#char: safiya

[talesofmetalandmagic]

It’s a dark stormy night in Shurima.

Emperor Azir lays in his imperial bed, snuggled in the silk alongside his beloved wife Zeina. She sleeps like a baby, nestled and cozy. He, however, lays under the sheets nervous and tense.

Every lightning strike feels like a slap to his face, and every clap of thunder like a jab to the head. He holds onto the sheets until his knuckles turn pale; out of breath, sweating cold.

CRASH. Lightning strikes again, making the stained glass windows shake. It’s as if the fierce beasts portrayed upon them had come to life and were brawling inside the carvings, tearing each other to bits.

It’s just a storm. A normal storm. I mustn’t fret. They’d not have wanted it. I’m a man grown and an Emperor.

Another clap makes the windows tremble and creak, and Azir would rather hide his head under the sheets like a child.

I’ve been in battle, for the Sun Disc’s sake. Why am I cowering like an infant?

He covers himself tighter and shifts closer to his wife, hoping to find comfort in her warmth. He closes his eyes, takes deep breaths, tries to let sleep overtake him. And it feels so close…

Until another lightning strikes so close it turns the stained glass white.

Azir slips out of bed, wears a thick embroidered robe above his linen tunic, kisses Zeina’s head, takes the silk scarf that wraps his locs off his head and uses it to wipe the copious sweat that damps his face.

Barefoot, eyes agape, heart thumping, holding a lit lantern in one hand, he walks through the corridor towards the rooms of his children. Nighttime guards stare at him.

“My Emperor?” one of them says.

“I’m fine. You haven’t seen me. Swear it on your life” he grunts out.

Thunder strikes when he enters Ibrahim’s room. The boy sleeps peacefully, one hand slipping down the side of the fine carved bed, a small string of drool falling down his lips. He looks as innocent as he’s youthful, unburdened by the fear that overtakes Azir.

He has Zeina’s nose and cheeks, but something of Omah as well. Azir kisses his head and looks around. He’s fine. He’s safe. My beloved boy…

Taking a deep breath, he pulls the fallen sheets on his child and fixes his headscarf. His room is a mess, as usual: notes thrown all over the place, arrows still in their practice target, the bow thrown on the floor, and his gold and gems set of Senet is scattered about.

He should learn to be more proper. Why, had I made such a mess…

But the lightning strike that follows is so fierce it seems to illuminate the raindrops, and the window quivers in its hinges.

And Azir runs so fast he almost loses his robe.

“IMANI!”

He slams the doors as he rushes in, heart pounding once again. The girl lifts herself up from her bed, clutching her doll Iris to her chest.

“Father? What…”

The following lightning illuminates the child’s face, her wide eyes and the stray curls falling out of her own silken bonnet.

She’s fine, integer, not charred. Easing his breath, the Emperor sits by the child’s side and composes himself.

“Oh, my darling child. You’re fine. You’re alright.”

Imani blinks confusedly. “Why, father? Did you have a bad dream?”

“No. No. I couldn’t sleep. I needed to check on you.”

Imani, now fully wake, clutches her father’s neck and lets him scoop her into his strong arms.

“Are you afraid of the storm?”

Azir holds her closer. He cannot admit that he, winner of battles and light of Shurima, is indeed scared of thunderclaps and lightning strikes.

Let alone tell his innocent, gentle child that the reason why he’s fretting is that he’s remembering his own father and mother, burned to death in their own chambers. Queen Safiya of Vekaura holding onto her dead child in a completely burnt bed. His Radiant Majesty Emperor Saif the Great charred into an unrecognizable form, steaming still, rings melted into his flesh.

Why, Nasus, what’s the rush? I’m having fun with my friend here. This storm can’t last forever.

Azir, my dearest child. I have grave news. Be strong.

“If I was, Imani,” he says, rocking the child into the needed sleep. “Would you protect me?”

“I would. You’re a good father.”

He puts her back in bed, kissing her forehead. Seeing her smile at every kiss brings him a joy unknown.

I’m not ready, father. Not yet. Don’t go. I can’t do this. I can’t… please.

Imani hugs Iris tight and curls up under the sheets.

I would protect you too, Imani dearest. Father would never, ever hurt you.

[artangel3993]

summer meets the gang: pt 1

this is a continuation from this piece which starts at this piece! this is set in the box boy universe and yeah its psychedelic bunker time feat summer pov. i swear to god this is leading to actual whump scenes njfddfjn. poppy gets introduced here and i love her! nic and elana are gonna be introduced in the second part of this it just got wa y too long to be one thing. but yeah welcome 2 bunker

cw: general fuckery of the box boy universe, discussions of ownership and dehumanization 

prev | next

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Summer scratched at the strap of her backpack absentmindedly as Violet drove through the long gravel driveway leading to, what Summer assumed, was going to be the bunker. She hadn’t taken it off for the whole car ride, with how quick Violet made her and Safiya leave the cottage, just sitting there in the backseat in a shocked quiet. (She brought the pouch with all her seeds here, though, she knew the whole point of the bunker was that it was underground but maybe they’d have a place for her to plant them, she didn’t know. She liked having them on her.) 

Safiya and Violet had been talking in the front the whole car ride in hushed whispers, drowned out completely from her by the music. At some points in their conversation, Safiya had laughed, smiling at Violet so bright and genuine. Now, she had her arms crossed, looking pointedly out of the window, face flushed with anger. Summer didn’t want to stare, even through the mirrors, she knew whatever there was between them was… complicated. But that was none of her business. The way Safiya would tear through the mail back home looking for Violet’s name. None of her business. 

She looked out the window instead, all the trees passing by still sticky with summer, a couple of yellow leaves here and there as autumn crept upon them. They had gone far, far into the country, even more isolated than Safiya’s cottage in the quiet town. Summer ached for what had begun to feel like her home: waking up early to watch the sunrise as she watered all of her flowers she’d raised herself out in the front, feeling the morning dew bead on her face all softly. Taking off her sneakers and her socks to wade in the stream and look for tiny fish, down the trail from the backyard. Coming back inside and finding Safiya working at the kitchen table, having just made Summer a mug of tea waiting for her next to the other chair. Thinking about good things was keeping her head busy. Change frightened her, she liked feeling grounded and she didn’t want to sound ungrateful, it was just sudden, how Violet had come in, was all. Spun both of their worlds on her axis.

Summer was thrown out of her thoughts by the sound of metal screeching against metal and caught sight of the bunker for the first time, fingers pressing against the glass. A dome of concrete jutted out from a raised landmass, the opening on the front that was now parting for Violet’s black Tesla looked big enough to open for a rocket. She heard Violet say it was an abandoned underground missile silo, but she couldn’t even conceptualize what that could look like until now. the lighting changed from natural to fluorescent as they entered the bunker. 

Violet parked next to a lineup of four other cars against the metal opening to the bunker, and as Summer stepped out, she was struck by how enormous just the front room was. The ceiling was a good fifty feet or so up, made out of arched concrete, a precarious chandelier hanging from the highest point, over rows and rows of tall shelves with packaged boxes all over, its elegance chaotically disrupting the underground warehouse energy the rest of the room gave off. It was a curious place and Summer wanted to explore, but Violet terrified her, and she wasn’t so keen on accidentally bumping into one of her associates. She walked over to Safiya because things felt less scary next to her, thought briefly about reaching out to hold onto her, but thought the better of it. 

Their conversation was finally in earshot now. Safiya looked up to Violet, who had taken her sunglasses off and put them in her black clutch. “How did this… happen?”

“What?”

“This bunker. How the fuck did you guys just... stumble upon an entire military bunker.”

Violet thought for a moment, looking to the side. Summer realized, for the entire eight hours she’d known her, she’d never seen her facial expression change once. So this was whose name was really on her contract, had all of her information since becoming company property, had eventual final say in all legal matters concerning her life. Theoretically, she could send Summer back to the Facility tomorrow, if she wanted. If she interfered with her and Safiya. Summer decided to study the floor rather than look at her any longer. “Well, it was Nic who originally sent me the listing, but the deed’s under my name. We won’t be able to stay here forever but it’s a good place to manufacture longer term, Elana loves the privacy-” 

Violet’s voice was interrupted by a muffled, far-away “wait, they’re here?!” followed by echoed footfalls ringing along the metal shelves, in the places where light doesn’t reach, methodic skipping sounds. Suddenly, a girl appeared from the dark. 

She was much shorter than Summer but not quite as short as Safiya, gripping the end of the shelving and steadying herself from stumbling, her socks on the smooth concrete causing her to slide a little forward. She had dark brown hair that went down a little past her shoulders, cut in messy layers that flicked this way and that, carefully tiptoeing the line between bob and mullet. She had on a crop top that looked like she cut it herself from a t-shirt, multicolored swirling patterns all over it, her grey pajama shorts tied to hug her waist. She was smiling out of breath, her face flushed from running down the hall. 

Violet said, in what sounded like equal parts explanation and irritation: “Poppy.”

After getting her footing back, she walked over to the three of them, crossing her arms. “So, which one of them’s Safiya?

Violet looked down at her. “Introduce yourself, at the very least.”

“Fine,” the girl said, not stifling her eye roll. “I’m Poppy, nice to meet you, etc etc. I’m Violet’s, but I think that can be said about, uh, all three of us, basically. Now, who’s Safiya- or, wait. Can I guess? I’m going to guess.”

With that, Poppy put one of her hands over her eyes and stuck her other arm out in front of her pointing, blindly moving it between Summer and Safiya. Summer and Safiya, over and over to some invisible beat, until it landed clumsily over Saf.

Safiya cleared her throat. “Yeah, that’s... that’s me.” 

Poppy opened her mouth in a mock surprise and looked over at Violet. “So this is who you’ve been spilling your guts over to me for like, months-”

With that, Violet quickly took Safiya’s wrist and pulled her to the side, storming off away from earshot, muttering something to her. Summer saw Safiya nod. Beside Summer, Poppy took her finger out of the air and ruffled the side of her own hair with it instead, looking away. “I… I fucked that up, didn’t I?” She laughed a little, trailing at the end of her sentence, but it didn’t mask the nervous tone in her voice. 

 Summer didn’t respond to her. She hadn’t been able to find her voice since they left the cottage, if she was being honest. From here, she could see how large Poppy’s pupils were, too dilated to be natural. Another thing she didn’t bring up. She fiddled with her backpack straps, again. 

After a moment, Safiya and Violet walked up to both of them, hand and hand. Safiya slipped away from Violet, giving her a look. “I’m gonna- I need to talk to Summer, for a second. I’ll be back.” Summer met Safiya’s eyes, grateful for the excuse to be rid of all of the new people. 

They stood in the corner of the warehouse, where the curved wall met the cars. Safiya stopped her when they had gone far enough. Saf tried to start a sentence, and pinched between her brows instead. She stopped for a second, and then: “So. This is a lot.”

Safiya waited a couple moments more, for Summer to say anything, but she couldn’t. She didn’t know where she was, it was too much change too quickly and she didn’t know what was going on and she didn’t want to mess it up, by saying the wrong thing. She couldn’t mess up. The silence, the realization that Summer wasn’t going to answer just made Safiya’s gaze go from worried and stressed to pity, only pity. Summer didn’t know how to feel about any of that, either. 

She reached for Summer’s arm. 

“It’s… I’m sorry. I’m sorry for- for fucking, all of this, but I promise Violet’s not…” Safiya backtracked on herself.  “You remember back at the cottage, the first few days? When you didn’t want to leave, so I told you… I told you you’d always have a home there if you wanted it, that I’d keep you safe?” Summer nodded faintly.

“That won’t change here, I’m still going to… I’m not going back on what I said. If Violet’s friends have a problem with that, they can come to me with it, but I’m not- you’re not going to get entangled, in all of this…” Safiya’s voice started to fade, and Summer thought, what a beautiful chandelier. All crystal and glowing. She remembered one just like it, in the staircase of the other house, buried in her memory. It came back to her perfect in her vision like a dam had just been opened, the breaking crown moulding lining the walls in centuries old paint, all the statues, the stacks of books against the archway to the living room with the candle wax dripping down, down…

“Summer? Summer I- uh. Can you hear me?” 

Summer was thrown back into the present, met with Safiya’s worried eyes, her hand still firmly on her arm. Summer looked down, grounding herself, her head going dizzy. 

“You left again,” Safiya explained. 

Summer felt the self consciousness creep up on her, shifting the weight on her feet side to side, found it in her to say a soft “I’m sorry,” to Safiya. 

“You don’t need to apologize.” Safiya paused before running her hands through her coiled hair, a nervous tick Summer’s picked up on. “Listen, though, me and Vi have, uh. Things. We need to talk about. Alone. So, I’m going to go with her, for now,” instinctively, Summer brought her hand to where Safiya’s was on her arm, holding onto it for dear life, “hey, I know, but I have to. I haven’t seen her for… I have to. I’ll come find you right after, I promise- and I wouldn’t leave you alone unless I knew nothing was going to happen to you.” She didn’t believe her. 

Their hands fell from Summer’s arm down and just stayed like that, entangled by their sides. Summer stood there, in that quiet, for all too long a moment. “Are we ready to go back?” came Safiya’s stressed tone, cracking a little at the edges. Before she could let herself think about it too long, Summer nodded her head.

[gobackhome-rpg]

► I SOLEMNLY SWEAR THAT I AM UP TO NO GOOD ◄

Quando ela entra no salão principal todas as cabeças viram para olhar. É Safiya Baird. Possui dezessete anos e está no sexto ano escolar em Hogwarts. É da Lufa Lufa. Parece muito com Dua Lipa. Está atualmente ocupada.

‘’When you see me, will you say I’ve changed?’’

► Eu cometi muitos erros na minha vida, mas acho que é normal para alguém que quer crescer. ◄

Safiya sempre foi muito mimada por seus pais, que por mais que fossem bruxos e sempre a criaram para saber lidar com isso, ficavam em cima da garota para ter a certeza de que nada de ruim aconteceria – ou que ela fosse fazer algo, sem pensar -, sendo assim, tem um temperamento um pouco delicado de se lidar. Sempre a motivaram a ir para o ramo musical, fazendo com que a garota se apaixonasse por música clássica, aprendendo a tocar razoavelmente uma variedade de instrumentos, mas nada de um modo perfeito, como sua mãe queria que fizesse.

Quando atingiu uma certa idade, por sempre ser muito simpática, sempre estava rodeada de pessoas, assim, fazendo com que a garota saísse pelas ruas de Londres e se divertisse com coisas pequenas, desde nova. Porém, quando completou seus dez anos de idade, sua mãe faleceu, fazendo com que o pai da garota insistisse em mudar de cidade, indo então, para Manchester, não muito longe dali. A garota teve de se acostumar com as novidades em volta de si, embora sentisse que não fosse mais a mesma depois de ter de se mudar, como se ela não conseguisse mais fazer amigos como antes, como se a falta de sua mãe tivesse tirado toda a vontade da garotinha de socializar.

Pouco tempo depois, seu pai arranjou uma namorada, trouxa, fazendo com que ele se afastasse um pouco da garota, e a fizesse guardar segredo sobre quem eles eram por um bom tempo. A mulher apenas descobriu que a família era feita de bruxos, quando Safiya recebeu a carta para ir para Hogwarts, e desde então, tenta ao máximo se acostumar com o fato de que sua nova família é composta por seres que não são considerados normais por ela. Isso sempre deixou a garota extremamente incomodada, mas nunca parou para falar sobre com seu pai, pelo simples fato de não ser mais tão próxima do homem.

Desde que entrou em Hogwarts, a garota tenta ao máximo conseguir fazer amigos como fazia antes, mas infelizmente, ainda sente que nunca mais será como era quando garotinha, com sua família, em Londres.

Traços Positivos ✧ Amigável.  ✧ Romântica.  ✧ Paciente.

Traços Negativos ✦ Possessiva.  ✦ Teimosa. ✦ Irresponsável.

Melhor Amigo:

Paquera/Namorado/Ex:

► EU TENHO A MAGIA EM MIM! ◄

Sabe que é bruxo desde sempre. Possui pais bruxos, Grace Adams e Paul Baird, portanto é sangue-puro. Sua varinha foi comprada no Beco Diagonal,  silver Lime com núcleo de pena de Fênix, 13’’ e muito flexível.. Seu patrono é um Falcão. Não participa de nenhum clube.

► PLAYER ◄

Maria

[montaigness]

my char safiya :}} she’s very normal. very incredibly normal and not strange at all

[remysims]

Tag Thingie

I was tagged by @katsujiilove because apparently, she loves  torturing me...luckily I had a nice strong grape soda for lunch so I’m ready for your being nosey on Tumblr tag thing.  😂 

More talk stuff below.

Rules: Always post the rules. Tag 11 new people you’d like to know better

1. Dogs or Cats? Cats. I love and have both but I only clam the cat and the turtle.

2. YouTube celebrities or normal celebrities? Neither.

3. If you could live in anywhere were would that be? Canada. Somewhere off-grid but still close to WiFi and plumming, lol.

4. Disney or DreamWorks? Disney. Does DreamWorks have a theme park? Anyway, I love Disney more and I would really like to go to Disney World at least once in my life.

5. Favorite childhood TV show? Oh wow, I have a lot, let's see. Gargoyles, X-Men, TaleSpin, Pinky and the Brain, Batman Beyond, Biker Mice from Mars, Moesha, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Sabrina the Teenage Witch, Angel!!! That’s like childhood teen shows right there.

6. The movie you’re looking forward to most in 2020? Morbius The Living Vampire(idk when it comes out but it’s a movie about a vampire so I need to see it), Venom 2, Jumanji: The Next Level(The Rock...that is all), Star Wars 9, Terminator 6, The Eternals

7. Favorite book you read in 2019? A who what now? LMAOO. Nah this year I’ve just read Raven St. Pierre Marco and A Beauty to His Beast 2 An Urban Werewolf...it’s sad I know, somebody recommend one to me I like fictional and myth types.

8. Marvel or DC? Ohhh that’s hard, But I like Marvel a little more than DC.

9. If you choose Marvel favorite member of the X-Men? If you choose DC favorite Justice League member? Marvel: Storm is my favorite female member & Wolverine is my guy. I love Gambit's accent and really like the relationship of him and Rogue in the cartoon.

10. Night or Day? Night. I’m more active around the house. It’s quiet and no one is bothering me, I can do what I want. Plus I have insomnia so yeah

11. Favorite Pokémon? Oh so you just gone take Jigglypuff....okayokay Then i’ll say Eevee and all the forms it envolves too...they’re all so cute.

12. Top 5 bands. TLC, No Doubt, Destiny's Child, Dru Hill, Green Day Boulevard Of Broken Dreams is still my fave

13. Top 10 books. (fiction, non-fiction, whatever): Oh so i was a big fan of reading before I watched the movie, these are like what I’ve read before I don’t remember if I finished them all though. The Secret Garden, Howl's Moving Castle, Vampire Academy, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, The Help, Throne of Glass, Magic Bites, The Book Thief

14. Top 4 movies: Pulp Fiction, Boyz n the Hood, Edward Scissorhands, Jurassic Park

15. America or Europe? I’m going to say Europe. Bout sick of America.

16. Tumblr or Twitter? *swings pendulum* Pick Tumblr. Always pick Tumblr: I don’t get much love on Twitter and barley any on Tumblr with all the people who follow me. Thanks to the ones who show love!!!. But Tumblr is losing so much of my respect lately I have so many pictures that I’m hesitant about posting now which takes some of the fun out of taking pictures in the first place.

17. Pro choice or Pro life? Hmmm I feel like everything has a right to live, but everyone has the right to choose what’s best for them and their circumstances. Pro choice.

18. Favourite YouTuber. (Or top whatever. I personally couldn’t pick just one.)  I mostly watch Sims 4 Lets plays, because I will never get that into it personally but like watching others play. James Turner, DeeSims,xmiramira, SlayedBy Jordan, Steff J, NaturalReign, GOTDAMN ZO, Safiya Nygaard , ThreadBanger, Corinne Leigh

19. Favourite author? I don’t have one but I was introduced to Raven St. Pierre this year and really enjoy her books

20. Tea or coffee? Coffee. I’ve been making my own hot mocha lately with instant cocoa mix and whipped cream on top I love it. But i also love a nice glass of ice peach tea.

21. OTP? My char couples, Marcellus & Karley I don’t have any OTPs from books/movies/etc. Oh  Gambit and Rogue lol

22. Do you play an instrument/sing? If so, what do you play? I use to play the violin from elementary to high school and a little after I graduated, but some of the strings on my bow broke and I never got it fixed, I still have my violin stuffed in a closet somewhere.

I’m tagging @applekissims​ @uniqueleemade87​ you guys do my tag stuff 😠 @mamasanctuary @treason-and-plot @lalasimmer @sim--ish

[ssunveinsarchive]

tag drop 

[fewrebelsarchive]

*cracks knuckles* ok for the char meme thing neveah, jovi, booker, harrison, safiya, & marley thank u gn

ILY i can’t believe u want me dead :) 

for NEVEAH 

2-4 songs that are probably on their iPod: foldin clothes by j.cole & hands to myself by selena gomez the one place they sometimes end up falling asleep — where they’re not supposed to: orion’s......... i’m emo the game they’d destroy everyone else at: honestly she loves boardgames she’d def crush anyone at clue that’s her shit the emoticon they’d use most often: 😍😍😍 what they act like when they haven’t had enough sleep: like a goddamn zombie ok the girl lives on caffeine their preferred hot beverage on really cold nights. or mornings. or whenever.: she’s a basic hoe, loves her mocha machiattos how they like to comfort/care for themselves when they’re in a slump: she’ll draw herself a nice warm bath and if she’s got some extra cash that week she’ll buy a few bath goodies from lush and just melt her stresses away.... or at least try to??? what they wanted to be when they grew up: she definitely always saw herself being a humanitarian of some sort??? just helping people any way she can their favorite kind of weather: she loves summer 100% thoughts on their singing voice (decent? terrible? soprano? alto?): it’s decent but nothing really to write home about lmao how/what they like to draw or doodle: she’s def a flower kinda gal, sunflowers are her fav to draw 

for JOVI 

2-4 songs that are probably on their iPod: under the bridge by RHCP, garden grove and santeria by sublime the one place they sometimes end up falling asleep — where they’re not supposed to: everywhere??? um he’s such a sleepy boy but probably mostly in class, or the library when he’s accompanying matty lmao the game they’d destroy everyone else at: any game regarding film trivia he’s seen literally every movie he’ll crush anyone who even tries to compete against him the emoticon they’d use most often: 🌌 that one for sure what they act like when they haven’t had enough sleep: he’s def just super groggy and pouty like a giant adult child their preferred hot beverage on really cold nights. or mornings. or whenever.: he likes tea but like spiced tea??? so chai is usually his jam, or like an orange spiced tea??? he fucks w that too how they like to comfort/care for themselves when they’re in a slump: he actually gets into “slumps” often when it comes to his photography he feels like it’s not good enough at times but i feel like he just goes over all the things he’s done since he picked up his first camera and the contrast of what he started with to what he’s doing now??? it makes him realize he’s going after photography in the first place what they wanted to be when they grew up: def photographer i feel like it’s always been the one constant in his life their favorite kind of weather: he’s a fan of the whole “birth” and “revival” vibe that comes along w spring, so def that but i also feel like he loves the transition from pastel to earth tones come fall and winter thoughts on their singing voice (decent? terrible? soprano? alto?): horrible 0/10 would recommend how/what they like to draw or doodle: honestly he doesn’t write much let alone doodle 

for BOOKER 

2-4 songs that are probably on their iPod: icarus by iron maiden, black magic woman by santana the one place they sometimes end up falling asleep — where they’re not supposed to: probs at the office but lbr he lives there the game they’d destroy everyone else at: again trivia but anything about literature as a whole whether it be classic to modern he’s a fucking Nerd what they act like when they haven’t had enough sleep: he actually does his best writing when running on no sleep lmao their preferred hot beverage on really cold nights. or mornings. or whenever.: straight black coffee 25/8 boihow they like to comfort/care for themselves when they’re in a slump: ugh when isn’t booker in a slump. only his slumps are called writers block. he’ll usually do something physical like go for a run or utilize his apartment building’s gym and just work out til his brain feels less foggy. either that or he’ll get shit faced and attempt to write, see what comes of it what they wanted to be when they grew up: a writer 100% i feel like he’s always been tellin stories but once he was older he finally was able to share ‘em w the world their favorite kind of weather: he’s rather Sporty like he used to play a ton back in hs and college and his friends and him still play football and soccer on days they’re all off so he def loves spring/summer thoughts on their singing voice (decent? terrible? soprano? alto?): god no how/what they like to draw or doodle: he just draws lil asterisks he’s not artistic or creative by any means 

for HARRISON 

2-4 songs that are probably on their iPod: feels like summer by weezer & fake plastic trees by radiohead the one place they sometimes end up falling asleep — where they’re not supposed to: his desk @ work tbh and the bed of his truck bc lbr he loves looking at the stars the game they’d destroy everyone else at: just overall trivia literally any topic he’ll def know about what they act like when they haven’t had enough sleep: he’s a zombie tbh just silent and trying not to fall asleep while working their preferred hot beverage on really cold nights. or mornings. or whenever.: he’s a child LMAO he loves chocolate milk. even tho it not hot, that’s his jam how they like to comfort/care for themselves when they’re in a slump: he’ll drive tbh he always clears his mind on a long drive what they wanted to be when they grew up: an astronaut lmao their favorite kind of weather: fall tbh he likes halloween the Mostthoughts on their singing voice (decent? terrible? soprano? alto?): terrible lmao how/what they like to draw or doodle: he prob draws stupid lil atom puns or some shit he’s the Worst 

for SAFIYA 

2-4 songs that are probably on their iPod: impossible by travis scott & deja vu by post malone the one place they sometimes end up falling asleep — where they’re not supposed to: in class :/ she’s trash the game they’d destroy everyone else at: i feel like she’s good at dominos her dad def taught her how to play when she was SUPER young and never let her forget it what they act like when they haven’t had enough sleep: she’s a bitch and a half lmfao u don’t wanna cross paths w a sleepy saf their preferred hot beverage on really cold nights. or mornings. or whenever.: she gets a coffee light & sweet, it’s her fav how they like to comfort/care for themselves when they’re in a slump: tbh she’ll just detatch herself from society it’s what helps her think clearly what they wanted to be when they grew up: she def wanted to be a SAH mom :/ wit her 2 lil kiddies :/ alas, their favorite kind of weather: spring 100% thoughts on their singing voice (decent? terrible? soprano? alto?): it’s pretty but she doesn’t sing often, not around ppl anyway how/what they like to draw or doodle: funny lil characters like her cats if they were able to talk and shit lmfafshajskf 

for MARLEY 

2-4 songs that are probably on their iPod: would it be a cliche to say hotter than hell by dua lipa??? lmao and river by bishop briggs the one place they sometimes end up falling asleep — where they’re not supposed to: where DOESN’T she fall asleep honestly???? def as her hook-ups houses hfdjashrj she’s the one night stand that sleeps in longer than u the game they’d destroy everyone else at: cards against humanity......... she has a fucked up sense of humor lmao what they act like when they haven’t had enough sleep: honestly she just goes back to sleep i s2g even if she has to be somewhere she’s like wow??? suddenly i’m sleeping for 4 more hours their preferred hot beverage on really cold nights. or mornings. or whenever.: caramel flavored coffee is her fav, so like lattes or machiattos are her shithow they like to comfort/care for themselves when they’re in a slump: she honestly gets shit faced lmfao just like she deals w/ everything else what they wanted to be when they grew up: she def wanted to be some kinda powerful ass business woman who made men cry their favorite kind of weather: she’s a hoe for the beach so summer thoughts on their singing voice (decent? terrible? soprano? alto?): she actually has a super nice voice, even when doing drunk karaoke how/what they like to draw or doodle: she draws inappropriate doodles of ppl she hates lmafdngajksrj 

[artangel3993]

(i got really inspired by @shameless-whumper and @ashintheairlikesnow ‘s series and tried to write something in the box boy universe! credit for the world goes to @sweetwhumpandhellacomf!)

next 

There was a person in a wooden crate in Safiya’s living room.

Violet had written to her (fucking Violet, of course she had done this, of course she had thought this was a solution, she had told her she would be fine alone, leave, no really) in her too-perfect cursive, telling her she was going to get her help. Because she felt so responsible for leaving her defenseless and didn’t want Saf to be all by herself. A quick note in an envelope with no return address. 

If you felt so responsible, why didn’t you stay?

And of course she had heard about the company, it was all over the news, social media, the senate floor. She didn’t understand the appeal and beyond that, didn’t give it much mind. But when Joshua (he worked for the post office and had been delivering mail to her cottage for years, he had the keys to her place at this point and left her packages for her in the living room because he knew she wouldn’t be able to retrieve them from her porch) had brought it in this morning, the logo for the company plastered right on the side, her mind went straight to Violet. She had the money. Who fucking knows, at this point, Vi might’ve gotten one for herself, too, Saf wouldn’t put it past her. When she wrote help, she thought Vi might have meant a nurse to come check in on her, maybe more film to cover up her windows, or whatever the latest new miracle skin cancer-preventative supplement was, but never… this. 

Hesitantly, she crept in quiet steps on the carpet from her old rocking chair to the crate, again. It had been an hour and she was still too nervous to open the top more than a crack, but that felt irresponsible of her. She laughed, breathy and just to herself, about how fucking ironic it was that Vi thought the perfect way to fix her ex and get leaving her off her consciousness was to put someone else in the care of her. Saf could barely take care of herself. Couldn’t she return the box, whoever was inside of it? She was going to, she decided in her head. She would look through all the paperwork that was attached to the crate and find out how to take all of this back, even if it meant getting an angry letter from Vi (maybe it would be nice, to hear from her again, even if it was just for wasting her money.) But for the meantime, until she figured all of this out, she couldn’t just leave whoever was in there for however long that process took, just lying there like that. Quietly, she slid the wooden lid off and placed it by her side on the floor.

There was a woman all curled up inside, a living, breathing girl, her chest albeit faintly moving in and out with her lungs. She looked as still as if she was in a deep sleep, eyes blindfolded, her long, yellow-blonde hair pooled about her in the packaging, it reaching down all the way to her waist in soft, dainty ringlets at the ends that were so stiff and perfect it made Saf recoil because it was so fucking unsettling, like it was the wig of a perfect marionette doll in the window of a toy store. Softly, with both hands to make sure she didn’t tug on her, she took her by the arms and propped her into a sitting position, and took off the blindfold.

Safiya watched the woman’s deep brown eyes adjust and dilate to the muddled dark she always kept her house in, focusing on her face. Her gaze hesitated on Saf’s skin for a couple of moments in curiosity, and then immediately darted down to look at the bottom of the packaging, twisting her fingers tight around the newspaper padding.

“It’s alright. You can look, if you want to.” It took Safiya a second to find her voice. “I’m not offended by it. Being able to perceive things people haven’t seen before makes it less strange, in their heads. Less other. It’s good to look.”

Hesitantly, the woman’s eyes found her again. She studied the marks running through Saf’s face, dripping down her neck, all of the little dots, the red and black scarring from the sun, those raised, swollen places that had gotten too irritated by UV rays. Safiya didn’t like to look in mirrors much anymore but she still knew where everything was, all her abnormalities, when she would run her fingers along her own skin. It was something she couldn’t forget. She’d had the freckles all over since she was really little, but most of the scarring had come from a few years ago, when she’d accidentally had UV’s on her skin for the first time in forever, when she wasn’t cautious enough with the lights she’d gotten for her new place and they’d been on all at once. It had felt like her skin was about to melt off. She’s lucky all that had gotten left was aesthetical damage.

Safiya spoke again. “I promise it’s not contagious, or anything. It’s from a genetic condition.”

Slowly, the woman nodded her head. “They told me, during training.” Her voice was so delicate, something only slightly above a whisper, like it was expecting to be broken. “Xeroderma pigmentosum.”

“Training?”

“Yes, you… the custom training order you put in when you got me.” Jesus christ, Vi. How much had she spent on all this? “I know how to help you with administering medication, handling seizures...”

How was she supposed to explain that that wasn’t her, who ordered all of that? Safiya sighed, ran a hand through her coarse brown hair, looking down for a minute to gather her thoughts. Her eyes rested on the woman’s side, where a long, healed scar slithered out from her black sports bra and down her willowy frame, to the small of her waist.

Her eyes were on Saf when she looked up. She must have noticed her staring. Safiya opened her mouth to apologize, but she shook her head. “You can look at it. Like you said... it’s better, to perceive. I just thought you knew… it’s on file. From my last placement. Before I got refurbished.” Then she added, after a moment: “I’m sorry if I’m disappointing.”

Safiya didn’t know what refurbished meant but she’s pretty certain it was the kind of thing she didn’t want to know about. “No, you’re not disappointing I just- what’s your name?”

The woman slowly unfurled her right arm and held it out to her, where a little black number was printed along her wrist. 075395. 

“This is a number.”

Carefully, she brought her arm back to herself, curling it along her knees pulled tight to her chest. “You can name me, if you would like that better.”

“Listen-” Safiya couldn't attach herself to the situation like that, she was just going to wait with her for a couple of hours until she could go back, she didn’t mean to- how was she supposed to explain this? “This has all been a big mistake.”

The woman’s eyes widened with some unnameable dread from the pit of her heart, stricken into a deep, terrified stillness as fuzzy as a scratch on a record, before she looked down just slightly, and something switched and she went back to an unreadable, eerily serene expression. “Mistake?”

“Yes, I-” Safiya looked for the words to tell her she was going to return her, she really did, but it took too long, and then she remembered that look in her eyes, if even the smallest notion of something being wrong could push her down that thought process. Saf breathed out. “What would you want your name to be?”

She looked taken aback for a moment, then dissociated all deep in thought, before decisively shaking her head no.

So this had to be Safiya’s decision, then. She thought for a moment. “What’s your favorite season?”

The woman looked out the living room window through the deep grey UV light protectors resting on the pane, it made everything look dark and fuzzy outside but she could still make out the tree outside her porch rustling in the wind, its leaves moving this way and that. Quietly, she spoke again, her eyes still on the outside, an airy quality to her words. “Summer.”

“Why not Summer, then? Do you like that?” It suited her, Saf thought to herself. Everything about her was so bright, so warm when she let it be, her hair glowing like rays, her golden skin, her melty eyes. 

She brought her gaze back to Safiya, but it didn’t look curious or shocked this time, her eyes rested easily on Saf’s scars (the same type of understanding she hadn’t seen on anyone since Vi). Summer smiled. “Yes. I’d like that a lot.”

[artangel3993]

this is pt 2 of this drabble and it wont rlly make sense w/o it!  time 4 violet. cw for i mean general fuckery that is conditionally present in the box boy universe, contracts n ownership discussed, also mention of drugs

the inspiration for the setting of the underground military bunker turned psychedelic warehouse is from a real case that was i think still the largest lsd bust in the 2000s which is neat. drug history! that link has pics of the actual bunker too and im p sure vice also did a documentary on it, its a really interesting case! anyways i just want to get to bunker time so i can introduce poppy bc i love her. 

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Safiya could not, for the life of her, figure out what the fuck was wrong with this algorithm. She kept running it through her IDE over and over, checked all the spellings of the variables, and it still wouldn’t run the way she needed it to, or be a functional block of code in any way, intended or not (she got that sometimes, when a program would run but it would do something completely fucking different than her intentions.) She dragged her hands down her eyes, and took another long sip of her energy drink. She hadn’t slept in two days and she was still behind on her end of the code for her company’s new game- which fucking sucked, but at the same time, Saf liked the challenge, the conflict. Having something to do. Vi left her with enough money that she’d never have to work a day in her life again and still be fine, but she was good at game development- well. Not right now, but in general. Right now, she was about to ring whoever invented C++ by the neck.

Safiya was set up at the table by the kitchen, hosting her computer, a jumble of folders and piles of unorganized papers, at least three finished Monster’s scattered in between it all, and herself: wrapped in a knitted blanket, the monitor’s blue light bathing her dark skin. Summer was a couple steps away on the couch, lying down on her stomach and watercoloring, her legs idly kicking this way and that in the air (when Saf was working, Summer liked to create with her, she’d put on one of Saf’s records and make all kinds of art in a concentrated, comfortable silence, but watercoloring was always her favorite. Sometimes she’d give Saf painted pictures of the characters in whatever game she was working on, which made Saf smile like an idiot every time and put them someplace safe.) There were still wildflowers and weeds weaved into Summer’s golden hair, mud caking her tennis shoes laid forgotten by the door, and a soft smile on her face; all clues that made Saf infer she’d probably been out in the garden this morning that Summer had recently started. Saf had a lot of land extending from the cottage she’d never explored and left wholly wild and uncared for, so Summer kind of took over. 

Now when Saf looked out one of the front windows, there were all kinds of flowers lining the house, fluffy bumblebees laying on their petals, the beginnings of an apple tree supported by two wooden poles on either side as big as the sapling was. Once, she got dressed in all of her protective clothing because Summer asked if she could bring her outside and show her the full tour, just to see her get excited talking about all the different seeds she’d planted, her plans to tie a swing to the big oak tree out front. Safiya, in those moments, felt like she knew Summer, really. Felt like she knew what she could do to keep her in that good place, and even if she still slipped into being far away, Saf could handle it.

(There were other kinds of days, too, when Summer felt like a completely different person and Safiya was out kicking in the fucking deep end with no understanding of what to do, if anything she could do would make a difference anyways. Sometimes Summer wouldn’t talk for days. Sometimes, she’d sit poised and elegant- on the couch or the rocking chair or her bed in what used to be the spare room- for hours and hours and hours with the only movement being her blinking every so often, her face otherwise looked like it was as trapped in a pose as the rest of her. Safiya would try sitting down with her, and talking as quiet and gentle as her voice would allow, ask her if she was alright, if she wanted to maybe stand up with her and they could take a little walk around the rooms of the cottage, maybe, or- or Saf could put on all of her gear and they could go outside together- take my hand, everything’s okay, you’re safe I promise- but Summer would be unresponsive at that point, staring straight ahead, and Safiya would realize just how fucking unqualified she was to try and help her at all.)

Safiya fell out of her thoughts as the record Summer put on got caught in a groove, and started repeating the same chord over and over. Summer’s head peeked up from the couch, and she walked over to the record player, delicately flipping the vinyl and motioning towards putting it back onto the player.

She never got the chance, though. The front door made a clicking sound, the hinges sighed, and Violet Lowe was standing in the doorframe. Summer dropped the vinyl and it shattered. 

“I thought I changed my locks.” Safiya didn’t move from where she spoke.

Violet shrugged. “You did.” There was quiet. She closed the door behind her to keep the light out.

Safiya stood up, her blanket dropping to the floor, and she felt stupid for being in her sweats and a pair of fucking crocs because it would be really great if she was anything close to intimidating right now. Still, she walked over to Vi, putting herself in between her and Summer. 

Safiya intended to say a lot of things to her, everything that had been boiling in her mind since the morning Vi left and didn’t come back, insults and how could yous and I deserve better than thats. Instead, this is what came out: “I missed you, Vi. So much.” If, Saf thought, she was just a little less emotionally stunted, there’d be tears in her eyes. She really thought Vi wasn’t going to come back this time.

Violet smiled, but it was unreadable behind her sunglasses. She was definitely selling again, it showed in the gold and silver coiling around her fingers in serpentine rings and  dripping down her neck, contrasted starkly against her black cocktail dress. She had new heeled boots that made her stand almost as tall as Summer was, their glossy cold-black finish the exact same shade as her perfectly maintained bob. “I know you missed me. It’s why I came back.”

“Where have you been selling?” Saf knew Vi had friends in the business with mansions up and down the west coast they’d hop around, going from city to city giving out all kinds of compounds and getting rich as fuck in the process, living like psychedelic royalty. But this felt different, she’d been gone for too long.

Vi shook her head. “Not selling. Manufacturing. That’s where the real money is. We don’t have to move around, either, we bought this underground military bunker-”

“A bunker. An underground military bunker.” How the fuck do you just buy an underground military bunker.

Vi mhm’d impatiently, as if she was puzzled as to Saf not being able to keep up. “It used to be for large weapons storage, but it got auctioned off. One of the smartest decisions me and Nic ever made.” Sometimes Saf didn’t recognize the names Vi would rattle off, but Nic, Nic she knew from the one time she’d been with Saf while she was away on her business trips. She swallowed the memories she, frankly, could not be less prepared to deal with, back down.

Violet took Safiya’s hands in hers, the cold metal of her rings making imprints against Saf’s fingers. “Saf, Elana’s making psychoactive compounds nobody’s even theorized about before, with the amount of privacy we have there. You understand? We’re about to change the drug underbelly of this entire nation. And I want you there with me.”

“I’d go with you?” Vi’d never offered to take her with, ever since everything happened that summer, with her Vi, Elana and Nic. Safiya looked back at Summer in her floral sundress (she only wore that one on days when she was feeling good, Saf knew it was her favorite,) who at that point had pressed herself against the wall, standing straight and dead silent, staring at the both of them, her face unreadably calm to most, but Saf knew she only disconnected like that when she was fucking terrified. The record was still in pieces on the ground. With both eyes on her, Summer peeled herself off of the wall and hurriedly started picking up the shattered bits. Safiya moved towards her, breaking Vi’s grip. “It’s alright, Summer, I’ve got this, don’t worry about it-”

“Summer?” Vi said behind her, and Safiya realized just how badly she does not want these two people in her life to interact ever. Fuck. “It suits her so well. How have you liked my birthday present for you so far?”

Safiya stomped back up to Violet, and in a whisper edging on a growl, “We are not doing this right now Vi.” Saf would make grave eye contact with her if it weren’t for the fact that Vi still had her fucking shades on. 

“Now, if you had such a problem with my generosity, she’d be gone by now, wouldn’t she?” And then, after a moment, she added: “Stop acting like a saint, Safiya. You’ve never been a good liar.”

The room buzzed with the echo of her words, and Safiya stood there, quiet, for a dragged out moment, trying to think of some way to spit back at her. It didn’t happen. With the most calm face she can put on right now, she turned back to Summer. “Summer, maybe you should... go outside, for a little bit. I’ll tell you when I’ve shown Violet out.” She makes those last words taste like venom, matter-of-fact, so Vi can hear her anger. 

“No, she can stay.”

Summer stopped dead in her tracks. Looking at the fear in her eyes, that sinking look that overpowered any kind of calm Summer usually had when Saf was there, Saf knew she was lost. Summer was listening to Vi, now, all Vi, the kind of gone Saf was all too familiar with people getting under Vi’s words.

“Anyways,” Vi said, a tad annoyed, as if all of that had just been a mere blip in the conversation, turning her head to address Saf, “yes, you’re coming with. You’d be safe in the bunker, I made sure of it. All of your special lights. I want…. I want you there. With me.”

If this had been in literally any other context, Safiya would’ve smiled at Vi’s effort to communicate her feelings, Saf had been with her for years and she knew how hard it was for her to even understand her own emotions, much less say them out loud. But she was pissed at her, and she was going to hold onto that feeling for as long as she could to make her feel worse. “Summer stays here.” There was no way in hell she was going to let Summer anywhere near Vi’s fucked up drug empire. 

Vi just fucking shrugged. “She’s coming.”

Saf charged at her again, pointing an accusing finger at her and getting close enough until it buried into the fabric of Vi’s dress. “You can act like I’m as fucked up as you are but I would never trust her with your or your f-”

Vi smiled, and batted Saf’s hand off of her as if she was a somewhat disinterested cat. “Let me rephrase that. My name is on her contract. She’s coming.”

[artangel3993]

summer meets the gang: pt 2

nic and elana time! u have met everyone now. welcome to the girl disaster gang + a stupid emotional support gamer. this is part 2 of another piece, which can be found if u click the ‘prev’ link below

cw:  general warning for box boy universe stuff, mentioning the facility and the conditioning that entails, drug use, lacing drugs, fem whumper and whumpee, a little bit of medical stuff, general dehumanization

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So they went back, to Violet and Poppy, to their whole world now, Summer following a few steps behind Safiya. Time sped up. Safiya let her hand leave Summer’s and find Violet’s. Summer watched. Violet said something about Poppy showing her around the bunker, and Summer pretended to hear her. Poppy then thrusted her arm around Summer’s side, jokingly pulling her into a buddies-side-hug to go along with something she was saying that Summer couldn’t make herself listen to, she was just thinking about how much she wanted Poppy’s hand off of her, she couldn’t have touch, she wasn’t supposed to have touch, until it fell away. “...and Summer and I’ll be the best of friends by the end, won’t we?” Poppy’s voice came. Summer didn’t say anything.

Violet nodded her head approvingly, and then led Safiya off into a metal hallway. That was it. For the first time in two months, Summer was without her. She felt small, all of the sudden, like she was slowly closing in on herself, down the drain. She watched Violet and Safiya get tinier and tinier in her vision until they turned a corner and disappeared completely.

“Summer?? Earth to Summer?” Summer shook her head and snapped out of it, locking eyes with Poppy, who smiled at her. “So. Are you ready for your tour?”

Poppy outstretched her hand. Summer, tentatively, reached out and took it. Violet wanted her to go with her. That was what she needed to focus on now. Poppy was… a lot, in Summer’s mind, too loud and bright, it was a bit accosting. She watched Poppy’s eyes dart across the numbers on Summer’s wrist before they joined hands and Poppy tugged her into one of the rows of industrial shelves, their eyes meeting. “I didn’t mean to stare, honest.” Both of their footfalls echoed against the concrete, and Poppy looked down in thought. “Here. I can show you mine too-” she took her hand from Summer’s and pulled her kandi further down her right wrist, “-so we can be even, see.”

She held out her inner arm for Summer, her hand in a fist, 533062 printed in a neat black font beneath all of Poppy’s plastic beads. So that’s what she meant when she said she’s Violet’s, oh god, and she felt her throat tighten. Summer hadn’t realized. Poppy shuffled her bracelets back over it after a self conscious moment, crossing her arms around her chest and twirling the fabric of her shirt under her fingers as they walked in silence further and further into the shadows of the shelves blocking out the chandelier. Summer looked at her again. She was so expressive, Summer wondered how she’d survived the facility, why that part of her wasn’t gone yet. (A piece of her ached for Poppy, in that moment, some secret pact they shared with those numbers, and made her resolve to herself that she couldn’t be that bad to be around. Even if she was loud and came from a bunker full of people Summer didn’t trust.)

“Why are your eyes like that?” Summer asked. It was quiet but she wanted to try to talk to her. She looked like she needed the distraction.

Poppy frowned. “Is the dilation really that bad?”

Summer didn’t have anything to compare it to, so she shrugged.

“I’m on, uh, approximately a fuck ton of shrooms right now,” she smiled when she said it, like it was an inside joke just for herself. “Elana knows the actual, like, number but yeah. Scientifically I would describe it as a whole bunch. Oh!” They reached the end of the shelves and were faced by a metal door in the wall, which Poppy threw open. “You’re going to want to see this!”

Inside was a tunnel-like hallway that ran straight across, the walls itself completely circular besides a little concrete path along the floor, metal curving above her and making her feel like her and Poppy were shrunk down and put inside a PVC pipe. “This is one of my favorite places in the bunker,” Poppy yelled back to her, running ahead and gliding her hand along the curved walls. “We call it the Tunnel. It’s very fun when you’re tripping.”

They opened the door at the end and the bunker’s whole world poured out on the other end. Poppy took Summer through room after extravagant room, each one looking like a little palace had been stuffed inside this strange hole in the ground. They had a lot of money to throw around the place and it showed, sitting rooms full of antiques in the middle of a windowless maze. Summer was overwhelmed by it all. Sometimes, around a hidden corner, there would be blankets and pillows all thrown in a comfortable looking pile, and Poppy would explain that they were one of her nests- “I don’t have a room, they were all moved in when they got me, but I do make a lot of nests. Or I’ll just go sleep in Nic’s room. Or Elana’s. I figure it out. Listen to me Summer- this is of… grave importance. I am giving you access to all of my nests. You can sleep in any of them, just like, don’t fuck them up. You’re the only person in the world to have been given this honor.” Summer played along and nodded solemnly.

They were walking through a hallway into another portion of the bunker when Summer spoke up. “The other people Violet mentioned, the ones she works with...”

“Nic and Elana, yeah. What about them? Their rooms are the next stop on the tour, we can say hi.”

Summer stopped walking. Her face was blank with fear. They were close associates of the woman who owned her, and she couldn’t mess this up. She couldn’t go to the facility for a third time.

Poppy looked behind her when Summer didn’t keep up. “C’mon, Summer. You’re going to be fine, they’re probably too wrapped up in their nerd projects to even notice you.” Poppy grabbed onto her hand and Summer didn’t fight it. “Now let’s go. Together, yeah?” Poppy held up their intertwined hand and gave her a sheepish smile.

They walked a little bit down the hall until they approached a door, loud digital noises coming from the other end.

“Alright, so.” Poppy untangled her hand from Summer’s and positioned herself back to the door as if she was a news anchor giving a report live on the scene. “This is Nic’s room. He does- uh, you know how Violet is in charge of all the money, pricing, budgeting, negotiating, that kind of thing?” Summer hadn’t known that but she nodded anyways. “Nic’s basically glorified IT and is kind of the only thing keeping us from getting busted. He makes sure our location’s always scrambled if we’re doing business online, encrypts our messages to and from potential buyers, yeah. A lot of other stuff I don’t really get. We would be fucked if it weren’t for him. He’s also just a fucking incel and acts like a doormat and games a lot and I hate him and he’s my best friend.”

Poppy raised her hand to knock on the door and Summer whined, trying to grab her fist. “Summer, please,” Poppy said, “this is quite literally the least intimidating man in the world. You’ll be fine.”

Poppy knocked and then waited half a second before barging right on in.

Summer followed. Nic’s room was in an almost comical disarray, band posters plastered everywhere, clothes hanging haphazardly off his bed and cluttering his floor. What Summer assumed must be Nic was sat on a ridiculously large gaming chair, all black with red streaks running the sides. Before him was a table with two monitors on it, one open on some kind of first person game, the other on a chatroom, messages flying too fast to read. Poppy jumped onto his lap, the force from her leap causing his chair to spin a full 360.

“This is the gaming police, stop what you’re doing and meet my new friendddd,” Poppy told him as they spun, pulling off Nic’s headphones.

Nic sighed and rested his head back on his chair. “Poppy. I’m- uh, actively streaming. Like, right now.”

“And?” Poppy smiled at him teasingly, her arms oh his shoulders. “Pause your nerd stream, bitch. I want attention.”

“I can’t pause a stream, the whole point is the fact that it’s, like, live… ” but Poppy wasn’t listening, at this point she’d already turned herself around and was squinting at the chat monitor, leaning into the mic on his desk to speak.

“this bitch again ffs,” she read from the chat, grabbing the base of the table microphone, “yeah, fragz_only97, I’m back. Problem?”

Nic leaned into the mic clumsily from behind her. “Alright guys I’m gonna, uh. I’ll be back in a couple minutes,” he said, moving his mouse to the stream monitor and pressing a button to make a little be back soon picture appear over the feed of the game, placing the headphones Poppy’d ripped off him carefully on the desk. She turned to face him.

“Jesus, your pupils got huge.”

Poppy nodded, her eyelids moving all slow. “I fucking know. They’re never like this just on shrooms.”

“Elana’s been looking for you,” Nic said, his tone almost in a warning.

Poppy laughed. “You want to know a secret?” She leaned in closer to him. “I swear Elana laced them with something else.” She looked around for a moment, and then: “Liquid LSD, probably. It wouldn’t have tasted any different. She thinks she’s so smart.” Poppy rolled her eyes. “Oh wait, I almost forgot!” She climbed off of him, turning his chair to face where Summer was standing, just in the threshold of the entrance. She felt like an intruder. “Nic, Summer’s here!”

Poppy continued. “She’s from the same company as me, but she’s been with Violet’s girlfriend this whole time. Violet just got back from picking them up.” Nic coughed, looking this way and that, rubbing his hand to the back of his neck in what looked like a nervous tic. There was a long quiet, and then Poppy looked to Nic. “Oh my god, introduce yourself, stupid.”

He gave Summer an awkward wave. “Hi, I’m uh- Nic, it’s. It’s nice to-”

A woman’s voice called out from the hallway. “Poppy?”

Poppy froze up entirely. Even Nic stopped talking. “Yes, Elana?” Poppy said, in what must’ve been the most passive voice Summer had heard from her since getting here.

Poppy crept to the doorframe, past Summer, moving as if she was being pulled by some invisible thread, and Summer couldn’t help but faintly peak her head out of Nic’s room, too. This must be Elana, Summer thought, her breath starting to quicken, but she forced her thoughts down.

She was standing from the doorway to a room farther along the hall, long curly brown hair and warm skin wearing a high collared shirt with a smart-looking sweater over it. She had a clipboard in her hand, something else Summer couldn’t make out resting on top of it. Poppy walked toward her dizzily.

Elana looked cross under her glasses, holding an arm out for Poppy to grab onto. Poppy crossed her arms around herself instead, looking up at her.

“Where have you been?”

Poppy looked over her shoulder, her eyes meeting Summer’s. “Showing Summer around…” she started, and Summer immediately poked her head back out of the hallway, leaning her forehead on the frame. She wanted to stay invisible for just a little while longer if she could.

“Hm." Summer knew that voice, the kind you’d use to a child playing make believe. “Put this on.” The sound of velcro tearing.  

Summer heard Poppy’s whine. “No. I don’t want that thing on me.”

Elana audibly sighed. “I need to keep track of your bpm. So you either wear this, or you spend the rest of your trip in my room where I can monitor you.”

“You’re a fucking dick, you know that?” And then, after a moment: “Fine. Give it to me.”

There was velcro being snapped back on. “There. Was that so bad?”

“Yes and also fuck you. Hey. Elana. Hey Elana. I know that wasn’t just shrooms. Tell me what else you gave me.”

The metal screech of what Summer thought must be the top of the clipboard. The sound of a pen clicking. “Giving you any details about the compounds you consumed, psilocybin or not, would entirely compromise the conditions of my experiment. Now look at me.”

Summer peaked back into the hallway right in time to see Elana shine a light into Poppy’s eyes, scribble something on her clipboard. There was something on Poppy’s neck, now, and that made Summer swallow, place a hand against her own collarbone instinctively. “Perfect. Alright. Visual?”

Elana wrote as Poppy spoke. “Uh… colors are fun right now. There’s halos around some stuff. One of Nic’s eyes didn’t look like it was in the right place, hah… ”

“Focus, Poppy.”

“Right. And, uh- the walls. Are breathing again. That’s it.”

“Good.” Elana made a final note, and then looked up. “Auditory?”

“Everything sounds like it’s ringing. People from across the room sound like they’re right next to me.” Poppy’s running through it like a laundry list, jittery and mildly disinterested, and it made Summer wonder how many times they’ve done this. Elana scribbled on.

“Tactile?”

Poppy shook her head.

“Olfactory or taste?”

“Nothing- wait. I drank a lukewarm Mountain Dew in the kitchen when I was coming up and it tasted funny.”

Elana looked up at her, blowing a strand of hair out of her vision, and rolled her eyes at Poppy.

Poppy shifted her weight between her feet all antsy. “Are we done here?”

Elana looked like she was in thought for a moment, pressing her glasses back up the bridge of her nose, and then: “Yes. Remember to come see me in the next thirty minutes for data collection again, alright? And don’t take that off.” Elana stepped back into the threshold of what Summer was assuming was her own doorway.

“Yeah, whatever, thanks for nothing,” Poppy said as the door shut in front of her.

Poppy stood there, for a moment, softly kicking the door once in a small frustration, talking to herself all quiet under her breath. Then, she sighed, wrapping her arms around herself, looking at the floor dissociated, hunched over. Summer didn’t like seeing Poppy like this. It was too intimate a moment. She decided to, quietly, come out of Nic’s room and approach her.

“Oh. Hey Summer.” She offered Summer a weak smile, and Summer couldn’t help but notice how much everything about Poppy had just been… taken down a notch. It irked her. She had a long black strap around her neck, with some sort of plastic black box resting right next to her jugular.

Poppy must have noticed the stare. “It measures my heartbeat. One of Elana’s weird science things. Whatever. Okay, tour.”

Poppy, just like with Nic’s door, put herself in front of it, facing Summer, her news anchor voice coming back, smiling in a way that felt so fake, now, that made Summer rethink all of her other expressions up until now, “This is Elana’s room. She’s the chemist. She’s the chemist and she’s... a dick, half the time, at least. She isn’t that bad, not really. I’m just angry and I want to say she sucks so she sucks. There. Tour over.”