#mute virgil

[whatgaviiformes]

Fic: Muted/Unmuted

Summary: A visit to his brother's university doesn't go as planned - but it's what was needed.

Characters: Virgil, John

Words: 3K

Warnings: depression, hinted.

A/N: I have a small contribution. Look, it's been so long, I'm going to drop this and run. Have 3K of Virgil playing piano.

Or, Read on Ao3

~*~

Muted/Unmuted

The restaurant had a coat check, and that’s how John knew he’d have to use the Tracy name to get himself a table coming in without a reservation like he was. Taking advantage of their privilege wasn’t among his favorite things to do - or any of theirs really - but he made a mental note to donate to a local food kitchen, deciding the time with Virgil was worth him using his name for personal reasons.

“Near the music, if available,” he advised the hostess once he’d handed over his gray overcoat. Though it looked flat on the hanger, it was specially tailored to his silhouette. Around his neck, he continued to wear the long, wide scarf he’d walked in with. It had kept him warm walking through the campus of Denver Tech. Though it was warmer inside the building, he’d carried some of the outside chill with him. He’d been out walking a lot longer than he’d intended - once he’d managed to find the Edwards building from Virgil’s scrawl, one of his suitemates had redirected him into town, here, where Virgil had apparently picked up a last minute shift. 

John hadn’t even known that Virgil was working, not with the coursework he had on his plate to keep up with his two majors. But Virgil was like Scott, like John himself, and like their father before them: a man of action. He liked to keep his hands busy. 

He couldn’t deny the skip in his step, for it had been too long since he’d had a chance to visit Virgil in person, let alone had the chance to listen to his music live. Gordon or Alan or even Scott would’ve lamented the time lost, especially when the weekend was already so short to begin with, before finding something else to keep themselves busy. But John had arrived earlier than expected and it made him smile to know nothing had really changed about his brother since going their separate ways to University. Virgil would always step up when he was needed. 

There was nothing John would rather be doing with his first evening visiting than spending a few hours listening to his brother play the piano. The large textbook adding weight to his satchel reminded him he had his own studying he could do. It would be just like old times -  him lounging in the armchair deep in a book and Virgil practicing his scales and arpeggios before launching immediately into whichever piece was his current creative outlet. Sometimes it was the school play, sometimes a competition piece, and for a while his Juilliard entry, back when he thought he might apply. 

“I’ll likely settle down here for a while,” he advised the woman seating him as he relieved himself of the weight on his shoulder and placed his bag on the private booth before sliding in himself. 

“Of course, Mr. Tracy.” 

Privacy curtains blocked out the tables in his periphery, and though he wasn’t directly in front of where Virgil would play, they had secured him a space adjacent to the small stage space with two pianos, currently empty. 

He worried not about the clientele, letting the people fade away from his mind. But he was curious about the place his brother spent so much of his time, noting the soft, warm lighting, swirls of cloudy marble for each table counter, and seating cushioned with velvet. The kind of luxury they’d grown up with. 

Movement at his left caught his eye as Virgil situated himself at the piano. A black suit, slimming, but not among those specially tailored to his form, gave him the appearance of similar elegance. John recognized it for what it was, a uniform just as much as those worn by the other employees. A tie, nondescript enough that he couldn’t make out its coloring in this light. Though his hair was gelled into his usual coif. 

When he noticed John's eyes on him, Virgil gave him a small smile in acknowledgement from across the tables as he flexed his wrists in preparation for his set. John waved back, then opened his textbook to the latest chapter.

The piano keys, pliant under Virgil's capable fingertips, fluttered familiar melodies with the accompaniment of gently clinking glassware and the hum of dinner chatter. For awhile, John lost himself in physics, math, possibility, and theory. A glass of amber, cooled by stone, opened his mind to think a little looser and with a little less pressure sitting behind his brow. 

He thanked the server for bringing out his first course and used the opportunity to glance around the room. For as much as he liked to keep to himself, people-watching was among his favorite pastimes. When they were younger, he and Virgil used to make up backstories for the people they encountered. It had been a simple form of entertainment and yet great practice for their respective creative endeavors where they both relied on their powers of observation and expression. 

But for all the exercises in years past, his brother stole his gaze this evening, so familiar and yet changed in the months since they'd seen each other last. His face had filled out a little around his high cheekbones, five o'clock shadow a bit more prominent in the evening light. The suit squared his strong shoulders, and it made him seem bigger behind the instrument. Not that Virgil ever seemed small sitting at the piano keys, not with the way he enchanted audiences and conjured emotions in tones. 

Virgil was unaware of his prying eyes, his expression locked on the space where his sheet music usually rested. It was blank. Where his fingers flew over the keys with ease, the music itself was beautiful. Light and ever so gentle. But looking over the crowd, enamored with their respective dining partners or focused on the business portions of their dealings that evening, not one gave a care to the direction of the music. So much so that Virgil was practically background; when he paused between songs, there was no applause or acknowledgement to his performance. 

John’s antipasto turned in his stomach, the silverware suddenly loudening in his ears in a moment where Virgil paused and caught him looking, no doubt his expression bewildered. Barely a breath, and his brother was back in his set. And this time, with his mind less divided with his schoolwork set to the side, John heard it. 

The music was beautiful. That hadn’t changed, and Virgil was as precise as ever.

But it was soulless, as lifeless as the chestnut eyes that refused to meet his. 

~*~

Virgil performed two more sets after the first finished, three in total spanning from six to half after nine, with short breaks in between where he scurried somewhere in the back. John tried both times to catch him on his way to the restroom, but both times his brother had eluded him. After the second, a part of him wondered if the disappearing act was intentional. 

“Would you like a refill, Mr. Tracy?” a server asked, a gloved hand reaching for his glass of water before he could answer. “Do you know him, sir?” she asked, noticing his gaze during the final set. “The pianist?”

The more he watched, the more he noticed. There was a lack of embellishment, and his heart pounded over the lack of flourishes in the melodies. After a while, every tune started to sound like the same song repeated, Virgil’s movements rote and uninspired. 

“No.” 

“Oh, well, if you are into music, we have dueling pianos every Thursday night. It’s a bit more lively with two of them.”  

“Does V- he ever play?” 

“Oh, yes, sometimes he’s on the schedule. But you’ll want to come for Monsieur Allard. Should I see about securing you a reservation this upcoming week, Mr. Tracy?” 

John shook his head and broke the news that he was just in town for the weekend, waiting until she’d left to hiss out the breath he’d been holding. It wasn’t the server’s fault that Virgil was playing at barely half his talent, stifled and muted in this space of opulent luxury. It was apparent they didn’t know who Virgil really was, otherwise she wouldn’t have asked. And if John knew his brother, that had been intentional, a place to unwind where he could just play and not be his father’s son with their name marketed for the clientele. 

But, oh, the cost. He didn't know everything, yet. He intended to find out, but one thing he knew - this place was bleeding the life from him. 

He paid his check long before Virgil finished, loath to linger any longer than he needed to in the restaurant. His meal had been as luxurious as their menu boasted, and though the decadent flavors had turned flavorless in his observations, he sent his compliments to the chef and left a generous tip nonetheless. 

Out front, he received in message form. And with that he slung his messenger bag back over his shoulder, retrieved his coat, and happily left the building behind him.

Virgil beamed when he saw him, his arms laden with a garment bag and struggling with his phone. He'd since changed into casual jeans and flannel where the collar peeked through a similar overcoat. 

"You made it!" he laughed, pushing off the wall he was leaning on and slinging his free arm around John's thin shoulders. 

"A bit early," John admitted, the excitement infectious. 

"Come on," Virgil gestured In the direction of campus. "A short walk then we can get you out of the cold." 

They walked in step, and Virgil voiced the directions as they went. John had memorized them on his way in the first time, but there was no reason for him to tell Virgil that, especially when the instructions came with storytelling about which classes he had in the buildings they passed or which dormitories had the most drama. 

"The arts building is to your left." 

John didn't know what to say. He knew Virgil didn't have any classes there; they'd discussed their respective semesters at length this past summer. 

Virgil smiled at him, and it seemed genuine. 

But those eyes. John couldn't ease the turn in his stomach left by the way they looked through him. The glassiness he'd witnessed was long gone, but that didn't mean whatever was doing that to his brother was resolved. 

And they'd seen this before. 

"Are you okay?" The words burst out of him. "You'd tell one of us if you weren't, right?" 

Virgil's expression crumpled. 

John stopped in his tracks, a tentative hand reaching for his elbow "Virgil?"

"Why do you ask?" he replied, spinning toward him. 

“You - you just didn’t seem like yourself.” John dropped his hold on him.

Virgil sighed, wincing as the instinct to tug at his hair left residue on his fingers. He rubbed them anxiously on his jeans. “I guess I owe you an explanation.”

“It’s who they want you to be.”

He bowed his head. “I’m Vince Tanner there; I really thought I’d be doing right by mom’s name. I’d be playing after all. Anyway, I’m sorry I didn’t come say hello; they have rules around us approaching the dinner patrons.” 

“They what?!”

“Anything on the set list has to be pre-approved, all these crowd pleasers. They all sound the same after a while, you know? And I’m not normally so irritated by repetition; but I can’t even -”

Virgil reached out his hands before him, as if invisible keys had sprung out to answer where the words couldn’t, and he played a tune John couldn’t hear. “I tried once. They said I was too disruptive to the guests.” 

John hummed. “What about this Allard person? He any good?”

Virgil snorted. “He sounds sophisticated and smart.”

“Do you get to release any of that,” - he didn’t have the music theory knowledge for the right descriptions, but he knew Virgil understood what he meant - “during the dueling piano nights?”

“No. That whole thing is a joke, and we’re supposed to be there to make Andre sound good. That’s all.”

“Virgil!” At this time of night, the campus was still busy with night owls like themselves or those returning from evening festivities at their party or tavern of choice -  some even on their way to. John didn’t care how his voice raised. There was no visible wound, but Virgil was being bled dry nonetheless. “Why do you even show up?”

“Diego called out sick.” 

“Not just today. Any day. Why are you letting them do this?”

For that, if Virgil had an answer he didn’t share it, his jaw tight. In the yellow light of the street lamps, his skin turned sallow, and he’d crossed his arms over his chest. To protect himself from the cold or from the conversation, John didn’t know fully. But Virgil always did wear his heart on his sleeve. 

“You’ve given me an explanation. Thank you,” John stepped in front of him and grasped him by the shoulders. “But that’s still not an answer.” 

“Can you let it go?” Virgil pleaded, his voice small and deflated. “I don’t want to bring this visit down anymore than it has been.”

“No, I can’t.”  

He glanced up, his eyes welling. “I’m fi-”

“You’re not.”

“No,” Virgil shook his head finally, “I’m really not.” He tightened his arms around himself, breathing deep to push back the swell of tears threatening to fall. “I’m not okay. I’m not.”

This would be the moment big brother would have wrapped him in a hug, Gordon would’ve done the same long before, and Alan wouldn’t have known to push that hard. But John? John had a different answer. Keeping his hands firmly on his brother’s heaving shoulders, he urged them both out of the walkway and toward the building they’d just passed. 

~*~

John let Virgil believe the door had just been open; his rule-abiding would’ve had him running all the way back to Kansas if he’d known they’d broken into the music and arts building. The lock jammer built into his watch was a gift from Parker upon John’s graduation. He hadn’t known if it would work on its own; he’d only had his hope that Denver was as unaware of their security issues as Cambridge. But sure enough, John budged the door open easily and ushered his older brother through the threshold. 

After admitting his struggles Virgil had gone silent. That was ok, John knew. At this stage, the music would speak where Virgil couldn’t yet. 

“Do you know where the music room is?” he asked him. “That’s ok,” he continued when Virgil shook his head mutedly. “We’ll find it.” To the center seemed to be a concert hall, with a gallery lined along the walls of the surrounding hallways. Likely the classrooms would be further back. John stepped further into the left hall, looking for any indication of whether it was approaching the art wing or the music one. 

“Here.” John cocked his head at his brother’s voice, where Virgil was holding the door to the concert hall open and gesturing for John to come back the way he came. “They have a few performances this weekend,” Virgil explained thinly. “I figured the piano might still be here.” 

The theater was Virgil’s space, not John’s, and within a few minutes, Virgil had found the controls he needed to give them a bit of light. The grand piano was situated stage right, facing towards the orchestra seating to provide the audience a side view of the instrument and the pianist. 

While the audience seating looked much more comfortable, John opted for grabbing one of the chairs set up for the back violins and pulled it closer to Virgil’s side. He wanted to stay close. Virgil hands hovered over the keys. Bright eyes looked over to him, unsure.

 “I don’t know where to start.” 

“Play something you wanted to play tonight. Something not on the approved setlist.” John couldn’t help the condemnation laced in his words, nor did he try to. 

Virgil’s flat smile twitched at the edges, and he huffed in agreement, though the sound was shadowed by a trickle of tones that molded into an elaborate musical story. 

Angry and somber, the melody from Virgil’s hands was familiar and the instinct to fill in the poetry of the words overtook him - not enough for John to sing out loud, but with each progressing chord he felt a jolt to his gut. 

It was a cry, a song lamenting the loss of times of war. 

“It feels so wrong to feel the way I feel when there’s this happening. Every day, when I wake up my thoughts drift to Scott, and I wonder what he’s seen that day. How much worse it must be to be in the thick of all this violence.” 

His breath hitched. 

“I want to play something that matters.” 

A harsh crescendo of notes from Virgil’s left hand. The right continuing the melody, softly while the chord bounced along the auditorium and faded. 

“Something mom would be proud of.” 

He stopped. 

“You know,” John tried. “Others’ experiences don’t negate your own just by being worse. I’m worried for Scott too.” 

A flicker of life with a trill, and his hands fell to his sides. 

He looked at John. “Every day my decisions feel like mistakes. Would dad be proud of the path I’ve chosen? Would mom understand? I feel so wrong and worthless. All the time.”

“Oh, Virgil.” 

He sucked in a breath and turned away, hands poised back above the ivory. “This isn’t going to be pretty.”

“Doesn’t need to be, just make it real.” John leaned forward, then asked if Virgil wanted him to go.

Virgil shook his head. “No. You can stay.”

Vulnerable with the cover of night, in a space sacred to Virgil, emotion poured from him, fragmented at first - anger, sadness, jubilance quieted all too quickly - before they converged into a jumble of sound and frustration. 

His soul bled beat after beat. A refrain of Juilliard’s audition pounded from the heart. 

Slashed with another, until it was the two melodies speaking to each other before one assimilated the other.

The cry of war mashed with the trill from earlier, turned minor with panic and worry, persisting. Unrelenting - soulless and lifeless. 

And then it built back up from a singular note, repeated into a quickened pulse, blurred with discordance, then the themes came back, louder, fiercer. Crescendoed while Virgil’s heart purged itself upon the keys.

Songs from the restaurant cascaded around them, the pretty made furious as it washed over them.

Virgil pushed back from the piano stool, standing, his whole self looming over the the movement of his hands, while he borrowed from the strength of his trembling arms and shoulders and back as he pounded on the instrument - and pounded until the music left them breathless, choked of air until there was only heat and noise. Until -

He broke.

A sob slashed the last chord, and Virgil fell to the stage with a thump of his large form. John tumbled forward to his knees in front of him, the pressure behind his own eyes released from watching. But at least Virgil hadn’t been alone. And as soon as he was near enough, Virgil launched himself at the closest brother he had while John gathered him close and whispered not that he was ok, but that he wouldn't be alone.

[delimeful]

not always what they seem (6)

warnings: poor decision-making, graphic panic attacks, lack of communication, guilt, fear, angst

—

With a sinking feeling, Logan watched the most easily-agitated of their guests continue on into the next testing area alone.

It was a breach of conduct to hope for certain results while performing an experiment, primarily because objectivity was vital if one wanted to produce genuine analytic results, but in this case, he found he couldn’t help the urge to wish that either of the others had ventured forward first.

The test itself was a relatively simple one: the chambers in this area were a series of identical rooms, as in the last, with sensitive motion trackers embedded in the flooring. In the previous area, the rooms had been temperature-controlled, so they could see which room their guests would seek out as ideal. There had been more mixed results than expected, but in a case like this, any data was good data.

In this area, each room had a different level of lighting, a spectrum ranging from bright enough that some exclusively-nocturnal species would struggle to see, to dark enough that most diurnal species wouldn’t be able to make anything out.

It was one of the simpler tests, with little to actively fear. Virgil had already begun investigating it with far more initiative than they’d shown in the maze before, their ever present hunched shoulders even beginning to slowly ease down as they went. Clearly, the presence of the other two beings and the harmless precedent set by the previous areas was helping settle their persistent wariness.

(A fact which only made Logan feel worse about what they would have to do next.)

Virgil headed directly for the lighter side of the area at first, frequently casting glances back toward the more shadowed areas, a mannerism that made Logan wonder if they had a surplus of natural predators on their native planet. They spotted the only item of note in the first room immediately, providing substantial evidence to support Patton’s proposal that their guests had strong visual abilities, and approached it slowly.

Seeing as they had refused to do even that much in Logan’s maze, this was heartening progress.

A flat dish segmented into two halves sat on a small stool in the corner of the room, and on top of that dish rested a simple nutrient tab and an orb made up of colorful pieces.

Virgil didn’t spare the nutrient tab much more than a glance, but after a prolonged moment of direct staring, they dared to reached out and swipe the puzzle sphere off the dish, immediately skipping back a few steps and craning their neck to look up at the semi-transparent ceiling.

(The opaque coating on the material was one-sided, so they could watch the results directly without perturbing the subjects by looming over them. In theory, anyhow. Virgil’s vision must have indeed been strong, or at least highly cued to motion, for them to have already noticed the muted shadows of Logan and his research partners through the roof.)

Virgil seemed to be waiting for some sort of severe repercussion for touching the puzzle sphere, as though they expected one of them to swoop down and grab the item from their hands— or even grab Virgil themself. None of them had so much as twitched, aware that even the simplest movements had been known to startle their most skittish guest.

After an exceedingly long pause, Virgil’s tense posture dropped away, and they spent a few moments inspecting the puzzle sphere with enough intensity that they even forgot to check over their shoulder for the duration. Despite being a few levels more complex than the treat ball Logan used in his maze— these were sapient beings, after all— it didn’t take Virgil long to align the pieces properly and thus solve the puzzle, allowing the sphere to pop open and reveal their prize: a dark shining stone.

They had all agreed on shiny prizes, seeing how glinting items had often subtly caught the attention of the tiny aliens. Patton had been concerned about the likelihood of them mistaking something inedible for food, so they had switched from polished mineral marbles to valt stones with a reflective sucrose coating applied to them. Valt stones dissolved in medium heat, so even if Virgil did manage to eat one, the stone would gradually crumble away based on the temperature readings Roman had taken.

It seemed maybe they’d been overly-proactive; Virgil flipped the stone in their hands a few times, drew it close to inspect it, but didn’t so much as smell it, let alone put it in their mouth. After a moment of this, they dropped the stone into the pocket of their leg garment.

They all shared an excited glance: positive engagement!

Virgil perked up further when they ventured into the next room and saw the same set up, only slightly altered: the stool and dish were set in a different corner, and the puzzle was a different shape. They didn’t seem nearly as wary this time, and settled into a routine of locating the dish and walking up to it, picking up the puzzle, and using deft fingers to fiddle with it until they got to the small prize inside.

The only sign that the brightest room gave them any trouble was the slight squint they took on, though the light evidently wasn’t perturbing enough to make them take the puzzle into a different room. That was a good sign; it meant that the odds of causing damage to their guests’ eyes with ray-based scans were low, and many of those scans were invaluable for determining physical makeup.

When it came to the dark rooms, Virgil moved slower, and took slightly longer to scout out the location of the dish each time. In the last three rooms, they took the puzzles to one of the lighter rooms to solve it, helpfully confirming Logan’s theory that they were focusing on the color-matching element of the puzzles rather than matching the tactile symbols on the pieces. In the last room, it was extremely likely that they couldn’t see anything at all, as they moved extremely slowly and searched the room through touch, making a circuit around to each corner and then walking back and forth until they gently bumped into the stool.

These results seemed to indicate that their guests could operate in a wide range of different lighting, but had a considerably easier time navigating in the rooms set to daytime-lighting. They also indicated that Virgil, at least, could see a fairly large scope of color, as it was only on the two most color-complex puzzles that they resorted to using the other available senses to solve them.

The test also indicated that they had no choice but to use the next chamber.

After all those rooms, Virgil still hadn’t touched a single nutrient tab, just as none of the three had done more than disinterestedly inspect the nutrient tabs Patton had left on the table with them in the past two cycles.

This wouldn’t have been unusual or particularly concerning if these had been normal specimens. Many fauna didn’t engage with the nutrient tabs, since they were tailored to be non-toxic to all lifeforms in this quadrant, and thus were admittedly rather bland and uninteresting. In that case, they would usually move on to performing more physical tests to discern what variety of foods were safe and tempting to the creature in question, and then provide those instead.

Things were obviously quite different when working with sapient aliens, especially ones who had refused all physical tests more intensive than touching a thermometer. They couldn’t effectively communicate with their guests yet, and they didn’t have time to dismantle that language barrier. It had already been a concerning amount of time since they’d been taken from the stasis of the specimen sects, and they had no idea how to identify or treat starvation.

It was probable that providing items more easily recognized as edible would solve the issue of their guests not eating, but without that testing, they didn’t know what would be poisonous to the small aliens. If they simply offered an array of foods, as they had the textiles, the chances of their guests having a bad or even fatal reaction to something were far too high. That was an unacceptable risk.

Logan had been the one to insist, in the end. No matter how ill-advised it was to ignore the boundaries of their guests, no matter how much he dreaded the idea of being responsible for the reappearance of that upset and frightened body language, he wasn’t willing to allow them to die through his inaction or lack of care.

He had already made a mistake with the three of them previously, letting panic drive him and ignoring their objections in favor of picking up Remus. If one of them had to become untrustworthy in their eyes, better that it was him.

Logan ignored the concerned glances of his research partners, watching grimly as Virgil pushed through the door to the next testing area.

—

Virgil was having a surprisingly okay time, considering the circumstances.

At first sight of the structure, he’d anticipated some kind of horrible alien death maze, full of sawblades and pit traps and possibly even a car-sized boulder that would squash them all flat.

Instead, it had been full of various rooms, not winding or confusing or particularly maze-like in any way, with items or environments for them to react to. He’d gotten a bit concerned about the puzzles, but really, there weren’t any real signs that pointed to this being a bizarre trial-by-fire or even a remotely competitive scenario, even by his paranoid standards.

There were doors between each distinct chamber, but none separating the rooms themselves, and all the chamber doors had remained open even after they’d split the party like idiots in a horror movie.

He tossed the last weird rock he’d earned in his palm, rubbing his thumb over the dull angles of it. Even knowing they were part of some weird alien plot, it had been surprisingly soothing to focus on those puzzles, probably because he could burn some of his nervous energy by fidgeting with them. Not that he’d say as much aloud; that sounded a little too ���enthusiastic lab rat’ for him. No thank you.

There was probably plenty of data they were getting from each chamber, no matter how simple they seemed, but Virgil wasn’t really in the mood to try and puzzle it out. Dee was probably right about the aliens trying to squeeze as much relevant information from them as possible, but he couldn’t help but feel sort of apathetic on the matter. Sure, they could be using it to learn more about humanity for presumably nefarious purposes, but if they wanted more humans, couldn’t they just grab more humans? They certainly didn’t seem to have a problem nabbing the three of them.

Maybe he was just being stupid, too busy freaking out about their own lives to really think about the big picture or whatever, but it didn’t seem to add up. Like, if he’d found an anthill and wanted to get rid of it, he wouldn’t need to run experiments on the ants to learn more about them first. He’d only have to kick over the anthill.

If all the aliens wanted to do was get rid of them, why bother with all the tests? It had to be obvious by now that they didn’t have any sort of natural defenses that could stand against giant aliens, and their technological capabilities obviously outstripped humanity’s by far.

He wasn’t suggesting they were trustworthy or anything— there was a wide range of options between metaphorical ants and potential friends, after all. Even if their status was closer to ‘interesting lab specimens’ than ‘pests to annihilate’, they still weren’t guaranteed any sort of safety. It was just… something useful to think about whenever the overwhelming panic started to boil up in him.

It was a theory that Virgil immediately lost all faith in when the doors to the next chamber sealed behind him.

He whipped around, a jolt of ice spiking through his veins as he confirmed that yeah, that sliding noise absolutely had been the doors closing, he’d jinxed himself so hard, he was going to fucking die—

“Hey!” he snapped, the word coming out a little strangled on his first try. “Hey! No, no no no, open those back up! Dee! Remus!”

The doors weren’t entirely opaque; he could see through them well enough to tell that the doorways beyond remained clear of any silhouettes. One beat passed, and then another. The fear crept in quicker now, his breathing coming faster. “Guys! I’m serious, something’s happening! Dee!”

Still, nothing.

They wouldn’t just ignore him. Even if they were actually total assholes who didn’t care what happened to him like his brain was screaming, he’d spent enough time around them to know that Dee was nosy beyond belief, and Remus sought out danger like a moth flying into an oven. If they’d heard, they would have responded, one way or another.

So, they couldn’t hear him. That meant this was planned. The aliens wanted something with them— no, with him. They’d separated them, singled him out to get it.

Virgil stumbled hurriedly into a corner, bracing his back against it as he scanned the room, his gaze periodically flickering up to the gray ceiling above where he was sure he’d spotted a shadow of movement earlier.

The chamber itself was empty, with no visible doors other than the two on either side that had firmly locked him in. It was a single blank room, nothing on the floor or the walls, the only notable difference being the fact that it was apparently soundproofed.

It was quiet for long enough that he managed to wrangle his breathing back under control, the tension in him only ramping up as the uncertain moment stretched on and on and on.

And then, a click, and the ceiling was pulled away.

Virgil sank down into a crouch on sheer instinct, as though he could avoid whatever was coming simply by shying away from it. He’d thought the enclosed room was bad, but the sudden feeling of being completely exposed was somehow worse.

The panther alien— Logan— leaned into sight, uncanny eyes locking on him immediately, and Virgil hunkered down a little further.

“No,” he tried, not even sure what he was objecting to, other than everything about the situation. “Do you h-hear me? No.”

Logan’s ears flicked and angled backwards, eyes narrowing slightly, and an audible rumbling started up. Wow! Virgil hated everything about that, actually.

When the alien moved, reaching into the enclosure with one of those inhuman hands, the gesture was almost painstakingly slow. If it was an attempt to not frighten Virgil any further, it failed miserably; it only gave him more time to work himself into a proper panic.

He tried to duck away the moment that hand got close, obviously, but it only took a few tries before Logan seemed to lose their patience. The next grab was too quick to dodge, and Virgil couldn’t help the small shriek that burst from him the moment he was caught, primal terror overriding all rational thought. Logan jolted at the sound, but didn’t loosen their grip nearly enough for him to wiggle free.

“No!” he shouted desperately, but there was no point. Logan may have understood the word, but understanding didn’t mean listening. Virgil didn’t have the same dauntless charisma as Dee, the confidence to negotiate with giants that could choose to do anything they wanted.

His stomach dropped as he was lifted up, the restraining hand wrapped around him never faltering even as he cried out and tried to thrash free. The panic felt nearly blinding, and he barely registered the blur of the much larger room passing by as Logan carried him over to some new surface, presumably for some other strange test.

The moment there was a solid surface under his feet again, he instantly tried to push off of it and scramble free, but even now Logan didn’t release him. He only had a moment to feel oddly betrayed– had some part of him really thought this wouldn’t actually end horrifically?– before he was being repositioned and gently but firmly pressed against the surface, like a butterfly being spread over a pinboard.

Or a corpse set out for dissection.

“Fuckshit fuck, fuck you fuck you fuck you,” Virgil spat as viciously as he could, twisting his limbs ineffectively and frantically pushing against that impossible hold. “Let me go, don’t you fucking dare–!”

The rumbling grew louder, the slightest shake tangible in the hand pressing him down, and the alien shifted their hand slightly, enough for Virgil to see past it.

With their other hand, Logan was holding a narrow silver instrument in the air above him, its purpose indiscernible but its mere presence enough to make Virgil’s voice cut off sharply. His furious struggling died down to involuntary twitches, his wide eyes locked on the tool.

The alien was as unreadable as always, the tip of the tool drifting closer, and Virgil felt his mind go entirely blank with terror.

A high, thin whine split the air, like an animal caught in a trap. It took Virgil a long moment to realize the sound was coming from him.

“Please,” he tried hopelessly, the words barely taking shape. “No. Please no.”

—

This wasn’t working.

Even from an animal, this sort of mindless, terrified whimpering would have been reason enough to stop this procedure and look for alternative, less stressful methods. Knowing they were coming from a sapient being? Knowing that, translatable or not, Virgil had likely been reduced to begging for their life because of his actions?

Logan couldn’t do this.

—

The pressure on him abruptly vanished.

Virgil’s body reacted far quicker than his mind, a fresh surge of adrenaline tearing through him as he hauled himself upright and bolted. It didn’t matter which direction he picked, so long as he was getting away from the threat looming over him.

There were thin semi-transparent barriers set up on each side of the table, preventing him from getting too far and also from doing anything rash in his panic. He twisted to look behind him the moment he reached the furthest corner, half-expecting a massive hand to be hovering over him already, only waiting for him to pause so it could come swooping down–

The alien hadn’t reached forward at all. In fact, Logan looked further away, as though they’d taken a step or two back.

It took a few tense moments for Virgil to pay attention to anything beyond that distance, most of his focus going to keeping his heavy, gasping breaths from turning to outright hyperventilation. His gaze locked onto every small motion Logan was making, but it took several repetitions before he registered the meaning behind the gesture.

It was the same movement as the other one– Roman– had done after trying to separate him from Remus by grabbing him. Dee had hypothesized it was some kind of… apology.

“You should fucking be sorry,” Virgil muttered, still wheezing a little with every inhale. “Serve you right if I– if I keeled over just from– fuck.”

His voice died out as soon as Logan moved, his body flattening further against the barrier behind him as though he could somehow merge through it, but Logan was moving away, reaching towards something to the side.

After a few seconds of rifling, they returned with a thick disc-shaped object in hand. Virgil stared blankly, suspicious and bewildered in equal measure.

Logan seemed to glance over to check that he was watching, and then carefully lifted the disc to their mouth and emphatically sank their teeth into it like they were an excited kid taking a bite out of a cookie. Their lip curled up as they did so, giving Virgil a better look at those fangs than he’d ever particularly wanted, and then, after a long stretch of holding that position, they opened their mouth back up without actually tearing a chunk free from the disc.

Virgil frowned, almost too confused to be frightened, as Logan tilted the disc to show Virgil the clean imprint of teeth left in it. The alien set the disc aside, and then picked the silver tool back up, which set his heart racing anew.

Instead of reaching forward with it, however, Logan simply lowered the tool to the surface where Virgil had been pinned down minutes before, and set a small item down before retreating. Now that he was looking at it from a distance, the tool wasn’t sharp-edged at all, only having two narrow prongs at the end.

… Had he seriously had a panic attack over the outer space equivalent of tweezers?

The embarrassment was powerful enough that he managed to force himself to slowly edge forward, squinting at the item Logan had placed before him.

It looked just like the disc Logan had just bitten, only in miniature.

Oh. Oh.

Virgil was no genius, but even he could put the pieces together on this one.

With a few wary glances at Logan’s towering form, he slid closer and picked the disc up. There was a hard outer shell along the sides of it for him to grip, but the rest of it seemed to be made up of a thick, clay-like material. Not the sort of thing he’d usually put anywhere near his mouth, but… he looked up at Logan again, considering.

There was nothing stopping them from doing this against his will, earlier. Nothing but Virgil’s own protests, desperate enough that Logan had decided to try a different way. Maybe Dee had been onto something, when it came to compromising with these creatures.

Besides, it wasn’t like he was actually eating the stuff. Just… biting it. Eugh.

Pushing past his deep reluctance, Virgil bit down into the disc, jolting a little when he realized there was a flat pane of plastic-y material in the middle that kept him from biting through the whole thing. Really, it felt oddly similar to those mouthguards dentists made him wear while getting an x-ray of his teeth. Except squishier.

He forced himself to hold the weird disc thing in his mouth for what he thought was probably the same amount of time Logan had while demonstrating, and then unhooked his teeth from it with a grunt. Peering closely at the disc, he could see that the holes left behind were perfectly matched to the shape of his teeth.

It had to be some kind of plaster-mold-cast thing, but Virgil had never been all that into ceramics, and so he didn’t have the foggiest idea of what exactly Logan intended to do with a mold of his teeth. At this point, he didn’t even care.

The energy crash was beginning to hit, and so he barely even jumped when Logan reached down at him, only taking a few stumbling steps back and then holding the disc out as far from his body as he could manage.

To the alien’s credit, their touch was gentle enough that he barely registered it as they plucked the disc out of his grasp, the palm-sized disc looking comically tiny between those massive fingers. The rumbling had started back up again. Maybe it wasn’t a displeased sound, after all. Cats purred soothingly, didn’t they?

Logan immediately moved away, presumably to do mysterious alien scientist things to the disc. Virgil spat a few times, trying to get the faint aftertaste out of his mouth, and sat down heavily. His whole body was still shaking like a leaf in the wind, but this sort of wrung-out jittering was vastly preferable to the frantic, burning terror of before.

He’d managed some kind of communication, for what it was worth. He hadn’t died, despite all expectations to the contrary. It had been a horrible experience, but at least he’d managed to figure out what was going on in time to prevent any actual heart attacks.

One thing was for certain: the minute he reunited with the others, he was putting a permanent ban on splitting up in weird mystery mazes. This little excursion had been more than enough for him.

[achilleabee]

thinking really hard about the fact that the void has completely consumed Virgil's hands and causes him to have a muted sense of touch in them. thinking about them trying desperately to feel Elwood's heartbeat when they've fallen asleep to reassure themselves that he isn't alone, that he isn't in the void and their partner is alive. thinking about how the only way he'd be able to feel a pulse would be by pressing their ear to another's chest to hear their heartbeat. thinking SO HARD

[ilikebigshipsandicannotlie]

That is a wonderful vision Gordon, but I have no desire to be a politician. I am very happy saving lives, engineering, making music, making art, doing weighted exercise and other things that make me happy. I don't want to argue with people for a living.

i’ve started listening to more music while i’m up in orbit but i’ve been listening to the same things over and over. does anyone have any recommendations?

[skylarstar1000]

Virgil but he’s autistic and selectively mute for half of his life

And he only opens up to people he really really trusts. So he’s a total mystery to everyone but his closest friends (Remus and Janus)

I dunno I just really love the idea of him and Logan bonding over their autisms and coping mechanisms and yeah

Thank you for coming to my ted talk

[wordy-little-witch]

I am now hip deep in the Edge of Midnight campaign from legends of avantris and lemme tell you some shit -

1) I would lay down my life for Jericho Sticks without any hesitation. Torbek and Jericho are my sons now, no takesies backsies.

2) Lethica and Marius are so perfectly aligned to be end game lovers but I personally adore the idea of them being queerplatonic if only bc it's funny to watch people be confused and I think Lethica would adore that.

3) you can pry the concept of Briggsy having a some kind of magical fantasy cellphone equivalent from my cold dead hands - sending stone or smth idfk - and he's been keeping his buddy/boyfriend Torbek updated on all this like "Becky you would not BELIEVE what happened today-" ((listen I know the flirting bit between them in the yuletide one-shot was a feycurse but leave me alone it's funny as fuck))

4) briggsy @ jericho in ep 24 appropos nothing: Jerry, maybe we have to kiss ((sad, silly twinks with Literal Darksides are his type /j))

5) I have a friend-crush on Nikkie and I will never recover

6) I have an unyielding NEED to have Jericho get a final hit on a boss and yell yeehaw

7) I know stylistically Jericho doesn't have "skin" but I personally hc that his clothes aren't effectively his skin, he has a burlap body - and he has "tattoos" in the form of embroidery. It started when he had to stitch up his own cuts and stuff and he just kept it up.

8) Only Yorgrim has any constant sense of cooking in an actual kitchen-like setting. Farryn, Marius, and Briggsy can do journey or on-the-road cooking, but it's never.... great. Lethica burns everything somehow or gets the bright idea to 'experiment', and it's never good - she's fine if she's got clear end goals. Jericho is understandably skittish around fire due to his body and straw, but he is the closest to being able to cook well and do so semi regularly.

9) Virgil is a weird mix of a hater and lowkey overprotective. He does hate being imprisoned, but also he's kinda bound here so he HAS to keep this disaster of a bard safe. He refuses to admit he might have a soft spot. He is Stressed.

10) Farryn doesn't get the appeal of Girls Nights, but Jericho does!!! They join Lethica for some fun relaxation. Briggsy once asked why Jericho was allowed since he's also a dude, and Lethica just responded "he's allowed to be there - on account of him being a scarecrow and not a literal man after all." It's an inside joke which later has to be explained - Jericho is nonbinary but doesn't rightly care about stuff like that.

11) Yorgrim is the group dad, no I will not explain.

12) sometimes after a battle, Lethica and Marius will help stitch up some of Jericho's tears. Farryn may also add in random flowers she finds around because it makes him happy.

13) Briggsy is small but mighty. The only person he has yet to pick up and carry is Yorgrim - he swears that one day that tombstone will be gone and he'll be able to do it. It's all the rock's fault, he's sure of it.

Spoilers under the cut (caught up to present)

OKAY so I am caught up completely and have decided that Canon is not important leave me alone

• Yorgrim did not die - he got wounded heavily but survived.

• Farryn almost got taken but they got to her in time. She is mute for a time due to injuries and trauma - idk if she ever talks again bc we could use more sign language in the world. Maybe it comes and goes, fuck if I know, idk and idc

ONWARDS TO SILLIES

• Lethica strong armed her way into giving Jericho The Talk after he revealed he had no idea what a penis was. Scarecrows cannot blush, but apparently his fiendish glow can ebb and flow and he glows much MUCH brighter when he's embarrassed - she tries so hard not to laugh.

• Adella and Jericho btw are simply besties. His "crush" on her is a friend crush and Phillip just finds it painfully cute. ((Also -> Jericho has mommy issues and Adella always wanted a son/nephew/little brother. Peaceful alignment))

• Dark Mode Marius is a colossal flirt but still a giant dweeb. He's cool and suave until someone flirts back - then he's a mess.

• Briggsy is very happy with his Kannon & makes "shooting my shot" jokes at every and any opportunity

• Yorgrim, with his reward, manages to finally lay many souls tonrest but he still carries the tombstone on journeys - just not constantly now. He still believes he must pay penance, but it's a little easier to share the burden.

• Farryn, with her own reward, has not chosen to activate it yet. Something tells her to wait, to bide her time and remain. She does, however, get a little more at ease with the others. She and Jericho have come to an understanding, too - that being they they are a package deal, no takesies backsies, and they refer to each other as twin, much to the confusion of many, many, many people. WLW and NBLM solidarity.

• Jericho is pining HARD for Marius, but he's absolutely terrified of damaging the friendship so everyone is watching two oblivious dummies look longingly into each other.

• POLYAMORY POLYAMORY POLYAMORY

• Marius grows rather fond of Virgil, and the sentiment is very much NOT reciprocated bc this angry knight vampire is not good enough for his vessel and he's mad about it.

• Yorgrim: I've only had my friends for a few days, but if anything happened to them, I'd kill everyone in Druskenvald and then myself.

• I fully expect for Jericho to somehow befriend an enemy in disguise, not realize, and accidentally fuck up the evil plan with the powers of puns, music and friendship (/j)

• the first time the party sees Jericho presenting more feminine, he's been lended one of Lethica's dresses after his own clothes got torn up and the rest are being washed. Marius has a nosebleed and faints. Briggsy is staring somewhat respectfully. Lethica is trying valiantly not to laugh. Farryn and Yorgrim regret not dying when they had the chance.

• Marius: i cannot have a relationship because I have sworn to follow the duchess of sin

Lillith: whoa hold up, Do Not use me as an excuse to avoid the cutie pie over there. Besides, he has a demon. I'm queen of hell. I can make a small exception.

Marius: shit

• Briggsy Bi Icon: OH if ONLY Jerry here had a DASHING KNIGHT to SAVE THEM from this PERILOUS INCIDENT

Jericho: captain, I'm just getting off of a horse??

Marius: no no Briggsy has a point, no maiden should be unaccompanied or unassisted. Allow me-

Lethica&Farryn: We Know What You Are

• Yorgrim is watching all this inter party flirting and is definitely wondering if he's gonna have to have an aside with everyone about flirting tactics and communication skills. Briggsy is making it worse by enabling everyone.

• Farryn gets some sweet, succulent healing, that is all.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

aita for not inviting a friend of mine into my dnd campaign?

so i (18nb) have a friend (18nb, Martin) who i play in a main dnd campaign with with all our other friends (Ill name them Dan, Virgil, Mark, and Ray). Dan is our DM after we kicked out the old one bc she was horrible. We're a pretty close group of friends, but lately we've all been really busy with respective school & work, ect. so we didnt play dnd for a solid, like,, 4 months. I DMed a one shot for everyone besides Ray cause she was flaky anyway, and added in my boyfriend Zeke for it.

Everyone had a really fun time w it and I loved everyones characters, especially Dan's. I watch a lot of dnd shows, so i just keep getting more ideas- but while the one shot was fun it was messy as hell. Ive been wanting to write a campaign for a smaller group for a while, (because when i tried making a campaign with the whole group the character creations were... disappointing to say the least. this sounds mean but i created a fairy world that was very magical & told everyone to go crazy on character creation in a world with few/no humans, and like 5/6 people opted to be a human with a fighting class :/ )

ive been writing a campaign that im really proud of and have a good vision for, and decided to include Mark (because we're best friends) Zeke (because he wants to play dnd more and has no opportunities) Dan (bc he never gets to be a player) and then another close friend of mine outside the group named Gabe (who i love but never get to see) I love their characters & we're all super excited.

Thing is. I was briefly talking with Dan, Zeke and Mark about it at school bc I'd sent everyone a little intro message for the world and they were all super excited and wanted to talk to me about their classes. Virgil had no problem with this and was excitedly asking abt the world + characters along with some other friends from school, but Martin got quiet and went and sat by himself. I could tell they were off, but Martin is generally a quiet person anyway and is often sad + doesnt want to talk for like a hundred different reasons, so i left her alone. Later that day in a different class I have with Virgil he showed me his phone where Martin had sent him a message saying she was really disappointed & felt left out that i hadnt invited them to my campaign.

i instantly felt bad and started to text him, but,,,, to be honest, i dont think im at all responsible for this.

i have reasons for leaving Martin out, the main one being that they just..... arent a very active player. Hes soft spoken and doesnt actually like rping their characters- her character in our main campaign is/was literally mute bc they said they didnt want to have to speak as him. (theyve since taken this back and went through with a curse breaking thing to be able to speak, but her character,,, still doesnt talk much.) he writes really good, sad backstories but doesnt actually play or do anything with them and gets uncomfortable acting. Their characters are not only emotional, but like. crazy. they play a bunch of cool tieflings with insane magic classes & features and then, again,,,, dont roleplay them. I didnt want the group to be big and had a good reason for including everyone that i did, and our other friends that arent in it (Virgil, Ray who is Martins sister btw, all our other d&d interested friends at school) literally dont mind at all. i just wrote a campaign that theyre not in. Martin also has their feelings hurt very easily, so to be honest i just find her being sad about not being in it just... stupid. id never say that to his face & i get that he feels bad, but like....cmon.

im aware im a very very incredibly low empathy person- to be honest i struggle with depression and bpd very heavily and am often mean to my friends & loved ones without really processing why or how much it affects them. i told Virgil that i thought Martins reaction was stupid, and he said that that wasnt fair bc Martin had always been in my campaigns before (which is, yknow, one. Martin and I were even in a campaign with a completely different group a while back and Martin willingly left it very early because the group was loud & their character wasnt doing anything (yeah)). Every time Martins expressed (or i guess not expressed) sorrow for not being invited to it ive just sort of ignored them. this again isnt that uncommon cuz when shes sad he doesnt like to talk about it, and also they havent directly confronted me with this at all.

ive been talking about the campaign a lot because it occupies frankly a lot of my brain because i have so much to write, and i especially talk to the people that arent in it bc theres no risk of slipping up and telling them something they arent supposed to know. The other friend, Gabe, is friends with Zeke and Mark and I, and Dan is good around new people,, but Martins really quiet around people he doesnt know well, so if i invited her anyway they'd probably play the game even less than they already do.

again, im really bad at having an actual perspecitve on this. Virgil said he feels bad for Martin but not for himself, as far as i know Dan doesnt know about the situation, and i literally just dont wanna involve Mark and Zeke (Zeke HATES conflict and when people fight so he really doesnt have to be involved.) Mark Martin and I have all been really close friends since literally 7th grade and I guess Martin especially feels left out that I involved Mark and not them but Marks both really good at character creation and also talking in character, and like, hes my best friend who i do everything with.

I dont wanna blow off Martins emotions but but i truly dont give a shit that they feel betrayed by my not inviting him. especially because they havent bothered actually telling me this. objectively i dont think its my fault even a little, and Martin is really horrible at handling their emotions anyway (this isnt an insult, just a fact. i am too). aita for not inviting him + not caring that shes upset by it and acting like they arent?

sorry this is so long i really like providing context

What are these acronyms?

[forest-falcon]

The Butterfly Effect

Chpr 9

⚠️ Trigger Warning for whump and angst.

🧡💙🩵

John brought the space elevator to a smooth halt just above the caldera.

He wanted to get a birds-eye view of One before he touched down.

The elevator door opened, and the astronaut made a conscious effort to coordinate his limbs; the additional gravity about as welcome as a new Fischler Enterprise venture.

John cracked his joints.

"Alright. Time to fly."

The astronaut leapt from the elevator and his jetpack deployed.

*. *. *.

Kayo flailed midair.

There was no time to think, only feel.

Her stomach seemed to drop faster than terminal velocity.

Darkness was swallowing her as light flew from view.

A hand grasped her wrist.

"Kayo. Glad I caught you!"

"John!" Kayo gave an incredulous half-laugh.

"Am I glad to see you!"

"Hold on..."

John guided the two of them back to the relative safety of the poolside.

As soon as his boots touched the ground, Kayo wrapped her brother in a Virgil-esque hug.

"K-ay!"

Kayo indulged herself the human contact a moment longer, before the sound of a jet engine could be heard approaching the island.

"Protocol Phoenix."

John had practically exhaled the words. Relief and disbelief was etched in his features, as though he had forgotten that he himself had summoned them.

"Here. Help Scott."

John shed his jetpack and ran to meet the carrier approaching the beach.

With feline accuracy, Kayo caught the pack.

Hold on Scott, I'm coming.

*. *. *

"Scott? Scott? You with me?"

Scott stirred, his brain registering the noise, but not the name.

"Scott, it's Kayo. Come on, sleepy head, no snoozing on the job. Can you open your eyes for me?"

A muted moan rattled around his ribcage.

His head hurt.

He was vaguely aware of his eyelashes flickering. Jeez...the last time his head felt this bad, he'd sampled some of Gordon's homemade moonshine. The memory curdled his stomach and he whimpered.

"You're okay. You're okay. I'm with you."

Kayo's slender fingers were resting on his face...on grazed cheekbones. It didn't hurt, not really. Not compared to the other injuries his body sported; but there was something in the sensation that registered as uncomfortable; an invasion of personal space that had him pulling away from her touch.

"Scott, try not to move for me, okay? It's very important that we keep your neck and head still."

His eyes finally opened.

"There you are."

Kayo offered him a warm smile. A smile saturated in love and reassurance. A smile that told him that he was going to be okay.

"-ay?"

Eurgh, his mouth was dry.

"I've been called worse," her expression shrugged, but her hands remained steady.

"Head."

It hurt. He still didn't know why. Where were they? Building collapse?

"You've been in an accident."

"Air?"

"Air?" Kayo parroted.

"I'm not sure I follow. Your oxygen stats look good... Or do you mean you were flying in the air?"

"Wh-w-where?"

His lungs felt like they were out of sync from the other muscles it took to breathe.

"Oh! You're home Scott. Well, the pool...kinda."

Scott blinked at her.

"Not your finest landing."

Landing.

Like a circuit finally completed, the jigsaw fell in place.

He'd been fixing One's overhead locker when the call came in.

Some pot-holers had managed to get themselves wedged in a remote location and needed assistance.

Gordon and Alan were already out in Four, and Virgil was off rota, so; One was required to safely extract the group.

His mind had switched to rescue mode. Muscle memory fulfilling the required procedures to launch his Bird. Truth be told, he couldn't remember stashing the Toolbox he was using in the very locker he had been fixing, but his head injury attested to the fact that he had.

The mission proved to be a straightforward one. Honestly, the GDF could have taken it; but given the limited information they had to go on, they weren't to know.

With no visible injuries and paramedics having arrived on scene; Scott fired One, and headed home. It wasn't until she made the switch to horizontal flight that the toolbox had shifted. In any other locker it would have been fine, but...stupid is as stupid does. He'd shoved it in the faulty one.

...which promptly opened.

...allowing the contents to rain down on top of him.

Judging on colour alone; the wrench was the offending item that had clipped him. The grease rags had mercifully missed.

What happened next was all a bit of a blur.

All he could really remember was wanting to make it home to Virgil.

"Vir-gil?"

"We'll get to Virgil. Right now, you're my priority."

"Pri-rity?"

"Yes. John and the rest of Phoenix are heading to him now."

Scott felt his veins turn to ice.

"No, no, no... Virg-l!"

Kayo's hands were fussing around him.

He pushed the aid away. This was his fault.

He did this.

Kayo attempted to thwart his thrashing.

"Geroff me and help Vir-"

"Sco-"

"VIRGIL!"

"-Shut the hell up Scott and listen!"

Two cat-green eyes pinned him.

"One is compromised. You not listening endangers us both, get it? I'm not leaving you, so either you let me do my job, or we both die here."

Scott's brain cowered. She meant every word. Kayo, like the rest of them, was loyal to a fault. She wouldn't leave him.

Sensing his outburst had passed; Kayo began fastening the foam blocks around his head.

She was staring him dead in the face.

"Help is coming."

Now he understood. First responders make for the worst patients. Best he could do was to trust her.

"Okay."

"Good."

Kayo exhaled slowly.

“John's activated Protocol Phoenix. The carrier has already arrived and John's gone to meet them.”

Scott blinked groggily. If Protocol Phoenix had been activated, then this was an even bigger fuck-up than he'd first thought.

“Phoe-nix?”

“Yes Scott. We rise from the ashes.”

"God, that's cheesy."

"Attaboy. Now let's get out of here."

[not-your-average-highschool-au]

✨Dynamics✨

Okay so👏 Character dynamics at the “start/beginning” of the au:

Patton, Logan, and Roman are a tiny best friend group. They don’t really have many friends outside of this group since Roman finds it hard to mesh well with people, Patton finds it hard to even talk to new people, and not many people appreciate Logan and his fandom talks. So they don’t have too many friends outside the group but they don’t mind.

Remus and Janus are super close. They’re the best of friends and constantly are spending time together, only not being seen together when they’re off doing their respective school activities (ex: Janus’s practices, Remus’s academic activities, etc). Aside from that, they’re basically attached at the hip.

Virgil is apart of a completely separate friend group and is kinda detached from everyone at first. Since he’s super popular, he’s got a huge friend group and they’re who he mostly hangs out with. However, he knows of the other sides and they know of him.

In terms of groups crossing paths with each other (idk how else to word it lol); Patton, Logan, and Roman do end up hanging out with Janus and Remus since… you know, Roman and Remus are brothers. Since Janus and Remus are older though, they kinda lovingly make fun of/tease the group. They don’t think badly of them but they still tease them a bit. Logan and Patton don’t really mind but it really can get under Roman’s skin for sure.

With Virgil, Janus and Remus respect him due to how popular he is and they do sometimes hang out when the opportunity arises. As for Patton, Roman, and Logan, the dynamic with Virgil is a tad different for each pair individually.

With Virgil and Patton, they both had a mutual respect for each other. Patton admires how kind Virgil is to him and others while Virgil thinks that Patton is super cool (he’s a huge fan of Patton’s aesthetic). Currently working on a drawing to show off a bit of this dynamic so keep an eye on for that haha

With Virgil and Roman, Virgil thinks Roman’s pretty cool but Roman can’t really stand Virgil. Roman doesn’t hate him exactly but he is a little annoyed whenever he shows up. Roman can’t really explain why he has this kinda distain towards Virgil. Maybe it’s cause deep down, Roman’s a bit jealous of how popular Virgil is; idk👀

With Virgil and Logan, there’s also a kinda mutual respect. It’s not in the same way as Patton and Virgil though; it’s a bit more of a muted and chill respect, if that makes sense. Logan thinks that Virgil’s generally pretty cool and has more of a neutral, positive leaning feeling towards him. Virgil feels a similar way towards Logan; he admires how open he is about his interests but he doesn’t really admire it as much as he admires Patton.

Anyways, I think that’s everyone!! Thanks for reading!

[sanderssidesplaylist]

i cant believe i didnt think of Voices In My Head from Be More Chill for Thomas sooner but Im thinking about it now so this is my formal submission

(Strongly encouraged to listen to the song before voting! Lyrics under the cut.)

You've gotta buy her a rose, compliment her on her clothes Say you appreciate that she’s smart! Nah, man, you tell her that she excites you sexually And that's the way you get to her heart! Trust me, I know How it's gonna go Listen, and oh

And there are voices in my ear I guess these never disappear I'll let 'em squeal and I will deal and make up my own mind Might still have voices in my head, but now they're just the normal kind Voices in my head, but now they're the normal kind!

Just summon strength from within! Don't get hung up on your skin! She prob'ly thinks that acne is hot I'll throw you a rope, home slice, if you need some dope advice Now, march on over and give her a shot!

Buddy, you'll see It'll go perfectly If you listen to me, me, me!

And there are voices all around And you can never mute the sound They scream and shout, I tune them out, and make up my own mind Might still have voices in my head, but now they're just the normal kind Voices in my head, but now they're the normal kind!

I still remember how it felt It's embarrassing to find out deep down, I just want things to be easy Yeah, but, who wants things to be hard? Look, I almost destroyed the school Maybe all of human civilization I know that the last thing I deserve is another shot, but- Just- Say what's on your mind, Jeremy Lunch? Just the two of us?

And any voices in our heads? There might be voices in our heads But I swear the voices there will be the regular kind Me and the voices in my head have made up our collective mind What do they say we should do? I think that all of us want to go out with you

And there are voices in my head So many voices in my head And they can yell and hurt like hell, but I know I'll be fine! Still have voices in my head And there are voices in my head Of the voices in my head, the loudest one is mine! (Jeremy...) Loudest one is mine! (You can't get rid of me that easily...) Loudest one is mine! (Jeremy) Na, na na na na na na na na na, na na Na, na na na na na na na na na, na na Na, na na na na na na na na na, na na Na Let's go! C-c-c-c'mon, c-c-c-c'mon, let's go! C-c-c-c'mon, c-c-c-c'mon, let's go! C-c-c-c'mon, c-c-c-c'mon, let's go! C-c-c-c'mon, c-c-c-c'mon, let's go! C-c-c-c'mon, c-c-c-c'mon, let's go! C-c-c-c'mon, c-c-c-c'mon, let's go

[analogicalreasoning]

Another Analogical ramble

Am I ORIGINAL?, in my opinion, seems to be where Virgil starts to take a liking to Logan. He likes that Logan is opposing Roman's idea of pure originality, he's impressed by his rapping, he smirks when Logan remarks "this is what we get for making [Roman] the leader", etc

He starts to feel a sense of affection for Logan, despite it being very muted, because he doesn't feel alone anymore. He's not the only one who opposes Roman, he's not the only one getting insulted and put down.

That's why when Logan calls Virgil a defeatist at the end of the episode, Virgil really seems to take it to heart. He doesn't say anything after that and sinks out in silence. He's hurt that the person he thought he could relate to was never actually on his side like he thought he was.

Cut to My NEGATIVE Thinking, and Virgil is SOUR. As soon as Logan starts to oppose Virgil's ideas about Thomas' performance, he claims that he's taking Roman's side. Logan makes it a point to underline that he's not on Roman's side and never said that he was. That says to me that Virgil is so stuck in the idea that he's alone again that he jumps to accuse Logan without substantial evidence.

It's obvious that when Logan begins to compliment Virgil he's shocked. He thought that Logan didn't like him not only because he called him a defeatist, but also because he felt isolated by him at the end of Am I ORIGINAL?. Logan telling him that he did good for participating despite not wanting to, claiming that he doesn't mind his company because the other two are overwhelming, and even saying (albeit not outright) that he thinks Virgil is capable of sophisticated thinking is surprising.

That's the springboard for their relationship. In previous episodes they had a very weak connection (including Logan saying that Virgil was the antagonist and Virgil just kind of weakly defending himself) but obviously there's more to My NEGATIVE Thinking than just a debate between the two characters.

I love them so much, AnalogicalReasoning ramble over <3

[alex-logan-w]

Im promoting my fics here cause I need validation 😃

Starting off with one of my newer fics: White Lies

White Lies is a detective/murder mystery au.

Janus and Virgil are brothers who started a private investigation company. Meanwhile, Logan and Patton became detectives for the police force, but whenever case was too difficult or if they were too restricted, they would call up Jan and Virge.

But when Roman calls Logan, saying that Remus is missing, Janus and Virgil find themselves called in, and find themselves in deep trouble.

This fic I actually started 3 years ago, but dropped it when I left the sasi fandom, so now that I'm back I'm rewriting it!

TW for mild gore and violence, typical murder mystery stuff

Next up: Us

This fic does has a TW for death at the end, most of my fics doooo BUT it's a good fix lmaoo

This fic is about DID and OSDD. Roman and Virgil are both systems. But when Roman ends up in a car crash, he gets stuck in his inner world and has to find and save his alters. Meanwhile, Virgil and his alters are taking care of their sons, Patton and Logan.

Then there's: Sword in the Ashes

Virgil is a half elf who's village was burned down by a DragonWitch. As he's escaping, he runs into two elves, Roman and Remus. Together they venture to the next town to prepare to slay the DragonWitch. While there, they meet a tefling named Logan, a dragonborn named Janus, and a gnome named Patton.

This actually ended early cause this was about the time I dropped out of the sasi fandom, so I plan on rewriting it as soon as I finish White Lies!

TW for fantasy violence

And finally (cause I'm limiting this to 4 (I have 25 sasi fanfics-)): The Words We Don't Say

In this fic, Logan is mute from a car accident that took his parents, disabled his eldest brother Janus, and forced his older brother Virgil into a parental role.

His life turns around when he meets Patton, who's deaf, and they become quick friends. And Patton's older brothers, Roman and Remus, become close friends with Virgil and Janus.

TW for discussion of death, graphic car crash

But yeah! I have a lot of fics with all different ships and AUS and genres so please check them out!!! Please? Please!? I need validation I'm so lonely-

[delimeful]

nothing in this world (i wouldn't do) (6)

warnings: captivity, restraints, panic attacks, unethical science, experimentation, wounds, injury and blood mention, character being kind of an ass, fear, bird ex machina, lmk if i missed any  

-

Virgil woke up to find he was surrounded by darkness and completely unable to move.

Seeing as the last thing he remembered was being poisoned into unconsciousness by a demon slayer with mad scientist leanings, this was about as far from reassuring as an awakening could be.

For a disoriented moment, he tried to check for the baby crow, which mostly just involved him listening closely for any loud, raspy-voiced swearing. Naturally, there wasn’t any, because he’d blacked out and the slayer very clearly hadn’t wanted Roman’s bird anywhere near him.

Bizarrely enough, he felt a little morose at the baby crow’s absence. Maybe because she was the only creature who had figured out that despite being a monster, he wasn’t actually a threat to humanity.

Or maybe it was just because being immobilized in a dark, silent place was totally freaking him out, and he would have taken any company so long as it meant he hadn’t been locked away forever or buried alive.

(Could he still die from a lack of oxygen? Would he be stuck underground, conscious and alone, for the rest of time? He couldn’t even call out for help.)

His body was unresponsive, and nothing his brain was coming up with was remotely helpful, so Virgil focused on his breathing, trying to keep his count steady as he inhaled and exhaled air that could be rapidly running out—

By the time the slayer entered the room, Virgil had already hyperventilated himself into unconsciousness a few times, each time utterly convinced he was dying.

The man didn’t bother saying anything to him or even sparing him anything more than a glance, simply walking around the space and lighting several lamps at a brisk pace, but Virgil felt a vast, sweeping sense of relief fall over him regardless.

He wasn’t buried. He hadn’t been left alone to rot away in the dark.

He was… extensively strapped down to a waist-high table in the center of the room?

A significant amount of his relief started to fade. Right. He’d been caught by a slayer who wanted him dead or worse, and was now entirely at his mercy— assuming he even had any for demons.

There was another person in the room, too, and they scurried about so quickly that it took Virgil a few moments to identify them as the wary stranger who had sent him to go find their brother. They were wearing the same uniform as the slayer, now, which answered basically all of Virgil’s potential questions about the situation.

“Subject ABN-V3, Log 1,” the slayer started, and Virgil’s eyes flicked over to him curiously. “The subject regained consciousness approximately half an hour after halting the regular wisteria toxin doses, indicating remarkable poison resilience, comparable to a Lower Rank.”

There was the distinct scratch of hurried writing, but the slayer’s hands were unoccupied as he circled Virgil’s prone form. The younger slayer must have been an assistant.

There was a muted pressure on his hand, which refused to even twitch, even as the pressure grew heavier. The slayer hummed, pulling away. “In contrast, regeneration ability appears relatively slow. Internal organ function has resumed, but exterior nerves and muscles remain paralyzed.”

His organs had been paralyzed?! Virgil’s breathing stuttered, and he wrestled with the instinctual panic for a moment. His lungs were clearly working now, so he should just keep breathing and not pass out again.

When he looked back over, it was to the sight of the slayer staring directly at his face with a detached sort of curiosity. That composed mask of his may have dropped for a few moments in the clearing, but it was fully repaired and glued in place now.

“Do you have anything to say?” he asked, which was a little startling.

Virgil blinked at him for a moment, and then very quickly recalled that blinking was about all he could do. His hands weren’t cooperating with him, and even his head felt too heavy to shake or nod at the moment.

An irritated rumble started up in his chest for a moment before dying out, and he heaved a low sigh, already exhausted. He’d burnt through all his default terror while panicking in the dark, and now there was barely anything left to scrape up for his impending dehumanizing death.

The slayer only watched him impassively for another long, silent stretch of seconds before turning his attention away.

“Subject’s nonverbal behavior remains consistent with previous encounter,” he narrated, which succinctly explained why he’d bothered to verbally prod Virgil in the first place. “No secondary manifestations present in the room. We’ll proceed with direct regeneration testing while the paralytic is still in effect.”

There was a metallic clink, and Virgil’s gaze flicked over to a tray covered with tools he could only guess at the purpose of. Most of them were sharp-edged.

At least he wouldn’t be able to feel them. Yet.

The slayer picked up a thin blade, and Virgil squeezed his eyes shut, in an attempt to not have to see whatever was being done to him.

The narration of that calm, clinical voice couldn’t be as easily blocked out, so he found out regardless.

—

His healing factor had improved a lot since being turned into a monster, but it wasn’t anywhere close to the level he’d seen from some of the other demons he’d fought, so he wasn’t surprised to find that the first thing he felt when the paralysis began to wear fully off was pain.

The wounds weren’t serious, at least. He hoped that didn’t mean they were saving more lethal ones for when he could actually feel them, but he wasn’t optimistic about his odds.

(Unsurprisingly, it seemed like most demon slayers really hated demons.)

The slayer seemed strangely perturbed by the way the methodical injuries he’d inflicted hadn’t healed yet. Apparently, vastly accelerated healing was the norm for most demons, so this was just another way in which Virgil was a freaky outlier. Virgil could have told the slayer as much himself if he’d been able to sign.

Not to say that he’d regained all his vocabulary. With his limbs strapped firmly down, his post-poison communication was limited to signs that he could form with just his hands, and no accompanying movements. Fingerspelling was tedious, but at least it was possible.

“S-L-E-E-P,” he’d signed when the slayer had been theorizing on his apparently deeply unusual slow healing. “L-O-N-G.”

It took a few repetitions for his captor to pay it any mind, but once he did, his expression immediately creased with doubt. Virgil let himself look irritated about the reaction, because really, what was the point in pretending? He was screwed either way.

“If hibernation periods could heal demons, there would be longer stretches of inactivity between attacks,” the slayer said, frowning down at him. “It would make my job much easier if that were the case, but it isn’t.”

Since when was Virgil the representative for all of demonkind? He’d barely even spoken to other demons, since generally their interactions tended to start and end with them trying to kill each other. This was his supernatural sleeping schedule, not theirs.

Generally, he only slept like that when he was injured. If he wasn’t hurt in a fight, he didn’t get tired. He signed as much to the slayer, and earned a disbelieving scoff for his efforts.

Virgil had only been dozing lightly so far, seeing as he was currently trapped and about as far from safety as he could possibly get, but the disbelief rankled, and he huffed before pointedly closing his eyes as though to prove it.

He thought maybe the slayer wouldn’t allow it— there probably wasn’t much to scientifically observe when your subject is sleeping— but to his surprise, the man only noted down the behavior and then left.

It took a good part of the first day to force himself down into genuine sleep, but being left alone in a quiet space was close enough to his usual cave naps that he eventually managed to sink into the heavy unconsciousness of one of his impromptu hibernation sessions.

A full week later, he snorted into wakefulness to see the slayer had unstrapped one arm and was inspecting the smooth skin where the incisions had been previously.

This must not have been the first time he’d removed a restraint to see if Virgil was faking his beauty rest, because his head shot up with keen alarm the moment Virgil’s eyes fluttered open.

He released Virgil’s hand and drew a thin, needle-like dagger from his side in the same moment, presumably a breath away from poisoning him back into temporary organ failure.

Virgil barely even registered the movement, his eyes still crusted over with sleep. Half-awake and triumphant, he blearily inspected his completely-healed arm and then promptly signed, “I told you so.”

“Return your arm to the restraint,” the slayer instructed, his voice brooking no argument and his gaze assessing.

Virgil made a sour face, rubbing at his eyes. “Don’t you have cuffs?” he asked, turning slightly so he could tap his free wrist to his strapped down one for the last sign. “I could at least sign in those.”

“The restraint. Immediately,” the slayer replied, firm as stone.

A low grumbling growl of complaint started up in Virgil’s chest, but there was no way he could get free of the other restraints quickly enough to try and escape, and he really wasn’t looking to get his organs shut down again for no reason.

Besides, the assistant kid was still there in the corner, watching him with wide eyes, and he didn’t like the idea of scaring them.

Fine. He’d go back to his stupid nap then.

With a petulant scowl, he closed his eyes and stuck his arm back out and allowed the slayer to pin it back into place and tighten the straps over it. He flipped him off afterwards, though, just to make things clear.

It was quiet for long enough that he pried his eyes back open suspiciously. Both of the slayers were staring at him like he’d just started abruptly juggling fish or something, and he raised his eyebrows in a display of irritated bewilderment.

For once, the slayer didn’t have some snappy annotation to spout, only glaring down at Virgil with his jaw working like he was gritting his teeth.

Was he really that pissed off that Virgil had been telling the truth about his healing? Why?

“Professor Logan—,” the baby slayer whispered, faltering when Virgil’s gaze flicked their way.

“That’s enough for today,” ‘Logan’ answered, stepping away from the table. “We’ll speak elsewhere.”

Virgil only barely managed to stifle an incredulous noise as the two of them left, putting the lights out as they went. They’d never bothered to take their rude and often horrifying conversations about him elsewhere before. Maybe he should try being right about things more often.

—

“Bastard!”

Virgil’s eyes flew open at the muffled call, his head feeling much clearer after sleeping off the last of the poison’s symptoms.

It was quiet and dark all around him, as always, and for a moment, he nearly convinced himself that he’d imagined the noise entirely.

Then, from outside the door, there was a raspy squawk and an audible ruffling of feathers. “Fiend! Fiend?”

… Just how determined to swear at him was this bird?!

He couldn’t exactly respond, and he wasn’t sure why he would want to. Logan had reacted extremely negatively to the bird existing in the same space as him last time, and he wouldn’t wager that the slayer’s attitude had changed in the past however many days.

Still, the crow was clearly looking for someone, possibly even him. He could hear the distinctive pitter-patter of little taloned feet scurrying back and forth on the floor, with the occasional inquisitive swear thrown in.

After a few long minutes of this, Virgil gave up on trying to go back to sleep, unable to tune the little creature out. He may as well try to answer in the limited way he could.

It took entirely too long, but he managed to purse his lips and whistle a long, low note.

The clicking of steps stopped dead, and then grew abruptly louder, the bird’s faux-speech taking on an excited tone.

The baby crow audibly scrabbled at the doorway for a few seconds, before evidently managing to worm her way under the door gap. From there, she made short work of the flight up to the table, where she immediately perched directly on Virgil’s forehead and peered upside down at him.

“Scourge!” she announced gleefully.

Someone certainly hadn’t learned her lesson about fraternizing with big scary demons. He whistled an amused note at her, fingers twitching in an impulse to reach up and ruffle her feathers before he remembered his situation.

Right. No bird-petting for monsters, he guessed.

The crow— wasn’t her name Fluffbutt or something?— seemed to notice the movement, though, and she traversed down Virgil’s arm in little hops. He still couldn’t really reach her scruff of downy baby feathers from this angle, but he gave it his best attempt.

Fluffbutt pecked him harshly, which, rude, and then she turned around and started picking at the straps holding his forearm down.

… No fucking way.

Virgil craned his neck to look over at the bird, his disbelief slowly melting away as he saw that yes, the crow really was tugging and prying at the corded knot holding the restraints in place like her life depended on it.

It was slow going, but as she steadily worked at it, Virgil could tell that progress was being made. He wiggled his arm testingly every so often, usually getting bit for his efforts, and after what felt like hours of agonizing waiting, he finally managed to pull through the last threads of the restraints.

He only had one arm free, but that and some time was all he really needed. Fluffbutt reclaimed her spot on his forehead, watching as he quickly tore at the restraints on his other limbs.

As it turned out, quickly sitting up for the first time in days was a bad idea. Virgil rode out the surge of dizziness and pushed to his feet, pacing back and forth in the small room until he was confident that his legs had remembered how to function well enough to get him out of there.

A simple test of the handle revealed the room had been locked, and Virgil wasted a few minutes poking through the unsettling number of medical tools in the room before realizing there was no way they’d left the key in here with him.

He could probably kick the door down if given a few tries, but the more noise he made, the more likely it was that Logan would find him mid-escape and put him right back in those restraints. Virgil had no illusions on how a second match between him and the uncannily quick slayer would turn out, which meant that stealth was currently his best friend.

He turned his gaze to the wall, wondering if they were flimsy enough that it would be better to try and punch a hole through one of those, but before he could decide further, he heard the sound of approaching footsteps.

Shit. Plastering himself against the wall, he waited tensely for them to pass by— only for them to pause right outside the doorway. There was the distinct click of a key being inserted into a lock. Double shit.

The door swung open, and the assistant slayer had just enough time to look up and see the empty specimen table before Virgil leapt at them.

Don’t freak out, he would have said if his hands weren’t currently occupied with covering the slayer’s mouth and dragging them bodily into the room. Instead, he made a series of low chuffing sounds from deep in his chest, which helped absolutely nothing about the current situation.

“Scourge!” Fluffbutt crowed, her contribution equally as unhelpful.

Hurriedly booting the door shut with his foot, Virgil only had a moment before the baby slayer gave up on trying to pry his hand away and instead went for the sword sheathed at their side.

Since letting them do that was basically a one-way street to getting decapitated, he risked releasing them for long enough to tear his claws through their belt and yank the sword free, sheathe and all, before tossing it into a corner with a muted thud.

“PRO—,” they started, and Virgil slapped his hand back over their mouth, hissing lowly in the closest approximation to a shush that he could manage. They responded by glaring and biting him, which he really should have expected after living with teenagers for a few months.

It only took a glance around the room to find a suitable cloth from the cache of cleaning supplies, and Virgil wrangled the baby slayer into a headlock for the handful of seconds it took him to assemble a makeshift gag and shove it in their mouth.

With the slayer now unable to raise the alarm, Virgil paused for a moment to think, his whole body jittering with sudden adrenaline. The easiest solution would obviously be to strap the slayer into the convenient demon-proof restraints readily available on the specimen table, but he really didn’t want to do that. The kid was already panicking hard enough, the last thing he wanted was to make them think he was going to experiment on them or something.

Instead, he tore a larger piece of linen into strips and wound them around the slayer’s wrists a few times before knotting the end of the faux-ropes intensively around one of the table legs.

The slayer started yanking against the makeshift restraints the moment Virgil stepped away, their cries muffled but still audible enough that he should really be escaping sooner rather than later.

Luckily, his cloak had been dumped on a nearby shelf with the rest of the meager belongings he carried with him, mostly ignored after Logan had finished snooping through it for bones or something. Virgil ignored Fluffbutt swooping noisily around his head as he slung the comforting weight back around his shoulders and pulled the hood up, and then stepped back around the table towards the door.

The baby slayer seemed to think he was headed for them instead, their gaze very obviously wide with terror as they scrambled ineffectively to get away from him. He stopped short, guilt swamping him.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he signed, backing up a few paces to try and give them some space. “I just want to get out of here, okay?”

The kid stared at him, chest rising and falling as rapidly as a sparrow’s. He sort of wished he had heard their name at some point, but it probably wouldn’t have made a difference. As it was, he didn’t even know if they knew sign, let alone how to calm them down.

He sighed, lifting his hands up to his shoulders in a gesture of nonaggression, and edged around them to finally get to the door. Fluffbutt settled on his shoulder, apparently content to be identified as a little feathered demon-associating traitor. 

The hall was blessedly empty when he stuck his head out to check, and so he waved a small farewell to the kid— almost certain that they would wriggle out of those haphazard bonds within the hour— and closed the door after himself.

The key was still sitting there in the lock, so he twisted it to relock the room, and after a moment of thought, dropped the key and kicked it under the door so that the kid wouldn’t be stuck if nobody else came by in the next few hours.

He’d done it. He was out— mostly, anyhow.

Now, all he had to do was stay out.

[amazing-spiderlad]

Aperture definitely made some of those super cheesy corporate videos. I'm picturing a pride month video that just opens with Cave Johnson and Caroline standing in his office like

"Here at Aperture, we fully support the lgbt community. Isn't that right, Caroline?"

Caroline, holding a pride flag: Yes sir, Mr Johnson!

"Just ask one of our many homosexual employees!"

Then it cuts to Wheatley reading off a piece of paper without having been told what it's for

Wheatley: I feel accepted and supported at Aperture, my low intelligence and liking men won't stop me from being a part of science-

"At Aperture, we're fully committed to diversity. From our test subjects-"

Then there's just a shot of Chell standing there with a subtitle saying "mute lesbian"

"To our maintenance team-"

Virgil, holding a pride flag and literally the only one who looks like he's participating willingly: I like men, and that's okay!

Then it just shows the company logo but rainbow coloured

[danganronpadedication]

DAY 7: DANGANTOBER

Day 7: Fandom Crossover

Once again, I was inspired by another person here on this wonderful hellsite I call home, @lobotoboy and their post about a Ride the Cyclone x Danganronpa AU, so that's what I will discuss.

Fun fact for all of you, I am a recovering theater kid. Yes, I manage to get more cringe each and every day. One day, I shall absorb all the cringe in the world and ascend to godhood. I was not one of the crazier ones, I wasn't talented enough to be in the inner circle and actually do shows after a while. But I was engrossed in certain shows, mainly horror ones like the Hatchetfield series, Jekyll and Hyde, Carrie, and We Are The Tigers (this one is underrated, it's Bring It On meets Scream). The musical that managed to get me to relapse a while ago, is Ride the Cyclone, whose soundtrack I'm listening to as I write this.

Without spoiling the show, because I highly recommend it to anybody with even a little bit of interest in it, here is the general plot. It follows a group of choir kids, consisting of two girls, Ocean O'Connell Rosenburg, a go-getter girl with big dreams and a superiority complex, and Constance Blackwood, a sweet girl who's spent her whole life in Uranium City with no plans on leaving. The boys of the group are Noel Gruber, a nihilist with a...certainly unique method of escapism, Mischa Bachinski, a Ukranian rapper with an online lover he met in the YouTube comment section, and Ricky Potts, a disabled boy who, despite being mute, has a certain love for cats.

These five get their fortunes read by an animatronic fortune teller, named The Amazing Karnak, before getting on the Cyclone rollercoaster. The rollercoaster derails at the apex of the loop, and they fall to their deaths. They wake up in purgatory, in a game ran by Karnak, who actually has the ability to predict people's deaths. He wants to give them another chance at life, and decides to have them each plead their case to him for who deserves that chance the most. Of course, what's a game without a twist? Karnak introduces a new character, dubbed Jane Doe, since no one was able to identify her headless body in the accident. She was supposedly another member of the choir, but no one knows for sure. The show is each of them pleading their case to Karnak and learning more about each other, until it is decided who gets another chance.

In the original post being discussed here, the cast was as follows: Junko Enoshima as The Amazing Karnak

Monokuma as Virgil the Rat (a rat buddy of Karnak's that will one day lead to their mutual destruction)

Nagito Komaeda as Noel Gruber

Leon Kuwata as Mischa Bachinski

Kaito Momota as Ricky Potts

Hajime Hinata/Izuru Kamukura as Jane Doe

Ruruka Ando as Ocean O'Connell Rosenburg

Chiaki Nanami as Constance Blackwood

No notes, none at all. This a perfect casting in my eyes. I think that, for the most part, all the characters fit.

Let's start with the easiest one, Monokuma as Virgil the Rat. It simply just makes sense in my monkey brain. Virgil is a rat that is slowly chewing through Karnak's power cords, and will one day bite down on a live wire, killing both of them. Karnak chooses to depict Virgil as a super cool bass player. I would KILL to see Monokuma absolutely wrecking it on bass, or really any sort of instrument. Someone needs to give Ibuki a fanmade execution, and it's just Monokuma absolutely SHREDDING an electric guitar, ala Guitar Hero. Next up, Junko as Karnak. Karnak is a lot kinder than Junko would be in this position. I feel like she would relish the despair of knowing when other people would die, including when she herself would die. In this AU, she'd probably set this little game up, not out of the want to give someone another chance at life, but in order to see the other's desperation. She'd still give that chance to whoever won, but I could totally see her just adding new rules to spite the contestants. It'd be like one big trial 6, where everyone else is having a crisis, and she's just being silly.

These two are a dynamic duo and would absolutely ruin everyone's days, lmao.

Next to be discussed, Nagito as Noel Gruber. One look at this guy, and if you're familiar with Noel, there's really no analysis needed. I can see it in my mind's eye, Nagito in his little Remnant get-up, doing the absolute MOST for Noel's Lament. He's a little diva, and we love him for that.

I know I teased it, and I swear this really isn't a spoiler, but Noel, given the title of 'the most romantic boy in town', is gay, a nihilist, and has fantasies of being a hooker named Monique Gibeau in post-war France. Like Noel, Nagito is very hung up on his particular ideals, to an near infamous degree. Nagito definitely goes further with his devotion to hope, but in all fairness, Noel also isn't a war criminal. In this AU, I could totally see Nagito absolutely just rolling with whatever is happening, no matter how absurd. He probably wouldn't even want to win the second chance at life, believing someone else is probably more deserving of it. He'd have fun with the whole situation, and be an absolute showstopper.

The more I rant about Nagito, the more I understand how much he needs some serious therapy, STAT.

Next up, Kaito as Ricky Potts. Ricky is disabled, having been mute while alive, and used crutches to help him walk. Despite this, he's 'the most imaginative boy in town', and he has a wonderful fascination with outer space, as described in 'Space Age Bachelor Man'. Yep, that song is only about space, nothing else, please believe me, I'm totally not lying to you.

Obviously, Kaito is all about space. I've also seen people equate Kaito's illness when comparing him to Ricky, but I will not comment further, as I do not feel like I have the knowledge to accurately do so. Jumping more to character, Kaito is a very encouraging and friendly presence in v3. He takes Shuichi under his wing, being his close friend and helping him get better and more confident. Ricky does something similar with Jane, not treating her as a monster like the others, and seeming to really try and understand her as a peer. Ricky is a very selfless character (for reasons I will not spoil) and so is Kaito. Kaito participated in Kokichi's plan in chapter 5, without the intent to survive for himself, but in order to help the others. He got the last laugh in death, passing away from his illness and not Monokuma's execution, and effectively setting off a chain of events that led to the end of v3's game. In this AU, I don't see there being many changes, just maybe more confidence and brashness like Kaito.

Leon as Mischa is a really fun choice. Mischa, a Soundcloud rapper, and known as 'the angriest boy in town', is a very fun fit for Leon. Admittedly, I'm not the biggest Leon expert, but I really liked him in THH, and I think his voice actor did a phenomenal job the entire time he was on my screen. The only acceptable ginger /j

Leon has aspirations of being a musician, and so does Mischa. Leon admits in a free-time event that he's pursuing that pathway to get more girls, and Mischa is a self-described 'passionate lover'. However, like Mischa, I think Leon has a genuine desire to pursue music, as School Mode suggests that he sees baseball as a launching point for his music career.

The songs he'd get would be 'This Song Is Awesome', and 'Talia', which could be about whatever Leon ship you want. For my purposes, I will assume it's Sayaka, since I don't really ship him with anyone. Leon can be both aggressive and passionate, as well as friendly. Both characters can also be seen as stereotypically aggressive, but underneath those more intimidating surfaces, they're really nice people. Mischa is supportive of the other contestants, and makes the effort to make everyone feel included and happy. In this AU, Leon would still fight for that second chance, but I could also see some chivalry in how he handles himself.

When Leon died in the anime, I was near tears, give that voice actor an Oscar. No matter your opinion on Danganronpa, you must admit that the voice actors bring their A-game.

I think pulling Ruruka from the anime as Ocean is an INSPIRED choice. I'll be honest, first time around, I did not like Ruruka. She reminded me of every self-centered, fake person I've ever come into contact with. Second time around however, I found myself really seeing her, and understanding her mindset. Yes, she's still a bad friend, certified, but everything leading up to her death later-on in the anime really made her impactful. I know that I have felt similar sentiments regarding the friends I've made, and I do see where she's coming from in certain areas.

Same with Ocean, as much as Ocean is self-centered, she's also just a kid. A kid who died only a few hours ago, and is being faced with the chance to get a second chance to do all that she wanted to do. She's only seventeen, and didn't even leave her hometown, it's sad and I can see how potent her desperation is. Granted, she doesn't go about it in the best way, Social Darwinism is not a take I can get behind. Ocean's desperation is reminiscent of late-anime Ruruka, willing to betray the people closest to her in order to ensure her own safety. Like Ruruka in earlier episodes, such as ones where she's shown as a little girl, you can see how kind she sees herself as. I think her and Seiko's relationship was one that could've thrived and been great, if Ruruka respected boundaries. Ocean eventually starts to get better through the show, apologizing genuinely to her friends, and even towards Jane, who she'd been very wary of.

I wish we could've seen more of Ruruka, I think she has the seeds of a very nuanced character within her, and it's just underutilized. Though, I doubt she's 'What The World Needs'.

Uh oh, it's big rant time. I haven't talked about Chiaki during Dangantober yet, but Chiaki is my friend's favorite character, so of course I know a lot about her. I also really like Constance, she's my second favorite, after Jane. Constance, called 'the nicest girl in town', is a girl who had grown bored of life. She had no aspirations to go anywhere beyond Uranium, but also didn't want to stay in her hometown. Over the course of the story, she gains an appreciation for the little things in life, like pizza nights, holidays, hanging out with her family, and most notably, how pretty the sky looked when she was falling to her death.

Chiaki, mainly talking about her when she's alive, not an AI, is definitely one of the kinder characters in Danganronpa. She's the only one who seems to take an interest in hanging out with Hajime, who's merely a reserve course student in the anime. Despite his lack of an ultimate, she still looks forward to hanging out with him at the school fountain, and playing video games. As an AI, Chiaki grows to have an appreciation for all the things in life, and grows to love the people around her. Imagine being the Chiaki AI, knowing what these people have done, and yet still caring for them.

Constance, despite being mistreated by her best friend Ocean, can't really bring herself to hate Ocean. She eventually tells her off in the show, but she never cuts anything off. Constance grew to appreciate life, which harkens back to the most heartbreaking Chiaki moment for me.

''All I wanted, was to play video games with you, one last time..."

Curse you Kodaka, for making me hear that at 2AM on a Thursday night.

Constance's song is what makes me the closest to crying, that and the ending. Sugar Cloud is a celebration of her realization of the beauty of life, and how she now appreciates what she had and got to experience. I could talk about Chiaki all day, let's be real here.

I can hear you all already. "WE GET IT MOD TSUMUGI, YOU LIKE HAJIME!" Yeah well, he's my favorite, and so is Jane Doe. Told you guys he'd get talked about over and over again.

Anyways, Hajime is a very good fit for Jane. I'll try not to spoil, but it may be difficult from here on out, so proceed with caution. First of all, it's heavily implied that Jane was part of the choir, yet no one remembered her. This is like Hajime being a reserve course student, he's at Hope's Peak with everyone else, but he's more on the outside looking in. Very few people actually take note of him. He wants a talent so badly that he undergoes the Kamukura Project, and effectively, Hajime is erased to make way for Izuru. Like Jane, that original identity is forgotten, for this new one that people regard as a bit more intimidating, despite not inherently being so.

I'm referring to this one comic where Izuru is just a helpful guy who just so happens to be helping the wrong side in the canon timeline of events.

This is an image from an official, I believe non-canon or semi-canon comic.

Jane wants to know who she was originally, mourning the fact that she will never know in "The Ballad of Jane Doe" (which actually isn't a ballad, it's a lament, and Noel's Lament is actually a ballad). Over the course of the show, everyone begins to warm up to her, as much as they can when she's got a headless doll in her arms and the doll's head perched on her neck but hey.

This initially looks like a surface level choice, they both entirely lose themselves and they're the only ones in common like that. But both Izuru and Jane can be considered shells of people, as the very things that made them who they were originally, are just gone, with no real way of retrieving them.

As much as you can claim Hajime comes back to himself at the end of SDR2, technically, he's merely an amalgamation of what could be recovered and remembered about him. The original Hajime is truly gone, and what's left are the bits and pieces that could be found. Jane and Hajime, through circumstances largely not in their plan, had everything taken from them.

They both make my heart sad, and yet, I love both Jane and Hajime/Izuru. There's literally so much that could be said, but my fingers are going NUMB so better wrap this up. Please send asks if you want more elaboration.

THIS IS A SPOILER --->: Also they both have their stories end similarly too, with Jane getting a second chance at life, and Hajime/Izuru getting to sort of meld together, both become people again.

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When I first watched RTC by myself on a Saturday night instead of being out with friends, I didn't expect it to really be worth my time. I had heard a lot of the songs already from TikTok, so I believed the show was pure, unadulterated nonsense. I was very wrong, and the show made me laugh, cry, and stare at my wall with existential dread. I definitely recommend it for those of you out there who haven't seen or listened to RTC. You may THINK you know what to expect, but trust me, it's a rollercoaster of emotions. Teehee, I made a pun. Anyways, here is my ranking of the songs in RTC, that literally no one asked for <3

[sleepyvirgilprompts]

Sitting there, finally, Virgil was warm and full and safe. And, he noticed with muted surprise, absolutely fucking exhausted.

How had he not realized until then? Well, it made sense. Of course he was tired. Still, though, to not notice at all... But for once, he didn't worry about it for long. No, before long, he had fallen fast asleep.