#honestly between Alice hunting for meat

[victorluvsalice]

-->Victor was also feeling peckish as Alice headed out, but he had a secret weapon up his sleeve to deal with that empty stomach feeling -- the Delicioso spell! So once he wrapped up his current flower arrangement, I had him summon up a hot dog to snack on. He and Smiler ended up kind of having a “lunch break” together, doing a little light flirting by the shelves while Victor finished off his hot dog and Smiler had a plasma pack. XD Alice came back from her hunt at the tail end of it with a fresh steak to gnaw on -- unfortunately, I managed to lose the spare meat she brought back with her (the meat display is right up against the bathrooms, and I think I may have accidentally put the plate into the sink behind the wall), so I promptly had to send her back out for more. *blush* Sorry about that, Alice!

-->Anyway, after that, it was back to work, with Victor and Smiler switching jobs -- Smiler working on flower arrangements, and Victor making jars of chocolate syrup (via the bulk processor) and a few extra cans of apple jam (the old-fashioned way on the stove). Alice came back with more meat, which I successfully put into the display this time, and I allowed her a quick break to “mark her territory” and do a little scavenging (she found a pre-historic hoofprint fossil! Nice) before turning back into human form to resume making pies and cakes for the bakery.

-->And, well, things just kept going from there! Victor made some cupcakes with the cupcake machine, and some more processed food with the canning factory, while Alice whipped up a zombie cake and Smiler kept arranging flowers. The fun never stops when you’re new small business owners! XD

[kumeko]

A/N: For the Pandora Hearts Reverse Big Bang! My partner Hadrian drew an adorable piece of the three of them sleeping together and I wanted to write a fluffy AU for that (look, I really need a world where Lacie and Oswald live).

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At twenty, Gilbert Nightray was used to plans going awry. It was par the course when it came to the mischievous Oz Vessalius. Despite being childhood friends for over 15 years, the only thing Gil could predict about Oz was that his suggestions never went as expected. Toss in the ever-hungry Alice, and well, there really was no point in planning, just preparing. Luckily, that was something Gil was good at. Every time they went off on an adventure, he packed a bag full of first aid kits, healing potions, and enough supplies to last a week.

 However, even he couldn’t have predicted the situation they were in. As they raced through the forest, Gil glanced over his shoulder to confirm that yes, a giant elephant-sized boar was chasing them. He pressed a hand against his hat to keep it from flying off.

 “Why are we running?” Oz asked breathlessly, just barely managing to keep apace. His physical strength wasn’t great on his best days, and after he’d been cursed…well, what little muscle he’d gained in the past ten years was gone.

 “Why do you think?” Gil snapped, his trench coat flapping behind him as he leapt over an overgrown root. Behind him the boar angrily snapped his head at an offending tree, skewering it with his horns. Wood splintered from the onslaught and Gil paled—that could have easily been them. That could still be them.

“We could just fight it!” Oz argued, his green eyes glowing slightly as he started to summon his magic.

 “Your magic isn’t what it used to be,” Gil argued, resisting the urge to tuck him under his arm like a ball and just sprint out. He probably could. Oz was ten now, not twenty, and as tiny as he was, he’d be easy to carry.

 “I want to eat him,” Alice announced, her eyes taking on a more rabbit-like appearance.  

 “Aren’t rabbits supposed to be herbivores?” Gil immediately whacked the back of her head. Maybe he should just tuck both of them under his arm—two ten-year-olds couldn’t be that heavy, right? “We’re only barely ahead of that thing because the forest’s slowing it down.”

 “But he could be tasty,” Alice protested, glancing over her shoulder. She licked her lips in anticipation.

 “Why is it always food for you?” Gil grumbled. Honestly, Alice’s first approach to everything was bite first, ask questions later.

 “Because meat is king,” she declared triumphantly. Why was that her answer to everything? Her physical strength was far greater than Oz’s, no matter what age. Gil wished it wasn’t; he’d rather hear her wheeze and pant than be forced to listen to whatever stupid inane thought crossed her mind.

 “And you’re too weak too fight,” Gil pointed out, feeling a headache forming. He had medicine for that. “You guys are younger, you can’t act like you normally do! You,” he turned to Oz, “Don’t have the magical reserves. And you,” he directed his glare at Alice, “Can’t fight like you used to.”

 Alice’s cheeks puffed, the sign of an impending sulk and Gil’s headache worsened. Oz frowned. “We could still fight it.”

 “Didn’t you promise Oscar you’d stay out of trouble?” Gil pleaded, ducking an overly tall branch. While the boar was slower, he hadn’t stopped. Every step caused a tremor and it was a miracle none of them had fallen over yet.

 “But—” Oz whined.

 “And Lacie—” Gil cut himself off immediately; it was always a mistake to bring up Alice’s mother. She was even wilder than her daughter. A better tack was her overprotective uncle. “Oswald? Did you agree to be careful for him?”

 “Booo,” Alice pouted as she hopped over a stone. “I can fight.”

 The earth shook behind them. Gil barked, “Not against that!”

 And then, before they could protest, he grabbed their hands. If he had to drag them to safety, he would.

 -x-

 “I think we’re getting close,” Alice muttered, sniffing the air as she lifted a branch with a hand. While she hadn’t fully transformed into her rabbit form, her red eyes and long, claw-like fingers gave her an inhuman look.

 Gil could never get used to her partial transformations. Full transformations were fine, he could handle giant, bow-tied rabbits and short, ill-tempered women. Actually, considering how much Alice ate, it was amazing that she’d never grown taller, that even at twenty she couldn’t reach higher than his chest. Pulling his gun out of its holster, he asked, “Are you sure?”

 “What do you mean, am I sure?” Irate, she glared at him. It was more annoying than intimidating. “My nose is better than yours.”

 “Only if you’re actually using it properly and not smelling meat like last time,” he whispered back, trying to keep his voice down. “You’re a rabbit, how does that work?”

 Alice snorted. “Meat is king.”

 Gil stared at her. She’d said that with utter confidence, as though those three words explained everything. In fact, she’d been so matter-of-factly about it that for a minute, he’d doubted himself. That maybe he was the one ignorant to the ways of the world.

 On his right, Oz snickered as he drew his sword. The metal looked dull in the dim light. “She got you there.”

 That was enough to snap him out of it. “That doesn’t explain anything!”

 “It explains everything,” she retorted, hands on her hips, her quarry all but forgotten. “What more do you need?”

 Gil knew he ought to be the bigger person. They had a guild mission, after all, and that came before any petty differences between them. If Alice wanted to act like a child, like she often did, he shouldn’t stoop to her level. No, he should finish securing the pixie they’d been hunting for days, saving a village from its mischief, ensuring that his standing in the ranks didn’t—

 “If your head wasn’t made of seaweed, you’d understand,” she added with a presumptuous sniff.

 Gil forced his lips into a tight smile, resisting the urge to react. There’s no point in arguing with her, he reminded himself. Be the adult.

 “Where is the pixie?” he asked through gritted teeth. The sooner they finished with this, the sooner they’d go back.

 “Over there,” Oz replied, whistling softly as he peeked through the brush. “I think he’s asleep.”

 “That’s good.” Gil brightened at this one speck of good news. “Is there anyone—”

 Before he looked, before he even finished his sentence, Oz pointed at the pixie. “Alice, go!”

 Without hesitation, Alice ran forward, transforming into a giant rabbit as she did. There was a large scythe in her hands now, pulled out from whatever pocket dimension she’d left it in. “Just stay there and watch,” she ordered before disappearing into the foliage.

 Gil’s jaw dropped. “Oz!”

 “Come on, Gil!” Oz grabbed his hand, smiling innocently. Almost all of their misadventures had started with that smile.  “We can’t let her have all the fun!”

 “Why do you always do this?” Gil hissed, not sure how he’d force them to understand this one, common sense idea. “We should have to plan first!”

 He followed anyways—he’d never been able to say no to Oz, and he doubted he’d ever will. They were almost the same height, with Oz slightly shorter despite all of the milk he drank. There was something comforting about the back of his head, of that golden hair, and maybe it was that for all of the trouble they’d gotten into over the years, they’d always ended up fine at the end of it. Oz was strangely reliable.

 “It’s just a pixie,” Oz scoffed, trotting quickly after Alice. “She’s going to catch it before we get there.”

 In hindsight, those were famous last words. As soon as they made it past a particularly thick tree, pushing through the branches to reach a small clearing, they found Alice in the center. She slammed down her scythe at a pixie that was almost half her size. The creature had iridescent wings that fluttered quickly as he dodged her attack.

 “That’s a big pixie,” Oz muttered. He held his sword loosely. “I don’t think the cage we got is big enough for him.”

 “Me neither…” Gil frowned, pulling out his gun and several enchanted bullets. “Maybe we can knock him out.”

 Alice struck again, her scythe almost cleaving the creature in two. Which would have solved the transportation issue but luckily the pixie parried her attack. It almost knocked her off balance and she flipped backwards to stabilize herself. Legs tense, she prepared to strike again when the pixie shot her with a green bolt of magic.

 Smoke filled the air and Gil’s eyes widened as she disappeared. “Alice!”

 “Alice!” Oz yelled as he charged through the smoke to get to her.

 “I’m fine.” Alice coughed, still hidden by the smoke.

 The pixie cackled and Gil cocked his gun, looking for their enemy. It was time they took this battle seriously. Trees lined their small clearing, leaving many places to hide if the pixie headed for the shadows. Craning his head left and right, he couldn’t find their target.

 The smoke drifted past him slowly, dissipating as the gentle wind blew, and Gil glanced at where he’d last seen Alice. As the air cleared, he couldn’t find a big, stocky humanoid rabbit.

 Instead, he saw a small, child-sized rabbit. While it was dressed in Alice’s clothes, they were far too big for the rabbit, and they hung off it loosely.

 Oz stood in front of the rabbit, his lips parted in surprise. “Alice?”

 The rabbit’s ears twitched, and she looked up at him. “Why are you so big?”

 “Did he shrink you?” Gil asked, wishing he had his brother’s skills in magic identification.

 “Shrink?” Alice stood stock still, looking from Oz to Gil to the trees. If she didn’t have black fur, he was certain she’d be pale as a ghost. She tried to pick up her now too-heavy scythe, the handle oversized in her hands, before dropping it in horror. “WHAT HAPPENED?”

 “Oh wow!” Oz crouched in front of her, recovering from his shock entirely. Reaching forward, he rubbed her ears. “You’re so cute now!”

 “I’m not cute, I’m terrifying,” Alice retorted, growling slightly. She didn’t pull away from his touch though and Gil stored that info away to taunt her with later.

 “Of course you are,” Oz cooed.

 From the corner of his eyes, Gil saw something move. He spun on his heel, gun raised, finger on the trigger. There was the pixie, hovering in the air, another green bolt in his fingers.

 “Watch out!” Gil shouted, already squeezing the trigger.

 BANG! A bullet pierced through the air. As it reached the pixie, it transformed into a net, entangling the prankster.

 Jerking back in surprise, the pixie released its bolt. The green energy arced through the air before hitting Oz square in the back. Another burst of smoke filled the area.

 “Oz!” Gil shouted, racing forward to knock out the pixie before he could do anymore damage.

 “Wow, that tickled,” Oz replied, coughing slightly. After a moment, he swore. “Shit.”

 Oz rarely swore openly, and Gil swallowed as he turned to where his best friend stood. The air had cleared now, leaving behind a blonde child. His cloak hung loosely on his frame, almost slipping off his shoulders. His sword, now too heavy for him, fell out of his hands with a clatter.

 “You’re a kid,” Gil stated, realization dawning.

 Alice transformed back into her human form, confirming his fears: she looked like a kid too. With a smug smirk, she wrapped an arm around Oz, ignoring how her clothes almost fell off her. “Ha, who’s the cute one now?”

 -x-

 Gil groaned as he leaned against the hard wall of the crevice they were hiding in. No matter how many times he thought about how they ended up in this situation, it felt ridiculous.

 “I think we’re safe now,” Oz whispered, poking his head out of their hole. Gil almost jerked him in reflexively. In the bright afternoon light, Oz was hard to miss.

 “I can’t smell him anymore,” Alice muttered, sulking as she crouched in the back of the small cave. With a stick, she drew pictures of pork chops and ham on the dirt ground.

 “Good.” Gil sighed, relaxing against the wall. He wanted nothing more than a hot bath but settled for sitting on the ground. These days, he felt more babysitter than adventurer. His nerves couldn’t take much more of this. “Next time I say run, run.”

 Oz pouted. “I still think we could have taken it,” he muttered.

 Gil gave him a tired look. “Oz.”

 “But that’s not why we’re here,” Oz admitted, which was as close to an apology as he’d get. Crouching in front of Gil, he reached up to ruffle his hair. “Good job!”

 “I’m not the stupid rabbit,” Gil muttered, looking away. Yet he didn’t pull away and maybe that was something he and Alice had in common.

 Unfortunately.

 Oz chuckled, letting go and stepping back. “Alright, let’s finish our mission! I want to be tall again! I want to bully Gil properly again!”

 “Don’t bully me,” Gil grumbled half-heartedly, trying not to smile.

 “I want meat!” Alice chimed in. Gil wasn’t sure if she hadn’t followed the conversation or if she just didn’t care about it.

 Oz looked at him expectedly and Gil sighed. Standing up now, he shoved his hands in his pockets. “I want to stop worrying about you two.”

 “Oh, Gil.” Oz chuckled, though he looked touched. Standing up, he beamed at him, no malice in his voice. “You’ll always worry about us.”

 The truth in his words cut deep and Gil flushed. Coughing into his hand, he looked away. “I want to worry about you less.”

 Oz bumped into him lightly and nodded. “Alright, then we just have to find those berries, right?”

 “Yeah, Break said you just had to eat them and you should turn back to normal…” Gil trailed off. As reliable as his mentor was, he was also the kind of liar who’d take advantage of the situation to play a prank or run an experiment. There was a reason he and Oz got along; they were far too alike and Gil wished he could have stopped them from meeting. “It’ll work, right?”

 Alice growled at Break’s name and looked around quickly. Suspiciously, she lifted a rock, squinting at the dirt beneath it. “He’s not here?”

 “Of course not, or we’d have just fought that boar,” Gil scoffed, rolling his eyes. This whole mission would have gone better if they’d just brought one other person. How he ever let Oz talk him into coming here without backup, Gil couldn’t explain.

 “Nothing to it then.” Oz stretched his arms above his head, looking oddly refreshed. “We’ll just have to get those berries. They’re at the top of the mountain, right?”

 As usual, Alice thought with her stomach. “I hope they’re yummy.”

 “Maybe we should take a couple extra with us,” Oz suggested, rubbing his chin. He scowled. “I can’t believe the pixie couldn’t just turn us back.”

 Gil slouched over slightly. “I should have caught him sooner.”

 “And I probably should have listened to you earlier.” Oz reached up to pat him on the back. “Still, it’s kinda fun pretending to be my own love-child.”

 That was the first Gil heard about it. Aghast, he stared down at his friend. “Your what?”

 “Sec-ret love child,” Oz repeated slowly. Chuckling, he walked over to Alice and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “By the way, I told all the maids that she’s yours.”

 “Mine?” Gil screeched, forgetting all about the boar, the berries, or even the need to hide. He almost fell backwards and leaned against the wall for support.

 Alice grabbed Oz’s collar. “I’m what?”

 “The maids think it’s cute?” Oz weakly warbled, realizing a little too late that maybe he shouldn’t have admitted this in a cave in the middle of nowhere.

 They should start making their way up the mountain. They should be quiet. They should conserve their strength.

 Gil stepped out of the cave for a breath of fresh air, ignoring the ruckus behind him. Oz could wait a few minutes before getting saved.

 -x-

 Hilariously, by the time they reached top of the mountain, Oz’s worst injuries were still from the cave. The rest of the trip had been as eventful as their first few minutes in the forest—as weak as Oz and Alice were now, their only options were to run and hide from monsters.

 Unfortunately, on this mountain this meant a lot of running and hiding. Gil’s arms were sore from dragging Alice away; she honestly thought she could take on every beast they met and Gil didn’t have nearly enough healing magic to prove her wrong.

 As they reached a plateau on the top, a large field filled with wildflowers, Gil was too exhausted to do anything more than just collapse. He stared up at the night sky, surprised. The afternoon felt like it had only been minutes ago, and yet there the stars were, twinkling above. “Is this it?”

 “I hope so.” A worn Oz lay down on the long grasses next to him, sounding as ragged as Gil felt. For all of his adventuring, his stamina had always been terrible. “We just need to find the berries now, right?”

 “And then make it back down.” Gil covered his eyes with the back of his hand and took a deep breath. A sickly-sweet scent filled his lungs and he coughed. “That’s strong.”

 “It’s disgusting.” Next to him, Oz wrinkled his nose. Despite his affection for sweets, he didn’t like the cloying scent either. “What are these flowers?”

 “Not sure.” Gil looked to his right, at the flower brushing his cheek. It had a dark lilac colour, barely visible in the moonlight. Neon blue spots dotted the petals, giving the plant an eerie look. Something about it tickled his memory as he slowly sat up. “Where have I seen that before?”

 “A book?” Oz guessed flippantly. Lifting his head, he scanned their surroundings. “Where’s Alice?”

 “Hmm?” Still focused on the flower, he glanced around haphazardly. The field was penned with trees, though they were so far out he couldn’t make out their individual shapes. “Maybe in the forest? Or by the bushes?”

 “Alice?” Oz called out, scrambling to his feet despite his aching limbs. There wasn’t a response, just the wind through the trees, and he yelled again, “ALICE!”

 This time, a small voice called out. Gil couldn’t make out the words. To their left, a small figure dashed toward them, growing bigger until he could make out Alice’s bright grin. “Oz!”

 “There you are!” Oz relaxed. Clasping his hands behind him, he acted as though he hadn’t been worried seconds ago. “Where’d you go?”

 “To the berries of course.” Alice snorted, holding out her right hand to reveal a small pile of the very berries they were looking for. “Unlike you lazy bones, I can get the job done.”

 For once, Gil was too tired to argue. He merely plucked on, inspecting it. It was a bright yellow, like the sun, and the leaves had an oval-like shape outlined with prickly points. All in all, it looked just like the ones Break had shown him before. Begrudgingly, he praised her. “Good job.”

 Alice lit up. “It was a good job, right?”

 She beamed happily at him before leaning forward expectantly. Gil sighed and reached out, patting her head. “That’s what I said.”

 She bounced on her feet before she stood up straight once more. “Now we can get big again!”

 Oz gingerly took one berry from her hand, eyeing it thoughtfully. “These are the right ones, right?”

 “Gil just said they were,” Alice pouted, her cheeks puffing up like a chipmunk.

 “If I die, I’m haunting you,” Oz muttered before swallowing the berry. He scowled. “That’s even sweeter.”

 “It’s like honey,” Alice added, utterly enamoured. She ate another one before Gil could stop her.

 “Hey, wait!” Gil snatched the rest of the berries out of her hand. A few were crushed between his fingers, their delicious juices dripping down his fingers. His raised his hand out of her reach. “You don’t know what eating more could do to you.”

 “But it tastes so good,” Alice grumbled, jumping up to grab the sweet treat. When it was obvious that she couldn’t reach, she stomped on his foot.

 “Ouch!” Gil glared at her, stepping back. “You stupid rabbit—”

 “Seaweed head—” Alice growled back.

 “Nothing’s happening,” Oz interrupted smoothly, frowning. He looked at his hands. “I’m not getting taller.” He paused. “Or older.”

 “Why in that order—” Gil shook his head, focusing on the actual issue. He glanced at Alice, who still couldn’t reach his chest, let alone his shoulders. “Alice isn’t either.”

 “That’s strange…” Oz sat down once more, plucking a flower and twirling it between his fingers. “Maybe it takes time?”

 “Or maybe you have to sleep…” Gil trailed off, realization dawning. Crouching, he inspected the flowers once more before covering his mouth. “Cover your mouths!”

 It was too late. He heard a soft thud, followed by another, and he found both Alice and Oz passed out. His own vision was going dark and he silently swore before collapsing as well.

 -x-

 “They’re so cute,” Lacie cooed, tucking a lock behind her ear as she stared down at her daughter and her friends. The trio were curled up together, instinctively seeking each other even when unconscious. “I need a picture.”

 “Lacie,” Oswald murmured, giving her a baleful look as he crouched next to Alice. They were breathing at least. “We need to take them back.”

 “Do we?” Lacie sighed, pouting slightly as she knelt next to Oz. Her puffy dress spread around her like a mushroom. She gently pushed his hair out of his face. “They look so peaceful.”

 Break poked Gil’s cheeks, chuckling. It was obvious they were master and apprentice; their uniforms were far too similar to claim otherwise. “They do. We should draw on their faces.”

 That stopped Oswald and he looked at Break, his expression blank. “What?”

 “It’ll be fun!” Break chuckled, glancing at the field around them. In the day, the flowers were closed, the air crisp and clean. “It’ll be a punishment for not bringing us with them. And for entering this field at night. They should have known better.”

 “Yep.” Lacie nodded sagely, already pulling out a marker from her purse. “These flowers’ scents are like a sleeping spell. They should have remembered.”

 “None of them paid attention to my lessons.” Break raised a sleeve and wiped an imaginary tear.

 “Or my training.” Lacie hunched forward, sighing sadly.

 Already hoisting Alice in his arms, Oswald looked back and forth between the pair. They both looked at him with watery eyes and he flinched.  “I guess…”

 And just like that, they both grinned, pulling out markers from who-knows-where. “Great!” Lacie chirped, drawing a spiral on Oz’s cheek.

 “He’ll never forget,” Break chimed in, giving Gilbert glasses and a mustache.

 Oswald held Alice tighter. Maybe he should just save her and run.

[siribear]

they agree to leave early the next morning. alice manages a few hours of sleep before waking from another nightmare - another memory. she’s weighing a short hunting rifle in her hands when preston retrieves her from her home. surprisingly, the rest of the survivors are awake, except mama murphy.

alice eats from a box of stale sugar bombs instead of marcy’s mystery meat for breakfast. by the time she and preston set out, the sun is barely rising over the neighborhood. sturges gives her an encouraging thumbs up when they leave.

they take a familiar left turn at the red rocket. preston is quiet as he leads, carrying his musket in his hands. alice’s pistol still hangs from her hip while her new rifle rests strapped to her back. she turns on the radio to fill the silence, lowering the volume when preston looks back at her over her shoulder.

it feels... different, traveling with someone familiar with the new commonwealth. codsworth knew - knows - her. knows that she came from a time when the only danger on the road was an incoming car. preston carries himself like he’s ready for raiders to pop out of the ground to ambush them. he reminds her of nate when he came back from leave for that last time. jumping at shadows.

alice slips her pistol from its holster to carry it in one hand.

they pass by the quarry, and this time she sees a lone person moving in the distance. she steps off the road to get a better look, but preston stops her. ‘that place has been flooded forever. i’d like to help, but i don’t exactly have any radaways with me. you?’

considering she doesn’t even know what radaway is, she shakes her head.

turns out, the settlement is close to the satellite station. a giant dish looms over the hill as preston leads her to what he describes as tenpines bluff. the bluff consists of a shack near the edge of the cliff, barely bigger than the outhouse on the other side of a small pond. just outside the shack are three rows of vegetables she recognizes from abernathy farm. behind that, the ruins of a wooden house with the roof blown clean off.

for the second time, she’s greeted with the barrel of a gun. the man behind it is thin, his ragged clothes hanging off his frame. alice notices he circles her and preston, putting himself between them and a woman working the land.

‘that’s close enough. you’ve taken enough from us. we don’t have anything left to give.’

they put away their weapons, hands held aloft. preston looks to her. ‘we’re with the minutemen. we heard you needed some help?’

the man blinks once, then lowers his own pistol. ‘the minutemen? we sent word with a caravan weeks ago.’ he gestures to the woman in the field. ‘we didn’t think anyone was coming.’

alice shrugs and continues before preston can let it get to him. ‘sorry about the delay. what can we do to help?’

‘well, a group of raiders has been after us for weeks now. taking food, water, anything they can get. we know they’re holed up in that old satellite station, but there’s no way we can take them out ourselves.’

she grins. ‘you’re in luck. i just cleared that place out the other day for the abernathys.’

his jaw drops, and preston looks at her, equally surprised. ‘really? one of them had a minigun and you just - ?’ he takes a deep breath. ‘well, all right then. say, how is old blake abernathy?’

alice hooks her thumbs in her pockets. ‘he’s okay. they’re starting to grow melons this season.’ she tilts her head in preston’s direction. ‘and they’re now under protection of the minutemen.’

he whistles. ‘you weren’t kidding then. the minutemen are back?’ he looks preston over, from his hat to his musket. ‘if the abernathys have joined the minutemen, then count us in also. it’s about time someone started clearing out the commonwealth.’ he upends a pouch of bottle caps into alice’s hands. ‘and you tell blake joseph tenpine said hello.’

alice pockets the caps and clears her throat. ‘no problem. anything else we can help with, since we’re in the area?’

the woman joins the rest of them, brushing dirt off her hands. ‘i saw a group of raiders head down to the border. couldn’t have been a day or two before you took down the others.’

‘a scouting party?’ preston asks.

joseph nods. ‘anne and i think they’re expanding their territory.’

‘probably using the supplies they got from the satellite station and what they took from you,’ alice figures.

‘which still leaves us in danger,’ continues the anne.

preston turns to alice. ‘there’s an outpost to the northeast. that’s likely where they went.’

‘all right. looks like that’s where we’re headed next.’

‘be careful,’ anne warns them before they leave. ‘one of them was wearing a suit of power armor.’

-

preston helps her down the cliff to the train tracks below. box cars litter the tracks and the area around them, cargo long since picked clean.

‘i’ve been thinking about that power armor,’ alice begins. she remembers the beating hers took from the deathclaw in concord. but she also remembers the stories nate used to tell from the war. ‘i think that fusion core is the key. it’s a clear shot from the back.’

‘like how the brotherhood of steel burns out their armor. that could work.’

she doesn’t know who the brotherhood of steel is, but she nods. ‘it’s our best bet. unless you’ve got a missile launcher hidden under that coat of yours.’

he chuckles. ‘afraid not. think you can make the shot with that?’ he nods to her rifle on her back.

she unslings it. ‘not sure, honestly. i’m more familiar with pistols.’

preston looks toward the sky, to the sun reaching just past noon. ‘we’re probably better off attacking closer to night. harder for them to see us coming, but you can still see that fusion core.’

‘couldn’t you take the shot?’

‘i - no. i’m not sure i could. i watched you take out those raiders in the museum; you’re a better shot than i am.’ he coughs awkwardly. alice narrows her eyes, but doesn’t press him. ‘do you have any cans in your pack?’

‘hm? no, i left them with sturges.’ for codsworth, she adds to herself.

he begins gathering rocks and bricks, lining them up on the edge of a box car. together, they put some distance between them and the makeshift targets until she can barely see their blurry silhouettes. ‘well, the fusion core would be a small target anyway,’ she reasons. her first shot misses, passing through two bricks and sending sparks off the floor of the box car at the impact.

‘close. and you don’t even have a scope on that, either.’ preston corrects her stance and her shoulder placement, teaches her to hold her breath and exhale with the shot. it takes some time before she actually hits her mark, but even then it’s just grazing the edges. the first time she sends a rock flying, she lets out a loud yes! that has preston laughing.

her excitement is cut short when a figure slowly makes its way around one of the cars. its body is green and bloated, littered with open sores long since infected and begun to rot. it lifts its bald head to reveal small, yellow eyes. when it opens its mouth to rotten teeth, its scream is inhuman.

preston swears, lifting his musket. alice fumbles to reload, firing the second she can. she severs its leg with one shot and a spray of red. it collapses on one side, but the thing keeps coming. it drags itself forward, clawing the ground as it advances toward them. preston finishes it off with a shot to the neck, the laser cauterizing the wound as its head rolls to the side.

‘what,’ alice says, gasping, ‘the hell was that?’

‘you really aren’t from around here, huh? that was a ghoul. we should... keep moving. they normally travel in packs.’

alice nods, and preston leads them toward the outpost, steering them clear of the pack of ghouls congregated further down the tracks.

‘ghouls are... irradiated people,’ preston explains when they’re far enough away. ‘they’re just like you and me, but they look... different. and they live a long time. but sometimes the radiation rots their brains and they go feral.’

‘and then they turn into zombies. great.’

-

they reach the outpost just as the sun begins to dip below the horizon. a towering pre-war relay sits atop a concrete base, surrounded by wooden and metal shacks and guard posts shoddily put together post-war. the outpost itself lies in a small bowl bracketed by two cliffs. alice spots two raiders huddled together underneath a cloth canopy. preston gestures to a turret at the edge of the camp.

anne had been telling the truth - a raider in a suit of power armor walks toward the others from behind the relay. at their angle, she can’t see the fusion core.

alice slowly moves down the back side of the cliff, away from the camp. in the faint light of her pip-boy, she gestures to preston. other side. keep an eye out. he turns away with a slight nod.

she takes the long way around, giving the camp a wide berth. the bare, fall trees near the camp give her little cover, and the piles of leaves would give her away. on elbows and knees, she crawls to the edge of the opposite cliff. the raiders are still there, though one breaks off toward one of the guard posts. still. two in one, she can do this. alice rises to one knee, braces the stock against her shoulder like preston showed her, aims for the middle of the frame where the fusion core sits, and fires.

she misses. hears the ping of her bullet ricochet off the frame and the swears of the raiders as they try to find her. in the darkness, she can see the silhouette of a weapon that makes her blood run cold.

a goddamn fat man.

flashes of red laser fire turn their attention toward preston’s side, and alice watches as the raider loads a mininuke into the launcher. alice holds her breath and fires.

something knocks her to the ground, hard. at first she thinks its the shock wave as a small mushroom cloud erupts over the edge of the cliff, but then she’s stricken in the face. and then again, and again. rifle fallen just out of her reach, alice lifts her arms and braces herself against the blows. 

‘you shouldn’t,’ one punch hits her in the side, ‘have done,’ another against her bicep, ‘that,’ the last is a cut clear across her forearm, the raider’s knife glowing orange as it reflects the cloud. a bright red light knocks the weight off her chest, and she sits up to see preston running toward her.

‘i didn’t see the third one in the explosion,’ he says, carefully lifting her. she cradles her arm against her chest. ‘you okay?’

‘just got the wind knocked out of me. you?’

‘think the edge of my hat got singed, but i’m - ’

a gunshot cuts him off, and it’s too familiar. the dread, the pain. alice turns to her left, to the raider clutching her side and the rags of her armor seared against her skin, and shoots her in the head with her pistol. she turns to preston, still standing there, no bullet in his chest.

she falls to her knees, nearly dragging preston down with her as he holds onto her arm.

‘hey, hey. hold on.’

her vision sways as she watches him fiddle with the pipboy on her wrist. her vitals display on the first screen. losing blood, but not bleeding out. bullet wound - bullet wound? - in left shoulder. she’s blinded momentarily when he finally finds the flashlight. ‘when did i get shot? that wasn’t supposed to happen,’ she mutters. it’s a wonderful time to remember she’s got a low pain tolerance.

‘it’s not - ’ he tries to hide his grimace, but fails in the bright light, ‘it’s not bad. i’ve got a few stimpaks. just try not to move too much.’

she doesn’t have time to wonder before she feels the needle slide into her skin near the gash on her arm. the tightness in her chest eases, just a little. already she can feel her skin begin to heal. maybe it’ll leave a scar.

‘now for the bad one,’ he says, prodding her shoulder.

‘talk me through it,’ she says. ‘field medicine. i’ve-i’ve never had to.’ never had a reason to, not between her suburban life and autodocs in the city for the worst of it. ‘always traveled alone. never anything worse than a bandage.’

he does, every detail. from the alcohol he fishes out of her pack to the bullet extraction. she pays attention to most of it, drowning out the instinctual urge to shove him away every time her wound stings. she feels another stimpak enter her shoulder, then the paid recedes to a dull ache.

by the time he’s finished, the sun has completely set. he gives her another moment to recover before they head down to the scorched camp. the geiger counter on her pipboy ticks once, then goes silent. surprisingly most of the camp is still intact, aside from the small crater near the cliff and warped power armor frame left from the aftermath.

‘i have a theory,’ she starts, but giving preston no time to reply as she heads up a small staircase up to the relay. at the base of one of the legs, a ham radio just barely warped from the heat. she fiddles with the dials and finds a channel of static and dead air.

‘your theory?’ preston asks from below.

‘five people does not a sanctuary make,’ she says. ‘we take a station and broadcast a message encouraging people to come to sanctuary.’ she looks around at the shacks, the guard posts. ‘or wherever we can defend and call a settlement. even here, right at the border.’

he makes a thoughtful noise that carries. ‘a waystation for caravans to and from the commonwealth.’

‘exactly. there’s not much north of here, but the more areas we own and the less areas raiders own, the better, right?’

‘of course, general.’

she barely hears him as she begins recording the transmission.

[roses-amet]

Questions

Xio assured both Alice and Cassius that Max will be all right in their home, despite his condition. Smiley on the other hand seemed okay with him around. It didn't seem all that bad to have someone that isn't related to the Bones family living with them. Sort of like an estranged family member from Xio's life.

While in the middle of making a sandwich, Smiley greeted Max with a weary smile. "Good morning," he greeted. "I'm Smiley Bones... Are you sure you're okay with the shed as your room?"

For a brief moment, Smiley saw Max's good eye from under his hood, before he turned away with a crooked grin. "Yes, indeed!" he replied, then munched on the sandwich in a few bites. He swallowed some water to let it go down smoothly. "I don't know if I will be staying here permanently, but I don't mind it." With his crooked grin, he turned his head to Smiley. "Aside from that, how have you been coping since Xio's husband's death?"

Smiley was taken a back, until he took a seat beside him with a frown. "You're aware of our history, aren't you?"

Max nodded his head. "Rick and Xio are very much like father and daughter, so any news that had happened to her, will go straight to him by ear, or otherwise. After all, we all had worked for Haven, and you know they have eyes and ears everywhere... except when it comes to people like Xio. Rick ordered her to retire from Haven, to spend time with you, and the rest of the family, which is quite... something, let me tell you that."

Smiley tilted his head as he barely understood what he had meant. He is not very familiar with how Haven worked, aside from bits and pieces of information that Xio told him of her experience. They are just a secret organization, working on exterminating these beings called Abominations.

Something else that Smiley doesn't exactly have an understanding of either.

"You're confused," Max pointed out. "Did Xio ever tell you?"

Smiley shook his head with pursed lips. "Not to me... only to Renny."

"Ah, so she told her husband... well, anyway, that doesn't matter. Haven is behind us, along with the death of Renny Bones... so, let's move on from this topic then." Max clicked his long black fingers on the counter. "You aren't married to Xio, right?"

Smiley blinked before he immediately shook his head. "No! That would be... wrong..."

"Right, but, you both are foster parents to the red dragon like... child..." Max paused as he tried to remember her name. "The bitey one... what was her name again?"

"Nersillia?"

Max snapped his fingers. "Yes, Nersillia! So, you're both her foster parents, right? No problems there? Are you sure you don't hold any romantic feelings for Xio?"

Smiley took in a deep breath as Max seemed to be getting a bit too forward with his questions. "Listen, Max, I don't know why you want to know, but let me say this - Xio and I are just friends. After what happened with Renny, I can't forgive myself, and Xio might still be holding a grudge against me, but it seems that things are amicable between us for the time being. I don't want this to mess up, for Nersillia's sake, as well as everyone involved. So, please, stop prodding your nose into our business."

Max grin grew wider, revealing his discolored sharp teeth. "Okay, okay, I get it, I won't ask anymore questions. I was just wondering, that is all. Honestly, there are so many questions I want to ask, and I am just... excited to know more about this life of Xio's... It's... peaceful, to say the least."

Smiley raised a brow as he noticed that Max seemed saddened by that fact. "Does it bother you?"

Max chuckled lowly. "I'm jealous, so yes, it does... but, I don't want it to eat me, you know? Up until now, I've only known how difficult life is, being something that is not a human, or an abomination. I'm just... abnormal. I am something that Haven doesn't know what they should do about. We're much more human than an abomination, but aren't human enough to be placed among society... so, we hide. Hide, hunt, and survive..."

Smiley blinked. "Hunt? What do you mean by hunt?"

Max picked at his clawed finger nails as he continued, "Abominations love the taste of human meat... and so do abnormals... but, some of us, like me, don't want to eat humans. Personally, I think I will lose any sense of humanity I have left if I do... even if cannibalism can be considered 'normal' in some parts of the world." He shrugged. "Anyway, I'd rather not deal with that, so I eat animals. If you see a missing poster of a pet, most likely, I have digested it."

Smiley shook his head in disbelief. "So you eat pets..."

"It's one way to live... not a great way, but good enough. But, boy, am I glad that Haven found me and let me lived with them. They made pretty good food, even though my taste had changed since I've become an abnormal." Max chuckled. "And now, look where I am now. Right in Xio's home, with her lovely family that wants my head on a platter..."

Smiley snorted. "Yeah, that's Cassius and Alice for you... but, they aren't bad, as long as they serve under both Xio and Scarlet's service."

"Scarlet?"

"Ah, you haven't met Scarlet? Well, she is now the master of the Bones family, since Renny's... death..." Smiley paused. "She takes care of special business that Xio can't, since Scarlet knows more about Renny's secrets, than Xio does..."

"Wait, Scarlet knows more about Renny than Xio does? Even though Xio and Renny were married?"

Smiley sighed as he rested his head against his hand. Memories of the past flashed through his mind. Vague, blurry images of years that he shared with Renny. "Scarlet was Renny's first wife..."

"Oh."

Smiley hummed thoughtfully. "Scarlet is... eccentric, but she knows how to do business. Xio on the other hand... well, she is just another person that Renny came across... It's... weird, thinking back on it..." He shut his eyes as the memories became clearer. He remembered Renny and Xio's wedding day, and the day when Smiley took in Nersillia. He was just a split personality of Renny's, but there had been plenty of friends that had stuck by Renny, until his death.

And then Xio, as distraught as she was about losing her husband, wanted to search for Smiley himself. Not to kill him, but to bring him back into her life, even though, he was the one who killed her husband.

At least he believed he killed him. He wasn't sure anymore since the incident.

But, Xio fought hard to find him, so they can be a proper family with Nersillia. Even if they weren't romantically involved, Smiley was still important to Xio, for Nersillia's sake.

Since then, Xio was forced to retire from Haven, and has lived with Cassius, Alice, Nersillia, and Smiley, in this two floor house.

That was fine by her, as long as her family is safe.

"Seems like you got a lot on your mind, Mr. Bones," Max said, catching his attention. "I'm going to head out now... I also see your kid hiding behind the wall there." He pointed at Nersillia, as she stared at the two men, while trying her best to hide from them. He remembered he bit her at one point, and the poor girl was disgusted by the flavor of rotten meat.

So disgusted she chewed on Cassius' hand for nearly two weeks.

"See you, Mr. Bones."

"You can call me Smiley, Max."

"Really? Well, all right then, Smiley. Have fun." With that, Max left the kitchen to return to the shed.

[trespiratesque]

Day 6

Sunday, 4/16

Today was Easter. Beck slept in, as he likes to do on Sundays, and I again spent the morning writing. The bananas I'd gotten from Monoprix yesterday were not as perfect and spotless as I'm used to, only about half to two-thirds of the meat was unbruised, so I ate them both for breakfast. We went out hoping for bread - it is truly irresistible - but found a convenience store, where we got some juice, garlic and onion, things like that. Across the street from the convenience store was a curious place - a store called Picard, populated entirely by freezers. (Sorry I haven't watched enough TNG to know if there's a good Picard/freezer reference to make, please email me if you can enlighten me on this matter.) Their stock was 95% frozen food and 5% cookies/crackers. The variety was impressive (obviously we went in), to the point where they have a catalog you can take home (obviously we took one). We also bought a few backup meals in case we wound up in another "everything is closed" situation.

Not everything was closed. But the French take days off very seriously, in that nearly every worker expects to work no more than six days per week. I get the sense that part-time jobs here are a lot more stable than back home - you won't work TThFSu one week and MTWF the next week, you have a regular schedule. Even the Louvre is closed on Tuesdays. So many things close on Sundays, and they especially aren't open at 9:45am on Easter Sunday. When I went back out much later, I would see that more things were open. In the morning, though, we walked a long way and didn't find an open bakery We occasionally spotted a person holding a baguette and peer down the tiny alley whence they came, trying to see where the Precious came from.

When we got home, the next item to tackle was the laundry machine. The night before, it had just run and run and run, with wet clothes coming out at the end. We downloaded an English manual for a similar model and pored over its pages, trying to interpret the unfamiliar symbols. We began an experiment with it under controlled conditions. I told my parents via email that I would call them at 4pm my time, since I hadn't spoken with them since we arrived.

And then my friend Lauren, who is living in Paris this month with her dog and her fiance, asked if I wanted to join her at Les Puces de Saint-Ouen. Les puces means flea market, and knowing nothing more than that I heartily assented. Beck was welcome, but decided to stay home and enjoy some quiet time. We arranged to meet just outside the nearest Metro station, the terminus of the 4 line - all the exits are helpfully labeled and named, so you can say exit #2 and everyone will be able to find it. So I got my shit together, including a bag for any potential purchases. I was thinking maybe a straight-edged knife and a wooden spoon, both of which I wanted for the kitchen and were things I would easily be able to find at the flea markets I've been to in my life.

I met Lauren exactly as promised, outside a store called La Corner de la Recyclerie. I was buoyed by seeing her and by having a new adventure companion - not that I'd been down, or that Beck is anything less than sterling. But adventures take on a different tone, depending who's in the adventuring party, and I'm always interested in sampling new methods. For instance, Lauren might feel confident visiting a place where I might otherwise be afraid to go. She may pause to look at objects I would have passed by. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

The region between the Metro and Les Puces is presently occupied by a lot of construction work, followed by a huge sprawl of people selling newly-manufactured junk. Clothes and purses knocked off from recognized brands, bongs, wall hangings, caps. Men stood stationary in the passing crowd beneath a wide highway, wearing garlands of sunglasses and pushing cell phone cases under strangers' noses. I can't imagine that's a very successful business model, but they're still there so it must be working on someone. It took us some time to penetrate this outer layer, and I admit I began to feel disappointment when I thought that this might be what we had come to see. But Lauren's sense of adventure (and direction) led us onwards, past more and more rickety stalls, until we started to see more permanent structures clustering around the small streets.

These were the wonderlands. We wandered squat alleys lined with plate glass and open doorways, turning sideways to pass mannequins loaded with antique hats, brooches, pins, scarves, vests, bags. Card tables covered in wooden boxes of beads or chandelier crystals, postcards, comic books. It reminded me of the Portobello Road scene from Bedknobs and Broomsticks. (Dang, Disney has Youtube locked down so hard that I can't find a link to the original version.) I cannot overstate the quantity, and for the most part, quality of the things we found there. We spent hours visiting stores, and must have walked right by hundreds barely able to glance at their contents. Toys, books, art, records, furniture (oh God the furniture), tools, lace...everything. I abandoned the hunt for a knife and a wooden spoon as soon as I realized what we had really found, and devoted myself to looking at (and touching, when appropriate) all of the beautiful things rescued from history. I saw surprisingly few items that made me cringe at their racism, and no weapons or war memorabilia apart from some pins.

Lauren was fascinated by the many chandeliers we saw, and I enjoyed her enthusiasm. I bought two pins for myself, one of Link in the style of the old NES game manuals, and a bottlecap pin I thought was cool. I also bought one for Lauren, a tiny lipstick. All of the shopkeepers were very kind, and are clearly used to tourists, though we did both practice some of our French. Lauren and her fiance are doing an intensive French class while they're here, which I think is so wonderful. It's a little out of my price range while I'm not working, but I can't remember the last time I was so interested in the idea of a class. Espcecially since there's very little homework.

One place I especially want to mention is a huge vintage/antique clothing store on the second floor of one of the indoor-ish markets. It was staffed by a man in a Napoleonic-era soldier's uniform and a statuesque woman dressed like an Art Deco Vogue cover illustration. You weren't allowed to touch much, but they had tons of undergarments from a variety of eras - corsets, bustiers, girdles - that I know would give some of my friends fits to see. There were beautiful jackets over on the men's side, and so much more that I was honestly too intimidated to approach.

(Remember when I told my parents I would call them at 4? Haha neither did I until about 2. I texted Beck to see if he would be willing to proxy for me, and he did. He spoke with them for 17 minutes, where my later phone call with them was more like six. Ah well, good that they like him!)

After a couple hours of enchanted browsing, we found me a kebab sandwich and we were able to catch up with a little more focus. Conversations inside the markets were frequently interrupted by "oh, look over there" and "pardonnez-moi," making it difficult to hold onto threads. Lauren had some local queer info to share with me, and we talked about a lot of things. I was very grateful that she had invited me out, and I felt revitalized (if footsore) by the time we wandered out of the market's limits. In fact, we wandered outside the city limits. Les Puces are juuuust at the border of Paris, and walking just a few blocks had taken us into the suburbs. We sat in a park and discussed the future, and how to share happiness and excitement without guilt when the world is in such a dark place. And then we found our way back to the Metro - fortunately, Lauren is a better navigator than I am. And before parting ways, we agreed to plan another meeting with our partners in tow. What a pleasurable outing this was!

Pictures, I hear you demanding. Photos! Well, I didn't take any pictures of anything. Not one single picture all day. Many places had signs precluding photography, and I didn't feel up to asking for permission in the others. So I just tucked the memories away for myself. Sorry, you'll just have to visit! Or maybe next time I will feel emboldened - because I absolutely must visit this place again with Beck. He will like it as much as I do, if not more.

When I got home, I took a short walk with Beck, after which he rubbed my tired feet. I called my parents (who are enjoying the weather down the shore). We played a new Alice-themed card game called Parade. I trounced him in the first round, and he won the next two. He made some potatoes for dinner to go with the leftover lentils, and I threw a simple salad together. We started a game of Scrabble over the meal, but grew tired before we could finish. It felt nice to be able to leave the game unfinished overnight.