#fucking intern a players handbook at least.

[pilmyeol]

dropout needs better closed captioners i cannot take this anymore

[technomaestro]

Oh? Tell us about the characters on that list then

*slaps character sheet* this bad boy can fit so much of my own repressed trauma in it

This one could be fuckin *all* of them, but it's probably Kelarvia Arana, aka Kel. Poor dwarven fighter exile from Orzamar who turned to the Qun, was trained wrong as a spy, failed her family, failed the qun, failed her friends, and kept trying to do right. She was... not bright. She took a face full of acid breath for her troubles, got repeatedly stabbed by everyone around her, and still kept fucking trying. She was not in a great place by the end of that campaign.

Closeted Trans Person Gender Envy Character™

So, while I'm very much cis, I did toy around with the idea of genderfluidity and transness at one point. And the closest character to that would have been a major NPC that I had in my pokemon game, Claire deVire. She was a literal illusionist / Fairy Type mage, and honestly one of my favorite NPCs to use in the game. I played her as a confident and experienced trainer who had an air of mystery, was clever and flirtatious, and who had a very accomplished team including trans icon Sylveon. She is/was one of the main *villains* of the campaign, but that's besides the point. If I was a girl, she's who I'd want to be - but I'm pretty solid in my gender at this point.

sexy

That would be Lucas Maignard, the Silver Lion. Not just your average silver fox, but a nobleman who absolutely could rock it. Think Rollo from Vikings except salt and pepper hair. He was power hungry, a staunch revanchist of his family's ancestral title and he would go to every length it took to reclaim it, including trying to seduce the King's consort. He, notably, caused at least one if not more international incidents by insulting the soccer abilities of a neighboring kingdom.

He may have had the highest charisma of any character I've played.

idealized version of myself

Allow me to introduce you to Broderic Gullet, a 6'6 tall constantly drunken scotsman Barbarian with a hammer who was unkillable. Literally - he actually died at one point and came back to life because he was too damn stubborn to leave before his friends had gotten to safety, and some passing spirit possessed him and turned him into an abomination. He was jovial, friendly, could talk to his cat Mr. Pickles, and wonderfully buff enough he could hug all his friends at once. Plus he was a trained chef.

As Fruity And Extra As Possible

Oh this is easy. The Satyr Diplomat Cheldric delWolpertinger, a man who *honestly* should have read the recommended reading before being sent to deliver very important documents (these were actually talking frogs!). He was supposed to board a new train on the mountainous passage to Westport, but forgot his ticket. When the train left, he literally jumped (and I mean I cast "jump" and specifically was a Satyr for their Mirthful Leaps feature which adds 1d8 to my jump distance) onto the back of the train. Unfortunately, the murder of the conductor was a bit of an issue, but Cheldric and some other passengers put their heads together to solve the mystery.

furry

So, allow me to set the stage for Albie, Traitor to Crowkind. A Kenku that was as much benefit to the party as he was walking, curse triggering hazard, this absolute buffoon would do what he could to simultaneously help the party while also doing his best not to piss of Strahd too much. A lighting bolt cast into the middle of melee that hit everyone totally gives him plausible deniability for who survives.

I think my favorite memory though is when one of the other party members just opened his beak and he started reciting the Book of Strahd like Stitch plays that record in Lilo & Stitch

A good runner up here would also be Nilbo, a Kobold Druid who only became a druid because it let him wild shape into progressively bigger lizards and dinosaurs. No other animals, just scales.

I Saw One Of The Extra Fantasy Races That Aren’t In The Player’s Handbook And Almost Had A Stroke

Listen. Listen to me. I fucking love Warforged. I will *always* go to bat for magical robots. They're amazing and I've played so many, from psions to storm domain clerics to the most recent one, Hymn, a gender-neutral Celestial Pact Warlock Warforged who got his abilities because he was a socialist. No, I'm not joking - he was made for usage by the Church of the Sovereign Host, but when a wandering heretical priest came by wondering why the church didn't do more, Hymn started going out at night to perform direct action and mutual aid. Being not that smart, he accidentally wandered into a cult's base and released a captive celestial, who gifted him the power to help more.

a race + class that typically would not go together

I'm of a tossup here - the Halfling Artificer Posco Harfoot, who was a member of the Justicars and in order to even the playing field, built himself a goddamn magitek mech in order to go toe to toe with the other peacekeepers, or of Tiberius Vanderwhinn, an elven Path of the Zealot barbarian who was *extremely* keen on getting his libraries late fees sorted, and gods help you if you dared shout in his library.

sexy criminal

Very few things are sexier than a tiefling, and that would be Boreo Lieran, the Tiefling Bard. Boreo was a staunch contender for the "As fruity as possible" but this pansexual beast is much more in line here because the man seduced half the party prior to or during session 1. Having a prehensile tail and the ability to pick up the gnome lass in the party by it for him to tease probably helped.

Of course, such a man was hilariously illegal, because not only did he smuggle and steal like, 90% of his luxury goods that he used to pamper himself with, he would absolutely flaunt a total disregard for property rights and find himself making grand entrances into peoples homes and lives as part of his wayward caravan, leaving a trail of chaos in his wake.

himbo

One of the more recent characters I've played. Cadmus, Son of Abraxes! A "human" wizard on the plane of Theros, this man is the half-divine son of the literal personification of the pride of a polis that was wiped off the face of the world by the gods for their Hubris. So, an active devotee of the god of victory, and actively blaspheming the goddess of destiny at every turn (As he would put it, we hold the pen in our hands, she merely hoards the ink), his goal was to perform deeds good enough to earn a place as a constellation under the stars. He would only *ever* sleep outside at night, even in cities, because he wanted to rest with them as he knew one day he would for eternity.

[vicunaburger]

Admittedly, I’m Hard to See

Fandom: Beetlejuice the Musical Chapters: 13.1/? Pairing: Beetlejuice x OC (Holidae) The Players: Beetlejuice, Lydia Deetz, Holidae Bell Word Count: 2,301 Warnings: M for Suggestive Content and Language

Notes: I had to break this one up because it was getting away from me. Part 2 coming soon~

Chapter 13.1 - In Which the Mind is a Terrible Thing to Use

Time was a weird concept when you were dead.

Minutes, hours, days: none of them really had any meaning anymore. They were just arbitrary things that kept the mortal realm in line, dictating the daily lives of those still living in it. The Neitherworld time difference was one of the hardest things for the Recently Deceased to grasp upon entry, and it was part of Beetlejuice’s job as a guide to break it down in simple terms. Congrats! You’re dead, do what you want because you’re here forever. Take up a hobby or something, it makes the days go by faster.

When he was in the mortal realm, he never really paid attention to the passage of time, but he knew it happened.

It had been dark when Holidae had dragged him topside, and now her room was brighter with sunlight peeking through dark curtains. He wondered if Holidae even realized time had passed that much, since she had her nose buried in the Handbook for a while now. She had let him sit with her this whole time, occasionally leaning against his shoulder to find a more comfortable reading position.

When he realized it was already nearing the middle of the day, he offered to leave her alone so that she could sleep, something he knew breathers had to do, “Hey, your eyes are gonna cross if you keep that up. Go to bed or something, I gotta check on a project back on the Other Side anyway.”

Holidae looked up from her reading, blinking at him to let her eyes adjust, “You’re leaving me?”

Beetlejuice had been lighting up a cigarette, but her question made him pause, the unlit smoke hanging from the corner of his mouth. Something in that tone of voice was… familiar. A little nagging worm in the back of his mind that he couldn’t quite pin down.

“I won’t stay away too long, babes. You won’t even miss me that much.” He chuckled, resuming his task and taking a long drag, puffing out jagged little smoke heart in her direction. “I know how eager you are to have me all to yourself. I don’t blame you; all this sexiness within arm’s reach for so long… your willpower it amazing, ya know?”

Frowning, she waved the smoke away, “Not going to miss the crushing weight of your ego, that’s for damn sure.”

Chuckling, Beej snapped his fingers, vanishing with a soft pop. Holidae rolled her eyes, sliding off the bed and going over to check the alarm clock on the dresser, wincing when she noticed it was already the afternoon. Hearing movement from downstairs, she quickly changed out of her pajamas, heading down to see what Lydia was up to.

Lydia was by the front door, one foot planted firmly on the top of an overstuffed suitcase as she attempted to close it, struggling with the zipper. Holidae skipped down the stairs two at a time, going over to kneel down and help to make sure nothing was being caught in the closure.

“Jesus, Lyddy, you’re going away for one night. Do you really need all this stuff?” Holidae mumbled, stuffing a frilly lace skirt back inside the suitcase. “Are you going for a fashion show?”

“Hey, you never know what can happen in the uninhabited part of the woods at night. What if some cryptid comes out and want to borrow an evening look? I’m not going to be rude, Holli.” Lydia snickered, managing to secure the small padlock on the closure.

Laughing, Holidae helped to lift the suitcase up onto its wheels, “I can’t argue with that logic. Just make sure you take the dress to the dry cleaner’s afterwards. Might have fleas.”

“Speaking of fleas, it’s your turn for chores this weekend. I’ve already seen this house looking like a Halloween haunt once, don’t let it happen without me, okay?” Lydia grabbed the car keys of the entryway table, dragging the suitcase behind her as she headed outside.

———

Holidae spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning the house from top to bottom; mainly not wanting to incur Lydia’s wrath should the house get another inch of dust before she returned, but it also served to take her mind off of other things. Her sudden burst of confidence in inviting her ghostly roommate to spend the weekend with her… alone… she wasn’t normally such a forward person. Her brain was having a time of it; trying to decide if she should try and politely rescind the invitation, or just jump in with both feet.

Reading the Handbook hadn’t really done much to ease her fears, seeing as there was absolutely no useful information on whether or not such activities were even allowed, let alone possible. Were the going to be consequences? Did they need to take any extra precautions? How did he even retain a sex drive with no functioning organs? Obviously, Beej wasn’t shy about getting a little frisky with her, but was it done through some sort of non-biological means?

Over-thinking about such things were probably why she hadn’t slept in the past 24 hours.

Holidae halfheartedly pushed the broom around the outdoor deck, trying to gather the fallen leaves into a pile. A sudden breeze kicked up some fallen foliage, disrupting the progress she had made in sweeping the porch clear of debris. Groaning, she knelt down and picked up one of the leaves, glaring at it as though it were the sole cause of her internal torments.

“Why must you taunt me, huh? I just get this all clear and pretty and moderately balanced in some semblance of external harmony. And now you ruin it so casually?” She tossed the leaf into the small pile she had gathered with a huff.

Not wanting to be deterred from her task, she slipped her phone from her back pocket, queuing up some music to break up the silence of the outdoors. Once she found something suitable, she placed the phone on the nearby lawn chair, turning up the volume.

It was a bouncy tune; one that made it impossible not to add a few extra flourishes to her broom strokes, sweeping along to the rhythm. Before long, all intentions of actually cleaning had ceased, and Holidae was far more concerned with pulling off fantastic moves with her dance partner. For a broom, it was surprisingly limber as she swung her arms wide, twirling in some bastardized ballroom number created just for this occasion. Waltz for an autumn cleaning spree.

“You’re making a mess.” A familiar, gravel laden voice cut over the music.

Holidae looked around wildly, clutching the broom to her chest in surprise, noticing the ghost casually lounging on the lawn chair. He held her phone in one hand, scrolling idly; a half-finished cigarette burning in the other.

“Holly-baby, you’ve been holding out on me. All these cute underwear pics… and you never bothered to share? I’m hurt. Who’s been seeing these if not me?” Beetlejuice waves the phone around for emphasis. “Do I need to remove some dude’s eyeballs now?”

Her face cherry-red, she marched over and snatched the phone away, “Hey, that’s private stuff, jerkass.”

Upon inspection, the phone was set on the lock screen, meaning he hadn’t been browsing her private photos as he had claimed. Beej sat up with interest, laughing at her panicked state.

“Ah-ha! So you do have sexy pictures on that thing. Give it here… don’t you know sharing is caring?” He held out his hand impatiently. “Call it a sneak preview.”

Holidae shoved the phone into her pocket, “Whether or not such pictures exist is none of your concern. And please don’t go around removing eyeballs. Or at least don’t tell me about it. I don’t want to be complicit.”

“It’s very much my concern, babes. I should be the only one getting the honor of seeing every bit of you from now on. But fine, I will keep you out of my eyeball collection.” Beej reached up, hooking a finger through the belt loop of her jeans, tugging playfully. “So, Cinderella, you done playing housekeeper? I could always get you a little maid outfit for authenticity.”

“Well, technically I’m done, but there’s always- eep!” Holidae was cut off, having been picked up and thrown over Beetlejuice’s shoulder like a sack of flour. “Put me down! This is undignified!”

Beetlejuice ignored her struggling, humming a nonsense tune as he glided through the house, heading up the stairs. Holidae kicked her feet in protest, stringing a few choice words together as she was carried around with little effort. One of her kicks landed dangerously close to a rather sensitive area below his belt, earning her a sharp smack across her backside.

“Ow. Fuck you!” She hissed, gripping his coat as he floated up the stairs. “I don’t like this one bit! Put me down or I’ll kick you again, and I won’t miss.”

Undeterred by her protesting, the ghost continued all the way into the attic, unceremoniously depositing her on the ratty sofa; having been folded up at some point. She sank into the half-stuffed cushions, propping herself against the arm of the sofa, angrily scrunching herself as far into the corner as she could fit. The ghost settled himself into the opposite corner, amused with how flustered he had made her in such a short time.

“Holli~” Beetlejuice was purring deep in his throat, “Babydoll, look at me.”

“No,” Holidae kicked at him with her feet.

He chuckled, “C’mon. Look, I’ll apologize if you just look at me. I don’t say sorry often, so I think you should take advantage of this opportunity. Look look look…”

With a heavy sigh and a roll of her eyes, Holidae turned to look at him, “You are such a pain in the- JESUS CHRIST.”

Beetlejuice was sitting with one leg folded over the other, his arm draped across the back of the sofa. A perfectly normal pose… save for the fact he was stark naked. His pale coloring covered his entire body; the bits of green-tinted mold dotting various parts of him. A thin smattering of chest hair - green of course, matching his hair - made a trail down his pudgy stomach, the rest hidden by his crossed leg. She could only assume that all of his hair sported the same color-changing hue, but wasn’t about to ask. The only thing really out of place about him was the fact there was a brutal looking scar in between two of his ribs.

Holidae stared, slack jawed like a fish, unable to look away for far too long; desperately keeping her eyes locked onto his face. Beej waggled his eyebrows in an exaggerated manner, gesturing over himself with his free hand.

“I’m sorry I made you undignified or whatever.” He attempted a sorry look, “I take it you like what you see? All this can be yours~ whenever you want. As an apology.”

“I… I can’t look anywhere but your face.” Holidae stuttered, a flush of color spreading out from her nose across her cheeks. “P-Please put on pants. At least pants.”

The ghost mumbled disapprovingly, but complied with her request to a degree; a pair of boxer shorts covering the most scandalous bits of him for the moment. Breathing a sigh of relief, Holidae allowed herself to relax against the arm of the sofa, running a hand through her hair as she gave him a better look-over this time.

“Ah, good, my plan worked.” Beej crawled over to her side of the sofa, squishing her playfully between his body and the cushions.

Holidae head-butted him, “The plan to embarrass me to death?”

He shook his head, conveniently resting his face on her chest, “My ice-breaker. Getting naked. You ever heard of that old thing where if you’re awkward about something, you picture people naked? I cut out the middleman. You’ve now seen me naked, so it you won’t be embarrassed about later, and now we just gotta work on getting you naked.”

“That’s an ice-breaker to you? That’s… that’s like final step territory. What kind of person just immediately disrobes like that? Okay, well, not everyone can just magic their clothes away like you, but it’s the point.” She pouted, brushing through the shorter hairs at the nape of his neck with her fingers.

“...hookers?” He offered, taking a moment to adjust her legs so he was between them, using her body as furniture instead of the sofa.

“Ah, good point, but you don’t strike me as a street walker.” Her skin grew warm under her sweatshirt, fully processing the mostly naked man lounging with her. “Even then I think there’s a least a few minutes beforehand where it’s all business transaction talk. So, being naked immediately is optional. Plus, what if the client wants to keep their clothes on? There’s too many variables, Juice. Did you even account for activities that don’t require disrobing at all?”

Holidae realized she was rambling, her nerves having set her brain on fast-talking auto pilot to cover the fact she was stalling the whole situation with him. She glanced down, finding herself face to face with a pair of molten gold eyes, practically glowing in the sunlight in the attic window. It was so easy to forget how inhuman he was; things like that were a stark reminder.

Beetlejuice had a lazy grin on his face, a few sharp teeth peeking out from the corner of his mouth, content with watching the breather talk circles around him.

Not the breather. His breather.

As much as she tried to ignore him, or refuse his playful offers, he could see it in her face as she stared back at him. Who else would let him lie around like this? Who else would validate his need for constant attention without even realizing she was doing it? This was not a bestest best friend: he already had one of those.

This was a Holidae: and he only wanted one of those.

Before he could utter so much as a snarky quip, her hands grabbed the sides of his face, pulling him close, and she closed the gap between them with a kiss.

Writing Tags: @mr-geuse @paxenera @leiasolo77 @go-commander-kim @ashemspirit @asriells

[heartslogos]

newfragile yellows [417]

Bull wakes up because Ellana wakes up. He’s not sure why Ellana woke up, because his internal clock is telling him that it’s nowhere close to morning. As in the morning people wake up to and accept as a good time to start the day - like, eight or nine. It’s maybe around just past midnight.

“What?” Bull says, listening to Ellana breathe a she recovers from the initial jolt of waking up so abruptly. “What’s wrong?”

“I had a nightmare,” Ellana says and then she drags one of his arms over her and wedges herself as far into his chest and side as she can. “It was terrible. You guys made me tank as a cleric. What kind of shitty party are you guys that you make me tank as a cleric.”

Bull closes his eye again and does his best to let himself unmoor himself from being wake and go back to sleep.

“And I kept rolling fails and - I don’t know why but Herah was our DM and she kept raising the difficulty level each time and literally all of you were holding your turn for me to do something? But I could do literally nothing.”

“I don’t know how I didn’t know you were a fucking nerd,” Bull says. “I have no idea how you pulled that one over me for years. I slept in your apartment half the time. You had a one bedroom apartment the size of our current living room. And somehow you managed to hide all evidence that you were a the biggest gamer geek ever. Now we have an entire game room and I have to fight you for space.”

“The only reason you ever caught me was because I let you and sometimes I regret it because I think I could’ve kept you in the dark for at least another year,” Ellana says. “And you were just so cute when you were being all nice and trying to play it cool while you were obviously bouncing around the inside of your own head like a little boy in a candy store every time I gave the idea of casual interest in any reference you made. How could I deny either of us that? You liked teaching me Dungeons and Dragons basics.”

“If I had known that you’d been a player since forever we could’ve gotten into the good shit.”

“You’d have been defensive, baby.”

She’s not wrong, but Bull can’t think of a good response right now. He can’t think a lot of things right now.

“Can we talk about this later?”

“Listen, the nightmare gets worse and I need to talk about it because I’m scared that if I go back to sleep it’ll pick up where it left off.”

“Didn’t you train yourself to lucid dream?”

“Babe.”

“You had several successive fails with an increasing challenge rating.”

“And then my brother came in and he pointed at me and called me a false idol.”

Bull opens his eyes and lifts his head for that, “What?”

“Yeah. And this is where things get really weird,” Ellana says, staring up at the ceiling. “Everyone at the table started chanting false idol over and over and Herah told me to roll my dice and I did and of course it was another failure and then everyone started to…quiz me? On the handbook? And various other stuff? I think you guys were trying to gamer gate me or something. It was so bizarre and I was just staring at you all because it was so weird and then the police came.”

“Someone called the police on you in your dream?”

“Yeah and it just - it just kept getting weirder and weirder. Like people came out to stare at me and point and I was walking to the station in the middle of the street with the squad car slowly driving behind me and this hoard of people following and staring and chanting. I am one hundred percent certain that there’s subtext and shit to that but right now I’m terrified that I’ll go back to sleep and I’ll be tied to a stake with people about to set me on fire.”

“Did you, by any chance, eat something when I wasn’t looking? Right before we went to sleep?”

“I had a glass of milk before we went to sleep but that’s because your curry was really strong.”

“Yeah, it’d been in the fridge for three days with all the chili seeds marinating in it. It’s probably the milk. I told you to stop eating things before going to sleep. It messes you up every time. Actually, I’m surprised you didn’t get the shits or something from that milk. Dairy, babe. Really?”

“Love me my calcium.”

Ellana hugs his arm tighter to her chest. He hears her nervous swallow in the dark.

“Okay. You can go back to sleep now. I’m good.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” Ellana nods. “I’ll go to sleep after you.”

“Maybe you should go to sleep first and I’ll watch you for a bit to make sure you’re okay.”

“That sounds creepy, babe.”

“Whatever I’ve got to do to make sure you’re alright, babe. Also? Your dream? Kind of freaked me out, too. Why do you always get these weird dreams?”

“I don’t know. I wish we could trade. You always get the nice dreams, the really vague ones that you can sum up in one sentence or less.”

“I’d rather we didn’t trade and we both just had vague dreams that aren’t terrifying mobs.”

“There must be thermodynamic balance, Bull. I have cold feet, you have warm everything. I wake up early and make you coffee and you make us eggs. I can make a really good seven layer dip but you can find the best chips to eat it with. I’m impossible to stop, you’re impossible to move. I’m good at word searches and you’re good at sudoku.”

“That’s cute. Go to sleep.”

“You think we could time it that we fall asleep at the same time?”

“I’m good. I’m not that good.”

[manesmademen]

bravery-sought

Life had thrown a CURVE-BALL ; destroying the expectations he had for the future. The statement of  ‘ loosing a limb complicates everything  ’ is a FUCKING understatement. Unfortunately  , there’s no handbook on how to navigate through the world   ,  specifically for a person of his mindset. There’s only so much that medications can help with. He and the rest of his family have never been close and it came to a shock to him that he made the choice to reside with one of his brothers for the time of his recovery. Then again  ,  where else would he go? He wasn’t going to put himself in Jesse’s care again. He didn’t have a place to call his own yet and Jim Valenti’s hunting cabin was out of the question for the moment. Being released from the hospital gave him somefreedom  ,  but it didn’t restore his self-confidence that seemed to fluctuatedepending on the day  (  he figured it was the depression  , among other things ).  

He had failed and possibly even given his father more of a reason to view him as the family DISAPPOINTMENT. He’ll deal with the repercussions later.

The landscape that rolls past him as the vehicle travels on the road is less than interesting  , but it certainly BEATS any hospital view. Music plays from his earbuds  ,  DROWNING out the surrounding noises of the tires on the pavement. Perhaps  ,  Gregory is the only brother that he’s consistently interacted with ( compared to Flint  ,  who he just kept tabs on every now and then ).  He’s awareof the children that Gregory has helped breatheLIFE into and Alex isn’t quite sure what to make of the idea. He ,  himself ,  can never imagine raising kids. There were aspects of himself and his family that he was afraid of spreading like a possible DISEASE. The world carried too much stigma about people who weren’t straight and his internalized homophobia posed more than a ROADBLOCK  (   why is he suddenly thinking about this now? ).

Upon arriving at the residence ,  Alex promptly denies assistance from the driver. The door slides open with a simple push of a button and the airman steps out with his left leg first before his right follows. His crutch acts as a THIRD LIMBto assist in steadying his balance. Despite having attended numerous physical therapy sessions  , his stump still aches ,  nestled within the support of his prosthetic. Slinging his backpack over one shoulder  ,  he stows his music player and earbuds before taking in his surroundings with an observant gaze.

His trip to the door is easy enough and thanks to the driver  , his bags are delivered to the doorstep. The vehicle drives off without another word. After knocking , he shoves his hand into the front pocket of his grey Air Force-branded sweatpants. Alex finds his eyes drawn to the top of his shoes and his camo-printed duffle bags. As the door opens , Alex shifts his gaze to the individual before him.  “ Hi ,   Gregory.  ”  He forces a tired smile ,  before truthfully adding ,  “  It’s good to see you.  ”

The relief that Alex had chosen to come, hadn’t changed his mind at the last second was an odd rush of relief, the ability to let go of a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Gregory swept his eyes over the younger Manes, taking in the crutch and the air of sheer exhaustion, and god, Gregory hated all of it, but he was there, alive and as whole as Gregory could hope for even if it felt like one more thing that Gregory had failed to spare him from, failed to save him from.  There was no atonement to be had, not for him, and maybe there never would be even if he spent every day of his life trying, but at least he still had time, had been granted some reprieve where his brother hadn’t been so entirely lost to him that any last desperate plea for forgiveness, any last admission of failure, would have been uttered at his grave. He had sucked in a breath to say something, anything, but he just managed a sort of lopsided smile instead and reached out to squeeze his brother’s shoulder for a beat.

Harley had always been a bubbly bean sprout of a child who loved deeply and without reservation and had no reason to be cautious of anyone, especially not family, those concerns, after all, were best left to the adults. She wriggled her way through the doorway before Gregory could say anything, having to shove past nearly one hundred pounds of panting golden retriever who’s whole body was wiggling with the force of his wagging tail. “Hi Uncle Alex! I missed you!” enthused the youngest, though the sentiment was a bit off considering they had never met, and she promptly lunged in for a hug before Greg could stop her, entirely forgetting any warning that she was meant to be careful, and in some ways it was a small blessing because it was the very thing that Gregory wanted to do as well but couldn’t allow himself.

 Tripp wasn’t usually a shy boy, quite the contrary, he never had been and couldn’t afford to be with how often he had changed schools, but he was old enough to realize what his sister hadn’t and to be wary of it.

It  was strange that they had never met Alexander A. Manes even if Tripp did recognize him from pictures. They’d met everyone else, Tripp was pretty sure of it, even some obscure people that Tripp was never quite sure how they were related, but Alex had remained mostly as a name passed around in adult discussions that he was never a part of.