#meanwhile this fucking guy is just. so *happy* to talk about his funky little true crime interest

[metamatronic]

Can we have Phone Dude content, pretty please?

this is it. this is the entire AU.

[shipyard98]

“The Cigarette Book” - Chapter 4: Neon Moon (Josuke’s Story)

Fandom: Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure

Pairing: Josuke Higashikata x Reader

Word Count: 1926

Rating: T for Teen (swearing and alcohol usage)

Summary:  You're about to go out in the world and pursue your dreams. That means leaving Josuke Higashikata, your beloved boyfriend, behind in Morioh. Despite it all, he seems to be taking it well during the last date you two will be having in a while. He seems to be taking it almost too well...

Author’s Note: Heyo! I just made a Ko-Fi page! If you feel like supporting me and my works, feel free to buy me a Ko-Fi! It’s not necessary, but it does help. Anywho, onto the story!

(link to story)

The summer sun made a faint glow as it set over the horizon. It made the hills and trees of rural Morioh to cast shadows wherever it could reach. Stars peeked through the veil of twilight, just barely visible next to the full moon.

It was the perfect night to be out.

Your eyes darted from left to right along the railroad tracks. Nothing was coming from either side, and no train whistle could be heard for miles.

Quickly, you skipped over the tracks and made your way towards the run-down bar ahead of you.

It was one of those old-fashioned places, with cracks forming in the outer wall and a big neon sign hanging on the front of the building. The sign spelled out “Neon Moon” in big bold letters. Meanwhile, it made a soft buzzing nose every time the light flickered, like it was threatening to switch off at any second.

Your arms reached forward and pushed the door to the bar open.

A quick look around told you everything.

The place wasn’t too popular, but there were plenty of patrons around the bar this evening. Some sat in the bar stools, chattering with each other over large glasses of spirits. Some took to the dance floor and rocked with each other while the small band on the low stage played a funky number. And then some were sitting at the tables, either all alone or with a date.

One lone person at these tables stood out to you. How could he not stand out, with his push-pin pompadour and his piercing blue eyes that shined as soon as they laid their focus on you.

This guy stood up and made a beeline towards you, shoving past a few people in an impatient rush. Of course, he was apologizing as he shoved past the other patrons, but only halfheartedly. He just wanted to get to you.

“Babe!” he bubbled out the minute he threw his arms around you. “You came!”

“Of course, I came, Josuke,” you giggled into his chest. “Why would I not come to see you tonight?”

“I got worried that you might’ve left early or something,” he said as he rubbed at the back of his neck. “If that ended up being the case, I would’ve dashed to the airport in a heartbeat. Like one of those super cheesy romance movies, you know?”

You craned your neck up and gave Josuke what was intended to be a peck on the lips. He smiled and let himself melt into your kiss, turning the peck into a near make-out right there at the entrance of the bar.

Judging by the taste on his tongue, you knew he had started drinking before you got there.

“C’mon,” he took you by the hand. “Let’s talk for a bit, huh?”

It was a blessing that Josuke was taking the lead, as he was a bit of a gentle bulldozer. He could easily push past the small crowd, but he was still apologizing left and right as he did so. The whole time, though, he didn’t let go of your hand. Holding your hand had to be one of his all-time favorite things to do, after all.

He had to let go of your hand the minute you reached the table he was sitting at.

As soon as you sat down, you noticed that there were quite a few empty glasses on the table. It made you kind of sit back and stare in awe at your boyfriend. You knew he was soft hearted and somewhat of a “diamond in the rough”, but you never thought for a second that his alcohol tolerance would be that high. He was gracious enough, however, to leave you a glass of your go-to alcohol in front of you.

He plopped down in the seat across from you and took a hold of the only other full glass on the table.

“Might as well do a toast, right?” he declared. “Well, here’s to you! Here’s to a bright future up ahead! May your endeavors be fruitful and all that jazz.”

He obviously wasn’t too good at making toasts, but the effort was enough to get you to smile. You brought up your glass and clinked it against his.

While you just took a sip of your drink, Josuke downed his in one fell swoop.

Watching him power through his drink, it dawned on you that he never drank that much. You had been on a few dates with him to the Neon Moon, and every time, it would end up with lusty, make-outs and going back to somebody’s place for a night of private fun. In all of those dates, never had you seen him drink like that. As a matter of fact, you were both usually pretty sober at the end of those dates.

Something was wrong here.

A blush spread across Josuke’s cheeks, and he chuckled a little to himself before continuing.

“Yep, you’re gonna be out there, making a name for yourself. You’re gonna go out there, leave this little town behind, and become a shining, sparkling diamond amongst pebbles. Just like you were destined to. Finding things that are greater than here. Greater than m-.”

You put your glass down.

“Josuke, are you okay?”

“Am I okay?” He put his glass down next to the other three empty glasses on the table. “Psssh, of course I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be okay? I think the alcohol’s gone to my head a little, but it’s not a big deal.”

“You’ve never let the alcohol get to your head. You’re acting really funny, and I’m worried about you. Please, babe, tell me what’s wrong.”

He stared at you for what felt like an eternity. There were sounds coming from every direction, but none from him. If you looked hard enough, you probably would’ve noticed that his lower lip was trembling a little bit.

“Josuke?”

Tears streamed down his face like a waterfall. His face contorted into a deep, sorrowful expression and he

“I can’t keep it down anymore,” he sobbed. “I’m sorry, babe. I’m so fucking sorry.”

He lurched forward with his face in his hands and he wept like a baby.

You started to get up so you could go around and comfort him, but he whipped his head back up to look you in the eyes before you had a chance to.

“I know I should be happy for you.” He choked between his sobs. “I really, REALLY should be happy for you. You’re going to go do something you’ve always wanted to do, and I just want you to be happy. But in all honesty, I’m scared. I’m so damn scared that you’re just going to leave me here and never ever come back. I mean, you know that I’m a true love kind of guy, so I don’t fall in love all that often. You’re the first person I’ve ever really fallen in love with, you know? But now that I’ve fallen, I don’t… I don’t want to lose it. Without you here, I’m just going to sit here alone and think of you, and spend every night doing just that.”

You reached over and patted him on the hand.

“Hey, hey,” you cooed at him. “It’s going to be okay. There’s nobody in the world that could replace you, and that’s how it’s going to stay. Besides, I’ll come back one day.”

“One day may be never! One day, you might decide that you don’t want to be with someone like me.”

“Don’t say that!” you grabbed his hand with both of yours. “You have my heart forever and always.”

“… I do?”

“Yes, of course, you do.”

He wiped the tears off his face with his free hand.

“If that’s true, then…” He bit his lip in that way he always did when he was unsure about something. “Do you think you could make me a promise?”

“What’s the promise?”

Without letting his hand free of yours, he got up out of his chair and reached into his coat pocket.

“I was planning on being a little sober for this, but I got super nervous all of a sudden. But I have a clear mind when I ask…”

He dropped down on one knee.

Out of his pocket came a little golden ring, endowed with a few small but sparkling diamonds. He held it up lose to your hands.

“Will you marry me?”

One of your hands flew up to your mouth in surprise. The beat of your heart was like that of a marching band drum, and a flurry of different thoughts and emotions flashed in your head.

“I mean, we don’t have to get married right this minute, but when you get back, you know? Ever since we started dating, I kept thinking about making you my wife. How we could get out of here and move to a bigger city. Maybe start a family or something, but that’s just me daydreaming. Look, I’d give you the whole world if I could, and--!”

You dropped down and wrapped your arms around him, burying your face into his chest again. His shirt was very quickly soaked by your own tears. All he could do was sit there in a shocked silence, his mouth hanging agape.

“Yes… Yes, of course, I’ll marry you,” your muffled voice swooned.

Josuke snapped out of his dazed confusion and grabbed you by the shoulders so he could look you in the eye.

“You… You mean that?!”

The huge smile on your face and the nod of your head were indicator enough for him that you were completely serious.

“When I come back next spring, I'll bring you with me. We can live together and do all those things you dreamed of doing.”

He slipped the ring on your finger and quickly pulled you into a deep kiss. You accepted it and kissed back with a greater passion than ever. Some of the nearby patrons who had been looking on applauded the engagement.

“Hey fellas!” one of the patrons called to the band. “Why don’t we get some slow dance music for these two?”

The guy with the bass guitar nodded, and with a silent count off, they played a soft, slow beat.

Some of the couples already assumed position and danced with each other to the steady beat of the music. Even the lights dimmed so that people were just dancing amongst a blur of shadows.

Flattered by the Neon Moon’s kind gesture, you both stood up hand in hand and made your way over to the dancefloor.

The patrons parted way for you and your boyfriend, making a circle around you.

Josuke held you close to him as you both swayed to the beat of the music. Your head rested against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his proud and swelling heart.

The two young lovers were free of the rest of the world for a little bit. There was nowhere to be, nothing to fight for, nobody who could stand in between you. It was just him and you in that little, run-down corner of the world, dancing to the dreamy music that floated in the air and between bodies.

For a second, you looked up at him, your eyes half-lidded but sparkling.

“How’re you feeling now?” you mumbled.

He looked down at you and smiled hazily.

“I think I’m going to be alright, as long as there’s light from the Neon Moon.”

[tellywoodtrash]

sanjivani 12.08.19 lb

gratuitous mumbai shots. cut to idyllic camping scene somewhere in the hills.

dr. sid instantly established as fuckboi. can't remember what current female company's name is and is trying out all the First World Yoga Names (h/t @theincorrigiblemagpie)

there's something about namit's face that bothers me. it's a veryyyyy fuckboy type face. i just cannot trust it. hopefully the character will grow on me and i'll be able to get over it.

cute shenanigans turning to tragedy. sigh, already? we are literally only 1 minute and 7 seconds in.

LMAO WHAT???????? he didn't hear all the screaming, but saw the reflection of the kid drowning in her aviators instead????? HOW'S THAT EVEN POSSIBLE WHEN THEY'RE HIGH UP AND THE KID IS AT LEAST A 100 - 200 M LOWER???

"sorry babes. duty calls."

ofc. a true spiritual successor to armaan, this one.

oh ho ab bacha bhi lo. ainvayi suspense ke chakkar mein footage khaana.

standard uparwaale ka disdain by neechewaala doctor.

why won't he bloody identify himself as a doctor before taking out a swiss knife to slice into the kid?????

handy bottle of booze lying around for sterilization.

HE HAS HAD A SOLIDDDDDD FEW MINUTES DURING THESE SHENANIGANS TO TELL THESE PPL HE'S A DOCTOR AND NOT JUST A PSYCHOPATH HACKING INTO THE KIDS NECK AND SHOVING HIS GIRLFRIEND'S NECKLACE INTO IT, BUT NOPE.......

don't like his dialogue delivery. very stilted.

swelling music and slo-mo as he states his credo: JUGAAD!

"saab kahan le jaa rahe ho mere bachche ko?"

"jahaan logon ki jaan uparwaala nahi, neechewaala bachaata hai; jahaan har ek jaan keemti hai; SANJIVANI!!!"

lmaooooooooo i can't.

also lol, niceeeely got out of having to remember side-piece's name this way.

hey girl.

let's see how long this bright-eyed, bushy-tailed enthusiasm of yours lasts.......

ok the mom won't stop screaming and it's Too Much.

ok this guy's every other dialogue is like right out of those cheesyass motivational insta posts. i don't think i'll be able to watch this show if this is how it's written.

funky hanuman sculpture.

ok kuch zyaada ho raha hai.

ouffffffffff. first instance of contact itself a goddamn confrontation.

ladki chalti phirti diagnostic lab hai. and apparently carries around bars of chocolate in case of emergencies, like professor lupin.

haryanvi girl is talking too fast and i cannot catch 70% of what she's saying.

they seem to be strangers but are toooooo familiar with each other? who talks to someone they just met like this???

yeah, i don't think i can watch this show regularly. veryyyyy annoying writing. it’s really getting to me.

henloooooooooooo dr. shashank.

ohhhhhhh boy. looks like mohnish bahl has already written in his exit clause.

ominous music, Those Glasses, and the passive aggressiveness towards a man who's clearly not feeling well, tell us ki yeh insaan kaafi kameena hai.

"post chod raha hoon. sanjivani nahi. yahin rahoonga, aapke saath."

yeah let's see for how long........

oversmart jugaadu is reciting dr. shashank's speech from memory, while ishani toh looks like she might pass out from giddiness and admiration.

helllllllllllllo anjali! (the only character i'm really interested in tbh.)

"aaj toh koi operation scheduled nahi tha."

uhhhhhhh.... kinda hard to believe there'd be NO SURGERIES WHATSOEVER in a hugeass multi-speciality hospital like this on any given day? also, emergency cases like this can come up?

ouff overly emotional scene.

god, fuck this guy. i already hate him to bits. as an mba myself, i swear to god that mba types should never be put in charge of a hospital (or anything that’s a venture that values something else over bottom line.) 

meanwhile dr. shashank is lecturing over here that they’ve kept sanjivani from being a commercialized business. lmao ok sir, pls look around this hospital of yours and tell me you actually believe this tripe you're spouting.

haan i was waiting for the chopper fees to come up. coz that shit was notttttttttt about to slide, as dr. fuckboy had hoped. woh toh kuch zyaada hi tha.

LMAO WHAT, THIS HOSPITAL IS RUN THANKS TO GOVT FUNDING AND DONATIONS?????????????? THIS HOSPITAL, THE SWANKIEST EVER??????? SURE.

also vardhan said this was a private hospital? oprahwhatisthetruth.gif

oh ho, sid has some well-known scam running, through which he funds these surgeries, but vardhan just can't seem to prove it. the slightest of respect for rebellious fuckboy.

this overwrought maaii is grating on my nerves. someone tell her to dial it down.

this one is just a little toooooooo confident with her intrusive questions.

ohhhhhhhhhhh boy. anjali had hoped to be chief of surgery. and is most likely not going to get it.

this creep needs to stay away from my girl.

not a fan of these gendered stethoscopes.

sure. how ALL of us gals hang out in hospital meeting rooms.

oh, happy birthday ishani.

mamaji has called to remind about not eating non-veg on poornima instead of wishing birthday though. and to remind to tell no one about her surname.

what's the whole deal with her surname though? so are we to take the arora as fake?

asha's the sapna of this show. very specific regional identity, bubbly, friendly supporting role. i already like her more than the leads (as was the case with sapna too. @ me but sapna and atul were most lovable!)

ok ishani is QUITE unlikable. itnaaaaaaa bhi hyper hone ki zaroorat nahi hai sis.

why was she just sauntering around, and just swooping into whatever case is in front of her? doesn't she have some kinda orientation or something to attend? aise hi khula chod diya hai in naye doctors ko?

also why did this first year resident have to come and take things over? why's that other doctor standing around clueless about the existence of hypothermia and how to treat it?????

lo ji. dr. awesome ne bacha hi liya. to the point the nurses are like waah waah, aap kitniiiiii sahi thi!

and this doctor who's her senior too.

oh god, wohi insta post waala gyaan yeh bhi pel rahi hai. ouff.

what this dude's name, anyway??? he’s more my type than dr. fuckboy. 

oh so this is (part of??) his scam. selling unnecessary elective plastic surgery to women, playing on their insecurities. not misogynist atttttttttt all.

ouffffffff.

yeh kyaaaaaa faltoo aurat hai??????? she's super fucking annoying. it's literally your first hour in the place and you're already being such a damn pain in the ass to your SENIORS????? TO THE POINT WHERE YOU’RE PHYSICALLY ACCOSTING THEM???????

yeah i hate both of them.

———————————————————————

kal aur bhi ainvayi ka unpleasant khit-pit. i don't care.

oh shit dr. shashank has brain tumour. dr. juhi being called into service.

[mademoiselleseraph]

12th Perigee's Eve with Some Minor Celebrities

A very belated secret santa gift for the @hiveswapsecretsanta2018 and @the-bisexual-dumpster about Charun, Chixie, and Cirava spending the holiday together and being best buds

~~~

Charun was running late, but when weren’t they running late? They supposed it was a small price to pay for looking nice.  They knew looking nice for them meant looking like a disaster to others but it was typical for -- what did people call them? -- oh yeah, avant garde types.  They were so avant garde. The avant-est of garde. Yeah.

They had already combed their hair (just to muss it up just right), brushed their teeth (doing what they could to dull their fangs), and washed their face (and applied some blood based paint to the sides of their mouth and one of their temples).  Next step was to say goodbye. They patted the shell of their lion-faced snail lusus, Speedy, promising to be safe. Then they went to the ventriloquist dummy they found one day and had a strange attachment to though they could not, for the life of them, remember where it came from or when they first saw it, let alone what species it was supposed to portray.  Some kind of demon thing? Maybe. They gave it a strong hug and gently placed it back down on the floor. Finally, they went to the wall.

The dummy always gave Charun what a friend of theirs would describe as “weird fucking vibes, man lmao.”  Looking at its glassy eyes and painted smile unsettled them. It gave them a jittery giddiness for pain and destruction that itched and disoriented.  There was a wall in the cave that had the opposite effect. The words scrawled all about in various shades of blood had a somber, melancholy look, but filled them with hope.  They ran a finger under the words where they seemed to start.

“Let it be known before all else,” it read, “that there is no sin in wanting to live.  Second, that to help instead of harm one’s fellow troll is nobler by far. Third, that worth and character cannot be determined by blood.”

And it went on.  Their favorite part of it was the tale of Twelfth Perigee’s eve.  This figure and his group traveled by day as often as they could, shielding themselves from the harsh sun with parasols, cloaks, and scarves.  But the Twelfth Perigee was the darkest of all perigees, and one could could walk freely without fear of burning on that one day. They celebrated the ease of their burden, baking sweet cakes for the orphans and sharing cordial among the adults.

And then they remembered the sweet cakes.  They had baked them in a fit of inspiration from the ancient scribblings to take to their friends for their Twelfth Perigee’s Eve get-together.  Oh right, they were really quite late now. They put the still warm cakes into an insulated bag, and then into another insulated bag to be sure they were kept warm, and then in a basket for that rustic charm.  They slipped on a coat, shaped to look like it had odd growths under the material and decorated with scrap metal, and headed out.

Meanwhile, Chixie was worried.  She was often worried due to various factors, mostly having to do with cameras and what they would capture and what others would do with it.  But it wasn’t entirely about that this time.

Her worrying was a major reason her friends agreed to meet at her place for Perigee’s Eve.  That way no one would catch her walking to anyone’s hive and start rumors that would convince her more powerful and more obsessive fans to take out the competition in gruesome ways.  Would that happen? No way to say for sure, but she’d rather stay on the safe side.

It must have been around the fifth time she looked out the window in the span of twenty minutes when Cirava called to her from the couch.

“Chix, I’m gonna need you to calm down,” they said.  “This isn’t the first time they’ve run late and it won’t be the last.”

“I know,” she replied in as un-snippity a manner as she could.  “but it’s been a while since you got here and you never know what kind of creeps are out there or what they’re seeing or what they’re saying.”

“Are people really watching your hive to see who comes and goes?”

“It’s not like I’m that hard to track down and it’s not exactly difficult to get into the bronze side of town.”  Her breathing quickened and her face contorted in panic as she continued: “And you know whatever they write about me, he’s gonna see it, and --”

“Chixie!”  They clamped a hand on her shoulder, trying to snap her out of it.  “This is ultimately your place so you’re gonna do what you’re gonna do.  But when you get worked up like this, you get agitated, then bitter, then hopeless, and that’s about when you tend to hit the bottle.”

Her shoulders drooped and she sank into the couch under their arm and squeezed the hand still holding her shoulder.  They were a wispy thing and by all logic their bony limbs should have hurt to be held in, but nothing could make anyone feel safer.

“I don’t mean to cross any bounds by sounding all conciliatory and shit,” they continued, “but you said you were tryna cut back, so I figured we should at least wait til Charun gets here.”

“You’re not crossing anything,” she insisted, hugging them back.  “I know you’re not meaning it like that, and I appreciate you trying to help.”

“While we’re at it maybe we could not talk about him today?  Whenever he gets brought up, you seem to feel worse, and I know I don’t have any fond memories of the guy.”

“Yeah.  I could use a break from even thinking about him.  When do you think Charun will get here?”

And just then there was a knock at the door.  Speak of the devil.

Chixie opened the door and drew Charun into a warm hug.

“I know I’m late...” they mumbled.  An unfinished thought, but soon to come again.

“Oh, we’re just happy your safe!” Chixie chirped.

“You had her worried sick, dumbass,” Cirava joked.

“...but I brought food,” they concluded, holding up the basket.  “Cakes for everyone.”

Cirava took the basket to the table and opened the insulated bags.

The lovely smell hit Chixie’s nose instantly.  “Chocolate?”

“And raspberry!” Cirava murmured, mouth already full of a bite.

“Glad you like ‘em...” Charun droned on.  “Made plenty…. Have ‘smany as you’d like….”

They tactfully did not mention the lack of cordial in respect for Chixie’s little problem, or the fact the inspiration came from a wall someone had written on in blood.

They talked fans, making sure to exclude him as promised, and the pressure of fame, and lusii of course.  They were still young after all. Eventually they stumbled on the subject of Chixie’s lovely home and decorating.

“Yeah, I normally don’t get too festive,” she admitted, “but I wanted to go all out for you two.”

“It’s….” Charun mumbled.

“Bitchin’,” Cirava stated.

“....Pretty,” Charun concluded.

She swelled with pride, took a deep breath, and let herself process that pride.  “Yeah, it’s not too shabby,” she said. “Actually, I think I did a great job!” It felt good.  It felt true.  None of that coy oh, you bullshit or false modesty.  She didn’t have to pretend around them because they knew it too.

Her hive really was decked to the nines.  Tinsel garlands, evergreen wreaths, the bones on the mantle, a roaring fire, candles, and of course the behemoth leaving with its own decorations.

“Why is that even a thing?” Cirava asked, gesturing to it.  “Like how did that start? It’s not entirely sanitary.”

“Oh, I know this one!” Chixie said.  “It’s excellent fertilizer. It used to be that you’d keep it in the hive so no one could steal it, and you’d put it on your crops through the planting season and they’d grow like crazy.  The decorations started with cloves and evergreen twigs to make it smell better.”

“And the bones…” added Charun, “...were good for crops too…. But also… after you suck the marrow out… you can string ‘em up like windchimes….  Scares off some aggressive species... if you live out in the middle of nowhere….”

“Speaking of aggressive species,” Cirava noted, setting up their husktop, “you guys wanna shout out to my fans with me?”

The others agreed and sat on either side of them as they got the microphone ready, put on their camera face, and hit record.

“Hey all you funky little weirdos.  I’m taking a break from streaming to spend the holiday with some dear friends, but I’ll be back the day after tomorrow.  Thank you so much for all the love and support, and I’ll be sure to link in the description where you can listen to some of my fresh beats til I get back.  But hey, from me and mine to you and yours--”

And then they all said, more or less in unison, “Happy Eve!” and waved at the camera. Cirava shut it off and posted the video to their chittr and other social media accounts, then put the husktop away.

And with that out of the way, and some touches of worry as to what her fans would make of it, Chixie decided it was best to break out the punch.  She made it in advance and left it to chill and had completely forgotten it. That must have been Cirava’s doing, she realized, keeping her mind on other things and away from the drink.  Though she restrained herself and made it significantly less boozy than she usually did, and apologized if that made it taste funny.

“Actually,” said Charun, “I think it’s… better.”

And she flashed a quick but genuine thank-you smile.  She never really drank it for the taste before.

And they went on like that.  Cirava and Charun passed a pipe between them, offering to Chixie.  She only took one hit, not wanting to dry out her throat. Cirava, on the other hand, blew all manner smoke rings and swished their hand in the smoke to make blurry semblances of shapes.  Charun tried to trace abstract outlines of them with their own finger. Something about it gave Chixie a cheery sense of ease that was quite rare to her. She asked Cirava if the case for their husktop was soundproof, which they confirmed, and she suggested they all put their palm husks in with it.

“So….  What was that about?” asked Charun.Chixie had the beginnings of a mischievous little smirk at the corners of her mouth and replied, “How about singing some carols?”

“Um, are you out of your gourd?” Cirava shot back.

“I already plugged the TV and anything else that might be bugged.  And besides, what’s Twelfth Perigee’s Eve without a little illegal activity?”

“We should steal…” Charun trailed off, “from highbloods!  And leave shit… on their lawnrings.”

And after some scared looks from their companions, they took it back.

“Nah…. You’re right… that’s a death sentence…. Let’s just sing some songs.”

Chixie started with the old familiar melody:

“Oh, merry moon

Lend me your tune

For on my pipes to play”

And then Charun in a surprisingly graceful baritone voice:

“And may the lonesome

Find a home

On this most holy darkest day”

And they both looked to Cirava waiting for them to join.  Eventually they caved.

“They killed him

And they cursed him

But it’s said he’ll come again”

And all of them in unison:

“So merry moon

Lend me your tune

To welcome an old friend”

And they sang songs about respite and recovery and joy to be found among friends and a fruitful new sweep with burdens lifted.  Songs that were outlawed and had to be sung in complete secrecy for fear that they could start a riot. Songs that made one feel like an honest rebel just for singing.  Man, Twelfth Perigee’s Eve carols are hardcore! Well, maybe not outside of that context.

And hours stretched on and on and the three friends drew closer until crammed together on a single couch cushion.  The smiles were genuine and the hands gestured naturally as they spoke about what happened sweeps ago and what might in the sweeps from then.

The softest, weakest bits of sunlight slipped in through the shades as dawn broke, getting a gasp out of Chixie.

“I didn’t mean to keep you out so late!” she apologized.  The light was dim enough to walk in but highblood customs involved drugs and destructive raiding well into the morning.  As one could imagine, it wasn’t safe.

“You’re fine,” Cirava said.  “Cool if we crash here?”

“Sure!” she replied.  “I just have the one ‘cuperacoon though.”

“Cirava can take… the couch,” said Charun.  “I just need… some pillows….”

“Well, actually, if you two don’t mind, maybe we can share it?”

“You sure…?  That wasn’t...virgin punch… it was still spiked….”

“Yeah, Chix, you really okay with this?  We can sleep out here.”

“I’m sure!  If you don’t want to, you don’t have to, but it’ll probably be much more comfortable.”  There was a slight pause as she gathered up the courage to say, “I trust you guys.”

That came as a pleasant surprise to both of them.

“Alright,” Cirava said, followed by Charun some time after.

They barricaded the doors, not that it would really stop anyone, but it did make them feel a little better, and Chixie led the way to her respite block

There they took their waking clothes off and realized just how wonderfully not-awkward it all was.  At no point did they feel like they should be ashamed or that they shouldn’t do it. Though it did get them all cracking up about a conversation they had earlier that sweep, about how if they couldn’t fill their quadrants in adulthood, they’d somehow find each other and pail.

“I really hope that’s not the case,” Cirava said after a good chuckle, “for your sakes.  I wouldn’t want either of you having to fill a bucket with my ugly mug.”

“That’s what…” Charun replied, “...paper bags are for…!”

And there was another round of hearty laughter as they all squeezed in together.  Admittedly, it was a tight fit, but not uncomfortable. Three kids in one recuperacoon.  That would have been some kind of safety code violation if there existed safety codes to violate on Alternia.  Besides the basic “do not fuck with the drones” but that was more common sense.

They realized just before drifting off that they were all holding hands.  And that morning with its cloudy skies and lazy sunshine was the most restful sleep any of them ever had.