Now that she thought about it, she no longer had a reputation to protect, but she was grateful for Jamie’s statement nonetheless.

“I’ll let you go,” Serena told her, just slightly lessening the tightness of her embrace. “I want you girls out here at nine o’clock. If not, I’m going in there and I will make an announcement that I’m looking for Olivia Margaret Benson in 6th grade, core 1, Mrs. Peterson’s homeroom.”

“Oh, god,” Olivia groaned, a look of absolute terror on her face. 

“She’s kidding, Olivia,” Alex giggled.

“She’s not,” Olivia worriedly responded.

As soon as they entered the auditorium, Olivia realized, aside from the colorful streamers and punch, the dance was nothing like she expected. The seventh and eighth graders were all on the dance floor, but the sixth graders were separated along gender lines with the boys on one wall of the auditorium and girls on another. Her friends who had all talked big just one day prior were now even too afraid to stand near their dates. The only sixth graders who seemed to be enjoying themselves were Abbie and Serena who were on the dancefloor along with the older kids. 

“Do you wanna dance?” Olivia asked Alex while she scanned the room.

“I don’t know,” Alex responded nervously. “I mean, maybe later. This isn’t my song.”

“Yeah, good idea,” Olivia nodded, feeling completely relieved. “This isn’t my song either.”

Their friends may have been on opposite sides of the auditorium, but what soon brought them together was Olivia’s new haircut, which much to her chagrin, became the topic of conversation among their respective groups. The girls showered her with compliments, some of which made Alex start to feel jealous until Olivia squeezed her hand to reassure her that she was the only girl for her. 

A slow song began to play and, although Olivia hadn’t magically learned how to slow dance over the last few minutes, she knew another romantic gesture might be required to make Alex feel better. Even if I make a complete fool of myself, she’s worth it.

“May I have this?” Olivia blurted out.

Alex narrowed her eyes. “Have what?” she asked before Olivia realized she hadn’t finished the rest of her question about asking her to dance.

Her girlfriend may not have been the most popular girl in sixth grade, but Alex and her friends held enough rank in the sixth grade social scene for that moment to be sufficiently awkward for Olivia with all of them exchanging glances and wondering what Olivia was trying to ask.

“Dance with me?” Olivia’s voice squeaked for a third time that night.

Her question was followed by a chorus of ‘aww’ and ‘how cute’ from Alex’s friends, but most importantly, it was followed by a kiss on the cheek from Alex. “I’d love to dance with you, Olivia.”

Olivia tried to remember every prom scene from teen movies she had watched with her mom on Netflix so she could know where to place her hands during slow dancing until she realized she usually got bored of those movies and the two of them would watch some cheesy horror movie from when her mom was a teenager because Olivia considered those way more fun, especially when they’d turn the lights off in their apartment and eat junk food on the couch while they watched. I guess the Blair Witch Project can’t save me now.  Panic set in once again until she saw how beautiful Alex looked standing in front of her. Her girlfriend’s glittery lips and braces-filled smile put Olivia at ease and, once she focused on her instead of the logistics of slow dancing, Olivia finally started to enjoy herself.

She didn’t know if she had rhythm and she didn’t care because what mattered most to her was holding Alex close while some song about eternal love or maybe heartbreak－Olivia didn’t actually care－played in the background. 

Alex’s coconut body spray reminded her of every good summer memory she ever had and all of the new memories she wanted to make with her that summer. It was the first time she had held Alex that close and for that long and, as much as she enjoyed the time she pigged out on nachos and caught a foul ball at a Mets game with her uncle, she now had a new contender for the best moment of her life, but when Alex whispered in her ear ‘You’re the best girlfriend in the world,’ she knew nothing could ever compare to her first slow dance with the very first girl she would give her heart to.

[griseldagimpel]

200 Works on AO3 Check-in

A quick note before we begin: I am writing this in March of 2022. Tumblr doesn’t display dates readily, so it can be hard to tell how old a post is. If you’re seeing this in July of 2022 or later, I really don’t feel like arguing with you.

Alright. I now have 200 works on AO3, and I still haven’t been harassed by Antis for the ships I ship or for writing dark fic or what have you. I’m in dozens of fandoms, and I’ve got stuff for Sylki (from Loki series), Reylo (from the Star Wars Sequel Trilogy), and omegaverse (for Leverage), so let no one say I’m not writing anything that Antis hate. And that brings us to the question of: what’s going on here? Why haven’t I been harassed by Antis?

One possibility is that I’ve just been really, really lucky. I’m skeptical of this, but I do know that Antis harassing people is a thing that happens, so it’s a possibility. But what I think is the case is that while there are incidents of Antis harassing people, it’s less prevalent than it’s been presented to me. And if you read that sentence and think, “No, it’s just as prevalent as it’s been presented,” keep in mind that your experiences without how it’s been presented are not the same as my experiences.

Let’s look at what’s happening here. I think it’s a combination of factors.

First, both “Anti” and “Pro-shipper” are very nebulous terms, which is why I don’t at present use either of them to describe myself. Sarah Z honestly has a great (if nearly two hour long) video going into some of this, but just to hit a few points: These terms don’t distinguish between doing something in one’s own space – and I’ll get to that in my next point – vs engaging others vs harassing others. They don’t recognize that some characters (like the sleezy wizard from The Witcher) and relationships (like Firesong/An’desha from the Valdemar series) are ones that you’re not supposed to like, and that garnering intentional dislike from the audience can be a valid part of the story the author wants to tell. There’s no distinction between personally disliking something (and moving on) vs centering one’s fandom persona around that dislike. There’s no distinction between a Doylist critique (“I don’t think this was written well because ______.”) and a Watsonian critique (“I don’t like X ship because Y character did Z.”)

And if you’re reading this and thinking “No, Anti means THIS, and Pro—shipper means THAT,” no. There’s no fandoms-wide consensus on what these terms mean. I’ve been told by some people that harassing others is core to what makes someone an Anti, and seen others use Anti to refer to people who aren’t harassing others. And seen pro-shippers engage in harassment. I’m not, for the purpose of this post, going to try to impose a definition on these terms. Let’s just proceed with them in all their nebulous, ambiguous glory.

My second point is this: social media really messes up the idea of having one’s personal space and minding one’s own business. Let’s look at AO3 for a moment, since it’s run on donations and so functions differently than something like tumblr or Twitter. I put fics on AO3, I tag them appropriately, and if you don’t want to see my works, you can set up a filter that hides anything I post from you. It’s not straightforward, but it’s doable. Now let’s compare this to how tumblr and Twitter work.

You can block people on tumblr, but if someone reblogs that person, you might still see their posts. Twitter has no way of turning off reblogs short of being private, as far as I’m aware. Tumblr has no way of turning off reblogs short of being private, as far as I’m aware. Once a tumblr post has been reblogged, deleting the original won’t stop it from circulating. You can tag something so that people can filter on that tag, but recently tumblr decided that if something is tagged “Anti-X”, well, it has “X” in the tag, so therefore searching for “X” should also bring up everything tagged “Anti-X”. Even if you don’t tag your posts, someone can reblog it and tag it “X”. Twitter has promoted posts, where you see posts by people you don’t follow. Tumblr has recommended posts, where you see posts by people you don’t follow. You can’t retweet something without someone getting a notification. You can’t reblog something without someone getting a notification. You can’t have a conversation with someone on Twitter without it wanting to tag in several other people, and you might not even realize it. Social media runs on prioritizing engagement over all else, and that can make it difficult to curate one’s space and mind one’s own business.

I had a post go viral last year, and some of the people annoyed by it and who responded spoke of my comments being in their house or on their dash. But I hadn’t put my post in their house or on their dash. I’d put in on my own tumblr, where I had (and honestly still have) only a small following. But it went viral – something I had no control over – and suddenly it was being seen by people who were complete strangers to me. Think about who you are to me as you read this. Do you follow me? Do I follow you? Do we have a mutual in common? Are we utter strangers with only the most tenuous of social media connection?

Something a lot of people grumble about is people misusing tags or putting hate in the tags or what have you. But look at how tumblr is set up. The tagging system is simultaneously a way to organize your own tumblr so that you can find things later AND a shared catalogue system so that people can find posts they might enjoy. There’s no reason that tumblr has to be set up to only have a single set of tags for a post, rather than dividing tags between personal tags and community tags. But engagement engagement engagement! Gotta have that engagement.

When I see Pro-shippers and Antis alike insisting that they’re just minding their own business, well, I think they’re telling the truth and doing that – or trying to do that to the extent that social media allows.

Thirdly, I think there’s some pre-emptive defensiveness. Okay, here goes. If you like something “problematic” – and this is another broad, nebulous term that can mean everything from smut involving children to BDSM to omegaverse to alternate self ships – you are probably aware that there are people who think you’re weird for that. Even if they don’t harass you for it or even “at” you in their opinion – although see my point about personal spaces and social media above – you probably know they’re out there. Judging you.

And some people are fine with that. But other people struggle with that. Maybe they’re overly-invested in a character or ship such that even the mildest bit of anything short of 110% full throttled positivity feels like an attack on them personally. Maybe they haven’t fully processed or can’t vocalize why they like the thing they like. Or maybe another reason.

But in those cases, “Anti” becomes a useful concept. The ambiguity, the nebulousness, is the point. It collapses down nuance, so that those who are being very reasonable can be cast as the same – or at least in cohorts with – those who have the most bonkers takes or engage in the worst harassment. Anti is a term people use to describe themselves, but it’s also a term imposed upon people who wouldn’t describe themselves that way.

“Antis don’t like my writing because they can’t tell the difference between fiction and reality” sounds a lot more palpable than “People think I’m weird because I write smut about adults raping children” or “My work got criticized for using racist erotica tropes I get off on!”. Treating someone who doesn’t like alternate self ships like their dislike is equivalent to them telling you to commit self-harm means you can pretend they don’t have an argument (whether you think it’s a good argument or not), and rather than having to come up with a counter argument or decide that, you know what, you don’t feel like engaging with them – very valid – the Anti labels allows a shortcut to refute what they’re contending. And if you read this paragraph and went, “But alternate self ships aren’t remotely in the same category as eroticized child sexual assault,” yeah, that’s what I’m saying. Good points, bad points, points in one’s own space, points where they “at” you – they can all be equated with each other and then swept away by declaring them an Anti. “Anti” allow all objections and criticisms to just be lumped together and then dismissed.

In conclusion, if I can ask for anything from fandom, may I ask for nuance and restraint and perhaps a bit of reading comprehension?

[seomisaho]

TW: r*pe, sa, sh

Okay so I've never actually posted anything on here but this is something really important to me and many individuals in my country. I don't have a large following nor many friends on this app so if you see this then I'm begging you to take a few minutes to read it and atleast like or rb it to help spread awareness.

Rape, sexual assault and sexual harassment have become so prevalent and normalised over the years in Malaysia that it's taken a toll on the younger generations who have done nothing to deserve it (not that anybody deserves to have such foul things done to them but for the sake of speech, i've written as such).

Recently a schoolgirl by the tiktok/insta/twt handle of @ant33eater came out with a tiktok exposing her physical education teacher for making jokes about rape and sexual abuse, quoting how he said "so nanti korang nak rogol, jangan la rogol yang bawah 18, rogol la yang atas 18" which (minus the slang) roughly translates to "so if you want to rape someone, rape someone that's over 18. Don't bother raping someone that's under 18", insinuating that raping someone underage will only cause more trouble for the perpetrator in terms of legalaties, so they shouldn't waste their time there and instead should just go for someone that's of legal age since they have less legal protection going for them.

In return she has gotten massive amounts of support from schoolchildren across the country and just anybody who has their own story to tell, but in return she's also gotten an overwhelming amount of hate directed towards her from people in the mindset that she's doing all this "just for attention", some disgusting people even going so far as to threaten to rape her for continuing to speak out on this topic.

So far the government has done fuck all to help, people in power either dismissing her and everybody else's claims or brushing them off as people being "too sensitive".

In addition, other stories have been comin out about how schools force girls to "prove they're on their periods" during ramadan by showing teachers their bloodied pads or peeing on the floor of the bathroom stalls and using the bidet/water hose to "usher the blood out under the door" for the teacher to see. In case you don't know, girls can't fast when they're on their periods due to religious beliefs so this is the schools' way of "fact-checking" their claims of being on their period. Obviously this is a huge invasion of privacy that is just utterly disgusting and demoralising, but unfortunately it's something that many girls have had to deal with.

And the government's response? Going and ASKING SCHOOLS which of them have done these procedures and encouraging students to call out their schools in order for them to know which ones to ASK. Not check, not investigate, but just ASK about their actions. Any person with common sense would know that since these acts have already been circulating on the news, any school that does them would definitely not own up to it, but when have the government really used their brains to make impactful decisions?

Her story and all the ones coming out subsequently are a product of years and years of misogyny and corruption, and it's way past time that it should have been stopped.

If you could just take the time to sign the petition that would be soso helpful and meaningful for us to get the help and support that we need. Even once the petition has ended and we've exceeded the number of signatures needed, our fight will be long from over. I can't ask for much, especially on a platform where my voice is just one lost in a sea of dozens, but this is the biggest and most important wish I could ever ask to be granted on here. Please, for the sake of our schoolchildren's safety and the safety of girls all across Malaysia, please help us. Like, reblog, keep up with the hashtag #MakeSchoolASaferPlace on instagram and twt and help us put more pressure on the Malaysian government to get their heads on straight after all these years and actually help us. Thank you.

[alchemist-shizun]

Seirios

Read on Ao3!

Check out the wonderful artwork by @jajathelivingmeme !! She’s a delight and a talented friend 💜

Word Count: 22,331

Characters: Roman, Virgil, Deceit, Remus, Logan, Patton, Emile, Remy, Thomas

Pairing(s): Prinxiety, Loceit, Remile

Warning(s): minor character death and death mentions, implied bad parenting (minor), slight violence, not physical, unrequited romance, kissing, crying, panic attack, ptsd, blood, face and eye injury, scar mention, knives mention, hospital mention, very slight gore (just in an emotional description), insomnia mention, Passing out, apparent major characters death (tell me if I missed anything!)

Summary: It's hard for kids to fall asleep. It's especially hard for Remus when he can't help but stare at the night sky, mesmerized. That's why his guardian and uncle Janus decided to tell him a bed time story about two stars' lives and adventures along with the Sun and the Moon. Janus surely didn't expect for the storytelling to lead them to meet the local astronomer, Logan, not to mention develop a stronger bond with him. The best bit? All of his stories were true. Meet Janus Hydra, a fallen shooting star become human, and come listen to the events he witnessed while in space.

A/N: This is my entry for @ts-storytime ! A big thank you to @i-am-overly-complicated for the moral support and some suggestions, and to @crazydemigod666 for beta reading the fic, love ya bud. I worked super hard on this, I hope you all enjoy! Taglist will be added in a reblog.

✾

❝ It's you, it's you, it's all for you,

Everything I do.

I tell you all the time,

Heaven is a place on earth with you. ❞

He knew nothing of the sky.

He would look out of the window at night and glance up at the starry empyrean, wondering how it was possible that his mother had been part of those celestial entities.

And maybe, now that she was gone, he hoped she was part of them again, the stardust she had left behind now scattered across the universe.

« Remus? » his uncle Janus knocked on the door to his room and peeked inside. « Ready to settle down for the night? »

The kid sighed and stepped away from the window he was resting his arms and head on; sleeping was the part of the day he hated the most, there were so many things awaiting him, ideas in his head he wanted to get out in the real world, how could he simply lay dead doing absolutely nothing for eight hours straight?

Resting was too boring and Remus could think of more than a few things to do in its place.

Janus took a couple of steps in his nephew's direction and held out a hand to him like he was doing a grand gesture.

« Is the little duke in the mood for his sleeping duty? »

« Don't think so. » Remus shrugged and glanced at his bed with disinterest.

He pretended he didn't notice his uncle's small sigh and that expression that always seemed to show veiled compassion whenever the kid wouldn't comply.

Janus thought that Remus was a wonderful child, probably the strongest one he'd ever met, there was nothing he was not grateful for when it came to him: only a couple of years had passed from Angy's death, along with his father leaving him behind right after, and there wasn't a day in which he had let himself feel defeated.

After all, Janus had realized that he was the one to really need the other during that period.

Yet there was that one little detail Remus couldn't get himself behind, which was the need to lie your body down and prepare yourself for the following day. He could struggle all he wanted, but there was no way for either of them to find a solution.

Until Janus posed that fateful question in his mind: what would Angy do in this situation?

He raised his eyebrows as the best option surfaced.

Remus watched him tap his finger on his chin, looking around the room for a seat until he brought one in himself, placing it next to the bed the eight-year-old was now sitting on.

Anguis Hydra had been a shooting star in the sky and a writer on Earth when she fell along with her brother, and if there was something her brother knew best was that the finest solution to any problem she had found was storytelling.

Her readers had given her the nickname of “Angst Hydra”, for how much pain they felt thanks to her books.

Little did they know the stories were real: stories based off of other stars encounters they had had during their travels, her memory her sharpest tool.

« Did Angy ever tell you about the most luminous star you can see from the Earth's sky? »

Janus saw Remus's little eyebrows furrow, sign of a notion that was new to him. He brought his legs to his chest as he leaned on his pillow.

« It's actually a binary system, which is composed of two stars orbiting around each other. »

« Is it the … Sirius system? » Remus seemed to recall, his eyes narrowed in uncertainty.

Janus nodded. « Good job. So, all earthlings know about them is astronomical details, the usual research stuff, right? »

The kid made an agreement noise, curious to where that was gonna land.

« They call them Sirius A and B, but as you may expect there's a lot more into it. » he leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper. « Your mum and I had the occasion to meet them and witness their life events. » he could already notice the excitement growing in Remus's eyes. « So, want to listen to their fairytale? »

« Will there be chaos? »

« You have no idea. » both of them grinned as the kid settled in the only right way he knew: wrapping himself up in a blanket burrito and using his pillow as a seat.

« I'm ready! »

« Keep in mind that it's a long story, so we won't be able to cover all of it tonight, alright? »

Remus nodded despite defeated; Janus, on the other hand, knew that if he managed to get him hooked on the tale, he could have made his nephew look forward to bedtime and made things relatively easier.

A win-win situation.

The man turned off the room's lights only to switch on the bedside lamp with green LEDs.

« Alright little duke. » he moved in a comfortable position. « It's time for you to learn of the dance of the stars during the sunset, the moment the sun and the moon meet to leave each other's place to one another. »

Remus had never heard of such a thing, it was a simple tradition his mother and his uncle never took part of as their star selves happened to be constantly moving around with no time for grand events.

« But let's start from the beginning: let me introduce you to our beloved protagonists. »

✾✾✾✾

There were two notions stars were born with: the concept of the moon and the one of the sun.

They were aware there were multiple ones depending on which solar system they were close to, which planet they were taking into account.

But if there was a third piece of knowledge Virgil was certain of, it was that ever since he'd seen him from his little spot, he had been in love with the sun.

Such a titanic star shielding his own much smaller one.

When he was little, he'd look up at the sun and find a hero, a role model he had always been eager to follow: now, whenever he did that, he longed for contact and the revelation of his gorgeous self he wasn't yet able to meet from afar.

Casual passerby stars or nebulae narrated their encounters with the sun, encounters of which Virgil only grew jealous.

His admiration could only grow as much as he couldn't even fathom the grandiosity of those meetings, as he still wondered what was the intensity with which the sun's eyes glowed, the warmth of his protection and his benevolence.

« You want me to tell you about Emile, little one? » Patton was one of those nebulae that had been already circulating for a while and were old enough to attend a very important event that a myriad of stars took part in.

He hadn't quite realized why Virgil was so eager to meet the sun, but hadn't questioned it once since he'd met him.

« Well there are quite a few tales I can tell you about him! »

And so he did and Virgil found himself hanging onto every single word that escaped the other's mouth.

The little star could do nothing but wait for more stories as he grew along the space around him, hoping that maybe one day his orbit would find him.

Everything was going to change once he'd reached stability and joined the

Sunset's Ball.

✾✾✾✾

« The what? » Remus's sleepy eyes questioned Janus.

« One thing at a time, Rem. » the adult brushed some locks from Remus's forehead. « I'll get there later. But first, there's someone else you need to acknowledge. »

✾✾✾✾

Roman had always been aware of his star title: Sirius A. Thanks to that, he had also always known how he was part of a binary system.

Ever since then, he had been more than eager to meet the other star of his system, dreaming of one day finally finding a friend in them, like he had found in Patton, who would always bring news of Virgil.

He had learnt his name thanks to the nebula and mentioned it in his thoughts and conversations like he was a lifelong friend.

Roman's star was bigger and brighter than Sirius B, greatly shielding its vision.

He felt lonely during his growth and stabilization, anyone would have been intimidated by his star dimensions, therefore the visits paid to him were far less than the ones reserved for Virgil.

Yet he would spend his days trying to get someone's attention and, eventually, he'd stop to look down at the other star and wonder when their meeting would come.

Would it come at all?

Star dances were commonly known, but many happened during the day, so one wouldn't be sure of who they were going to end up with until their very first Ball.

That type of dance was the only one performed by stars, it occurred daily and it was a celebration of either sunset or sunrise, the moments in which the Sun and the Moon met and exchanged greetings, only to swap places with each other.

Only the most important stars could participate, once  stability was reached and they were certain that they would've caused no harm to others: the floating palace in which they took place had been the same for millennia and not a single wrong move had been done to endanger it, it had now become a pillar in their history.

Reaching that place was kind of a rite of passage for the stars and proof of respectability for Roman since, compared to the Sun, he and some other stars were far bigger.

Yet, humans had praised the Moon and his partner as actual gods in various religions and cultures, along with other planets they had acknowledged.

So the bigger celestial objects resonated that their importance still varied and wasn't related to how they presented, but rather to who they were, thus they learnt to stand their ground.

And even so, Roman's true goal had always been a different one.

He was going to meet Virgil, one way or another.

✾✾✾✾

Remus's head hit his uncle's arm lightly, a tiny bump against Janus's sleeve; the man took a break from his storytelling after noticing that the boy's eyes were closed, having finally resigned to the heaviness of sleep, smiled to himself and tucked his nephew in bed.

He followed his nightly routine as well which consisted of watching tv until he passed out and woke up way too early for his schedule, only to go back to sleep in his room for a couple more hours.

If only that night had gone exactly like that.

Janus had touched his mattress at around the same indecent time he did normally and fallen asleep minutes after.

Flashes happened and now hands were on his face, twisted and disappeared, turning into a pair of green eyes that were looking fondly at another woman. They laughed and held hands and he had a knot in his stomach as he hugged him a little too tightly. And Janus was breathing, then not, then sobbing, then he knew her happiness came first because the world was so cruel to him. Then Janus smiled, then he didn't, he held his breath as she stopped altogether and then the green-eyed man left. And he?

He woke up.

Barely three hours had passed and he was already sitting up, hugging himself and resting his face on his knees, his expression contorted in a multitude of unpleasantries.

That was not possible.

He was over that, he was over him, there was no need for his subconscious to resurface the majority of his life's regrets so far.

There was definitely no need to remember, to say the least.

What he was gonna do now was going back to sleep and never think about that dream ever again.

Of course, he actually laid awake to stare at the ceiling blankly until his alarm went off, which he turned off automatically, solely moving his arm.

He had looked into the mirror once he had gotten to his bathroom and forced a smile on, but the usual sparkles stars emanated when happy didn't surround his skin.

When he had gotten Remus to school, the kid had pointed out how darker his eye-bags had become lately.

« Can I get matching ones? »

« No, lil duke, better not. » you're gonna end up like this eventually as an adult.

Janus was sick of the constant pitiful glances he got from his co-workers when he had a bad day, the whispers they passed between each other, the fake respectability they kept when he was in a low mood.

None of them personally knew Janus on a close level.

So, as he thought, none of them could have felt entitled to initiate a conversation on a low-key personal topic.

Yet, there a man was, sliding a card on his desk.

« He's a good therapist, I've heard. If you … you know, have any troubles or if your nephew- »

Not even a glance at the name and Janus's insides were revolting. « We don't need it. » a tight-lipped smile set on his face. « Thank you anyway. »

The man almost ran away at that, embarrassed and frantically looking back at his own work position.

Janus took the card in his hands.

Those same innocent and achingly beautiful green eyes stared back at him; Clyde Davis had been his brother in law for as long as Anguis had been alive, once on Earth.

He didn't mean for his memories to overcome him yet again, but here he was, almost blinded near the day of the death's anniversary.

His eyes fixated on the nothingness right above the floor as thoughts flew by his mind: Angy and him had just fallen on Earth, somehow adjusting to the humans' costumes in no time.

They had some slip-ups when it came to ethics and morality, that was why when it came to the realization of feelings the two brothers had different experiences.

Who would've thought humans were so idiotic to banish certain natural forms of love such as the ones not stereotypically between a man and a woman? (the issues on gender identity and sex were also introduced to them on that planet, as stars lacked the concept despite their anthropomorphic forms)

Who would've thought Janus had to find out from the news right after realizing he had gotten a crush for the same man his sister had fallen in love with?

Sure, it was easier to let her happiness come first that way, but it didn't mean his feelings were hurting any less.

If anything, he was constantly mixing joy and guilt, some sort of bittersweet ending that didn't sit right with his emotions, but it did with his conscience.

Wrong wasn't how he felt at Anguis and Clyde's wedding, but maybe more relieved as he was sure that way his love could've dissipated.

At least he hoped so, especially since he was going to live alone from then on.

He thought distance had worked, but then Remus happened and he visited more often than ever, especially since the boy resembles the two people he loved the most.

The circumstances didn't help him, but he had learnt to disguise how he felt better.

Janus thought nothing could've shattered that nice picture.

And then Anguis fell ill.

Some kind of immunodeficiency, a state that saw her body shut down as a star that slowly died and stopped lighting up the night sky.

He had seen her eyes turn black, he had known all along what it meant, but he did not want to accept it. Only deny it to himself as he was now living at her place, helping out when he could.

When the fatal day occurred, Janus, Clyde and Remus were standing by her as her skin got almost colder than the bed she was in.

It hadn't sparkled in too long.

She knew what was going on, she had intimated them to say goodbye as much as they didn't want to; she looked unfairly defeated.

As the time struck, her body stiffened and everything left of her was stardust that emanated its final glow.

Janus's memory had blocked out everything that came after, especially the funeral.

Of course, he couldn't have forgotten the day Clyde came to him, his eyes now dull and distant, He wanted to leave, start a new life and leave behind everything else because he could not bear to look at Remus or him and be reminded of Anguis.

Clyde asked him to take Remus's custody and for the first time Janus had wanted to punch his face rather than kiss him.

But he had instead accepted, not out of empathy, but because he had become so lost that he wasn't sure his reality was so truthful anymore.

Remus had been a blessing, saving him from negativity more than he could with himself. He was a wonder, that kid.

Janus had zoned out for so long that he came back to Earth only as he was sitting on an armchair at home, while his nephew played with some toys right behind him.

« Hey. Did you know you're a wonderful kid? »

« I thought that was obvious. Also, gross, I'd rather be called stinky! » he hadn't even looked up from his creation.

Janus snorted. « Of course. » he made to get up and make dinner.

Later in the evening, Remus had climbed onto the counter and stared at Janus, who was leaning against the furniture while drinking some warm tea.

« I'm going to the astronomy museum tomorrow! »

« I know. »

« Don't you think it's time for a story then? »

The man giggled. « Are you bribing me? »

« You've been brooding all day, uncle! » he jumped back down, and hugged his waist only to pull him out of the kitchen.

Janus did his best not to stumble. « Alright, alright, we need some time-out time. » he picked his nephew up and in a minute they were settled for their storytelling.

« So- »

« Did dad show up? »

He fell silent, baffled by the sudden question. He gave Remus a puzzled look.

« You always act absent when something related to him happens. » the kid explained.

Who gave an eight-year-old the right to be that smart?

Janus opened and closed his mouth several times. « Well- Not exactly. » he scratched the back of his neck. « They talked about him. I think I might have gotten … triggered? » he wasn't sure whether or not that was the right term to use. But he did feel numb for the majority of the day, despite the flashbacks.

« Well, fuck him. »

« Rem- »

« No, fuck that guy. » Remus raised his voice more, but Janus didn't find it in himself to stop him. « he just dropped his burdens on you and left like a coward! Fuck that bullshit! » his face was red with anger.

« I know. But dear, you're not a burden. »

« I don't even care if I am for him. »

« Let me finish. » Janus used the calmest tone possible to balance out the other's upset. « As much as you don't agree with what he's done, you have to remember everyone's got their own way to cope. »

He sighed, eyes fixed to the floor. « In his case, he could've probably been a bad parent for you and decided to trust you with me rather than himself. He knows I love you just as much, so he wanted you to be in a certainly safe environment. »

Remus wasn't still entirely convinced.

« The thing is, he feared not being able to raise you the way you deserve. You still have all the right to be angry at him, of course. But you need to know that you didn't do anything bad for this all to happen, okay? »

The kid bit the inside of his mouth. « Yeah, I know. You've told me plenty of times. »

« Repetita iuvant. And honestly you've been of help more than he would imagine, so … yeah fuck him. »

The duo snickered and gave each other a matching mischievous glance.

« But seriously, no swearing like a sailor until you're older, okay? At least not in front of other adults, you know how they get easily impressed. »

« Ugh, they never let me do anything fun. »

« Capitalism. »

« What? »

« Nothing, let's carry on with the story. Tonight, Virgil and Roman are going to finally meet. »

✾✾✾✾

Roman was ecstatic.

He had been accompanied by Patton and they had now made their entrance in the ballroom.

The space looked fancy and highly decorated, white, gold and blue themes coloured every object, glistening with a bit of purple here and there. It felt like being in the gods' lair, high columns sustained a roof for a space much bigger than its guests.

A pompous environment that suggested any trait related to space and stars.

Everyone was dressed up for the occasion, he felt like he was in the middle of one of those royal dances humans had to entertain themselves.

They all had a mask covering part of their face; it was a way of respecting the Sun and Moon as they had yet to arrive and would wear it as well until they took it off alongside everyone.

Clothes and masks were pretty much the same for everyone, changing based on the type of star you were, only the colours changed for everybody.

Roman was wearing crimson items; they often recalled the color of a star's eyes, like his case.

« Feeling nervous? » Patton was leading him toward their designated spot, he had previously offered his arm to Roman after showing off his sky-blue outfit.

« Kind of. Don't wanna mess up. But also what if they're not here? » Roman was already pulling at the hem of his sleeve.

« I'm sure they are. Normally binary systems are put together. I'll help you search! » Patton gave a warming smile that ushered the other not to worry too much.

« Should I go find a dance partner? » there was literally no etiquette to follow until the two main protagonists arrived.

The nebula noticed the initial discomfort in him. « That, or you can stay with me for now. »

Roman was about to reply in gratitude when he saw everyone move to the centre of the room, where he got by taking Patton's hand.

Alright, here we go.

The first part of the dance had the stars already dancing around the room while waiting; none told Roman there would have been partner changes.

He and Patton had just turned, their backs facing, when suddenly his hand touched another one and there he was spinning slowly with a stranger.

Roman had a pair of purple irises fixed in his own, on a stoic face they were decorating, his head slightly tilted.

« Hi. » he had tried, but he only saw the star's eyes look down, ignoring his greeting.

That made Roman feel defeated, little did he know the stranger's goal was another and that he couldn't lose time on uneventful conversation.

One of each star's hand was intertwined with the others'.

Should have Roman been stoic as well? Could they talk during the event? Was he being judged by the other guy?

Still, after seemingly searching into Roman for some sort of hint, the other star kept looking behind his shoulders, especially on the front door, which was decorated with complicated bass-relief motives.

Was he more interested into the room's details than meeting new people?

Roman glanced around for clues and his eyes met smiling and chatting couples, giving him the impression that he had been doing something wrong.

Until he met Patton's look again and he noticed the signals he was giving him.

“It's him”, his lips mouthed and it finally hit Roman when Patton motioned towards the other with his eyes.

Roman blinked in bewilderment and turned back to his partner only to see him let go of his hand, his back already facing him, without a single chance for him to speak some last words.

His focus shifted again when a different light glowed into the room, he heard the door starting to open and everyone was pushed at both opposite sides of the room.

A path was now created, like a little temporary corridor.

Finally, from either door, two figures started walking down the path, making it very clear on their identity: the Sun and Moon had made their entrance.

Gold and silver shining like they were the only things in existence, the two met halfway and joined hands, making the whole audience restart their own dance.

Roman's companion had changed and it was now a lady part of a system, her name was Zeta, but he couldn't help but think back at how close he had been to his discovery.

Everytime he caught a glimpse of him, he lost it, happening so often that Roman had been closer to interact with the Moon instead.

Patton had told him his name was Remy, while the Sun's was Emile and they were part of a particular solar system which contained planets such as Jupiter, Mars, or his favourite, Saturn.

He had also been told there were rumors behind the two's different clothing; Emile was rumored to wear gloves so he could protect others from his burning touch, while Remy was never seen without his sunglasses, probably because he would have gone severely injured if he had directly looked at the Sun.

Busying himself with the search for his system's second star, he almost didn't notice it when people started scattering and some went back to chatting.

Emile and Remy took off their masks alongside everyone and respectively put on glasses and sunglasses.

« Hey there! »

Roman turned. « Holy stars, Patton! I can't believe I almost had him. »

« Well, at least you know he's here now, right? » the nebula started looking around from his spot to search for Virgil again.

« Yeah, I hope it'll be easier to- »

« Found him. » Patton pointed at a few feet next to them, where their object of interest was sitting, attentively staring at something or someone.

Roman felt something in his chest click as soon as he was able to see his face clearly: he didn't know how to describe it, but he loved and absolutely loathed it at the same time.

He realized he had been holding his breath only after he deeply exhaled, making Patton raise an eyebrow.

« Are you going to say hello, or …? »

That was not ideal.

That was actually utterly terrible, how he felt drawn to the other and yet terrified at the same time, the intensity making it a seemingly impossible goal.

Despite the other being the infinitely smaller star, Roman was in awe, like he couldn't compare to him in any sort of way; the aura he gave off was too strong, so much that he seemed to know the secrets of the universe before anyone else.

Roman couldn't explain it, but he had to talk to him or else he would've probably combusted.

What had gotten into him? Did the realization of actually having the possibility of making friends with the other half of his binary system just hit him? … Would the other really agree to such a friendship?

He was afraid to answer that. They barely knew each other, anyway.

Roman started approaching him and felt his legs as heavy as lead, his tongue tied and all the conversations that he had prepared basically gone from his mind.

So many years of longing for this meeting only for it to go into shambles.

Yet, there he was, at last standing next to him.

« Greetings, the name's Roman. » he achieved a single apparently annoyed glance. He looked still … in search of something. « I was wondering whether you were the star entitled as Sirius B. »

Roman finally got a reaction out of him, a slick turn of the head in an impressed expression. « How would you know that? »

Roman grinned and moved one hand from behind his back. « Well, you see, » he started, theatrically bowing down just that necessary to still look him in the eyes. « It just so happens that I am Sirius A. »

✾✾✾✾

Janus was mimicking Roman's gesture as Remus watched in awe.

« Who knows what Virgil will say? »

« Hold it- What do you mean? » Remus sluggishly said with his cheek pressed against the pillow.

« I mean that it's late and you should rest before your little school trip, alright? »

The kid didn't look very convinced.

Janus tried again. « Also, I'm going to give you a mission for tomorrow. »

Remus's eyes lit up again. « What is it? »

« You're going to have to find the stars I've been telling you about. There's going to be a dark room full of projections; it's gonna be fun. »

His nephew let out a “Ooh” of understanding and admiration, already picturing what it could have looked like.

« Come on now, » Janus helped him set into bed and kissed his forehead, at which, like any other night, Remus commented with a “gross” and wiped at his skin.

It was their little routine before Janus himself started preparing for the night.

He was pacing around the living room when he could have sworn he had heard something moving right outside of his apartment's door; he stood there for a second, simply staring at the doorknob, expecting it to twist at any second.

Nothing came through and thus he went to sleep.

He really needed a relaxing bath first.

Janus knew something had been off as soon as he had woken up; the uneasiness from the night before still lingered, pressing down on his stomach.

He could not deal with this.

It was six a.m. again and he was staring at the cupboard in the bathroom.

No, it was fine. He was fine, he could do it on his own.

He breathed deeply and exited the room only to find a perky Remus already up and excited for his trip.

The kid smiled up at him. « Is breakfast ready yet? »

Janus forgot all about how he had woken up.

Merely an hour and a half later, Remus had been dropped off at the school bus after making sure he had everything he needed and that he was under the supervision of all the class' teachers.

He was still going up the stairs of the condominium, when he noticed a figure fidgeting and standing by his door.

Brown curls, green eyes and still impossibly gorgeous.

Janus's stomach did a triple flip and he didn't know if it was for delight or bitterness. Of course, his mind blanked as soon as Clyde acknowledged him.

« Hey, J. » the tone was unsure.

None had been allowed to call him that in years.

« It's been a while … »

« Indeed. » he responded sternly, almost petrified as he waited for the other to state the reason for his visit.

« Uhm, I … needed to get a thing I left here. »

« Here. »

« Yeah. »

Clyde was trying his best not to make everything awkward, but Janus was making it godawfully impossible.

The star didn't talk any further and simply turned the keys to unlock the door, stepping in and aside to let the other enter.

« Get what you need and leave. » he didn't make eye contact, or else he would have been fucked.

A distraction.

Janus went into the kitchen, busying himself with getting things ready for lunch, while Clyde headed for Remus's room; there was a photo album he needed to get after all, there was no way Remus would have wanted to keep pictures of a dad that had given up on him.

He picked up the album and turned the first couple of pages. Then more and more.

Remus had cut out Clyde's face from any picture in which he had appeared.

It was a hit to his heart, a well deserved one, but a hit nonetheless; he put the album back and headed for the door, but something pulled him back to Janus.

The star eyed him warily.

« Did you get it? »

« Not really, but- I figured it doesn't matter anymore. »

Janus made an uninterested noise without looking back up at him.

« If there's anything- »

« We don't need your help. »

Clyde's eyes fell to the floor, but he insisted and came closer to the other, standing at his side.

« I know it's kind of hypocritical but were you to find yourself in a difficult situation- »

« Hypocritical? » Janus scoffed, finally turning to him and glaring at him.

He wanted to drown.

« The only time my situation becomes difficult is when you are around. » he could feel his insides heating up.

« Listen I know you hate me now- »

Oh, was that guilt tripping? That was guilt tripping.

« That's the issue. Everytime I see you, I get reminded of the fact that I just … I don't actually hate you and it sucks, so please leave. » he felt like he was on the verge of either tears or a crisis out of exasperation.

« Janus … » Clyde dared to lift a hand as the other tried to focus back on cooking.

« Don't touch me. »

« Listen. » the man took Janus's wrist anyway with the sole purpose of trying to put some sense into him.

Janus tried to wiggle free from his grip. « I said- » until … « Ugh! » he did.

But his hand had jerked back right onto his cheek, causing the knife he was holding to leave a deep cut through his eye and cheek.

He dropped everything and held his head as a luminous substance flowed out of his cut.

Star's blood.

« Oh my- Oh god, I- »

« Get out! » he yelled one last time and could only hear Clyde's steps as he hurried away from him.

Now there was something interesting about stars: they had a really peculiar way of healing, so much that hospitals wouldn't understand their ways. So Janus ought to help himself.

He quickly washed the blood out of his hands and ran into his room before he could pass out, closed the windows and turned every light off.

By memory he found the little box he had hidden in the bedside table, a secret drawer.

He opened it and a blinding light illuminated the room. That was the light that belonged to him as a star; once you disguise yourself as a human you get to keep it in case of emergencies.

Janus felt heat coming back to his body and pain retreating from his brain.

When he closed it everything felt normal again, despite the tiredness from what had just happened.

Then he looked in the mirror.

A terrible scar ran from above his eyebrow, down his eye and onto his cheek, still so fresh and yet … It looked like a childhood one. And he could still perfectly see.

He didn't want to deal with that right then: he went back to work on his meal and decided on a relaxation day as he didn't have work and really needed a rest.

All he wanted to do was scream and probably cry, but he decided on staring at the ceiling from the living room's couch.

By the time he woke up, he had to go pick up Remus from the school trip, which now required him to put on concealer on his face.

His nephew didn't mention anything about it around others.

But he wasn't certainly stupid.

Once in the car, he spoke up. « What happened to your face? »

« Can't a man wear make-up? »

« Yes, but you've never done It before. And you're not in love so there's none to make yourself pretty for. »

« Ouch, now I'm not pretty? » Janus chuckled.

Remus pointed a finger at him. « You're insecure! »

When will children stop being so brutally honest?

Once home, Janus went straight for the bathroom to wipe the concealer away. « You see, little duke, » he called from there. « Sometimes you don't want to explain things. Sometimes you can't. » he then went back to him and showed his scar.

« What happened? »

« An accident. I recovered quickly with some remaining starry powers. »

The kid seemed to accept it, despite being skeptical.

« Can I get one too? I want to be like a dragon! »

« Dragons don't have scars, kid. » Janus tilted his head.

« They do! It's written in books, they have them all over their bodies. »

« Sweetie, those are scales. »

Remus considered for a second, his eyes fixated on a random spot.

« Uncle, I think my life is a lie. »

Janus finally laughed for real and they decided to leave the corridor for the more important conversation to happen in the living room; the kid started going on about the astronomy museum and all its wonders.

« And then there was that big constellations projector like you mentioned and it was beautiful. » Remus mimicked how he would've showed him in the room, as if the projections were in their apartment. « The scientist knew everything about them, he answered every question, uncle Jee I want to go back! »

Janus smiled the entire time, especially at how his nephew was now looking at him with literal sparkles in his eyes.

« Your birthday is around, isn't it? We could go back then. »

The kid started jumping around in excitement. « I want to visit everyday! I could sell lemonade like they do in cartoons and pay my ticket everyday! »

He giggled, while Remus kept coming up with different ways to assist himself. « I don't think that's likely, but we could visit often if that's what you'd like. »

« But Logan … » the other murmured sadly. « The star man ... »

Janus theatrically scoffed. « Excuse you, am I not enough of a star human myself? »

Remus stuck his tongue out at him and started running around the room only to flee from his uncle's vision in order for him to try and chase him; Janus sighed in a “not this again” manner and walked towards his general direction.

The scar had already been long forgotten.

✾✾✾✾

After days of non stop talking about that one astronomer and the museum, Remus's birthday finally came around.

It didn't seem such a peculiar or important day for that same one astronomer the kid kept talking about, the intelligent and cool one that he wanted to celebrate with.

Logan was walking up the stairs to the museum, his beloved workplace he wouldn't have traded for any kind of amount of gold.

Thankfully, its location had been accessible to a great number of tourists and curious citizens ever since it had been founded, so that every worker could be easily secured in their position.

He waved at his colleagues as he headed to his little office where he often stayed late to do research along side other devoted astronomers; his afternoon shift was about to start, right on time to run through a couple of papers of the previous night before meeting his first group of the day.

Being a tour guide around a museum whilst assisting in astronomy research all the while had its perks and downsides.

Mostly for Logan, it was his insatiable need to let every single thought that ran in his mind directly out for others to hear and obtain as information. It had always been hard as a teenager, especially during high-school.

It wasn't that he studied irregularly – well, maybe sometimes – but he, unlike the majority of his classmates, had to do extra work on training his speech method. The bits of info that stuck to his head while he studied were far too many and growing with each passing test, which made it harder to form connected sentences.

Talking was even worse than writing, he had no time to re-formulate what he had said a minute earlier, he couldn't go back to check what was his initial point, making his oral tests a complete mess.

Despite this, knowing what he wanted to do in his life in the long run, he kept practicing, finding great treasure in info-dumping people about his special interests.

Getting to discuss this kind of matter with university colleagues was a far better help than feeling like you were talking to a wall when your interlocutor kept nodding and smiling, clearly ignorant of whatever you were talking about.

It had also helped to understand how exactly you should modulate your speech depending on the audience, making it all a perfect experience for a soon-to-be guide.

Logan left the room and finally met his momentary students, ready to prepare their minds for the bliss of knowledge.

He briefly glanced through them, multiple people all different from one another, proving the world that education could be for anybody; he moved through different topics with ease, basically dancing between different rooms as he caught glimpses of other interested visitors, such as curious middle schoolers, or a man with bright yellow gloves talking softly to a small excited kid next to him.

It was his place, he felt at home, that strange and rare belonging sentiment.

The satisfaction of leaving the last group of people whose minds wandered in the deepest parts of space, now devoid of questions.

Who he didn't expect to still be wandering around the various exhibits hours after their entrance was that same man with yellow gloves and … supposedly his kid?

Logan leaned on the wall of the room's entrance, still out of sight, trying to catch what kind of conversation might have kept them around for so long.

Not much to his surprise, he heard the man talk of stars with an impressive accuracy, pointing up at the big white and blue projector.

It felt like he had met them personally and conversed with them.

He found himself smiling involuntary as he recognized his own enthusiasm in the boy.

And then …

« It's almost closing time, so, are you ready to hear what Virgil had to say? »

Remus's eyes lit up impossibly more and yelled a convinced “yeah!” before sitting on his uncle's lap and pointing up towards the binary-star Sirius.

« There. »

… he was brought elsewhere.

✾✾✾✾

Virgil always thought they'd have looked the same.

Either some sort of twins or really similar, differently aged bodies, something as weird as that.

Now a gleaming figure stood before him, completely different from how he had imagined him, so much that he almost distrusted that information.

« Patton told me about you. » Roman added later, as if he had just read his mind.

After the initial awkwardness, noticing the blunt disinterest, he tried again.

« So, what would be the name of my system companion? »

The other star raised an eyebrow at the unusual title and looked away before he could respond, making his answer muffled by the music echoing in the room.

« Virgil. »

« Well then, a pleasure being your friend then, Virgil. »

That finally got a reaction out of him, as the smaller star snorted sarcastically. « I don't really think meeting one time is what it takes to be someone's friend, Roman. »

He laughed lightly. « My apologies, I don't actually know how it works, » still with a smile on, he looked down. « I don't really have friends. »

And there it was, something Roman had never seen before, but that he could've caught on Patton's expression sometimes, briefly.

The pitiful glance he would've learnt to recognize.

« Oh. » was all Virgil mustered to say. He had never faced that kind of situation.

« It's the big and terrifying thing, or some envy of sorts, I'm not sure … But I still have Patton! » Roman concluded, bright as before. « And it's also why I've been eager to meet you since I got to know about you. »

Virgil tilted his head as he quickly glanced between him and the dancing couples.

« Did he tell you about me? »

« A little. He wanted it to be more of a surprise for both of us, he was as excited as I was! »

Unlike you, it seems.

Roman frowned and brushed off the clear indifference of the other, instead trying to find common ground.

« Would you like to dance? »

Virgil finally looked at him properly, but it was as though he was trying to make a tough choice, whether that was a useful option to his goal, the same way he did the first time they met. His hand moved and almost reached Roman's, but hesitation got the best of him, his eyebrows furrowed, arm almost shaking.

Roman didn't understand; what was the issue? They had danced earlier. What was so different about it now?

« I- »

They were interrupted by a swarm of people coming their way, clearing up a path for the Sun and Moon to return back to their respective places, outside of the palace.

Which meant it was time for everyone to part ways.

« … I will go. »

And just like that, he was gone.

Roman repeated the events in his mind once he got back, immediately requesting Patton's presence. Just what in the planets had he just witnessed? There was nothing of the sweetness he'd fantasized about, nothing about introducing each other like old friends, nothing of that electric buzz in your chest, the one that makes you so sure that you do belong exactly where you are.

All he felt was dread, awkwardness and uncomfortable silence, loss of words. Stupidity.

That's what he was, so ingenuous to think both of them would've been happy to find each other at last.

Had Virgil ever even cared about all of this? Did Roman simply impose his dreams on the other?

« So that I'm sure I did not hallucinate, » the star huffed, an arm over his eyes as he laid down. « I did meet him. »

« That you did. » Patton said, sounding more certain than Roman himself.

« And … »

« And? »

« It sucked. » he got up. « We barely even talked! My mind was racing and going blank from agitation and he didn't even try to interact with me, Patton. He obviously doesn't want to be my friend! He definitely thinks I'm annoying at this rate. »

« Hey there, little sparkle, slow down with the all too quick affirmations now. » Patton's form outside of the palace made him almost look like he had wings for arms. « You see, we're not all the same. You met me, and I'm very energetic and mostly aligning with your extravagant character- »

« You think I'm extravagant? » Roman let in some fake disbelief.

Patton chuckled. « In the best way possible! What I mean is, it's easy for us to get along, but Virgil is pretty much the opposite of you, which makes it a bit difficult to immediately get along. You only need to give it some more time. »

The binary-star did feel reassured with his words.

Not completely, though they made sense, yet there was always something in the back  of his mind that made him doubt those kind of words. The nebula could tell everytime Roman grimaced for seemingly no reason.

« Are you … » Roman calculated his words. Surely he didn't want to appear more doubtful than he was after his “defeat” at the ball earlier. « Are you sure it's not … »

« Roman, believe me, he'd be the last to care about the fact that you're … » he scrambled for examples. « A bigger star than the sun itself! Star systems share a deep intrinsic bond. Just go at his pace, he might only be distraught. »

« I heard someone talk about big stars. » a voice called over their shoulders. « So I couldn't help but stop by. »

A feminine body loomed before them, familiar almost spirited eyes checked Roman out from afar, until she was close enough to inspect both of them.

« Zeta. » Sirio-A called out unenthusiastically. « What brings you here? »

« Didn't see you dancing. Was wondering what kind of unforeseen event kept you from shining your true beauty upon those little kids. » they grinned. « But I see you're already hooked up. »

« Patton's always been a friend. » he replied in annoyance.

« I don't really do romances, thank you! » Patton offered right after with a bright smile.

« Oh. I apologize for assuming. » she said, before composing herself « Anyway,  I'd appreciate it if you came to chat with me and Canopus instead of running around in search of a random dude. »

Zeta Ophiuchi had always been … an eccentric type of star, basking under the knowledge that she, Roman and Canopus were the brightest ones of the night sky.

She managed to enthrall Canopus in her own thinking, since the latter showed a less strong character than her friend; Roman, though? He'd never really been eager to feed the fire of greatness.

He had come to terms with the fact that all those acts of superiority didn't matter, since nothing really changed in their hierarchy.

« Why do you guys insist on keeping your title as names instead of choosing your own? » he derailed from the conversation.

« A little nosy, aren't we today? »

« Says the one who barged in uninvited. »

Zeta chuckled. « Touché. » she sighed afterwards. « It's because we want to stay true to our origin, partly because it also gives you a grip on your essence, your reality. It's empowering, Sirius. » she put much more emphasis on Roman's title.

He hated it with a burning passion.

Zeta lowered down at his eye-level. « Don't you think? » he wanted to wipe her grin away with a single death glare.

Patton muttered a “not again” under his breath; that occasion happened at least once a month, Zeta would pick at Roman's most sensitive spots and try to get past the thick walls he placed between himself and his insecurities.

« Well it's been a nice sunset! Why don't we go before it gets too dangerous for you to stay away from Ophiuchus, Zeta? »

She stared intently at Roman for a while longer before turning to the nebula and offering a fake smile and a nod. « Of course, Seagull. »

He breathed deeply, then waved sadly at his friend as Zeta followed quickly behind.

Roman understood how she and Canopus had been admitted to the same group as his, yet at the same time he couldn't believe how he had to deal with Zeta's teasing even in the palace.

Working towards his goal was going to be harder than he thought.

✾✾✾✾

« Zeta's a bitch! » Remus abruptly commented, causing his uncle's sudden laughter. « I like her. »

Janus tried to gain his breath back. « Yeah- » he chuckled. « She's going to be rather interesting in the future. »

« Well that was quite the story. »

His eyes widened and he turned towards the entrance of the projector room: there stood a man, probably around his age, with the usual formal outfits and the museum worker plate stuck to his shirt.

« I'm so sorry I- »

« Logan! » Remus sprinted to his feet and ran up the stranger like he was an old relative he loved and hadn't seen in ages.

So that was who Remus would always mention.

Janus walked up to them, trying to hide the embarrassment behind a polite smile. « Come on duke, we should get going now. »

« But he's the star man! »

Star man? Logan thought, low-key impressed.

« There's no need to rush actually. We'll be closing the exhibit rooms in an hour, but most of us tend to stay the night. » he smiled back, then looked down at the young boy. « How do you know my name? »

« I came here two weeks ago! » Remus excitedly said. « With school! There were two of you, you were the cool one. »

Logan recalled a school class and a co-worker helping out with timing.

« We came back for my birthday, but I thought you weren't here today. Can we celebrate together now? »

Janus let out a laugh between exasperation and amusement, then looked up at the astronomer. « He's grown fond of you. » he tried to explain.

« I can see that. » Logan crouched down to converse with Remus easily. « What would you want me to do? »

Never before an occasion like that one had occurred to him, plus an offer to spend time with people with his same interests other than his colleagues, thus less programmed to spit out information in any given situation, would have definitely been a breath of fresh air.

« Let's get ice cream. » Remus turned to his uncle. « Can we? »

Janus nodded. « If Logan is able to, I don't see why not. »

And Logan could afford leaving early every once in a while, so …

« Alright then, » he stepped aside from the entrance to let them exit. « I will let them know I'll be going out. » he pointed towards the offices and left.

About half an hour later, Remus was walking around the park, doing his best not to make the ice cream fall from his cone as he inspected all the bugs and insects he could find.

« I hope we're not wasting precious time. » Janus was walking alongside Logan not too far behind from Remus.

« Not at all. I have been actually told I could have used some free time every now and then. »

« Ah, are you the stay-in-late type? »

Logan moved his head from side to side in half agreement. « Sort of. It is mostly part of our job to carry on with research. You could say my work could be divided into day and night jobs. I do not mind it a single bit, to be fair. »

« Oh! » the star stopped dead in his tracks, realization hitting him, while the astronomer looked back at him, blinking in confusion. « How rude of me. » he extended his arm to the other. « My name is Janus Hydra. »

Logan gladly shook it. « Pleasure to be here then, Janus. »

The star smiled, then they went back to walking. « And the one who's trying to catch a butterfly is my nephew Remus. » he giggled as he watched the kid almost stick his cone into a tree.

« It was very thoughtful of you to bring him to the museum for his birthday. »

« Yes, well, he wouldn't stop mentioning it day and night. It would've been rude of me not to do so. »

Logan caught an odd detail in that sentence. « You live with him? » he asked, trying to be as cautious and considerate as possible.

Janus nodded and, for the first time, he wasn't asked why. He was silently grateful for, objectively, a stranger not trying to peer into his personal life as much as others would do.

« So, what about you? I haven't seen you around my workplace, yet you seem to be knowledgeable about stars. » he thought back at the moments in which he pointed up at the constellations with impeccable precision. « Is it a simple personal passion? »

« You could say that. It's something like a family thing. As you may have noticed, my surname comes from a constellation, by which I could deduce that probably one of my ancestors decided it was going to be our legacy. »

Logan could … honestly see that.

« Very peculiar. I can imagine the- »

« L, look! » Remus ran up to them with a butterfly in his hand. « Which one is this? »

Logan cupped one hand under his. « I suggest not to take it by the wings, » with the other, he instructed Remus to drop it gently on his palm. « Touching them damages them as it removes the material on them which permits butterflies to distinguish and disguise themselves. Furthermore, your risk to damage or even completely break the wings. They're pretty fragile. » the little insect walked up to his fingertip. « Here. » he offered as he gestured for Remus to carefully let the butterfly walk on from Logan's to his hand.

« This one is a Morpho Menelaus, also known as blue morpho. »

« I read they can drink from puddles. » the kid said as he lowered the insect next to one on the ground.

« That's true, they have a varied diet. Did you know some can drink blood as well? »

Remus jumped to his feet, a wide grin on his face. « They can?! »

Logan made a diverted expression at the difference between Remus's reaction and Janus's unpleasant disbelief.

« There's a moth species in Asia with this ability, if it pleases the butterfly of course, it's rare but not undone. »

Time seemed to dilate as Remus kept asking for more facts to the “cool man who seemed to know everything”, the small talk between the latter and Janus to slowly get to know each other more and the general pleasant aura made them forget it was almost time for dinner.

« Wait. » Remus, once again, caught everyone's attention. « What about my birthday gift from Logan? »

Janus wanted to intervene, but Logan seemed way ahead of him already.

« How inconsiderate of me, you are absolutely correct, I should have prepared for this important event. » he pretended to think about it. « How about you can come to the museum whenever you want without the need of a ticket? »

Remus beamed, that was the best t-

« No. »

And his heart skipped a beat for a moment. He turned to look at his uncle with disappointment, but Janus's glance was fixed on Logan's.

« I refuse to not support your job. We will pay, like any other visitor. »

« Let's make a deal, then. You can come whenever you'd like and stay later than closing time, while I get to hear the story you were telling earlier as well. »

That was entirely unexpected. What was so charming about events he had witnessed? It didn't sit completely right with him, but who was he to deny saving money for the sake of his nephew's happiness?

Janus looked down at Remus who had assumed the “cat with the boots” adorable pleading face.

« Alright, you win this one, but I still owe you. » he warned Logan.

« Completely fine with me. »

« Are you sure it's okay to do, still? »

The astronomer had no doubts. « I will find a way, no need to worry. I'll be expecting you two tomorrow? » he asked, tilting his head almost imperceptibly to the side.

The other two agreed to come say hi after Remus had been done with school and thus they parted ways.

As Janus drove home, he realized he hadn't felt the all too familiar dawning of anguish a single moment of the day.

Was that going to be the eagerly awaited turning point?

Ever since they started visiting the museum, Remus and Janus took their time to explore every room and all the documents the exhibit had to offer, which made it really effective to tire Remus out in anticipation of bedtime.

Thus, the storytelling would often get postponed, especially since they wanted Logan to also be present, though he had to run important experiments during the first few weeks. They so decided to change it from a bedtime story to “their thing”, under the faint light of a constellations projector.

A month had now passed since their first encounter, and they finally managed to all sit down together in the almost dark room.

« Here's an apology gift. » Logan pushed a box in front of Remus who immediately wrapped off the paper encasing it.

« Apology for what exactly? » Janus asked with an eyebrow raised. « You're already letting us stay here for free. » it had become like a second home at that point.

« I know, but I have been around very briefly and I had to sneak you in late to cut out some time for you. »

« We aren't expecting you to be here every single time, Logan, you work here … »

« And you're also forgiven! » Remus exclaimed showing the little glow-in-the-dark stars stickers he already couldn't wait to put up in his room.

Janus chuckled under his breath. « You still didn't have to. » he made himself comfortable against the room's wall.

« If everyone's ready, I shall begin. »

✾✾✾✾

Roman felt like Virgil had been missing for most of the sunset dances.

He hadn't caught a glimpse of him in weeks, he felt as if he had been playing hide and seek all this time; Patton told him not coming wasn't possible, like stars were literally just teleported fully dressed to the ballroom the second it begun.

He had also been pretty busy avoiding Zeta and Canopus – not that the latter was any threat to him, actually she would've been easily persuaded to not tell on his location – that time ran out before he could meet up with Virgil.

All hope had been lost as he laid against a column and turned away from the dancing couples.

And he saw Virgil, a few meters away, sitting on a marble sort of parapet like he was ready to jump on his feet and leave. He was surrounded by a lack of other stars.

« Hey there. » Roman waved from his spot and his system's partner turned to him with the quickest neck movement he'd ever seen.

He looked as tired as someone who'd been dancing around all night.

… trying to … avoid someone …

Okay, they were both tired as hell.

Virgil gave the most effortless wave he could muster.

« Haven't seen you lately. » Roman pointed out. « Still, would you sit down with me? I don't think I can handle standing a minute longer. »

« I concur. » Virgil responded, grateful.

They slid down to the floor in almost perfect synchrony, simply watching what was going on before them: Roman was able to catch Patton's eyes and smile at him.

« Remember when you said I'm not a good judge of what is and isn't a friendship? »

« Didn't phrase it like that, but sure. »

« Does someone who's constantly bothering you and generally poke at your limits seem like a friend? »

Virgil took a silent but deeper look at the other and noted in his mind how exasperated he sounded.

« That sounds more like someone's been annoying you non-stop. That's … not exactly friendship either. »

Roman sighed, trying not to spiral into hysteria by the end of the night; he could hear Zeta's imposing voice in every corner he tried to escape.

How to break into silence?

« What do you think about going to the balcony? »

Virgil didn't hate the idea, but worry got the best of him. « Isn't that section of the palace reserved to the Sun and Moon only? »

His acquaintance displayed a mischievous smile. « Not if we get back before anyone notices. » he pulled himself to his feet, offering his hand to the other confidently.

Virgil couldn't help but take it and venture into unexplored areas; the hallways decorations were pretty much the same, if not less sumptuous, of the ballroom. He watched as Roman pushed glass doors open and revealed a terrace with a view of the Earth's sunrise on the sky above them.

They must have been on the Sun's wing. He felt suddenly more agitated about his presence there.

« Finally, » Roman took large steps to the parapet and leaned on it, closing his eyes to the gentle breeze caressing his hair. « A moment of silence. »

Virgil mimicked him. « I hadn't felt this peaceful nothingness in a long while. »

The other opened one eye to give him a sideways look. « You have visitors? »

« People have been fussing over me for some reason ever since we made our debut here. »

That explained the ever tired look, the staying behind as stars danced and had fun, and especially the unwanted attention.

« They say they find me cute or whatever, only because I'm the smaller star in the binary system. It's … really annoying. Kind of offensive, if I can say. »

« Here we are, » Roman chuckled to himself. « Both socially exhausted because everybody's patronizing you, while I'm being picked at constantly. »

« It's our system's fatal flaw. » Virgil confessed dramatically, which made the other snort, surprised by the sudden burst of confidence with joking around him.

They spent some more minutes in silence, the music from the ballroom was barely audible, like they were slowly being taken away.

Neither of their situations were desirable, but Roman really could've used some positive attention every once in a while, instead of laying in the dreadful awaiting of being ridiculed, as whoever else passed by him tried not to make eye contact.

He didn't realize he had progressively lowered his head to rest on the parapet's rail, his eyes half-lidded. He dared to take a quick glance at Virgil, standing tall as he observed the morning sky: every movement of his purple irises looked like a stroke of a brush on an expensive painting.

There, he looked much bigger than the universe they were in, some sort of irony against his usual small perception, which caused other stars to nickname him as “the pup”.

Roman's face portrayed an amused smile as he imagined Virgil being one of Earth's small dogs he had been told about.

It quickly faltered though, as soon as he shook the thought away, the sorrowful reality of his loneliness hit him and he couldn't stop himself from murmuring his belief to the sunrise.

« I really have only one friend, huh? »

The quiet around made it possible for Virgil to hear clearly, so he turned and looked at him from above, pondering whether or not it was appropriate of him to console Roman in some way.

At the end of the day, they really were alike, as distinct as they still could appear.

« You can have me? Two isn't much higher than one, but it isn't as bad. »

Roman averted the sky to disperse his bewilderment directly into Virgil's eyes, all fluttery eyelids and raised eyebrows.

« That would be so much better. » Virgil was glad to be the cause of his smile for once. « Thank you, Virgil. »

« You can call me Virge. »

Roman started cooing mockingly. « Aw, you're opening up to me. »

« And already regretting it, thank you very much. »

The other genuinely laughed and his expression softened, letting silence set one more veil above them.

« I wish I could visit you. » Roman then said after admiring the landscape. « We'd make sleepovers along with Patton- »

« Stars don't sleep. »

Oh, damn it. They had gotten so lost in their conversation that they hadn't noticed the music fading out completely.

As they turned, they noticed Emile at the entrance of the terrace, a warm expression set on his face, some sort of understanding as he had his arms folded over himself and sparkles of light all around.

He wasn't hostile, yet he knew they didn't belong there. Still, he wasn't one to reprimand.

« You should hurry back, friends. » he suggested, leaving one of the two doors free for them to pass through.

The two quickly made their way towards the hallway, but for Virgil it felt like an eternity: the moment he locked eyes with the Sun, it was as though his body refused to acknowledge its own movements. He didn't realize Roman had been tugging him by the sleeve as Virgil walked right past Emile, never leaving his glance.

Roman turned back to him as they half-ran towards the ballroom, noticing Virgil still hadn't turned his head from the balcony's entrance.

« Are you alright? »

« Huh? » Virgil quickly moved to look forward and find Roman's curious face.

The bigger star noticed the glimmering lights on his cheeks: a common feature which meant a star was happy or feeling intense emotions.

He saw Roman furrow his eyes, like he was trying to connect the dots, but rapidly ignoring it as they had made their way through the ballroom.

This time, Roman had a different tale to tell Patton.

✾✾✾✾

« So- uh? »

As Janus had been stroking Remus's hair absentmindedly, he hadn't realized the kid's breath had been slowing down to an evenly repeated movement: as he looked down, he saw his nephew biting through his glove in his sleep.

« It really sounds like an effective bedtime story. » Logan commented as Janus carefully placed Remus's head on his shoulder. He helped him stand up without losing balance and they quietly made their way towards the exit and, subsequently, Janus's car as, like Logan said, “it was the least he could do for them that night”.

« Are you going to go back in? » Janus whispered as he kept an eye on the backseat of his car.

Logan checked his watch, noticing time had flown by rather quickly, no wonder the kid had already fallen asleep. « I think so, yes. »

« Okay. » the other nodded. « Don't stay too late, Remus is not the only one who needs sleep. »

« I am fully aware of what a healthy circadian rhythm consists of. » he threw in a slight, non-harmful piece of sarcasm in his voice.

« Oh, I know you do. I was just making sure you knew you aren't elected to ignore it either way. »

Logan was delighted by the atmosphere: it was always pleasant to realize the exact moment in which you got closer to someone, the caring feeling hidden under friendly banter.

He was glad someone was looking out for him in that way.

« I'll theorize about what's going to happen next in your tale to help myself, then. »

« Hey, » Janus pointed towards him. « Don't you dare use that excuse to stay up later, though. »

« Will not do. » Logan chuckled. « Seriously, though, you needn't worry. »

« Fine. » he said, realizing that maybe his “mother-hen” senses had been activated the moment his nephew had fallen asleep.

He looked back at his little duke, and took a step backward, moving to his car.

« Well- »

Janus raised his arm to wave, but was interrupted by his friend's sudden words.

« I was thinking, » Logan was tapping his fingertips together before stopping altogether and making eye contact, like he had forgotten what he was doing. « If you'd like to and if you have time, we could hang out? It doesn't always have to be my workplace, or be a rushed thing. »

« That would be lovely! I can't really leave Remus alone nowadays and I always work when he's at school, as I imagine you do as well, but you could definitely come visit when you're off. »

Both of them were thrilled of the thought of spending quality time with each other for once.

« Oh, right. I could pick you up from work and you could have dinner with us! »

« Sounds excellent. » Logan moved slightly and a speck of street light hit part of his face, lighting up one of his eyes.

It was there that it was clear how the dark of the night made everything seem more mysterious and grim.

They waved each other goodbye, deciding to agree upon the day of their meeting via text.

Janus heard Remus shuffle in his seat, he was gripping tightly at the door's handle.

The moment he looked back ahead of himself he noticed an unusual glimmering under his eyes: he quickly checked on the rear-view mirror, finding the same sparkles he had described in his story.

He in-took a deep breath and braced himself for whatever was going to come in the future, while all he could think about were sharp looks and a poised personality.

That sure as the sky was going to be interesting to witness.

For example, it was deeply interesting when he received a call from Logan, the latter insisting he couldn't be able to sleep; the sound of the phone ringing had also woken Remus up, whom unceremoniously plopped onto his uncle's bed right beside him as soon as he heard Logan's voice.

Now he had two restless kids to put to sleep.

« This isn't an excuse for both of you to stay up later is it? »

« I wanted to talk to Logan too! »

« And I forgot to get melatonin on my way to work. »

After arguing to get him to make a physical note to leave on his table for the morning after, Janus allowed the man to stay on the line and Remus to get comfortable under the covers, while only the bedside table lamp was on.

✾✾✾✾

The terrace scene had replayed in Virgil's head for weeks.

Ever since the start, his goal had been the one to be able to reach the Sun, the one childhood hero he had grown to love, now he had him at his fingertips and yet, he was still so distant.

He danced with strangers to gain courage to get as close as possible to him, but he couldn't find it to touch his hand, let alone when he had to speak a single word to him.

The Sun seemed kind-hearted, he was for sure as well, he knew he wouldn't have been the target of insults for his deep admiration.

Despite all of this, he was still scared.

He was going to explode if he didn't speak up about it anytime soon.

« Are you alright? »

That question again, while the same thoughts circled in his mind, ones he couldn't keep in anymore.

« I think I'm in love with him. »

Roman battered his eyes. He had been spending most of the dance time with him, venting to each other about whoever came to visit or simply relaxing in the quietest spot they were allowed to reach.

They hadn't danced together once yet.

« Care to explain further? »

How could he when he couldn't even say his name?

« The sun. » Virgil hardly let out any voice. « I just- » he felt all the tension wash away as he looked into Roman's red irises, willing to gather more knowledge on the situation. « I'm happy to come here only because I have a chance to see him, but every single time someone else sweeps him away before I can even reach him. »

That would've been Remy, Roman thought.

« And even if I had the opportunity … I couldn't take it. It's stronger than me and it's eating me alive at the same time. » his breath was heavy with emotion.

Roman made space to a new feeling as well. There was only one way he could explain it.

Daggers.

Daggers piercing through your chest and stomach, multiple of them slowly and attentively burning holes in every vital organ, becoming sharper the longer Roman breathed through it.

It was because of empathy, right? He felt awful for Virgil's incapacity to interacting with the one he loved.

So why would the thought of helping him deepen the sharpness of those knives?

« I just … need to at least talk about it with someone. I only ever really have this opportunity with you and then again, staying alone with my thoughts- »

« It makes you want to scream. »

Roman wanted to yell the pain away.

« Like your organs are contorting … »

And twisting and looking for a way out of your body.

« … And your heart is in your throat, trying its best to escape. »

Virgil nodded, an aching expression displayed on his face.

« Why don't you just go? Next time, you just throw yourself in. Be yourself. It's always what they tell you to do. Let it happen, be natural and respect his boundaries. A path will slowly be open to you. »

What was he doing?

Virgil let the information sink in and, slowly, that pained face transformed into a warm smile.

That. That's what I'm doing. That's what I always want to do.

It was also how they tended to spend the sunset and sunrise dances ever since; Roman would sit down with Virgil in the corner and psych him up for him to be able to, eventually, open up to the opportunity of meeting Emile for real.

And, at the same time, he watched himself struggle and fall down, masking himself for the sake of the other.

On a particular night, he was walking away from the room alone, a myriad of thoughts surrounding his mind.

He didn't even have what he wanted.

« No, I do. » he retorted to himself, stopping dead in his tracks.

Virgil was his friend, that's all he had ever wanted ever since he found out about his existence, so why was it just not enough yet? Why was it so doleful, the idea of the friend he craved being so happy with someone else?

Why couldn't it just admit his emotions to himself? Why was there always a wall between him and how he felt?

« Would you please like to get moving? » he felt a hand push him from his back and the sight of Zeta and Canopus at her side obscured his mind from whatever he was thinking.

He didn't react much other than get to walking again, everything would've been fine, to some extent, if he didn't hear her whisper to her friend about how she was going to stop at Sirius's star before.

Anxiety surged in his stomach, up to his stomach, pumping his heart more than needed.

« You've been distraught. » she announced as they landed on his star. « What's up? »

« You think I'd tell you? »

« Why do you have anyone else to say that to? »

Roman looked down: as much as he hated to admit it, she was right.

« That still doesn't mean I suddenly want to open up to you. »

« Sirius, come on, you think you'll ever get the chance to do so with that little kid? »

« His name is Virgil. » he growled.

She tilted her head, mouth open. « Protective aren't we? » he clicked her tongue three times. « Not good, Sirius, not good. As I was saying, you'll never have the chance to talk with anyone but me and Canopus. »

Shut up.

« Patton won't be able to be here for you forever. »

Shut up.

« And everybody knows how Sirius B's star is slowly dying- »

« Can you stop for once in your life?! »

Zeta watched as Roman put his hands on his ears, eyes wide with panic, his entire body was trembling as he sat down, his sadness finally hitting him. Tears welled in his ruby eyes as too many concerns formed inside him.

« Don't talk about him. » he managed to say through the sobs. « Don't mention him, in any way, I don't want you to even think about him. »

Zeta arched an eyebrow and stepped closer, offended by the sudden burst. « You really need to own up to your true title and stop hanging around the pathetic ones. »

She walked away from him, until yelling took her by surprise.

« I love him! » Roman admitted, pulling his arms away from his eyes, his face reddened and wet with sorrow. « Are you happy?! I love him and he definitely doesn't. »

He looked down and all he saw was opaque misery.

« Well of course he doesn't. » she spat, turning back to give him one last disgusted glance. « Look at yourself. »

The last dagger.

Roman collapsed and let out all his anguish.

Yet again, he was going to find himself left behind, alone in his shuddersome melancholy.

And no one else had to know.

✾✾✾✾

There was a beat of silence.

« Uncle, how am I going to sleep after all of that? »

Janus grinned mischievously. « I like to torture my readers. » then he picked up the phone again and whispered. « But listen. »

Nothing more than a slow breathing came from the other end.

« Want to say goodnight? »

Remus nodded vigorously. « Night Lol! » he then watched as Janus hung up. « Is Roman going to be okay? »

Janus shrugged. « Maybe. »

« I'm going to kick you off the bed. »

« I'd tease you more but I recognize you're actually able to do that. »

« Good. » Remus smiled and eventually tucked himself further in bed, ready for a good night's sleep. And maybe some chaos in the middle of it, but it wasn't like his uncle had to know.

On a fortunate weekend, Janus and Remus were finally driving back to their apartment with a new component of their little group. Logan was contentedly sitting in the passenger seat, ready for another one of the peculiar nights around who became in no time two of his favorite people.

As he made his way through the porch, he noticed how Remus had wanted to stick the glow-in-the-dark stars on every single apartment wall. In fact, he had told the astronomer how sometimes he would convince his uncle to have a sleepover in different rooms.

« Imagine sleeping in the kitchen and waking up to breakfast ready! »

« That literally already happens, I always cook you something before you wake up. And don't think I don't notice those midnight snacks. »

The dinner went by nicely, Logan had settled in quickly, like he had always belonged there: he helped with food and to hinder Remus whenever it was extremely needed, or at least keep him company while he played as Janus was busy in the kitchen.

Having Logan around felt like the most normal thing ever and Janus was grateful to have a friendship like his.

Before he knew it, the sparkles were back. He fought them away as he called the other two, trying to keep himself through the entire meal, but it was absolutely impossible as he kept laughing and smiling thanks to someone so dashingly-

Hold up. Back on track.

You're supposed to fight it back, not welcome it, you dumbass.

Remus lost interest in the TV show he was following and left the room to go play with his toys once he had finished eating, taking some ice cream with him.

In the middle of a conversation, Janus absentmindedly rubbed at his cheek, not noticing he had taken off some of the makeup he meticulously had put on before he left home.

Someone else noticed, of course.

« Oh- You have- Hang on. » Logan bent over the table, thinking an eyelash had fallen on Janus's cheek, though when he noticed it didn't fall off, rather it expanded, he arched his eyebrows and sat back, looking at the makeup residue on his fingertips.

Janus's heart had skipped multiple beats since then. What was he supposed to say now?

« I would never pry, but, is everything alright? »

Seeing the genuine concern and care behind Logan's glasses, he convinced himself it was time for him to learn the story behind him.

Not every single detail … as he would've never believed him.

« It's … kind of a long story. » he began, folding his hands together on the table. « Remus's mother, she was my sister. She had married this man, Clyde Davis. »

« The therapist? »

« You know him? » the world surely was very little.

« Not personally. » his doctor had suggested him as he was also a psychiatrist, to help with his sleep issues.

« Well, they were together for a few years, then they had Remus and everything was going splendidly. » his glance moved from his hands to Remus playing in the other room. « Until my sister fell ill. It didn't take too long for it to consume her … I was already staying by their side pretty much daily, supporting them. » he sighed deeply and passed a hand on his face. « When she passed away, it also didn't take long before Clyde decided to start a new life … without Remus. »

« He … passed him onto you? Just like that? » Logan was bewildered negatively.

« Yes. He said we reminded him too much of her and he couldn't stay in that kind of environment anymore. »

« I understand the decision, but, and pardon my french, that is what they call a “dick move”. »

Janus couldn't help but giggle at that. « Yeah, I can't believe I used to be in love with him. »

Wait.

Wait.

Earthlings, Janus, you fool!

That was it, he ruined automatically whatever he had created with Logan with a single sentence because he forgot the humans' moral compass.

Right before he could spiral, he felt a hand on his and, when he looked up, he saw his friend's reassuring expression.

« It's okay. Sometimes we love people who hurt us, it can happen and we cannot control what our heart dictates. »

Janus blinked multiple times, then couldn't bare his stare anymore and looked down again. Then at their joined hands.

He took another breath. « Remus and I were perfectly fine by ourselves, dare I say Remus's presence lit up my days more than I did his. Then one day he appeared on my doorstep and it took all I had in myself to not slam the door right on his face. He insisted he had left something behind and decided to retrieve it after two years. Needless to say … he made me very upset. »

He scrunched his face for a second.

« I had a knife in my hand … and, well, I accidentally injured myself while trying to prove a point. » he wiped further at his cheek and part of his eyebrow and forehead. « Thankfully it wasn't as deep as it seemed. »

« I'm really sorry all of that happened. » Logan grimaced. « I would gladly teach him a lesson if he ever comes in my sight. »

Janus snorted. « Will you tell him about Runaway stars? »

« I hate and love that sentence at the same time, but as much as it would be the most intently ironic topic ever, I do have mediocre experience in explaining about how to raise a child in an healthy environment. »

He nodded. « Yes, that would be an incredibly helpful topic. »

« For future reference, of course. »

« Ah yes, not like he ever needed that in the past. » Janus had waited for this kind of conversation to happen with someone for ages.

« I'm glad you told me when you didn't have to. » Logan eventually confessed. « I imagined something like this had happened, but I preferred you were the one to brush the subject first. »

Janus had always been grateful for that. « You're the first and only one so far. » they both smiled at that. « But yes, I just didn't want you to worry about this. » he said, pointing to his scar.

Logan didn't exactly control his next words. « Not that I can not worry for you nonetheless. »

No, don't do that to me.

« Sometimes it's like … I wished I could stay longer. I suppose it has to do with the fact that I like being around to help the two of you, be it with chores or having fun. Instead I keep rushing back and forth from home to work lately. »

Janus bit the inside of his cheek. « You're always welcome here if you want to distract yourself. Just be sure to take care properly. »

« I know I should. I never seem to have enough time in a day. »

« Then let us. » Janus started grinning and laid back against his seat. « Remus makes a killer combination of ice cream and we know all the best TV shows, I'm fairly sure you have a similar taste to mine. Oh my, I can't imagine you with a face mask- »

« Please spare me. » Logan pretended to be scared for his life as the other couldn't contain his laughter anymore.

« It's too late. The plan is already in motion. »

Their conversation derailed until wine settled in to make everything more light hearted.

Remus ventured in the room around 10, announcing he was tired by letting half of his body rest on top of his uncle's legs. He carried him towards his bed and, that time, both Logan and Janus had sat down next to him for the night's storytelling.

✾✾✾✾

« Gosh, this really is harder than it originally sounded like. » Patton had been rubbing Roman's back for the past minutes as he had lost all the energy to dance after the previous week's realization.

Dare he say, he was actually trying to avoid Virgil in any kind of way. His absence would've probably helped him far more to finally approach Emile, anyway. He was just helping him further, wasn't he?

« I feel awful. » the nebula admitted, a sour taste in his mouth. « One-sided feelings are difficult to accept, though not impossible to overcome. It may sound stupid, but you'll feel better with time, Ro. I assure you. »

« You're right, it sounds stupid. » he had never heard his voice so low.

Patton smiled sadly. « I know. But I do feel like, instead of inconveniencing yourself further, you should spend as much time as you are allowed to with him. » he looked back at him. «  And none says Emile automatically reciprocates. »

« Don't get my hopes up. »

« I was just saying. » Patton used his sing-song voice, the one that never failed to make Roman smile. « Either way, I'll always be here to be your moral support. »

« Believe me, you'll also always be a far better moral support than Zeta. »

« She isn't the best in that department. »

Both Patton and Roman looked up and the latter found Canopus sitting next to him.

« She thinks she looks out for people. She has good intentions, but she's still a little confused on her methods. » it was usual of her to defend Zeta, but Roman was glad she shared nothing of Ophiuchus' star's attitude.

« I think she should understand not every single one of us is under her supervision. »

Canopus nodded, lying against the column which was lining up perfectly with her back.

« Why has she left you alone? » Roman didn't mind her, she was actually one of the kindest stars he knew, but seeing her by herself made him skeptical.

« Did she hurt you? We would stand by your side in case! »

Canopus giggled and put up her hands. « It's okay. No, she's … talking to someone. » she pointed to Roman. « Your co-star? Virgil? »

That was the last straw-

« Don't you dare. » Patton pulled Roman back down on his seat, though the other was fuming with rage already. « Canopus, dear, why would Zeta converse with Virgil without you? »

« She said she needs to ask him a question. A rather personal question, something she didn't want me to know, I guess. » she looked into Roman's eyes with determination. « She vowed to never lie to me many, many years back. I'm sure she isn't saying anything about you. You know how she's all for honor, I don't think she would tell on you like that. »

As much as Zeta's ways had always been pretty drastic, Roman believed her, though the curiosity of what she might have been asking was eating him away.

More than being curious, for Virgil the experience was dreadful.

You suddenly saw one of the biggest stars in the room come up to you and ask about your feelings, like everyone in the room could've read you easily.

« This is going to sound weird. » she declared as she took Virgil's hand when they exchanged dancing partners. « But I need to know this out of you. Do you by any chance nurture any kind of romantic feelings towards Sirius A? »

Virgil felt dumbfounded. « No. » he quickly said, quicker than needed. « I do not. » he added, trying to mimic her poised nature.

« So, if there ever was another potential lover, you'd think the path would be clear for them? »

Was that hope in her voice? The tiniest tremble in a heated room.

« I definitely think so. » she glanced back in a direction unknown to Virgil.

« Thank you. » she whispered before disappearing back in the crowd; he stepped away from it, finding easily Emile's bright figure dancing and smiling like it was the first time with some stars unknown to him.

« Isn't he beautiful? »

Damn. That really was the richest night he had, huh?

Right next to him stood the Moon themselves; Remy was holding their glasses, letting their gleaming silver eyes rest for a while.

« Truly. » he agreed, letting the softness take him away.

« I couldn't ask for a more amazing dance partner every night. » Virgil wished he could share a piece of their happiness.

« I can only imagine. » he looked down, gaze fixed onto the Sun.

Remy titled their head. « You haven't danced with him yet? »

Virgil shook his head no and bite his lip. He so wished to do so.

« Then fear not, sweetie, I got your back. » they put back their sunglasses and carefully led Virgil to dance in swirls around the room, so that his next partner would have been Emile for sure.

« It's an experience to try. He's like, the most magnificent star I've ever met. »

« I know. » Virgil's tone was now more dreamy. « I've seen him everyday in front of me, I've been hoping to interact with him ever since I was little. »

« That sounds adorable, darling. Your wish is my command, humans use to wish upon stars, but it's truly only the Moon that hears them and guides them through their path. »

Remy noticed they were close to the partner change.

« One last question. What's your title? »

« Sirius B. I'm part of a binary star-system. » Virgil felt Remy's grip loosen on his hand and, slowly, he was let to someone else.

« Good luck, Virgil. »

Remy's nod was the last thing he saw before turning and finding Emile smiling down at him.

As for the Moon, he found himself dancing with Patton. « Ah! My favorite Nebula! »

« Hello Remy. » Patton giggled at Remy's extra antics. « I see you were talking to Virgil. »

« Yeah, the guy was totally scared. Like, girl, I know I'm a big deal, but you're starting to make me feel like royalty, that's going to feed my ego. » they let out a laugh, but composed themselves rather rapidly. « Say, he told me something that kind of left me perplexed. »

Oh, no.

Patton feared Virgil had disclosed his feelings, but he was pretty sure he wouldn't have been so ingenuous to reveal them to the Moon, of all presents.

« He seemed to express deep admiration for Emile. » was it really what he was thinking? « But he said he's in front of him? Like a childhood kind of admiration, you know? Someone you look up to ever since you're born. Weird, because last time I checked, Sirius B is in front of Sirius A. »

« Hold on. » Patton's eyes widened and the couple stopped in the middle of the room. « Are you telling me he hasn't been praising the Sun just because of all the stories about him, but because he has mistaken it for Roman? »

« Seems so. I wanted to let you know, in case there had been a misunderstanding. »

« Oh my gosh, Remy! » Patton pulled both of them out of the crowd. « That is fantastic news! »

« It is? Did I do a good job? Have I earned a gold star? » Remy smirked as the nebula laughed his heart out between his excitement and the pun.

They reached Roman in no time, who had decided to sit by himself during the entire night.

« You're not going to believe this, Ro! »

Patton took Roman's hands in his and smiled brightly as he narrated everything that had just happened with Remy's assistance when it came to what exactly happened between him and Virgil.

Despite now realizing that Virgil's feelings should have been directed at him, Roman's expression didn't differ.

« You do know that changes nothing, right? »

Patton's face fell. « Wh- »

« Pat, listen. Even if he'd mistaken his feelings for the wrong person, Virgil has still developed feelings for Emile, not for me. He isn't going to direct them towards me only because of a tiny mistake, it isn't how they work. »

Remy leaned over Patton. « Uh, I'm going to let you guys work this out, not because I'm jealous or whatever, promise. I don't wanna intrude. Hope you figure it out. » then they spared one last look for Roman. « But dude, why not tell him? He's still your friend, and he has only just met Emile, after feeding off of a false image of him. » then, the Moon shrugged. « But you do you, sir. Have a nice rest of the night. » with that, they disappeared.

« I won't force you, Ro. But do know that I support you. »

Roman didn't feel like having the same sharp daggers through his stomach again, yet a huge part of him was pulling him to his feet. With no other word, he let himself between the dancing couples.

And, of course, in no time he clasped hands with Zeta.

« Here for another lecture? »

« No, not tonight. »

Roman scoffed. « I thank you for blessing me. »

Silence fell between them as Roman caught sight of Virgil and the Sun. And their happiness. And how he had never made him smile so wide, how he had never made his eyes glimmer like that, how he hadn't gotten a single sparkle out of his cheeks the way he had had it on for the entirety of his dance with Emile.

Feeling under motivated, he looked away, deciding against intervening. Who was he to break his little dream?

Virgil really had been living his dream.

But everybody knows sometimes dreams tend to turn into nightmares.

« I'm glad I get to inspire the younger ones. » Emile made dancing feel natural. « Though I must ask you something as well, after seeing such adoration. » he looked in Virgil's eyes deeply. « Are you being true to yourself and honest with your feelings, Virgil? »

Agitation grew into him. « W-what would that mean? » he stuttered, his cover already blown.

« You don't have to lie about what you feel only because you fear the outcome. You already know that star in front of you is not me but it's Roman, you've known all along but you've masked it with me so Roman would have backed away thinking his interest was one sided. »

Virgil had never felt more read through in his entire life, like he had had the truth plastered on his face the entire time.

The guilt in his eyes told Emile he was spot on.

« Why is that so, little one? »

« Everybody knows what happens when two stars of a system collide they either become a single bigger star, or produce a black hole. » Virgil looked down. « I … I feared the outcome of our relationship. I figured if I made him step away, nothing like that would've happened. I didn't want to risk it. »

The Sun frowned. « You were ready to give up both of your happiness? »

« For the sake of potentially every star in this room? Yes. » he could taste his own sour words. « Nothing else matters. »

« Let me tell you something, Virgil. » Emile pulled them away from the crowd of dancers. « Usually, a black hole happens when there's a series of star collisions. A single star collision tends to merge the two stars into a supernova explosion. And yes, it is said that only one of the two will survive ultimately, but actually what survives is a mixture of the two. We call this a luminous red nova. This will only happen if your binary system ever experiences orbital decay. » Emil put a hand on Virgil's shoulder. « If you are careful about how you move and only meet during the sunrise and sunset dances, you're absolutely safe. Believe me. Okay? »

Virgil blinked a few times before stopping to bit his cheek and finally let a genuine smile creep on his face. « I do. I believe you. » he took a deep shaky breath, finally devoid of all the concerns in his mind. « Thank you. »

« Don't mention it, little one. Now, make me proud and go t- »

The Sun got interrupted by a loud crashing sound, like the sky had just broken up and started falling from the ceiling.

The two immediately looked behind themselves to find the most terrifying picture: every single star but one had been blown away, fallen to their feet as the only standing one started having a red aura around them. The luminous shade seemed to only grow wider and … warmer.

« Oh, Jupiter. This is not good. » Emile said as Virgil noticed Roman a few feet away from the standing star, staring wide eyed at them.

« What? What's going on? »

« It's Zeta Ophiuchi. » Emile slowly turned to Virgil, terror in his eyes. « It's turning into a Runaway star. »

✾✾✾✾

« So, what astronomers hypothesized up until now is that Zeta Ophiuchi had been previously part of a binary system itself, but its partner had exploded into a supernova, hurling Zeta at a very high speed through space. This is why they're called runaway stars. » Logan explained to Remus as he had been confused by the dramatic cliffhanger; he then turned to Janus. « That is fairly a very interesting way of portraying the beginning of a runaway star. I wonder what Roman had said to cause her to have that reaction. »

« Oh! I know! He rejected her. »

« Damn, » Janus furrowed his eyes at Remus. « You really don't like leaving some suspense here and there. »

« This is repay for when you told me you didn't know whether Roman was going to be okay. And he sure as hell doesn't sound okay now. »

Janus tucked his nephew into bed. « How about you sleep, you stinky little rat king? »

Remus whined. « You know that's my favorite nickname! I can't help but comply. » he suddenly lifted his hands. « Take me, arms of Orpheus. »

« It's Morpheus. » Logan pointed out.

« You're all boring. » he turned to the other side and, after half an hour, he gave out to his tiredness.

Ever since then, Logan started visiting whenever he could between shifts and free work days, sometimes he would stay for dinner, other times they would all watch movies together. Mostly Logan realized how he much had caught them in his heart and wanted to help around as much as it was possible for him.

Especially since that one other rather emotional night – again, in vino veritas – in which Janus had told him how hard it was to do everything on his own.

He obviously hadn't meant to ask Logan to do everything for him, but it was also a pretty important call for assistance and the astronomer was more than happy to fulfill the position.

« I apologize, » Janus had called from the hallway one evening. « Remus is having some trouble tonight, I'll be back in a minute, you can start watching anything if you'd like. »

It had been fairly twenty minutes since Janus had disappeared behind Remus's door: Logan couldn't help but be concerned, thus he got up, intending on asking whether some help was needed.

His purpose hadn't been to eavesdrop initially, really.

« Virgil had told Anguis that her stories were delightful, » Janus had told Remus as he stroked his hair. Remus's eyes were red and puffy. « He told her she should've pursued her dream and come to Earth to tell humans our adventures around space. He was the one to finally convince her, you know? She shined brighter than I had ever seen her. I was so happy she had made that choice. »

« I still am. I'm very glad we came to Earth. Even after everything that has happened, I couldn't imagine living million of years running through space without you. Without Logan. I'm happy to have fallen down here rather than be up there. »

« I still miss some stars, I miss Roman and Virgil very dearly … I had barely a chance to meet the others, but … I don't regret leaving them behind for this. »

Remus only stared at him, but seemed to nod and ultimately hug Janus tightly.

Logan couldn't make out what they murmured to each other, especially as he got lost in his thoughts.

So there were others?

« Oh- » he didn't notice Janus coming out of the room right after. « Oh f- Uh, how much did you hear? »

« Enough, I think. » Logan was still zoned out, which made him seem like he was completely uncaring.

« Well, uhm, you know how … stories you tell kids am I right? You pretend- »

« I'm an astronomer, Janus, » Logan begun, focusing on the other's eyes. « I know a lot about stars. I've seen you and Remus's faces literally light up. I also know stars can be people, you don't have to lie to me. » his tone was soothing, he still couldn't believe he had met another one. « I met one of you before, his name is Thomas. Thomas Sanders, to be specific. »

Janus's eyes widened. « The- The actor? »

« Exactly. I helped him out when he fell – right behind my house, to his luck – and as of now, we grew apart since he has been profoundly busy. We are still in contact, though. We actually meet up from time to time. »

« That … » Janus's expression was priceless, a mixture of disbelief and amazement. « I have no idea how to describe how I'm feeling right now.

Logan loved it so much.

« Thomas is writing a movie script as of now. He's given one of the characters my name. »

« You. » Janus pulled Logan away from the hallway. « Are, as of now, the coolest human being of my knowledge. »

They sat down on the couch, letting the TV show be their background noise.

« Why, I'm rather flattered. »

« Okay. » Janus took the glass of wine he had left on the table earlier, before taking a small sip out of it. « I'm ready. »

« For? »

« My actual life story. »

Logan tilted his head and laid back, ready to let the other talk. It had already been a stressful night, why not stay on theme?

« My sister and I were formerly two shooting stars. We used to travel through space and meet a wide range of stars, galaxies and planets. It was wonderful. Then we fell on Earth by choice. We quickly adapted to its customs somehow. Anguis and I met Clyde, they fell in love and I put my feelings aside in their favor, since … I heard my love isn't exactly condoned here. » he took another sip.

« When I told you she fell ill, it was actually her star self shutting down. She ultimately became stardust under our very own eyes. Clyde feared Remus and I would end up the same way, since even my nephew's part star. And then we were left alone. » he opened his arms. « I hope this tale entertained you as well. »

Logan didn't say anything before surging forward and taking Janus in a tight embrace. He wasn't intending on letting go anytime soon, especially when he felt his friend's sobs on his shoulder.

« What if it really happens? W-what if I lose Remus in the span of a week? I couldn't bear it. »

« What if you don't? What if he spends a wonderful fulfilling life thanks to the possibilities you're offering him? What if you get to see him grow old and spend all your last moments knowledgeable that he is happy thanks to you? Because never in your life the thought of abandoning him ever crossed your mind. »

Logan tightened his hug. « You are a spectacular guardian, Janus. Take it from someone who knows how it feels to be neglected. You have nothing to fear, and it's normal to feel doubtful every now and then. » he loosened it after, so he could look him in the eyes. « Whatever happens, you can face it like you have always done. Okay? »

Janus nodded and muttered a low okay, right after he almost didn't register Logan giving him a forehead kiss.

« I hope you will feel more free to tell me anything that bothers you, now that I know. »

« You're the only one I can turn to. » Janus smiled sadly, averting his eyes.

« Well then, » he took his hands and guided him on his feet. « I am honored to be at your service. Come, now. »

Logan took him to his bedroom so he could rest sooner, but as he helped him lay down, he felt something tug at his shirt. He turned and saw Janus's fingers laced on the fabric.

« Could you stay? » he drowsily asked, his voice barely audible like he was afraid to talk any louder, or at all.

Logan smiled softly and nodded; he proceeded to close the front door and turn off the lights for him. Afterwards, he laid next to the other and stroked his hair until he fell asleep.

He was confused.

Had he always felt attracted by him because of the star's pull, or were his feelings lying to him? Why did he care so much? Why did he want to do anything in his power to ease their lives?

Why hadn't he stopped to caress Janus's face and look at him as soon as he'd fallen asleep? Why would he rather have him in his arms like before?

He wanted to hold his hand longer, let him know he was there in case he had a nightmare.

Still, Janus had simply asked him to stay.

That he was going to do.

After that night, Logan had chosen to give Janus some more space. A few days had passed when he received a very welcome message from one of his acquaintances.

He was quick to text Janus about it as well: Thomas had just asked him if they could meet up that week, which would've been the perfect time for them to meet as well.

They could have also shared their experiences and get other stuff off of their chests, stuff only both of them would understand. Plus he was sure it would've been nice to have someone like you to talk to for instance.

Not even a minute after, Janus wrote back to him, talking about how excited he would've been to meet up with them as well.

It all led to one particular afternoon at a café, Logan had just introduced Janus and Remus to Thomas, who they found out used to be a very small galaxy on the brink of  crashing and becoming a black hole. He lost all of his stars, but at least he saved himself.

He confessed he had a freckled pattern of them on his back.

It didn't surprise him how they clicked immediately.

Thomas talked about his project, this movie where he would talk to different aspects of his personality and work through issues about himself and grow as a person.

« The funniest bit about this is that I'm not human, thus I experienced the most childish dilemmas at an old age. » as Thomas chuckled, Janus was sure he had seen the galaxy's stars in his eyes twinkle as well.

« But enough about me, Logan told me you tell wonderful stories! » Thomas's eyes lit up immediately. « I also asked him a bit about you in general, and honestly dude. You give me major Disney villain vibes. »

Janus put a hand on his chest. « Why, thank you. »

Thomas chuckled. « I was thinking, would you like to contribute to a character I have in mind? He's pretty complex and I have a feeling your thinking would suit him amazingly. »

« Oh. » Janus's mouth hung open. « I … I don't know what to say- »

« Yes! Say yes, I want my character too! Can I have one? » Remus jumped out from his seat and leaned over Thomas as the other man giggled. « I want something gross! »

« I like your unusual thinking, kiddo. » Thomas rested his chin on his hand. « I do have an idea for a character correlated to intrusive thoughts … What's your favorite color, Remus? »

« Green! »

The former galaxy pulled out a notebook from his bag, taking down everything he had just learnt. « I can work with that. »

« Hey uncle, you think we could add Roman and Virgil too? Maybe even Patton? »

Janus cleared his throat, ready to say something similar to the fact that they shouldn't impose anything on Thomas, but was promptly cut off by the man himself as Logan told Remus he had had a wonderful idea.

« Oh? » a sly smile appeared on his lips. « Do tell me more about them? »

Janus scratched his neck and let his hand rest on his shoulder. « Uhm, it's kind of a long story, but it's about these two stars my sister and I met before falling on Earth. »

The former galaxy couldn't have seemed more intrigued: Remus came to the rescue, providing an insightful summary of the previous events, with Logan's assistance, justifying some space facts Thomas had forgotten during his life on Earth.

« You absolutely have to tell me more, dude. »

« As you wish, » Janus assumed his usual storytelling position on the café's seat, looking then both at his nephew and Logan. « Are you guys ready for the great finale? »

✾✾✾✾

In an instant, Virgil had found himself on the ground; Emile had thrown him down so the second blow of Zeta wouldn't have hit him as much, but the Sun kept running, aiming to protect the Moon with everything he had in his potential.

Virgil's every limb was trembling as he pulled himself up by the elbows, sliding forward until he reached something to sustain himself up: he looked around and saw the stupidest star in the galaxy doing the stupidest thing in the universe.

Roman was already standing, trying to coax whatever had caused Zeta to explode, without success.

« You! » she roared, as Emile and Remy started gathering stars around to let them out as fast as they could. « You are an hypocrite! After everything I've done for you! » there was another blow, to which Virgil reacted by doubling over again.

Roman stood still, which was permitted by his star's strength. « I'm sorry I can't reciprocate your feelings Zeta! I can't fake them either! »

« Shut up! »

As another blow hit the room, Virgil tried to slither on the floor the closest he could to the couple: it was then that he understood Roman was numbing down Zeta's crashing energy by taking all the blows on himself.

That idiot.

Roman made a false move by averting his gaze to Virgil on his right, rather than focusing on the soon-to-be runaway star. Zeta followed it, feeling the burning of her insides even stronger than before.

In that single second of haziness, chaos was unleashed.

They all had less than a second to react: Roman ducked to his right, using himself as a shield to protect Virgil, still disoriented by the previous blow.

A single hit from her curve and Virgil would've been detached from their binary system and become a runaway star as well.

Emile rapidly pushed Remy out of the palace along with the other stars, fearing for their well-being as he already knew the consequences Zeta was going to cause.

When he turned back, hearing the Moon's “wait!” before closing the entrance, she had already been violently circulating in the room, everything she hit crumbled to pieces, her final goal being the two stars that had caused her infinite dolence.

She had spiraled out of control.

« Roman! » Emile tried to avoid the falling bricks of marble in every direction, shielding his eyes from the dust. « We cannot withstand her power any longer, we have to leave! »

Virgil looked rapidly between the two, shortly glanced at where Zeta was heading and ran in her opposite direction, taking Roman's hand in his as the Sun went along them.

The entrance had already been blocked, thus there was a single emergency exit remaining: the balcony.

The three ran down the hallways, scrambling to their feet here and there everytime Zeta crashed into the walls and the ceiling, the lights already out.

Everything went wrong when Roman let go of Virgil's hand and locked him and Emile out of the hallway, free to run to their salvation.

They immediately turned to him.

« What the fuck do you think you're doing? » Virgil punched the glass door, while Roman's expression displayed determination and slight regret.

« I'm the strongest star between all of us. I can keep her at bay as you guys get to a safe location- Please, just let me do this. »

« Are you out of your mind?! And leave you in this crumbling place where you'd never get out alive? » Virgil powered up, his eyes and fists becoming pure light and fire. He punched the glassed entrance further, breaking it instantly this time.

Roman's eyes widened and he watched Virgil tug him down by the shirt.

« Don't you get it? It's you, you fool. It's always been you. » Virgil's voice sounded between desperate and on the verge of crying, in need to let out all of the words he'd never been able to before. « I had a hard time admitting it to myself because I was scared but it's always been you I loved. »

Roman couldn't quite believe the words he was hearing, thinking he had to be hallucinating after all the hits taken by Zeta. Tears welled up in his eyes before he could register them, he then raised a hand to cup Virgil's cheek.

« And now I don't care anymore. I don't care, either we die because of a black hole or for a runaway star, it doesn't matter! » he breathed in, hiccuping in the middle of it, before looking back up at Roman. « I will be with you, because I love you. I love you and I'm not scared. »

Roman felt hysterical, letting out a muffled laugh between his sobs. « I love you too. » he took Virgil's face in both his hands and pressed their lips together almost desperately. And there he knew there hadn't been a collision he would've wanted more than that one.

As they parted, Virgil turned to Emile, who had been trying to reduce the blows for as long as they could have some more minutes.

« Go. You're way too important. »

Roman nodded. « We will handle it. »

The Sun spared them one last look, one of those that meant everything from gratitude to the deepest admiration.

When he was gone, Virgil took Roman's hand yet again, maybe for the last time, he thought, and they ventured back in the halls together.

They tightened their grips the more the crashes became unsustainable.

Looking at the ceiling and up ahead, the two understood there was no way for them to progress any further. Roman placed them in front of a window, then he called Zeta to them.

As she inverted her course to reach them, the two embraced each other.

« Scared? » Roman murmured, looking in his eyes.

« Not one bit. » Virgil's soft and imperceptible smile was exactly what Roman would've wished to see last of him.

A blinding light surrounded them, both powering themselves up to take in Zeta's hit and protect each other as best as they could.

Then, the final blow came.

And everything turned dark as a black hole.

It didn't take much for the Sun and the Moon to reconstruct a palace for the sunset dance of the same day, apart from a small eclipse to be formed as the two worked together.

For the first time in forever, they took much longer to show up.

Remy and Emile kept each other's balance as they checked their previous half destroyed palace; the remains kept perfectly gravitating in the same place as before, as though the signs left by Zeta hadn't mattered or damaged them at all.

There was hope, they couldn't deny it, the kind of hope that set yourself up for disappointment.

It was on their third time of jumping around bits of pavement that they decided to give up, sure that there wasn't anything they had left behind.

On the Sun's hallway, where everything was unusually almost untouched, compared to the rest of the building, Remy held Emile's hands as he helped him down a pile of debris.

Something glowed from under their feet, reflecting its light on Remy's sunglasses for a brief moment: they immediately looked down and crouched as their partner curiously asked what he had noticed.

Remy inspected the marble rocks, until he felt some that had definitely a warmer temperature.

Either that was where Zeta had last gone, or …

« Help me take these away. » the Moon's resolute voice made Emile immediately comply.

There it was.

There they were.

Surrounded by a faint purple light, Virgil and Roman laid on the floor in each other's arms, unconscious.

Remy and Emile exchanged looks before lifting a star each and walking away from the desolate place.

Virgil's eyes opened as Emile and Remy parted in each other's new wings, his foggy vision permitted him to make out barely Roman's blacked out face in the distance.

« Ro- » Remy noticed him shifting in their arms. « Did I? No- » he whined, but the Moon shushed him kindly and, just like that he nodded off to sleep again.

Roman didn't comprehend why he had woken up in the Sun's room.

He pulled himself up from the bed, noticing how the room's seemed to have been re-decorated.

Like they had completely changed places.

It hit him in that exact moment, when he saw his ballroom clothes completely different, the pounding headache barely healed.

He made it?

Did that mean …?

Before he knew it, he was running in the hallway.

And someone was running towards him, hugging him on sight.

« For all the galaxies, Roman! » Patton squeezed him tight like he hadn't seen him in a billion eons. « That was not the right time to play the hero! » Patton pulled away that much to look him in the eyes. « I am so glad you're alive. » he then said, his voice as broken as the window he last remembered.

Canopus was right along him, but, differently from him or the Sun and Moon's warm expressions, she looked melancholy.

Roman had always suspected she had feelings for Zeta.

He approached her and took her hand in his. « I'm sorry. It's m- »

« She did it to herself. » she admitted, before looking up. « It would've been worse if you lied to her only to please her. » she displayed a sad smile. « I would've hated you only on that occasion. It's okay, Roman. I'm going to be alright. »

Roman realized he had underestimated Canopus's strength, but he was grateful he did.

And now, the big moment.

« Where …? »

« Where you already know. »

Emile and Remy parted to let a path behind them, which was leading to two massive golden doors.

Roman paced towards them, wasting no time in fiddling with the handles as he pushed them open.

If he ever had to imagine what happened to stars when they died, he wished it was exactly like that.

That palace's terrace was much bigger than the one they last saw Emile on; Virgil was waiting, looking at the sunset take place in front of him in the distance, unaware of his system partner.

He only turned around as he heard Roman sigh in relief at his sight.

As much as he wanted to run to him instantly, he kept one hand on the parapet and simply looked fondly at him as Roman stepped towards him.

Roman took his free hand and leaned on the rails as well, taking one quick glance at the beauty of nature.

He made slow movements, trying to realize whether or not Virgil was real, before circling him with his arms around Virgil's waist.

« Still not scared? » he whispered it like a secret between them.

Virgil's cheeks had already lit up as soon as he exited the ballroom. « I won't ever be anymore. » he confessed, resting his forehead against Roman's.

And it was true.

At last, he wasn't scared to touch him anymore.

At last, there were no more secrets to be uncovered.

At last, they could dance together.

✾✾✾✾

Silence followed Janus's last words: he waited for reactions, but all he saw were the three's gazes fixed on the table, Thomas's mouth ajar, like he had just made the deepest revelation.

« I- » Thomas looked back at the storyteller. « I loved everything you said. I loved every single word you pronounced, holy stars! » he tried to compose himself. « This is incredible. Just- Listen, this is going to sound very sudden, but- Would you ever consider being a script-writer with me? We could work on this movie together, your way of talking- I'm sure it would be just as wonderful if you wrote all of that down. Your words are magnificent! »

Janus had met him to be able to talk to someone like him, and there he was, being offered one of the most astounding jobs in his life.

He was stunned.

Remus hit his hands on the table. « Absolutely! » he answered in his uncle's stead. « Please, join my uncle! »

« I- » Janus's face broke into a wide smile. « It can be arranged, yes. » he laughed slightly. « I would love to! » he almost didn't notice Logan's hand in his.

He didn't definitely notice the astronomer's affectionate gaze, feeling not only butterflies but an entire species of animals running in his stomach at the sight of Janus's excitement.

Oh, how he loved the way his face lit up, how his eyes glimmered bright even on a sunny day.

« Wonderful cause I have plenty of new ideas! I might even consider Remy and Emile somewhere … »

The conversation went on, but Logan wasn't able to hear anything else other than how melodious Janus's voice sounded all of a sudden.

Janus couldn't stop talking about it even after they arrived back at the apartment, barely able to exit his car while Remus had already gone up the stairs and opened the door to let himself in.

« I just- For the Moon, Logan! A scriptwriter! Beside a famous actor who used to reside in space! » he had taken Logan's hand in his own. « I'm simply blown away! »

They stopped at the beginning of the stairs.

« Gosh, this is all thanks to you. » Janus looked up at him, sparkles all around him as he smiled fondly.

Logan's heart couldn't have possibly been happier, finding the sight extremely endearing.

When had they started hugging? He was so lost in his gaze …

« Your eyes are always so bright and glowy and beautiful. »

Janus blinked twice, his expression shifting slightly.

« It's like I could recognize every single constellation in them. »

He raised his hands to rest them on Logan's cheeks and brush them with his thumbs. « I love you. »

Janus leaned in and kissed him. « I love you so much. » he whispered before the other kissed him back, slowly.

They exchanged more, resonating they could never have enough, until they heard someone call from above.

« Is Logan going to be my new uncle?! »

They parted and looked up, seeing an excited Remus run around in excitement.

« Holy sh- »

« I knew it. »

✾✾✾✾

It was the day of the premiere of Thomas and Janus's movie.

The two were sitting next to Logan and Remus on the front seats, delightfully waiting for it to finally air for everybody else in the world.

Remus watched Thomas unable to stay silent one minute, his uncles holding hands, as their engagement rings glimmered in the semi-dark room.

He thought back of what life was before Logan came around, before Janus had started telling him stories of the people he and his mother had encountered.

Never would he have thought he would have been sitting in front of a soon-to-be bestseller movie's first airing, nearly two years after, with a new relative he deeply loved and new friends like him.

He hadn't known nothing of the sky.

But now he did.

Remus took Logan's hand and both he and Janus looked down at him, a genuine and caring smile on their faces as Thomas's voice echoed with the opening of the movie.

« What is up everybody?! »

He finally knew everything he needed to know.

[let-me-write-shit]

Somebody To You: 13

Friendly reminder to please Like and/or Reblog. It helps more than you think! :)

Word Count: 3,028

Warning: ANGST!!!!!!

Click Here For Previous Chapter & Other Completed Stories

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

CHAPTER THIRTEEN:

Something about Friday nights at the bar always seemed to put Zoey in an energetic mood. As hectic as it got, there was always something new and exciting happening on the weekends. Groups of newly legal drinkers, bachelorette parties, rowdy swingers, there was always something. And the group of people she worked with on weekends only improved the fun. Andy was at his prime tonight, mixing and mingling with everyone that approached the bar while Brett flirted with all of the girls, Zoey was making everyone laugh, and a few other servers bounced around, as well. 

They had busy weekends down to a science by now, knowing where everyone was, what everyone would be doing, and reading the signs on when they might be able to take a quick break. This was, by far, the most organized bar she’d ever worked at. Zoey stepped out of the storage closet, carrying a box full of napkins when she bumped right into Brett.

“Whoa, if you wanted me to get on the floor for ya, all you needed to do was ask,” Brett grabbed his arm where the box had hit him as he stumbled backward, smirking. 

She could bet that he was so used to flirting for tips that it just came as second nature to him. Still, the idea of getting plowed by him in the closet right now seemed almost too good to pass up. Especially considering how Australian he sounded tonight. It’s been a minute. She smirked back, looking at him through her eyelashes, “Well, the closet’s free now if you want to meet me in there in five minutes?”

His eyes widened slightly before standing up straighter and stammering, “Oh, uh. Probably not a good idea right now, actually. It’s super busy out there. We can’t leave the others alone.”

“Oh, yeah. I was kidding,” Zoey laughed, blowing it off and countering, “I’m still out of a bedroom right now, otherwise I would invite you to spend the night.”

A week and a half ago after Zoey had gotten home from her date there was a pretty bad storm in LA. While she was on the phone with Harry, lightning had struck the top of their building and hit an electrical box that shut the power off on the top dozen floors of her building, including her unit. The electrical current that ran through her apartment had also caused their water heater to build too much pressure which made it burst, spilling water out of the utility closet and leaking into the hallways and the room closest to it, which happened to be Zoey’s room.

Luckily they were able to get the electricity back up rather quickly, but the damage had already been done. Water damaged the carpets, the underlayment, and the bottom of the walls. It even caused water damage to the ceiling in the unit below them. Thankfully the furniture was salvageable, and the building maintenance and property manager were very helpful in trying to get everything fixed and sorted for them, but it did take some time. They had to move all of Zoey’s furniture out of the room and into the living room to rip up all of the carpets, put holes at the bottom of the walls to get air circulation inside of the walls, and install dehumidifiers and drying fans around the back half of their apartment. It looked like a bomb had gone off in there, and because of this, they hadn’t had visitors over since.

He nodded, hesitantly admitting, “It’s okay. I have plans tonight, anyway.”

“Oh, nice. Another date?”

He paused, “Yeah, kind of.”

“Ooo,” she sang, teasingly, “Good luck. Hope they’re not as crazy as the last. How were her parents, by the way?”

He laughed, pushing her lightly, and walking away saying, “From now on I’ll have to mention it upfront. No parents on the first date.”

She continued on her way and began filling up the containers underneath the counter with napkins when Andy came over, smiling and lightly kicking her shoes as she crouched. Zoey looked up and grinned at her friend, pushing the box to the side and standing up, picking a piece of lint off of his shirt.

“I think Brett’s dating someone,” she told him.

Andy faked a frown and teased, “Awe. Are you sad ‘cuz your fuck buddy can’t fuck you anymore?”

She rolled her eyes, hip-checking him, “A little. He’s just being so sketchy about it. I don’t get why he can’t just be honest and tell me we can’t fuck anymore because he either doesn’t want to or because he’s seeing someone. Boys are annoying.”

Andy nodded, pursing his lip, “Girl, I get it. I don’t want to like boys, either. Shit sucks.”

When 1 AM rolled around, Zoey was exhausted. She made out pretty good tips, but she felt like she could have fallen asleep on the drive home. To her surprise, the living room lights were still on. Usually, Nancy and Aurora were in bed by now. They could have accidentally left it on. But just as the thought crossed her mind, a soft door closing and heels clicking caught her attention and she turned to see Rory stumbling in, gasping a little at the sight of Zoey.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” Zoey giggled, setting her bag down on the island.

Rory shook her head, her cute little mixed French and British accent squeaking, “It’s okay. I lost track of time. I should have known you’d be home soon.”

“Are you heading out?” Zoey noticed her roommate still fully dressed. Her eyes widened in realization, “Ohhhhh, are you going to Harry’s? I know he said he was thinking of coming home early, but I haven’t talked to him today, so I didn’t realize he did.”

Rory hesitated for a moment before stuttering, “Yeah, but it’s a quick visit. I’ll be back in the morning.”

Zoey nodded, yawning and dragging her feet over to the couch, “Have fun, you crazy kids!” she joked, plopping onto the sectional and muttering under her breath, “Can’t wait to have my bed back.”

“You can sleep in my bed tonight if you want. Since I won’t be here,” Aurora offered.

“Really? Thank you! Might actually be able to get a good night’s sleep tonight,” she grinned standing up.

Aurora paused for a moment before smiling back, putting her head down with a nod goodbye, and walking out the door. With another yawn, Zoey grabbed an oversized tee and a pair of sweatpants from the pile of her clothes in the corner of the living room, quickly changing, and headed towards Rory’s tidy white bedroom. 

Her roommate’s mattress had to be the most comfortable mattress she’d ever been on, by far. As soon as she hit the pillow, there was no stopping it. Not even her most nagging thoughts could keep her awake.

Zoey dreamed of life before all of this. Back to her boring Pennsylvania town with all of her boring adventureless memories. But not all of her memories were boring. She had a good life. It might not have been a fantasy life, but it was stable. She dreamt back to days with Jess, swimming in the pool, and nights with her ex-boyfriend, settling down after a long night’s shift at the bar. She’d be so exhausted that she’d practically crawl through the pitch dark apartment to find Michael already asleep in bed. She dreamt about how she’d climb into the bed beside him and he’d instinctively reach out and pull her closer to him, nuzzling his face into her shoulder to fall back asleep. She remembered that feeling of warmth and security encasing her as she drifted off to sleep.

Except that warmth and security wasn’t just a dream. As Zoey’s consciousness grew, she became more aware of the fact that there was someone in the bed with her, their arms wrapped around her stomach. Automatically her first thought was that Brett’s date must not have gone as well as he’d hoped. But she started to realize more and more that not only was she not in her bed, but the faint red glow on the inside of her eyelids told her that it was morning now, and the way this person’s arm rested across her side so comfortably, and the sweet, yet spicy scent of the person’s breath on the back of her neck was something she never encountered with Brett, who normally smelled of beer and stale peanuts. Zoey suddenly came-to, gasping and pushing herself away from the figure behind her, which caused them to sit up in a panic and gasp as well. 

“Harry? What the fuck are you doing here?” her vision barely came into focus.

“What am I doing here? What are you doing here? I thought you were Rory!” Harry’s eyes widened.

“Why the fuck would I be Rory?! Rory’s with you!” she shot back, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

Comprehension of what she just said smacked her in the face and she slowly took her hands from her face to get a good look at Harry’s face. She saw his expression range the emotions in a matter of seconds from confusion to realization, hurt, annoyance, and anger. Zoey sat up, eyes wider, holding her hands out and motioning for him to calm down. 

“Hang on a minute,” Zoey pleaded as he stood up, “I didn’t mean to say that, I was half asleep when I came home and you scared the shit out of me. I think I just misunderstood her last night.”

“I fucking knew it,” Harry ignored her, pacing the room, “I knew she was cheating.”

“Alright, now that’s a bit dramatic,” Zoey rolled her eyes, getting out of the bed, “You’re not dating yet, so let’s just relax. You don’t know where she is.”

“Where else would she be?” he shot back.

“Hello? She has other friends besides me and Nancy. Let’s not jump to conclusions. She said she would be back in the morning, let’s just make a cup of coffee. I’m sure she can straighten this out when she gets here and she’ll be so excited to see you.”

Under different circumstances, Zoey would have been excited to see Harry. But her head was pounding from the abrupt wake-up call that she honestly couldn’t figure out her sentiments just yet. She had to physically drag Harry out of the room and keep a hand on him at all times in an attempt to keep him grounded and from running off, whether it was her squeezing his arm, holding his hand, or grabbing his shoulders. He was so full of tension that it just barely worked.

They sipped their coffee at the kitchen island and Zoey did her best to distract him by asking about his final show and trying to talk about what he was going to do when he got back home to England, but it was no use. Harry’s eyes bore holes into the countertop gripped onto his mug so tightly that she was certain it would shatter any minute now when they heard the front door open. Harry instantly got to his feet, darting into view with Zoey at his heels, pulling him back by his wrists when Aurora walked in, her grin fading at the sight of them.

“Harry,” Rory breathed, taking a step back.

“Where were you?” He demanded, yanking his arm from Zoey.

Both girls recoiled, surprised by his tone and actions. Neither of them had ever seen Harry so angry before. It was completely out of character that it sent them both into a temporary loss for words. 

Zoey was the first to bounce back, giving Rory the biggest apologetic eyes she could muster, “I’m so sorry, Rory. I think there was just a misunderstanding. I thought you said you were going to Harry’s last night and I spoke before thinking. He’s just had a long flight, that’s all. I told him you were probably just with a friend and I misheard you.”

“I-” Rory stuttered, looking between the two, unsure of what to say.

“You were with Brett, weren’t you?” Harry accused, eyes glaring.

Zoey shot her head at Harry and gritted her teeth, “Would you stop it with the Brett thing? She wasn’t with Brett! You know him and I have a thing going on. Stop accusing her!”

But when she turned her attention back to Aurora, the color had drained from her face and her eyes glassed over. Zoey furrowed her brows as Rory’s gaze turned to her, pleading as she shot her hands over her mouth and let out a sob, tears finally spilling from her eyes, “Zoey, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to lie to you. It just happened. I swear this is the only time. I didn’t mean for this to happen. We were only planning on hanging out but one thing led to another. I’m so sorry!” she begged.

Zoey’s heart dropped at the sight of her friend and roommates anguish and guilt, trying to take everything in. All she could muster to say was, “Okay.”

“Okay?” Harry spat, “I fucking told you this would happen!” He turned his attention back to Rory who was still crying, “I came back here for you! I was going to ask you to be my girlfriend today! Instead, I come here to surprise you, find my best friend in your bed, and find out that you were sleeping with her boyfriend? What kind of person does that?”

His voice boomed so deeply that Zoey felt the vibrate in her chest with every syllable he spoke. It was so loud that it managed to wake Nancy, the heaviest of sleepers, who pitter-pattered down the hallway to see what all of the commotion was about. Zoey managed to squeak out a quick, “He’s not my boyfriend!” but no one heard over the screaming match that pursued. 

“Don’t you fucking dare try to insinuate I’m a whore! I’m not your fucking girlfriend! You had nearly half a year to ask me out and you didn’t! I told you I wasn’t going to sit around and wait forever!” Rory scowled at Harry. His jaw tightened with each word she hurled, “What was I supposed to think? You talk to my roommate you’ve only known for three months more than you talk to me! You fly back here just to spend time with her, you barely spoke to me that weekend except when you wanted to fuck! And that was only after you spent all day in her bedroom! You tell me what the fuck I was supposed to think!? How would you feel if I did that?!” Nancy softly took hold of Aurora’s arm to try and soothe the tension.

“Rory, I didn’t mean-” Zoey started, suddenly feeling guilty, but was cut off by Harry. 

“I was just trying to be a good friend! I told you that you had nothing to worry about! You knew Zoey was going through something and wasn’t in a good place! You saw her! Zoey’s been nothing but a good friend to you, so what are you even trying to say? First, you sleep with her boyfriend and now you’re accusing her of cheating with ME? You’re deflecting!”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Zoey spoke louder this time, but again it fell upon deaf ears as Rory spoke.

“I’m not accusing Zoey of anything!” she turned her attention towards her roommate, her eyes softening, “Zoey, I’m so sorry, I know nothing happened between you and Harry. And I would never do anything to try and hurt you. I promise I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“But it did happen, and I fucking said it would, didn’t I?” Harry, turned towards Zoey.

“Oh, you said it would happen?” Rory’s sarcasm dripped through her teeth like silk, “Congratulations! Once again, your instincts were correct! What do you want? A fucking medal? If you knew it would happen, why did you even come here?”

“Because I wanted to be with you!”

“If you wanted to be with me so fucking badly, why did it take you five months to figure it out?! You never really wanted me! I was just a convenience for you! That’s why you waited until the tour was over! You have nothing else to occupy your time with!”

“And that’s why you ran to fuck Zoey’s boyfriend, is it? Because he’s emotionally available for you?” Harry’s sarcasm intensifies.

“He’s not my fucking boyfriend!” Zoey screamed, standing in between them, causing the two to retreat, taking a step back. Zoey glowered back and forth between Harry and Aurora, frustrated at the disgusting display of animosity towards each other. She had half a mind to start screaming at them, but when she saw Nancy’s reassuring gaze, she took a breath and calmly reasoned, “Listen. Obviously, we all need to talk things out, but right now the tension is way too high and it’s way too early in the morning to think clearly. Let’s all just take some time to calm down.”

“How about I just go?” Harry retorted, pulling away from Zoey and storming towards the door.

Zoey watched him as he stomped to the door, shooting a glance at Nancy who mouthed, “Go.”

She quickly grabbed her phone and threw on the first pair of shoes she found before jogging towards the door. Rory grabbed her hand quickly, eyes still red and raw from crying. Her voice was so soft that it was barely a whisper, “Zoey. I’m so sorry.”

Zoey looked into the eyes of her roommate and it nearly broke her heart. She placed a hand over Rory’s and managed a sympathetic smile, “It’s okay,” she said, seeing the relief wash over Rory. “I’ll talk to him.”

Rory nodded and Zoey ran off, catching the elevator doors just before they closed and slipping in with a still fuming Harry. When the doors closed and the elevator began its descent, his arms jerked upwards, grabbing onto the back of his neck, doubling over as he shouted, “FUCK!” 

This should be fun.

KEEP READING

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

Taglist for Somebody To You:

@thurhomish​ , @stilljosiegrossie​ , @odetostep​

[toocool2btrue]

The Code Of Love...

The Code of love: Heartbreak is like a binary code. If you aren't the "one", you feel like a zero.

There wasn't a better statement to describe her sentiments as she watched from afar Lance wrapping his arm around Allura's shoulder and then pointing towards the sky. The Altean looked slightly puzzled but soon her face changed from confusion to awe as the dark sky suddenly lit up with bright colored fireworks which signaled the beginning of the new year. It was the first new year's eve the paladins were celebrating after the war but instead of attending the garrison party, they had gotten together for a more private event at Lance's family farm.

"Lonce, this is so beautiful" Allura whispered in delight. Lance chuckled, gratefully glancing in the direction of his friends who had been the ones to set up the fireworks before turning back to Allura, "Happy New Year.." he whispered, pulling her in for a kiss.

"Get a room!" Hunk teased as the rest of the group walked towards them. Allura blushed bright red but Lance smiled teasingly, "It's tradition big guy!" he stated, kissing his best friend's cheek while the rest laughed at the sight.

"Please refrain from applying this tradition on us" Keith teased and Lance playfully rolled his eyes at the statement. He was too happy to even be bothered by Keith. Staying true to the festivity he pulled Shiro in a bear hug, gave Keith a fist bump but as he reached out to hug Pidge, she backed away from his grasp. Lance blinked in surprise but she only gave him a tight lipped smile in response.

"Happy New Year" she whispered, before walking away from him. 

Lance briefly glanced at the rest of the group who were already busy in their own greetings to have noticed. He then looked back at Katie, who was now standing behind Shiro as if she wanted to hide behind the bigger man. 

"Lonce, thank you for the wonderful surprise!" Allura declared, wrapping her arms around his neck. Lance grinned in response, it felt great to know Allura's few days on earth had been worthwhile. "Anything for you, Allura" 

"Okay, I think that's our cue to leave" Hunk stated. Tomorrow Allura was going to leave for New Altea again so the group decided to give the couple some privacy. 

As the paladins quietly shuffled back to the house, Katie hugged herself in a vain attempt to provide herself with comfort. She regretted coming here, what was she even thinking? The entire time she had been here, she felt sick. The raging butterflies in her stomach made it difficult to swallow more than two bites of dinner and now she wanted nothing more to run back to the safety of her own home and curl in a warm blanket until the dreaded feeling went away.

She could feel Shiro's worried gaze on her but chose to ignore it, her pale cheeks slightly turning red in embarrassment, Shiro was well aware of her stupid pathetic crush and there was no one to blame for it but herself. After they came back to Earth, she had promised herself to do something about her hopeless crush and decided to consult Shiro on the matter. Well let's say the idea crashed and burned before it could be even executed.

Katie was very grateful that it did. She doesn't even want to imagine the pain she would have felt for mustering all her courage and putting her heart out on the line,only to be rejected and left heartbroken. Not to mention putting Lance in such an uncomfortable position. Katie softly nodded, sniffing back her troublesome tears. Everything was better this way. Her secret was safe, their friendship hadn't been affected and most importantly, Lance was happy beyond words. He wouldn't have ever been as happy with her as he was with Allura. Why did she even consider trying?

"Finally" Keith mumbled from beside her, snapping Katie out of her thoughts, she looked ahead to see they had already reached Lance's house. Shiro stopped walking, turning to Keith and Hunk, "You two go inside. I have an urgent garrison matter to discuss with Katie so we'll join you later"

"But it's New Year…" Hunk groaned while Keith remained silent. Shiro chuckled, "I know and I am sorry but it's important and I promise we won't take long" he promised, throwing a knowing look at Keith.

"Alright. See you guys soon" Keith agreed. Before Hunk could further protest, he dragged Hunk towards the house. She then turned towards Shiro with a grateful smile on her face, "Thank you so much. As much as I enjoy Lance's family, I am not in a mood to be interrogated for stories of him and Allura"

"Well it's a good thing that I came along with you because I don't remember any either" Shiro stated, softly chuckling. Even Katie managed to crack a small smile, the dreaded feeling in her chest slightly shrank.

"But all jokes aside. I just want to say that I admire the courage you showed today. I know it isn't easy but you still did come for the sake of the team and that was a very brave thing to do" Shiro whispered, patting her shoulder.

"What if I told you that I didn't want to be brave anymore" she responded, her voice slightly quivering. "I thought the more I see them together, the more quickly I might be able to move on and be happy for them like you guys are..but it doesn't seem to work that way" she mumbled. The whole time she had been here, she had wished to be in Allura's place, she had wished to be the one who Lance showered with affection and planned surprises for. As much as she hated to admit it, Katie was jealous of her friend's happiness and wanted it for herself.

"So what do you want to do?" Shiro asked. Katie sharply inhaled, hugging herself once again. This might have been so much easier if she could just hate Allura but that wasn't possible, Allura was one of her dearest friends who had already lost so much to the war and was finally happy after so many hardships. She couldn't hate Lance either, he was still a good friend to her and the only crime he had committed was loving Allura instead of her. She knew well enough that in the matters of the heart everyone was blameless but Katie also knew that she herself couldn't go on like this, she couldn't bear to purposely hurt herself again and again like this and neither wanted to pretend to act happy or supportive of them anymore. She hated this insincere side of her.

"This was the last time" Katie mumbled. "I don't have it in me to carry on with this..whatever this is. They deserve a better, more genuine friend than me but I can't be so I think it would be best for all of us involved if I took a step back" 

"Katie-" Shiro started but was stopped by her. "Don't worry I will be present on all the formal events and meetings, we don't need any stupid rumours circulating...but other than that I would like to keep my distance and I hope you support me in this decision" 

"If this is what you want. Then you have my full support. I just want you to be happy" Shiro responded. "Thank you" she whispered gratefully, hugging the former black paladin.

Distant cries of celebration and fireworks filled the air. Katie's only wish for the new year was that her feelings for Lance like fireworks would forever disappear.

I am sorry for the sudden angst. I hope you liked it. Please Reblog if you enjoyed it. Ps: I didn't come up with the binary code statement, I found it on the internet 😅😅😅

[death---dealer]

Queen Guys + Snow.

So, it’s snowing pretty hard where I am and thought, “huh, little imagines about what the guys remind me of with snow would be cute!!” So, this marks my official return to writing. Hope you guys enjoy!! Reblogs and likes are always appreciated, thanks for reading!

John Deacon. - Staying inside, drinking tea and watching it snow outside.

The whistling sound of the tea kettle in the kitchen seemed to take you out of your snow-day haze, your eyes having been previously captivated by the immaculate color of of your love’s. That grey-green mixture, that in this sort of weather, looked more grey than anything else with that jaded green circulating more visibly around his darkened and dilated pupils. How you could swim in them, you thought to yourself and finally managed to snuggle yourself out of your warm spot on the couch next to John, the knowledge that he didn’t want you to get up evident in the way that his fingers seemed to trail after yours as you stood up, the longing in his body that he was now missing your warmth and the simple parting of his lips as if to call out your name as your socked feet began trailing away towards the kitchen, taking one look out the window to the left. It was still snowing as it was this morning which had spurred the decision to not go out and to enjoy the day together. Whether it was a decision or an excuse just to spend more time with one another due to John’s hectic schedule with Queen, you weren’t in a place to complain as you dug two mis-matched tea cups from the cupboard and began preparing tea.  

You watched the steam rise from the cups as the water was poured out of the kettle and with a deep breath, a smile spread against your face. Familiar arms had wrapped themselves around you, a chin resting comfortably against your shoulder and those striking eyes watching as your fingers played with the paper end on the tea bag string. “I thought you were going to keep our spot on the couch warm.” There was a faux complaining tone to your voice as if you were mocking him that now the couch was going to be cold by the time you returned with your tea. 

“Hm,” John laughed, you could feel the puff of his breath, mixed with the smell of cigarettes lingering to his tongue. “I got lonely watching the snow all by my lonesome, you should know better than to leave me by myself.”

There was a sort of silence that filtered into the air that only happened when it snowed. Somewhat stoic in nature, but it wasn’t a bother. It was as if, at this very moment, you were outside in the middle of the field with the snow coming down on the two of you, getting caught in your hair, on your clothes but there was still such a sense of warmth as John pressed himself against you properly. 

It was your turn to chuckle as you dipped your head down to let John kiss the back of your neck. “You leave me for months while you’re on tour. What’s so different about today?” “Well, it’s snowing,” He used his hands around your waist to turn you around, pushing you against the counter lightly so he didn’t fumble and cause the tea to spill down the counters. John’s slightly calloused hands rested on the small of your back to keep you arching towards him, though admittedly, if you weren’t being held there you would still voluntarily arch towards him and not because of the chill the snow was causing from the small window above the sink. “You’re right here, and I’m right here...”

“Is this a mathematics lesson, Deaky, or is there a point?” You crinkled your nose teasingly as he leaned inwards and peppered the slightest bit of a kiss against your lips, just enough to melt away your playful nature into something more intimate, something more... Well rounded. Hair tickling your face as he kept his face close to yours, instinctively you found your arms wrapping around his neck. 

“I think, my love,” John’s voice had dropped an octave, something incredibly noticeable as he usually talked light and nasally, that being endearing in its own right. And while this tone was endearing, it also oozed something that was a bit more suggestive and your ears perked up at the prospect.  “It may just be a lesson of opportunity. Are we not alone? All,” You gasped gently when John took it upon himself to dive his hands further down so he could lightly grope your backside. “alone. Snowed in, it does seem. Perhaps we should take advantage of that. Keep each other warm, something along that nature.”

“Deaky.” The sound of your voice was appalled, but John could tell that it wasn’t what you were truly feeling. It was said to tease him once again, to tease him for wanting to have sex, teasing him for going around it in such a coy and impressionable fashion. It was sensual, adding to the fact that you were indeed already wearing one of his sweaters, socks that didn’t match and it would be easy for him to have his way with you on the couch, or even against the counter if you allowed him. These prospects were things that had already gone through his mind. “If it’s for the sake of keeping each other warm, then I suppose that would be...” “Beneficial?” He offered.

“In more ways than one.”

Roger Taylor. - Snow caught in eyelashes and then being kissed away. 

“I bloody hate the cold.” You heard Roger murmur next to you as he blew hot air onto his fingertips before resuming his previous position of his arm around your waist to keep you close for the sake of warmth. And also to hold onto you so if he did slip on ice, he would inevitably bring you down with him. But, the joke was on him. If you were to fall, you’d drag him down with you as well and the two of you would end up in the snow-clad ground below, colder than you were now but no doubt laughing about the situation as he’d dive down to kiss you, claiming it was a perfect opportunity to do such a thing. But, to Roger, every chance to kiss you was perfect and you weren’t going to tell him wrong. “It’s not the snow that I mind, just the cold.” Roger tacked that on to his previous statement, almost going cross eyed as he looked as his breath evident in the bitter air that was swirling snowflakes around the two of you like some Renaissance painting. 

“You don’t like the snow, either.” You noted, taking a second to glance up at him as the two of you walked down a nearly abandoned street towards your flat. The streetlights seemed to illuminate Roger’s face, sculpting and accentuating the features you had grown to love, the lines on his face that you happily traced in the early mornings, even when his blond hair would stick to the side of his cheek. “It gets caught in your hair and makes it frizz up.”

With comedic timing, you watched Roger’s mouth fly open, his free hand raising to pat the melting snow on the top of his head. “No it doesn’t! Lord, does it? I don’t want to go to your flat and have my hair dry and make me look like Deaky when he’s waken up on the wrong side of the bed.”

“Deaks is cute when he looks like a puff ball.” You defended the bassist with a smile, a hand near your head to mock frizzy hair and pushing your boyfriend playfully for poking fun at John. Roger gasped, as if offended by your action and took it upon himself to tug you even closer to him directly under a streetlamp, finally giving you the innate chance to look up into Roger’s bitter ice eyes that seemed to resemble icicles at this very moment. “Well, he does! I can’t deny it. You. You look like a q-tip.”

“I can’t believe what I’m hearing.” Roger licked his lips, his eyes narrowing down on your face and it was then that you realized something you hadn’t seen before hand. While snow surely got caught in your hair, Roger had long eyelashes that made nearly every envious off the bat. They were thick and long and framed his beautiful eyes perfectly. Your lips parted and you cupped the side of his face ultimately causing Roger to soften against you, the fake ridged nature of ‘jealously’ leaving his body immediately as you had always had that affect on him. “Sure, he looks cute, but I’m...”

“There’s snow on your lashes.” You cut him off suddenly, somewhat aware that you had but with not regret. Roger blinked, now taking notice of the wet, cold nature against his cheekbones as you had mentioned it. He, in the dim light of the streetlamp as the snow trickled down, looked like an actual angel. So gentle he was holding the small of your back, but so possessively to let you know that he had no intention of letting you go. 

“You’re right,” Roger nodded, leaning towards you and pressing his forehead against yours, “Do you want them? I’ll give them to you.” “The lashes or the snow?” You laughed.

“The snow, the lashes stay. What kind of freak are you to want my eyelashes?” “A big freak, I suppose.” Roger cackled, giving you that beautiful half-smile as you kissed his lips, and then dragged him down by his shoulders to kiss his eyelids, enjoying the sensation as Roger complied and let his eyes fall shut for you. 

“Well, tell me. Would you like me to pluck them out for you?”

“No. It’s giving me reason to kiss you.” You kissed his nose, “Also, offering to pluck your eyelashes out for me. Very romantic, Rog. I’m swooning.”

Brian May. - Lending you his scarf so you don’t get too cold. 

It wasn’t your intention to stay out so late at a small cafe, but alas, there you were, standing up from a booth after Brian May had rested money down on the table to pay, tugging on your jacket and staring at him with mild curiosity. You wondered what he was going to do now that the majority of his night had been spent with you, chatting as if years hadn’t passed since you two have seen each other when you went to college. He was big now--- physically, sure. He had always been a lanky boy, attractive and kind to you but it was also professionally. To be a guitarist in a band and that band being Queen? Unimaginable, and he described it as such, you recalled, your eyes scanning his fingers as he tugged his scarf around his slender neck, giving you a small, slight smile. 

“Do you live ‘round? I’d love to walk you home.”

“You don’t need to.” The smile you gave was polite in nature but it also told Brian that you wouldn’t mind spending a bit more time with him, you wouldn’t mind him walking you to your flat with the prospect of inviting him in for a cup of tea. “It’s snowing and all, I don’t want---” “But,” Brian bit his bottom lip to keep himself reserved, to perhaps, keep himself from bursting out the seams at the coincidence that he had run into you, his college crush and now had the chance to walk you home. He wanted to pounce. “I insist. You’ve given me splendid company this evening, let me return the favor.”

A part of you wanted to remind him that he had just paid for your meals but another part of you kept quiet about it. You were craving more time with him and were willing to let him walk you home. “Alright, then. But, you’ve got to let me treat you to a cup of tea when we get there, it’s freezing outside.” “I believe it’s snowing, actually.” Your lips pressed together as he gestured you towards the door and much to your distaste, it was indeed snowing. And not the light and cute snow, but the heavy and blizzard like that was going to be walking home fun. Luckily, you were going to be walking in the opposite way that the wind was blowing, or so it seemed. 

“You’re right.” You murmured in complete distaste. “We can’t just stay here until it subsides?” “That might be some time, and while this is a 24 hour cafe, I doubt they’d enjoy us sleeping in the booths.” Brian raised his eyebrows and reached up, pulling the soft-appearing scarf from around his neck and rather sloppily wrapping it around your neck. For working with his hands as often as he did, Brian seemed nervous with the action and fumbled to get the fabric straight which earned him a sweet laugh from you as you gave him some help and tangled your fingers around with his to fix the scarf. “That was intensely more romantic in my mind, I do apologize.” “Don’t.” You nuzzled your face into the fabric and took a deep breath in, almost imagining the fact that Brian could have placed his lips in the very same spot before. “Thanks for lending it to me. We’re not even outside yet.” “Well, you do see... I was hoping to get ahead. Give the girl a scarf, get a kiss in return and then a cup of tea at your flat.” 

“A man with a plan.” You giggled.

“Roger’s plan, actually.” You raised your eyebrows before laughing harder than you had before. You remembered Roger and knew that they were still friends and in the band together. It just astounded you that Brian was willing to take Roger’s advice when it came down to girls when in college, Roger’s advice rarely got Brian any luck. 

“How about we start with the scarf? Which, you’re most likely not going to get back from a while.” “I---” Brian seemed flabbergasted at that before his face broke out into a grin, “I wouldn’t mind you keeping it. So long as when it’s returned, it smells like you.”

[unto-myself-together]

Of Stories and Songs: Ch 8

A lot of author notes, I know, but there’s no avoiding that.  A TON of stuff happens in this chapter. 

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Author notes: I really REALLY need to stop making long chapters.  22 pages!  Like I never get them out and I get “fatigued” or something when I make them super long like this. I also wouldn’t have to make such long author notes. 

Inb4 my family thinks I’m creepy for breathing into my phone while recording.

I actually couldn’t figure out how to get the audio files off my phone, but you’re really not missing much anyways.  Just when you get to the part of the story, take a deep breath in and listen to how it sounds when you take a deep breath in.  Change it up by changing how fast you breath the air in, and listen.  Yes, that was exactly what I was going for.  

Character names and the Imagineers they were named after:

Claude = Claude Coates Michael Davis = Mark Davis Karen Anderson = Ken Anderson Solomon Gracey= Yale Gracey Rolly Mortimer= Rolly Crump The Atencio company = X Atencio Nell is named after the main character of the Haunting of Hill House *(as well as named after the author of that story).  And Galloway isn’t anything important or a reference; it just sounded cool at the time. 

Yes, I did indeed try to draw that creepy hand that passes over the grandfather clock.  I’m sad it didn’t turn out quite right, but I dislike the act of drawing too much to actually bother fixing that piece up. 

“Closing your eyes” : When I was young, my mother would always close my eyes when the Ghost Host would show his body hanging from the rafters.  I thought she did it because I was afraid of the thunder and lightning, and she was known to hold my eyes whenever something I found scary happened on other rides.  Even though thunder is a SOUND and not a sight, it did feel comforting to have her put her hands over my eyes anyways.  It took me a long, long time to figure out the real reason she closed my eyes was because she didn’t want me to see the hanged man.  Part of that was because I didn’t know it was a hanged man, even when I had a chance to look at it.  It just looked like a weird clump of clothes hanging from the ceiling. So I guess in some ways, she didn’t even need to hold my eyes close to begin with (because I would not have known even if I looked at it); but I still appreciated that she went through the effort. 

The idea of three people creepily coming closer and closer to you after having cornered you is kind of what I imagined the Cast Members would totally do to guests that don’t listen and leave the ride vehicles without permission.  You know...if security didn’t have to be involved and they were allowed to be theatrical.  

So in the actual ride, there are TWO stretching rooms for all Haunted Mansion locations.  In WDW, they exist on either side of the Aging Man portrait. They are exactly identical, and I always thought it would be fun to imagine that they are the EXACT same room, and that the house just moves rooms around. 

The door hidden in the darkness of the foyer is an actual door in WDW that I’ve been through.  It connects to the small pet cemetery area right outside the exit doors of the ride. I’ve been through it before and it was totally awesome; might talk about it in another post. 

There are actually two versions of Nell; the one in this story and the one that I roleplay.  For all intents and purposes, they have the exact same personality, likes, and etc, but they just have different backstories and reasons for being at the mansion.  In case anyone was confused.

I struggled, for a long time, to figure out what year this story ought to take in (as in, what year the two teens come to the mansion).  There are benefits and downsides to both “modern era” and 1960s, the two time periods I considered.  On the one hand, the 1960s could avoid the idea of under age drinking because the age was 18 back then (in the state of Virginia).  The reason why I mention this is because there was a plot point that I...really don’t want to have to avoid all because the main characters don’t drink.  I think I pretty much solved this dilemma in this chapter though, without underage drinking (even if I had to do so in a bit of an unrealistic way, sorry about that). Additionally, there would be no cell phones 1960s to ruin the story (as they call for help).  On the other hand, it also means I cannot use modern day slang, ideas, memes, and etc....I think I’ve decided to kind of....let this story be in the modern day....possibly.  I don’t know, I just might change my mind later.  The struggle is real. 

I may have forgotten a few author notes, in which case I apologize beforehand. 

FINALLY, I dedicate this chapter to my dear friend, @asktheghosthost .  Thank you for always listening, thank you for all the good times and good stories we’ve made together, thank you for reblogging these story chapters, thank you for pulling me back in the Haunted Mansion fandom...and thank you for helping to inspire this story.   

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Trigger warnings: ghosts, death concepts/discussions, murder, suicide, abuse, blood, lots of scary stuff (horror), implied sexual abuse, cursing (damn and hell), drug abuse, domestic violence, attempted rape (never completed; in a later chapter).

This chapter: underage drinking (except not really.  You’ll understand when you get to it)

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Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 ,

Chapter 6 , Chapter 7

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CH 8:  Dust and Ashes

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All of my life I spent searching the words of poets and saints and prophets and kings

~ Now at the end all I know that I've learned is that all that I know is I don't know a thing

~Dust and Ashes, from Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812.  

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Karen pulled the blanket closer to her as they descended downward.  It was warmer in the stairway, but only just so; the more they descended, the closer the temperature got to the frigid room she’d woken up in previously.

“…Mr. Mortimer…I’m confused.”

“I can’t blame you none for that.  I’d probably be the same, were I in your shoes.”

He kept pace beside her, his cane ticking with every step.

“What I meant was: Why are we going down?  Shouldn’t we be going up?”

“We’re already up as high as we can get, young’un.  Nowhere for us to go but down.”

“Wha--?”

She stopped, and Mr. Mortimer’s cane clicked to a halt as he, too, stopped a little ways in front of her.

“Where was that?  The place we were before with all the junk?”

“That would be the attic.”

Karen considered this.

“Mr. Mortimer…why…did you go through all the trouble of carrying me up to the attic?  What was the point if we just have to climb all the way down again?”

Mr. Mortimer chuckled, his gold teeth glistening in the act.  The warmth of his tone, however, hardly made the sight terrifying.  

“I certainly would not have gone through the trouble of gettin’ a living body all the way to the attic…You were already nearby.”

She gaped at him, trying to keep up with his logic.

“But I fell down a chasm of staircases…”

“No, you fell up a chasm of staircases.”

“That’s not even physically possible!”

“Talking about the physical in a house of ghosts, hmm?  Trust me, young’un.  Those sets of staircases you’ve been hanging about in are the very opposite of possible. Don’t think too hard about it, as it doesn’t make much sense even to us.”

He gestured for the two of them to continue, and she numbly caught up to his pace.  

“If I…”  She adjusted the blanket as they walked side by side. “…If I had fallen all the way…”

He frowned.  “…Best not think of things like that.  Won’t do nothing but worry yourself.”

She gave him a startled look, and he returned it with solemn nod.  

She went quiet again for a bit, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other.  This stairway, at least, seemed to be relatively normal.  Contained on all sides by walls, yet the rickety nature of it still threatened to trip her should she neglect to watch her step.  Tiny spiders crawled along one of the walls. Tiny red spots on their backs that made them look like drops of blood circulating around them.  

“…I’m sorry I didn’t say it before but…Thank you for saving me, Mr. Mortimer…”

“I’m afraid I can’t take all the thanks, young’un.  Because I’m not the one who stopped yer fall.”

“Then who did?”

Mr. Mortimer paused again, and his gaze followed the trail of spiders.  

All of them, the exact same appearance.  All of them, traveling the exact same lines.  Single Filed.   Mindless and unnatural.  

“Are those really spiders?”  Instantly, she regretted the question, just as she was sure she’d regret the answer.

He sighed.  “No.  They aren’t. But that’s a right hard topic to talk about, and I ain’t too sure it’s my place to say.  We better press on.”

His tone suggested that he’d prefer a change in subject, and his cane clacked as he continued forward again.

But Karen lingered a while by the spiders, watching them go from one end of the wall to the other. Black beady bodies with bright red spots each.  A larger one was lingering above the traveling group with the same shade on its hairy exoskeleton as all the rest.  

She looked from the tiny creatures lining the wall to the little bites that still lined her hand. These had to have been the same sort of spiders that fixed the window…and the floor…and attacked her for trying to interfere with their work.  

The spiders stopped.  Unanimously and simultaneously, they all turned towards her and lifted up their front two legs.  

She took a startled step backwards.  

“I’m sorry!”  She said, wondering if they actually understood her.  Her legs compelled her on to catch up to Mr. Mortimer, and a quick glance behind her told her that the spiders resumed their mindless trek once again.  

“They’re so creepy…” She muttered as she was once again beside him.  

“That they are,” The skeletal Mr. Mortimer said.  

“Have they always been part of the house?”

“As far as I’m aware. Mr. Gracey told me he remembered seeing some of them back when he was alive, though it’s difficult to say whether they’d been upkeepin’ the house back then the way they do now.”

“How could he…not remember whether there were strange spiders rebuilding the house from underneath his feet?”

Mr. Mortimer gave a snorted laugh.  “If you ever meet Mr. Gracey, I think you’d do well to keep that comment to yerself.”

“I already have, and I already think he doesn’t like me.”

Mr. Mortimer raised an eyebrow at her.  “Oh? Why do you say that?”

“He was just…”  

She thought back to all the memories she had of Solomon Gracey, and the contrast it stood to her own personal experience meeting him.  The resulting earthquake he seemed to summon right then and there in the hallway.  

“…Really grumpy.”  She settled on that, although it seemed a severe understatement.  

“Likely was just angry with that Mr. Claude.  He assumes all mortals that come this way are the result of that man luring them here. And he’s usually right.”

“Mr. Claude?”

“Ah...”  He tutted to himself.  “Sorry.  Tried to remember not to call him that around you; I don’t think he likes the mortals using that name.  But you would know him to be the self-proclaimed ‘Ghost Host’.”

Karen tightened the blanket around herself.  “He has a name?”  

“Just the one.  No surname, no title names, no family names. Just Claude.  Doubt it’s even his real name, the wretch does like his little nicknames, but it’s the only one he’s ever given us to address him.”

The Ghost Host, imagined as a once real and living person.  Even in the one memory where she saw him as a mortal, it was hard to think of him as human. Having something of a name attached to him did almost nothing to wave away the inherent ethereal nature of his existence.  In fact, it almost felt…discomforting that he should have a name at all.

“Him and Mr. Gracey didn’t much like each other even way back when,” Mr. Mortimer continued, “And their fightin’ didn’t get any better in death either.  If anything, it got worse.  Sometimes see them go at each other’s throats like starving bears maulin’ each other over a fresh kill.”  

They stopped at a landing, and Mr. Mortimer opened up the door into another hallway.  

“As it happens, Mr. Claude is the one who likes to lure in unsuspectin’ mortals, and occasionally shows them off to Mr. Gracey because the ol’ wretch knows it will get the master of the house right and proper pissed at him.  Mr. Gracey doesn’t approve o’ tricking mortals into the house, you see. It’s all a lot o’ prime entertainment for Claude. ”

“So Mr. Gracey isn’t really angry at me, then?”

“I’m sure he’s a bit peeved. Mortals shouldn’t hang about here. They can get themselves hurt, and there ain’t much of a good reason for them to be fraternizing with the dead. Leads to all sorts of things, like ghost hunters and….not so good expectations about what it means to die. So I can’t say he’s much happy that you’re here.  But he’s a right sort, a good man, and even though he’s a little, as you say,…”

He gave her an aside, his sea green eyes glittering at her as he smiled.  

“…Grumpy, he won’t hesitate to help you if you’re in need of it.”

They wandered down a hallway that she could only describe as splattered with crimson; red carpets all across the floor, red wallpaper with a strange floral design, and even the lights seem to glow a bit red.  Or maybe that last was simply a trick of the eye.  

Mr. Mortimer suddenly slowed his pace, and as she peered at him she could see his ghostly brow furrowed in concentration.  

“Speaking of, young ‘un…”

The sound of the wind drifted through the halls; strange as it was since there were no apparent windows about.  

“….If anything should happen to me, you’ll need to go and find Solomon.  The wretch Claude will try to stop you, he’ll try to throw illusions to make you go his way, and you’ll need to swallow your fear and go down the scariest looking path to find Solomon. Solomon will help you.”

She was staring at him. “What….do you mean….?”

His eyes squinted; they looked off into the hallway and did not pay her heed “…It seems the wretch is about…Might be comin’ our way…”

“You can tell?”  She tried to look down the hallway as well, but could see nothing out of place.  It got colder; the wind shifted to breeze past her.  

He shifted the hatbox to his cane hand so that he could grab her arm.  

“Quickly now, young’un.” He said, pulling her along back the way they came. “We best be making our way back to the attic.”

“But why?”

“He never goes into the attic.”

And Mr. Mortimer left it at that, a note of finality in his tone that assured her he was not going to give her any other explanation.  

They made their way, at a much quicker pace, down the red rimmed hallway again and back into the stairwell.  He urged her to go up the stairs two at a time, a frantic pace that she was sure she wouldn’t have managed if he had not kindly helped pull up her weight with him. But even as they made it up their way up floors, the stairs seemed dauntingly and sadistically too tall.  

“Can’t understand why he’s this dogged insistent…  Plenty o’ mortals, psychic and not, have come by before and he never seemed this obsessed…What’s different here…?  If I had known…if I had known…Ah, what a fool ya are, Rolly…” Mr. Mortimer muttered to himself.  “Should have kept her in the attic, ya should…”

They made it to their third landing, before she suddenly buckled; an eerie, freezing sensation traced her spine and filled her with dread.  And almost immediately as the feeling came, Mr. Mortimer spun her behind him and….

…And he was thrown against the wall.  

She never saw it coming, for there was nothing to see.  The invisible entity rammed the greenish hued Mortimer up against the wood of the stairwell; she could see Mr. Mortimer struggling against it, his “body” glowing and misaligning and fading a bit as he fought.  She clenched her ears at the horrifying sound it seemed to produce, a cross between a woman screaming, a metal screw turning, and a set of nails rippling down a dry chalkboard.  It penetrated her head.  

Mr. Mortimer seemed to throw his attacker off him, as his feet were then on the floor.  His glow sputtered as he slammed his cane onto the floor in an effortful movement; the screaming chalkboard sound returned again and she stumbled against the wall to hold herself up.  

But it did not seem to last long.  Mr. Mortimer was back and pinned against the wall again, his glowing form turning to glowing fog, and the glowing fog obscuring her from seeing him properly.  

Until the fog cleared, but there was no sign of Mr. Mortimer.  

There was a painting of him instead.  

“Mr…”  She gulped his name back down, afraid of what she was seeing. Her hand shakily reached up to touch the elaborate frame of the perfectly painted portrait of the man who had just been beside her.  

               “Crying for the dead is encouraged in this house.”

There was a twinge of anger that she couldn’t just brush away as she turned to the empty air.  

“What did you do to him?!”

          “Don’t feel so bad. It isn’t as though I killed him.  Merely punished for                                        trying to kidnap you away from me.”

“He wasn’t kidnapping me!”

                “Oh but that is precisely why I have to frame him for it…                       Ahmmh mhmm hmmm ha ha haaaa HA!”

She went back to the portrait.  Mr. Mortimer’s jaw seemed clenched in anger, his eyes glowering.

“Young….un….”  She was surprised to hear a whisper coming from it, barely audible over Claude laughing over his own stupid joke.  

“Solomon…..find….run….harder….to….catch….moving target…”

“But….what about you?” She whispered back.

The edged colors around his face seemed to soften a bit.  “I…am...fine…”

She looked back at the open air; the damnable voice was still laughing as though his greatest enjoyment was to hear himself.  

A quick adjustment of the blanket…Karen took a deep breath….then charged right through the nearby landing’s doorway.  

The Ghost Host stopped laughing.  “Oh? Are we playing the running game now? A bit of cat and mouse?  What fun.”

She spun around the corner of the doorway, but was pulled back for a moment by an invisible force of vice-like cold.  She struggled a moment, trying to twist it off her, before finally shoving off the blanket towards her attacker.  

A tall figure.  

The blanket outlined against a tall figure, where there had previously been nothing before.  Its head was bent in a sickening angle, like the neck had been broken. 

But she did not give herself a pause to absorb this; the grip on her had loosened and she took the opportunity to bolt down the hallway.  

Red carpet, red walls, and as she propelled herself forward, her lungs drinking air, little spider spots came pouring down from the corner edges of the hall.  First in a sprinkling, then in buckets as she traveled onwards.

Mostly, they spilled over the walls themselves, but a few occasionally dropped down from the middle of the ceiling and landed on her head.  She brushed them off, again and again.

Her feet came to a halt at the junction, and her heart skipped a beat to see that one of her optional paths involved statues.  A LOT of statues.  The same kind of statue that had chased her before.  But this path had a whole horde of them, scattered all the way into the darkness of the furthest she could see.  

The other path looked clear.

He’ll try to throw illusions to make you go his way.

Mr. Mortimer’s words rang in the back of her head and she balked.  How was she to know whether this were an illusion or a genuine herd of statue ghosts?  

The shadow of a clawed hand, The Ghost Host’s distinctive chuckle phased in around her.  The shadow claw circled her like a shark, twitching its fingers in anticipation of a single mistake on her part.  

Karen cursed under her breath; not just directed at the Ghost Host, but herself.  For the next thing she knew her adrenaline had already made the choice to charge.  Straight into the hallway of statues.  

It took a few ticks for her mind to catch up with her; the moment she thought this choice wasn’t a bad one after all was on the heels of the moment she noticed the statues were turning to face her.  Grinding sounds of stone on wood and fifty pairs of stone weary eyes straight on her. She dipped and dodged around them, too scared to look back to see if claw hand or statue was following.  

But she could feel them all pressing in around her.  The sounds of scraping surrounding her...then one of her arms got caught. She managed to wretch it away.  

But it happened again….and again…And until the other arm was snagged…and then her waist….her legs…stone hands grabbing her neck…her head….pulling her down with them….the restraints too strong…

She turned to look down the hallway to a vanishing freedom…took a deep breath as much as the stone arms would allow…And yelled:  

“SOLOMON GRACEY!”

The statues froze in their grasp of her.  No longer did they push to pull her to the ground.

And she swore she heard, to her great satisfaction, a grunt of annoyance coming from her long-standing invisible tormentor.  Anything that annoyed the Ghost Host couldn’t possibly be a bad idea.

Sure enough, the walls began to shake.  Vases on nearby corner tables toppled over, specks of dust trickled down from the ceiling. That sickening, cold spine feeling that she was beginning to associate with the Ghost Host began to dissipate…..and the statues started dissipating with it.  One by one, as the earthquake rippled across the hall their forms smudged like a blurry photograph, before disappearing altogether.  

Her body was released and she fell to the floor with a thud.  The feel of rough stone was replaced….with a distinct taste of licorice. She swallowed to try and get the strange, sudden taste from her mouth, but it persisted.  And the earthquake slowly died down.

She was alone and it was fantastically quiet.  

“You…”  A whisper on the air breathed.  She looked up, only to distressingly find a pair of vivid, blue glints glaring down at her from the darkness of the far hall.  

“You shouldn’t be here…” It continued, blue eyes moving towards her.    

It sounded like someone taking in a long, deep breath.  

And there was dust and ash.

Dust and ash….

It was like dust and ash….

Swirling together….coalescing….combining….until she could make out a face….a mouth….a nose….from the dust and ash came also the sleeves of a suit….a hand formed from the particles….legs….a person….

An angry person. A furious person.  

The breath sound that lingered on the wind exhaled just as he was fully realized.

Though she had been rooted in the spot, in awe of watching a ghost forming himself in front of her, her adrenaline was still strongly beating in her veins.  And it was this drive that caused her to stumble back, a frantic yearning to run screaming in her head.  

As he advanced even closer to her, that internal screaming fueled her into dashing down the other hallway.

A candelabra blocked her way.  A floating candelabra.  

Another sound like someone taking a deep breath in….Dust and ash swirled around the candlesticks, the smell of roses, the wax dripping alongside the specks, until the figure of a woman appeared.  Grey eyes, black hair, green dress; the head maid from the memories.  

The breath exhaled.

She, too, advanced towards Karen, candelabra in her now mostly formed, dust dripping hand.

“P-please…” Karen stammered. But she herself wasn’t quite sure what she wanted to ask for.  

Her feet took her down the last hallway, only to be cut off by a third figure.

Deep breath.

Dust and ash…

Dust and ash swirled once more, and a man in a green suite formed.  Birds chirping.  The breath exhaling…The dust settling off his shoulders as he guarded her final escape route and proceeded forward towards her.  

Trapped on all sides. The master from the left, the head maid from the front, and the head butler from the right all converging on to her location, one step after another.  A marked pace that noted they had all the time in the world to reach her.

And what would they do once they’ve accomplished this? She pressed her back against the wall, sliding gradually down to the ground as her head whipped from one of the trio to the other and the other.  Her breath heaving in her ears.  From Mr. Mortimer’s descriptions, she had imagined something much friendlier.  Than again, she also had never imagined Mr. Mortimer was dead.  

“No more running,” Mr. Gracey said with a sneer.

Right as she could see the hem of the maid’s dress a few feet from her eyes, she shut them tight. Waiting for…something to happen.  The uncomfortable nothing that followed made her squint her eyes open once more.  

They were just standing there.  Waiting.

“You...really don’t need to do that….” Mr. Gracey said, frowning down at her.  

“Do….what?” She breathed, finally releasing the breath she’d been holding in.

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Act as though you’re about to face your own execution.”

“Well how am I supposed to react then?!  You make a show of…of forming yourself all angry like that and just…”  She stammered.  Her nerves were too frazzled for this.  “I only just avoided a bunch of statues grabbing me and…!  And that Ghost Host taunting me and….and the running and…and earthquakes…”

She looked up at him again with the strongest glare she could muster.  Solomon looked unimpressed.

“I don’t care what Mr. Mortimer says about you.  You could have at least told me what you’re going to do to me after you finish chasing me!  I don’t know what you want!”  

“What I want is for you to leave my house.”

She gave a side glance to his posse before turning back to him.  “Alive or dead?”  She said, with no small amount of sarcasm in it.  

“Considering that dead would result in you NOT leaving my house, I would assume you already have your answer,” he said, the sarcasm almost as equally strong.  

She exhaled through her nose. “Then you could have just told me that like a normal person!”  

“Honestly, all of you dead people don’t even remember how to act nicely…” she muttered under her breath as an aside to herself.  

He must have heard that, because he stiffened considerably and looked more than a bit miffed.

“It’s done on purpose, child,” his eyes narrowed at her, “Just a little intimidation to scare you from any ideas about ever coming back.  I will admit, though, you reacted a bit stronger than I anticipated...”

“Well yeah!  Because you’ve just wasted your time!  I’ve already seen PLENTY to convince me to never come back to this horrible place ever again!  Evil murderous invisible men, statues that chase you, people coming out of the walls, falling down giant chasms full of staircases-“

“You fell down that infinite stairway?” The woman interrupted, looking more than a little bit concerned.  

“Yes.  Not long after I met you back in that other hallway,” she said, jutting out her chin accusingly at Mr. Gracey.

To Solomon’s credit, he looked downright horrified.  Which was a nice change from his usual sour demeanor.

“Good lord, is that where you went previously? Are you all right?” He asked.  

“Yes….No…I mean. I don’t know!  I’m alive and everything seems to work…”

He gave a sigh that suggested both relief and frustration.  “This is exactly the reason you need to leave. It’s too dangerous for the living to go skipping about these halls without a care in the world.  Now child, if you wo-“

“Karen.”

“I beg your pardon?”

She stared him down, unflinching even as she held the gaze of those eerily, glow-y blues.  At this point, she was beyond tired of getting pushed around by ghosts.  

“My name is Karen. Karen Anderson.  And I’m eighteen.”

“How good for you,” he said with a wry smile.  “And I am well over a hundred.  So you’ll have to forgive me if I cannot help but see you as a child, Miss Anderson.  Nonetheless, I do apologize if I have caused you any offense.  I meant it merely as a descriptor, and not as any indication that you are somehow lesser.”

One hand folded behind his back and the other hand over his heart, he gave her a short incline of his head.

“Allow us, further, a chance for introductions. I am Solomon Gracey, and this is my family estate. Primary estate, that is.”

He gestured to the other two spirits.  “My associates….”

“Abigail Galloway,” The maid said, giving her a polite smile that would feel friendly if it didn’t seem a little too polite.

“Edgar Galloway,” The butler said, making neither a bow nor a smile.  For all the world, he seemed straight up bored.  After regarding her carefully with a quick glance, he went right back to stand there with a distant gaze.  

By the shapes of their faces, and their matching names, eyes, and hair, the two were most definitely related.  

Solomon coughed, and her attention returned to him.  He offered a hand.  She stared at it blankly.

His lips twisted a bit into a mischievous, almost boyish smirk.  “To help you to your feet.  Which I know are still working…because I just saw you use them.”

She opened her mouth to give a smart aleck retort, but realized she had nothing.  So she begrudgingly took his hand instead.  Freezing cold, like ice.  Something she had already come to expect by now.

“Come along, then,” he said, releasing her as soon as she was steady on her feet to turn and walk down the way he originally came.

She could feel the two servants pressing closer to her; they weren’t going to give her an opportunity to disobey.

They walked silently and casually.  Karen couldn’t shake off the feeling that their pace was measured and set specifically for her, because any hesitance on her part was met and matched by them.  Even Solomon, who was facing forward, seemed to eerily slow-down whenever she did.  That did more to evidence the fact that this was a supernatural situation than even their appearance; unlike Mr. Mortimer, who had a skeletal, glowing visage to him, these three people seemed to make every effort to give off the illusion they were alive.  

“Um…” she started, looking at the back of Mr. Gracey’s head.

When he did not pay her heed, she turned to the maid beside her instead.  Abigail smiled with a strange mixture of motherly affection, strict politeness, and a tinge of pity.  

“Something wrong?” She asked.

“What about Mr. Mortimer?”

Abigail frowned. “What about him?”

Karen looked nervously towards the back of Solomon’s head and then back to Abigail.  

“The Ghost Host trapped him in a portrait in a stairwell.”

Solomon spun quickly to face her, forcing the party to halt.  

“Claude did what?”

Rumbling in the walls nearest to her made her ease a step back.   The boards shook, but it wasn’t nearly as disorienting or terrifying as before.

She could see his hand shaking, fingers slowly furling into a fist then releasing.  The walls seem to respond to that, working up in a frenzy with each tremble of his hand, getting stronger with every moment they closed in on themselves.  And finally settling down, when his fingers gently unfurled themselves to a relaxed state.

“Miss Anderson…” he said, his voice struggling towards calm, “Would you…be so kind as to describe what this stairwell looked like?”

“Um…” her body tensed a moment, regardless of the fact that he was clearly not angry at her. “Narrow...creaky old wood steps…thin railings… and it was all enclosed by purple striped pattern on the walls.  It was down that way…”

She gestured vaguely the way she came.

Mr. Gracey listened intently to her, face as expressionless as he could obviously muster.

“Edgar,” he said.

“Sir,” Edgar replied.

But when Karen turned to look at the butler, he was gone.  She turned to look towards Abigail, who smiled politely back at her.

“He’s gone to help Mr. Mortimer,” she said.

“More of a courtesy to him,” Mr. Gracey said, and already he had turned to continue on. “Mr. Mortimer is powerful; he’s likely already freed himself by now.  Something like this could only ever hold him temporarily, where lesser souls would be forced to spend weeks.  Which means Edgar is mostly only going to inform Mr. Mortimer that you’re safely with us.”

“So…he’ll be okay?” At the maid’s non-verbal urging, she followed Solomon.

“He’ll be just fine. Don’t worry,” Abigail said.

They walked in silence after that; Karen was given time to think things over as they passed oak doors and flickering electric lights caked in cobwebs.  

The taste of licorice. The smell of roses.  These were sensations that had been clinging to her from the moment the spirits appeared.   The soft sigh of birds singing disappeared when Edgar vanished.    

Claude too.  It dawned on her that whenever the Ghost Host was around, she’d feel a tingling down her spine.  Mr. Mortimer always seemed to carry the smell of the sea.  And the statue had that horrible burnt smell.

Spirits, it seemed, came with some sort of identifying sense.  

She broke out of her reverie when they stepped into a room bathed in a familiar dull blue-green light. A slight panic bubbled up within her at the sight of stairways going any which way possible.

“Wait…why are we here? What are we doing??”  The panic snuck into her voice too.

“This is the fastest way back to the foyer,” Mr. Gracey replied, before taking a stairway straight down.

As in, the stairway was literally going vertically down, with the ghost before her now walking with his form completely horizontal.  

The maid seemed prepared to press her towards the same path, but she balked and backed up.

“I thought you said you wouldn’t kill me!” she accused, looking back and forth between Abigail and Solomon.

“We aren’t trying to,” Solomon said, already having turned to look up at her.  Neither his tone nor his face suggested maliciousness.  

“Then what do you call this?!” She gestured to the sheer drop.

“Looks can be deceiving,” he walked towards her, his hands clasped neatly behind his back. “It’s ironic that mortals, so grounded in reality, would fall prey so easily to the illusions of the dead.  You trust your eyes too much; not all believing comes from seeing.”

On that advice, Karen took an experimental step.  She could feel her weight shifting, her stomach dropping with the gravity, her body threatening to fall forward, and every nerve in her body screaming at her that this was suicide.  Her mind “helpfully” played out for her the fresh memory of her fall in her head.  

“No…No I can’t do this. I can’t do this!” She made to back away several steps, but Abigail kept her in place.

Karen turned to her. “Please, I can’t do this!  I ca-”

“It’s all right.”

“Don’t make me do this, please! Don-“

“Miss Anderson,” Mr. Gracey said, and he was already back on their stairway.  The stairway with the CORRECT stairway orientation.

“Please, I just had a fall, I can’t—“

“You won’t fall.  And if you do, I’ll catch you.”  Mr. Gracey said.

“I can’t! I know gravity when I feel it!  That isn’t just a trick of the eyes!”

“Miss Anderson, please. You won’t fall. I give you my word: As long as you remain with me, I won’t let you die.”

She looked from the maid still holding her to Gracey, who gave her a small smile of reassurance.

That did not make her feel better.  She turned to Abigail, and there must have been pleading in her eyes because Karen could see her slowly relent.

“Here,” Abigail said kindly, turning her around.  The feeling of cold fingers on her eyes. Karen’s sight went dark.

“Wha-?”

“Just step to the edge,” Abigail whispered at her ear.  It was a bit unnerving to know that ghosts had frigid cold fingers, yet somehow (someway) managed to have hot breath.  As if ‘breathing’ was even a thing with them.

“But I ca-“

“Just relax and step towards the edge.  I’ll let you know when you’ve arrived there.  If you cannot stand to go further than the edge, then we’ll find another way,” her voice had hints of softness despite the formal tone, “But try this first.”

“And if you’re just leading me straight off…?”  It was a doubtful statement, but one that still managed to worm into the back of her mind.  

“She’s not,” Mr. Gracey said.  

She took a few experimental steps forward, completely blind.  Solid wood met her feet each time.  

“It’s all right; go a little further,” Abigail encouraged.

So she took a few more steps, larger steps this time, and still met solid wood.  She also met with the realization that her ghostly companions made no footsteps; only HER steps rang against the chasm-like walls.

And yet, they HAD to still be there; she could still feel ice fingers covering her eyes. Her eyelids, in fact, were getting a little numb from it.  

She took a few steps further, smaller this time because she was quite sure the edge would be there, and yet once again met with solid wood.  Perhaps the direction change was farther along the path than it originally looked.  Dimensions really were difficult to discern when you couldn’t see a thing.  

“Where’s the drop?  Is it much farther?”  

“Keep going; we aren’t quite there yet.  Take a few more full steps.”

She did as she was told, her shoulders heaving as her anxiety calmed down.  And she continued to walk (tapping her foot experimentally in front of her before putting all her weight into it), until Abigail suddenly tugged her back a bit to stop her.  

She could hear a door slam shut behind her, and she twisted to escape Abigail’s grasp.  The maid let her go without a fight.  

…Karen blinked.  She stared at the sight long enough for Mr. Gracey to delicately raise an eyebrow at her.

“Are you all right?” He questioned, and there was a tug at the very corner of his lips that threatened to tease over into slight amusement.

Gobsmacked, she stared at him, then back to the scene in front of her.  

She was in the first hallway.  The very FIRST hallway.  The hallway where the Ghost Host took Michael away from her.  

“But…the stairway…” She looked around and spotted a door in the dark corner of the hall, across the way from the stretching room.  She was sure she had tried that same door much earlier that night; it had been locked before then.  

“You already made it through.  Alive, no less.  I guess we’re not very good at killing people, are we?”

His voice was dripping in sarcasm, and it both irked and amused her to the point where she, again, tried to find a clever response.

But her mental exercise was interrupted as the aforementioned door banged back open with much enthusiasm.  

Nell Jackson, green pinstripe dress and all, stood in the doorframe, excitement frozen on her face at the sight of Karen as if she weren’t quite expecting her.  Karen was sure the ghosts would remark on this, but they stood still and said nothing.

“Oh is it a party?” Nell cheerfully said, bounding into the room and shutting the door behind her.  Karen caught a glimpse of twisted staircases encased in green light.

“Nell, what’s that all over your dress?”  Abigail sternly said.

“Hm?” Nell picked a speck of dull grey from her apron.  “Oh. It’s just a bit of sand.”

She did a twirl with gleeful grin on her face, and the sand fell off all in a circle around her.

“NELL!” Abigail cried, looking insulted.

“What??”

“The carpet!”

Nell looked down at the ground, faux inspecting the carpet.

Karen did a double take. Had there ALWAYS been carpet in this hallway?  She thought there had only been floorboards before.

“Good news!  The carpet doesn’t seem harmed by it.”  Nell said.

“You’re still going to pick that up, young lady,” Abigail seethed through her teeth.  

“I can do that later.”

“Nell.”

“What?  It isn’t like the sand is going anywhere.  Sand isn’t sentient…” a beat, “…I think.”

Abigail gave a pointed look at Solomon, who in turn looked a little uncomfortable.  

“It’s just sand, Abigail. It won’t stain,” he said.  

Abigail gave him a hard stare akin to betrayal, and he coughed before venturing into the stretching room.

“Come along chil- erm, Miss Anderson.”

She made to follow him, but dust and ash swept across the floor, and as she stood to watch she saw Edgar appear from the flurry.  

“Edgar!  Perfect timing.  Help me clean up this sand,” Nell said, smiling.

Edgar gave one, long, bored stare at the mess on the ground before returning to a flurry of dust and ashes, particles picking up particles and the sand coalescing right into him.  

“What?  No!  Edgar, stop that!” Abigail said.  

Edgar half formed himself, just enough so that his face was showing.  Eyebrows raised at Abigail in quiet confusion.

“Thank you, Edgar. You’re the best!”  Nell smiled cheerfully at him.

“Nell, you needed to clean up the mess.” Abigail said.

“As long as it’s clean, why does it matter? And really, I wouldn’t have ever been able to do it that fast.  Besides, Edgar doesn’t mind.  Do you, Edgar?”

“I don’t care.” Edgar said, glassy bored look already returning to his features as he reformed himself.

“You see?  It all works out!” Nell gestured towards Edgar.

Abigail gave a long-suffering sigh.  “You disappoint me, Nell.”

“Well that isn’t unusual.”

“Nell…” Abigail sighed again, before finally turning to Karen and gestured her to enter the next room.

Karen gulped away her questions under the gaze of the still-irritated Abigail and went inside; the silly little drama of what she just saw was in stark contrast to the life threatening fear the Ghost Host had constantly subjected her to.  

Solomon Gracey was waiting for them in the center of the room.  He nodded in acknowledgement as the rest of the party joined him.  

And what a stark contrast that was here as well.  The room had changed since she’d last seen it; the differences were minor, yet remarkable in how they affected the mood.  The gargoyles looked less threatening due to the fact that the room was lit up brighter, and the portraits had reverted back to their original, un-stretched appearance.  It was just as cold as earlier, but infinitely less creepy.  She couldn’t feel the gaze of the hanging man hidden above them, and the general air didn’t feel nearly as oppressive as a result.

As strange as it was, she felt safer, in spite of the fact that this time she walked alongside practical strangers.

They came back to the foyer, and as she turned to look behind her she paused.

“….Wasn’t the portrait room on the other side?”

It was true.  She distinctly remembered Michael and herself being forced by the Ghost Host into a room to the left of Solomon Gracey’s portrait.  Yet as they exited this very same room, they came out to the right of the portrait.  

She checked; nothing but a blank wall to the left of Solomon’s painted visage.  

“Ah.  Well you see…” Abigail said, hesitant.

“The house moves rooms,” Nell interjected, grinning excitedly as she hoisted herself up one of the cabinets, “Isn’t it cool?”

“The house does what?” Mouth open and eyes wide, Karen stared back at her.    The word ‘cool’ was the furthest thing from her mind.

“What the house does or does not do is of no concern to you.  You’ll be on your way back to town shortly…as soon as we find your friend,” The actual Solomon turned towards her, “There is another mortal roaming around the house, correct?”

“Y-yeah… My boyfriend, Michael.  We were separated when that Ghost Host dragged him underneath the floorboards.”

A flick of anger on his face sprung up before fading into sympathy.

“I am sorry about that. That filth is known to do things like that,” his stare towards her hardened just a tad, “I do hope this act as a lesson to you both not to intrude upon old houses, even if you think they’re abandoned.”

Now it was her turn to get a little angry.  “We weren’t intruding!!  We were just….we were just lost!  And it was raining! And…”

She caught sight of Nell, happily sitting on the counter and eating from a jar of cookies.   The sight irritated her a little more.

“And she!”  Karen pointed an accusing finger at Nell.  “She said we could come visit her if it ever started raining!”

All three ghosts slowly turned to look at Nell, who suddenly stopped mid bite.  Both Abigail and Solomon had their eyebrows raised in the same exasperated expression.  Edgar just continued to look bored.

Nell, still mid bite, looked from both Karen to the spirits and back again, before raising her head solemnly.

“Well I never said you could come in.”  Nell said, quickly eating the remainders of her cookie as defiantly looking as she could.

“Wha—“ Karen began to protest, but Nell cut her off by wagging her finger towards her.

“Ah ah ah!  I never said you both could come in!  Now did I, Edgar?  Edgar was there; what did I say to them, Edgar?”

The other two ghosts now turned their exasperated sights on Edgar, who took it in stride by looking especially bored.

“’If you’re ever in an unfortunate rainstorm, you’re more than welcome to hide underneath our awning.’” Edgar quoted.

Nell was triumphant as she turned back to Karen.  “There, you see?  I never gave you permission to use the front door, now did I?”

Karen glared at her.

Abigail, meanwhile, glared at Edgar

“You never thought to inform us of this?”

Edgar, with an utterly neutral expression, simply replied, “It did not seem important.”

“Edgar,” Abigail seethed.

“Nell,” Solomon groaned, rubbing his forehead.

“Master Gracey,” Nell said, tone treating the name-calling like a game.

“None of this ‘Master Gracey’.  We talked about this,” Solomon said, looking a little more irritated, “You are not my servant and I am not your employer.”

“As you say, sir.”

Solomon grumbled on his way to a cabinet that looked like it had a wooden, intricate box built on top of its surface.  When he took out a glass with a bulge in it and a strange, ornate decanter filled with eerie green liquid, Karen assumed it to be some sort of cubby hole for drinks.  

“Abigail, Edgar,” he gestured to them aimlessly as he set up some extravagant drink that involved a strainer, what looked like a cube of sugar, water, and that sickly green stuff. “Could one of you be so kind as to find that other wayward mortal?”

“As you wish, sir,” Edgar stated, and he faded nearly instantly into whispy ash before vanishing completely.

“I could go too,” Nell offered.

“No, Nell.  If I know you, you’d only hinder any effort to actually retrieve him.”  

Solomon settled into an armchair that Karen swore hadn’t been there a moment ago.  It was only a handful of feet away from the fireplace, and so faded that you only just barely make out its deep red color.  

“What you could do, instead,” Solomon continued, “Is to get rid of that uniform and wear....well whatever it is modern mortals wear these days. Jeans and t-shirts, if I recall the words correctly.”  

“You let Abigail go around in the uniform, even though she’s not your servant anymore either…”

Nell crossed her arms, but the ghost of a smile on her lips suggested that this had been brought up before. And her eyes occasionally darting towards Karen brought with it the implication that she was only mentioning it for the benefit of their guest.  

Sure enough, Solomon stiffed in his chair, and Abigail looked just as equally uncomfortable as she busied herself with straightening papers on a nearby shelf.

“Nell,” Solomon warned, his tone deeper now.

“Alright, alright.  I see how it is.”

Nell made to cross the room, but lingered out of Solomon’s sight.  Karen caught sight of her gesturing to get her attention before pointing to the two ghosts, bringing her two fists to gently bump into each other while making a kissy face and giving a wink.  

Karen stared hard back. What the hell did the girl expect her to do with this information?

Her staring morphed to horror when Nell took off her maid’s headpiece and made a sign as if to throw it at Solomon.  Before Karen even had a chance to vocalize a sound, the headpiece went flying, phased straight through the middle of Solomon’s forehead, and landed quite obviously in front of him.

“Head shot!  Yes!”  Nell said while she fist pumped the air.

Solomon angrily shot out of the chair and spun to face Nell.

“Going, going, gone!” Nell said, grinning in that guiltless nervous way people get when they’re caught doing something they shouldn’t.

She quickly exited out a door so hidden by the darkness that it was a wonder if it had itself materialized like these ghosts were known to do.

Solomon sighed, his anger abating as he settled back down in the chair and stared wistfully at his drink.

“God, I wish alcohol still affected me,” he muttered as he took a sip.

As he lowered his drink, he seemed to notice Karen was still standing.  He motioned to the faded couch next to him.  

“You’re allowed to sit, you know,” he said, smirking a little, “I imagine you’d need it after that self-induced workout you gave yourself while trying to evade us earlier.”

Karen clamped her mouth shut, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of a response even as her face burned a little out of embarrassment.  She officially hated ghosts.  

 She instead focused her complete attention to the dead embers lying in the fire, her hands absentmindedly rubbing against her arms.

“Are you cold?” Abigail asked, coming back towards them.

“A little…”

“I imagine any mortal would feel quite cold around here,” Solomon said, getting up to move towards the fireplace.

“I’ve got that, sir,” Abigail curtly interrupted.  

Solomon moved back to his chair, palms raised in surrender with a slightly amused smile on his face, “As you say, Abigail.  Thank you.”

The fireplace roared up in a flicker of odd green flames, and the room began to grow wonderfully warmer. The remnants of anxiety faded as she sank into the couch, relaxation causing her mind to drift a bit.  She felt the weight of exhaustion start to consume her, and she idly wondered what time it was.  Her eyes wandered about, but were no apparent clocks anywhere on the walls.  

She considered Solomon’s drink on the table near her.  It didn’t have its greenish hue; it was more of a milky white with only a hint of green, and already halfway gone.

“How do ghosts even drink?” She asked in her absentminded state.

“Very carefully,” Solomon replied, with both sarcasm and a smile.

“But you can’t get drunk…”

“Such is the tragic nature of not having a body to intoxicate.”

“So what’s the point?”

Solomon took a sip, and made a show of smacking his lips as he stared into the pale liquid.

“Nostalgia,” He said, putting the glass back on the table.

She stared at the drink. “What even is that?”

“Absinthe,” he said, “Or the Green Fairy, as it was once known.”

He seemed to regard her as she remained transfixed by the glass.  

“…Would you care for some?”

Her eyes grew wide at the offer.

“I’m only eighteen! Also, doesn’t...that stuff...cause hallucinations?”

Solomon’s smile bent at the edges a bit, and he looked towards Abigail.  She was neatly standing near the other end of the couch from them both; she had been so silent that Karen had temporarily forgot she was even there.

“While I won’t lie; there were plenty of things we consumed back then that probably caused hallucinations,” Abigail stood with her hands clasped behind her back, a small quirk to the side of her lips, “But absinthe was not one of them.”

“At least, it’s not possible to get that effect with any amount you could feasibly drink,” he smiled bitterly, “Trust me on this.”

“This may be one of your only chances to try it,” Abigail added, “Since, currently, it’s very much misunderstood in America.  That’s where your hallucination idea comes from.”

Karen looked back at the drink, her stomach queasy just staring at it.  

“I…” she started. Solomon held up a hand to stop her.

“Please don’t feel like you have to drink it.  You will not be missing much, I promise.  It’s just another alcoholic drink, and you can get plenty of those once you’re older.  I personally find it rather ridiculous that they increased the drinking age, but I respect that you aren’t comfortable with this.  And if it will make you feel better…”

He made to get up, but Abigail was already on her way back to the drink cabinet.  So he sat back down with a nearly unreadable (but distinctly defeated) expression.  

The maid returned with something that looked just like Solomon’s glass; milky white.  She offered it to Karen, but Karen hesitated to take it.  

“This one isn’t alcoholic,” Abigail explained, “It’s made by a brewery in France, on special request and using the same kind of anise.  As a result, it doesn’t taste exactly the same, but it has some of the same notes…”

Karen stared at it, wondering if she could not find shapes within the milky white liquid.  The inkling of an idea had begun to gather at the edges of her mind, but the hazy warm room and the fact that it was likely the dead of night made it difficult to properly think.  She kind of wanted to just sleep.  

“Pomegranates...” She said.

The ghosts both looked perplexed, briefly side glancing each other before resting their eyes back on her.

She tried to gather her thoughts a little better so she could spit them out.

“In the story, there was a girl who had been kidnapped to the underworld and was tricked into eating the seeds of a pomegranate, forcing her to-“

“-To remain there, trapped, for several months every year.  The story of Persephone.” Abigail smiled, “It is good to hear that present day mortals are still taught classic Greek mythology.”

“But your concern is a little misplaced,” Solomon added, a glint in his eerie blue eyes akin to an adult humoring a young child, “The food and drink here is not somehow magical.”

“And that would also be a little counterproductive to our goal of getting you to leave…”

“Oh yeah…” Karen said, trying to frown away her exhaustion.  She partially wished she was still in that bed in the attic.

 “Besides, this is not the underworld and I am not Lord Hades.” Solomon said, stealing another sip from his drink before setting it aside.

“This is nothing more than a mansion,” he said, gesturing around him, “which, for better or for worse…just happens to be haunted.”

She nodded to him; it was a bit of a foolish idea. If she had a little coffee, perhaps she would have thought things through a little clearer. Carefully, unwilling to trust herself, she used both of her hands to take the cup from Abigail and brought it to her lips.

                                                             ….

                                                 It tasted of licorice.