#i’m actually so sorry for the exquisitely low quality of this post

[crazy-moko]

Ken ga Toki - Kikusui: Special Birthday Story

IT’S 8TH DECEMBER!!!!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, OLD MAN!!!!

Proofreaders: Ran

Translator’s Note: **This is not an official translation and I’m just doing this as a hobby.**  If you can somewhat read Japanese, please do play the game.

Please do not repost and please buy this story in your own account to support the developers. (it only costs 2 USD)

Protagonist Name:

Himari (Official)

Other Chapters:

Archive

↓ ↓ TRANSLATION UNDER CUT ↓ ↓

Amane Big Sis Himari! Whose birthday will we be celebrating next?

Himari Ah, well...... wait for awhile. I'll check my notebook......

Izuna Ahem! I know who's next! It's Kikusui-han!

Himari You're right, it's going to be Kikusui-sama's birthday soon.

Amane If it's Big Bro Kikusui, we should prepare saké after all!

Izuna That old man, every time he opens his mouth, all he talks about is saké and women.

Himari Ahaha...... In that case, let's prepare a feast with enough dishes for everyone accompanied by saké.

Amane Uh huh! I'm looking forward to it too! But, who's going to bring Big Bro Kikusui to headquarters?

Izuna I'm not doing it. That old man's real stubborn after all. He won't listen to a thing I say.

Saganbou What're you guys talking about?

Karajishi You should enter the bath after training and wash away the sweat. You're going to catch a cold.

Amane Big Bro Saganbou! Karajishi too! Heheh, I just thought of a good idea!

Izuna Ah! I know what Amane-han is thinking about! Hey, we have a favour to ask of you guys.

Saganbou --I see, so you guys want us to bring Kikusui here?

Karajishi Why do I have to? If I'm that free, I'd rather continue my training.

Saganbou Mt. Takao is neither too high nor too low, and it seems that it's just right for mountain running. I don't see a lot of foul people running around either.

Karajishi Mountain running...... Tch. There's no helping it. I'll go.

Amane Thanks, Karajishi! Run as much as you want!

Karajishi Hmph......

Saganbou Well, I'm going to fly though.

————————————————————————————————-

Saganbou Oh, as expected, you're fast! I also just reached here.

Karajishi *Exhale*...... This mountain certainly has the optimal gradient for mountain running. It'll serve as a good training.

Saganbou Well, good for you. Back to business; that hut over there is where Kikusui lives. I'll go call him first so Karajishi, you can wait for us here.

Karajishi Yeah.

————————————————————————————————-

Saganbou He~y! Kikusui! It's me, Saganbou. I know you're there.

Kikusui Ooh, it's you. 'Tis been a while. Did you get some fine saké recently or something?

Saganbou Well, you're far from it but it's always been like that. The princess said they're holding a birthday celebration for you at headquarters. They also prepared a lot of saké and side dishes.

Kikusui Oh ho~, the little missy is? Well, that deserves some gratitude.

Saganbou Alright, then let's go. Do you want me to carry you while I fly? Or would you rather run with Karajishi?

Kikusui Absolutely not! First of all, I never said I'll go.

Saganbou Huh? Do you have some other business or something?

Kikusui Yes. I need to collect the herbs in the mountains before the snow buries them. When the snow piles up, it's close to impossible to collect the herbs after all. Better stock them up now.

Saganbou I see. Then it's better to finish up as soon as possible...... I bet the princess will be disappointed.

Karajishi Hey, you're being slow. If you guys are doing to engage in idle chatter, do it on the way down.

Saganbou Yeah, sorry. I made you wait. Well, you see--

Karajishi Got it. So we just have to pick the herbs, right? I'll give you a hand. We should be able to finish in an hour.

Saganbou An hour!? That's impossible! You can say that because you don't know how vast Mt. Takao is.

Karajishi Hmph, I can do it 'cause it's me. Hurry up and lead the way to the places where the herbs are growing.

Kikusui Oh ho, what an interesting oni young'un. Well then, why don't you show me what you've got. Fill this basket up with the herbs.

Karajishi Got it. Let's hurry up and go.

Saganbou Ah, jeez. I don't know anything about this. I'm not going to help either!

Karajishi I just have to collect the herbs from this area, right?

Kikusui Oh ho, aren't you impatient. "Do" be careful of poisonous snakes. They tend to be more menacing before hibernation.

Karajishi No problem. Let's start.

Karajishi and Kikusui both collected the herbs and placed it into their respective baskets on their backs.

Karajishi (The basket is already half full. We can finish in half an hour instead of an hour) (Well, that youkai grandpa probably hasn't gathered much) (Let's see--)

*Kikusui appears behind him*

Karajishi Wh-, what!?

Kikusui Oh ho, what an abundant harvest~.

The basket on Kikusui's back is already filled with herbs.

Karajishi How did you- in such a short time? Did you use a technique!? That's cheating!

Kikusui Oh ho, I wonder. Maybe I'm just accustomed to it?

Karajishi Shit! I'll catch up soon. Just you wait.

Kikusui Hohoho, I can't lose to the young'uns just yet!

Saganbou (When did this turn into a competition......?)

Karajishi Huff, huff...... I got more herbs faster than you.

Kikusui Puff, puff...... but my herbs are in better quality compared to yours.

Saganbou Good work, guys. Now we can go down the mountain and back to headquarters. Karajishi, you'll be running down the mountain like you did just now right?

Karajishi ......Yeah...... It's good for training......

Kikusui You should bluff in moderation. Saganbou, I'll have you carry me down. I don't fancy being carried by a man, but I want to quickly down myself with the little missy's saké.

————————————————————————————————-

--The next day.

Himari This is...... A letter from Kikusui-sama?

"Saké after a job well done is truly exquisite. The side dishes were perfect masterpieces as well. Moreover, it's been awhile I competed with a young'un and it was fun!"

Himari *Giggle*, I'm glad that Kikusui-sama was happy with it. Hmm? There's something in the envelope......

Another piece of paper fell out of the envelope.

Himari What is this?

Himari Wow, such a cute painting! *Giggle*, it'd be great if we can celebrate Kikusui-sama's birthday again.

~~Fin~~

————————————————————————————————-

Notes:

Izuna is actually spelt Idzuna but it’d be weird since Mikadzuki is Mikazuki, so that’s how it is.

Izuna is speaking in dialect. I suck at dialects so here u see normal English instead of fancy-schmancy English.

Izuna calls Saganbou��“ossan” but I didnt put it in since I’m not sure what he calls Karajishi.

Kikusui is a Nurarihyon if you guys don’t know. He’s also very very old he gave up counting his age. Probably older than Saganbou at 300+ years old. Everything else will explain itself just know he’s a Nurarihyon.

Extra Notes:  BIRTHDAY RUSH! And I cleaned the illustration properly this time. It’s not visible in this post but, Karajishi is also such a tsundere XD.

[lia-jones]

Growing Pains - Chapter Ten - Finding Solace

My doorbell rang at 6:30 sharp. Apparently the driver shared Victor’s punctuality, and for a moment I considered how effective Victor was on keeping everyone on their toes. Without answering through the intercom, I went downstairs.

The black sedan was parked on the curb in front of the building. I walked to the car and the front passenger window opened. I immediately recognized the bass voice coming from inside.

“Get in.”

I paused for a moment, startled. Didn’t he say he was going to send a car?

“What? You forgot how the door opens?” Well, good morning to you too, Mr. Sunshine.

“Good morning.” I said, getting in the car. Of course, I didn’t have a reply. He pulled the car from the curb and just drove, his eyes focused on the road.

“Your coffee is getting cold.” Victor finally spoke.

I looked down. In the cup holder, there was a paper coffee cup with my name on it.

“Thank you.” I said before taking a sip, the warmth and the caffeine making me feel a whole lot better.

“It’s nothing.”

He spoke without even glancing at me, his eyes on the road at all times. I looked closer at him, hoping he would feel my gaze and at the very least glance at me. After a moment, I realized he was lost in thought. Like the true daughter of a therapist, I studied his posture. He looked tense, his shoulders not all the way down, his grip hard on the wheel.

“You look tense.” I finally blurted out, not caring if he would like it or not.

“Don’t worry about it.”  Ok, he didn’t want to talk. Tough luck.

“How did it go yesterday?” I pressed again.

Victor sighed.

“I spent yesterday’s afternoon with a forensic team. Ted embezzled almost two million dollars from the company. The lawyers pressed charges. He will be taken for questioning today.”

“I’m sorry. I understand it must be hard, you being friends and all.”

“It’s my company. It’s my responsibility.” Victor’s expression turned sour. “I shouldn’t have let friendship affect business.”

“You speak like this is your fault.” I said, in disbelief. Was he really taking the blame for being robbed blind?

Victor was quiet for a while, focused on entering LFG’s parking lot and parking his car at his reserved spot. He killed the engine and sat back on his seat.

“It is my responsibility.” He finally said, his voice low. “The people I hire, what and how they do, all of that is my responsibility.”

“That’s honorable, but a little pretentious as well. You can’t possibly know everything about everyone, know exactly what’s on their minds, predict every crappy thing life throws at you.”

“And even though it’s painstakingly obvious that I can’t, that is exactly what’s expected from me.” His eyes were filled with a painful resolve. Heavy is the head that wears the crown, they say. Victor was fully aware of how heavy the crown was.

Our ride in the elevator to the top floor was silent. Victor kept himself busy with his phone, and I spent the time counting up the floors as we rose through the tall building.

“Today will be a hard day.” Victor said, touching my arm slightly. “Dealing with the mess Ted left won’t be easy, this is more than just making payments, I need to clear the company’s name. I need to protect what took so many years to build. The partners already know you, they will trust you. I’m counting on your help.”

I smiled softly at Victor.

“I’ll do my best. Thank you for trusting my skills.”

 “I do.” His eyes were earnest. “I do trust you.”

As I walked into the office, I was startled with the piles of documents in both desks. Victor followed me in and, without another word, took his jacket and rolled up his sleeves.

“So, what do you want me to do?” I said, not even bothering to sit. I took one of the files and skimmed through it.

Victor leaned on the desk and explained his strategy to fix that mess. Some of the partners were trying to back away from the funding, already seeking other investors. Every file contained an alternative investment plan, one more alluring to the partners, in order to keep them with LFG. Ted held the accounts of some major companies, and losing them would be a hard blow on LFG’s reputation and profits.

Goldman joined us shortly after, his hand busy with coffee and food to fuel our morning. I spent the entire time talking to the partners, apologizing for what had happened and offering a renegotiation of the contractual terms.

We never left the office, except for bathroom breaks, having lunch while working. One by one, the files on both our desks disappeared.

By the time Goldman took the last file, it was dark out.

“Are we done?” I asked, leaning back on my chair.

Victor was already leaning on his chair, staring at nothing. He has taken off his tie and undone the first two buttons of his shirt, and he looked exhausted, faint dark circles surrounding his eyes, his hair slightly disheveled.

“Yes. We’re done for today.” Victor said, getting up. “Get your things, I’ll drive you home.”

We left the office and walked in the elevator silently, the humming of the elevator motors the only audible thing. I was startled by Victor’s voice.

“You know, we deserve a treat after all this hard work. Have dinner with me.”

“Sounds good. I mean, if you’re not too tired. I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“Nonsense.” Victor shook his head. “I could use the company and the distraction.”

Victor drove us to an eclectic part of town, filled with buildings of odd colors and shapes. We could see art everywhere: in the walls, the gardens, the light posts. Everything was decorated with something original and beautiful, representing some culture.

“I have been here for what? Almost six months? And I have never visited this part of town, it’s beautiful.” I said as I looked around.

“It’s southwest Loveland, the artistic part of town.” Victor explained. “If you follow the street we just passed to your left, you’ll find Loveland’s Museum. A few blocks after, the Music School and Loveland’s Theatre, where Loveland’s Orchestra performs.” He raised an eyebrow at me. “You’ve been here for months and haven’t properly visited the city yet?”

“Levi keeps inviting me, but work on my thesis during the weekend, so…” I shrugged. My life had been all work, no play. I had to do something about that.

“Levi?”

“My neighbor. He’s an immigrant like me, but he’s been here for years, so he knows his way around the city.”

“That’s ridiculous. You should visit the city with someone that is actually from Loveland, someone who actually knows the place.” Victor said, frowning. “I could give you a tour one of these days.”

“You?” I was surprised. “It’s fine, you probably have better things to do.”

“You don’t need to worry about what I have or don’t have to do.” Victor replied coldly. “I know every nook and corner of this town. I will gladly show you around.”

“Ok, thank you.” I nodded. He was probably just being polite, so there was no use speaking about it anymore.

We arrived at a secluded restaurant named Solace. It was totally decorated in shades of black and white, the walls covered with photographs of what the owner seemingly perceived as comfort: hands holding, two people hugging, a sunset, someone crying with joy.

“So, what do you think?” Victor asked, as we sat at a small table at the corner.

“I love it. The art is beautiful.” I said, still admiring the photographs on the walls.

“I knew you’d like it.” Victor picked up the menu. “The food is exquisite as well. You should try the duck, it’s delicious. Do you want to pick the wine, Miss “my-father-is-an-oenologist”?” Victor handed me the wine menu.

“You overestimate my knowledge of wine. Please do the honors.” I gave the menu back to Victor. He opened it, reading it carefully.

“So we’re both having the duck… How do you feel about… Beaujolais?”

“Fruity wine. I like the way you think.” I nodded. I didn’t have to be a connoisseur as my father to know Victor understood wine perfectly. I imagined how it would be like if Victor ever visited my parents’ house. He wouldn’t leave the cellar.

Our food arrived shortly, and Victor was absolutely right, it was delicious. The kind of food you’d expect from a 3  Michelin star restaurant, but in a small venue, where you could eat and just chill, listen to the music and enjoy the art, straight from work. Really my kind of place. Simple, elegant and with good food.

“How’s your meal?” Victor asked.

“Like you said: exquisite. And the wine matches it perfectly.”

“Oh, I almost forgot.” Victor said, filling my empty glass with more wine. “We need to toast.” He said, raising his glass. “To a job well done.”

“Cheers!” I smiled, as I raised my glass and clinked it with Victor’s. “You have to look me in the eyes while you drink, or you will get seven years of terrible sex.”

For the life of me, I don’t know why I said that. Maybe the wine was getting to me. Luckily, Victor found my words amusing, chuckling at my moronic statement.

“You believe in such a superstition?” He asked, holding his cup in the air, without drinking it.

“No, but… It’s seven years of terrible sex. Better safe than sorry.”

“Sure, nobody wants that. Let’s drink then.” He brought the cup to his lips and drank, his eyes never leaving mine.

“Your girlfriends will deeply appreciate it.” I nodded ceremoniously.

“What girlfriends?”

“Oh, please, a guy like you? Wealthy and good looking?” I raised my eyebrows at him.

“We do have a whole department for girlfriends at LFG.” He stated, his face dead serious. “They have to fill an application, stating how they can make my wildest dreams come true, and occasionally I drop by to beat them off with a stick.” He paused for my reaction, which was a laugh. “Where have you ever seen me with a woman? Even if I did have women lining up for me, they don’t interest me. I prefer quality over quantity.”

“You’re in search of the one and only? When you find her, please introduce her to me? I want to see the girl that meets your very high standards.” My heart panged. I ignored it completely.

“I don’t think I have to search much longer, actually.” He looked at me meaningfully. My heart swelled. My head immediately stumped it down. Stop reading into things, Andrea.

“Well, what are you doing here with me, then? Shouldn’t you be with her instead? Go get your piece of heaven, be happy.” I wanted to sound perky and positive, but my tone came out all wrong, my uneasiness about the subject clearly showing. Victor smiled.

“I have to be patient with her. If I come out too strong, I’ll scare her away. Besides, she’s terrible at understanding the subtle hints I give her, so I’ll have to wait for her to put all the pieces together before I can actually be blunt about it.” She has to be incredibly stupid if she’s missing the chance, I thought.

“I don’t know, if it’s this hard to begin with, if you have to use such caution, maybe it’s not worth it at all.” My words sounded more bitter than I intended.

“It’s supposed to be hard. The things that matter to you the most usually are. If you’re not willing to give it your all, put yourself on the spot and risk losing everything, it’s because that thing wasn’t as important as you thought.” Victor looked me in the eyes and rested his hand on the table. I wanted to hold it, but refrained. He quickly took his hand away, taking his glass to drink more wine. I did the same.

“Enough about me.” He stated. “What about you? Besides that Lewis guy, any love interest?”

I almost snorted the wine I was drinking.

“Ok, first: Levi is not a love interest. Not at all, not once, not ever.” I said, gesticulating furiously. “Second: I don’t have the time to visit the city, where would I find the time to date? No dates.”

“Does that mean you’re off the market, so to speak?”

“It means I don’t even have a clue where the market is. I’m still finding my ground here.”

“Good to know.” Victor smiled.

“What’s good to know? The fact that I’m pathetic? I’m glad you enjoy it, always a pleasure to serve.” I spoke ironically, pretending to be offended.

“It’s good to know that you’re working hard on finding your ground. You have all these plans, your doctorate, launching your career, I hope you see all of those through.” Victor replied earnestly.

Me too. It was so important for me to get my life back on track after so much I had been through. To find my own solace. I promised myself that when I got my diploma I would take a picture of it and give it to the owner of this restaurant.

I waited by the entrance as Victor paid the bill. I hadn’t noticed before the huge photograph near the door, hands lovingly holding a pregnant belly.

“There’s no solace like your mother’s womb.” I hear Victor speaking behind me. “Where you find nothing but warmth and love.”

I didn’t reply. I was afraid words would let out the tears I was hiding. I got out the door.

“Is everything ok?” He followed me, watching me closely.

“Oh, yeah, everything is fine.” I tried to downplay it, but he could hear in my voice how tight my throat was.

“Everything is not fine.” Victor insisted, softly putting his hand on my back. “Tell me the truth. What’s wrong?”

“Everything is fine!” I laughed. “I just got emotional with the photograph and I didn’t want you to make fun of me. I admit, maybe I had too much wine.” Victor’s eyes were deep into mine, scanning my expression for any sign of deceit. “Do you mind taking me home? It’s late, and we had a rough day…”

“Sure.” Victor promptly answered, as he snapped out of focus. “You’re right, we’re both tired, we should get some rest.”

He seemed to find my excuse satisfactory, dropping the subject completely. But I suspected he didn’t really believe me, because his hand never left my back as we walked to the car.

[neon-mooni]

FACADE STAGEPLAY Thu Jan 31 05 31 29 2019

TRIP Where are the new wine glasses?

GRACE What for?

TRIP That should be obvious!

GRACE Oh God, Trip, don't turn this into a big production, please!

TRIP Jesus Grace, come on, I'm not asking a lot here!

GRACE What -- Trip, don't give me that look!

(Janet knocks on the front door.)

(Janet opens the front door.)

TRIP Uhp, she's here!

GRACE What?! You told me it'd be an hour from now!

TRIP No, she's supposed to be here now!

GRACE God... Trip!

TRIP Janet!!

TRIP Hey!   It's been too long!     How are you doing,  you look great!

JANET Bitch freaking teleported!

TRIP Uh...

TRIP Well, anyway... why don't you come in...

TRIP Uh, let me go get Grace...

GRACE No, no, here we are!

(JANET knocks on the front door.)

(JANET closes the front door.)

GRACE Janet,

GRACE Hi!  How are you?  I'm so happy to see you after so long!

TRIP Yeah, it's been too long.

(JANET kisses trip.)

TRIP Oh, ha ha!  Thanks. Ha.

(JANET kisses grace.)

GRACE Oh, yes,

GRACE mm-wah! (kiss on cheek)

GRACE How sweet.

GRACE So, please, make yourself at home!

GRACE Janet,  seeing you again makes me remember the wonderful times we all used to have.

GRACE   H-mmm (happy smile sound)

TRIP Ha ha, yeah... -- (interrupted)

JANET Like when we used to have sex?

TRIP Ha ha!  Oh I think we're going to need some drinks first if we're going to talk about sex.

GRACE Trip, come on, that's not funny.

TRIP (little sigh) Some days you're the dog, some days you're the hydrant.

TRIP Hey, I just realized something.

GRACE What...

TRIP Oh, tonight's a special night!  A celebration in fact!

GRACE It is?

TRIP Janet,  remember, it was almost exactly ten years ago, tonight, that you introduced us.

TRIP Senior year of college!

GRACE Oh... geez...

TRIP Remember that?

JANET Uhhh

TRIP Um, well, without you, we wouldn't even have this celebration.

TRIP Oh,    Janet,  take a look at this photo I just put up from our trip to Italy a couple of weeks ago...

GRACE (little sigh)

TRIP Janet,  Come here, I want you to look at this! -- (interrupted)

GRACE Janet,  come over here and sit on the couch with me.

TRIP No, hold on.  Now,      Janet,  what does this picture make you think of?

GRACE Oh, Trip, don't put our friend on -- (interrupted)

JANET Protection

TRIP Mmm... no...

GRACE I like that, that's a good answer...!

TRIP (little sigh) No just take a look,  this says...

JANET Walls

TRIP Romance!  It says... romance...!

GRACE (little sigh)

TRIP Actually I took this -- (interrupted)

(JANET hugs trip.)

TRIP Oh! ha ha, you're hugging me!

GRACE Janet,  careful, too much affection can go to Trip's head...

TRIP (clears throat)

(Trip shakes the advice ball.)

TRIP Perhaps.

TRIP Heh!

GRACE (little sigh)

(JANET sits on the couch.)

GRACE Yes, you can help me understand where I went wrong with my new decorating, ha ha.

(JANET gets up from the couch.)

TRIP Grace, oh, no, we don't need to do that.

GRACE Uhh, what I wanted with this room was some kind of post-modern style...

TRIP Yeah, yeah...!

JANET The pictures don't match.

GRACE Ugh...

GRACE Uhh, you know, when I look at this wedding picture, hanging here in this room...

TRIP There's nothing wrong with it...

GRACE it obviously just does not go anymore... with my new decorating, I mean, heh.

TRIP (little impatient sigh) -- (interrupted)

JANET It's creepy.

TRIP Well, it's funny how after a full day's work designing magazine ads, Grace finds the time to decorate... and re-decorate...

GRACE Ha ha, uhh, I guess it's just the artist in me dying to get out.

JANET Trip how was your day?

TRIP What?  No, I'm good, we're good, everything's good...

TRIP (clears throat)

TRIP Grace, it seems no one has a problem with your decorating...

GRACE Trip, that's what you always say, but believe me, this room needs to be redone.  Uhh, first chance I get I'm going to return whatever furniture they're willing to take ba

TRIP Okay, okay, I tried...    -- (interrupted)

JANET Let's have a drink.

TRIP Oh, yeah, I'm gonna fix us some drinks in a sec!

TRIP Good news, I just fully loaded the bar, with the real quality stuff... only the best for my guests.

JANET Scotch.

TRIP Yeah, hang on, ooh, I'm going to make you one of my fabulous drinks in just a minute!

GRACE Uhh,    Janet,  try not to encourage him.

(Trip shakes the advice ball.)

TRIP Heh -- it's not a good idea, heh.

TRIP Ha ha, ha, this crazy thing, always giving me the wrong advice, heh.

(JANET uses the answering machine.)

ANSWERING MACHINE No new messages

(JANET picks up the phone.)

GRACE Trip, are you going to carry that thing around all evening?

TRIP (frustrated -- (interrupted)

JANET 9-1-1

GRACE Ugh... let's not talk about that anymore, I'm redoing the whole place anyway. -- (interrupted)

(JANET puts down the phone.)

TRIP (little sigh)

TRIP Ah,    Janet,  I'm sorry, you didn't come here to hear this...

GRACE What?

JANET It's okay.

GRACE What?  No, I, I'm -- I'm fine, we're fine, everything's fine...  -- (interrupted)

(JANET hugs trip.)

GRACE God... you're really laying it on thick tonight!

GRACE You know what... I'll be right back.

TRIP Grace, sweetie, wait --

GRACE No, no, stay put, I'll just be in the kitchen.

JANET What the fuck did I do?

TRIP (frustrated sigh)

TRIP Um, Grace, darling, could you --

JANET Trip is Grace abusing you?

TRIP could you bring out some of that prosciutto, you know, that we served at our last party?

TRIP Heh heh, Grace is a whiz with hors doeurves.  You should, uh, -- (interrupted)

JANET Trip does Grace hit you?

TRIP Uhh, Jesus, why are we all having this... misunderstanding... tonight... uhh...

TRIP (frustrated sigh)

JANET Trip does Grace abuse you?

TRIP I -- I hope you don't think... mmm... there's... there's nothing... heh...

TRIP Uh, heh heh, Grace has been really, stressed out lately, I try to calm her down and get her to relax, but... uhh...

JANET Do you need help?

TRIP wha... you... eh... uh...

TRIP um...

GRACE (BREAKING DISHES SOUND IN KITCHEN)

TRIP Jesus, what was that?

GRACE Argh!

TRIP Grace, what happened?

JANET You can leave her.

TRIP Uhh!  Heh!  You... wha... oh... heh heh...

TRIP Hey -- hey, uh...   Janet,

TRIP I meant to tell you, we're going to have this big, big party next weekend.

TRIP Do you -- do you think you can make it?  

TRIP It's gonna be great.

JANET Sure

TRIP Sweet...

TRIP Hey, hey, uh -- why don't you, um... invite that woman in accounting you were telling me about... um...

TRIP What was her name...

TRIP Vanessa?

GRACE Who?

TRIP Uhh... Oh!  Uh, it's, uh, she -- she -- she's a, she -- she's this interesting woman that, uh, our friend works with.

JANET Nobody

TRIP She's, uh... into what, skydiving... or was it scuba diving...?

GRACE Janet,  you've been telling Trip about interesting women at your work? -- (interrupted)

JANET No

(Trip shakes the advice ball.)

TRIP Not gonna happen.

TRIP Uhh...

GRACE Oh God, Trip, if I have to hear that thing one more time, I'm going to go insane, please! -- (interrupted)

JANET It's not like that.

TRIP Just leave my little advice toy out of this, okay?  It's not hurting anyone, it just gives advice!

TRIP So... drinks...

TRIP This is great... For us I'm going to open an amazing, I mean, exquisite Bordeaux.   -- (interrupted)

JANET Scotch

TRIP W -- well, uh, I'm going to open an exquisite Bordeaux!

TRIP Best of the best, you can't buy this in stores... Very, very special --

JANET Scotch

GRACE God Trip, -- (interrupted)

TRIP No no I really think we should have this wine, trust me, trust me! -- (interrupted)

JANET Scotch

GRACE Janet,  maybe you'd like some juice, or a mineral water?

TRIP Yeah, no, we need to open this wine!  Our friend is here, we're going to enjoy ourselves, that's all there is to it!

JANET Yes

GRACE (frustrated sigh)

TRIP I've been dying to try this Bordeaux for a long time, this is the perfect opportunity --

GRACE That's not our anniversary wine is it?

GRACE That's not the Bordeaux we saved from our wedding, that we were going to drink on our tenth wedding anniversary, RIGHT?!

TRIP Whoops.

TRIP Uhh, you're driving me insane!

JANET You fxxing dumbass

TRIP Goddamn anniversary wine... -- (interrupted)

GRACE Huh?  What are you saying to me?

TRIP Grace, I do one little thing wrong, and you're cold and distant!  Just one thing wrong, that's all it takes!

GRACE (impatient sigh)     Janet,  I...

GRACE (frustrated sigh) -- (interrupted)

JANET Grace chill out.

GRACE Yeah, okay, again with that, okay...

TRIP My goddamn advice ball...

TRIP I like my advice ball, it's just a little thing I like, but you look down on it, like it's some sort of low class piece of shit!

GRACE Oh, my God...!

JANET It's not a big deal.

GRACE Alright, you know what,     Janet,

GRACE I'm going to ask you something.

TRIP Grace --

GRACE Trip, let me ask our guest a question.

GRACE Janet,  yes or no...

GRACE In a marriage, shouldn't one person try to make their spouse a better person, even if they don't want it?

TRIP What?

GRACE I mean, even if they don't actually want it, shouldn't you help your spouse understand a better way -- (interrupted)

JANET No. That's called abuse.

GRACE What...?!

GRACE Oh, alright... yes...

GRACE Don't you see, Trip?!  Our marriage... is a sham, Trip!  Don't you see that?  It's all fake, all pretend...

TRIP Oh, Jesus...!

TRIP Uhh!  Yeah, go on, go away!  

TRIP I can't even frigging look at you.

TRIP What the... goddammit!

JANET Trip, leave her.

TRIP Wait, what, are you trying to explain this to me?

GRACE What? Are you talking to me?

TRIP What's it to you?

JANET She's abusive.

TRIP Janet,  this has never ever happened before...!

TRIP uhh...

JANET You don't have to lie to me Trip.

TRIP Look, if -- (interrupted)

GRACE Janet,  (annoyed sigh) Trip is just so...

TRIP Oh ho, so we're talking about me, are we?

GRACE What?

GRACE Damn it, Trip, you and my parents are always planning these stupid trips I have to go on..

TRIP They're vacations! Expensive ones at that!

GRACE Of course nobody thinks to ask me -- (interrupted)

JANET Uh you could say no.

GRACE No?

TRIP Ah, you want to know more. Thank you, that helps her. Grace, you never want to go on vacation with me and your parents - so I have to plan everything!

GRACE Uhh..

GRACE No let's -- let's focus on us, our relationship.

GRACE I think Trip's afraid of visiting his parents. He does everything he can to avoid seeing them.

TRIP Afraid of my parents?! My parents are idiots.

JANET I think you're controlling.

GRACE No, it's true... -- (interrupted)

TRIP Aha!

GRACE Where did that come from?  You're making no sense!

TRIP Look, let's talk about us both, not just one of us.

TRIP You know what makes me so angry?  

GRACE What?

TRIP How you've so conveniently forgotten how much you used to actually hate painting!

GRACE Janet,  I -- I -- uhh...!

JANET Grace is abusive.

GRACE Let's talk some more about us, our relationship.

TRIP Grace, even though you're now a creative director at work,

(JANET sits on the couch.)

TRIP the truth is... you're not an artist.

GRACE Uhh...!

TRIP I'm sorry, you're not.

GRACE Janet,  uhh...

JANET You need therapy.

TRIP Aha!

GRACE Janet,  Therapy?

TRIP Actually I think therapy could cure Grace of her obsession with being an artist --

GRACE I'm not the one with the problem, Trip, you have the problem with art, not me --

TRIP and we could stop wasting our time and money on all this redecorating!  

GRACE Uhh,    Janet,

JANET You're spiraling.

GRACE I don't need some goddamn shrink to tell me I'm repressed or something, okay?

GRACE Uhh, this is insane...

TRIP Okay, no, I want to focus on Grace.

GRACE Trip, how could I ever imagine trying to be an artist,  when you get so angry any time I mention painting!

TRIP Uhh...

GRACE Janet,  I can't take it anymore...

JANET Then leave!

TRIP No, see, Grace, you're the one who can't stop obsessing about how you 'could've been an artist'.  

TRIP It's not me.

GRACE Uhh...

GRACE Look, let's not focus on just me or you, let's talk about us.

GRACE Janet,  you -- you blame me for all this, don't you?

TRIP See, I don't think you really want to be an artist.   -- (interrupted)

JANET Yes

GRACE Yes?

GRACE Oh my God... you think I'm lying!

GRACE Uhh...

GRACE Uhh...

GRACE Uhh, you... uhh... does anyone... uhh...

GRACE Uhh...

JANET You two need a divorce.

GRACE Aha!

TRIP D -- divorce?     Janet,  you think we should get a divorce?  

JANET Yes.

GRACE Yes?

TRIP This is bullshit...!   you're saying it's over, we should just give up...?!

TRIP Oh, geez...

JANET Yes.

GRACE Yes?

TRIP Let's talk some more about us both.

TRIP Grace, we don't -- we don't have to do this... things are okay, we can just --

GRACE Janet,  I can't stand the pretending anymore... I can't take it!

TRIP No, Grace, we can... I mean, come on, don't make it out to be so bad...

GRACE Uhh...

TRIP You know, I can't say Grace never acts loving towards me...

TRIP Janet,  She's all over me at our goddamn parties, trying to look good in front of the guests!

JANET Do you love Trip?

GRACE Uhh...

GRACE Look, I think we should focus on Trip.

TRIP Janet,  you know, it's weird to me, when I'm on a business trip, Grace never calls me, ever!

GRACE Uhh...

TRIP She says she's afraid to call me!

JANET Why?

TRIP Why?

GRACE Ah, you want to know more... see, that might help him...

TRIP Uh, what?!  I, I -- I, I mean, why, is -- is it something I'm... uhh...

TRIP You know... uhh...

TRIP Look, let's talk about us both, not just one of us.

TRIP It's so annoying... Grace, why is it that anytime I want to do something nice for you, you resist it?

GRACE Trip...

TRIP  Like I always have to convince you?

GRACE Janet,  you know, we... uhh...

JANET Because it's gaudy!

TRIP It's just never easy with you, Grace, and it wears me down.

GRACE (frustrated sigh)

JANET You don't need to be rich.

TRIP Look around here. We're doing well, really well.

GRACE God, Trip, I can't believe even now you're still... -- (interrupted)

JANET No.

TRIP No?

GRACE Janet,  thank you, that helps him.

TRIP Well, I -- I mean, this place, it...  it -- it's everyone's dream, right?

JANET No.

TRIP Okay, I've had enough of this bullshit!!

TRIP Janet,  I know what you're trying to hint at...

TRIP about me...

TRIP about our lifestyle...

TRIP Do you two want the truth?  Huh?  

JANET Yes.

TRIP Grace, huh?

GRACE Yes...!

TRIP See,    Janet,  I've been paying attention to what you've been saying tonight.

TRIP You've been pushing me tonight.

TRIP And I wonder, are you really my friend or not.

GRACE Trip!

TRIP Janet,  I ask you this -- yes or no...

JANET Fuck you Trip

TRIP Do you really think that...

TRIP kissing me...

TRIP suggesting that we get divorced...

TRIP and what you said about trying to change the other person...

TRIP that I'm supposed to realize something about myself from all that?

TRIP Is what you've said tonight supposed to add up somehow, to something?

TRIP Is it?  I just want a yes or no.

TRIP This is not a trick question.

TRIP No?  Huh... I'm surprised you say that, I thought it did.

TRIP Grace...

TRIP uhh...

TRIP I'm -- I'm just... af -- afraid of... of being poor.

GRACE Poor?  Trip, we have so much! What do you --

JANET Why?

TRIP It never feels like enough!

TRIP As a kid... it -- it was...   My family was always on the edge.

GRACE So you weren't rich, but --

TRIP We even spent six months in a shelter once.

GRACE Oh my God...!

JANET Oh my God

TRIP All of this stuff...

TRIP Is a kind of protection from that ever happening again.  

TRIP uhh...

JANET I'm so sorry.

GRACE uhh...

GRACE Oh my God...!

TRIP Janet,  I --

GRACE Janet,  I --

TRIP What?!

(JANET gets up from the couch.)

GRACE What?!

GRACE This changes everything...

TRIP Yes, it does change everything.

TRIP I think it's over.

GRACE Trip, what --

TRIP No!!

TRIP It's over, Grace, can't you see that?

GRACE Wha... You just told me --

TRIP I just told you something about me I should have said a long time ago:

JANET (claps loudly)

TRIP I'm afraid of being poor.

TRIP And no,    Janet,  uhh, hold on...

(JANET knocks on the front door.)

(JANET opens the front door.)

GRACE Trip, no, I... we...

TRIP No, Grace, this is about me.  I see now it's not about you, or about our marriage.

GRACE Me...?  Our -- our marriage...?  Hey, no, wait!

TRIP Janet,  I'm sorry.  Thank you, though, you really helped me.

GRACE Trip!

(Trip closes the front door.)

[multifandomfreakshow]

Waitin’ on You (Poly!HamilsquadxFem!Reader)

[ Hey everyone, I know I'm the worst and I haven’t posted in forever, but I’m slowly getting my Hamilsquad muse back. I actually wrote this a while back, and didn’t think it was good enough to publish but I feel bad for not putting out content. So, lovelies, here you go! 

Fem!Reader, upset her boyfriends have not been making time for her, goes all out for a Schuyler party in the hopes of her lovers attending. But she unexpectedly catches the eye of someone else. 

TW: Alcohol/drinking? Maybe a few curse words? ]

It was finally the end of the fall semester, but in all honestly, you didn't really care. No classes meant you'd be home for a month, doing nothing, because all of your boyfriends seemed to be too busy for you lately. Herc was sewing in his studio downtown most of the time, Alexander never had time for anything other than writing and John & Laf bartended into the late hours of the night. The last 3 weeks or so consisted of you coming home to an empty house, letting out a forlorn, "I'm home..." to no one. Sure, they'd leave you messages and voicemails to let you know they missed you, but it wasn't enough for you. Falling asleep alone and waking up alone, because they never wanted to climb into bed and risk waking you, was taxing when you were so used to dozing off in their arms.

You'd voiced your complaints with your best friends, the Schuyler sisters. Peggy and Eliza and Maria, Eliza's girlfriend, offered consoling words and pats on your back but Angelica decided to be a little more proactive. She called each of your boyfriends and left them each a voicemail, something along the lines of, "Hey guys, it's Angelica! We're throwing a party at our place later tonight, and if you aren't there to pamper your girlfriend, I'll never let you hear the end of it! I'm making it my personal mission to make Y/N look dazzling, and if she get's some attention from other party goers-" you glared at her, exasperatedly flailing your arms at her. "What the heck are you doing?!" You hastily whispered at her. She held a finger up and continued speaking into the phone, "Well, you get the gist. Don't let us down, boys! See you tonight." The look on your face cracked Peggy up, but Maria continued to reassuringly pat your hand with Eliza's arms around her shoulders from behind. "Angelica, what the hell?? I don't want them to be mad at me, I just want them to pay attention to me!" Confidently, she buffed her nails on her blazer and shifted her hips to one side. "And if they don't after that bait, then they're begging you to get swept away by another man." Before you could even protest, the eldest sister grasped your hand and tugged you out of your home.

The Schuyler estate never failed to amaze you, large and elegant and intricately decorated inside and out. With Mr. Schuyler away on business, the sisters unanimously decided it was about time for a quality party. Angelica had sat you down on her bed and threw open her closet doors to find an outfit for you. "Angelica, I don't know if any of your clothes are going to fit me. You're kinda way tinier than I am." You mentioned out to her, eyeing her slender figure compared to your curvy one. Peggy was going through her case of makeup on Angelica's vanity, picking up product after product and holding out towards you, as if she was gauging what colors would look best on you. You could tell by the scrunching of her nose when she decided the color wasn't right, or by the tip of her tongue peeking out of the side of her lips when she liked the product for you. "Well," she offered, her eyes shifting from what looked to be a single eyeshadow to you and then back, "We've got my closet and Eliza's to work with." Eliza was sitting behind you, brushing your hair out, and discussing with her girlfriend just how to style it for the party. "Ooh!" She chimed in, "Angelica, try the red dress Peggy borrowed from Maria last month! That would be perfect for, Y/N." with a target in mind, Angelica shuffled through her closet a bit quicker. "AHA!" She exclaimed, hurrying out of her closet with a garment in her arms, "I bought the same one in black, too!" Maria's brow furrowed and she let out a bit of a huff. "So that's where it was, Peggy?" Peggy looked sheepishly at her sister's girlfriend.

After tossing it to you, all four of your friends encouraged you to try it on. So you stripped out of your casual clothes and slipped the tight dress over your head and onto your figure. Sweeping your hair to one side of your neck, Maria helped zip up the back. And when you turned to face everyone, their eyes all lit up. "Holy crap, Y/N!" Peggy gasped, dropping the lipsticks she was comparing back into the case, "You look fantastic!" Angelica pulled you in front of the mirror and your heart throbbed in your chest. The fabric was a rich, black velvet that almost looked iridescent when the light hit it just right. The sleeves, off-shoulder, were sheer and went down to the middle of your forearm, ending in a velvet cuff. The neckline was a subtle sweetheart neckline, dipping down to show a modest amount of cleavage. It hugged your waist tight, and flared out just above the curve of your hips, ending just above your knees. It was classy, and beautiful, and you felt a bit like a doll (in the best way possible.) There was no debate that you'd wear that dress, so the sisters ushered you into a seat in front of the vanity and went to work. Angelica and Peggy worked on your face while Eliza and Maria did your hair.

They decided on big voluminous curls to go for a glamorous look, and your hair cascaded down your back beautifully. As to not go too overboard (though you were sure Peggy would have taken it an extra mile if not for Angelica to reel her back in) your makeup consisted of a classy black cat-eye ontop of a matte brown smokey eye. Your lips were painted a nude beige, with a gloss overtop to pull it all together. Each step made the smile grow on your face. You looked more and more stunning until, finally, the transformation was complete and you hardly recognized yourself. You looked like a starlet, a vixen. Eliza insisted you wear her matte Louboutin pumps, but you quickly declined and instead settled for a chunky heeled black bootie that Maria had left in Eliza's room. Angelica let you borrow a dazzling pair of diamond stud earrings. After taking about a thousand pictures of you, they decided it was about time they got ready as well. Your friends, being the naturally exquisite beauties and fashion wizards they were, didn't take half as long as you did to get ready.

Angelica settled for a beige chiffon jumpsuit with a daringly low neckline and a pair of black pumps. Peggy slipped into a turtleneck-crop top with a pair of fashionable high waisted leather shorts over fishnets and black wedged boots. Eliza, per usual, looked very classy in a tight forest green dress that went just past her knees with a pair of Louboutins. Maria was on her arm, in a cream bat-winged blouse tucked into a tight belted skirt and knee high high-heeled boots. You all looked pretty spectacular, even moreso all together. Before you knew it, the doorbell rang, and the party began.

The maids had set out hors d'oeuvres on the dining room table, and various bottles of alcohol lined an entire wall for the use of the guests. It was a bit of a full house, and you were embarrassed to admit that you knew less than half of the people in attendance. You hung close to Peggy's side, dragging her with you to get a drink each time yours ran out. Already 40 minutes in and no site of any of your boyfriends. "Peggy, I d-" you paused, realizing you had lost her. With a heavy sigh, you sauntered over to pour yourself a strong drink and then exited the dining room. You were a little buzzed, and pretty discouraged by the fact that your friends had gone to all this trouble and it seemed like it was all for nothing. The main hall was quiet, devoid of any guests, so you leaned against the rail of the staircase and looked over the grandfather clock as you took a sip of your cocktail.

"My, my," an alluring voice began behind you, and you turned your body towards it. He was a handsome man, a bit older than you, with beautiful brown curls and a confidence in his eyes that made you blush. "It's an injustice that such a beauty be all alone at a party." You smiled politely, standing up straight.

"That's very kind of you to say... I don't think I've had the pleasure of making your acquaintance?" The man charismatically crossed over to you, taking your free hand in his and leaning down to brush a kiss upon your knuckles.

"Oh, my dear, I can confidently say that the pleasure is all mine. Thomas Jefferson, beautiful."

You couldn't help but giggle, partly because you were a little nervous and uncomfortable, but partly because he really was charming. You wondered how quickly the charm would fall away once he learned you were taken? "Nice to meet you, Mr. Jefferson." He was still holding your hand delicately as he straightened up, running his thumb along where he'd kissed, "Thomas, beautiful. And you are?" His eyes were captivating. His full lips, pulled into a sexy grin, were hard not to stare at. Was it the liquor? No... but you bitterly reminded yourself that you wouldn't have been greeted in such a way if your boyfriends had come to spend time with you. "Y/N." You answered sweetly, bringing your glass to your lips to have another sip.

The grandfather clock suddenly boomed out behind you. Startled, you stumbled forward a step, Thomas catching you by the waist to steady you. "Oh god, I'm sorry, thank you!" You gasped out, surprised you hadn't spilled your drink. The clock chimed on the hour, and that meant your boyfriends were an hour late. Thomas chuckled quietly, his hands lingering on your midsection, "It's absolutely no trouble, Y/N. A convenient excuse to," he squeezed at one side of your hips and your chest tightened, "get you in my arms." He was sly, and sexy, and mouth-wateringly suave, but you knew this was wrong. As upset as you were that your boyfriends hadn't shown up, you'd never cheat on them. So, taking a step back, you offered him a sad smile.

"I... Actually, I'm taken. I'm sorry, Thomas." A brow perked, and you could tell this information served as a challenge rather than a roadblock. "I can't say I'm surprised, Y/N. I'm sure every man at this party would love to have you on his arm. Might I ask who the lucky fellow is?" A hand on your back made you flinch, but the calmingly familiar voice that came just after it quelled any fear it brought you. "Fellows, actually."

Alex corrected from behind you. Next to him were your other loves, and your mood skyrocketed. "You guys!" You squeaked gleefully, the wide smile on your face almost hurting your cheeks, "You came! I thought... Well, I guessed you weren't going to show up." Thomas cleared his throat and, with displeasure, he eyed your boyfriends. "Well, beautiful, I can see you're no longer in need of my company. But if things change..." He winked at you, "get my private line from Angelica." Turning on his heel, his hands in his pockets, he whistled as he found his way back into the party.

"Y/N..." Laf breathed out in admiration, eyeing you up and down, "Mon Dieu... You look fantastic, my love!" All four of them took a step back and took in your makeover, some (*cough* Alexander *cough*) a little more lustfully than others. "I uhm..." you began, scanning their faces and then turning your gaze to the grandfather clock, "I wanted to look good for you guys, incase you ended up coming." You noticed John's shoulders slump a bit from the corner of your eye. Herc sighed and took a step towards you, taking one of your hands in both of his. You looked up at him hesitantly.

"I'm really sorry, Y/N. I've been real busy lately, and I feel horrible about not makin' any time for you, for all of us." John rested a hand on Herc's back and patted him comfortingly as he spoke up. "I've been a shitty boyfriend, Y/N, to everyone." He scanned over the four of you, remorse on his face, "I love you all more than anything, and I need to start showing you all more. I'm sorry..."

Alex took the glass from your other hand so he could slip his fingers in between yours and kiss the back of your hand. "You deserve the world, the stars, the sun and the moon and I can't forgive myself for making you feel any less, all of you. From now on, I'll make a change, I swear."

Laf slipped his arms around you from behind and planted a kiss upon the top of your head. "Me as well, my loves. I can't keep spending days at a time without seeing you all. You will always be the most important things in my life. So, mes trésors," He gestured to the other boys, "and ma cherie," he planted a kiss on your cheek, eliciting a giggle from you, "will you please forgive me?" Of course, you forgave each of them with a tight hug and a sweet kiss and they forgave each other.

"Y/N?" You heard Angelica call, the clicking of heels nearing until she turned the corner from the dining room to the front hall. She paused, Eliza behind her, and crossed her arms upon laying her eyes on the boys. "Well well, look who it is! Got my messages, boys?" She teased, though there was a menacing edge to her voice. You laughed and shook your head. "Don't worry, Angelica. We talked it out." You turned to look over your boys, each flashing you a tender smile. Heart warming in your chest, you winked. "They're off the hook, for now."

[solivar]

WIP: Ghost Stories On Route 66

aka the one in which Hanzo is an expatriate art student whose life just got wildly complicated, Jesse is an occasionally leather-clad and frequently beleaguered NPS ranger, weird stuff is going on in the desert south of Santa Fe, and it’s all because I can’t write a plotless porny one-shot to save my life.

Also: this is all @gunnslaughter ‘s fault.

Chapter Two is now complete and I’m going to start posting to AO3 in the interests of making sure nobody misses any important bits.

The first thing he became aware of, once he realized there were things to be aware of, was the voice. It was a beautiful voice, rich and dark and warm, and the mere act of hearing it was the sweetest comfort he’d ever known, better than laying under the  kotatsu on a cold winter evening and watching the snow fall gently over the garden in the deep blue of the twilight, better than the exquisite release of tension as he loosed an arrow on the firing range, better than finding the precise shade of color to fully express the mood he attempting to evoke in his work. It wound around him and through him, buoying up his mind and soul on arms of song, and at that moment he realized the voice was singing, a song whose words he did not know, in a language he did not recognize, but which he understood nonetheless: it was calling him back, and he let it take him, up out of the dark-cold-nothing.

He became aware, next, of the solidity of his own existence, of the flesh and bone, blood and skin, that made up the body in which he lived, and of exactly how much that body hated every single thing about him and itself at that very moment. His head felt fragile, brittle, like an overbaked piece of clay sculpture fresh out of the kiln, waiting for the clumsiest intern in the Fine Arts department to come along and jostle it just hard enough to set off a chain reaction of events that would end in screaming, ambulance sirens, and intravenous sedatives administered en route to a mandatory seventy-two hour psych hold following a spontaneous attempted murder. It wasn’t quite pain so much as the threat of pain, the suggestion that the slightest hint of movement, necessary or otherwise, would result in a physical punishment vastly at odds with the severity of the offense, and so he concluded that holding still was likely the kindest thing he could do for himself. The rest of his body assisted by virtue of feeling as though it were carved from a single slab of lead or osmium or some other incredibly dense substance that would require genuinely heroic human efforts to heft around, thereby fully justifying his decision to behave as a basically sessile mass. Also helpful: the knowledge that something was holding him down. Well, okay, maybe not holding him down in the sense of restraining him from actually doing anything but someone definitely had their hands on him. Pressed to his chest, as a matter of fact -- his bare chest, it felt like, because that was definitely some skin-on-skin warmth transfer happening, callused, long-fingered hands spread across the breadth of his pectoralis major, tips of the thumbs just touching. Someone’s weight was settled firmly astride his hips, a sensation that would have been emphatically erotic under pretty much any other circumstance but at the moment did not seem to carry that connotation and none of the relevant equipment seemed interested in picking it up.

Still. Someone was touching him. He supposed, in a vague and not particularly enthusiastic way, that he should be at least a little bit concerned with that. Not enough to put any effort into stopping it, but enough to actually determine what was going on. That seemed like a reasonable idea. Yes, yes it surely did.

This is going to suck beyond the telling of it. The thought articulated itself verbally from amidst the inchoate mass of hazily good intentions, sending a frisson of dread through the threadbare fabric of his being, the essence of realism making itself felt. Then, before the essence of realism could graduate to the essence of fuck no, don’t do that, you’ll hurt yourself, he opened his eyes.

His eyelids parted with a sensation like silk tearing along a sharply folded seam. Until that moment, he would have sworn that eyelashes did not actually contain any nerve endings; afterwards, he would never again be so certain, because at that instant each one felt as though it were an exquisitely sensitive filament of something extremely fragile that shattered into a million shards of agony as they parted. His eyes watered, uncontrollably, reducing everything to either a dark blur or a bright blur of acid-washed torment as he blinked furiously in an effort to clear them, breath catching in his throat as something, probably a shriek of some variety, tried to claw its way out of his chest. He took a deep, heaving breath and the hands on his chest lifted away, the weight astride him shifted slightly, and sound he realized he’d been hearing all along stopped.

“Hanzo?” He knew that voice -- it sounded like he felt, rough and broken, as though its owner had been talking, or singing, for hours without cease. “Can you hear me?”

He blinked, thrice, and the blur cohered: Ranger McCree, leaning over him, painted knuckles to navel in...tattoos? It couldn’t be tattoos, he’d seen the man’s arms before, the pattern on them a thing of intricate and interlocking geometric forms, there was no way he would have overlooked it. He swallowed, hard, and found his lips and tongue and throat completely unequal to the task of making even the smallest sound.

“Oh, thank all the gods that ever were.” The look that crossed his face was a thing of pure and perfect relief. Hanzo could have sworn there were actual tears in his eyes. “I thought I’d lost you.”

Lost? Moving his jaw set off a warning throb in his temples, the promise of more to come if he wasn’t careful, and he closed his eyes, trying to force the insides of his skull and the current situation to come together in any way that made sense, to no particular avail. One of the strong, warm hands that had until recently been resting on his chest moved up to cup his face gently -- so gently he leaned into it, so warm and so comforting he would have reached up to pull him closer if he could have.

“You need to rest. Really rest. This took a lot out of you and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I never should have taken you with me.” It came out a husky rasp, almost directly against his ear, and both those hands framed his face, warm chapped lips brushed his forehead, and he wanted to ask what there was to be sorry for but already the strength he needed to do so was fading, the weight of physical and mental exhaustion pulling him down into a gray and sensationless place where no pain could reach.

*

When Hanzo finally woke up it was completely and all at once -- admittedly, not an unnatural or even unusual event, considering he was normally the first person up and out on any given day. The strange part was that, for at least the second time in recent memory, he was looking up at a completely unfamiliar ceiling: large wooden beams, carved their lengths with repeating geometric motifs, picked out against the dark wood in vivid red and gold, white and ocher, latillas of paler wood laid perpendicular between each beam. Absolutely not the ceiling in any room of the three bedroom condo he rented with his brother, his brother’s boyfriend, and his brother’s two least objectionable classmates. For a long, long moment, he stared blankly up at it, appreciating the aesthetic qualities, the way the lighter wood of the latillas gave the illusion of the ceiling being higher than it actually was, the way the carvings drew the eye the whole length of the room. Dusky, Santa Fe red walls almost bare of adornment except for a few framed photographs. Three tall, slender windows, not quite floor to ceiling, framed in rough wooden lintels carved and painted in the same patterns as the ceiling supports, exterior shutters closed. The light he was using to see came entirely from the kiva sculpted into the corner nearest where he lay, a low fire burning behind an iron mesh grate. A standing wardrobe, a chest of drawers, a single chest at the foot of the bed, the bedstead itself, all of heavy, dark, old wood.

A bed. He acknowledged to himself that he was laying on a bed, which seemed...strange, for some reason. He couldn’t quite put his finger on why, or why that disquieted him at some level. It wasn’t an uncomfortable bed -- his feet weren’t hanging off the bottom, for example, and from his position in the middle of the mattress, he was in no danger of rolling off either side. Said mattress felt, to him, at least semi-firm, the pillows were several and not yet to the point of being slept flat, the blankets warm and soft and enveloping him completely -- he almost felt as though he’d been tucked in. He shifted slightly, stretching his wonderfully pain-free spine, buried his face in a pillow and the scent that rose from it was cedar-sage-spice and a single blinding instant he remembered where he was if not how he had come to be there and all-but teleported out of Ranger McCree’s bed.

Ranger McCree’s bed.

He was sleeping in his rescuer’s bed.

A frantic look around secured the calming information that he was, in fact, alone. A well-padded chair and footstool sat between the bed and the fireplace, a rumpled blanket and a throw-pillow still providing evidence occupation, though how recently he couldn’t begin to guess. A glance down showed him still dressed in soft-washed comfortable sweats, tee-shirt, socks, so whatever had caused him to be upgraded to the full bedroom accommodations had not, apparently, involved any other upgrades or side-grades or grades that would earn him weeks of helpful suggestions from Genji about what he should have done in this situation on the chance that he made mention of this to his brother, which he absolutely would not, ever. The bedroom door was against his back and, moving slowly and with care, he worked the wrought iron latch and slid it open an inch, to peer out into the hallway. It was, in fact, the same hall that led to the bathroom and the kitchen beyond, walls painted the cheerful yellow that caught and kept the sunlight. In the kitchen, the dishes were done and sitting in the rack to dry, but the quality of the light coming through the windows had changed, reflected rather than direct, much later in the day. He drifted to the arched doorway that separated the kitchen from the room of all purpose and found his host sitting at the dining table, back to him, a map spread out in front of him pinned down at each corner with a basalt block carved in the shape of an owl, a stack of reference texts, two college ruled notebooks, and a package of pens. From the angle of his head and neck, he was examining it; from the angle of his shoulders and his spine, he was not enjoying what he was seeing.

Hanzo took a breath to speak but before he could expel it, someone landed a thunderous knock on the door and a voice, deeper than the ranger’s by a whole octave and twice as raspy announced, “Garden of the Desert, special delivery!”

The eyeroll was clearly audible in the ranger’s voice. “It’s not locked, Gabe!”

“It fucking should be!” The windowless door swung open and a mass of swirling, hissing smoke, curling shadows, flickering dark wings flowed inside, the door slamming firmly shut and all the locks lining it flicking shut behind it. Hanzo retreated a step, two, blinked, and the smoke-shadow-wings resolved into a human shape: a man, tall, broad shoulders and chest only barely disguised by the loose black jacket he wore, silver-dusted black hair and scarred dark skin and eyes that burned darkly crimson in the shadows of his hood. He was, incongruously, carrying a plastic shopping bag that he deposited on the table directly in the middle of the map; the ranger promptly moved it aside. “So distracted that you’re neglecting basic physical security precautions, now? Does this have anything to do with the call I hear you made over to Roadie?”

“I am wearing twelve reasons why anybody who tries to come through that door uninvited is going to have a genuinely bad day.” The ranger replied, tone amused. “And y’all are still too young to be this much of a gossipy old fart.”

“I’m going to parse that out into an overall complement, for your sake.” The newcomer -- Gabe? Gabe with the glowing red eyes? Was Gabe actually a smoke monster? Hanzo had no idea and was too paralyzed with shock and indecision to either guess or scream or retreat -- pulled out a chair and dropped into it. “Spill it, kid. You’ve got six kinds of doom written all over you.”

The ranger -- Jesse, his name is Jesse, you can think his name, it’s Jesse -- scrubbed his hands over his face, shoulders dropping as he did so. “Yes, it’s got something to do with the call I made to Roadie. And the order I just made so -- “

“Custom blended to your precise specifications by Ana’s own hands, new tea bell inclusive. And a fresh bottle of that shampoo Jack makes that you love so much.” Gabe grinned and, for a completely horrifying instant, his mouth stretched entirely too wide and contained far, far too many sharp white teeth to be anything identifiably human. “For the record: Jamie called and asked if I’d be willing to ride shotgun so you can presume I already know about the broken-down car at the outer edge of the Red Zone. So just cut to the chase and tell me how it got there.”

Jesse pushed an object otherwise concealed behind the bulk of his body across the table: the dedicated shot composition camera that usually lived in the pockets of his bookbag. “Art student from the city. Per his testimony on the topic, he left Santa Fe on Friday morning for a day of inspiration-seeking among the ruins in the near vicinity of Shiprock -- both Shiprocks. While he was out there in the desert between the town and Tse Bit’a’í, he started experiencing technical issues with both his gear and his transportation. The GPS unit he was using completely freaked, dragged him somewhere around two hundred miles out into the Red Zone, and then almost back to safety before the car finally gave up and died. He walked, in the middle of the night, up from the edge and knocked on my door.”

“And you, of course, let him in.” Asperity thick enough to taste.

“He made it past the boundary maze.” Jesse replied, irritably. “Nothing purely from Beyond could get through there without -- “

“Without wearing enough stolen human flesh and blood and skin to pass and then come in here and tear your head off.” A hiss. “You are the entire reason I have gray hair right now, kid.”

“So you keep sayin’.” Dryly. “In any case, he did not tear my head off and, after describing the situation to me, I realized that our known zone of disruption is now way further to the west than it was even three months ago -- “

“And that whoever’s supposed to be monitoring the outer ward boundary is half-assing it pretty hard because everything they’re interested in protecting is still under Tse Bit’a’í’s shadow and nobody thought to call you so you could pick up the slack.”

“-- and that it might be developing some explicitly malevolent intent, because it dumped my guest almost on top of a nest of naayéé. An unusually active during the day nest of naayéé. Fortunately it was cold that night or he’d never have made it here otherwise.” He rested his head in his hands and, for an instant, he looked so utterly weary it was all Hanzo could do not to step into the room and try to comfort him. “And, of course, I screwed up at least once myself because when I went to check the car and see if I could avoid calling Roadie and Jamie, I took him with -- “

“Wow.” There was an entire lifetime of unsurprised nonreaction in that syllable.

“And he got a glimpse of one. In the rearview, so it was just the reflection but -- “

“Buuuuuuut it was enough to make you regret not leaving him here. Where he would be safe. Safer than anyplace else for dozens of miles all around.” Hanzo realized, in that instant, that there actually was someone on Earth more lethally sarcastic than his brother and it was sharing the room with him right now. “The next time Jack’s dog has puppies, you’re getting one. Maybe more than one. As an encouragement to stop adopting human strays.”

“Thank you so much for your understanding. I just spent the last...what day is it…?”

“Tuesday.”

“Tuesday!” Hanzo shouted, shocked out of his quiescence.

“I just spent the last three days singing his soul back into his body and then stitching them together again.” Jesse jiggled the bag gently. “Which is why I’m going to need this for him when he wakes up.”

“Oh.” Those burning crimson eyes flicked in his direction. “Well. You might want to see to that as a priority, kid, because he’s standing over there having an out of body experience and possibly a nervous breakdown.”

“Wh -- “ The ranger spun in his seat and locked eyes with him in the motion -- in any other circumstance, the look of dismay that crossed his face might’ve been comical. “Dammit, Gabe.”

“I see that my work here is done.” The smog monster/second most sarcastic human on Earth rose, dropped a fatherly pat on the ranger’s shoulder, and made for the door. “Coming over for fajitas tonight? We’re making enough to feed Reinhardt, so there’ll be plenty for you. And company, if he’s of a mind.”

“We’ll see.” The ranger growled -- really growled, his voice was gravelly enough for it just now -- and rose from his chair, hands outspread as though showing himself unarmed, despite the weapons he still wore, approaching slowly.

Hanzo bumped into the sink counter and realized as he did so that he was retreating, reflexively, that he could feel his pulse pounding in his throat, feel the breath catching in his lungs, his field of vision trying to tunnel at the edges. What he said cannot possibly be true, the calm voice of reason that ever and always sounded like his father murmured soothingly in the back of his mind, because it is impossible. None of this is possible. You are --

“I am totally losing my mind, aren’t I?” Hanzo asked, out loud. “Something really terrible happened to me out in the desert, and you’re just waiting for the ambulance to arrive. Go ahead. You can tell me. I promise I won’t freak out.”

“Something really terrible did happen out in the desert but, all things bein’ equal, it wasn’t as terrible as it could have been and, no, you ain’t losin’ your mind.” Softly, gently, and moving with the sort of slow care you’d use to avoid startling a skittish, injured animal. “And freakin’ out is a perfectly reasonable response, so if you do I promise I won’t hold it against you.”

“Good to know.” A warm, strong hand came to rest in the small of his back and, before he could stop himself, he buried his face in the angle of Jesse’s neck and shoulder and clung as he shivered, convulsively, unable to stop through any desire of his own.

Warm, strong arms closed around him, carefully, holding him closely enough to offer comfort and support, loosely enough not to tip what was threatening to become a genuine panic attack over the edge, a pretty neat trick the still-rational part of his mind was forced to admit. The hand not anchored to the base of his spine caressed his back in long, slow strokes and came to rest in his hair as the frantic pace of his breath finally moderated itself. The not-at-all-rational part of his mind wondered what that would feel like without the impediment of clothing and that was all he needed to find the strength to step back, to bring himself back under control. Jesse, taking the cue from him, let him go.

“What happened to me?” Hanzo asked, catching his rescuer’s dark eyes and holding them.

And, to give him the credit he deserved, he didn’t look away. “The naayéé are...not of this world. Never have been, never will be, but sometimes they find their way here, one way or another. The ones you saw the other day are particularly unpleasant to encounter because of the effect they generally have on people. They’re predators. Lazy-ass predators, actually, that mostly like it dark and mostly like it hot and they generally don’t come out in the daylight or the cold, so I really didn’t think we’d see any of them but…” He gestured helplessly. “Yeah. Again, I’m sorry. I didn’t want any of this to happen to you, it was completely my fuckup and -- “

“Jesse.” Hanzo interjected, with what he felt was admirable calm. “What happened to me?”

“They tried to eat your soul.” Jesse replied and immediately took a step towards him and rested a comforting hand on his arm. “Yanked it out through the sympathetic connection forged by the reflection you shared for a minute but I stopped things before it could get any further than that. It just took a while to coax your body and spirit back together -- you were in a couple different kinds of shock and it took some time to convince you that I wasn’t going to hurt you, too. Which was perfectly understandable given the circumstances.”

“I...see.” The still-rational part of his mind was screeching in high-pitched distress; the rest, however, was finally achieving an inner state of equilibrium that permitted him to hear and process this information without falling into any further pieces. “So I am...outside my body now. As your friend said.”

“Yes and I apologize, again. Gabe is pretty much made entirely out of antisocial tendencies at this point in his existence.” The comforting hand came to rest in the small of his back again. “We should probably put you back.”

“How can you be touching me if I’m not in my body?” Hanzo asked but nonetheless permitted himself to be guided down the now quite dark hallway.

“Circumstances have required me to master a number of fairly esoteric and nonstandard survival skills over the years.” Again, oh so very dryly as he opened the bedroom door.

“That’s not -- oh. Oh my.”

His body was, in fact, still laying in the bed, chest rising and falling in the slow, steady rhythm of sleep, hair spread almost artfully across one of the pillows, the firelight casting the planes of his face in coppery light and shadow. He blinked and took a deep breath and with a sudden, vertiginous wrench his perspective shifted and he was laying on his back in pillows and blankets and staring up at a carved and painted ceiling. With a certain amount of effort -- his thoughts felt laggy, like medicine head to a degree previously unheard of by modern science, and it took some time to convince his limbs to cooperate with one another -- he managed a sitting position against the headboard. Jesse sat on the edge of the bed and poured him a glass of water from the carafe sitting on the bedside table, which he consumed in a three swallows, and a second, which he drank more slowly.

His voice, when he spoke, was rusty with disuse. “It’s really Tuesday?”

“Tuesday afternoon. Almost evening, actually.” Jesse replied and offered another glass of water.

“I missed class. More than one class. I never miss class. I’ve got a midterm paper due tomorrow and two exams next week. My brother might actually be worried about me by now.” He accepted the glass and sipped at it slowly. “Something from another world just tried to eat my soul.”

“It’s a lot to take in.” Ranger McTalentForUnderstatement admitted, looking anywhere but at him, Hanzo noticed and, not for the first time, regretted that he’d let Hana talk him into that particular haircut, though he couldn’t really blame her for the piercings. “If you want, I’ll drive you home tonight -- I’ve got a call in to a local mechanic with the equipment required to retrieve your car -- “

“Roadie?” Hanzo asked, because asking questions and receiving answers made the whole situation feel at least slightly more real.

“Roadhog. It’s his nickname, real name’s Mako, but he likes to say he’s wanted in too many places to go by it.” Jesse glanced at him, grinned, looked away again. “He and his partner Jamie run a salvage and rebuilding operation off the highway about twelve miles north of here. They do most of the work that keeps my little fleet of gas-drinkers functional. They can certainly get your car back and probably in working order without too much trouble, so long as Jamie knows beforehand not to make too many...alterations.”

“I’m not certain I could afford that.” Hanzo replied carefully. “I was supposed to have it back on Sunday and I can just imagine what kind of fees -- “

“Don’t worry about affordin’ it.” In the sort of tone that didn’t really brook anything in the way of argument. “Are you hungry?”

His stomach was knotted entirely too tight to even consider the concept of food. “Not really, no. I just...would like to go home.”

“Of course.” Jesse rose and offered his hand; Hanzo accepted it, because his prevailing state of awkward and uncoordinated made getting out from under the covers and to the side of the bed more of an adventure than it should have been.

Getting to his feet was likewise a thing of extraordinary gracelessness and, for a horrifying moment, he felt like a newborn giraffe with legs too long and too ungainly to be real that also happened to be coming into the world on the deck of a ship about to sink into heaving, churning seas. He clung again, as the floor tried to tip sideways and knock him over, and his host submitted to the indignity with kindness and patience.

“I think maybe you ought to keep the sweats for now, just to make this as painless as possible.” Jesse suggested, a hint of humor with no trace of mockery in his eyes. “Let’s get you to the living room and I’ll bring the Jeep up.”

Walking got progressively easier the more he did it and so, while his host was out bringing around the vehicle, Hanzo tottered around the room gathering his things together: the plastic bag went in the bookbag, the folded stack of clothes went on top of that, Jesse’s gloves came out of his jacket pocket, and his jacket went on his body. The Jeep, as it turned out, was an actual, modern hover-vehicle painted NPS white with the green stripe and shields. On the way out of town, north on the unnamed, unmarked road that was once Highway 14, he pointed out the sights -- the town itself was once a more frequently sought-out tourist attraction, was still a national historic site, and had the cluster of carefully preserved mercantile buildings, saloons, even an old church, to prove it, along with younger, but equally abandoned, structures clustered around the edge of town, only a handful of which were still occupied. That handful consisted entirely of the Garden of the Desert, a compound of four greenhouses and a sprawling two-story Pueblo Revival hacienda, fully enclosed behind an adobe-and-fieldstone wall, the name of the place spelled out in jewel-bright mosaic on the arch over the main entry gate.

“Jack and Gabe and their gradually expanding pack of mostly-tame hellhounds call that place home. It’s pretty nice, actually. Gabe’s antisocial tendencies don’t influence his interior decorating decisions.” A pause. “Well, okay, they don’t influence them much. And he’s a damn fine cook, all other considerations aside. They both tend the greenhouses, though Jack and Ana -- that’s the neighbor up the valley, lives in the hills with her husband, Reinhardt -- do most of the alchemy, for want of a better term.”

Hanzo thought of unnaturally willful smoke and curls of shadow and far too many sharp, white teeth and the question was out of his mouth before he could stop it. “Gabe isn’t...completely human, is he?”

Jesse glanced sidelong at him and was silent for a long moment. “I wondered if you saw that while you were…” Another, longer silence. “That’s...kinda not my story to tell. I can say, with total confidence and all joking aside, that I would trust him with my life, and a lot of other people’s lives beside. But, no, he ain’t. Neither is Jack, he just wears it better. If you’re ever in a position where you need help -- like the kind of help you got from me, but I’m not available, there’s nobody better to call upon, and that’s a promise.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Hanzo found a smile actually crawling onto his face and he let it stay. “So the...blend...you got from them -- it’s some kind of medicine?”

“Yes. The kind of injury you’ve suffered is tricky to heal -- your body and your soul have to grow back together and, right now, you’re vulnerable to...relapse is such a stupid word here but...that’s kinda what it is. Your spirit’s still only lightly tethered to your body. Your body’s vulnerable without your spirit in it. All of you is more susceptible to weirdness in your sleep, as we just saw.” They reached the junction with the actual charted highway, traffic coming and going in each direction. “You should take that once a night, just before bed, for seven days. It’ll help strengthen the bonds, heal the spiritual wounds, make you...not forget, exactly, but make the memory less of a scar.”

“That’s good, because I would prefer not to forget.” Hanzo, greatly daring, rested a hand on Jesse’s shoulder, lightly, and snatched it back. “You saved my life, and for that I’m grateful.”

“I -- “

“Quiet.” Hanzo smiled ruthlessly. “You saved my life, and I do not want to forget that, or you.”

“It’s probably for the best if you did.” They were, Hanzo realized, approaching roads, and landmarks, that were thoroughly familiar now. “I can’t order you to stay away from the desert down south but, for your own safety, you should absolutely do so. Something out there decided you were interesting enough to mess with personally -- something out there might’a gotten a taste of you and might’a liked it and that? That’s dangerous, more dangerous than I can probably make you appreciate just now.” Softly. “I don’t want anything worse to happen to you, Hanzo. Please don’t invite it in the front door.”

“I will try not to do so.” His temporary home loomed out of the twilight -- for an instant, it was on the tip of his tongue to ask how Jesse knew the address, realized he’d probably gotten it from his driver’s license, and struggled to find something else to say as they pulled up to the curb. “Where -- where would you suggest I go, then?”

“Black Mesa’s one of the most beautiful places there is -- and the mountains north of Los Alamos, particularly at this time of year.” Jesse reached over and unlocked the doors, activated the hazard lights and, before Hanzo could fully process what he was doing, got out and opened his door for him. “Promise me you’ll take care of yourself.”

“I promise.” Hanzo hefted his bag over his shoulder and stood clear of the door. “And I will take your advice to heart, as well.”

“If you’re still not feeling a hundred percent after the week is out, call me.” Jesse pressed something into his hand as they walked to the door of the condo together. “I’ll do whatever I can to help, that’s my promise.”

“Thank you again.” Hanzo paused with his hand on the exterior identification lock. “Would you...like to come in? For coffee?”

“I’d best be gettin’ back, but thank you kindly for the offer.” He tipped his hat, and Hanzo’s knees tried their hardest to transform into bendy gelatin again, successfully enough that it was all he could do to stand and watch as he walked back to the Jeep and pulled away.

He was, in fact, still standing there holding onto the lockbox when the front door flew open behind him, a shadow fell over him, and his brother demanded, in a voice that promised something immediate and horrific for someone if he didn’t like what he heard, “Where. The actual fuck. Have you been?”