#oh i do want to harm the seagulls when THEY wake me up. but i don’t do it obviously

[fingertipsmp3]

I really do think I need to work on the fact that whenever I don’t get enough sleep and/or am prematurely awoken by something I act like a fucking banshee

[paterson-blue]

Shadow of the Sea: Chapter 1

Summary: Kylo is used to being alone. It's how he's survived this long, in the cold ocean depths. He can take care of himself. Other creatures--other merfolk--are dangerous; he has the scars to prove it. Humans, however, are the worst of all. But one day, Kylo finds he has no other choice but to turn to one for help. The human he meets is nothing like he expects, and all he knows is he wants more. Is he willing to pay the price?

Word Count: 4,394

Warnings: fem!AFAB!reader, plot set up, kylo ren needs a hug confirmed, non-graphic descriptions of violence & bodily harm, brief mentions of blood & wounds, very vague medical descriptions lol, minor character death (happens off screen), oh but there's also one that happens on screen but it's brief, big time ocean nostalgia from your dear author— let me know if I need to add anything else!

A/N: Thank you @paper-n-ashes for beta reading! Icon behavior tbh.

Prefer AO3? I gotcha!

Kylo prided himself on his independence—his ferocity, his ability to fight his way out of every corner. His body was scarred and battle-hardened, but that didn’t matter. It was proof he was a survivor, and it’s not like he had anyone around him to care about his appearance. Most creatures he saw took one look at his massive form and ran.

He was intimidating, all muscle, his fins torn from previous fights. While his skin was pale, his scales were an onyx color; it made blending into the ocean depths easier. He couldn’t understand why merfolk’s standard of beauty was a brightly colored tail; didn’t it make camouflaging more difficult?

He guessed most merfolk didn’t care about that. They lived in large groups, colorful and cheerful and busy amongst other plant and animal life. Not many delved into the cold, murky areas Kylo had made his home. But he’d been there as long as he could remember, and there was no sense in changing things. He wouldn’t be welcome in the warmer waters anyway. They didn’t want him, and he didn’t want them.

So he kept away, and no one dared bother him. Those that did quickly learned not to. He had killed many creatures, and while it was all in defense, his reputation still preceded him. After all, he’d once fought one of the most dangerous predators the ocean knew, and he’d won.

He’d killed a human, after they’d captured him in their net. He’d overpowered them easily, yanked them from their boat into the water; he hadn’t even flinched when their little fishing knife plunged into his side. He’d watched with a furious gaze as the air left their lungs, their pathetic struggling eventually ceasing. Then he’d calmly cut himself loose from the netting. The knife wound had scarred over, but it was just one more to add to his collection.

Yes, Kylo prided himself on his abilities. He had no fear, no weakness; he never ran from a fight.

He was running now.

He’d been foolish. He should have realized why his normal hunting grounds had been so devoid of fish for the past few days—he should have seen the signs, should have been more careful. But hunger makes you desperate; makes you stupid. He hadn’t been paying attention, too focused on the singular fish he’d found.

It seemed to happen all at once. A sudden blow to his head that left him reeling, pain shooting through his skull as he whips himself around in attempts to find his attacker. A searing burn in his side the exact moment he feels a sharp pinch at the back of his neck. His head starts to spin with confusion, the scent of his own blood in the water.

He spots a figure out of the corner of his eye, and his heart leaps into his throat. It was a human, and they had some sort of weapon pointed right at him.

Kylo doesn’t think—he just bolts. They don’t seem to follow him at first, and he doesn’t understand why until he starts to feel the first symptoms of whatever they’ve injected him with. It makes him dizzy, makes his vision start to blur as a sickening metallic taste fills his mouth.

No, he thinks. I won’t let them do this.

He pulls strength from deep within and pushes himself to swim faster, farther. He hears a muffled shout from behind, and oh, they’re pursuing him now.

He swims frantically, skirting around rocks and through kelp forests, desperately trying to lose them even though he thinks he might hear the dull thrum of a boat motor over the thudding of blood in his ears. Kriff, he was so tired. It would be so easy to let the human magic overtake him, to sink to the ocean floor.

Was this death? A dreamless sleep that crept over your senses until you had no choice but to succumb to it? Kylo doesn’t want to die, not like this. Not where they can get to him, at least.

He doesn’t know where he’s going, doesn’t even know where he is until he catches a quick glimpse of a familiar rock formation. His mind is in shambles, drugged and panicked, lacking oxygen as his gills burn with the strain of his labored breathing.

A cove. Not too far from here. Too shallow for a boat, too rocky for humans. A cave to shelter in. Go, swim, fast, now, now, go.

The voice in his head doesn’t feel like his own—it’s frantic, urgent, thoughtless. Usually he was so composed, controlled. The threat of death had turned him into nothing more than an animal; he’s never felt so small.

He ducks and weaves as he swims towards the hidden cove, trying to convince himself he’s doing it on purpose and not just fading in and out of consciousness. If he can just stay awake a little longer, if he can just make it to that kriffing cave, he can die with dignity. Alone and cold, drugged and bleeding, but away from the humans trying to hurt him.

Kylo nearly loses his speed when he breeches the shallow waters of the cove, his mind wanting to shut down now that he’s made it. He forces himself to keep going despite his nausea and lightheadedness. His lungs are screaming, muscles aching; he scrapes his tail against the rocky outcroppings as he searches frantically for the mouth of the underwater cave.

It’s here, it’s here. I know it’s here, I’ve seen it, I mapped it. Where is it?!

His hands snag against an opening, just barely big enough for him to squeeze through, and he darts into it. It’s a tight fit, and for a brief second Kylo is terrified he’ll get stuck and pass out from whatever the humans hit him with—he’ll die, trapped, never to be found.

But then, quick as a flash, he’s through to the other side. The small tunnel opens up into a larger cavern, protected from the elements and decorated with several pools of varying depths. He’d explored it once, curious, thinking it would be a nice place to hide. It was a little too close to humanity for his comfort, but then again he’d never seen this area very populated. He’d figured he’d keep it in the back of his mind for later.

Turns out later was now.

Kylo pulls himself to the edge of the main and deepest pool, looking around urgently through spotty vision. There was a pool in the corner, half hidden by rocks—it looked shallow, but just deep enough to be submerged. Exhaling fast, he hauls himself up and out of the water, coughing and choking as his body tries to adjust from using his gills to his mouth and nose to breathe. It was never an easy transition, and he hated doing it, but right now it was what he needed.

He growls to himself as he pulls his heavy body along the rough stone cave floor, his normally nimble tail a dead weight. If he wasn’t about to faint, he thinks he’d be a bit more graceful. By the time he rolls unceremoniously into the shallow pool, his palms are all scraped up and bleeding. He doesn’t care; barely feels the sting. He’s not really feeling much of anything at this point, head spinning out of control.

Laying like this on his back, head propped up against the ledge of the pool, Kylo gazes up at the jagged rock ceiling. His lungs crackle as he heaves in breaths, heart still pounding loudly. It’s hard to hear anything else, and he wonders again if his attackers are closing in on him. Does it even matter? His dying mind questions. He doesn’t have an opportunity to think of a retort before his body finally breaks, and he succumbs to the drug induced sleep.

—————————————————————

You wake to the familiar sounds of distant crashing waves, whistling wind, and calls of seagulls. After years on the island, the noise was a comfort.

You’d grown up here, in this same cottage by the sea--been raised fishing, hunting for mussels, searching through tide pools. You and your siblings would bike into town to sell your wares at the local market before heading down to the pier to watch the boats come and go. It was a simple life, sometimes a little isolated, but it was good nonetheless. You loved the island and the ocean, and held great respect for them both. If you honor them, they will honor you--at least, that’s what your mother always said.

Your siblings grew up and moved to the mainland, but still you stayed. Got yourself a little apartment in town above the local grocery, worked at the marina as a clerk, and visited your parents on the weekends. When your mother passed, your father followed just weeks later—a broken heart, everyone said. Suddenly, your beloved little slice of heaven—of home—belonged to you.

So you moved back into the cottage you grew up in, a place haunted by the ghosts of memories and the sounds of the sea. If you’re being honest with yourself, you wouldn’t trade it for the world, no matter how many times you pretend to entertain your siblings’ urging to rent the place out. Think of all the money you’d make. It’s the perfect vacation spot.

Maybe so, but you don’t care. You don’t want strangers in your home—not those tourists who come to fawn over the village, who eat up the landscape with cameras without really seeing it, who gawk at the fishermen, who laugh at the prices at the market. They would probably call your cottage quaint and cute. You could picture them tittering over your family photos on the mantle, over the door frame where heights had been marked over the years.

Tourists, who both long for and pity an isolated life on the ocean. Oh, they have it so easy here, away from the stress of the city. Oh, could you imagine living this way, barely scraping by?

No, you didn’t want them in your home, a place so sacred. You didn’t care what money you were missing out on—you got by fine with your pay from the marina, and picking up shifts at the local cafe. You loved your cottage—savored every creaky floorboard, every leaky windowsill. The drip of the bathroom faucet, the howl of the sea wind through the chimney—these were the sounds of familiarity, of safety. No one would appreciate them like you did.

Twisting around in bed, you turn your gaze towards the open window that was letting in a fresh, salty breeze. It was early, the light still dim and grey, the air a little chilly. It makes you want to curl back up under your covers, catch a couple more hours of shut-eye. It was your day off, after all; you could afford to sleep in.

Except.

You sigh, scrubbing your hands over your face as you remember what your yesterday brain had planned. You’d told yourself you’d get up in order to gather mussels at low tide. There were plenty of tide pools around, especially in the caved area of the cove. It was your family’s little secret—the hidden grotto was all but invisible from the outside. The only reason you even knew about it was because your brother had been too adventurous for his own good as a child, always getting into places he shouldn’t.

Mussels, clams, seaweed, probably fish in the deeper tide pools—maybe some sea urchin you could sell at the market. Your stomach growls.

Well, that’s that.

Groaning, you haul yourself up and out of bed, wincing at the cold hardwood on your bare feet. You bounce on your toes, shivering, goosebumps appearing on your skin as you pad over to close the window. Despite growing up here, you were always surprised at the temperature. You stubbornly let in the breeze at night, all bundled up under your covers, pretending when you woke it would be nice and warm.

But nope, not here; even in the dead of summer the mornings were chilly. Sometimes you dreamed that you lived on one of those big, luxurious, heated beaches—hot sun and white sand as far as the eye could see, no craggy cliffs or rocky shores. Eh. You probably wouldn’t like it much anyway, too used to your own environment.

Glancing at the clock, you quickly throw on some warm clothes, half-assing your regular morning routine before grabbing your tide-pool hunting essentials: a flashlight, knee-high waders, a large bucket, and your trusty fishing knife. You take a deep breath at the front door, bracing yourself for the chill. Just think of the feast you’ll have later. And you can reward yourself with a hot bath and long nap.

It’s not too long a distance from the cottage to the rocky shoreline, and while the low tide has revealed the tempting sand leading towards the rolling waves, you head towards the jagged outcropping to the left. Years of following the same path means it doesn’t take you long at all to find the hidden entrance and carefully make your way into the cavern.

In the middle of a sunny day, light shone in through various cracks in the ceiling, glinting off the water and creating flickering reflections against the stone walls. Sometimes you came here just to think, or to take a dip in the largest pool. The water was always warmer here, protected from the full power of the currents by the rock face.

Now, however, it was dark—only the dimmest bit of grey morning light trickled in. You flick on the flashlight, humming softly to yourself. The melody echoes off the stone walls, and you set your bucket down at the closest tide pool, readying yourself to hunker down and get to work. The beam of the light scans the various pools as you turn to get your knife from its holder, and something catches your eye. It’s not much, and honestly if you weren’t so familiar with the cave you probably wouldn’t have noticed the dark shape in the far corner pool.

At first, you do a double take, eyes sweeping over the little red-tinged puddles on the floor. Blood. You grip your knife, mind racing with possibilities. Was there someone in here with you? Surely not. No one ever came out here. Swallowing hard, you take a couple steps towards the corner, torch in one hand and knife in the other. As you get closer, your gaze tracks the diluted blood trail into the pool, and at first all you notice is the black scales and fins of a fish. The grip on your knife loosens just a little, the fear of a possible threat fading.

It's a big animal, you can tell that even as you make your way over, and you wonder idly how it got in. You knew, logically, that the cave connected to the ocean somehow, but you can't imagine the tide being so high for a fish as large as this one to find its way into the back corner. You’re focused on this conundrum as you round the ledge that’s been shielding the animal from your full view--so much so that it takes you more than a couple moments for your mind to compute just what it's seeing.

The tail is thick and muscular, decorated in obsidian scales that lead to delicate looking fins at the bottom. There were smaller, fan looking fins on the sides of the tail--they were all ripped up, as if they had been torn in previous fights. Your brain clocks all of this in seconds but doesn’t dwell, because it’s focused on the top half of the animal--creature--merman.

Merman. A fucking merman.

The ebony scales at the waist fade seamlessly into pale skin and lean muscle, revealing a long, firm torso. If you weren’t so aware of the tail, you might--might--think he could pass for human. Well, except for the webbed fingers and razor-sharp nails adorning each of his hands. He’s half submerged in the water of the pool, dark hair covering part of his face so you can’t see it.

You stand there, frozen, staring, not quite knowing what to do. You weren’t… scared; weren’t even very surprised aside from the initial shock of seeing him. You’d grown up hearing stories, traditions, tales—it was more than folklore here on the island. Some of the elders believed in merfolk more than ghosts, more than aliens, more than god.

Mr. Mackenzie told tales of mermaids luring in his shipmates as prey, drowning them. You always thought they were just stories designed to scare children away from dangerous tides—and maybe they were. But other accounts, you weren’t so sure of.

It was the wonder on Ms. Fraser’s face when she recounted the long-ago memory of swimming along sandbars with a girl who could breathe underwater. It was the quiet reverence of Mr. McDougall’s voice when he whispered about removing an old fish hook from a merman’s tail. It was the tears in Mrs. Buchanan’s eyes when she insisted merfolk rescued her husband from a fishing boat wreck.

You believed them. You always had, even if you’d done it silently, bashfully. You knew those who still made offerings to the ocean and to the beings that dwelled within the depths. Your island community believed in things not seen, but passed down through generations of storytelling. It was your history, kept alive despite first hand encounters becoming few and far between.

Except, here it was—your own little slice of history, right in front of you. If you took a couple more steps, you could reach out and touch it.

Is he breathing?

The little voice in your head brings you back down to your body, and a sudden fear overtakes you. You can’t let him die—if he was even still alive to begin with. You glance nervously at the pinkish trail of blood leading to the pool; the sight makes you reach some sort of resolve.

Hyper-aware of the claws on his hands, you kneel down beside him, hesitating only briefly before you settle your hand on his large bicep. He doesn’t stir, and your stomach twists unpleasantly. Your hand slides down to his wrist, and while you can admit you aren’t an expert on merfolk anatomy, surely you’ll be able to feel a pulse from the spidery blue veins under his pale skin.

Relief washes over you in a wave when you do, indeed, find a pulse—slow, but strong. Okay, not dead then. Still, he doesn’t move, so you take it upon yourself to move his damp hair out of his face, curling it behind his prominent ears.

He’s handsome.

You feel yourself flush, immediately chastising yourself for the thought. This was—best case scenario—a complete stranger who was wounded and in possible danger. Worst case scenario… you didn’t want to think about. Needless to say, it was no time to be thinking about his level of attractiveness.

You force yourself back into action, cupping his head as you hold your hand under his nose. His breathing is steady, and you gently lay his head back where it rested on the rock ledge. Your fingertips brush against something, and you frown as you realize he has a lump on the back of his skull—as if he’s been hit. You can only hope it hasn’t done too serious damage; it wasn’t like you could really take him to the hospital.

Your attention moves down his body, and you make yourself bypass the gills in his neck in order to properly gauge his wounds. Minor cuts and scrapes littered his skin; from the number of scars decorating his form, you figure these aren’t a big deal, no matter how nasty they look. Not compared to the gash on his side, at least.

You wince when you see it, the delicate flesh torn open and ragged. The cut makes you think it’s from some man-made weapon, and you shake your head in disbelief. Who would want to harm a merman? Around here, it would be blasphemous to do such a thing.

Blood no longer seeps from the wound; you hope that’s a good sign—and that the salt water has somewhat cleaned the area. You think it may have needed stitches, but you’re no doctor with the ability to do such a procedure. If you're being honest with yourself, it’s probably far too late for stitches anyway. The wound would be another nasty scar, likely similar to the one marring his face, but the area isn’t red with infection. That’s a good sign, right?

You sigh, feeling helpless. You want to do something for the creature. There’s only one thing you can really think of. Chewing on your bottom lip, you study his face again. He still seems unresponsive, and you can only hope he stays that way a little longer.

The short trek back up to your home feels the longest it’s ever been, and your legs and lungs are burning by the time you rush through the front door, having run the entire way. You heave in breaths as you pack some supplies into a bag. It wasn’t much, but you should be able to use the waterproof gauze and antibiotic ointment to dress the nasty-looking scrapes on his hands and chest.

You hesitate for a moment before going into your bathroom and grabbing the waterproof pillow you had in the tub. Maybe it was silly, but you hated thinking about him lying on the hard ground for fuck knows how long. You almost grab some food for him—maybe the fish currently thawing in your fridge—but you decide not to. You weren’t sure what he ate, and there was no telling when he’d wake up anyway.

Your breathing has just settled back to normal by the time you’re jogging back to the cave, careful not to slip on any of the wet grass and rocks. The sun starts to peak out of the morning clouds, letting pale beams of light warm the grey morning. The cavern is illuminated slightly better when you enter; you find you can lay the flashlight at a distance and see just fine.

The merman is still asleep, and you feel a little relieved. You aren’t exactly sure what will happen when he wakes up—for all you know, you’ll return later in the day to find him gone. As it is, you plop down next to the pool he was in and get to work patching him up the best you can.

Taking the towel you brought with you, you dab at his scrapes, trying to dry them a little before applying the ointment and then carefully using the gauze to cover the wounds. His palms are so torn up that you wrap them completely, your brows knitted the entire time. It must hurt, but still, he doesn’t stir.

Finally, you’re left with the gash in his side. You debate with yourself as to whether you should cover it or not—if you even can. The front of his torso was out of the water with the way he was laying, but that could change at any second, and any real pressure on his body would cause him to sink into the pool.

Your urge to help him wins out in the end, and you decide you’ll try to bandage it to protect it from any further irritation, despite knowing water would seep in regardless. You lean forward, extra careful not to lose your balance as you pat at his pale skin with the towel once more. It’s an awkward angle and slow work, you trying your best to be gentle with him.

You add as much ointment as you dare to the bandaging, not wanting to put too much onto an open wound, before fixing the gauze to his torso with some waterproof medical tape. There. Sure, it wasn’t going to work a miracle but at this point you weren’t sure what else to do.

He’ll be okay, you tell yourself. He’ll be okay.

You take a moment to watch the rise and fall of his chest, reassured by the movement. Your gaze again drifts to his tail in fascination—you hope that, maybe, you’ll come back later and he’ll be awake. Maybe he’ll be friendly, maybe the two of you can talk. It’s illogical, you know. This wasn’t some fairytale, this was real life. You honestly just hoped he didn’t try to rip you to shreds on sight.

It’s with this thought in mind that you shift away from him, telling yourself you can’t sit and watch him all day. You have several other pools to collect mussels from, breakfast to cook, chores to do. You’ve done enough, and you have to trust that his body will do the rest—you refuse to entertain the idea that he might not make it.

Sighing, you pull yourself further away, but then remember the pillow you’d brought along. You grab it quickly before shuffling back towards him. He’s got a large lump of seaweed shoved haphazardly under his head in what you assume was a desperate attempt to soften the rock face underneath.

His damp hair is surprisingly soft when you gently lift his head to clear the ground of debris. You can’t help but run your fingers through it gently, brushing it behind his ears, almost trying to soothe his subconscious. You settle the small foam pillow in place, and slowly let his head and neck rest against it. You hope it makes some sort of difference, though you know it might be a childish thought.

Your task finished, you force yourself away from him once more, even though you suddenly ache to continue touching him. Picking up your things, you continue on your mission of prying mussels from each tidepool. You move slower and quieter than you normally would, shooting the merman furtive glances every few seconds.

By the time you’re finished with the last pool, you can’t find an excuse to linger any longer. He was as safe as he was going to be. The only thing left to do now was wait. You spare your new charge one last lingering look, then grab your things and head back to the house.

______________________________________________________________

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[captcas]

Something to Hold Onto by captcas

Emma Swan has always had two superpowers. First, she can always tell when you’re lying. Second, she can retreat into the magical storybook she was found with to visit her fictional friend, Killian Jones. When Emma gives the book up, she wonders if she’ll ever see Killian again. read on ao3

Phoenix, AZ; November, 2000

Pregnant?

Emma slides down the tile wall of the Shell bathroom. Usually she’d do everything in her power to avoid touching anything in a gas station restroom. Right now she can’t find it in herself to care about the amount of infectious diseases she’s being exposed to, her eyes fixed on the two pink lines that just threatened to change her entire life.

Threatened? More like promised.

She jumps when she hears a knock on the door, “Ems? You ok?”

It isn’t until she wipes the tears from her cheeks that she realizes she’s started to cry. Neal knocks again, “Ems! You good?”

Clearing her throat, she musters up the will to answer, “Yeah, uh, just a minute.”

She scrambles for her backpack, desperate for an escape she’s not entirely confident will be there.

It’s been too long.

When her fingers touch the cool leather of the mysterious book that has somehow woven its way into every important moment in her life, a sense of calm overwhelms her. She knows that avoiding her problem isn’t going to change anything, but right now, she couldn't care less. As she settles in her lap, the positive pregnancy test laying the floor in her periphery, she thinks back to the first time it allowed her to escape.

Des Moines, IA; 1989

Emma hears footsteps coming from down the hall and quickly pulls her blanket over her head. She hates the way it makes it hard to breathe but she also fears what’ll happen to her if she gets caught up past curfew again. She holds her breath as the door creaks open and doesn’t move again until the door shuts and the footsteps walk away. Coming out from under the covers, she takes a deep breath of fresh air. Once she’s sure no one else in her bunk is awake, Emma pulls the thick, leather book out from underneath her bed. This book is one of the only things her parents left her; a book, a blanket, and a name. Ever since she could read, and even before, if her foster parents were kind enough, she’s poured into these stories– escaping reality for ogres, pirates, princesses, and true love. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear the stories almost seem ever changing and expanding. She never has to choose what to read, the book opening and picking a story for her– although she finds herself partial to the updates of the young Snow White.

Tonight she opens to a brand new story titled “The Brothers Jones”. She’s never heard of this fairytale, but that’s how most of these stories start out until they twist and turn into well-known characters from movies that the other kids watch to pass time. It seems rather short, but Emma doesn’t mind, especially seeing as it’s way past her dictated bedtime. She hunkers down into her pillow and begins…

Once upon a time there were two brothers. Liam, the eldest, was outgoing and mature, helping their parents around the house and picking up odd jobs around town to help with trips to the market. Killian, on the other hand, was quiet and kind. He often found himself staying home to take care of their mother. At ten years of age he was too young to get a real job, so their father, Brennan, and Liam took care of earning money in hopes to keep their mother alive.

One night, Killian’s mother took a turn for the worse, her breathing slowing until it stopped. The family gathered around, comforting one another over the loss of Alice.

The following days seemed like a blur for the family, preparations for her funeral taking up most of their time. When the day finally came, the Jones boys were distraught. Her burial became too much for young Killian so he took off to the one place which could calm his worries, Brennan and Liam calling after him as he ran. Liam wanted to go after his younger brother but Brennan stopped him, urging him to give Killian some space.

Emma pauses for a second, shining her flashlight over the picture of the two boys which accompanies the start of the story. Her finger traces over the face of the younger one, she thinks to herself that she wishes she could meet this Killian. She glances a moment longer and turns back to the story…

Killian ends up by the docks, his legs moving on their own accord. He finds an empty slip and decides to sit on the end of the pier, crying over the loss of his mother.

Emma suddenly feels as though she’s drifting to sleep. The words seem to be floating off the page and wrapping themselves around her. When a flash of light surrounds her, Emma is sure she’s dreaming. She shuts her eyes in fear, unsure of where this dream is taking her.

Suddenly, her bare feet hit cold ground. She shivers, still too scared to open her eyes, her hands acting as a makeshift blindfold. She hears what sounds like a seagull and smells what she can only imagine is the sea. It’s a comforting quiet disrupted by the soft sound of someone crying. In a quick bout of bravery, the young girl opens one eye. Gasping, she removes her other hand from her face and her eyes grow wide. Sitting in front of her is Killian Jones, the boy from the storybook. She hesitates, but slowly walks towards him. She now knows he’s the source of the quiet sniffling and pauses, unsure she should bother him. Before she can turn around and explore more of her dreamworld, Killian looks over his shoulder and wipes his runny nose on his hand. He looks at her intently, and Emma is drawn to the deep blue of his eyes which seem to shine brighter through his tears. His eyebrows curve in confusion and he speaks, “Who are you?”

His voice is the most beautiful thing Emma has ever heard. His accent is unlike anything she’s heard before, but it’s melodic and reminds her of her favorite song. She hesitates to respond, but somehow feels comforted by his presence. “I’m… I’m Emma. Are you… Killian?”

His eyebrows shoot to his hairline but he gives her a soft smile, “Yes, miss. I’m sorry I don’t recognize you, I’ve never seen you here before.” He scratches behind his ear as she struggles to explain where she came from.

She’s sure she can say anything, she’ll wake up in the morning and Killian Jones will remain the figment of imagination he is, so she’s honest. “Oh! I’m not from here. I’m from Iowa! Well, at least I’m from Iowa right now…”

“Iowa?” Killian questions her once again. “I’ve never heard of such a place. I don’t get to travel much. Is it close to here?”

Emma decides to sit down next to him, both of their legs swinging over the dark water. “I think I’m pretty far from home. One minute I was reading in my bed and the next I was standing behind you.” Emma flinches at her own honesty but reminds herself it can do no harm. She’s finding peace in this dreamworld, she almost feels as though she has a friend.

“Well, Emma, I don’t know how you’re here but I’m afraid you’ve caught me at a bad moment.” He hangs his head, fiddling with a hangnail on his left hand.

“Your mother…” Emma says it in barely a whisper but Killian hears it all the same. She clasps her hands over her mouth.

“How did you––” He looks afraid of her and she hates it.

“Killian, I––,” She reminds herself again he’s just a dream, “The book I was reading… you were–– are a character in it. That’s how I knew your name, and about your mom. I also know about your brother, Li––”

“Killian? Is that you? Killian!” Emma is cut off by who she can only assume is Liam looking for his little brother. She scoots a bit away from him and hides her face in embarrassment while he turns to talk to his brother. Confusion was etched across Killian’s face before they were interrupted.

“Aye, Liam. It’s me. I’m sorry for running, it’s just… mother… she––” Killian is practically toppled over by a hug from Liam.

“I understand, Killian.” Liam looks as though he’s been crying but smiles and rubs his brother’s head. “I’m just glad you’re safe.” It’s then that he notices Emma. “Brother, who is this?”

Killian’s neck heats up with blush and Emma has to suppress a giggle. “Liam, this is Emma of Iowa.”

Emma chuckles loudly this time and Liam looks a bit confused but brushes it off quickly, “Ah, hello Emma. I hope my little brother hasn’t burdened you with our troubles too much. Where is your family?”

Killian mumbles something that sounds like “younger brother” and Liam smirks slightly. She supposes it’s something between siblings and ignores the ache for a family that lives deep in her soul. Emma snaps out of her melancholy to answer, “Oh, um, they’re at home.” She shoots a look at Killian, urging him to help her keep her secret. She once again is warring with the part of her brain which says none of this is real but shoves it down in light of Liam’s stare. “I should be going.”

Killian looks like he’s about to say something when Liam speaks, “Ah, yes, well we should be getting back to our parents as well.” Liam’s voice cracks at the word parents, but he continues his strong facade in front of his brother. “Ready, Killian?”

“Aye, I’m right behind you, brother.” Liam hesitates but turns away to leave Emma and Killian to say goodbye.

Emma speaks first, “I’m so sorry about your mother, Killian.” She looks down at her hands, she’s never had parents, but she can imagine watching one die is not easy.

“It’s ok, Emma. Liam and I will manage.” Emma can tell he’s being brave for her but she lets him continue. “You go home now, I’m sure your parents are worried.”

“I don’t have parents, I’m an orphan.” It bursts out of her before she can stop herself, her innate need to be honest with Killian taking over. She’s scowling now, ready to spit back any pity he throws her way, but when she looks up, all she sees is understanding. He nods at her.

“Will I see you again, Emma? Friends are all too rare in my life.” She smiles softly, happy to have made a friend herself.

“I hope so, Killian.” They smile at one another and she hears Liam call him from a distance. Killian nods once more and runs to his brother, glancing back over his shoulder one last time. Emma smiles, and watches him fade from sight.

As quickly as Emma landed in this world, she is back in her bed. The book sits open on her side table. She grabs it, hoping to see more of Killian’s story to add fuel for the rest of the night’s dreams. Emma is shocked at what she sees. Side by side are the text of her encounter with Killian, and a perfect sketch of the two of them sitting on the edge of the pier. Emma expects to be scared, but instead she’s comforted by the drawing of her and her new friend. She closes her book, and places it in it’s hiding spot, easily drifting off to sleep with memories of ocean air and the sound of Killian’s voice.

Phoenix, AZ; November, 2000

She hasn’t visited him since Ingrid— it’s not fair that she uses him like this, but she needs him.

And he promised. They promised.

With a deep breath, she opens the book and thinks of her friend as the warm light surrounds her and takes her away...

Sea air fills her lungs as she finds her footing– the breeze a sure sign she’s landed wherever Killian finds himself these days. She orients herself by finding the water and spots a ship coming into land– Emma would know that ship anywhere. While she can tell it’s the Jewel, the vessel’s usually regal presence seems tarnished somehow. As it nears the shoreline, she sees Killian at the helm. A smile spreads across her face before she can stop it– he always looked so at home on the water. As he nears the beach, Emma senses something different about her old friend. He’s older, each of them learning long ago moves differently in their separate worlds– almost as they need it to rather than on any set timeline– but she can’t shake the feeling there’s more to it than age.

Killian directs the crew effortlessly, not a single soul arguing with him. The ship hits land and Killian gazes over the side long enough for Emma to notice the heavy space beside him. Something’s missing– someone’s missing. It dawns on her as the ramp hits the sand… Liam.

Killian walks off the ship with a swagger she doesn’t recognize– a false confidence she’s positive only she would recognize as a front. Second guessing her decision– maybe she’d stayed away far too long– Emma reaches for the leather book. Selfishly, she takes one more look at her friend, or the man which used to be. He scans the beach with a stoic look that only falls away when he meets her gaze. A smile breaks out across her face as he runs towards her. She lets go of the book, anxious to learn more about where she is and what Kilian’s been up to. He barely says hello before she's wrapped in his arms choking up at the pure innocence of his laugh when he picks her up and twirls her around.

“Emma Swan!” Killian puts her down, swiping a soft curl from her cheek, “It’s been so long, love.”

Emma can’t speak, she’s changed since they last met, but not like him. Studying him, she releases him from her grasp and her hands trail down his arm, hesitating when her left one hits something foreign. Killian flinches and tucks it under his jacket. She’s still unable to put a finger on what’s different, but her old friend, always sure and steadfast, seems… lost. She can’t help but speak candidly, “Killian, where is Liam?”

He smirks, a mask unfamiliar to her aside from her brief glimpse of him exiting the ship, “Ah, yes, ‘fraid my brother was lost to the sea.” He gazes off before seemingly being startled into remembering her existence, “Emma! You can’t be here, it’s dangerous.”

Emma looks around for the first time since she arrived and realizes this place is unlike any portside town she’d landed in previously. “Where exactly is… here?”

If she didn’t know better– Killian Jones is not afraid of anything– she would’ve sworn she saw fear flicker across his eyes, “Best you not know. Why are you here? Is everything alright?”

His genuine concern reminds her of the pregnancy test she left in the Shell bathroom. Never one to mince words and never sure how long they truly have, Emma breaks the news abruptly, “Killian, I’m pregnant.”

Now she knows its fear– coupled with a brief flash of sadness that she doesn’t have the energy to dissect– that crosses his gaze, “Emma, ho–”

She cuts him off, she doesn’t want to answer the questions, doesn’t want to disappoint him, “It doesn’t matter. I will be ok, I just… needed to see you.”

He nods before turning to a small man in a red beanie who has hovered close by but out of earshot for the entirety of their conversation. “Smee, it will be dark soon. Gather supplies and take the crew aboard. I will return shortly.” The man nods before yelling a feeble attempt to wrangle up the rest of the crew while Killian leads Emma closer to the water’s edge. She knows there’s more to everything happening here than he’s letting on, but she also knows that if he’s not telling her, it’s with reason.

They find a small alcove, hidden from the ship, and Killian takes her in his arms swaying slowly. She can’t help but giggle, “Killian, what are you doing?”

“Just, I know you probably don’t have long, but please– before you go, just– one dance.” She nods, this tradition is one she should’ve seen coming. They danced the first time when Emma was nervous for her first homecoming dance– he taught her how to slow dance. Her next trip was to tell him she’d moved again and never gotten to go to the dance after all– so they swayed once more... that was the last time she’d visited.

As they settle into a comfortable stance, Emma feels something cold hit the small strip of skin exposed at her back. Logically she knows it should be his left hand, but the chill feels metallic. She stops herself from flinching, not at what must be a prosthetic, but at the temperature of the metal. Meeting his gaze, she can tell her lack of response comforts him briefly before the exhaustion and fear returns to his features. He forces a smile before pulling her closer— clearly, he doesn’t want to be here anymore than she wants to be home, so she dances. Killian hums quietly, a melody she’s heard many times before and often sings to herself when she needs the comfort of her friend. They don’t speak at first, the soft sound of his hum and the distant white noise of waves hitting the sand more than enough to fill the air around them.

Emma feels another wave of fear fall over her and breaks the silence, “I don’t really know how, Killian.”

He leans in closer, “It’s easy. Pick a partner who knows what he’s doing.” He winks at her and they feel like children again— twirling in fields of flowers and playing along the shoreline. For a moment, she forgets the monumental changes waiting for her at home and just tries to be happy. Killian spins her around, dipping her, and making her laugh like she hasn’t in what feels like her entire life. He slows and begins to hum a different shanty she doesn’t recognize but causes her to sway back and forth all the same. She has to stop herself from jumping when he speaks again, “I know you’re scared, Swan, but you can do this.”

Emma doesn’t tell him that she knows she can’t, that she knows Neal can’t– or that he won’t. Instead, she just savors the moment with her best friend.

Whether he’s real or fiction or an impossible dream stopped mattering long ago— Killian is always here, a constant in her inconsistent life, and that’s worth everything to Emma. She gazes into his eyes, as easy to lose herself in as the ocean, and he looks back. They’re practically nose to nose and Emma can see every scratch, bruise, and line of exhaustion that covers his face.

He’s still one of the most beautiful humans she’s ever seen.

Maybe it’s that realization that causes her to lean in ever so slightly. His eyebrow raises quickly before mimicking her movement. They have history, it’s patchy and incomplete, but it’s theirs and no matter what Emma always finds herself back in this fantasy’s arms.

He’s fiction, always has been, but he’s been an escape all the same. Emma doesn't second guess her decision to kiss him– no harm, no foul when this is all a dream anyway…

But it never comes.

Their moment is disrupted by a loud cawing noise. It almost sounds like a bird, but the way he flinches and the stoic fear that settles across Killian’s face hints that, whatever made that noise, is not to be messed with. His back stiffens beneath her hands before he moves in front of Emma. Using his left hand– no, hook– he pushes aside the tree blocking their view, “I’m sorry, Swan. You need to go. Now.” He turns back to her frantically, and with fear in his eyes growing, she has no choice but to believe him.

Her heart is beating loud enough that she's positive he can hear it too and she’s not sure if it’s the imminent danger or the fact she almost kissed him.

He’s not real, Emma.

Still, the look in his eyes fools her into playing along once again, rushing back towards his ship as darkness falls like a blanket across the beach. Emma stops him, selfishly pulling him behind a bush for just one more moment alone. “When will I see you again?” She isn’t sure why she’s asking when it’s always been up to her.

He smiles at her before pulling her tight, “Just hold onto this— to us and our parallel existences.” His right hand cups her cheek and she takes a moment to find comfort in his warmth, “You’re one of the only reasons I’m alive, Emma Swan. Let me be your something, as you are mine.”

Emma can feel herself crying now, the reality she’s returning to feeling scarier than whatever has Killian rushing her home, but he’s counting on her to survive, so she will. “I’ll see you soon, Killian.”

He smiles at her one more time, bright and hopeful, “Aye, Swan. I’ll be waiting.”

With that, she feels the warmth bubble inside of her as the light surrounds her once again and takes her back. In no time at all she’s sitting again on the dingy tile floor of a gas station in Phoenix. She holds the book close once more before putting it back in her bag. She sighs, remembering Killian’s faith in her, as she grabs the pregnancy test and goes to break the news to Neal.

As she leaves the bathroom, she’s startled by two officers with their guns drawn. As she’s told to raise her hands up, the lifted watch Neal gave her for her birthday catches the harsh fluorescent light and the positive test falls from her hand clattering against the linoleum at her feet.

Phoenix, AZ; August, 2001

“Emma, are you sure?” The doctor questions her as he wraps her crying son in a towel.

She refuses to look, the tears and sweat stinging her eyes. Emma knows if she holds the small boy, she won’t be able to give him up. The doctor turns away, placing the small boy into a bassinet behind him and Emma feels a weight lifted from her. Being given up herself, Emma swore she’d never put a child in that position, but she also never thought she’d be giving birth in prison.

The recollection of her own upbringing sparks something inside of her, “Wait!” The doctor turns around, something like hope in his eyes. Emma knows he thinks she’s changed her mind, but in reality, her decision has only been further solidified by her choice not to send him off alone. “There’s a book. In my personal belongings. It’s leatherbound and full of fairy tales– please, send it with him.”

The doctor looks at the guard who nods before sending their partner to retrieve the storybook. She’ll feel safer knowing even a piece of her— and a larger piece of Killian– will be with her son no matter where he ends up. The book made her feel like her parents at least cared enough not to send her off alone, and she hopes it provides the same comfort for her son.

It can be his something to hold onto.

Slight melancholy aches through her at the realization she’s given up her right to visit Killian ever again. She thinks he’d understand– support her even. Still, Emma smiles softly as the book is placed next to the hospital crib before drifting off where memories of distant lands keep her fast asleep.

Boston, MA; October, 2011

“Another banner year.” Emma blows out the blue star candle, and makes the simplest of birthday wishes. As she begins to unwrap the cupcake there’s a knock at the door. Startled, but curious, she opens it to a young boy looking at her like she’s standing on her head.

“Can I help you?” Emma’s had a long night, and while she could really go for some girl scout cookies, she doubts the small boy outside her door at 8pm is here to sell her any.

“Are you Emma Swan?” He tilts his head as he asks, a simple movement that Emma almost finds endearing.

“Yeah. Who are you?” She’s trying not to be impatient, but she really needs to take a shower and wash off the scum from her skip earlier that evening.

“My name is Henry. I’m your son.”

Well she wasn’t expecting that .

Storybrook, ME; 2011

Henry’s adoptive mother is– something. Regina Mills is not who Emma expected when she spent late nights picturing Henry with a family, but he has a roof over his head and everything he could ever want. And the town, Storybrook, is quaint and safe. Henry seems healthy.

What more could she have wanted for her son?

Maybe to not have the gut feeling that something— no everything — is off in this town.

Regina (aggressively) asked her to leave after dropping Henry off, but she can’t find it in herself to head back to Boston just yet. She wanders into a small diner that touts an attached inn, and the warm atmosphere is beyond inviting. Against all previous plans, she settles herself onto a stool at the bar and orders herself some hot chocolate. As she sips her drink, she takes in the rest of the diner only to realize almost everyone is looking at her. Almost. There’s a dark haired man with his back to her sitting in one of the booths. Emma finds herself fixated on him, and the fact that, unlike everyone else in the diner, he couldn’t seem to care less that she’s here.

A waitress in a short red skirt drops off soup at his table before making her way back towards Emma. “Hey, new girl. You want some food?” Startled by her forwardness, Emma responds with a stutter, “I– uh– no– I’m not– uh.. Why is everyone staring at me?”

The girl– Ruby if her name tag is anything to go by– belly laughs before answering, “Girl, we haven’t had visitors to this town in ages .” Emma isn’t sure how to take that but Ruby doesn’t seem to mind as she keeps talking, “I mean, now that I think about it, I don’t think I’ve ever had a visitor in this diner. Strictly regulars. That’s why they’re staring, hun. Not to mention, you’re pretty easy on the eyes.” She shrugs her shoulder in Emma’s direction and winks with a wolf’s smile.

She’s spunky and Emma likes her, “Well, I’m happy to be your first. Do you have any rooms?”

Ruby scoffs again, “All of them– no visitors remember? Except room 9, Sailor Boy over there has taken up permanent residence in that one.” The waitress motions towards the man in the back booth before flagging down an older woman asking for a room key.

Emma glances again at the dark haired stranger, wanting to know more, but having no real reason to strike up a conversation. Before she can approach him, she’s being handed a key and ushered up the stairs to her room by a pushy old lady that everyone seems to affectionately call Granny. She settles in for the night, her curiosity about the town and its residents only growing the longer she stays.

When she wakes up, it’s to Henry knocking on her door again. She opens to find him practically vibrating, “You stayed?!”

She can’t help but smile at his excitement, finding it hard to tamper her own, “Yeah, kid, I did. Don’t you have school or something?”

Henry smiles, “Not for another hour, wanna grab some breakfast?”

Emma nods and follows her son– not sure she’ll ever get used to that– down the stairs to grab some breakfast from the diner. They order from the counter when all the booths are full, but decide to move when one opens as their food is ready. Emma thanks Ruby, grabbing their plates of waffles, before turning towards the booth just as someone walks behind her. The plates crash to the ground, both her and the man she bumped into bending down to help with clean up. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

“My fault, lass. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

Emma knows that voice– would know it anywhere.

When she doesn’t answer, he looks up at her, concern etched across the animated eyebrows she’s known for almost her entire life. If she wasn’t positive before, she is now, the blue eyes that haunted her dreams for years after giving up the book are staring directly back at her. “Killian?”

He looks stunned, but there’s no recognition in his eyes— eerily similar to their first night so many years ago on the docks. The warmth of his gaze, the excitement at meeting once again, and the hint of infatuation Emma always stopped herself from hoping for are gone without a trace. The unsettled feeling that’s sat in Emma’s stomach since the moment she and Henry crossed the town line the night before seems to boil over. All the air feels as though it’s escaped her lungs, suffocating her as she realizes the only person she’s ever come close to calling her best friend has no idea who she is. Her fear is solidified when he speaks again, “I’m sorry, do I know you?”

@mariakov81​ @lfh1226-linda​ @kmomof4​ @superchocovian​ @pirateherokillian​ @teamhook​ @nikkiemms​

[jarienn972]

La Sirena - Chapter Two

Captain Swan Supernatural Summer 2020

Chapter Two of my @cssns​ is now here!  I used Chapter One to set up each character’s POV of how they were brought together so this chapter will officially focus on their actual introduction as shipwreck survivor Lt. Killian Jones regains consciousness, discovering that he’s traded imprisonment on a pirate ship for a deserted paradise with a beautiful woman as his sole companion.

I have to thank all of the admins and creators of this fun event that allows all of us to stretch our creativity and I especially want to extend thanks for @kmomof4​ for her wonderful beta and cheerleading assistance and to @courtorderedcake​ for the incredible artwork she created for this story!

This story can also be found on ff.net and AO3. Tumblr Chapter One 

Chapter Two - Encountering an Angel

Killian woke with a jolt, body arching upright until his throbbing head protested. He sucked in a deep breath as he settled back to the ground, clutching at the sharp pains crisscrossing his rib cage. He felt as though he'd breathed in pure fire. Had he passed through purgatory straight to the flame and brimstone of hell?

No, no - he wasn't dead. Was he?

Bits and pieces of memory flashed within his mind. A map… That cursed island… Pirates… Escaping an abandoned, sinking ship… Clinging desperately to a makeshift raft of wooden planks until he'd slipped off into the depths. And then a cascade of pure gold beckoning him to paradise… or something like that.

But would the hereafter be this painful?

Pull yourself together, Jones. Use your wits.

He was still near the sea. The gentle lapping of waves against the shore and the squawk of seagulls sounded nearby. A wafting of crisp, salty air filled his nostrils as did the earthy scents of sand and rock. There was a solid surface beneath him. He'd made his way to land somehow, but where?

But when he dared open his eyes, even the diffused sunlight filtering through the canopy of palm fronds swaying overhead assaulted his vision. Squinting and shading his gaze with his outstretched hand, he allowed his pupils a few moments to adjust before rolling himself onto his right side and propping on an elbow to survey his surroundings. He spied the shoreline from where he lay yet he was a fair distance from the water's edge, sheltered amongst a grove of date palms, cycads and a few gnarled low trees that had branches laden with what appeared to be olives. A craggy outcrop of rocks was a short distance away and the stone barrier seemed to extend all the way out towards the sea.

He couldn't remember stumbling or even crawling this far from the shore. He barely recalled reaching the beach. He'd been so weak that he couldn't possibly have made it this far without assistance… All of his senses instantly went on full alert as he realized he must not be alone on this idyllic looking isle. Someone else was here but were they friend or foe? What a ridiculous question, Jones… Why spare your life if they intended to harm you?

His memory brought back hazy images of a woman's soft face framed by a halo of pale blonde hair just as his eyes drew skyward to gaze upon that same angelic visage looming above. Clad in a full length, flowing gown that was only a few shades paler than her porcelain skin, she had arrived as stealthily as a ghost. She eyed him quizzically, as though she were as surprised to see him alert as he was startled by her arrival.

He initially recoiled, not from fear, but rather from her abrupt appearance. Now that he was able to see her features clearly, he was transfixed by her ethereal beauty. Only a being sent from the heavens could ever be so lovely. Why this angel would ever want to aid such a broken man as him was beyond his comprehension.

Awake since dawn, she'd left the human's side for only a short while to catch some breakfast and to collect sweet water from the cavern spring. The man would likely be parched when he awakened but unlike her, he couldn't survive by drinking from the saline seas.

After he'd collapsed on the beach yesterday beside her tentacled form, she'd immediately transformed back to her humanoid self to drag his unconscious body away from the shore before the tide set in. He was heavier on land than he'd been in the water but she managed to pull him beneath the safety of the trees. She'd done her best to clean his wounds while he slept but with little knowledge of human physiology, she wasn't sure what else she could do.

She had remained close to him throughout the night, continuing to tend to his injuries as needed and to provide needed warmth. Never in her long life had she been in such intimate proximity to a human but every ounce of her being was insisting that this was where she was meant to be. Despite her species having been bred to lure humans to their demise, here she was seeking to save one of them.

The debris that she'd found him amongst was proof that he'd survived a shipwreck but she wasn't quite sure how. In the treacherous waters that surrounded these islands, no ship that sailed too close to the siren's cove could resist their call. For him to have been found alive, floating into her placid bay, he must have some special power. No man was immune to the siren song, yet here he was.

His sleep had been restless, which she had anticipated and attributed to his injury. The jagged laceration at his temple appeared to be the most serious but she assumed he could have wounds not visible on the surface. She was also concerned about the amount of seawater he may have swallowed. He'd spewed a fair portion when she'd rescued him but more could be lingering within his lungs as he was without the benefit of transformative gills. It would certainly bear watching once he awakened.

As she returned to the sheltered thicket carrying a ceramic jar of potable water, she was surprised to find him alert and staring directly at her face. In deference to her understanding of human modesty, she'd donned a simple, breezy, off-white linen column gown. It was horribly itchy but she feared overt nudity might offend her companion so she'd suffer for his sake.

She dipped her free hand into the water jug and withdrew an ancient, hammered copper cup that she extended towards him. "Drink," she instructed, firmly, yet politely, but the command wasn't spoken in English.

He quirked an eyebrow suspiciously until he could see that the cup contained water. He then softened his features and accepted the offering, gulping the contents a little too quickly in an attempt to quench his thirst. It was the first he'd ingested in at least a day and he was ever so thankful that it didn't smell or taste as though it had been drawn from the bilge tanks. But there was something strange to her statement - he'd understood her although his weary mind couldn't fathom why.

"Who are you?" she queried in that same familiar, yet foreign tongue.

His military training kicked in as he stammered out his rank and full, legal name. "Lieutenant… Lieutenant Killian Charles Arthur Jones…" He paused for a breath before adding the rest of his title. "Of His Majesty's Royal Navy. At your service, m'lady."

"Ah, English," the woman replied with a giggle as she switched to his language. "You didn't appear to be Greek."

"Greek?" he repeated, brow furrowed in confusion. "Was that what you just spoke?"

"It was, and I am surprised that you seemed to understand."

"I learned Ancient Greek in the Naval Academy, just not the conversational form. You speak both Ancient Greek and the King's English?"

"I speak many tongues, but Greek is native to me."

"So, is that where I've landed?"

"No, not exactly," she responded cryptically. "These isles owe their heritage to Greece, but they've no allegiance to that land any longer."

"What do you call this land then?" he pressed, trying to gather more information as to how far off-course his imprisonment by the pirates had taken him.

"No name you would recognize from any map or chart. Officially, these islands exist only within the world of myth and legend."

"I'm afraid I don't understand," he sighed, rubbing his aching head as he shifted his position onto his back. "How did I get here? Have I crossed over into the ever after with you as the angel welcoming me?"

"No, you are still amongst the living, Lieutenant Killian Charles Arthur Jones. You are still very weak from nearly drowning out there in the bay so you should rest to regain your strength."

"Aye…," he replied without argument. "But first, Killian will suffice. I've no need for formalities. It's just habit…" He broke off his sentence there, squeezing his eyes closed as he thought of the question he absolutely needed to ask but feared the answer. "Did anyone else reach these shores?"

"No, only yourself."

"Oh," was his dejected response as he turned his head away from her gaze. Neither dared elaborate as unspoken words weighed heavy but after a few moments of tense silence, he at last spoke up. "In my malaise, it would seem I've forgotten to ask for your name, lass."

The question elicited an odd response from her. She remained quiet far longer than he expected, as though she had to think about her reply. "No one has asked me that question in a very long time… My given name was Erimetha, but for simplicity's sake, you are welcome to call me Emma."

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Emma," he said with a weak, pained smile crossing his lips.

"You should get more rest," she insisted. "I can see the exhaustion in your eyes but I promise, I will be here when you wake."

"You'll have no protest from me," he answered sluggishly as he allowed sleep to claim him once again.

**********

A few more hours of deep slumber had been much needed, allowing Killian's battered body and troubled mind to relax and try to heal. As he began to stir, the crackle of flames perked his ears right before he noted the acrid scent of wood smoke mixing with the marine air. His eyes looked skyward where beyond the canopy of palm fronds and olive branches, the heavens were awash with pastel tones while the twilight sun began its descent below the horizon.

Another day passed.

More than a week now passed since he'd debarked his ship for that ill-fated expedition.

More than a week passed since he'd last seen his brother.

Was Liam even searching for him? Did he believe his younger brother had perished? Did he know he'd been captured?

He didn't even have the slightest idea where he was so how could he expect Liam to locate him?

His audible, defeated sigh drew Emma's attention from the fire she was stoking.

"You seem quite distressed," she noted, to his chagrin.

"Yes, I suppose you could say that," he replied with clear irritation in his tone. "The events that have transpired over the course of this week have been rather overwhelming." He ignored the swell of nausea and the constant drumming within his skull to force himself into an upright, seated position. Muscles that hadn't been used since his escape from the pirate ship screamed in protest but he continued to push through all of the discomfort to look his alluring companion in the eye while she lowered herself to her knees.

She didn't wait for him to elaborate on whatever he'd endured, instead placing a woven reed basket onto the sand between them. "I thought you might be hungry," she said with an unassuming smile as she gave the basket a gentle push closer to him so he'd be able to inspect the contents. A quick glance downward revealed a bunch of bluish purple grapes, a few figs and a scattering of ripe green olives. "I have some freshly caught fish as well…"

"This is fine," he replied in a softened, more appreciative voice. "Best to take it easy so I don't lose my constitution, but thank you."

"I do believe you lost most of that constitution yesterday, but I absolutely understand," she chuckled, causing his cheeks to redden.

"Sorry about that… I really don't remember much after getting knocked off the ship's deck into the deep." He lowered his head with embarrassment. Vomiting in front of a beautiful woman was not generally the best first impression. He shyly reached for a handful of grapes, keeping his eyes averted as he popped one into his mouth, hopeful that the fruit would appease his growling stomach without further incident.

"My apologies. I didn't mean to further upset you," she replied as she slid further away from him. "It's been so long that I've clearly forgotten how to have a proper conversation…"

"You've no need to apologize," he retorted, extending his hand to grasp hers, staring into the melancholy of her emerald irises. "I am thankful for all you've done for this hapless sailor but is there no one else on this isle?"

"Not this far south. I chose this isolated isthmus long ago to escape others like me. It has been many years since I've had another creature to talk to who can actually talk back."

"You chose this isolation?" he repeated, incredulously.

"It was far preferable to what was expected of me…"

"Was it your family?" he pressed. "Were you unable to live up to what they required of you?" His curiosity was increasing with each inquiry, wondering if he might have more in common with this intriguing young woman. "Did you fall short of their expectations?"

"Not exactly," was her initial response, but she was caught unprepared by the introspective nature of his questioning. This human was proving he could be a kindred spirit in many ways but she wasn't ready to share. "Suffice it to say that I grew tired of their ideology and separated myself from their ways. It was best for all at the time."

He sensed there was so much more that she was holding back. His barrage of questions had opened a still-smarting wound and it was abundantly obvious that she wasn't ready to confide in him. Of course, if she had been alone on this shore for many years as she'd stated, it might be equally as long before he found rescue so there would be plenty of time to break down those walls. She'd saved his life. The least he could do in return was to help ease her troubles.

"You know, I'm a man who's spent a lifetime living in my brother's shadow, so if anyone understands what it is like to try to be something you're not, it would be me. Liam was always bigger, stronger, smarter… Graduated top of his class at the Naval Academy. Youngest ever Captain in His Majesty's Royal Navy. The bar was set pretty high and I was pushed to be just like him. I've never been good enough. I've worked hard to get where I am, but I'm not sure it's where I wanted to be… I took that stupid expedition into uncharted waters to prove that I was a leader and what happens? Pirates overtook us and most of my crew was slaughtered. The rest, myself included, were taken captive to be tortured and some were probably executed. Some leader I proved to be… I wish I'd never agreed to follow that cursed map!" He hung his head in shame, realizing that he shouldn't have unloaded so much baggage onto her. He didn't want her pity. "You must think I sound like a blabbering fool…"

"You sound like a man who's been trying to please his family rather than himself," she mused. "Perhaps fate brought you here to discover who you are?"

"You think this is the gods testing me?" he scoffed.

"If that is what you choose to believe."

"And you - were the gods testing you as well? Is that what caused our paths to cross here?"

"Perhaps more than you know," she replied cryptically as she pushed herself back up, brushing grains of loose sand from her gown as she stood. "It will be dark soon, but you will again be safe here for the evening. I shall leave the fruits here and you'll find the carafe of water there amongst the brush. Rest well, Killian."

"You as well, Emma."

He stared blankly at her departing silhouette as she strolled towards the flickering fire, the backlight of the flame giving her form an ethereal aura. Damn this woman! He might blame it on his concussion later but although he'd been coherent only a few scant hours, he was already entirely bewitched. He winced as his hand unconsciously rubbed the bruised and still raw skin adjacent to the gash at his forehead, momentarily speculating if this all might be some vivid hallucination or lucid dream.

Dream or not, he'd never experienced such a soulful connection with any person, yet alone any woman and it only solidified his desire to uncover her secrets. He'd gladly spend a lifetime trying.

[gentlemanoftimetravel]

Dark Fairytale 🍄

Requested by @naomi-from-paleontology

Summary: Marinette steps into the center of a ring of mushrooms and is spirited away to a strange world with Felix as their guide.

I’m ether thinking about “Spirited Away” for obvious reasons or something like “the Wizard of Oz”. Maybe I can combine these two. And then suddenly I'm thinking about “Alice in Wonderland” ... Jep, I don’t know anymore ... welp ...

Let’s see how it will turn out!

Hope you enjoy!

————

Don’t go into the woods. Don’t stroll around. Don’t follow strange animals. Don’t do this. Don’t do that. Don’t. Don’t. Don’t.

Marinette was sick of hearing these. Ever since she was a small child she have the greatest adventures when her parents weren’t around. Fairy’s. Demons. Speaking Animals. Mermaids. Trolls. Sometimes even dragons!

But every time she tried to tell and show her parents nothing was there anymore. At first, her parents found her imagination great. But the older she gets, the lesser they liked it. And with time comes the ban. Marinette was no longer allowed to go into the woods. She was supposed to stay near her house. Forced to ignore her friends just beneath the surface. Forced to change herself. Forced to be someone else.

Needless to say she doesn’t liked that.

But the tip of the iceberg came when her parents decided that she should marry someone. Adrien Agreste. Someone who is exactly as oblivious as her parents. Who just thought about himself and his point of view. Someone she knew she could never get as happy as with her friends.

So she made a decision.

~~

She pants. Ever so often she turned around just to make sure that nobody follows her. She ran deeper and deeper into the forest. She follows the voices from her friends and they led her to a glade.

She stumbles right into the opening. When she fell to the ground, she saw some toadstools. As if they were circling the clearing all around.

How strange.

Somewhere deep down in her memory she rememberd a fairytale that began with circle of mushrooms. But she can’t remember how it goes.

In that moment she hit the ground.

~~

Snickering.

Strange. Marinette is very sure that she is not giggling. In fact, she should be alone. Maybe she hit her head? But there’s more snickering. Possibly she should push herself up from the ground and look who’s there. Perhaps it is one of her friends.

As she sits up she stares right into piercing green eyes. Which sit in a head full of black fur. She blinks twice.

Another snicker emerged from that strange creature. She tilted her head.

“A cat?”

But there was more. No simple housecat had such a wide smile. And the eyes held an intelligence wich isn’t normal. She shivered. These cat where nothing like her former friends.

“Who are you?”

If possible the smile got even wider. The cat stretched and strolls a few steps away. It stopped and looked back to Marinette, then to the entrance of the forest and back to Marinette. As if she should follow.

Marinette blinked again. “You know what? I have no idea what’s going on but fine, I follow you.” Marinette stands up and nods. The cat happily waging its tail and started walking again.

From time to time it’s checking if Marinette is still behind him. As some time passed and the sun is beginning to meet the horizon they entered a small colourful village.

The cat leads her past stores, a fountain, a church, the townhall -if she’s not misled- and beautiful flower fields. At the end of the village the cat walks to a lovely house with an large garden. At the door he stops one last time. He looked back to Marinette and puts a paw at the door. And then he meowed. It sound as false and irritating as the whole story.

“Really?” Marinette raised an eyebrow. “But fine.” She knocked and waited.

She heared footsteps at the other side of the door. As the front door swings open she looked into the face of a young man. The ice blue eyes held something familiar.

“Plagg, why didn’t you ...” he trailed of as he noticed her. “Marinette? Marinette is it really you? Oh Plagg, where did you find her?” With joy he jumped to her and hugged her.

“Should I know you? You obviously knew me, so I guess I should?”

“Marinette, it’s me. Felix! We played together as kids. Don’t you remember?”

“Not really, sorry.” she said with an apologetic smile.

His smile dropped for a second only to come back at full force a moment later.

“Then let us refresh your memory! Tomorrow. For now, come in and eat dinner with me.”

He took her hand and led her inside.

~~

The next morning Felix guided her to a small spring. The pink cherry trees were in full bloom. Some of the flowers slowly fell down to the water surface.

“What am I supposed to see here?”

With a soft smile Felix only puts an finger to his lips and points to his ear. She concentrates her senses at the sounds around her. Just when she thought she would never hear something, she heard a little giggle. She looked in the direction of that sound. At that moment she spotted colourful little lights. The first moment she thought of fireflys but quickly she corrects herself.

“These are Fairies!” her eyes grow wide.

The little fairies came closer and closer. Some of them buzzed around her. A very brave one approached her and touched her cheek. She giggled and flew back to her sisters.

“Felix! It is amazing! Can we stay a little? Please?”

Felix smiles and nodded.

~~

The next day Felix led her to a graveyard. Today Plagg come along.

“What will you show me here?”

“Demons!” he said with sparkle in his eyes.

Marinette opened her mouth, shakes her head and shuts her mouth again. She will find out soon enough. As they were in the middle Felix stops.

“Plagg, now!”

With a big grin Plagg starts to shake. His contours became blurred. Now he’s a cat shaped black smoke. With piercing and shining green eyes and sparkling sharp white teeth. Little wisps of green smoke trailed of his body. On each cheek he grow one long whiskers, black at the beginning and neon green at the end.

Just as Marinette wanted to say something, Felix whistles. Everwhere behind tombstones, the shadows began to move.

More and more creatures, no demons she corrects herself, began floating towards her. She took a step back.

“Don’t be afraid. They are friendly. Most, at least.”

“Felix!”

He snickered. “I’m serious. They won’t harm you, I swear.”

Despite everything, Marinette had a nice day with demons in the cemetery.

~~

“What will you show me today Felix?”

“I thought we can go to the beach.”

“Oh ... I thought ... Nevermind. Let’s go!”

She linked arms with Felix and they walked down to the ocean. They took a little walk along the beach. When Felix led them around the next corner they reached a bay. Palm trees provide shades. Some rocks break through the water surface and seagulls are sitting in the trees.

It is a beautiful and quiet place.

Felix conjures a picnic basket from somewhere and smiles.

“Come here, sweetheart. I packed something, let us have lunch.”

“With pleasure!” Marinette smiled.

They searched for a shady spot and made themselves comfortable. After some time she heard something.

“Felix what is ...”

“Shhhhh! Just watch!” he said with a wink.

She notices movement on the water surface. Every now and then glittering scales break through the surface. Suddenly a bunch of mermaids appear and group around the rocks. They chatted happily.

“Mermaids!” shout Marinette.

The group of girls startled and looked over to the pair. Marinette claps her hands above her mouth. Some of the girls trailed away but one had a curios look in her eyes. She chirped and receives approval sounds.

The little Mermaid approaches the shore and in a sing-song voice asked: “Marinette?”

Marinettes eyes went wide. She glanced at Felix. “You know me? That means I was here before. When?”

“About two decades ago. We were still kids. We three had amazing days back then. Playing here in the bay. You two learning how to swim. Picknicks. And suddenly it stopped. Felix came by from time to time but you never showed up after that last day. We didn’t know what happened to you and we just hoped that you were alright and that you will show up someday. And there you are. Grown up. Beautiful. But still the same Marinette from back when we were kids.”

“I .... I don’t ... know what to say. I can’t remember much from my childhood. My parents wouldn’t let me go away from the house but apparently I sneaked away? I ....” she huffed. “I just don’t know anymore. Give me time. Maybe I will remember but even if not, we still can make new ones. Okay?”

The mermaid smiled wide. “Yes!”

“But not now. Felix could we ... I think I need time to think about all of today’s events.”

She looked back to the little mermaid. “But I will come back. I promise!”

With that Marinette turned and rushed back to Felix's house.

~~

“Marinette? I want to show you one last thing. Maybe after what you will see today your memory will come back.”

With that Felix reaches out his hand. Marinette considered and took his hand. Whatever he wanted to show her it will be worth it. They walked up the hill and a strong breeze trailed around their bodies.

A big shadow flies over them. As Marinette looked up she saw a majestic dragon. She gasped. She wanted to say something but she heard only a crackling. But not loud for everyone’s ear, it’s just something inside her. Her vision went black. When she wakes up she finds herself in Felix embrace. A concerned look on his face.

“Felix? I think I remember. I finally remember everything. But how. Why now?”

“You were under a spell. I guess that’s your parents fault. I didn’t know exactly how to break it but I figured if I’d repeat your lost memory it will eventually come back. Seems like the dragon had the biggest impression on you. I’m a little bit offended that it was not me. But I’m just happy that I have my Marinette back.”

“Me too! I finally remember everything and now I know the reason why I could not stand it at home anymore. It’s because I missed something in my life and that was you. When the last weeks were any indicators, I want to be with you. I think I fell for you over the past few weeks. Felix? I don’t want to go back, I want to stay here.”

“I will never let you go away from me again. Live with me here and be happy. Let us be together for eternity in our beautiful own kingdom of magic.”

With that Felix leans in and kissed Marinette.

————

That’s it folks. That’s the second ‘dark’ fairytale prompt. I think it weren’t as dark as it should be supposed. I just had the need to write some ‘magic’ and fluff. If you want more story’s from that prompt list please let me know!

Wow, this story took me on a rollercoaster. So many ideas, so little space. I was really close to the end of the story just when tumblr told me I hit the 'block' limit. So I need to compress some spaces. But I finally made it to an end and it got really long.

I hope you liked it. Please tell me what you think about this.

And have a wonderful day!

[imaginetonyandbucky]

AU where Bucky is serial killer of bad guys. After he rescues his steady bf Tony (who already knows about his night job, no idenity porn please) from a straight-up serial killer, he's worried about Tony's reaction to actually witnessing him kill someone. And lbr he slaughtered the guy. But Tony has always felt safe and loved with him and proves to him that he's not afraid or disgusted. If you wanna take it as far as NSFW, blood kink with go great with it. ;) Not necessary at all though. Thank.

A/N: Warnings for extreme explicit violence, gore, and blood play/blood kink. Dark!Bucky, Morally gray/Dark!Tony, and Obie being a dick. Also, apologies to anon for modifying the prompt - Tony isn’t kidnapped by a serial killer, though he is kidnapped.

Tony groans as he realizes that his alarm is going off and that he’s now awake.

“Off, J,” he signals, and then the sounds of seagulls and of waves crashing against the shore cuts off. He still misses living in Malibu, but he definitely doesn’t miss actual seagulls.

Tony throws back the covers and slides out of bed. Or, he tries, but then arms wrap around his waist and pull him back into the warm cocoon of blankets, pillows, and a muscled human.

“Mmmm, stay,” Bucky nuzzles into the back of Tony’s neck.

Tony smiles, a soft warm one that Bucky can’t see. There are perks to living full-time in New York, and waking up with Bucky in his bed is by far the most attractive one.

“Don’t tempt me,” Tony warns. “I have to work today… and I need to show up on time so we can pretend I’m capable of running the company when I have that meeting with Obie today.” Still, Tony turns in Bucky’s embrace and snuggles into Bucky’s chest. Five more minutes couldn’t hurt…

“Right, that’s today,” Bucky hums, the sound vibrating against Tony’s hands where they rest on Bucky’s pecs. Bucky’s hands drift, up and down Tony’s spine, fondling Tony’s ass, squeezing Tony’s thighs, back up to Tony’s neck. Tony plasters himself closer, the gentle warmth from the morning getting coaxed into sizzling sparks. Bucky grins. “All the better to start the day off right, wouldn’t you say?” he asks. Bucky rolls them so that Tony is on top. “Come on, tiger. Show me what you got.”

(Watch out for the break!)

Tony goes to work with a grin on his face. He still manages to get there on time even, thanks to Bucky setting a timer with JARVIS and challenging Tony to get them both off before time ran out.

And Tony always does well under pressure.

He has a bounce in his step all morning, one that lasts through  all the meetings and phone calls and emails. He can do this, he is doing this, and today is finally the day where he gets to sit down with Obie and negotiate for full reigns on the company. Tony has mapped out a five, ten, and twenty year plan. He has a vision - of what Stark Industries could be, should be - and it’s time that he has the power to make it happen.

Bucky had shown him, had inspired him. Wielding a knife with skill and ruthlessness - or weapons and bombs, in Tony’s case - in one hand doesn’t mean the other can’t reach out with a caress.

Stark Industries is a great weapons company. Howard, Obie, and even Tony had seen to that, but that isn’t all it has to be. So many new areas: energy first, where unreliable power abroad hinders the military, but then robotics, prosthetics. Areas that have untapped potential that will keep Stark Industries as a great company, full stop, for years to come, and Tony with the capabilities of dragging them all into the future.

Tony is still grinning when he ducks out of the building for his afternoon coffee break.

Tony isn’t grinning when he wakes up on a concrete floor, his head pounding and mouth duct taped shut. His hands are zip tied together, his ankles too. No one is in the room with him, but they left him in some type of basement.

Amateur kidnappers who don’t want to negotiate? What purpose could this serve?

His body aches. They must not have been careful when they brought him in here and tossed him on the floor. He remembers a gun pressed into his back and being told to get into a car, then nothing. The size of the basement leans more toward residential than industrial though - how far out of the city did they take him?

The door at the top of the steps opens, light filtering down, and Tony shuts his eyes and remains limp. The creak of the stairs - old wooden steps, those will be hard to get up quietly - and then a kick to the stomach that Tony has to absorb without a flinch. Fuck.

That’s it, though, one kick and his kidnapper goes back up the stairs. “He’s still out!” a voice calls out, a man’s voice, and to how many others? The door slams shut, and Tony is left in darkness.

How much time has that bought him? His throat is dry, mouth parched. But he isn’t hungry yet, so he can’t have been down here for too long.

Tony sits up and scooches his way toward a wall. His suit is definitely ruined, and Tony feels a pang of regret and anger. It had been one of his favorites, and the one he’d envisioned wearing while persuading Obie that Tony could handle taking the reigns of SI. No mercy, then.

Tony uses the wall to lever himself to his feet, carefully keeping his balance since his ankles are locked together. His hands are zip tied behind him, which is only marginally more difficult to break than if they’d done it in front. He bends over and raises his arms, and then swings his hands down until they smack his ass. His hands slide to the sides of his body, and the zip tipe breaks from the force.

Easy.

He leans down and undoes the zip tipe around his ankles, using his fingernail to lift the lock bar and sliding it out smoothly. Then, with only a momentary pause of regret, Tony rips the tape off his mouth and holds back the yelp. There are hairs from his beard still stuck to the tape, and Tony can’t tell how much his face is ruined by feel alone. No mercy.

The crack of gun shots has Tony ducking. Voices call out, raised in alarm, and then at least one ends in a scream.

Tony makes his way swiftly up the stairs, keeping to the edges that are better supported, though any creaks are covered by the noises above. He makes it to the top, and then the door is opening, threatening to knock him back down. The man is too focused on something else on the floor, though, isn’t looking at the steps and at Tony. Tony steps to the side and yanks the man down, letting the kidnapper tumble down the stairs in a clatter.

Tony creeps out and enters chaos.

Blood splatters the walls of a living room. There are at least two bodies where that blood used to be encased in, but it’s difficult for an exact count because the dismembered parts are scattered across the floor. The smell, oh God, the smell. The iron tang of blood clings to his nostrils, mixed with death and urine and vomit, and the smell makes the image real.This is not a dream, not a nightmare, not a hallucination - those were real, human intestines strung over the arm of the chair, dangling in the air, from where they popped out of the body cavity of what used to be a human being.

Standing in the middle of the carnage is Bucky, turning to Tony with long knives in hand that still drip blood and bits of tissue.

Tony stands frozen. Bucky is wearing a black mask that covers the bottom half of his face and goggles tinted so dark that Tony can’t see those familiar blue eyes. This is the image that all Bucky’s victims see, this imposing figure strutting towards them with murder clear in his walk since they can’t see it in his gaze.

Tony staggers, the twisting of his stomach that he’d thought to be nausea turning to liquid heat that ravages his body.

Tony had known about Bucky’s skills and penchant for killing in theory, Bucky having confessed his dark secrets before he could accept Tony’s offer to move in together. But Tony hadn’t ever seen, not with Bucky making sure to rinse everything away before stepping into their place and even storing his gear somewhere else to make sure that no evidence tracked back to Tony.

Tony feels light-headed, his knees weak. He needs to touch, he needs to touch Bucky so bad, and it isn’t until he raises his hands to reach out that he realizes his fingers are shaking with the urge.

Bucky lurches to a stop, still several feet away, and Tony strangles a cry in his throat. He needs to touch - he can barely breathe with the want coursing through him - but his feet are glued to the floor, knees shaking with the effort of standing.

“Bucky?” Tony pleads.

Bucky reaches up and tugs his goggles down until they’re hanging around his neck. Then he unclips the mask from one side of his face and lets it hang. He stares at Tony, eyes wide, his own plea written across his face that hurts Tony to see.

“I won’t hurt you,” Bucky rasps.

“I know,” Tony assures, reaching for Bucky. He knows, of course he knows. Bucky has never hurt him, not unless Tony begs and begs for it, pleading for a mark to remember. Even then Bucky is restrained, controlled. Tony has never seen Bucky so raw and uninhibited as he is right now, and another hot rush of want courses through him.  

Tony takes a step towards Bucky, but then is jerked back. The man who tumbled down the stairs survived, and now holds a knife to Tony’s throat while gagging at the living room.

“You sick fuck,” the kidnapper spits. “What the fuck? What the fuck?”

The knife at his throat wavers, and Tony stares at Bucky’s hardened face. Now he knows what happens beneath the mask, and Tony shivers.

The man drags Tony to the side and then back, headed for the door with Tony as insurance. Bucky follows, his pace steady and matching him stride for stride.

“Let me go and we can just forget about this,” the man tries to bargain as Bucky stalks forward. “We weren’t even supposed to kill him, just rough him up for a few days, you know? No harm, no foul. Let me go, oh God I want to forget, I won’t say nothin’ -” The man’s negotiations cut off with a grunt as a knife buries itself in his throat.

Bucky follows his throw, faster than Tony can track, tugging the knife away from Tony’s neck and using it to slit the kidnapper’s neck wide open.

Blood sprays, hot flecks landing on Tony’s face, his neck, his arm. He watches as Bucky follows the kidnapper’s body down to the ground and sinks the knife into the kidnapper’s chest. Bucky rips open the body cavity and reaches in to yank out the man’s still-beating heart.

Bucky crushes the heart in his fist, blood squirting through his fingers. He rises to his feet, chest heaving, and when he meets Tony’s gaze, Tony has never seen anyone so beautiful.

Tony lunges at Bucky, grabbing, clinging, as he pulls Bucky down for a desperate kiss. He attacks, tugging at Bucky’s bottom lip and then shoving his tongue in Bucky’s mouth until Tony owns every bit. He directs all of the fire rushing up his spine out of his mouth, into Bucky, and Tony growls when Bucky just takes it.

Bucky gently cup Tony’s face. Tony can feel the slick blood on his cheeks now, transferred from Bucky’s gloves. A hot fissure of desire and curiosity fizzles through him, and Tony turns from Bucky’s mouth to try to wrap his lips around Bucky’s thumb.

“Oh no, baby doll,” Bucky whispers as he slides his hand away. “You don’t know where that fucker’s been. It’s not safe.”

Tony whines but stops reaching. He leans his forehead on Bucky’s chest, the cold tacky blood that’s soaked into Bucky’s clothes doing little to cool him down. “I need to blow you,” Tony concludes, and sinks to his knees. He feels like he’s going to vibrate out of his skin with sheer want, and looking up at Bucky, drenched in blood, makes his mouth flood with desire.

“I don’t deserve you,” Bucky breathes. He cases their surroundings for a moment before he smiles down at Tony and rubs his thumb under Tony’s eye, leaving a smear of blood. “Alright, baby. Whatever you need, you take in the next five minutes. Then we’ll need to move, okay?”

The time limit ratchets up the tension in Tony’s spine and he deftly opens Bucky’s belt.

“It was Obie,” Tony realizes as he stares at the screen JARVIS displays for him. Bucky’s arms, which haven’t stopped touching Tony since Bucky came for him in the farmhouse out in the middle of nowhere, lock around Tony tight.

Bucky snarls, which Tony appreciates because he’s still too shocked to be angry. Tracing the men who had kidnapped him hadn’t been easy given there were at least three middle men between Obie at the top and the grunts at the bottom to enact the orders.

Don’t kill Tony Stark, but rough him up. Make him scared, or at the least make other people think that Tony is scared, so that he doesn’t have the power needed to take over Stark Industries and change directions - but keep him alive because Tony Stark’s mind is still worth keeping.

Obie. Obie had ordered it, had planned that for Tony.

“He’s dead,” Bucky growls.

Tony reaches back to combs his fingers through Bucky’s hair. The longer locks took a surprising amount of time to clean the blood out of, and Tony made Bucky promise to let him help next time too.

“Let me find out why first,” Tony coaxes. “It doesn’t make sense. Even when I take over Stark Industries, I would still need him. Or at worst, he would’ve been paid millions to go run any other Fortune 500 company. There’s something not right.”

“I’m going to kill him,” Bucky vows.

“Yes, but give me some time to dig into it first. Then you can bring me his heart,” Tony promises, and then turns his head to accept Bucky’s hungry kiss.

[loriendragonqueen]

New Dawn - Chapter Two

Pairing: Ivar x OC

Words: 2.311

Warnings: slavery; bad language; blood; fight; magic; nudity; some sort of smut;

Notes: The same as always, just enjoy it.

Chapter One

_______________________________________________________

She woke up before the dawn once more. It has become her habit - wake, walk to the river to bathe, eat something in her way back and then meet Ivar beside the old ash tree. They were peaceful but the yearning for war was the main scent of them. It was the time of false peace. Isa was teaching him, opening a giant door to a vast and brand new world. She taught him about the southern lands and the huge amount of kingdoms in the west. His mind was pure gold.

"You are learning well, Ivar!" she grinned in satisfaction with her eyes closed and face jutted to the open sky to feel the warmth of the sun with the wintry breeze.

"It is strange. Everything you say to me takes root in my head. It is easy to understand what you say, even with your terrible accent!" he said quite bold.

"It is because your gigantic head isn't worthless after all. I thought that it was full of the cunts you cannot fuck with your lazy dick!" and she laughed mocking him.

"Well, said the virgin pure delivered to the gods as a gift. Forgive my petulancy, oh divine one. I thought that your virginity has something about with your horse face and skinny body without fat or muscles!" he said in a half obeisance.

"Asshole!" she laughed "It's not my fault that my mother couldn't bare a healthy child and then promised my life to the gods. She thought I was going to born a monster when the pain started!"

"Shame... You were born a monster anyway!" he laughed even harder.

"I may be a monster but at least I can walk, crippled boy!" and she showed him her tongue while opening her eyes just to see him grimace.

"You are showing yourself to be somewhat abused, little monster. I still can tie you and treat you like a slave for that!"

"You can try but I will run as fast as your horses. No one ever won me in a race, even my brothers with their stallions!" she laughed like a child.

"How many brothers do you have?" he asked starting to carve a piece of wood.

"Nine... I am the last child of my father and the first of my mother. She was my age when she married the great king Demetrius."

"What was her name?"

"Iphimedeia, Princess of Andros. She married him as a duty but learned to love him as her missed piece!" she smiled lying down on the grass.

"Missed piece?" he said in disdain "What a bullshit!"

"My people say that when Zeus created us, he made us whole and complete. But then, we became ungrateful and mean, spitting in the gods will. As a punishment, Zeus splited us in half and cursed us to find our missed piece throughout our lives. And, before you ask, Zeus is quite like Odin, he is the king of my gods!" she said looking at him with one eye open, still laid.

"I liked your Zeus."

"You only say it because I haven't told you about Hades, the god of the underworld, the one who always try to deceive his brothers, Zeus and Poseidon!"she grinned.

"Tell me more, little monster!" he straightened, leaning his back against the trunk of the ash tree.

"Not now, let’s rest a little, cripple boy, and enjoy the sunlight and its warmth. Let our skin be kissed by the light..." and she fully closed her eyes, pulling the skirt of her dress up to spread her legs, and then pulling her dress straps down to let her shoulders breathe.

Ivar watched her in silence.

"Do the same, lazy dick. I bet you will feel renewed after a sunbathe!" she punched him in the belly "Come on, release your upper body from your clothes and lay down with me in the sun!"

"Only if you do the same!" he said trying to hide the little shame growing inside him.

"Okay..." and she stood up to undress, laying naked in her dress a few moments later "Now you!"

He remained motionless.

"Need help, little prince?" she mocked.

"No, shut up!" and he started to take his clothes off.

Isa closed her eyes in intent to give the young man some privacy.

"Naked yet, lazy dick?" she grinned with her eyes still shut, already warm by the sun. "Come to the light, grumpy boy!"

Ivar then laid beside Isa, completely naked like her.

Isa took a deep breath and smiled soothingly. The warmth she was feeling was almost the same of her home. The saltiness in the air coming from the sea, the seagulls flying and screaming by the fjord. The merchant speaking as loud as the ones back in Ithaca.

"Can you feel it in your bones? The fire of the sun embracing every part of us!" and she looked at him to see his eyes closed the same way as she a few moments ago. She saw him smile serene. "So?"

"You may know something, smug pet!" he affirmed.

Isa then turned her back to the sky so the sun could kiss her skin equally. The wind blew warmer and made Ivar open his eyes. The crystal of his eyes met the hazel of hers. She touched her hair and held it as a ponytail. Ivar bit his lower lip.

"What?" she asked noticing his gaze towards her.

"Nothing!" he looked away.

"So I am not a monster anymore, right?" she teased.

"Shut up, do not use your witchcraft on me!" he frown.

"I am doing nothing. What use would you have for me? Even if I tried to ride you, you would hate it. Wouldn't you? Therefore, I am still a little monster to you, with a horse face and without fat or muscles, a smug pet!" and she reared her ass up, letting her hair fall down on her shoulders.

He remained speechless.

"You are not like the other women." he finally spoke.

"Of course I am not. Have you ever seen or touched a skin as soft and gold as mine?" she taunted "Or ever talked to someone unafraid of you?"

"You should fear me, smug pet!" he furrowed his brow.

"And you should stop desiring me, grumpy boy!" and she looked to the other side, laying her head on her arms tucked in front of her.

"I do not desire you." he protested in a hiss.

"Almost two months and you still think that I do not know that you watch me asleep every night!" she sighed.

He scowled and swallowed dry.

"Witch!"

"Cripple!" she fell asleep.

Isa woke up later with the cold wind blowing in her ass. It gave her chills. Ivar was beside her sleeping as well.

"Psst, Ivar, wake up. There rain coming!" she shook him.

"Leave me!" he grumbled.

"Wake up, you spoiled brat!" she punched him in the center of his chest.

"What?!" he yelled.

"The rain is about to fall angrily, asshole!" and she began to dress.

"It is just rain!" he complained, for he had not slept that way for some time.

"It is not just rain, Ivar, there is a storm coming to harm us!" she exclaimed with rush.

He sat and begun to dress slowly.

"Fuck, Ivar!" she knelt to help him. It was the first time that she touched him that way.

In a matter of instants, she dressed him for his surprise.

"How did you..."

"I practiced with a man as fat as a pig for years!" she stood up "Come, let's come back to your hut!"

While they came back, the rain begun to fall harsh, cold, wetting the two who were hurrying down the hills. But Ivar couldn't follow her speed.

"You can't come faster? Look at those arms, I bet you could strangle an ox if you wanted to. Hurry up!" she spoke with her dress glued to her body.

"It is just water!"

"Fuck!" she felt the storm approaches. "Come!" she said seeing an abandoned barn in the middle of weeds. "If you don't want to die, you should move your crippled ass and follow me!"

"You give me orders as if you were the master and I the slave!"

"It is because I don't want you to die here. I would be punished by your gods. Endlessly, forevermore!" she said almost breathless.

He laughed while crawling.

They entered the barn and it was dark and full of dirt. They couldn't see an inch from their noses.

"Krýo! Krýo! Krýo! Krýo! Krýo! Cold! Cold! Cold! Cold! Cold!" she mumbled looking for some wood to make fire.

Isa found an old stool dry enough to start the fire.

"Your knife, give me!" she asked with a flint stone in her hand.

He gave her.

Isa then got some sparks in a bunch of dry hay. The embers then became full fire, lightening the place. Wet, she took off her dress once again and twisted the cloth far from the fire.

"It seems that you like to be naked in front of me!" he said cocky.

"I am freezing!" she said trembling.

"It is not that cold. Weak witch!" he said mocking her.

Her lips went purple.

"Keep close to the fire!" she said in low tone.

"You should be close to the fire. I am not the one trembling here!"

She then knelt close to the flames. Her skin went pale.

"The storm won't go away until tomorrow!" she said stretching out her hands over the fire.

"Then we shall sleep here tonight." he said taking away part of his clothes and his braces.

"We shall freeze tonight!" she retorted.

"Just come here, whining little monster!" he opened his arms.

"So you could strangle me?"

"Really?" he said with a disbelief face.

She crawled towards him, entering in his embrace to feel his warmth.

"I don't want you to freeze to death before you teach me everything!" and he started to rub his hands in her arms and back.

"You don't want me to die because you care about me and because I am the only witch you know!" she teased.

"Shut up!" he laughed a bit trying to muffle it.

"Your hands are rough." she said in a deep breath.

"Of cour..."

"I like it!" she interrupted and embraced him properly.

He blushed for the first time. His heart ran fast and loud, so loud that she could hear it. She smiled and the night fell.

They ate the apples they brought for the day and then they slept after feeding the fire enough for the dawn.

In that night she saw her homeland delivered to wolves. Ruin was on the way. Five of her brothers were killed and the remaining four were about to break the rest of the realm. It was the time for her return. "All hail the queen!" she heard from afar. A huge smile appeared on her face.

The storm dissipated at the first light of the day like Isa said. The two asleep beside the fire awoke with the croak of the ravens. She was still naked, but she felt no cold, for he kept her heated all night long. Their eyes met and she knew that the gods were among them during their sleep.

"We shall return to your place!" she said in excellent mood.

"What did you saw in your sleep?" he asked curious.

"I will only tell you when we arrive in Kattegat. I must see if today is the day!" she fully smiled.

The sun shone like never, blinding them for instants. She felt that it was the day.

Their way back to Kattegat was quiet. No one said a single word. When they arrived at the town, Isa saw an acquainted boat. Ivar saw her grin.

"What is it?" he asked confused when they stopped nearby the docks.

"It is my way home, to reclaim my faithful right!" she said glowing in happiness.

"What?" his eyes got bigger.

"I shall come back home to take my throne. I shall avenge my father and my mother!"

"Alone?" he surprised.

"The gods are with me. Not mine, but yours. I heard the call, you heard the ravens. Today is the day!" she shone even more.

"But..." he hesitated.

"I will go but I shall come back to you with two thousand men or even more, my best warriors, to join your army. Strangely I am bound to you in an unknown way. And all I know is that our paths shall lead us to the same fate!" she said gasp.

"Then you must go." and he stared down to his hands.

"Wait for me. I shall return in the day after the falling stars, at the early morning. You shall hear the horns of my arrival in the night before. Look at the horizon and you will see boats with black sails!" she smiled and he nodded.

"Prinkípissa Isanthya! Princess Isanthya!" the voices said through the docks.

"I promise!" she said and then kissed him tenderly, touching their foreheads at the end "Wait for me!" she whispered and left towards the men calling.

She ran to them.

"Eímai edó! Eímai edó! I am here! I am here!" she yelled.

"O pappoús tou mas eípe na doúme gi 'aftín to syntomótero íxere ti ékane tous adelfoús tou. Eínai éna thávma gia na to vreíte zontanós! Your grandfather told us to look for you as soon as he knew what your brothers did. It's a miracle to find you alive!" the captain said.

"Prépei na salpárei amésos. I ekdíkisi mou periménei! We must leave immediately. Revenge awaits me!" she ordered haughty.

"Aye!" the captain agreed and they left to the boat, leaving the entire city in doubt about what they just had witnessed.

[creepy--pasta]

The Candy Man

It was the summer of 1987. The heat of that June seemed to come out of nowhere. One minute we were shuttered inside, looking out at the granite-grey shoreline, and then next the sun was pouring in, starching the grass, unfastening flowers and pulling everyone down to the pier. The fairground came, manned by the same troupe of gypsies who were as ingrained as the seasons themselves--big strong men with funny accents and work-rough skin. They were the ones we suspected first. The month passed in sweltering heat; some flocked to the beach, toes enmeshed in the powdery sand; some went in gaggles to the pier, swelling among the attractions, gorging themselves on candyfloss; some stayed in the cool darkness of the arcades and others just sat stewing on their stoops, like sweating water in an icy jug. That summer I celebrated my fourteenth birthday with my good friend Maggie. Maggie was the quiet sort, tall for her age and bony. She lived with her father who she tried desperately to please, and appeared to be stuck in the 1930s; Maggie always wore a navy cotton day dress, a simple, modest frock with a drop waist and sensible shoes to match. Some of the other kids used to tease her for it. On July 13th the news came through. Twelve year old Charlotte and eleven year old Lauren were missing, last seen walking home from the fair. The story sent shockwaves through our small town; we spent five days hacking through foliage and searching through woods, terrified that we might happen upon some horrific discovery. One man found a girl's shoe by a large oak, but the shoe looked more fitted to a five year old than Charlotte or Lauren. I had a deep, sick feeling in the pit of my stomach that something awful had happened, which wasn't helped by the putrid heat and the hot fug of wild mint which packed my nose as I raked through bushes. Maggie was quick to blame the gypsies, but I knew that was just her dad putting words into her mouth. The gypsies denied any involvement and soon packed up their gear, ready to be on the road again. The pier looked empty without the fairground there. That was the first thing I thought as I walked along the coast that morning. I was taking my dog Alfie out for a run along the beach. It was an uncharacteristically cold day, with the clouds knitting together above my head, bone-grey and dismal. I narrowed my eyes against the spray of salt water and Alfie ran on ahead. He seemed to have found something. He was sniffing in the slushy sand and barking as if alerting me to come over. After a few seconds he retreated, and I could smell the death already. My mouth went bone dry. A sweat sprang to my armpits as I raced over to Alfie, distinguishing two lifeless shapes sprawled out by the tide. I waved a flurry of seagulls away and felt bile rise in my throat. It was them. The two girls. They lay face-up, all grit and goose flesh, sloppily re-buttoned into their clothes like distended marionettes. Weak patches of blood bloomed through their shirts, their eyes still open in terror. The news hit us like a ton of bricks. We were horrified, terrified, disgusted and confused all at once; the two girls had been raped and stabbed to death, but that was not the baffling part. The baffling part was that Charlotte's kidney had been removed and so had Lauren's spleen. The knife wounds had been quick, erratic, the work of a mad-man, but the incisions made to retrieve the organs were neat, clean... professional almost. A fortnight passed and I was still having nightmares about finding them on the beach, of their rotting flesh, their dead eyes. The investigation eventually went cold. Nothing else was heard, no threats, no missing people, so parents gave their daughter's stern warnings to be home by dark, and everyone tried to move on. After all, it wasn't like it would happen again. It was around this time that Maggie's grandfather came to visit from Yorkshire. He was a small, stocky man with a stooped posture and a tiny bald head. He looked like a mole, with thick-lensed glasses and a huge copper-brown coat that swamped him. I greeted him politely but he never spoke back. Maggie told me that he had fought in the First World War and had been injured badly, which would explain his muteness and the large bumpy scar that ran down the centre of his cranium. She also told me that he'd ran a sweet shop back in the 40s and could still make delicious toffee. Maggie's grandfather was the tamest creature I'd ever met, but he aroused suspicion from his neighbours which came out in full storm when a third child went missing. It was a little boy this time, nine year old Owaine who'd been playing at the arcade late one warm purple night. I didn't blame poor Owaine for being out at such an hour; despite the atrocities that had occurred there, our town was still the same blasé place, a place where kids wandered from garden to garden and front doors were left gaping open. After the disappearance of little Owaine the town fell apart. It was every man for himself. My parents even stopped me from visiting Maggie, much to my anger, saying that no-one could be trusted. Feds trawled the beach every day, hoping that the serial offender would drop Owaine off at the same spot he did the two girls. They were right. Owaine's body appeared the next day with no wind or where about it. No-one saw anything, he just turned up in the sand, the nudging tide performing a sad imitation of life against his little body. This time the killer took a lung, one single lung, stitched him back up like a surgeon and pummelled the rest of his body with stabs. The gruesome discovery filled me with rage; how could someone do this to a child? I wasn't more than a child myself but at the time I felt a surge of protection for the dead kids. Maggie had always been like a little sister to me, meek and lonely and constantly needing back up, and this was no different in my eyes. I decided I'd find this bastard, even if it meant putting myself in harms way. But it wasn't until Maggie went missing that I put my plan into action. Maggie's disappearance sparked less of a fury among the press and the public, much to my anger. I knew straight away it was because she was odd, quiet, and not particularly attractive; she wasn't pretty like Charlotte and Lauren, nor was she as young and cute as Owaine. This coltish fourteen year old was hardly the kind of face they wanted splashed across their newspapers. But I'd find her. I'd find her and I'd bring her home and catch this mad bastard. Besides, I would make the perfect bait. I only slipped out when I was sure my parents were asleep. I had packed beforehand; torch, key, kitchen knife and the hunting rifle Dad kept mounted behind one of our framed paintings for emergencies. I wriggled out of my window (we lived in a cottage so it wasn't too high,) and landed in our tomato patch with such a thud that I was afraid I would wake someone up. Fortunately they stayed asleep. I hot-footed it onto the high street, looking out for any telltale signs of strangeness. The streets were empty, eerie, and I felt a chill bolt through me as I stood there alone. I had a fleeting moment of regret before my thoughts of Maggie brought me back down to earth; I had to do this. I could hear the knife and rifle sloshing around in my backpack. The rifle was loaded for convenience and I remember being terrified that it might go off accidentally. So much so that I took it out and aimed it as I entered the darkness of the woods. My heart began to race as I stepped over the ditch and found myself under a thick canopy of leaves. I aimed the rifle with two hands and held the torch in my mouth, trying to contain the shakes as I did a quick 360 of my surroundings. Nothing. After a lot of scared stop-starting I found myself by the thick oak tree where a man had found a child's shoe just a few weeks before. The shoe still sat there, a tiny blue shoe with a Velcro strap, grubby and waterlogged. I picked it up for inspection, holding it before the torchlight. SNAP I dropped the shoe and whipped around to where I had heard the sound. My heart dropped into my stomach. The torchlight hit a darkened figure-- Maggie's grandfather. I stood there in shock, heart racing, finger trembling over the trigger, before slowly coming to my senses. "Oh," I said, voice still shaky with nerves. "What are you doing here?" "I could ask you the same thing," it was the first time I'd heard him speak. His voice was rattly and old, but gentle in a soft perverted manner. He seemed totally calm. "I'm looking for Maggie," I said, lowering the weapon. He nodded, and I saw his hand duck into his pocket. I only saw it for a split second but his hand looked odd somehow, like some of it was missing. "Old army injury?" I asked, which in retrospect was pretty rude of me, but I was beginning to get unnerved and his silence wasn't helping. He said nothing and instead unearthed a brown, square cube wrapped in cellophane. "Candy?" I was taken aback. My mouth struggled to summon enough saliva to speak. This was getting weird. "Um, no thank you." "It's really good," he said, and took a step forwards. I took a step back. I needed to get out of here. Now. "No. no thank you." "Really. Ask Maggie." Then I saw his mouth. A thin, white puckered hole in the centre of his face. I turned to run, but a pair of strong arms grabbed me and hoisted me into the air. I screamed and bucked, trying desperately to escape whoever was holding me. In my panic my hair fell over my face, obscuring my view of the night. Sickness swilled in my stomach. All of a sudden I felt a cold, bumpy hand forcing something into my mouth. It was the toffee from earlier. I groaned in protest, arching away from his touch but he shoved the toffee in anyway, along with my caught up hair and his freezing, rotten fingers. I woke up drenched in sweat. At first it was groggy-- my hair was covering my face, I was hunched over--until the jarring realisation hit me like a shot. I sprang up and was tugged down immediately; I was strapped to a chair by my ankles and wrists, thick leather cutting into my flesh. I bucked and screamed like a mad woman, but to no avail. My eyes were still adjusting to the light, but on second glance I realised that I was in a crude, grimy cinderblock room, lit only by a naked bulb that hung from the ceiling. A large white surgical table lay a few feet away, accompanied by a sterile tray of glistening instruments. Merely the sight of them made my stomach lurch. Two hunched figures sat in the darkness, and a third... a third with sensible shoes, a navy cotton skirt, a drop waist-- "Maggie?!" She looked at me, trembling, her eyes full of tears. A pair of jagged scissors rattled in her hands. "Please," she whispered. "I... I didn't want to." It was all too much. I puked down my front. One of the darkened figures stood as I was coughing away the rest of my bile. It was Maggie's father, huge, tall, terrifying. He put a hand on Maggie's shoulder. "Maggie always said you had a good heart," he grinned. "Let's test the theory." "I TRUSTED YOU!" I screamed, overtaken with rage. Maggie quivered away from me, snivelling pathetically. I spat a chunk of vomit onto her front. She hardly noticed it, just kept on sobbing. Her father continued smoothly: "Please try to understand. We aren't evil, we just need your help to keep an old soldier standing." "WHERE IS HE?!" I screamed. "WAS IT HIM?! WAS IT HIM ALL ALONG?!" Then, with swiftness, the third figure rose from the darkness, sending a hail of flies up with him. The first thing I noticed was the stench, a stench so strong that I almost puked again. Instead I stared, glaring into that darkness. When Maggie's grandfather stepped into the light my jaw went slack and every bone in my body turned to mush. It's a sight I will never forget: He was stripped naked, with no coat or glasses. And his body--if it could even be called that--looked like a Frankenstein mesh of other bodies. His torso was a patchwork of foreign flesh held together by sutures, flesh of different shades, textures, and stages of decay. Some flesh had the blood flowing through it, while some was putrefying so badly that I could see right through it. He had no nipples, no bellybutton, and no genitalia, just a flat expanse of hexagon-stitched skin. His hands looked like chicken's feet, three-tonged with no fingers. His feet were the same, like they were wrapped in a dozen bandages. But his face was the worst. Without his glasses I could see the mimicry of his eyes--one blue and one brown-- which lay squashed behind a cage of taut white skin, stretched over the two puncture marks of a nasal cavity and the anus-like mouth which tugged itself into a horrific imitation of a smile. He pointed to his chest. "I have Owaine to thank for this--" down to his stomach "--and Charlotte and Lauren to thank for these." His chicken-hands drifted to his chest. "And little Cindy... such a kind heart. It lasted me eighteen years, would you believe? That little shoe you found, a memento I dropped all that time ago. It's amazing how long things last." He began advancing towards me. I writhed and screamed, pulling desperately against my restraints. Maggie's father stopped him. "Let Maggie do her job first," he said, and gave a nod towards his daughter. "Get her clothes off." I was having none of this. I continued my insane writhing, spitting curses as meek little Maggie edged closer with her scissors. "BITCH! BITCH!" I screamed, as she took a shaking pinch of my shirt. I snapped my teeth at her hand but was powerless to stop her as she slowly began to snip the material away. Soon my shirt was left gaping open, exposing my front to the two men in the room. Maggie then tried to hack at my bra, but the thick underwire stopped her from cutting through. This is the only time in my life I have been thankful for the underwire of my bra. "Maggie?" Her father rose with indigence when she turned back, hopeless. "I--I can't cut it," she whispered. Her father started stomping towards us until the Monster stopped him. "Stop. Let the girl do it." "But she's--" "She has to learn some time." He nodded towards Maggie. "Untie her and cut it from the back." Maggie gave a quick nod and began fumbling with the straps on my wrists. My heart raced. I wouldn't have long. She unbuckled the first wrist and my fist went flying into her bony chin with such a force that it sent her flying backwards. The room sat in shock for a few crucial seconds as I feverishly untied my other wrist and my two ankles, blood coursing through me. Maggie's father charged as I lunged out of reach and snatched up the rifle he'd dumped by the wall. With a huge BANG I unleashed my first bullet into his fleshy head. He jerked back with a burst of blood and hit the naked bulb, which swung crazily as Maggie screamed. Then, without thought, without a plan, I shouldered every last atom of strength I had against the door and bolted out into the freezing darkness. The air rushed in and stung my skin. All I could do was run and run and run, screaming all the way, until I reached the coastline and collapsed, weeping, into the arms of an early morning jogger. The next morning the police found the barn-house I had been taken to. They unearthed a chair with straps, a surgical table and a tray of instruments, and Maggie, still holding her dead father in her shaking arms. She sat in a pool of blood, her traumatised eyes fixed on the ground until one of the officers pulled her away. I stayed in that town for two more years before my parents decided to move. And all throughout that time I wondered if I'd made the Candyman up, that he was a fabrication, a horrible nightmare I created to deal with my shock. And all throughout that time I looked down onto the beach, thinking of how it could have been my body there, my lifeless body with its missing heart.

[nei-ning]

Guided Sleep Meditation Raphael x Donatello

My little fic what I wrote to “Fire Meet Gasoline” fanbook. More will be under the cut!

A screen of Don’s computer in his room brought enough light to two lovers who were in Don’s bed having sex silent moans, groans and whispers filling the room with bed’s creak sounds. Lips shared kisses one after another, hands traveled all around on their bodies bringing more pleasure as silent whispers gave away hints of their nearing climaxes.

Raph’s voice turned more raspy groans as he was coming more and more near to his limits, keeping his glowing eyes locked with Don’s shiny orbs and to Don the look in his mate’s eyes was something what brought him over the edge, releasing his load with pressure on his stomach. Hearing Donatello calling his name with such love and need made Raph bury himself fully in his brother’s ass, trembling and releasing his seeds deep inside. Collapsing heavily panting and sweaty beside Don, Raphael felt weight next to him move and warm smaller form was soon pressed against him, blanket sliding on them covering their bodies from cool lair air. Before Don could praise his sex partner from another amazing sex moment his disappointed was clear on his face when hot head was already snoring loudly. Oh well, he will thank him later. Purple banded turtle settled down better having nasty feeling of fear in his guts and that feeling had become so familiar to him during these past few months. Donatello struggled hard not to fall asleep but eventually those eyelids forced themselves closed, his tired mind instantly taking off. It was an hour or so when Donatello woke up to a nightmare. A nightmare about the time when he’d end up in another time and fought against the Shredder with his older future brothers who, sadly, lost their lives in that battle. It left deep mental scars in Don’s mind and it had take long time before Don had start to recover, slowly but surely. Sitting up sobbing and rubbing his eyes, Don felt movement next to him and gentle touch on his arm snapped him out of his thoughts few seconds later. “Ya okay, bro?” Raphael’s voice was raspy, quiet and so gentle it instantly started to ease his purple banded brother’s feelings. Sighing deep Donatello only nodded when Raph sat up next to him. “Another nightmare again?” “Yeah...” Deep sigh left Raphael’s lungs as he started to fall back down gently pulling Don down with him sealing him in his arms, kissing that olive green forehead. “It’s okay, Donnie. I’m right here with ya. Nothing like that will ever happen. Not in our time and world. We’ll beat Shredder before he beats us.” Don smirked a bit as he pressed more closer to his muscular brother’s warm body, his eyes burning and stinging. He wanted to go back to sleep so bad but he was too scared to close his eyes and Raphael sensed this. Gently starting to stroke his brother’s carapace he hoped it to lull his brother, and lover, to sleep but even after 15 minutes Don was still awake in his arms. “Come on, Donnie, close those eyes and get ta sleep.” “I can’t even if I want to.” Sigh hit Don’s head as Raphael’s chest rose and land under him with his deep inhale and long exhale. Don knew he was starting to stress his lover since he needed sleep after all those days what he had been working without any sleep at all but he just couldn’t close his eyes. “Hey.” “Hm?” “I have an idea but I have ta know ya trust me.” Don raised his head up from Raphael’s plastron, looking at him with asking look in his eyes. “Of course I trust you but… Where are you getting at?” “Lay back down and I tell ya.” Gently pressing Don’s head back on his plastron Raphael held his brother close pulling blanket more over them so they were nice and warm once again. Then he took another deep inhale and released it, Don patiently waiting his brother to get ready. “Close your eyes.” “Wha--? I told you I can’t.” “Just do it, Donnie. Trust me.” Hesitating wasn’t something what Don normally did but he feared his nightmare would continue if he closed his eyes but… Then again… His brown eyes met Raphael’s golden orbs, seeing so much love and encouragement in them. Raphael had promised he would be there and there was nothing in Don’s mind what would question that. Raph was a turtle of his words. Nodding once with small movement Don rested his head back in more comfortable position and closed his eyes and it was all black. “Ya closed your eyes?” “Yeah.” “Good. Now I want ya ta only focus on my voice.” Raph felt how Don chuckled a bit, letting their eyes meet once again. “Don’t tell me you try ‘guided mediation’ on me?” “Why I shouldn’t try? If it helps ya ta sleep then I give it a try, do ya like it or not. Now get back down and relax.” Still having small smile on his face Don let out another little chuckle as he pressed back down, relaxing with deep sigh his whole focus on Raphael’s slow whispering and calming voice after Raph had put some fitting relaxing meditation music play from his phone. “It’s alright, Donnie. I’m right here with ya. Keep listening my voice and let it sooth ya ta sleep. Ya breath nice, steady and calm letting your body relax and turn more heavy.” Nuzzling gently against Don’s forehead Raph pressed his lips on warm skin and continued with more silent whispers; “Ya are feeling all warm and safe. Your lids feel heavy with every passing second and your mind is finding peace. Ya want ta fall asleep.” Taking a little pause here Raph gently rose his hand on Don’s carapace, slowly starting to pet it since his brother was still not as relaxed as he wanted him to be. “Ya have nothing ta fear. Nothing can’t harm ya since I’m here and I gotcha. Take a deep inhale of my scent and let it help ya ta relax more. Let go of all fears and worries. Free yourself.” Starting to doubt his skills of helping Don with guided meditation Raphael got surprised when his brother indeed took deep inhale of his scent and relaxed. Air under blanket had started to warm up and it also started to make Raphael feel relaxed but he wasn’t done since Donatello wasn’t sleeping yet. “Do ya feel and see that? Clear blue sky above ya, pure white clouds slowly slipping past while screaming seagulls fly over ya. You feel water stroking your body and you realize ya are floating in crystal clear ocean water, waves gently swinging ya towards the shore. Your carapace hits the shore in most gentle way and ya lay perfectly still closing your eyes, enjoying the feeling of sun warming ya, waves caressing your lower body, and warm silky sand making small rustle sounds when a crab walks past ya behind your head.” Taking a little break to breath, Raphael continued. “So how are ya feeling? Your legs should be heavy like the rest of your body, ya should be all warm, relaxed and comfortable. Ya are feeling so damn good ya ain’t wanting ta move a muscle.” Feeling Don really started to be extremely relaxed and warm, Raphael rolled them on their sides being face to face with his lover. Good, Don didn’t react to it so he was very close of falling a sleep. Slowly sliding his arm over Don’s side Raph kept holding him close while carefully placing his leg on those thinner legs. Pulling blanket fully over their heads it started to feel like if the two of them were safe in warm nest like baby turtles in sand. Resting his chin on Don’s head Raph went on. “It’s nice, warm and peaceful in my arms and in your mind. Ya are happy and floating into a dream world of beautiful and peaceful dreams. Your breathing is still going on nice and steady while ya are feeling how all cells in your body have reach their maximum level of relaxation. Ya are more then ready and willing ta fall asleep.” Staying perfectly still silently Raphael listened Don’s breathing what had changed. It indeed was now slow and calm and despite the fact Raph couldn’t see Don’s face, he felt the relaxation on that adorable face. Small smile of joy and pride spread slowly overtaking sai user’s lips. Raphael never hadn’t done this to others but at times to himself when he had find it difficult to fall asleep and it always had helped him so now that he’d had a chance to use it on someone else, he was eager to do it… and he was happy he had. Kissing Don’s head carefully Raphael took deep inhale of Don’s scent closing his eyes. “Good night, Donnie. I love ya.” Closing his eyes and resting his head better on Don’s pillow Raphael closed his eyes focusing on still playing music behind his head on low volume, letting it lull him to sleep as well only to find out he was sharing the same dream with Donatello. Both of them were on this huge field full of purple and red flowers side by side, holding hands as they walked forward finally finding a good spot to lay down and let flowers surround them, their scent being sweet and relaxing. Holding one another they enjoyed this peaceful and beautiful dream and they weren’t in a rush to wake up any time soon.

[wheaterz]

Testing Maintenance: Chapter 19

“Mel!”

“Come on, Mel! Come on!”

“Not now! Don't do this right now!”

“I can't fix you this time!”

“MEL!”

-----

Mel jolted in her sleep, shaking herself from the darkness. Before, she'd heard a voice through her unconsciousness, resonating like a bad memory and only just audible to her. Far off, muffled, and shattered. Now, all she could hear was music. Loud music. The woman groaned, wiping the sleep from her blurry, groggy eyes and reached out for whatever was causing the racket. Everything was much too bright, so she was forced to shut her eyes for the time being, her arm flailing to her right and grabbing hold of a smooth, half-oval radio with an antennae. It was playing some kind of noisy, obnoxious salsa dance music and it was quickly blaring a migraine past her ears. Mel searched for an off button and the music died, but she would not be left in silence for long. She could hear water, wind, and birds. Not just any birds, but the cry of seagulls.

Mel slowly sat up, feeling the soft, cushioned surface of a mattress beneath her. She had a thin, white sheet draped over her, and as she put a hand to her brow to protect her eyes from the light she was welcomed with an overwhelming mass of the deepest, brightest blue she had ever seen in her life. Once her vision had adjusted, a gasp filled her lungs.

The futon-like bed that she had awoken from stood on a flat deck of wooden boards, but of limited width. The walk only stretched a few yards until it hit sand, and beyond that was a wide, clear cerulean ocean as far as the eye could see. The skies were pale blue with white, puffy clouds skimming over the water and palm trees grew out of the sand and reached for the bright sun above them. Mel turned in her seat on the bed, finding that she had woken up on an absolutely miniscule island with no other landmarks in sight. The boarded part of the island came with a colorful, striped umbrella folded on one side of her bed and a small, round tea table on the opposite end. There was a simple, wooden booth a few feet away that Mel could have sworn should have been a  bar, but she saw no bottles behind the counter. It reminded her of the Hawaiian vacation that she had taken in celebration of her bronze, but to see the ocean now was absolutely wild to her.

Mel ran a hand along the mattress she lay on and to the sheets that folded down to her knees when she had sat up. Finally, she remembered the bullet wound and pressed a hand to her stomach. It was then that she not only realized that the wound was no longer there, but she was in a thin, floral night gown. All of this was far beyond her comprehension.

Had she died? Did the turret kill her and this was her piece of heaven? A tiny, little tropical island in the middle of a vast ocean with nothing but a cocktail bar?

She could get used to that.

There was an electrical buzz from somewhere above Mel, much like the static of a broken radio, and after it had mellowed out a more than familiar voice called down to her over an intercom she could not yet see.

“You're awake! Oh, finally! You took one hard nap there, Mel! How are you feeling?”

The woman was overjoyed to hear Virgil, as well as relieved now that she knew he was okay. However, Mel's brain told her that if Virgil was speaking to her over an intercom than she must have been indoors. Her eyes, on the other hand, told her that she was outside in the middle of the ocean. She recalled the illusion GLaDOS had made when she and Virgil had thought they'd escaped to the surface through one of Nigel's air-ways. The outside had seemed so real, but in reality it had been a screen wall fixed to look like they had legitimately left. Mel carefully stepped down from her bed, reaching for it when her feet hit the floor so that she could balance herself. She assumed she had been lying in that bed for some time and was visibly clumsy for it in her steps. Her feet felt like jello and her arms ached from being forced to use her muscles after such a long rest. The intercom crackled again and she could hear his distress through the static before the android had even spoken.

“Woah! Mel! I know you need to be constantly going like a hamster on a wheel, but take it easy! You're still recovering, there's no rush.”

Mel looked to the sky. Really, she saw no visible speakers or cameras, but apparently he could see her. The woman tapped a finger to the top of her wrist like she was pointing to an invisible watch and then patted the mattress of her bed.

“How long have you been out? Um....Glitch, what day is it...?” There was some faint mumbling aimed away from the microphone, another voice answering Virgil. After a quick second he turned back to the speakers. “Two weeks. We had a couple medical droids fix you up and knock you out while you healed. You don't mind, right? I mean it would have been a problem if you could talk, because the gasses would have rendered you mute, but that already happened so no harm no foul.”

Mel would have groaned at that. She was completely over taking long winded naps like this. However irritating it may have been that she was in a two-week coma, she was quickly finding that she felt altogether rejuvenated. A little shaky, but healthy. She lifted the collar of her nightgown, blushing when she thought about being changed out of her jumpsuit. Someone, or something, had put her in this thin piece of sleep wear, but the spot on her stomach where she should have had a hole had completely sealed up into a nasty scar. There was no raw tissue, or even stitches. It looked more like the wound had been very neatly burnt shut. Mel let go of her gown so it lay against her chest again and walked forward towards the water. She stopped when a clear panel unfolded out of the wood bellow her and stopped the woman in her tracks. Virgil sassed her.

“Okay, we get it. You're eager to get going. Just hold tight while we move you out of there. You might want to sit back down.”

Mel did as he said and sat back down on her bed. Little by little the scene around her slid away. The palm trees deflated and disappeared into the floor, along with the folded cocktail bar, table, and umbrella. The sky and surrounding ocean flickered off, revealing the blank screens Mel had predicted, but it seemed that not all of the water had been fake. The island sat in the center of an indoor pool of clear liquid that was now being drained out into the floor. She was hesitant to assume any form of liquid in Aperture was just plain water, so she was relieved she hadn't had a chance to go step in it. She was beginning to wonder why Virgil had asked her to sit, when the floor beneath her jolted. Clear glass walls boxed in the remaining space she had around the bed and started to move her forward along a metal track. Two of the blank screens opened up into a plain, dark gray room on the other side of the 'beach' and her box stopped in the center of it.

Everything closed up behind her, the illusion of ocean and blue skies tucked away as if it had never been there. The clear walls of her box lowered and allowed the woman to get up from her bed and walk around to inspect the room. Aside from her bed there were two doors, a bench, and a rusty, old sport's locker with the Aperture logo crudely printed on the front of it in chipped paint. Upon further inspection Mel found that there was a camera pointed at her in a corner of the room and she beamed at it with an exited wave.

Virgil laughed. “Yes, hello. Hi there. That's me. Nice to see that you've got some pep in your step. Did you like our...medical 'bay'? Eh? Get it? Funny right? Bay referring to a body of water and...and...No? That wasn't funny?”

Mel frowned at the camera and shook her head.

“Okay, never mind. Either way, did you like the screens at least?”

This she could nod to.

“See! Told you it was nice! You're going to like this next part too, I'm assuming. In the locker are some fresh clothes in different sizes for you to pick out. Sorry to say, but they are all newer testing jumpsuits and yours was vintage so I couldn't find any more of them. I mean, I guess we could have found a way to wash it, but that thing needed to go into the incinerator. I hope you weren't too attached. The door directly in front of you takes you out of there, but if you go into the door on your right there's a changing room and a shower...What's up? What's wrong with you?”

At the mention of a 'shower', Mel's bright blue eyes widened at the Virgil-Cam and she pointed hastily at the door of question. She mouthed to him the word a couple of times, absolute disbelief on her face.

“Uh, yes, yes. Sh-ow-er. There's a shower in there with hot water and soap--” If he'd wanted to say anything else he wouldn't have had the chance. Mel had turned her back to the camera and gone to the locker, fishing out an orange jumpsuit and tank top in her size and made a bee-line for the door with the shower room. The door slammed quickly behind her and Virgil was left again to his own devices and more than a little startled by her reaction. “A-alright. Bye then.”

It was a little over an hour before Virgil saw Mel again, but the core had waited two weeks for her to fully heal from her injuries and wake up. Another hour had been nothing when compared. When Mel did walk out of the dressing room a billow of steam followed her feet out. The human had slipped into a jumpsuit that didn't fully fit her and was a little baggy around the legs, but they were made long for boots and she was currently barefoot. Mel was tussling her hair up with a towel, drying it off and creating a mane of auburn curls that fell over her head, back, and shoulders. However, while it was still a little damp, she took a hair tie from where she'd been holding it between her teeth and put it all back into a bun. She knew better than to walk out of this room and back into Aperture with hair hanging over her eyes, no matter how good she currently felt.

Virgil spoke up and caught her attention again. “Ah! There you are! Is that better?”

Mel put a hand to her shoulder and rolled it around, loosening up the tension in it and smiled at the camera dreamily. The woman was practically walking on clouds, at the moment, and Virgil was not too dense of a core to not recognize it.

“I'll take that as a yes! We salvaged your boots. They're on that bench along with your portal gun. Get geared up and meet me outside...Oh! And Mel?”

She'd moved to the bench and sat down, ready to slip her boots back on when Virgil asked for her attention again. The human looked up at the camera expectantly. When the android spoke again he was much more sincere and she could perfectly imagine what his face must have been like by the amount of relief that came through.

“Its good to see that your okay. You had me really worried for a bit there.”

Mel breathed out a fond sigh and smiled, nodding her appreciation up at the camera and brushing a lock of hair out of her face to tuck behind her ear. She got her old long-fall boots tied up and buckled on and lifted the portal gun from the bench surface beside her. She looked at the night gown and honestly considered taking it with her. It was so uncomfortable to sleep in her jumpsuit all the time, but the smart thing to do was to give it a pass. She couldn't have too much on her. She was still so sure that she was in danger at all times. Even now, rested, clean, and in good company, she was still in Aperture. There was no easy way to keep her guard down after everything that had happened to her.

She pressed the handle-bar to the exit in and walked through, finding a long, lit hallway with nothing else but another similar door at the very end, but even after passing this it only took her into an office space full of monitors and a window observing one of the surgery rooms. There were two doors and Mel was waiting for Virgil to tell her what to do over the intercom, but when there wasn't any comment from him she tried both doors. One was locked, so that was a no-go. The furthest one opened for her just fine and when she walked through she was startled by a loud noise. A recording of a party blower tooted at her out of a hidden speaker and confetti blasted down from an air vent just above the doorway where she stood. Now that she was covered in multicolored scraps of paper, Mel got a look around the room at the many glowing eyes staring at her.

The room she'd found was a large employee lounge with several sofas and armchairs, a coffee table, a kitchenette at the back with a sink and cabinets, two soft-drink machines, and a television hanging up in a corner where the wall met the ceiling. Several of the cores from earlier, including familiar ones like Rick, Jonathan, Glitchy, Music, and Rainbow, either hung along a single management rail splitting a line halfway across the ceiling or had been placed on different surfaces among the room, like couch cushions and counter tops. Atlas and P-body stood around at the back of the room, both waving to her excitedly when she'd glanced at them and Virgil was casually sitting on one of the sofas with his feet up on the coffee table, a pocket radio in his hand. He'd been smiling smugly at her and pushed a button on his talkie to speak into it, his voice echoing in from a console in the office room behind Mel. “Welcome back!”

Rick was the next to greet her with all the boisterousness of a country-westerner, which was comforting in its own strange way. “Woo-ee! Good going, Tiger!”

“Yes, well done.” Jonathan shifted his shell proudly, looking very pleased. “That was a decent enough job, for a human. You may have noticed the banner put together by us, the cores. My original idea , of course, as well as the text.”

“It wasn't all your idea.” Adventure interjected, flipping over from jovial to wry. “But I will give you full credit for the wording, though. Credit where credit is due, I guess.”

Mel was still a little stunned, and her eyes panned up to a yellow sheet hanging from the ceiling towards the kitchenette with pink lettering clumsily painted over it. It was nearly unreadable, but after some staring she was able to decipher what it said.

'grEAt WoRK nOt bEiNg KillED?'

With a question mark.

Virgil thumbed over his shoulder at the banner nonchalantly and shook his head at her. “I had nothing to do with that. Trust me.”

The Ego core turned to snuff at him. “We couldn't very well congratulate the human for shutting HER down like we'd originally planned, Maintenance. Last I checked She's still ticking, isn't She? What exactly happened, if you'd be kind enough to share with us?”

“Oh-- Pfft! Jeez, who knows with that. Some real craziness was going on down there.” Virgil was not ready to confess to a full room of his peers that he'd helped initiate GLaDOS rejoining the mainframe and looked away so he wouldn't share eye contact with anyone. With his cheek rested in his hand the android mumbled anxiously. “Weeiiiird...”

“I think what matters right now is that we're not all dead and that the facility isn't coming down around our gears.” Glitchy was ready to take the focus away from Virgil, since he'd been the only other person the Maintenance Core had explained the situation to in confidence that he wouldn't go around mouthing off about it. “Try a little more grace, Ego.”

“Grace, indeed. You're rather graceful when you fling yourself from your management rail into a pool of repulsion gel, aren't you?”

All the other cores had started interjecting on the conversation now, and soon the whole lounge was a white noise of each robot trying to talk over the other, save for Virgil, Atlas, and P-body. Mel's shock was gradually slipping away and she relaxed her shoulders, smiling at the robots in the room. It was the sentiment that mattered. However, the amount of chatting cores was a little overwhelming. Virgil could read her from a mile away and he sat forward, waving Glitchy down and the white-eyed core zipping over as close as he could above Virgil's head to hear what he had to say. “Let's start herding them out of here, give her some room.”

“Got it. Atlas! P-body! Let's get these guys moving. Come on everyone, party's over. Back to the usual. That's enough fun for a lifetime.”

“W-wait! I was going to start dropping some sick beats!”

“The human's got one of those brain aches, no sense in making it worse, Music. Move it along.”

Atlas and P-body went around the lounge, collecting cores from different corners of the room and hanging them back onto the rail as they all started to leave through a square hatch just above the back door. The last core to go up on the rail was the Raimbow personality and he kept his eye on Virgil as he slid out after the others. “Just wanted to mention that the assist droid suites you, Maintenance. Quite the handsome look.”

Virgil's eyelids flew up and his pupils dilated, the droid freezing and attempted to sputter a response. “Ah—um. Thanks! Yeah, uh...picked it out myself! Yup. Okay, bye!” He only just remembered to lift a hand and wave after the prism-colored personality core as he left. He immediately regretted saying anything other than a simple 'thank you' and shoved his hands up to his face with an exasperated groan.

Atlas and P-body made sure that all the leg-less robots had made it onto the management rail safely and were out of the room. When they'd finished up the testing droids ran over to Mel, each of them taking turns scooping the woman into a bone-crushing hug. She was a little more prepared for them this time and braced herself, as well as her poor bones. They'd been a great help to her in the last few hours and she fully realized that she could have very well died if it weren't for them. The same credit went to the other cores who'd grabbed her out from under GLaDOS' chamber after Virgil had been seriously hurt.

Eventually, Atlas and P-body would leave the room and the round, mechanical door closed behind them automatically. Silence came over the break room, the once crowded space now only occupied by a single human and android. Only one of them could speak, and he pointed to the kitchenette counter. “Found some cans of beans. Already opened one for you.”

She felt ravenous and was more than happy to grab the can up with a bottle of water Virgil had also been kind enough to scavenge. Mel walked over to the sofa Virgil sat on and placed her portal device down on the coffee table where he'd put his feet back up so he could lounge. The position looked comfortable, so Mel followed his example and did the same. One hand rested the can of baked beans over her stomach and the other stirred around the contents with a plastic spoon between bites. Virgil didn't seem to be very talkative right now, and she was fine with that. They both ended up laying their heads back and staring up at the tiles of the ceiling that were riddled with holes punctured into them by bored scientists throwing pencils up to see if they'd stick. For the longest time, the assist droid didn't say anything and Mel didn't urge him to. It was a silent agreement that they both could really use the time to think and process...everything.

Everything that had happened. The past few weeks...months...decades. Everything. Even after Mel had finished eating and set the empty canisters aside she folded her hands onto her stomach and drifted into doing nothing at all. In Aperture, you could trick yourself into thinking that anywhere could be totally silent, but once you paid attention the far off sounds of machines working, building, and moving large structures around could be heard just under the radar of a pin drop. The walls teemed with veins of artificial life and the Mainframe's last words to Mel occurred to her as she thought about it. It truly had been Aperture itself, and he was right. It did not die. As long as something in these walls moved it kept on living, however twisted and morbid its existence may have been.

Virgil finally shifted an arm from beside Mel, the woman taking her eyes off the ceiling and glancing at him as he reached into his pockets. She was only just noticing that they were bulging with small items, and was the main reason behind why he hadn't gotten up since she'd entered the employee's lounge. As he dug his hands out of his deep, lettermen jacket pockets, over a dozen blocks of brightly colored sticky notes and pens spilled onto the sofa and floor. Mel snorted with a hand to her brow, and in turn cracked Virgil up, the android laughing as he picked a pink one off of him and deftly tossed to the side it at her stomach. “I know what your first question is going to be, and the answer is; flippin' days. I went through so many cubicles, you have no idea.”

Mel's shoulders were still shaking, breathy gasps of laughter finally calming down and she picked up a pen from the couch between her and Virgil. She got to work on scribbling him her first note in ages, glad to have a voice back, finally.

That was a ride.

“Tell me about it.” Virgil pushed a hand through his bangs, looking up at the ceiling again with vexation. “How is it that nothing happens in this place in practically eons, but the moment you step out of that relaxation vault the whole facility turns upside down?”

You woke me up. That's on you.

Virgil got a quick glance at her next note, furrowing his brow and thinking about it. “Huh...actually, that's a good point. I guess it is my fault.”

Cores don't have arms. Who painted the banner?

“Oh, uh, apparently Atlas found some paint and brushes in one of the retired chambers just sitting around. Odd place to find art supplies.”

Are they upset with you at all?

“The cores? Nah. Not most of them, anyway. Some are a little harder to please than others. I got a few calling me a vigilante instead of 'rogue core' now.”

Vigilante or Virgil-ante?

Virgil had to pause at that one. It took him a little longer to process misspellings, but once he'd gotten it he frowned at her. “Okay, I'll give you kudos. That was really good, but how come you can make puns and I'm not allowed?”

I'm good at them.

Mel was rolling up the notes that she was done using into little wads and was trying to toss them into the empty can of beans on the coffee table.

So, the Mainframe was Cave Johnson?

“Dunno.” The Maintenance Core shrugged. Now that his pockets were free he stuffed his hands into them and kept them there. “Could have been, but who's guess is it? We've seen a lot of strange stuff happen in the past few hours, so I wouldn't outright turn away from the possibility, but I won't feed it either. Just...who knows? Who really knows at this point?”

Virgil had gone quiet again, but Mel felt like he had more on his mind to say so she kept her notes to herself for the time being. After she'd let him collect his thoughts, he continued on, carefully wording what he wanted to say.

“I'm...not...Aadland...er, I guess he's actually Dr. Aadland. And he was an engineer, not a mechanic. Doesn't matter.” He dismissed his own broken, wishy-washy speaking pattern and got back to the point. “Either way, I started to question if I was him after all. I kept getting pieces of his memories. When the Mainframe shut me down I finally got a good look at who he used to be when he was alive and it was my final deciding point. I'm not him, and you really don't want me to be.”

He wasn't going to go into any further detail on what he'd meant by that last comment, but he'd discovered that as adamant as he had been about NOT being the human his AI had stemmed from, any remaining confusion he may have had was officially cleared away. Dr. Aadland was not the kind of person Virgil wanted to be, so he wouldn't. It was that simple. He could feel bad for him, he could mourn him, and he could even steal his look and habits...they had different experiences. Overall, Virgil was confident that he was a better person for his. He could already hear Mel writing up her response. She had been conflicted with where he'd been on this spectrum of man against machine, so he was more than nervous to see what she had to say.

It makes no difference. You are who you want to be.

“Wow.” He chuckled. She'd surprised him, but he should have expected that from her. He owed her that much. “That's a nice sentiment, Mel. Thanks... So? What now? Do we want to try this escape plan all over again or do we want to just stay veggies on this couch for the rest of our lives?”

Veggies.

Mel paused, her pen of choice pressed against her chin as she looked down at the next blank note on the stack. She wondered why it was that she'd worked herself up into thinking that any of that had mattered? Virgil being human then against being an android now. She could rationalize it came from the lack of human contact she had endured for so long, but she'd just be making up excuses. After the hell they'd fought through, all of these little details seemed pretty pointless.

Both our past lives are gone for good. I need to take care of what I have now.

“Well...” Virgil sat up, a few pens falling off of him and clattering to the floor. “What you have right now are some beans and a lot of sticky notes. But yes, I fully agree with you on that.”

Mel thought of what to write as a witty response, but the longer she stared at her notepad the further it slipped from her mind. Her writing hand relaxed, the pen almost falling from her fingers as her mind wandered. Eventually she placed the pen and sticky notes down all together and drifted to the right until she was laying on her side. Mel turned over, her face in the back of the couch cushions and curling her body towards it. Her whole upper torso raised and fell with a long, hard sigh and she closed her eyes to block out the bright florescent ceiling lights. She'd been so tired. Even with her body and wounds healed over, her heart had been taken for a rather harsh spin one too many times in the past few hours. She felt heavy and sleepy, even after resting for two weeks.

Virgil watched her and eventually reached out to put a hand on her back. He didn't need to do or say anything else, but he had the feeling that he should just leave it there for her. They were no longer in a rush, and they had done nothing but rush since day one. However, that did not mean they could just stay in one place forever. GLaDOS was willing to turn a blind eye to Mel's presence still within the building as Her and Virgil's agreement, but who knew how long that would last?

Mel reached a hand around her back blindly, Virgil following it as it seemed to search for the sticky notepad she'd put down. He could have let her keep doing that for as long as she was willing to, since her hand was nowhere near the block of paper, but he decided to be a merciful core and placed it, and a pen, on her hip where she could easily snatch them up. While she still faced the back couch cushion, her face concealed from Virgil's angle, Mel used it as a surface to write on and handed her friend another note.

Is there anymore pumpkin pie filling left downstairs?

Virgil had taken the note into his own hands and he giggled. He crumpled it up like Mel had been doing and tried tossing it into the beans can, but it bounced off the rim and to the floor. Virgil stood, putting some of the sticky notes and pens back into his pockets to carry with them and leaving the rest where they were so Mel could share the load. “Alright, come on Mel. Let's get you out of here. I know the couch is comfortable, but you have to get up at some point.”

Make me.

[gurguliare]

so apparently the last flareup of elwing discourse was in july, which i know because emma and i then proceeded to have a fantastically involved conversation about maglor and maedhros’s babysitter qualifications, in the six months before gil-galad came to pick the twins up

now seems as timely as ever.

Emma: i feel about maglor and the kidnap twins the way that i feel about shakespeare plays Emma: .... Emma: that’s one of those sentences you instantly regret

Emma: what i meant was Emma: there are some specific shakespeare plays i read in an abridged version when i was like ten Emma: and instantly and vividly created this FULL INTERNAL FANDOM for Emma: which are not (1) very good summaries of the plays themselves Emma: (2) based on any real production that i could ever see Gogol: wait so tell me more about your damn kidnap twins fanon though Emma: THE THING IS I DON’T KNOW. IT JUST PLAYS ON THE INSIDE OF MY EYELIDS Emma: i don’t know i feel like— i worry about it too Emma: but just, consider that caveat hovering over it, that i worry that my attitudes about this are not great, but Emma: i tend to believe the text when tolkien says that a love grew between them Emma: so i like all the ones quite a bit where elros and elrond are plotting his murder but that’s not what i imagine… i figure them as… well Emma: kids! who maybe Emma: especially elrond Emma: internalize at first that something went wrong, and maybe maglor had to do this? to take them away from their parents? so Gogol: oh my god………. baby .... Emma: i like the idea of elrond’s vast understanding or whatever and deep worrying about the future coming in part from this— unconscious need to placate and then to actually help this very troubled MOTHERFUCKER WHO KIDNAPPED HIM Emma: ok, i’ll just— figure out what’s best. because you don’t know what’s best? and your brother is a creep? so like, we’re going to… work this out? together? you made some mistakes, but wh ohasn’t made some mistakes Emma: ha ha! aren’t we all noldor here! Emma: and it taking him a while to intellectually get to “no… we were kidnapped…” Emma: like the twenty year, very serious version of the "WAIT." comic Gogol: fuck Emma: and at that point the war is happening and they have other concerns Emma: and i also like the idea that elrond never totally got out of it Emma: like, in his subconscious Emma: that if you ask him he’s like “no it’s fucked up they stole me from my home and family” etc but, well, he’s still like “but… you know… the noldor aren’t ALL bad… those greatly harmed can do great harm… :(“ Emma: and that requires a maglor who isn’t like, discussing which of them they’ll kill as the unnecessary hostage Emma: with maedhros, although i like those fics quite a lot Emma: at this point my elros characterization is just “em’s elros” so w/e assume i just said that a bunch Emma: “the most christian elros imaginable" Gogol: i feel like em's elros is my actual fingon headcanon Gogol: no that's a joke Gogol: it's not completely a joke. Gogol: also, has troubling implications Gogol: but yeah. I LIKE YOUR VERSION better than some of the maglor’s malice ones i'm Gogol: contemplating Gogol: i was thinking definitely before you'd even started in on details that like. … yeah, i mean, i prefer to take the text at face value in those instances where it DOES give rare emotional insight, and also idk if you read simaethae's elwing meta today but Emma: nooo Gogol: one sec Gogol: this paragraph: - only Elwing lives, and finds her husband, and they sail West, the first people to manage it in centuries, and they find the Valar and Earendil, the longed for that cometh beyond hope, persuades them to intervene and win the War; and this time the twins live too, and not only do the Feanorians let them live but love grew after between them, as little might be thought - Gogol: which is like, yeah, the reason i genuinely love the … texture of the voyage of earendil chapter, where the sheer barren scraped-cleanness of the landscape makes hope a sort of inevitable weed Gogol: anyway so Emma: RIGHT Emma: there’s nothing ELSE Emma: you HAVE to be with each other Emma: everyone else is DEAD Emma: of tuor and his coming to gondolin is like that too! Gogol: YEAH although tuor has much more of the actively numinous quality i associate with luthien and beren, where it's not only… hope against darkness but also like… i don't know, wonder and delight, for some fucking reason--earendil's voyage and the war of wrath by comparison are both so curiously Gogol: not "secular" but like… delimited by practical necessities Gogol: to get back to maglor and elrond i was just going to say that like, definitely that caretaker role unfortunately on elrond's part Emma: yes yes yes yes Emma: you are right abt tuor and the wonder and delight—that last unexpected stream of water is no joke! Emma: as opposed to the fens at sirion. Gogol: YEAH Gogol: i mean beleriand after gondolin is really like… right, every water source is tainted, but the sea Gogol: but fuck that was what i was going to say actually was one thing i was picturing re maglor elrond and elros was like, maglor and maedhros literally MUCH MORE OUT OF THEIR FUCKING DEPTH Gogol: than they often are in fic... Gogol: like, no joke, struggling to survive against terrible odds for absolutely no motivation Emma: y e sssss it's Emma: i don’t know i fthis makes mechanical sense but i always pictured them like Emma: ... Emma: camping on the really barren parts of, like, bodega bay Gogol: flakdgjalKJGLS:GJ Gogol: YEAH Emma: where it’s just volcanic rock and seagulls Emma: “want to go fishing” “ummm" Emma: “do the children we kidnapped know how to fish” “YOU can ask them that question" Emma: for forty YEARS Emma: in the distance the CONTINENT EXPLODES! Gogol: i'd also be really interested in seeing a… more engaged and frustrated and possessive-of-his brother maedhros honestly like a maedhros who almost wakes up with the last kinslaying Gogol: but in the worst way Emma: ohhhh my god Emma: yeah Emma: not the gentled miserable murderer Emma: but the one who’s determined to keep maglor, and only maglor, alive Gogol: like does he care about the KIDS, no, but is it a way to get at maglor or occasionally to get maglor up, OKAY Emma: and even if elrond and elros did not totally pick up on this, Emma: he wouldn’t be ashamed of just doing it directly Gogol: i can't tell if this is genuinely hotter than fanon standard or if i'm just flipping the dynamic for novelty. w/e i guess Gogol: i do think this version is easier to reconcile with endgame maglor without completely unrolling him Emma: i just still love the rules lawyering of Emma: “listen we can just… WAIT" Emma: “maybe it’ll go AWAY" Emma: “the oath says not” it does sort of fucking imply that though maglor. Emma: you big desperate baby Gogol: y es Gogol: … i don't know. the problem is i like their last convo so much AS like, the first conversation they've had in two hundred years, it's hard to game that for a substantive prior relationship, even though i know they must have done THINGS Emma: ... Emma: is it though Emma: remember that the other convo we have for them is “isn’t that a silmaril” “you know i’ve been meaning to mention to you that i think that would be a good thing" Emma: "[crushing silence]" Gogol: lkJALkjdg Gogol: I MEAN IT'S NOT hard for me to PICTURE but then it's like Gogol: kind of a conversation… ender… in terms of… "what were they talking about and doing in bodega bay" Emma: yeah. Emma: tru. Gogol: i was going to say i kinda still am picturing barely-verbal maedhros in a LOT of contexts, just like, you know, whenever maglor's not looking/conscious, suddenly Gogol: "elros take his legs" Emma: you know what i also like is Emma: maglor and maedhros— well they wouldn’t intend it anyway because like, intending things takes too much effort Gogol: WAY too much effort Emma: but not being aware of how… childlike elrond and elros are Emma: and how much they’re asking of them Emma: because, peredhil. Gogol: oh yeah absolutely lol Emma: so, elrond and elros like, Growing Up Fast in a way that they both assume is their elvish heritage Emma: when actually it is just SUPER fucking human Emma: and elrond never ever figures it out, and elros does at age like 600 Gogol: also like, maedhros and maglor grew up in a household with seven kids..... Gogol: "unnecessary compounding misconceptions" the feanorion party game Gogol: also like. being frustrated with elrond and elros's developmental slowness in some areas and reassured by their accommodating intelligent 'maturity' in others :\ Emma: y e p Emma: i was going to say something about maglor’s almost-scientific curiosity as to their human heritage Emma: shared with the kids Gogol: UH HUH. elrond like, oh good, i………. fooled him into thinking i'm competent another day…. Emma: tomorrow is another opportunity to keep doing that! Emma: joke’s on you you get 2000 more years Gogol: LMAO Gogol: GOD. ELROND. WHY DID HE NOT MAKE NARN ARWEN AH ARAGORN CANON Emma: i know poor child Emma: this is one reason i’m super enamored of celebrian who grew up with the exact opposite pressures Emma: a mother who just assumed that she would never grow out of being 30 and biddable Gogol: i overseriously don't know that i would say OPPOSITE pressures but also: yes and i love them Gogol: by which i just mean like, biddability prized in both cases but. functional vs decorative Gogol: but it's not like maedhros and maglor wanted elrond and elros to be ADULTS Gogol: just, USEFUL children Gogol: whereas galadriel probably wishes celebrian were more impressive but at the end of the day has to admit she likes celebrian's mild patience best of all. they're both being very understanding of each other she feels Emma: oh my fucking god Emma: yeah. Emma: why are there people who don’t want dirtbag galadriel Gogol: nooooo ideaaaaa

[bad-draft-stuff]

inc. au

Arsé-kun: “I told you, I was merely on a walk!” exclaimed the gentleman, hitting the floorboard with his cane. “Sure, I "stuck it” in one, but it’s what I do. Je ne sais pas, however, what happened. I am going to take a look for you, Monsieur.“ A pause. "Y-yes, I fully intend to return home. One a day, I know my limits. Je suis éclaté, after all.” Without another word, the red-clad gentleman took his leave.

Before long, his silhouette was outlined by the raging flames in front of him. He did not seem fazed by the heat- Instead, he leaned forwards into one. Had he been human, he would have burnt instantly. This not being the case, this slight motion forward granted him a better view of the wreckage. Upon a first glance, he saw nothing of note. Knowing better than to quit now, he took another, slower look around before spotting a strange dark spot in the distance. Having caught his curiosity, he approached.

Realizing the spot was moving ever so slightly, his pace quickened. Once he was at the side of it, he bent down to investigate. A light poke with his cane was met with a weak cough and a whine. Nearly dropping his cane, he realized it was a curled up child, and immediately pulled them into his arms. He was once again startled when he spotted marks on their skin. Ink black stripes, that seemed to waver in the heat.

He was momentarily unable to find words, transfixed by the stripes until another cough from the child reminded him of the urgency of the situation. Very carefully picking them up, he softly muttered “Je vais vous aider… I am going to help you. Do not worry, young one. I will let nothing more harm you.” He stood up, and narrowed his eyes at the flames in his way. As if scared, the flames moved away, making a path to walk through. Once through, the flames returned to their previous place. By the time they naturally extinguished, the pair was long gone. ~~~~ Sheepy: Sheepy: *it takes his senses a moment to adjust to the new environment upon waking up. he was silent for a moment, needing time to summon his voice, and finally spoke.* give… give it b-back… you… you didn’t… … … Arsé-kun: Lupin: *From across the room, he only says one thing to make his presence known.* Eh? Sheepy: Sheepy:……huh? *he slowly begins to sit up, and then notices Arsene. He locks eyes on him.* you’re not… where is this…?? … Who are you? …and what?? Arsé-kun: Lupin: I am not one you would know, and I apologize for bringing you to my dwelling. I found you, abandoned in a forest fire. *he tips his hat* And you may refer to me as Monsieur Lupin. *he leans forward a bit* And what is your name, if I may inquire? Sheepy: Sheepy:…uh… … name…? … he… uh… … Sheepy: Sheepy:…I don’t remember… Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he tilts his head* Hm? It is possible it may only be a temporary fit of forgetfulness. Je ne sais pas, I will admit. Is there anything you do recall..? Sheepy: Sheepy: …um… I.. made a deal with s-someone… but he didn’t keep his promise. So he took them from me…. Arsé-kun: Lupin: What? Took what..? *he leans forward a bit more* Sheepy: Sheepy:…uh, my memories… most of them… it’s really hazy trying to remember much… Arsé-kun: Lupin: This certainly is a predicament, mon amie. I will offer you any assistance I can give. Sheepy: Sheepy:…Oh, uh… thank you. Sheepy: Sheepy:…Did my arms burn? *he seems pretty confused about the markings on his arms* …They weren’t like this before… Arsé-kun: Lupin: … These are new..? But that’s… *he shakes his head* Let us assume those markings are new, and not from the burns. Sheepy: Sheepy: I didn’t have them, no. Sheepy: Sheepy: I didn’t have anything like this. Arsé-kun: Lupin: … There is no easy way to explain this, I apologize. *he bows, and stands straight up.* Are you aware of what an Incubi is? Sheepy: Sheepy:…uhhh… the name rings a bell. Arsé-kun: Lupin: Simpler, then. Vampire? Sheepy: Sheepy: ….oh, I’ve heard of Vampires. Arsé-kun: Lupin: It is very similar. And you, I’m afraid, seem to have joined their ranks. Sheepy: Sheepy: Eh…??? B-but!! They’re bad! They… they come… and if you’re bad… they’ll drain your blood… and you’ll die… Arsé-kun: Lupin: This is fairly accurate. However, you are not a Vampire, mon amie. You are an Incubus, which does not partake in the same… *ahem* activities. Sheepy: Sheepy: they don’t drink blood?? Arsé-kun: Lupin: We may. It is not the method of choice by most. It is dirty and not at all tasteful. Sheepy: Sheepy:… … There’s an alternative? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Only a few. Some are only for very specific types of Incubi. The main method… Hm, hm, I’m going to assume you are too young to know. Sheepy: Sheepy:??? Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he makes a dirty hand gesture, one which requires both hands* Sheepy: Sheepy:…??? Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he sighs* Sex. Sheepy: Sheepy: … *he stares for a bit before it clicks in* … but I… I don’t want to Arsé-kun: Lupin: … Then, we may have a problem. I may be able to share energy with you, but you’ll need to learn eventually. Sheepy: Sheepy: It’s really gross sounding a-and girls and boys are really gross Arsé-kun: Lupin: Sérieux? Sheepy: Sheepy:???? Sheepy: Sheepy: What does that mean? Arsé-kun: Lupin: … My apologies, I oft find myself slipping into my native tongue. I merely asked “Seriously?” Sheepy: Sheepy:..I’m not… not interested in anyone like that… and if I’m not interested… i-it’s not nice to… uhhh… Sheepy: Sheepy: get involved with someone who I’m not interested in… Arsé-kun: Lupin: We shall see. One’s feelings often change upon the transformation. Sheepy: Sheepy: W-wait…. we?? Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he bows his head down.* Oui. *he looks back up at the sheep, and his face is covered with the same stripes as the ones Sheepy is decorated with* Call it luck that a fellow Incubi happened upon you. Sheepy: Sheepy:??? does that mean you know how to get me back to normal? Arsé-kun: Lupin: This is normalcy now. At least, until you recall what occurred to you. Sheepy: Sheepy: it… it is? it doesn’t feel normal… Arsé-kun: Lupin: It may take time to get used to. Sheepy: Sheepy:…is it normal for people to get turned into incubi? Arsé-kun: Lupin: …. Non. Most definitely not. Sheepy: Sheepy:…Oh… Sheepy: Sheepy: It’d be nice if I could remember his name… Arsé-kun: Lupin: We.. We will work on your memory as we go, I suppose.. *he adjusts his coat as he’s speaking* Sheepy: Sheepy: Th-thank you!! Arsé-kun: Lupin: It would be my pleasure. Sheepy: Sheepy: I just hope that it won’t inconvenience you. Arsé-kun: Lupin: Most certainly not. I would not mind assisting you in getting back onto your feet. Sheepy: Sheepy: I’m glad… uhh… I don’t see how I can make myself useful, though… Sheepy: Sheepy: I apologize … I don’t have any money or goods. Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he waves his hand* That is quite alright. I can easily spare you some. Sheepy: Sheepy: N-no! I can’t accept that…!! I’ll feel… really bad…. Sheepy: Sheepy: Like a freeloader. Arsé-kun: Lupin: It’s only until you can manage on your own..! I am not one to toss someone out..! Sheepy: Sheepy: But if… uh… if I don’t do something of use to you in exchange… it won’t feel right… Arsé-kun: Lupin: We will find something. I assure you, whatever it is will not harm you. Sheepy: Sheepy: Okay.. Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he stifles a yawn with his free hand* I hope you do not mind, but I am inclined to turn in for a while. You may look around all you’d like. Sheepy: Sheepy: Okay… Arsé-kun: Lupin: And as a word of warning, do not tell the spirit he can’t be a bird. Sheepy: Sheepy:…Spirit? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Oui. Sheepy: Sheepy:…Where??? Sheepy: *Lupin’s hat is knocked off his head* Arsé-kun: Lupin: Tom, mon amie, must you do such things? Sheepy: Tom: yesyesyes i dooo Sheepy: Tom: who’s this??? who’s this??? im tooooommm Sheepy: Tom: and i want to be Sheepy: Tom:……… Arsé-kun: Lupin: .. Of course. *he picks up and dusts off his hat* … We have not decided on a name for you, have we? Sheepy: Tom: a bird, but not a seagull, because they poop on everythiiiing and they provide nothing to humanity except for disease and poop Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh, uh, no… we haven’t. Sheepy: Tom: he doesnt have a name? Sheepy: Tom: thats ok he can be tom too Sheepy: Tom: you can too if you want to lupin Arsé-kun: Lupin: No, thank you. Sheepy: Tom: ok Sheepy: Sheepy:…I can’t think of anything, um.. Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he yawns again* We can think of a name at a better hour. Sheepy: Sheepy: Okay! Sheepy: Tom: oh… im interrupting something Arsé-kun: Lupin: Non, non, you are fine. Sheepy: Tom: just mention me and ill be there to help. dont worry lupin. everything is ok as long as birds. Sheepy: Tom: oh. im not? Sheepy: Tom: im fine??? Sheepy: Tom: still. ill leave you to this. Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he nods* Sheepy: *where did tom goooo* Arsé-kun: *HE IS GONE.* Sheepy: Sheepy:….???? Sheepy: Sheepy: W-well, uh, good night, Mr. Lupin! Sweet dreams! Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he just gives Sheepy a tired smile, nods, and heads out. So now the sheep is Alone. What do?* Sheepy: Sheepy: *he decides to investigate the room. he finds some of the objects there of interest, but decides not to question their existence in the room.* Arsé-kun: *QUESTION IT, SMALL SHEEP.* Sheepy: Sheepy: *he questions it* Arsé-kun: *It doesn’t answer. I have no idea what you expected.* Sheepy: Sheepy: Hmm… tough suspect.. Arsé-kun: *Okay, it looks like a fancy knife, though. What is something like that doing out in the open? It is a mystery.* Sheepy: Sheepy: Wow.. he must be a knife connoisseur. Sheepy: Sheepy:…well, to each is their own. Sheepy: *he finishes his exploration of the room but decides not to explore outside of that room until Lupin is awake* Arsé-kun: *That means he’s gonna be staying put for a while. What do?* Sheepy: Sheepy: *he decides to spend his time by trying to remember exactly what happened, along with doodling on any scraps on paper he can find. good way to use your time friendo* Arsé-kun: *And how does that go?* Sheepy: *he remembers that art is hard and sleeping to escape the suffering that is art is more fun.* Arsé-kun: *about 8 hours later..* Sheepy: Sheepy: *better go and find Lupin* Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he’s a room over, reading the paper. he lowers it when he notices Sheepy* Ah, good morning. Sheepy: Sheepy: Good morning!! Arsé-kun: Lupin: How do you feel? *he puts the paper down* Sheepy: Sheepy: Much better than yesterday. Arsé-kun: Lupin: Good! Any luck with your recollections? Sheepy: Sheepy: Uh… not really… Arsé-kun: Lupin: Hm… Well, do not worry! It has only been a few hours! Sheepy: Sheepy: Yeah… that’s true.. Sheepy: Sheepy: I… uhh.. noticed that you like knives. Arsé-kun: Lupin: Tis better than collecting something you can’t defend yourself with. Arsé-kun: Lupin: As well, it has made would-be thieves reconsider their actions on multiple occasions. Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh.. that’s..uh..true… but.. I don’t really ever remember.. placing an importance on self-protection… … Arsé-kun: Lupin: As if you remember anything at all, little sheep. Sheepy: Sheepy: I remember being cheated… Arsé-kun: Lupin: It is a start. Sheepy: Sheepy:…Umm, are you living all by yourself…? I haven’t noticed anyone else… Arsé-kun: Lupin: Yes. I have Tom, and occasional.. Erm.. ​Visitors​, but that’s about it. Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh…!! Arsé-kun: Lupin: That matters not. Here is what does matter: Aren’t you hungry? Sheepy: Sheepy: But I thought you said.. uh… . and I don’t want t-to.. … … Arsé-kun: Lupin: Well, yes, I did say that. I am not going to subject you to that immediately, though. That would be cruel. Sheepy: Sheepy: There’s alternatives… oh… I remember you saying that… Sheepy: Sheepy: Thank you for not subjecting me to that..!! Arsé-kun: Lupin: That’s right. Unfortunately, I brushed up on the subject.. Most of those variations are far too rare to be the case… Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh… Sheepy: Sheepy: Well, thank you for checking…!! Arsé-kun: Lupin: Quite welcome. Oh, are you going to stay standing? Here, take a seat. *he pushes the chair next to him out* Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh…! Thank you! *he takes a seat in the chair* Sheepy: Sheepy: *he gives the newspaper a curious look* Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh… whoever likes this likes writing about the events of the world!! I wonder why… Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he shrugs* Who knows. *he puts a hand on Sheepy’s shoulder* Arsé-kun: *Sheepy feels a sudden jolt of energy, which goes away just as quickly as it started* Sheepy: Sheepy: ????? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Like I said, I wasn’t going to force you to do anything. Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh…! That’s what that was…!! Arsé-kun: Lupin: Yes. I can feed for myself again later. Sheepy: Sheepy: Okay… Arsé-kun: Lupin: … *he seems a bit tired* More importantly, I’m going to start teaching you the basics of Vamping. *he reaches for his cane and stands up* Sheepy: Sheepy: Okay… Arsé-kun: Lupin: Eh? Just “okay”? Sheepy: Sheepy: Umm.. wait, do you mean…??? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Not feeding, no. How to hide yourself, how to control any abilities you may have. Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh, okay. That’s fine. Arsé-kun: Lupin: Let’s start with the easiest. *he waves a hand over his face. his stripes appear. he does it again and they disappear* Sheepy: Sheepy: *He blinks, obviously confused. whaaat* Sheepy: Sheepy: Where did they go?? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Your stripes, mon amie, can appear and disappear at will. You may also control them. *they come back again* Sheepy: Sheepy: *he slowly copies Lupin’s example* Arsé-kun: Lupin: Oh! You learn quickly! Very good! Sheepy: Sheey: Thank you. Arsé-kun: Lupin: *something catches his attention by Sheepy’s hand* Sheepy: Sheepy: ? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Merely curious about your ring, is all Sheepy: Sheepy: This…? *he looks at the ring* oh, uh… I don’t know anything about it… sorry. Arsé-kun: Lupin: ….. ……….. I, I will take a better look at it later.. Sheepy: Sheepy: Okay. Fine by me! Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he leans back* The next one may take some time. Sheepy: Sheepy: What’s the next one? Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he starts removing his jacket* How do you think you would feel in the air? Sheepy: Sheepy: In… in the air? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Yes. Sheepy: Sheepy: Umm.. I don’t know… Arsé-kun: Lupin: I suppose we’ll have to find out. Sheepy: Sheepy: How?? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Well, we can wait for Tom to visit. Or I can push you off the roof Sheepy: Sheepy: I.. I don’t really like that second one. Arsé-kun: Lupin: Me, neither. But it worked for me. Sheepy: Sheepy: Your parents pushed you off a roof? Arsé-kun: Lupin: … Let’s not discuss this topic. Sheepy: Sheepy: …Isn’t that illegal?? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Implying Incubi are covered by law? Sheepy: Sheepy: …they don’t have laws??? Why not?? Sheepy: Sheepy: That sounds.. uh.. kinda dangerous. Arsé-kun: Lupin: There are. Just not publicly known. Don’t worry- Most of them are common sense. Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh.. okay. Sheepy: Sheepy: But… then… if they aren’t known, how do you follow them? Arsé-kun: Lupin: They are, but only by some people. Once again, common sense. Sheepy: Sheepy: But.. how do most people follow them, then??? Sheepy: Sheepy: Is it just like… it’s morally wrong to hurt someone, so you don’t do it? Arsé-kun: Lupin: … That is not a good example, but yes. Sheepy: Sheepy: Why isn’t it??? Sheepy: Sheepy: Okay. Arsé-kun: Lupin: … Please stop asking so many questions. Sheepy: Sheepy: … .. uh, when did you want to do that… thing… seeing how I feel about being in the air?? When that ghost guy comes…? Sheepy: *speaking of ‘ghost guy’, something that isn’t fragile falls over* Arsé-kun: *there he is* Sheepy: Tom: hi there. did you need me? did you want some fun bird facts? Sheepy: Tom: alright. Sheepy: Tom: did you know that chickens are the most common species of bird? Sheepy: Tom: did you know that penguins are the only birds that can swim? Arsé-kun: Lupin: That’s… That’s great, Tom. I did need you, though. Sheepy: Tom: did you know that kiwis are almost completely blind? Sheepy: Tom: oh. you did? but not for bird facts?? Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he explains* Sheepy: Tom: oh. Sheepy: Tom: so throw him off a roof gently. Arsé-kun: Lupin: First of all, how do you do that “gently” and don’t answer that. Sheepy: Tom: let him gently descend into the depths of hell. Sheepy: Tom: … Sheepy: Tom: er. Sheepy: Tom: …. let him gently descend??? Arsé-kun: Lupin: You’re hilarious. Sheepy: Tom: oh. Arsé-kun: Lupin: Just pick him up. Sheepy: Tom: ok. … *he picks up Sheepy, who reacts by immediately trying to get back on the ground. nopenopenope* Sheepy: Tom: do not worry. i only intentionally drop things. i dont unintentionally drop things. Sheepy: Tom: can i offer you some fun bird facts in these trying times? Sheepy: Tom: a group of chickens is not called a flock, but rather a peep. Sheepy: Tom: a group of birds is a flock, but most birds have specific group names for their species. geese have four different names depending on where they are, and ducks have three. Sheepy: Tom: some types of birds even have multiple names for their groups without being in different locations. such as there being a colony of penguins, but also a pride of penguins. isn’t this incredibly interesting? Sheepy: Sheepy: *he’s stopped flailing around to listen to Tom. for once, Tom’s rambling has helped* Sheepy: Tom: but do not be mistaken. platypi are not birds. they also don’t have a collective name because they are solitary creatures, and generally do not form groups. Arsé-kun: Lupin: Then what is a group of crows- Oh, I am late. Go on. Sheepy: Tom: … Sheepy: Tom: …. Sheepy: Tom: ​The way I DIED. Sheepy: Tom: aren’t these facts fun? hahaha! Sheepy: Sheepy: You.. died to a group of crows? Arsé-kun: Lupin: ? Sheepy: Tom: … Sheepy: Tom: its a murder Sheepy: Tom: do you want to know any more fun bird facts Arsé-kun: Lupin: … Ah. Sheepy: Sheepy: *he now looks uneasy* Arsé-kun: Lupin: … Sure, Tom. Sheepy: Tom: did you know that the trait of laying brown eggs and the trait of red ear lobes are connected in chickens Arsé-kun: Lupin: Amazing. Sheepy: Tom: the first bird domesticated by humans were geese Arsé-kun: Lupin: Why are they such jerks? Sheepy: Tom: geese? Sheepy: Tom: So what’s so bad about the goose? First off, they are mean. They would rip your face off of your skull and do the Mexican hat dance on it if given the chance to. Sheepy: Tom: geese are territorial birds and see you as a lower being. if you make a lot of ruckus, such as car honking, theyll believe youre the alpha male and will follow you around rather than going after you. it really depends on who they see as an alpha male. Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he looks to Sheepy* This isn’t too bad, is it? Sheepy: Sheepy: n-no, but… I doubt this is how it’s going to be like… Arsé-kun: Lupin: It isn’t too far off. Sheepy: Tom: from my experience its not too bad not having your feet on the ground but then again im a ghost Sheepy: Tom: i go through walls Sheepy: Tom: and dont feel pain Sheepy: Tom: like if you stabbed me i wouldnt feel anything Sheepy: Tom: because why would you stab a ghost Sheepy: Tom: thats stupid Sheepy: Tom: that being said Sheepy: Tom: im usually in your house somewhere Sheepy: Tom: because there are some children who are troublemakers and like chasing me around with a weapon that actually hurts to be hit by Arsé-kun: Lupin: As long as it isn’t the closet- Ugh. Must I tell them off for you? Sheepy: Tom: i doubt youll get anywhere Sheepy: Tom: but i havent done anything about it because i could probably throw them pretty far but i dont want their parents or something to catch wind of that Sheepy: Tom: i hide in things i find cute. like that lamp. that lamp is cute. have you noticed that sometimes it flickers? thats me. its not the bulb. sorry. Arsé-kun: Lupin: I was wondering about that. Sheepy: Tom: oh. Sheepy: Tom: is this enough, or should i keep holding him Arsé-kun: Lupin: That is enough. Sheepy: Tom: *he drops Sheepy* Arsé-kun: Lupin: Couldn’t just put him down? Sheepy: Sheepy: so.. is that all I’m going to have to do with that??? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Well, no. But some people just cannot be in the air. Sheepy: Sheepy: What do you mean? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Airsick. Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh. Well I don’t think I am… Arsé-kun: Lupin: We’d know if you had been. So, I’d say you passed that. Sheepy: Sheepy: Yeah… Arsé-kun: Lupin: .. And do not worry. I would not have you thrown off a roof, for any reason. Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh.. that’s good… I thought you were being serious. Arsé-kun: Lupin: Non. Sheepy: Sheepy: Haha.. well, you got me, then. Arsé-kun: Lupin: Hmhm. *he tosses his jacket aside (finally) and sprouts his wings. he then turns so Sheepy can get a better look* Sheepy: Sheepy: ????? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Why else would I ask about the air? We can fly. Sheepy: Sheepy: We can…??? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Yes. Sheepy: Sheepy: …how??? Arsé-kun: Lupin: *one flap, two flap, into the air* Sheepy: Sheepy: ???? Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he comes back down, and folds his huge fukin wings* Tis not too hard, after practicing. Sheepy: Sheepy: But where did they come from? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Much like the stripes, they can be hidden at will. I’m not going to make you pull yours out- It just happens. Sheepy: Sheepy: *he just stares. he doesn’t get it* Sheepy: Sheepy: So I just… will them to appear…? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Yes. Arsé-kun: Lupin: …. I apologize if I am not explaining clearly. This is my first time teaching such.. Sheepy: Sheepy: It’s okay! Sheepy: Sheepy: I guess I should try, now, uh… Sheepy: Sheepy: *it takes him some time, but he does get them to appear. good job buddy* Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he’s genuinely impressed* Sheepy: Sheepy: Um… so I do that.. and then… Sheepy: Sheepy: ..uhhh… Sheepy: Sheepy: …I don’t know how to move them Arsé-kun: Lupin: Try shrugging your shoulders. See if they do anything. Sheepy: Sheepy: ..So you fly by aggressively shrugging your shoulders? Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he laughs* Well, no. That isn’t too far off, though..! Sheepy: Sheepy: That’s good. It’d be really uncomfortable… Arsé-kun: Lupin: That would be positively absurd. Sheepy: Sheepy: *he uses big words that sound fancy so he must be someone not to mess with* Arsé-kun: Lupin: .. And we still have not come up with a name for you. Sheepy: Sheepy: Yeah, that’s true… umm.. I don’t have any ideas, though… Sheepy: Sheepy: Sorry.. Arsé-kun: Lupin: The only thing that comes to mind whenever I want to address you is “Sheep”, unfortunately. That is not a proper name. Sheepy: Sheepy: I look like a sheep??? Arsé-kun: Lupin: In my humble opinion, yes. Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh… I didn’t know because I haven’t looked in the mirror as of yet. Arsé-kun: Lupin: Oh! *he fetches a mirror* Sheepy: Sheepy: *he looks in the mirror* Wow! I look suspiciously like that chair in the background, haha! Arsé-kun: Lupin: … Take the ring off first, Sheepy. Sheepy: Sheepy:??? Okay… *he takes it off* Sheepy: Sheepy:….Oh! There I am! Sheepy: Sheepy:…Looking at this face in the mirror… it doesn’t feel quite right… but I guess that’s me… Sheepy: Sheepy: … Wait a second, how did you know that this ring… did that? Arsé-kun: Lupin: I was hoping you weren’t actually a chair- Hm? Sheepy: Sheepy: Umm… what do you know about it…??? Arsé-kun: Lupin: … A fair bit more than I should. No, I do not have one. No, they have nothing to do with being an Incubus, and no. Sheepy: Sheepy: Then where do they come from??? Arsé-kun: Lupin: May we discuss this later? It may not even be yours to begin with. Sheepy: Sheepy: I stole it?? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Like I said, I do not know. Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh. Okay. We don’t have to discuss it now. Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he puts his wings away and picks up his coat* I will be back in a few hours. You may explore any room you wish, just do not leave. For your safety, I mean. Sheepy: Sheepy: Okay. Arsé-kun: *Lupin heads out* Sheepy: Sheepy: *he watches him leave and decides to look for something that will jog his memory* Sheepy: Sheepy: It’s tempting to go outside but I don’t know what’s out there. Sheepy: Sheepy: Maybe nothing of danger but he’s testing me. Sheepy: Sheepy: *he decides just to wait it out…* Arsé-kun: *Lupin does indeed return a few hours later, and he announces his return by gracefully slamming into the door trying to keep his balance* Sheepy: Sheepy: A-Are you okay?! *he goes over to help support Lupin as best as he can* Arsé-kun: Lupin: Y-yes, mostly. I need to stop looking out of the elevator window. *he realizes what he said and promptly shuts up* Sheepy: Sheepy: There’s an elevator??? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Yes. After I, er, recover, I’ll show you. Sheepy: Sheepy: Okay. Arsé-kun: *so about an hour later, Lupin brings Sheepy out into the hallway.* Sheepy: Sheepy: Wow. It’s an apartment! Arsé-kun: Lupin: Oui. Sheepy: Sheepy: What floor are we on??? Arsé-kun: Lupin: …. 7th. Sheepy: Sheepy: Wow! So high up! Arsé-kun: Lupin: It goes higher up, if you’d like to see. Sheepy: Sheepy: Umm… not particularly, no. Arsé-kun: Lupin: Very well. The elevator is at the end of this hall. I do not mind going down in it, so if you want to explore, you may. Sheepy: Sheepy: Okay! Sheepy: Sheepy: But what’s the dangerous thing?? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Eh? Sheepy: Sheepy: You said it’s dangerous to go out alone. Arsé-kun: Lupin: After what happened to you, I was merely being cautious. Sheepy: Sheepy: Okay. Arsé-kun: *so they go down i guess? idk man* Sheepy: Sheepy: Wow! It looks really nice!! Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he nods in agreement* Sheepy: Sheepy: You lead!! I don’t know what’s around so I don’t know what to look at! Arsé-kun: Lupin: That’s me leading you around, not exploring. Sheepy: Sheepy: There’s a difference? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Yes. Sheepy: Sheepy: But if it’s dangerous to be alone, how do I explore? Arsé-kun: Lupin: I won’t be far, I can assure you. Sheepy: Sheepy: Okay… Sheepy: Sheepy: *he goes to explore, yaaay* Arsé-kun: Lupin: *and he collapses onto a nearby sofa. fuck this* Sheepy: *Unfortunately his rest is interrupted by Izzy sitting on him* Arsé-kun: Lupin: …. Must you? Sheepy: Izzy: Hi there! It looked like you weren’t gonna reply to anything else, so I tried this. Sheepy: Izzy: But I’ve got a question~ Arsé-kun: Lupin: Oui, Mademoiselle. Sheepy: Izzy: Where’s the best place to put a missing child poster? You’re smart. You should know this. Arsé-kun: Lupin: If the next words out of your mouth are “He looks like a sheep”, I’m going to strangle a hooker. Get off of me, please. Sheepy: Izzy: *she moves* Arsé-kun: Lupin: Mademoiselle, there is something very fishy afoot. I would go into detail, but there is a high likelihood we would be caught mid-explanation. Sheepy: Izzy: Ohh. Hmm… well, you can explain later, right? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Most certainly, to you or… Him. Sheepy: Izzy: Him? Oh, you know about the missing kid? Arsé-kun: Lupin: I was referring to the Monsieur, but yes. Sheepy: Izzy: Oh! Thanny! Arsé-kun: Lupin: Oui. Sheepy: Izzy: He looked like he needed a break from me so I decided to come bother you instead. Arsé-kun: Lupin: Thanks a million. Sheepy: Izzy: I only bother friends … Arsé-kun: Lupin: I am aware. I apologize, I’m in a bit of a mood. Sheepy: Izzy: What’s bothering you? Sheepy: Izzy: I can strangle whoever it is for you! Arsé-kun: Lupin: …. We’ve covered the matter before. Your response was to throw me onto a mountain for “therapy”. Sheepy: Izzy: Ohh… thaaatt… Sheepy: Izzy:…Wait a second!! I threw you off a mountain? Sheepy: Izzy: That’s awesome! Arsé-kun: Lupin: No, you threatened to. Sheepy: Izzy: But! Hey!! I’ll try to do something about it~ Sheepy: Izzy: *she raises her voice* Gee they should add opaque walls to the elevator or someone is gonna get strangled Sheepy: Izzy: *she lowers her voice* Sheepy: Izzy: But, don’t worry! I don’t think you’re wimpy because of it. Sheepy: Izzy: You’re brave, because you actually face what you fear. Most people wouldn’t do it. Arsé-kun: Lupin: … I…. Thank you. Sheepy: Izzy: Whenever you feel bad about it, just remember that bravery isn’t not being scared. It’s being able to face your fears. Sheepy: Izzy: Does that make you feel better?? I hope so. I can’t think of any other motivational things. Arsé-kun: Lupin: … Actually, yes. Sheepy: Izzy: I’m glad! Sheepy: Izzy: But, look, if you need help with that, I’m here. I don’t have much to do with my time anyway. Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he nods* Sheepy: Sheepy: Mr. Lupin! I’m baaack! Arsé-kun: Lupin: Oh! And how did it go? *he quickly stands up, partially blocking Izzy from view* Sheepy: Sheepy: I had fun!! I think I’m starting to understand the geography now! Sheepy: Izzy: you’re a dad???? Sheepy: Izzy:???????? Arsé-kun: Lupin: That’s good, that’s good- N-No! Sheepy: Izzy: he’s adorable… hello small child. I’m your mom now and you don’t have a choice in this matter Arsé-kun: Lupin: Mademoiselle, please. He is not my child. Sheepy: Izzy: Ohh. Okay. That means he might actually have a mom then. Arsé-kun: Lupin: Yes. We do not know, though. Sheepy: Izzy: Huh. Weird. Arsé-kun: Lupin: Ah, I’m sorry I ignored you. This is one of my… Er.. Bosses, lets say. Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh… Sheepy: Izzy: He’s rad. He’s also a nerd his existence makes me want to give him a noogie Arsé-kun: Lupin: M-mademoiselle..! Sheepy: Izzy: Huh? Sheepy: Izzy: Am I being too informal?? Sheepy: Izzy: Okay. Lemme try to be more formal. Sheepy: Izzy: *she mimics Thanny’s voice badly* you’re fired grumble grumble paycheck grumble project grumble Sheepy: Izzy: Is that better? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Not exactly. Sheepy: Izzy: I tried. Sheepy: Sheepy: She’s your boss? Okay.. Arsé-kun: Lupin: One of two, yes. Sheepy: Sheepy: ohh. Sheepy: Izzy: Lupin, we should race RC cars later Arsé-kun: Lupin: And you call me the nerd? Sheepy: Izzy: yeah you’re a nerd Arsé-kun: Lupin: .. Thanks. Sheepy: Izzy: Like when they show people being shoved into lockers for being a nerd, the victims call upon you to bring dowm justice because you’re the giga nerd Sheepy: Sheepy: *he is lost already* Arsé-kun: Lupin: If you do not mind, Mademoiselle, I think I am going to return upstairs. Sheepy, you may come if you wish. Sheepy: Sheepy: Okay! Sheepy: Izzy: See you later, man. Sheepy: Izzy: I might drop by later 'cause I’ve got a job for you. Sheepy: Izzy: Don’t worry. It’s easy. Sheepy: Izzy:…At least, for you. Arsé-kun: Lupin: I understand. Sheepy: Izzy: GREAT! Great! Sheepy: Izzy: *there she goes. goodbye izzy* Sheepy: Sheepy: … She’s weird. Arsé-kun: Lupin: M-hm. Sheepy: Sheepy: …What kinda job do you have that has you working for her??? Arsé-kun: Lupin: … Later. Sheepy: Sheepy: Okay. Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he gets up, and heads for the elevator* Sheepy: Sheepy: *he follows* Arsé-kun: Lupin: *open sesame, elevator* Sheepy: Sheepy: *he enters the elevator. the windows are still so cool, wooow* Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he presses the button and faces away from the window, concentrating on the elevator door* Sheepy: Sheepy: *he doesn’t even notice that Lupin isn’t looking out. scenery is more important right* Arsé-kun: Lupin: *and now we wait* Arsé-kun: *1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, wait, what* Sheepy: Sheepy: …eh? Sheepy: Sheepy: …We’ve been going for a while… haven’t we…? Arsé-kun: Lupin: ….. Oh, not this again.. Sheepy: Sheepy: ? Arsé-kun: Lupin: .. It breaks sometimes when going up, and goes to the wrong floor. We can just use the stairs to go down, it’s not a worry. Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh, that’s good… Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he leans back, using the rail to stay balanced* So we just need to wait a minute. Sheepy: Sheepy: Are you okay? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Yes, I’m fine. Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh, okay, that’s good… Sheepy: Sheepy: but are you going to be okay?? Arsé-kun: *And it dont stop goin and it dont stop goin and it dont stop-oh it stopped* Arsé-kun: Lupin: Oui. Sheepy: Sheepy Okay, that’s good. Sheepy: Sheepy: But don’t push yourself. Arsé-kun: *The elevator stopped, y'know* Sheepy: Sheepy: We should get out. Arsé-kun: Lupin: Possibly. *he hits the Open Door button. It’s the roof. k* Sheepy: Sheepy: Wow… we’re high up! Arsé-kun: Lupin: Yes, we are. Sheepy: Sheepy: …. so there’s a staircase around here.. Arsé-kun: Lupin: Yes. Right over there. *he points it out* Sheepy: Sheepy: *he heads over to the staircase* Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he follows, making sure not to look anywhere else but the staircase* Sheepy: Sheepy: *he seems to be keeping an eye on Lupin* Arsé-kun: Lupin: … What? I’m fine. Sheepy: Sheepy: You sure? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Yes. You’re awfully concerned for someone you just met. Sheepy: Sheepy: Huh? Ummm… well, you just didn’t look so good earlier. Arsé-kun: Lupin: I’m fine. It’s okay. Sheepy: Sheepy: Okay… Sheepy: Sheepy: *he stops at the stairs and waits for Lupin* Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he catches up* Sheepy: Sheepy: *he heads down the stairs* Arsé-kun: *so does Lupin. Intense* Sheepy: *Sheepy doesn’t actually trip down the stairs. good job buddy* Arsé-kun: *Lupin almost does, but that’s because he’s a moron. A+.* Sheepy: Sheepy: *he looks over* Arsé-kun: Lupin: *nothing happened I swear* Sheepy: Sheepy: *okay* Sheepy: Sheepy: By the way, why didn’t we take the stairs up? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Because they’re a mess. Sheepy: Sheepy: Did your boss destroy them? Arsé-kun: Lupin: At least once, probably. Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh. Sheepy: Sheepy: Maybe your boss knows something about that ring of mine. Although, if it’s not mine, it’s kinda useless… Arsé-kun: Lupin: Most likely. Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh! Well, if you want, you can have it for now so you can show it to her. Arsé-kun: Lupin: I’d rather not. You already have it, so. Sheepy: Sheepy: Why do you dress really fancy while your boss was wearing sandals with socks? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Preferences. Sheepy: Sheepy: Do you do evil things? Sheepy: Sheepy: Because only evil people wear sandals with socks Arsé-kun: Lupin: There is an entire culture who do that, you know. Sheepy: Sheepy: There is? Sheepy: Sheepy:…I think she also planted that flower garden I saw… it had all yellow flowrs except for one, which was red. Arsé-kun: Lupin: That was her, yes. Sheepy: Sheepy: But… but why…??? Sheepy: Sheepy: That’s so…mean… Arsé-kun: Lupin: I thought it looked nice. Sheepy: Sheepy: But it’s completely fine until the one red flower. Arsé-kun: Lupin: I think it makes it stand out. Sheepy: Sheepy: But it had the opportunity to just be completely yellow. Sheepy: Sheepy: And then that red flower happened. Arsé-kun: Lupin: I used to joke about it being me in a world of idiots. Not anymore, of course, that would be rude. Sheepy: Sheepy: Huh? Why not anymore? Arsé-kun: Lupin: It’s simply rude. Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh. Arsé-kun: *Getting back into the apartment, there’s a few papers and pictures on the table that had not been there earlier. Lupin does not notice them.* Sheepy: Sheepy: Where did these papers and pictures come from? *he goes over to look at them* Arsé-kun: Lupin: Eh? What are- Ah! *he goes over and puts his hand over them* Do not worry, do not worry! Sheepy: Sheepy: ?? Arsé-kun: Lupin: It does not concern you. Mademoiselle did state she had a job for me.. Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh. Okay. Sheepy: Sheepy: The way you’re acting … makes it seem really suspicious… Arsé-kun: Lupin: … Well, actually… *he takes the papers and leaves the pictures* You can look those over, in the off chance they’ll spark a memory- Hm? I.. I just do not like discussing the details, I apologize. Sheepy: Sheepy: *he looks at the pictures* Arsé-kun: *it’s just pictures of people. nothing too exciting* Sheepy: Sheepy: Wow. Arsé-kun: Lupin: ? Sheepy: Sheepy: It’s people. Arsé-kun: Lupin: Yes. Sheepy: Sheepy: Your job is photography? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Non. Sheepy: Sheepy: ??? Arsé-kun: Lupin: I did say to not worry, did I not? Sheepy: Sheepy: Okay. Sheepy: Sheepy: But I can’t think of any job that would require anything like this. I don’t recognize any of these people, either… Arsé-kun: Lupin: … Then don’t think about it. Sheepy: Sheepy: Okay. Sheepy: Sheepy: You’ve got a really weird job … Arsé-kun: Lupin: Indeed. I would quite dislike if either of my bosses got angry at me, so I believe I am going to take care of this now. Sheepy: Sheepy: Okay. Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he bends over, takes something out from under the sofa, and heads out before Sheepy can get a good look at it* Sheepy: Sheepy: *he watches Lupin leave* Arsé-kun: *he is Gone* Sheepy: Sheepy: *he waits a bit to make sure Lupin doesn’t suddenly return before checking under the sofa* Arsé-kun: *there is nothing else there* Sheepy: Sheepy: *oh.* Arsé-kun: *there’s a noise like a firecracker from the roof, then a second. no more after that* Sheepy: Sheepy:….??? *he wonders if he should go investigate * Arsé-kun: *he could if he wants to* Sheepy: Sheepy: *he remembers the warning about it being dangerous outside, but at the same time. he’s curious. curiosity wins and he goes to check it out* Arsé-kun: *the elevator is currently in use. take the stairs? y/n* Sheepy: *y* Arsé-kun: *So he does. Lupin is not up there, but whatever he was carrying is.* Sheepy: Sheepy: *he assumes that it’s intended for Lupin’s bosses, and doesn’t touch it. Arsé-kun: *But is there harm in seeing what it is?* Sheepy: Sheepy: *he is tempted to see, but wonders if Lupin will check on it soon* Sheepy: Sheepy: *he decides to stay put and see if anything happens* Arsé-kun: *nothing does. yippee* Sheepy: *he gets really curious and decides to check it out* Arsé-kun: *That is a gun. That is most definitely a gun. A long gun. Longgun. And if Sheepy decides to touch it, it’s still warm* Sheepy: Sheepy: *WELL BETTER GET OUT OF HERE FAST HAHAHA* Arsé-kun: *So Sheepy goes… Somewhere. Where?* Sheepy: *he decides the place to go is the best hide-y hole he can find in the building to give himself some time to think through the gun* Arsé-kun: *he isn’t interrupted and doesn’t find anything on the way.* Sheepy: Sheepy: well he isn’t looking for me it seems… so maybe the contents weren’t intended and he was framed… Sheepy: Sheepy: But the longer I stay out, the more suspicious it’ll seem Arsé-kun: *There is some noise from elsewhere* Arsé-kun: *and a door closing* Sheepy: Sheepy: *he looks over at the noise* Arsé-kun: *he sees a closed door. exciting* Sheepy: Sheepy: … … ? *he looks at his surroundings* Arsé-kun: *someone was there, he can tell. their shadow just disappeared from view. huh.* Sheepy: Sheepy: ….? *he considers going out of his hiding place to look, but…* Arsé-kun: *well, they are certainly gone now* Sheepy: Sheepy: *he gets out of his hiding spot and looks around* Arsé-kun: *AINT SHIT. Check closet y/n* Arsé-kun: *HEY KIDS, YOU KNOW WHAT’S BETTER THAN SKELETONS IN THE CLOSET? DEAD BODIES IN THE CLOSET! GEE, WOWZERS!* Sheepy: Sheepy: ??!! *he screams, but covers his mouth to try not to attract any attention. he proceeds to close the closet door and go back to hiding. nooooope* Arsé-kun: Lupin, from a few floors up, and very muffled: SHEEPY?! WAS THAT YOU?! WHERE ARE YOU?! Sheepy: Sheepy: *he isn’t sure if he should reply or not… so he does his best to remain quiet, trying to decide between his two choices* Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he continues calling for Sheepy, taking a risk with the ruined stairs * Sheepy: Sheepy: *he tries to get his voice to work to reply to Lupin. That doesn’t work too well* Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he’s beginning to sound worried* Sheepy: Sheepy: *oh shoot. oh shoot. he tries a few times, the first three or four times his voice can’t get all too high, and the last he finally manages to get out a “I’m here!”* Arsé-kun: *Lupin nearly falls down the stairs getting to him, and boy oh boy is he worried* Arsé-kun: Lupin: A-are you all right?! Sheepy: Sheepy: I..sorry..I…closet…t​here’s… … h-heard noise on roof… and.. and uh… so I hid here because uh… then… someone came.. b-but… closet.. Sheepy: Sheepy: There’s a body i-in the closet! Whoever was here put it there! I didn’t see them but I’m sure of it!! Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he pales a little at the mention of the closet* … A-ah… Th-that… Sheepy: Sheepy: D-Did you see them?? Arsé-kun: Lupin: I, er, did see, y-yes… Let’s go upstairs, away from it.. Sheepy: Sheepy: *he stands up* okay… Sheepy: Sheepy:… why was it there…?? Arsé-kun: Lupin: …. ….. Sheepy: Sheepy: Y-you don’t know either, huh… w..well, let’s be careful… Arsé-kun: Lupin: … No. I am fully aware of it. *he takes a moment to regain his composure* Once again, let us go elsewhere. Sheepy: Sheepy: Okay. Sheepy: Sheepy: You know … the body itself isn’t that scary. It’s just that someone left it there… … Arsé-kun: Lupin: …. Had nowhere else to put it, perhaps? Sheepy: Sheepy:…but it’s more that the person who put it there is the scary one… Sheepy: Sheepy: so let’s try to avoid them, okay? Arsé-kun: Lupin: ………….. Sheepy: Sheepy: Is… is something wrong? Sheepy: Sheepy: Did they threaten you?? I’ll fight them! It’s okay! You’ll be safe from them!! Arsé-kun: Lupin: N-no.. Sheepy: Sheepy: Huh? What is it then? Arsé-kun: Lupin: ….. Let’s go upstairs. Sheepy: Sheepy: Okay. Arsé-kun: *and they go, with Lupin visibly nervous the entire time* Sheepy: *and Sheepy is focused on Lupin* Sheepy: Sheepy: Um, since we’re here now, someone’s trying to frame you! They put the murder weapon in your bag! Arsé-kun: Lupin: … Non. Sheepy: Sheepy: Huh? But… but I saw it in your bag… Arsé-kun: Lupin: It was there, correct. Sheepy: Sheepy:…but then…why are you sure no one framed you? Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he quietly takes a seat, and waits for Sheepy to catch on* Sheepy: Sheepy:…you… you killed… them..? th…that body’s… something you left there …?? Sheepy: Sheepy:…. but why? Arsé-kun: Lupin: …. *he shakes his head* No choice. Sheepy: Sheepy: *he parrots the words back again a few times* … … no choice… uh, are you g-going to… kill me..? Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he looks rather horrified at the idea, and he quickly shakes his head* N-non, most certainly not..! Sheepy: Sheepy: … Okay. I believe you. Sheepy: Sheepy: I won’t tell anyone what I saw. Arsé-kun: Lupin: … … You do not have to do that. Sheepy: Sheepy: Huh? But it’d be bad to tell anyone, because then you’d get in trouble, and you don’t want to do it anyway. Arsé-kun: Lupin: I… I did not expect you to take this so.. Easily.. Sheepy: Sheepy: They aren’t scary. It’s just the people who make them that’s scary. But you’re not bad, so it’s okay. Arsé-kun: Lupin: … Very well. If you ever feel you need to leave, go on ahead. Sheepy: Sheepy: Okay. Sheepy: Sheepy: I don’t feel like I do… Sheepy: Sheepy: I mean, unless you want me to. But it’s safer here than out there… Arsé-kun: Lupin: … I suppose. Sheepy: Sheepy: It is! Because I know you won’t try to hurt me because you said you wouldn’t! But no one else has! Arsé-kun: Lupin: … You’ve got an awful lot of trust in me. Sheepy: Sheepy: ?? “Trust”? Arsé-kun: Lupin: The belief that I will do as I said. Sheepy: Sheepy: Of course you will! Because you said so! Sheepy: Sheepy: People… people don’t actually say things and then not do them, do they? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Some do. Sheepy: Sheepy: Why…?? Arsé-kun: Lupin: A multitude of reasons. Sheepy: Sheepy:???? Sheepy: Sheepy: I didn’t know that. Sheepy: Sheepy: But I doubt you would, because you told me about it. Arsé-kun: Lupin: …… I see. I… I am sorry you had to see that.. Sheepy: Sheepy: It’s okay. Arsé-kun: Lupin: … I don’t understand you. Sheepy: Sheepy:? Sheepy: Sheepy: What do you mean? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Do not worry about it. It is not a bad thing. Sheepy: Sheepy: Okay! Sheepy: Sheepy: Why are you paid to kill? Arsé-kun: Lupin: I’m… Not really.. Paid, exactly. Sheepy: Sheepy: Then how do you pay for your room? Arsé-kun: Lupin: By working. Sheepy: Sheepy: But you don’t get paid. Arsé-kun: Lupin: I do not need to be. I work, I get more time to live here. Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh. Okay. Sheepy: Sheepy: I hope me staying with you doesn’t affect anything… Arsé-kun: Lupin: I hope not. Sheepy: Sheepy: I’m sure your boss will understand! Arsé-kun: Lupin: I sure hope they- *there’s a knock at the door, followed by a quieter one* Sheepy: Sheepy:??? Sheepy: Sheepy: Is that your boss? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Judging by the- Arsé-kun: *the door is kicked open* Sheepy: Sheepy:!!! Arsé-kun: Impey: YO LUPE MY DUDEEEEE Sheepy: Fran: You could’ve waited a bit longer before doing that… it might break for good one day… Sheepy: Sheepy:…���.“Lupe”? Sheepy: Sheepy: Do you know them, or are they robbers? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Thankfully, ye- Arsé-kun: Impey: DUUUUUDE, WHEN’D YOU ADOPT Sheepy: Fran: I didn’t know you had a kid. Arsé-kun: Lupin: ….. ……… I don’t, two you. It’s only temporary. Sheepy: Sheepy: He’s letting me stay with him until I get my memory back. Sheepy: Sheepy: It was stolen from me after they turned me into this… Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he nods to confirm* Impey, Fran, this is Sheepy. Sheepy: Fran: It’s nice to meet you. (but how does he know that’s his name) Arsé-kun: Impey: So is he a new Ink? Have ya taught him to stick it in yet? *he gets punched by Lupin. Hard* Yow! Take a joke! Sheepy: Sheepy: What? Arsé-kun: Lupin: He’s asking if you’ve fed for yourself yet. Sheepy: Sheepy: oh… Sheepy: Sheepy: *he is visibly grossed out* … Arsé-kun: Impey: *he observes* That a no? Sheepy: Sheepy: I haven’t. It sounds nasty. Sheepy: Sheepy: You’re kinda weird… Arsé-kun: Impey: *ouch.* Sheepy: Sheepy:? Sheepy: Sheepy: That wasn’t meant to be an insult. It’s just weird to ask about that. Arsé-kun: Impey: Not for us it ain’t! *he grins, baring his fangs* You’d better get used to it, kiddo. Sheepy: Fran: It is a bitof an awkward question to ask… Arsé-kun: Impey: Naaaah. Sheepy: Sheepy: *he shakes his head* I don’t like girls or boys. Arsé-kun: Impey: Huh. Sheepy: Sheepy: They’re gross. Arsé-kun: Lupin: I would like to assume! That you two have vacation time and that is why you are here? Sheepy: Fran: *he nods* Sheepy: Sheepy: Do you have the same job he does? Arsé-kun: Impey: Nope! Arsé-kun: Lupin: Mon aéroglisseur est plein d'anguilles! There is no need to question him so much! Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh. Okay. …. but why not? Sheepy: Fran: It’s not busy where I currently work, and they didn’t seem to need me currently, so I, uh, took some time off.. Arsé-kun: Impey: And I wasn’t doin’ anything, so I dragged 'im to visit ya! Sheepy: Sheepy: Are they incubi as well? Arsé-kun: Impey: Some of em! Sheepy: Sheepy: ?? Arsé-kun: Impey: I am. Franny isn’t. Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh. Sheepy: Sheepy: So he’s like that weird lady I saw earlier? Arsé-kun: Lupin: I suppose. Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh, okay. Sheepy: Fran: ??? Arsé-kun: Lupin: My boss. Sheepy: Fran: Oh, her… Sheepy: Fran: …she’s interesting alright. Arsé-kun: Lupin: Quite. Arsé-kun: Impey: I don’t know, I think you’re more interesting~ Sheepy: Fran: I am? *he doesn’t seem to get that that’s a flirt. oh well.* Arsé-kun: Impey: :3c Sheepy: Izzy: Wow! It’s a party in here! Why didn’t you invite me? *her tone becomes serious, if not threatening* ​Is it because you did terribly at your most recent job?​ *it goes back to its cheerful tone* Hahahah! That’s okay! I believe in you! You can do better next time! Sheepy: Izzy: As long as you believe in yourself, you can do anything! ​I’d seriously recommend taking that advice. Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he flinches* R-right, Mademoiselle.. That won’t happen again..! Sheepy: Izzy: Huh? Why’re you so scared? Don’t worry. I’m not actually mad. Sheepy: Izzy: Accidents happen. I’m not too concerned about it. Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he nods. he’s still a bit scared tbh* Arsé-kun: Impey: *this is awkward, better start flirting with the boyfriendo* Sheepy: Fran: *impey no* Arsé-kun: Impey: *IMPEY YES.* Sheepy: Fran: *but why* Arsé-kun: Impey: <3 Sheepy: Izzy: You’re like… not comic relief, but a relief from every boring person who I work with. Especially Thanny. He’s so grumpy all the time. Arsé-kun: Lupin: I would hope I am not comic relief. Sheepy: Izzy: They’re all like, “You can’t make a remote control monster truck and then take over a whole city with it!” What do they do for fun? Reading? Sheepy: Sheepy: I want to do that. Sheepy: Izzy: I know, right? I’ll be the monster truck overlord. Arsé-kun: *Lupin notices Impey and Fran, and decides to COMPLETELY IGNORE IT.* Sheepy: Izzy: I’m sure you think taking over through monster trucks is a great idea. Right, Lupin? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Clearly. Sheepy: Izzy: Great! You can be my partner in crime! Arsé-kun: Lupin: I feel honored. *he can still see Impey and Fran and it is uncomfortable* Sheepy: Sheepy: *he doesn’t appear to notice them* Arsé-kun: Lupin: *try to ignore the lovers. fail step 1.* Will you two get a room?? Sheepy: Fran: S-sorry! Sheepy: Sheepy: How do they get a room if they need to work for one??? Sheepy: Sheepy: They don’t have the same job as you, so they probably can’t own one here… Arsé-kun: Lupin: It’s not literal. Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh… Arsé-kun: Impey: *he takes it literally anyway, picks up Fran, exit stage left. Lupin does not look impressed* Sheepy: Sheepy: Huh. Arsé-kun: Lupin: ……… May we move this discussion elsewhere? Sheepy: Izzy: Yeah, sure. Arsé-kun: *so they go downstairs. yippee* Sheepy: Izzy: Maaan, it must be lame to have to deal with that… fortunately, most I have to deal with is Thanny. He’s boring but that’s good. Arsé-kun: Lupin: I don’t mind too much. It’s company, and they don’t get the chance often. Sheepy: Izzy: Oh, I see. I’m willing to be company! You’re more fun to talk to than Thanny! I guess I have responsibilities though. Sheepy: Izzy: Like strangling people. Arsé-kun: Lupin: C-carrying on! Sheepy: Izzy: Huh? Sheepy: Izzy: Is there something wrong with that? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Slightly Sheepy: Izzy: What’s wrong with it? It’s my job. Sheepy: Izzy: I ​promised I would do it EVERY DAY. Sheepy: Izzy: But don’t worry! I like you, so you’re safe! Arsé-kun: Lupin: Th-thanks, I suppose… Sheepy: Izzy: You’re welcome! Sheepy: Izzy: I don’t have any problems with a friend or two living with you, though. I know you’re working in order to be able to stay here, but companionship is important. That’s what he said before he revealed that he brought five cats home. Arsé-kun: Lupin: They aren’t living with. Merely visiting. Sheepy: Izzy: Yeah, I know. You implied you’re lonely though. Sheepy: Izzy: Don’t worry. I am too. Arsé-kun: Lupin: Pas de soucis. I’ll be fine. Sheepy: Izzy: I can’t help but to worry, but… if you say so. Sheepy: Sheepy: *he seems mostly uninterested in this* Arsé-kun: Lupin: …. And if I may, might we have a meeting later this week? Sheepy: Izzy: Fine by me. Arsé-kun: Lupin: Thank you. Sheepy: Izzy: Do you have a preferred time or day? I’m free whenever. Arsé-kun: Lupin: Provided that was my week’s work, even tomorrow is fine. Sheepy: Izzy: It was, yes. Sheepy: Sheepy: I won’t leave again. Sorry for making you worry. Arsé-kun: Lupin: Hm? You may go where you wish inside. I was only worried when you yelled out. Sheepy: Sheepy: I went out because I heard something.. sorry. Arsé-kun: Lupin: My apologies. Sheepy: Sheepy: It’s okay. Sheepy: Sheepy: How long do you expect to be gone? Arsé-kun: Lupin: I am not sure. Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh, okay. Sheepy: Izzy: It’s not really like you to want to have meetings, though, so I’m a bit surprised… Arsé-kun: Lupin: And I do not. But the matter requires such. Sheepy: Izzy: I get it! You feel bad 'cause I said I was lonely! You don’t need to feel bad! Arsé-kun: Lupin: … Too late? Sheepy: Izzy: I was right? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Partially Sheepy: Izzy: You’re really good at making someone feel bad, you know that? Sheepy: Izzy: You shouldn’t just hang out with me out of pity. If you aren’t enjoying it, there’s no purpose to it. Arsé-kun: Lupin: Point taken, but I still think it is necessary. Sheepy: Izzy: Well okay, whatever you say. Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he glances over his shoulder at Sheepy* I do not know if my friends will be here still tomorrow or not. If they are, you may go out with them. I trust them enough to allow it. Sheepy: Sheepy: Really? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Really. Sheepy: Sheepy: Thank you! Sheepy: Izzy: I’ll be looking forward to it. Sheepy: Izzy: Is that all you wanted to discuss, or…? Arsé-kun: Lupin: More or less. Sheepy: Izzy: Ohh, okay. Well, I’ll let you get back to whatever, then! Arsé-kun: Lupin: … Might be a bit before then. *he glances at the ceiling momentarily* Sheepy: Izzy: Oh. Sheepy: Izzy: That… Arsé-kun: Lupin: It’s weirder for me than it is for you. Sheepy: Sheepy: I used some of your paper to draw earlier… I hope your don’t mind. Sheepy: Izzy: I can see how it’d be weirder for you. Arsé-kun: Lupin: I do not mind. Sheepy: Izzy: I’m glad my friends aren’t like that. Sheepy: Sheepy: Okay, that’s good. Sheepy: Izzy: I never understood that about Incubi… Sheepy: Izzy: You’re different, which I’m glad for. Arsé-kun: Lupin: Not really. Sheepy: Izzy: You’re different from most I’ve met. Sheepy: Izzy: Most of them are annoying… Arsé-kun: Lupin: I take this to be a compliment. Sheepy: Izzy: It is! Sheepy: Izzy: If you were part of the group of annoying ones… Sheepy: Izzy:….When I first met you, ​my scythe would’ve been the last thing you saw. Sheepy: Izzy: Hahaha, what? Arsé-kun: Lupin: *awkward laugh* Indeed… Sheepy: Sheepy: I want to see your scythe. Sheepy: Izzy: I don’t have it with me, but you can see it later! I recently found these really cute ribbons for it! Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he falls quiet* … ….. Sheepy: Sheepy:…why do Incubi have horns if they aren’t going to headbutt each other to establish dominance or fend off predators??? Arsé-kun: Lupin: … Huh? Well, they could.. Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh. Okay. Sheepy: Sheepy: So it’s a last resort. Arsé-kun: Lupin: Yes. That’s often why it’s the last thing we reveal about ourselves, as well. Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh. Arsé-kun: Lupin: As well, some groups consider it to be a highly personal thing. Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh. Sheepy: Sheepy: I guess that makes sense… Arsé-kun: Lupin: Carrying on. Sheepy: Sheepy: *he looks like he’s trying to think of more questions to ask Arsé-kun: Lupin: … I wonder, are you able to feel what I am at the moment? Sheepy: Sheepy: ???? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Taking that as a no. Sheepy: Sheepy: I don’t think so. Sheepy: Sheepy: Why? Arsé-kun: Lupin: merely curious. Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh, that’s fine… Sheepy: Sheepy:…I didn’t think anything was going on though… Sheepy: Sheepy:….is that why we’re out here? I zoned out so I just followed you…. Arsé-kun: Lupin: Oui. It is not a large deal. I was simply unsure if staying put was the best idea. Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh, okay, if you say so. Arsé-kun: *One timeskip to the next day later* Sheepy: Sheepy: Have fun at your meeting. Arsé-kun: Lupin: I most certainly will not. Have fun with those two. Sheepy: Sheepy: Thank you! Arsé-kun: *And Lupin heads out, yippee* Sheepy: Izzy: Heyy. You didn’t tell me what the meeting was about, so I’m not at all prepared!! Arsé-kun: Lupin: I did not because whom is being discussed was present, mademoiselle. Sheepy: Izzy: Ooh, gossip. I love gossip. Arsé-kun: Lupin: Not gossip. Far more important. Sheepy: Izzy: Then what’s it about? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Your missing reaper. Sheepy: Izzy: Really? Sheepy: Izzy: I’ve missed him… Arsé-kun: Lupin: I know where he is. Sheepy: Izzy: You do?! Arsé-kun: Lupin: Oui. He’s back in my apartment. Before you comment, I found him with a Reaper’s ring and it works for him. He also, minus being an Incubi, matches your description. *he shakes his head slightly* I just don’t fully understand how. Sheepy: Izzy:…Hmm… well, it’s not like reapers are set looking… well, human. Arsé-kun: Lupin: My point is, he lost his memory and is unaware of his Reaper status. Sheepy: Izzy: …huh. That’s a problem. Sheepy: Izzy: Who would aim for him with something like this…? That’s kinda stupid of them… were they not aware of the fact he’s my kid? Arsé-kun: Lupin: … The little he recalled was making a deal with someone, immediately followed by them taking.. something. Other than his memory, I presume. Sheepy: Izzy: I should know what’s going on, but… Sheepy: Izzy:…I really don’t. Sheepy: Izzy: He’s of the animal division. Who would he even make a deal with?? Arsé-kun: Lupin: I do not, either. I have never heard of such a thing. Sheepy: Izzy: Where did you find him? I’ll start there. Arsé-kun: Lupin: On the way home. Remember how there was a small forest fire the other day? In that. Sheepy: Izzy: Ah…! Sheepy: Izzy: Okay! I’ll look there. Arsé-kun: Lupin: If you wish to. Sheepy: Izzy: It might be safer if he stays with you, though, because it might’ve been a move against me… Sheepy: Izzy: I have power, but you don’t. Sometimes, safety comes with lack of power. Arsé-kun: Lupin: He does seem to trust me. Even after knowing what it is I do.. Sheepy: Izzy: Well, that makes things easier! Arsé-kun: Lupin: It does. Do you want me to tell him what he is? Sheepy: Izzy: That’s fine by me. Arsé-kun: Lupin: Then I shall. Sheepy: Izzy: Thank you! Arsé-kun: Lupin: Je vous en prie. Sheepy: *Lupin gets a blank look as a reply* Arsé-kun: Lupin: I said you’re welcome. Sheepy: Izzy: Oh! Sheepy: Izzy: Was that all? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Mostly. The only issue with this is that, as an Incubi, he has to feed himself. He completely refuses to do such. *he pauses to word the next statement* So if I begin to make poor performances, I know why. Sheepy: Izzy: Oh…. I see. Sheepy: Izzy: Well, thanks for helping him! Arsé-kun: Lupin: You are quite welcome. Sheepy: Izzy: Poor performance is okay with a reason like this. Arsé-kun: Lupin: I understand. If I am permitted, I will take my leave. Sheepy: Izzy: Fine by me! Arsé-kun: *BYEEEE, LUPIN* Sheepy: *meanwhile, sheepy is having fun with impey and fran is having a hard time keeping up* Sheepy: Fran: I-Impey… wait up…! *he is trying to catch his breath* Sheepy: Fran: I…. I can’t keep up…! Arsé-kun: Impey: *he stops* Do I need to carry you? Sheepy: Fran: N-no! Sheepy: Fran: I’ll try harder to keep up…! Arsé-kun: *ok this sucks back to izzy* Sheepy: Izzy: Well, it was sorta good news, so for once in your existence, you should stop moping! Arsé-kun: *the shadows nearby make a grumbling noise that may or may not be a foreign swear* Sheepy: Izzy: That’s not getting up and enjoying life. Sheepy: Izzy: Are you nervous the shadows will get lonely without you? Arsé-kun: Thanatos: …. You are not funny in the slightest. Sheepy: Izzy: I’m not trying to be funny. Sheepy: Izzy: Is it impossible for me to be concerned about a partner in crime? Arsé-kun: Thanatos: ….. …… Most importantly. From what has been learned, something very foul has gone on. I can only think of one thing capable of such a thing, but it does not make sense. Sheepy: Izzy:?? Arsé-kun: Thanatos: It could not be a wish type deity or being. They do not take without permission and this clearly was such a situation. Sheepy: Izzy: Yeah… Sheepy: Izzy: It’s weird… Sheepy: Izzy: Too bad the only witness doesn’t remember it. Sheepy: Izzy: If he had his memories, we could track down whoever this is, but… Arsé-kun: Thanatos: If he had them, this entire predicament would have been solved. Sheepy: Izzy: That’s true.. Arsé-kun: Thanatos: But he does not. Sheepy: Izzy: Maybe we could try asking wish type deities or beings about it. Sheepy: Izzy: That’s hard though… Arsé-kun: Thanatos: Perhaps. Some are easily offended, as well, so it would be dangerous. Sheepy: Izzy: That’s true. Arsé-kun: Thanatos: Furthermore, even Incubi do not know how they can be “created”, and thus are of no assistance. Sheepy: Izzy: Thanks, Incubi. Sheepy: Izzy: Man… what a choice though. Sheepy: Izzy: An incubus, of all things… Arsé-kun: Thanatos: Mhm. And he refuses to feed? That will not end well. Sheepy: Izzy: Not surprised about that part. Arsé-kun: Thanatos: It will affect both of their performances, possibly permanently. Sheepy: Izzy: That’s an issue, definitely… Arsé-kun: Thanatos: If I recall correctly, sharing energy can only be done for so long before one side is forced to weaken. Incubi are not adapted to do that sort of thing. Sheepy: Izzy: I’m glad Lupin is helping, but I’ll feel bad if he’s damaged in the process. Sheepy: Izzy:…'Forced to weaken’?? Arsé-kun: Thanatos: Not have as much energy as necessary. They may weaken to the point where reversal is impossible. Sheepy: Izzy:…That’s…not good at all… I wonder if Lupin knows this. Arsé-kun: Thanatos: I cannot say. He seemed to know, but may not know the entirety of consequences. Sheepy: Izzy:…maybe I should tell him… Sheepy: Izzy: But you know more about it. Sheepy: Izzy: And I might mess up an important detail.. Arsé-kun: Thanatos: You may. I will come with, though. Sheepy: Izzy: OK! Sheepy: *she goes to visit lupin i guess* Arsé-kun: *She goes and knocks (the door down maybe) but he doesn’t go and get it* Sheepy: Izzy: I feel super rejected! Sheepy: Izzy: What a rude individual! Arsé-kun: Thanatos: ….. *he tests the doorknob. It opens* Sheepy: Izzy: And that’s careless. Arsé-kun: Thanatos: Considering no one else is here… Hm Sheepy: Izzy: Maybe someone broke in. Sheepy: Izzy: That would be no good at all. Arsé-kun: Thanatos: I doubt this scenario. Sheepy: Izzy: No idea, then. Arsé-kun: Thanatos: How about… You do as you intended, and I will check the perimeters. Sheepy: Izzy: So go in? Sounds good to me Arsé-kun: Thanatos: *he walks away. bye* Sheepy: *she goes in* Arsé-kun: *Lupin’s not in the living room!* Sheepy: Izzy: …? Arsé-kun: *Better check a different room!* Arsé-kun: *which* Sheepy: *a room. select a room.* Arsé-kun: *well fuck you, too, theres only two rooms to check nearby* Sheepy: *she checks room #1* Arsé-kun: *that is a bedroom, and he is indeed there* Sheepy: Izzy: *oh whoops. but she’s got a message to give…* Arsé-kun: *well, go wake him up if you need to* Sheepy: Izzy: *she goes and wakes up Lupin* Arsé-kun: Lupin: …….? ?? Sheepy: Izzy: Hi, Thanny told me there’s stuff I still have to tell you. He came along, but I don’t know where he is right now. Sheepy: Izzy: ..By the way, you left your door unlocked. Arsé-kun: Lupin: ..! *he sits up and blinks* I told them to lock it on the way out…. Sheepy: Izzy: So you weren’t the careless one. Arsé-kun: Lupin: Why would I leave it unlocked…? Sheepy: Izzy: *she shrugs* Arsé-kun: Thanatos: *he has returned, and he slinks in, keeping close to the shadows on the wall* Sheepy: Izzy: There’s Thanny. He’s got something important to say to you. Arsé-kun: Thanatos: ….. You. Said you were going to say it. Sheepy: Izzy: Dude…. I don’t remember what you said, just that it was super important for him to know and a great risk to his health. You have all of the weasel words that made it sound as terrifying as it did. Sheepy: Izzy: Oh, right. Arsé-kun: Thanatos: …. I worded it honestly. Sheepy: Izzy: Basically you’re not supposed to transfer energy to him or whatever because after a while it can kill you. Sheepy: Izzy: And dying is bad. Arsé-kun: Lupin: *this is really awkward, and nervewracking.* But of course… Sheepy: Izzy: Can’t Incubi be child friendly in their feeding habits? Arsé-kun: Lupin: N-not that I am aware of… Sheepy: Izzy: I feel bad for your entire species. Arsé-kun: Lupin: …. C-can you guys wait in a different room, perhaps? Sheepy: Izzy: Yup! Arsé-kun: *So Lupin makes himself more presentable, and goes out* Arsé-kun: *We’ve basically covered this already, so lets cut to team Moron: Aka, Impey, Fran, and Sheepy.* Arsé-kun: *the good news is that they’ve finally sat down. the bad news is that Impey is being a disappointment. because he is talking* Sheepy: Sheepy: If you’re going to the moon, I want to go too!! Sheepy: *dont worry fran is good at tuning him out* Arsé-kun: Impey: *0* You’d be a much better partner to go with than Lupin! Sheepy: Sheepy: We can fight aliens on the moon!! Arsé-kun: Impey: I like the way you think! Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh! Is there actually a man on the moon? Sheepy: Sheepy: Doesn’t he get lonely? Arsé-kun: Impey: I’ve got no clue! We need to find out! Sheepy: Sheepy: Let’s be friends with him!! Arsé-kun: Impey: Should we bring Fran, too? Sheepy: Sheepy: Yeah!! Sheepy: Fran: Huh? Bring me where? Arsé-kun: Impey: The moon! Sheepy: Fran: Oh. I’m willing to come. Arsé-kun: Impey: Yaaaay! Sheepy: Fran: It sounds like fun. Arsé-kun: *There’s someone looking at you, Fran* Sheepy: Fran: ….? Sheepy: Fran: Um… can I help you? Arsé-kun: Watson: *howdy* Sheepy: Fran: Oh, um, hi. Arsé-kun: Watson: *he takes Fran’s glasses off his head and onto his face* That may help. Sheepy: Fran: Oh! Watson! Arsé-kun: Watson: Good afternoon, Frankenstein. I will cut directly to the chase. *he returns two books* Sheepy: Fran: Thank you! I hope you enjoyed them. Sheepy: Sheepy:…? Arsé-kun: Watson: I did, yes. Holmes may have learned something, as well. Sheepy: Sheepy: Fran-ken-stein??? Arsé-kun: Impey: I think it’s German. Wait, no, that isn’t right Sheepy: Fran: Oh, good, good. Sheepy: Fran: Er, it is, yes. Arsé-kun: Impey: Oh! I got it right that time! Sheepy: Sheepy: Why is his name long and complicated? Arsé-kun: Impey: Because German is long and complicated! Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh!! Arsé-kun: Watson: ? Don’t tell me you two have adopted a child. Sheepy: Sheepy: Who is this guy? Is he an incubus?? Sheepy: Fran: A friend of ours found him. He had a meeting and asked us to babysit him. Arsé-kun: Watson: Ah, that makes more sense. And no, I am not an incubus. Sheepy: Sheepy: Someone stole something very important from me. I can’t remember a thing. Arsé-kun: Watson: Oh? Perhaps I may be of assistance. I AM a doctor. Sheepy: Sheepy: Really?? Sheepy: Sheepy: That would be super nice!! Arsé-kun: Watson: Yes. I would love to, but now is not the time. I need to catch up with my partner. Perhaps next time we meet we may discuss it further. Sheepy: Sheepy: Thank you very much Mr. not an incubus! Arsé-kun: Watson: Aren’t you funny. You may call me Watson. Sheepy: Sheepy: Okay, Watson! Arsé-kun: *And so Watson goes to find his partner. Where has he gone this time.* Sheepy: Sherlock: Oh! William!! Arsé-kun: Watson: It’s Watson. What are you doing up there? Sheepy: Sherlock: I want to understand how cats feel when they’re in trees. Arsé-kun: Watson: So you can’t get down? Sheepy: Sherlock: You’re very bright, Winchester! Arsé-kun: Watson: I give up. Sheepy: Sherlock: So now I know what they feel is fear! Amazing! Sheepy: Sherlock: If I fall, I could break my neck and die. Sheepy: Sherlock: You should try it out as well! Arsé-kun: Watson: …… I can’t get up there. Sheepy: Sherlock: Why not? Sheepy: Sherlock: It’s very easy! Arsé-kun: Watson: *he, instead, helps Sherlock get down* Arsé-kun: Watson: May I ask you a question, while you are here? Sheepy: Sherlock: Yup! Arsé-kun: Watson: Why is the television always on the weather channel? Sheepy: Sherlock: Oh, er… Arsé-kun: Watson: It’s been two weeks, and I have never seen it off. Do you just like the background noise? Sheepy: Sherlock: Because I need to know if I need an umbrella. Sheepy: Sherlock: That too!! Arsé-kun: Watson: Hm, hm. I see. Sheepy: Sherlock: But, don’t worry about it! You can change it if you want! Arsé-kun: Watson: Oh, no need. I was merely curious. Sheepy: Sherlock: Oh! Okay! Arsé-kun: *So team Moron have returned to the apartment!* Sheepy: Sheepy: We’re back!! Arsé-kun: Lupin: *He’s seated on the sofa, looking rather thoughtful. He does look up, though* Eh? Welcome back! Sheepy: Fran: Watson said that he may help later. Arsé-kun: Lupin: Oh? How..? Sheepy: Fran: Um, checking him, I guess. Arsé-kun: Lupin: I suppose that would be helpful… Sheepy: Fran: I didn’t really think to ask why. Sheepy: Sheepy: He might figure out how I can feed without needing to use other people to do so… Sheepy: Sheepy: Because doctors know everything, right?? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Sure. Sheepy: Sheepy: Great!! Sheepy: Sheepy: I’m gonna get my memories back soon at this rate!! Arsé-kun: Impey: :D Sheepy: Fran: Er… yeah. Sheepy: Fran: Ah… it occurs to me now… I was meant to be the one who locked the door, wasn’t I? But I forgot… my apologies! Arsé-kun: Lupin: Perhaps. No harm done. Sheepy: Fran: I’ll check next time! Sheepy: Fran: I’ll do my best to remember it in the future. Arsé-kun: Lupin: That’s fine. How did today’s outing go? Sheepy: Sheepy: It was really fun!! Arsé-kun: Lupin: I’m glad. Sheepy: Sheepy: Impey and I are going to go befriend the man on the moon one day!! Arsé-kun: Lupin: Oh? Have fun. Sheepy: Sheepy: Yeah!! Sheepy: Sheepy: Fran’s coming too!! Sheepy: Fran: Oh, right, I am.. Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he nods.* Have fun, you three. And Fran, if I may, when do you have to work again? Sheepy: Fran: Oh, uh… I’ll need to check that for you… I’ve forgotten the date. Sheepy: Fran: Why do you ask? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Well, I would not want you to miss work trying to reach the moon with these children. *he sounds like he’s joking, but he isn’t smiling* Sheepy: Fran: Is something wrong, Lupin? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Yes. Impey’s mouth is open, he’s about to speak. God save us. *again, he sounds like he’s kidding* Arsé-kun: *Impey promptly flips Lupin off from the safety of behind Fran* Sheepy: Fran: You seem upset… Arsé-kun: Lupin: Not upset. Do not worry yourself over it. Sheepy: Fran: You’re making me worry more. Sheepy: Sheepy: Maybe he got fired. Arsé-kun: Lupin: I- Non. Not at all. Sheepy: Sheepy: *he seems curious anout what’s up* Arsé-kun: Lupin: There is no way to put this lightly. Sheepy, we need to talk. Sheepy: Sheepy: Okay!! Sheepy: Fran: Impey, we should let them, er, talk alone. Arsé-kun: Impey: Should we “get a room”? Sheepy: Fran: Not in that sense Arsé-kun: Impey: I’m being bullied. Sheepy: Fran: But, Impey, we really shouldn’t. It might unnerve them. Arsé-kun: Impey: I’m going to starve and die. Arsé-kun: Impey: Not really! We’ll head upstairs, Lupe! Sheepy: Fran: Thanks Impey. Arsé-kun: *so fran and impey leave, I guess* Sheepy: Sheepy: OK!! What did you want to tell me? Arsé-kun: Lupin: … Quite a bit, actually. Sit down. Sheepy: Sheepy: *he sits down* Arsé-kun: Lupin: I’ll start with the good news. *he grins rather suddenly* My boss and I were able to figure out who you were! Sheepy: Sheepy: Really??? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Oui! Sheepy: Sheepy: Who am I?? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Well, you were actually originally under her service helping animals. She had commented on losing one of her reapers, but I had never thought about it.. Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh!! That makes sense! Arsé-kun: Lupin: It does. The only part we are unsure about is how you became an incubus, as you were not before. Sheepy: Sheepy: I don’t know, either. But the person who made me lose my memories is definitely the one who made me this way. Arsé-kun: Lupin: I am inclined to agree. Sheepy: Sheepy: And they stole my special thing! How could they…? Sheepy: Sheepy: Good news implies there’s bad news, though… Arsé-kun: Lupin: Correct. Arsé-kun: *Lupin then explains what Izzy and Thanatos told him regarding the energy passing* Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh… Sheepy: Sheepy: Hmm… I don’t know what to do. Arsé-kun: Lupin: Nor do I… Sheepy: Sheepy: Because I don’t want to do that. Sheepy: Sheepy: It’s not right to leech off of people, I think. Arsé-kun: Lupin: It isn’t as if we have much of a choice. Sheepy: Sheepy: But it’s gross to do it that way. Arsé-kun: Lupin: Considering you’re also a reaper, you may not have to. Sheepy: Sheepy: Yeah, that makes sense to me!! Arsé-kun: Lupin: There is food in the fridge. … I don’t know if it’s any good, but it is there. Sheepy: Sheepy: That could work! Arsé-kun: Lupin: I’ll have to ask her next time I see her. Sheepy: Sheepy: Thanks a lot!! Sheepy: Sheepy: I doubt most people would be as kind as you. Sheepy: Sheepy: So I’m lucky you’re the one who found me! Arsé-kun: Lupin: I Sheepy: Sheepy:…? Sheepy: Sheepy: Is everything okay? Sheepy: Sheepy: Did i say something weird? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Did we not have the discussion where I disagreed with your statement already? Sheepy: Sheepy: I still think so. Arsé-kun: Lupin: I continue to disagree. Sheepy: Sheepy: It’s still my opinion. Arsé-kun: Lupin: I suppose. Sheepy: Sheepy: But, thank your boss for me too!! Sheepy: Tom: woa Sheepy: Tom: did you guys miss me Sheepy: Tom: i went on an adventure Sheepy: Tom: it was very exciting. i was a dog toy Arsé-kun: Lupin: YES, Tom. Sheepy: Tom: they’re sharp and hurt my dog toy soul Sheepy: Tom: im just an innocent little dog toy Sheepy: Tom: you should join me next time lupin Sheepy: Tom: although on a full moon you’d be a dog toy too Arsé-kun: Lupin: … What? Sheepy: Tom: it’d rip you to shreds on a full moon probably and if you live you won’t enjoy the next full moon Arsé-kun: Lupin: What are you talking about? Sheepy: Tom: i saw some things lupin Sheepy: Tom: like a guy turning into a dog. it was disturbing Sheepy: Tom: it must be what furries dream of Arsé-kun: Lupin: I… see. Sheepy: Tom: id be careful on a full moon Sheepy: Tom: because theres a furry on the loose Sheepy: Tom: although i guess they’re called werewolves? whatever just dont get bit Sheepy: Tom: or you’ll get sick as a dog Sheepy: Tom: heh Arsé-kun: Impey: *from at least two floors below them* WHO IS TALKING ABOUT DOGS WITHOUT ME?? Sheepy: Tom: i am Sheepy: Tom: you can join Sheepy: Tom: its important for health anyway Arsé-kun: *Impey enters mere moments later* Sheepy: Tom: hey Sheepy: Tom: theres a werewolf Sheepy: Tom: i posed as a dog toy Sheepy: Tom: it threw me around Arsé-kun: Impey: *he goes from excited to… more excited* Seriously?? I haven’t seen one of those yet! Sheepy: Tom: and then got sad there was no one to play with Sheepy: Tom: yea. it was disturbing watching the transformation Sheepy: Tom: i could tell you where it is if you wanna see Arsé-kun: Impey: Yeah, yeah, yea- Arsé-kun: Lupin: Non. We are not putting any of ourselves in danger just because you want to see a dog. Sheepy: Tom: suit yourself I guess Sheepy: Tom: i doubt youll ever go over to their residence or anything anyway Sheepy: Tom: and you should be ok anyway if you dont come over for dinner Arsé-kun: Lupin: All right, that’s enough. Sheepy: Tom: woah Arsé-kun: Impey: Woah? Sheepy: Tom: lupin hates dogs Arsé-kun: Lupin: I do not. Sheepy: Sheepy: Why are inflammable things flammable? Arsé-kun: Lupin: …….. What did you do? Sheepy: Sheepy: I messed up. Arsé-kun: Lupin: … *he gets up to look* Sheepy: Sheepy: I tried cooking. Arsé-kun: Impey: … Tom, my dude, my buddy, you gotta show me. Sheepy: Tom: ok i can show you Sheepy: Sheepy: Is salad meant to be cooked like this?? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Don’t ever say those words in that sentence ever again. Sheepy: Sheepy:? Sheepy: Tom: come and we will gaze upon a pup Arsé-kun: *By the time Sheepy and Lupin clean up, Impey and Tom are gone. Okay.* Sheepy: Sheepy: Huh. They left. Arsé-kun: Lupin: Seems so. Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh well!! Sheepy: Sheepy: In a way, though, it’d be terrible if the person who’s a werewolf was living with someone, because isn’t Impey basically breaking into their house? Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he shrugs* Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh, um.. why does your boss make you do what she makes you do? Arsé-kun: Lupin: I… am not actually sure? Sheepy: Sheepy: …You aren’t??? Sheepy: Sheepy: Maybe it’s some evil plot to take over the world and your'e actually helping!! Arsé-kun: Lupin: I.. doubt that. Sheepy: Sheepy: What do you think it is then??? Arsé-kun: Lupin: If I am correct, reapers are not allowed to kill, but I have heard utterings of people having to die by a certain point. That may be it. Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh, I see.. Sheepy: Sheepy: Why’d you choose this job, though?? Arsé-kun: Lupin: … I didn’t. Sheepy: Sheepy: Did she force you into it or something? She seems like the type. Arsé-kun: Lupin: More or less. Sheepy: Sheepy: She’s a jerk. Arsé-kun: Lupin: Sometimes, yes. Sheepy: Sheepy: I’m glad I don’t have to work for her!! Arsé-kun: Lupin: A news update: All reapers work for her. Sheepy: Sheepy: Huuuhhh??? Arsé-kun: Lupin: She is one of the two bosses of the reapers. You are one. Sheepy: Sheepy: That stinks…!! Arsé-kun: Lupin: Oui, and- Sheepy: Izzy: *she slams in* Hey, hey, hey!! Did you tell him yet??? Arsé-kun: Lupin: *jESUS CHRIST* Oui, oui I did, don’t do that! Sheepy: Izzy: Don’t do what? Talk in my normal voice and enter in my normal manner? Sheepy: Izzy: You’re super duper demanding! Arsé-kun: Lupin: Maybe so, but it would be appreciated, mademoiselle! Sheepy: Izzy: *groan* Fiiiine. Sheepy: Izzy: Oh! Don’t worry. I’m not so cruel as to make someone work when they don’t remember who they are. Sheepy: Izzy: Maybe. Sheepy: Izzy: Unless we’re understaffed. Arsé-kun: Lupin: Is that ever? Sheepy: Izzy: I don’t think so. Sheepy: Izzy: We sorta just work our entire lives forever and ever and never really die, I think. Sheepy: Izzy: Or something. Sheepy: Izzy: I don’t really think about it. Arsé-kun: Lupin: That sounds horrible. Sheepy: Izzy: I mean I guess we don’t exactly have to work, but our existence doesn’t have much purpose if we don’t. Sheepy: Izzy: Considering that reapers are specifically made for the purpose of reaping souls. Arsé-kun: Lupin: I figured you had only meant taking vacations. Arsé-kun: *meanwhile in Tom and Impey town* Sheepy: Tom: it was here Arsé-kun: Impey: I hope you mean that yard, and not this tree! Sheepy: Tom: the yard Arsé-kun: Impey: Okay, good. Sheepy: Tom: although maybe he wanted to be a cat Sheepy: Tom: you dont know Arsé-kun: Impey: Maybe. Either way, now we know where it’s coming from if anyone is hurt by it. Sheepy: Tom: yeah Sheepy: Tom: it threw me around. it was very sad. that must be the life of a dog toy Sheepy: Tom: you only realize just how reliant a dog toy is on a dog for friendship when the dog ditches you. Sheepy: Tom: although the fact that hes a werewolf implies that theres another one Sheepy: Tom: so we cant be sure its this one Arsé-kun: Impey: That’s true! It’s too bad me and Fran live elsewhere. Sheepy: Tom: its ok Sheepy: Tom: secret agent tom is here to Sheepy: Tom: die Sheepy: Tom: woah Sheepy: Tom: bird gender Sheepy: Tom: ill deduce things because im sherlock holmes ii baby Sheepy: Tom: heck yeah Arsé-kun: Impey: does that make me the john to your sherlock Sheepy: Tom: yeah Arsé-kun: Impey: I’m finally important, my dreams have come true. Sheepy: Tom: were gonna solve the case Sheepy: Tom: we probably wont need to worry about it though Arsé-kun: *ok this is boring so MEANWHILE NOWHERE CLOSE TO HERE* Sheepy: Sherlock: Willy.. it’s much too quiet. How is a detective like me going to get cases when there’s no crime?? Arsé-kun: Watson: Tack on “supernatural” to your title. Wait. Sheepy: Sherlock: I’m not at all supernatural, Wayne. Arsé-kun: Watson: I suppose. Sheepy: Sherlock: To us, we’re completely normal. For others… Sheepy: Sherlock: I believe we’re the weirdest ones here. Arsé-kun: Watson: (or you are.) Hm, hm. Sheepy: Sherlock: At least Mrs. Hudson doesn’t think we’re weird. That’s a plus. Arsé-kun: Watson: I’m very glad for that. Sheepy: Sherlock: And you don’t think I’m weird either, so that’s nice, Walter. Arsé-kun: Watson: You’re just interesting. Sheepy: Sherlock: Thank you!! *sherlock no need to bear hug him- you know what nevermind* That’s the nicest thing anyone has said to me for a while!!! Arsé-kun: Watson: You’re, err, quite welcome, Holmes. Arsé-kun: Watson: They’re strange. Sheepy: Sherlock: Yeah!!! Sheepy: Sherlock: You are the only one who has called me “interesting” rather than “strange”.. Sheepy: Sherlock: It’s a relief someone feels that way, Wilson! Arsé-kun: Watson: Now if only you got my name right. Sheepy: Sherlock: I do my best… Sheepy: Sherlock: Do you have a non-W name I can try? Sheepy: Sherlock: W is a hard letter. Arsé-kun: Watson: Do you not remember that, either? Sheepy: Sherlock: I don’t. It’s… er, ehhh, Jjjjooohn…ny??? Sheepy: Sherlock: I think it’s Johnny? Sheepy: Sherlock: Maybe Jim… no, no, don’t tell me, I’ll get it eventually. Let me just search my memory. I’m sure it’s there. Arsé-kun: Watson: You were close. Sheepy: Sherlock: Hmm… Sheepy: Sherlock: Johnson???? Something like that??? Arsé-kun: Watson: Close. Sheepy: Sherlock: Oh, oh! John, right? Arsé-kun: Watson: you’ve got it! Sheepy: Sherlock: Great!! I told you I could get it! Arsé-kun: Watson: You did. Sheepy: *sherlock seems much happier about being right than he should.* Sheepy: Sherlock: But… why was I trying to guess your name, again? Sheepy: Sherlock: Oh well! If it were important, I wouldn’t have forgotten it. Arsé-kun: Watson: Indeed. Sheepy: Sherlock: It’s very sad. Sheepy: Sherlock: Maybe I should have chosen an area with more crime as my base of operations.. Arsé-kun: Watson: I don’t know. I think I may have something for you to work on. Sheepy: Sherlock: Really?! Arsé-kun: *Watson then repeats the information he had been given on Sheepy’s memory being stolen.* Sheepy: Sherlock: Oh…! Sheepy: Sherlock: Sounds interesting!! Sheepy: Sherlock: I’ll take the case and meet up with the kid!! I guess I should tell him that. Sheepy: Sherlock: I don’t know who he us though.. Arsé-kun: Watson: You can come when I speak with him. Sheepy: Sherlock: Really?? Thank you!! Sheepy: Sherlock: I appreciate it! Sheepy: Sherlock: Because even my caramel is feeling what it is to be lonely and without a single thing to be interested in… Sheepy: Sherlock: And my violin is sad. Sheepy: Sherlock: But Wag seems happy as ever… Sheepy: *speaking of Wag, he is here now.* Sheepy: Wag: *he hops up onto Watson’s lap. hello. I am here now!* Sheepy: Wag: *meow* Arsé-kun: Watson: *small kitty. you are my friend now? pet, pet* Sheepy: Wag: *no im a ruler and this is my throne but I’m okay with being called a friend* Arsé-kun: Watson: So, is Wag the reason there is fur all over your apartment? Sheepy: Sherlock: Yes. He was a friend’s, but they’re living somewhere that doesn’t accept pets, so they gave Wag to me. Arsé-kun: Watson: Ah, that makes sense. Sheepy: Sherlock: He likes breaking things, too, so I’d recommend not letting him get around anything fragile. Sheepy: Sherlock: Cats are cruel.. Arsé-kun: Watson: I may be inclined to agree. Sheepy: Sherlock: He knocked over some of my chemistry stuff earlier… Sheepy: Wag: *meow* Sheepy: Sherlock: And he likes to make direct eye contact with me and knock things off of places so they break. Sheepy: Wag: *what is this weird human speak? I don’t get it. let me imitate it. meow. I am part of the conversation now. acknowledge my existence. I want attention only because you aren’t giving it to me. if you were, I wouldn’t want it.* Arsé-kun: Watson: *he pets Wag* Sheepy: Wag: *good.* Sheepy: Sherlock: By the way, when’re you going to check out that kid? Arsé-kun: Watson: When they call over. His temporary parent has my number. Sheepy: Sherlock: Oh, really? Hmm.. oh well. At least it means I’ll get a case eventually. Arsé-kun: Watson: Here’s a case: Why is this place so messy? Didn’t we clean up last week? Sheepy: Sherlock: *he crosses his arms* … Who am I supposed to question about that? I can’t make myself break down and tell a truth that not even I know… Arsé-kun: Watson: It’s probably possible. Lets clean up. Sheepy: Sherlock: Alright! Sounds good to me! Arsé-kun: *SO THEY CLEAN* Arsé-kun: *also wag got in the way a lot. sherlock gets a cat to the face* Sheepy: Sherlock: It looks much better in here now! Arsé-kun: Watson: That, it does. Sheepy: Sherlock: It’s never like this!! Sheepy: Sherlock: I don’t recall really cleaning at all before you moved in, actually. Arsé-kun: Watson: How did you survive? Sheepy: Sherlock: I just avoided the mess. Arsé-kun: Watson: …. I’m inclined to ask. Sheepy: Sherlock: Hudson reminds me that eating, drinking, and sleeping are daily needs. Cleaning, she doesn’t ask me to do as much. Sheepy: Sherlock: She’s not so pushy about the sleeping part, either, really. Sheepy: Sherlock: So… Sheepy: Sherlock: It isn’t too important, if I forget it, I think. Arsé-kun: Watson: We’ll see about that. Sheepy: Sherlock: Although… I guess you’re a doctor, right? Sheepy: Sherlock: I guess whatever you say is necessary for the human body, is necessary for the human body… oh well. Arsé-kun: *and we skip ahead to much later* Arsé-kun: *Watson glances towards the hallway as a CRASH was heard, and he spots a shadow against the wall. A particularly large one. He peeks out, and it’s.. Wagahai, standing next to a downed lamp.* Sheepy: Wag: *meow* Arsé-kun: Watson: *he seems relieved. Also, the front door closes. Did Sherlock leave? Whatever, it’s too late to chase him.* Sheepy: Wag: *he doesn’t appear to think anything weird is happening* Arsé-kun: *so where’s sherlock?* Sheepy: *there is a noise of something bumping at the door. Hudson goes to get the door and. THE DOG IS IN* Arsé-kun: Watson: *WHAT IS THAT. IS THAT A DOG* Sheepy: Dog: *I AM HERE NOW!!! HELLO EVERYONE!!* Sheepy: *Hudson doesn’t seem all too surprised about this. Wag goes over to greet the dog.* Arsé-kun: Watson: *he heads out and leans slightly over the banister* Holmes never mentioned having a canine to me..! Sheepy: Hudson: Oh… this pup isn’t Holmes’. I really wouldn’t worry about him, though. He’s very friendly. Arsé-kun: Watson: *he slowly comes downstairs and Wow that is a Big Dog* Sheepy: Dog: *THAT LOOKS LIKE FRIEND MATERIAL!!! LET ME WAG MY TAIL AND ACT SUPER EXCITED* Sheepy: Wag: *meow* Arsé-kun: Watson: Ms. Hudson, pardon my asking, but are you quite sure that is a dog..? Sheepy: Hudson: It certainly acts like one. Sheepy: Dog: *it jumps onto Watson. HELLO HELLO I AM DOG I HAVE BIG TEETH BUT IGNORE THAT IM 100% A DOG* Arsé-kun: Watson: *#dead. not really but that is a really big dog* Are you sure this is not some sort of wolf?? Sheepy: Hudson: I’ve never really thought about it. Sheepy: Hudson: It does have some unusual traits for a dog. Arsé-kun: Watson: Erm, all right.. *he goes to pat the pup’s head* Sheepy: Iris: *where did she come from? wag breaking the lamp probably awoke her.* Oh! Shirley’s here! Sheepy: Dog: *MORE PEOPLE LEMME JUST ACT EXCITED* Arsé-kun: Watson: *he takes a moment or so to register “Shirley”* Sheepy: Iris: He’s got a really bad habit of knocking stuff over. Sheepy: Dog: *whimper* Arsé-kun: Watson: So.. Like.. Holmes. Sheepy: Iris: Yup! They’re really alike, aren’t they? Sheepy: Iris: Dogs and Holmsies, I mean. They’re both always sticking their heads in places that they shouldn’t. Arsé-kun: Watson: I had been under the belief you called Holmes “Shirley”. Sheepy: Iris: Huh? I like both names, really. It’s just a bit strange calling him “Shirley” to you! Arsé-kun: Watson: So both names are still for Holmes. Sheepy: Iris: Uh-huh! Sheepy: Iris: So that’s why I called the puppy “Shirley”! Sheepy: Dog: *bark* Arsé-kun: Watson: And where did Holmes go? Sheepy: Iris: He’s right there. *she points to the dog* Arsé-kun: Watson: … I was quite hoping it would not lead to the conclusion it would. It does explain quite a bit. Sheepy: Iris: Holmsies told me not to say anything, but we’re all living in the same household, so… Sheepy: Iris: It wouldn’t be nice to leave you out. Sheepy: Sherlock: *woof* Sheepy: Iris: He waltzed in with his head stuck in a tire. Sheepy: Iris: Hudsie and I had to help him. Arsé-kun: Watson: …. I am not surprised. Sheepy: Sherlock: *I’m right here while you’re talking trash about me* Arsé-kun: Watson: How long has this been happening? Sheepy: Iris: Holmsies said he was born this way. Arsé-kun: Watson: *he looks surprised* I had no idea. Sheepy: Iris: I should’ve based bunny Holmsies after a dog instead of a rabbit.. Sheepy: Iris: He was complaining that he wasn’t some undignified, brutish werewolf and was something else entirely, but… Sheepy: Iris: Holmsies has a bad habit of rambling until people stop listening Arsé-kun: Watson: Perhaps we should stop speaking as if he is not present. Sheepy: Sherlock: *IM RIGHT HERE!!! YOU TELL EM WILSON* Sheepy: Sherlock: *with some difficulty* you tell her wantson Arsé-kun: Watson: That is the closest you have gotten all day. Sheepy: Sherlock: *whimper* Arsé-kun: Watson: At least, that I am aware of. *sherlock gets a headpat* Sheepy: Sherlock: *yea thats right I did get it right today* Sheepy: Wag: *meow* Arsé-kun: *Later that day!* Arsé-kun: Lupin: N-no, Sheepy, that’s not how you cook at all.. Let me show you. Sheepy: Sheepy: *he lets Lupin get to it* OK… Arsé-kun: Lupin: *so he shows Sheepy the proper way to do it-* Arsé-kun: *Which is interrupted by Impey correcting THAT.* Sheepy: Sheepy: *he seems confused* Arsé-kun: Impey: ..? Sheepy: Sheepy: *there are way too many ways to do this right. why is there not one way.* Arsé-kun: Impey: *because cooks are weird.* Sheepy: Sheepy: Cooking is weird! Arsé-kun: Impey: It really is. Sheepy: Sheepy: But I’ll do my best to figure it out! Sheepy: *One’s sherlock senses are going off really strong right now. Oh, wait, that’s because he’s talking loudly and one can hear him from inside.* Sheepy: Sheepy: Who’s that? Arsé-kun: Lupin: … Oh, no. Sheepy: Sheepy:….? Sheepy: Sheepy: What’s wrong? Arsé-kun: Lupin: ….. He’s kind of a…. How do I say.. Imbecile. Sheepy: Sheepy: Imbecile? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Idiot. Sheepy: Sheepy: Why? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Well- Sheepy: *Sherlock may or may not have kicked the door in in order to enter* Sheepy: Sherlock: Hi! Sheepy: Sherlock: *he gives Lupin a big hug* I missed you!!! Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he looks startled and uncomfortable* Please stop Sheepy: Sherlock: …? Huh? But… Arsé-kun: Lupin: … Kicking in my door. It’s going to fall off one day when you do that! Sheepy: Sherlock: Oh! Okay! I just missed you! I couldn’t help myself! Arsé-kun: Lupin: It hasn’t been that long..! … Has it? Sheepy: Sherlock: It has! Arsé-kun: *And Watson finally catches up, having taken the shitty elevator.* Sheepy: Sherlock: Oh, Wilson, there you are! Arsé-kun: Watson: *why do you hurt me in this way* Sheepy: Sheepy: Are you a dummy, too? Arsé-kun: Watson: I don’t even get a hello before I get insulted? Sheepy: Sheepy: But Lupin calls Sherlock a dummy and he never said 'hello’… Sheepy: Sheepy: So I asked you to make sure if I’m supposed to say hello to you or not. Arsé-kun: Lupin: ….. You’re still touching me. Sheepy: Sherlock: Is that bad? Arsé-kun: Lupin: I need to breathe. Sheepy: Sherlock: Oh! Breathing is important, right! *he lets go* Arsé-kun: Lupin: Thank you. Sheepy: Sherlock: You’re welcome! I got too excited! Sheepy: Sherlock: I dunno why we’re here! But I’m very excited to see you again! Verrrry excited!! It makes me want to wag my tail! Sheepy: Sherlock:…. Sheepy: Sherlock: Figuratively. Arsé-kun: Lupin: Yes. Figuratively. Sheepy: Sherlock: But that’s how it makes me feel! Arsé-kun: Lupin: I.. See.. Sheepy: Sherlock: Is there something weird about that? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Non. Sheepy: Sherlock: Oh, good! Sheepy: Sherlock: So, why are we here? Arsé-kun: Watson: I was going to speak with Sheepy. You came because you wanted to. Sheepy: Sherlock: Oh, okay! Sheepy: Sheepy: What did you want to speak to me about? Arsé-kun: Watson: Your memory loss. Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh! Sheepy: Sheepy: Ask away! Sheepy: Sheepy: I can’t tell how much I can answer, though. Arsé-kun: Watson: I’ll keep the questions simple, if that will help. Sheepy: Sheepy: OK! Arsé-kun: Watson: … Let’s start at the beginning. Is there anything you do remember? Sheepy: Sheepy: I made a deal with someone and they didn’t keep their side of the deal. Sheepy: Sheepy: They stole my memories and made me like this. Arsé-kun: Watson: And nothing else? Sheepy: Sheepy: Huh? You mean, did they steal anything else or do I remember anything else? Sheepy: Sheepy: Because that’s all they stole, and I don’t think I remember much else. Arsé-kun: Watson: Hm. And nothing has seemed familiar to you? Sheepy: Sheepy: Familiar? I don’t know… it’s more that I get a strong feeling when something is unfamiliar. Sheepy: Sheepy: Like this body. Arsé-kun: Watson: It’s a start, I suppose. Sheepy: Sheepy: I’ve been trying ti figure out what I asked for that they didn’t give. Sheepy: Sheepy:…Really, all I know is that they didn’t. Arsé-kun: Watson: Are you quite sure? If you don’t remember, maybe you did ask for whatever changed. Sheepy: Sheepy: I can’t see why I would… Sheepy: Sheepy: I want to remember… Arsé-kun: Watson: It takes time. Sheepy: Sheepy: I just remember feeling incredibly upset and thinking I’d been cheated… Sheepy: Sherlock: I often feel that way when I go to the store. Arsé-kun: Lupin: …. ? *he pauses and looks towards the kitchen* Impey, are you baking again?? Sheepy: Sheepy: Impey bakes? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Yes, and quite well. … I’m going to need to go grocery shopping again. Sheepy: Sheepy: I’ve never been to a grocery store before! Can I come? Arsé-kun: Lupin: I suppose? Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh, um, I had a thought. Arsé-kun: Watson: Hmm? Sheepy: Sheepy: Wasn’t your boss putting up missing posters for one of her reapers earlier, and that ended up being me? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Yes, that’s right. Sheepy: Sheepy: Do you think she has any left? Maybe seeing how I looked before hand would help. Arsé-kun: Lupin: That… That is a fantastic idea, actually. Sheepy: Sheepy: Really? Arsé-kun: Watson: I am inclined to agree. Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh, that’s great! Arsé-kun: *also everyone can smell the smell of BAKING.* Sheepy: Sherlock: *IT SMELLS LIKE BAKING and also chemicals, faintly?* Arsé-kun: Lupin: …. Impey, tell your boyfriend to not do alchemy right under the vent. Sheepy: Sheepy: Why does Impey cook if he doesn’t eat food? Arsé-kun: Lupin: I never said we couldn’t eat food. In fact, I told you we could. Sheepy: Sheepy: But… but don’t Incubi have a restricted diet? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Well, yes, but Impey knows how to go around that. Sheepy: Sheepy: Ohhh.. Sheepy: Izzy: ARSENE YOURE HAVING A PARTY WITHOUT ME?? Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he nearly jumps out of his chair* N-non, mademoiselle..!! Sheepy: Izzy: I thought you were my friend. Sheepy: Izzy: You even invited… Sheepy: Izzy:….. Arsé-kun: Lupin: I did not. Sheepy: Izzy: Holmlock Shears and uh… Sheepy: Izzy:…….. Sheepy: Izzy:….Some guy off the street maybe? Arsé-kun: Watson: *he looks done* Sheepy: Sherlock: Huh? His name isn’t Holmlock Shears. Arsé-kun: Lupin: A-anyway, mademoiselle, would you happen to have any of those lost posters left? Sheepy: Izzy: No, that’s your name. Sheepy: Izzy: HECK YEAH I DO!! Arsé-kun: Lupin: May we have one? Sheepy wanted to see it. Sheepy: Izzy: *she takes one out and gives it to Lupin* Thanny was like, “this is stupid!” and left. Sheepy: Izzy: So I designed it on my own! Arsé-kun: *Lupin immediately passes it to Sheepy* Sheepy: Izzy: There’s the most recent photo I had and then a baby picture. Sheepy: Izzy: Because I can show off any baby photos I want on missing people posters! Arsé-kun: Lupin: That’s… Uh, not how it works, I think…. Sheepy: Sheepy: Um, but… this kid looks younger than me. Arsé-kun: Lupin: I see the similarities, though. Sheepy: Izzy: Oh, yeah! I rule over violent death! I’m one of the main reapers! Nice to meet you two. Sheepy: Izzy: Don’t worry! You have lots of time ahead of you! Sheepy: Izzy:….Although. Sheepy: Izzy: How do I phrase this…?? Sheepy: Izzy: Well, it’s not too important I guess? Arsé-kun: Lupin: ….? Sheepy: Izzy: Your friend has a soul, right? Like, he’s supposed to have one? Sheepy: Izzy: The geeky one. Arsé-kun: Impey: *he comes in, with cake. Impey, why* Huh? Yeah?? Sheepy: Izzy: Is that so…. Arsé-kun: Impey: *he puts the cake down, looking worried* Shhhould I call him? Sheepy: Izzy: Lemme just say this as bluntly as possible. Sheepy: Izzy: He doesn’t. Sheepy: Izzy: I stopped detecting it a while ago. Like, when I got here. Arsé-kun: *Impey takes out a cell phone and calls Fran. Everyone can hear Fran’s phone ringing downstairs. .. He does not answer it.* Sheepy: Izzy: Huh…. Arsé-kun: Impey: ……… Sheepy: Izzy: And I thought he was supposed to have maaaaannnyyy years ahead of him. Sheepy: Izzy:…. Arsé-kun: Impey: …. Wait, are you saying what I think you’re saying?! Sheepy: Izzy: Sort of? Sheepy: Izzy: We reap souls when people die, so… Arsé-kun: *Impey fucking bails at the speed of GONE.* Sheepy: Izzy: ? What’s up with him? Arsé-kun: Lupin: …. Were you saying that he died..? Sheepy: Izzy: I dunno if he’s DEAD…. Arsé-kun: Lupin: You don’t know…??? Sheepy: Izzy: I can’t tell. Sheepy: Izzy: OK, kiddo! I bet you want to see a real live dead body, right? Let’s go! Sheepy: Sheepy: But- Sheepy: Izzy: *she grabs Sheepy’s hand and rushes towards the scene of the crime* Arsé-kun: Watson: what just happened Sheepy: Sherlock: I have no idea! Sheepy: Sherlock: Should we follow them? Arsé-kun: Lupin: It would probably be for the best. Sheepy: Sherlock: But how much would we help? … I guess they’ll get mad if we don’t go… Arsé-kun: Lupin: … I don’t think we could do much, in actuality. Sheepy: Sherlock: Huh? Really? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Perhaps. Sheepy: Sherlock: Oh well. Arsé-kun: Watson: Shall we have cake, then? Sheepy: Sherlock: Um, but what if that guy is dying? Arsé-kun: Watson: I have the feeling that it’s out of my league. Sheepy: Sherlock: I’m of no use either. Arsé-kun: Lupin: Me, too. Sheepy: Sherlock: Maybe later. Sheepy: Sherlock: I guess I AM a detective but… Arsé-kun: *More importantly, downstairs..* Arsé-kun: *Impey’s trying to revive Fran. At least Fran isn’t dead.* Sheepy: Fran: *he collapsed at the table. the alchemy stuff is untouched. a card was left and something was etched into the table.* Sheepy: *….fran is also completely unresponsive…* Sheepy: Izzy: Hmmm… Arsé-kun: Impey: –Fran?? *he shakes Fran* C'mon! Wake up! Sheepy: *he doesn’t wake up.* Sheepy: *he’s still breathing… maybe he really is sleeping?* Arsé-kun: Impey: …… *he’s fallen quiet, but he’s still trying* Sheepy: Izzy: It’s not gonna work. Sheepy: Izzy: People need their souls. They can’t live very long without them. Arsé-kun: Impey: …………….. …………….. *he slowly stops* Sheepy: Sheepy: Let’s find who took it and get it back! Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he finally joins them* Eh? We can do that? Arsé-kun: *Impey has sat down next to Fran, an expression of sadness beginning to form on his usually-cheerful face. He slowly and carefully pulls Fran into a gentle embrace, burying his face in Fran’s shoulder. He shakes and shudders, silently weeping in fear and sorrow. On the occasion that he raises or turns his head, his tears are able to flow more freely. His eyes seem to have lost their usual shine, replaced with a dull, red glaze. He is absolutely and completely broken-hearted. “Victor….” Sheepy: Sheepy:!! Oh, no! Impey, don’t cry! … … I’ll figure it out!! Sheepy: Izzy: *she is reading the card.* … … Those idiots! They think they can steal MY kill?! That was gonna be mine!! Sheepy: Izzy: I can’t just accept this! Sheepy: Sheepy: *he’s looking at what’s etched on the table* This symbol… Sheepy: *a big, furry dog has entered! he sticks his snout in Impey’s face. hellooooo gimme attention. the dog pauses, gets up on its hind legs, and wraps his forelegs around impey* Sheepy: Dog: *boof. please ignore how big and sharp my teeth are, and how muscular I look when I stand* Sheepy: Izzy: Just what we need, a dog! Hey,doggy, do you smell any smells? Any smells that can find the culprit? Sheepy: Dog: *he sniffs at the card Izzy has put in front of his face, getting one of those big dumb dog grins on his face and a quickened tail-wagging rate* Arsé-kun: Lupin: ……. *he backed away when the dog first arrived, and is watching it with a look of discomfort and nervousness.* Arsé-kun: Watson: *he finally catches up, again* Arsé-kun: Impey: ….? *he slowly looks at Dog. Dooog?* Sheepy: Dog: *please stop crying and give me attention. I am Important.* Arsé-kun: Impey: *he slowly reaches up and pats the dog.* Sheepy: Dog: *he licks Impey’s face. gross.* Arsé-kun: Impey: H-hey! Sheepy: Dog: Hey? Hey! Hey! Hey! *woof* Arsé-kun: Watson: Holmes, that was unsanitary. Sheepy: Dog: *whimper* Sheepy: Sherlock: you’re the wan with the unsanitary mouth. Arsé-kun: *Impey’s kind of staring at Sherlock. Lupin is still uncomfortable* Arsé-kun: Lupin: ……. So now you’re so happy you’re wagging your tail. Literally. Sheepy: Sherlock: I’m vvveeeeerrrryyyyyy excited to help!!! Sheepy: Sherlock: I’ve never been more excited!!! except when I saw a squirrel a few days ago!!!! I chased it into a tree and got stuck! but wilson helped!! Arsé-kun: Watson: *deadpan* watson. Sheepy: Sherlock: the card has a smell! I smell a trail! follow me follow me follow me!! Sheepy: Sherlock: *he tugs at impey* Arsé-kun: Impey: But, but, what do I do with….? *he means fran* Sheepy: Sherlock: *he tilts his head, as though he’s thinking* Sheepy: Sherlock: I can drag him along!! Arsé-kun: Watson: Please don’t drag. Sheepy: Sherlock: I’m no horse! I can’t carry him on my back. Sheepy: Izzy: Psh.. if I have to. Sheepy: Izzy: *she takes Fran from Impey* Arsé-kun: Impey: *he wipes his eyes and stares at Sherlock in amazement* S-so.. Y-you’re the werewolf….? Sheepy: Sherlock: No! Werewolfs are brutes! Sheepy: Sherlock: They bite people and hurt people! Sheepy: Sherlock: I’m a… … … the name’s verrrryyyyy complicated!! But I don’t bite and eat people! My job is to protect the young, the sick, and the injured! Arsé-kun: Impey: Oh! A Faoladh! I think that’s greek. Or irish. Sheepy: Sherlock: Yes!! Sheepy: Sherlock: That’s me!! Sheepy: Sherlock: I’m verrrryyyy eager to help! Sheepy: Sherlock: *he sniffs at the card once again and starts following a scent trail* Arsé-kun: Impey: *he runs after Sherlock* Sheepy: Izzy: *she follows them. Sheepy stays close to Lupin* Arsé-kun: Lupin: *He walks behind them, wary* Sheepy: Sheepy: Why do you think they did that? Arsé-kun: Lupin: I don’t know. Sheepy: Sheepy: Maybe they wanna sell it. Sheepy: Sheepy: Is that possible? Sheepy: Sherlock: We’re getting closer!!! Sheepy: Sherlock: I wonder who it is! Sheepy: Sherlock: *he slows down some to let them catch up* Sheepy: Sherlock: Look, look! Sheepy: Sherlock: There!! That’s someone! *tailwag* ​Welcome!! Arsé-kun: *There most certainly is. Who, you can’t tell, due to wearing a hood. They’re seated on the ground, holding a blue flame in their hands. They seem to be concentrating on it.* Sheepy: Sherlock: *he goes over to investigate. do you like dog snout in your face? no? too bad* Sheepy: Izzy: Ah, that thing in their hand is… Arsé-kun: *That definitely gets their attention, and they scoot backwards in terror.* Sheepy: Sherlock: IM SHERLOCK!! Hey hey hey hey! Welcome!! Arsé-kun: ??: W-w-were….. T-take it back, take it! J-just stay away from me! *Sherlock obtained the soul! dadada daaaaaaaaa* Sheepy: Sherlock: *you know that weird thing dogs do where they’re feeling really playful so they stick their butf in the air and they shake it? he’s doing that.* You look fun!! What’s that? Sheepy: Sherlock: Oh! I got the thing! I got the glowy thing! Sheepy: Izzy: *she goes and retrieves the soul from Sherlock, giving the hooded figure a good look* Sheepy: Izzy: Did Thanatos give you this order? *she sounds dead serious* I didn’t. Sheepy: Sheepy: Lupin, who’s that? Sheepy: Sherlock: They look nice!!! Sheepy: Sheepy: They took Fran’s soul. Sheepy: Sherlock: Let’s be friends!! Sheepy: Sherlock: I’m not a werewolf so it’s okay! Sheepy: Sherlock: I don’t bite people! Sheepy: Sherlock: I’m something that’s veeeeerrrry hard to pronounce for me! Arsé-kun: ??: …… *they look from Sherlock, to Izzy* No. You know I want knowledge. Sheepy: Izzy: Don’t run off with it when I’m right there. Arsé-kun: ??: Didn’t know you were present, Ma'am. I was going to return it. Sheepy: Izzy: You realize that if it’s not given back fast enough, they’ll die, right? Arsé-kun: ??: Of course I know that! Sheepy: Izzy: Then don’t make that mistake. Sheepy: Sherlock: Did I do well?? Sheepy: Izzy: *she returns Fran’s soul to him [Fran]* Sheepy: Fran:……*he slowly opens his eyes* …….huh? Arsé-kun: Impey: Victor! Are you okay?! Sheepy: Fran: Impey…? What happened? I feel really tired, but other than that, I’m okay… Arsé-kun: Impey: Hold on, I need to make sure you’re you! *he kisses Fran on the mouth* All right, we’re good! Sheepy: Fran: *his face goes bright red* Sheepy: Izzy: *she passes Fran over to Impey* Sheepy: Izzy: There’s a few people you can’t do that too. They’re off limits. Arsé-kun: Impey: *he hugs Fran and glares at the Dude* Arsé-kun: ??: N-noted, ma'am. Sheepy: Fran: *he seems pretty happy to be hugged* Sheepy: Sherlock: Oh! He’s back! YOU’RE BACK!! Sheepy: Fran: *he clings to Impey. nopenopenope* Sheepy: Sherlock: *whimper* Lupin, why is everyone scared of me? Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he shrugs* Sheepy: Sherlock: I don’t bite people. Sheepy: Sherlock: You’re not scared of me, right? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Scared, no. Wary, yes. Sheepy: Sherlock: Huh? Why? Sheepy: Sherlock: I’d never hurt you! *he is a sad pup* Arsé-kun: Lupin: Because I have never dealt w-with a were before… N-nothing against you, though..! Sheepy: Sherlock: But I’m not a werewolf!! Arsé-kun: Lupin: Lycanthrope, then. Sheepy: Sherlock: *sad dog noise* Sheepy: Sheepy: What does he learn from taking souls? Arsé-kun: ??: Whatever I want from them. Nothing personal, though. Arsé-kun: Impey: *he puts Fran down. Now that he isn’t worried about Fran, he approaches Sherlock* Sheepy: Sherlock: *friend?? FRIEND!!* Arsé-kun: Impey: Can I… Can I pet you?? Sheepy: Sherlock: *he gets excited. that’s probably a yes* Arsé-kun: Impey: *he slowly puts his hand on Sherlock’s head* Sheepy: Sherlock: *good. good!* Arsé-kun: *And then Impey just ends up semi-aggressively petting Sherlock. Who’s a good boy? Who is it? Is it you?* Sheepy: Sherlock: *IT’S ME!!!* Arsé-kun: Impey: *IT’S YOU!!* Sheepy: Sherlock: *WOAH!!! ME!!!* Sheepy: Sheepy: Why did you steal Fran’s soul? Arsé-kun: ??: I answered that already. Sheepy: Sheepy: But… what’s so interesting about his knowledge? Sheepy: Izzy: Hmmm… actually. I’ve got a question for you. Arsé-kun: ??: Yes? Sheepy: Izzy: You’re smart. Do you know of any wish granters who have, y'know… granted wishes recently? Arsé-kun: ??: Huh? N-no, ma'am. Why? Sheepy: Izzy: He says he was cheated, though. Arsé-kun: ??: *he seems thoughtful* …. No idea. Sheepy: Izzy: That’s too bad. Sheepy: Izzy: If you hear anything about wish granters cheating their customers, though, can you tell me? Arsé-kun: ??: Of course, ma'am. Sheepy: Izzy: Thank you~! Sheepy: Izzy: I’m glad it was you, though. Sheepy: Izzy: I was ticked, because I thought someone stole his soul and because I rule over violent death, it’s technically mine. Sheepy: Fran: That’s very, um, concerning. Arsé-kun: Lupin: Y-yeah. Sheepy: Izzy: Is it? Sheepy: Izzy: Anyyyyway, because it’s mine, I didn’t want anyone to touch it. Arsé-kun: Lupin: That says a lot about the future. Listed under things I didn’t want to know. Sheepy: Sheepy: But don’t you feel at all bad? Arsé-kun: ??: I was going to return it. I don’t see the issue. Sheepy: Izzy: Nope! When you’re in the biz long enough, you stop feeling bad for those you know you’re going to claim the souls of. Sheepy: Sheepy: I wasn’t asking you, Mr. No Name. You’re okay. Arsé-kun: ??: I have a name. Sheepy: Izzy: *she pats Sheepy on the head* If you follow my example, you’ll go from animals to humans in no time! Sheepy: Sheepy: You have a name? Sheepy: Izzy: Completely ignored…! Sheepy: Sheepy: What’s your name? Arsé-kun: ??: Germain. Sheepy: Sheepy: Lupin calls me Sheepy so that’s my name now. Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh! Nice to meet you! Sheepy: Izzy:…But.. but… we lovingly chose out your name… well, actually, I tried to name you, but I was met with, “Izzy, Godzilla isn’t a good child’s name! Nor is Terminator!” Sheepy: Izzy: Why does everyone hate my ideas? Sheepy: Fran: Um… Watson… do you think that getting your soul taken can cause health problems? Arsé-kun: Watson: I wouldn’t know. It was returned, so I don’t believe so? Sheepy: Fran: Oh, good… Arsé-kun: Impey: *he laughs* Godzilla?? Sheepy: Izzy: I tried to name him Godzilla. Sheepy: Izzy: It fit him perfectly! Arsé-kun: Impey: I can’t believe Sheepy is actually Godzilla. Sheepy: Izzy: But instead he got an incredibly lazy name. Arsé-kun: Lupin: I think you should tell him what it is. Sheepy: Sheepy: Lupin, what’s a Godzilla? Sheepy: Izzy: His name’s Aries, because that’s the star sign he was born under. Sheepy: Izzy: Lazy, right?! Sheepy: Sheepy: I like Sheepy more. Arsé-kun: Lupin: That’s fine. Sheepy: Sheepy: So I can just stick with that name? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Oui. Sheepy: Sheepy: Great! Also, um… Sheepy: Sheepy: I know we’ve figured out who I am, but… I wanna stay with you still. I feel like if I stay with you, we can find the guy who made me this way. Sheepy: Izzy: I’ve been totally rejected… ouch.. Arsé-kun: Lupin: Eh??? Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh, um, I guess you’re not okay with that. Arsé-kun: Lupin: Non, non, I’m okay with it! I just… But… Why? Sheepy: Sheepy: I feel safer around you. Arsé-kun: Lupin: ………… *he looks slightly vexed* That’s… Fine, then Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh, that’s great! Sheepy: Sheepy: I’ll do my best to be useful to you! Arsé-kun: Lupin: And the first order of business is grocery shopping. Tomorrow. Sheepy: Sheepy: OK!! Arsé-kun: *Germain apologizes to Fran in the background, explaining that asking for souls generally does not work. Fran accepts multiple times. It is an experience* Sheepy: Sherlock: Germain doesn’t seem bad!! Sheepy: Sherlock: Oh, oh! If people are scared of me because I look like a big dog, would this help? Sheepy: Sherlock: *he stands up on his hind legs* Arsé-kun: Impey: *he looks up at Sherlock* *woooooooow* Sheepy: Sherlock: I just look like a very tall man in a mascot suit, right? So no one should be scared of me! Arsé-kun: *Germain appears to be the contrary.* Sheepy: Sherlock: ….? Sheepy: Sherlock: Is this worse…? Sheepy: Sherlock: But… but I don’t want to be scary… Sheepy: Sherlock: Wilson, how do I not be scary? Arsé-kun: Watson: *he shrugs* Sheepy: Sherlock: Hmm.. Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he stifles a yawn* Arsé-kun: Impey: Oh, right. *he goes over to Sheepy* Lupe told me already. Here. *he passes some energy on* Sheepy: Sheepy: Huh…? Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh… thank you…! Sheepy: Sheepy: But… I thought you weren’t supposed to do that because it doesn’t end well for either party. Sheepy: Sherlock: *he gets back on all four again* Sheepy: Sherlock: Wilfred! Should we go home? Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh, um… Lupin, are you tired? Sheepy: Sherlock: Home has Wag!! And Iris!! And Hudson!!! I miss them verrrrryyyyy much! I haven’t seen them in forever! Sheepy: Tom: look impey its a werewolf Sheepy: Tom: but thats not the werewolf i saw Sheepy: Tom: i havent seen this werewolf before Sheepy: Tom: oh hi there edgy man i am tom Sheepy: Tom: im a ghost Sheepy: Tom: i do ghost things Sheepy: Tom: like this *he knocks watson’s hat off if he is wearing one* Arsé-kun: Impey: It’s okay once in a while! I’ve never done it for ya, have I? Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he nods once Impey’s done speaking* Yes. Oui. Arsé-kun: Watson: *he picks his hat up* Ah, so you’re Tom? Nice to meet you. Sheepy: Tom: woah Sheepy: Tom: youre bowler hat man Sheepy: Tom: the werewolf i saw was smaller Sheepy: Tom: but. yes yes yes i am tom Sheepy: Tom: i am dead it is nice to meet you Sheepy: Tom: did you know Sheepy: Tom: catbirds are good at copying other birds Sheepy: Tom: but never accomplish anything themselves Arsé-kun: Tom: kind of like me Sheepy: Tom: and are absolute monsters who will go after you just because you’re alive Sheepy: Tom: what did i miss Arsé-kun: Lupin: A lot. Sheepy: Tom: but im important Sheepy: Sheepy: Should we head back if you’re tired? Arsé-kun: Lupin: … I’d like to. Sheepy: Sheepy: OK! I want to! Arsé-kun: *so they go back* Sheepy: Sheepy: *he, too, appears a bit tired. sheepy. what did you even accomplish today? not much that’s what* Arsé-kun: *you dont have to physically do much to be tired* Arsé-kun: *anyway, once they get back to the apartment, lupin immediately collapses onto the sofa. better find somewhere else to sleep, sheepy* Sheepy: Sheepy: *he thinks for a moment, goes to get a blanket, and puts it on Lupin* Arsé-kun: *How kind of you* Sheepy: Sheepy: *he goes to bed.* Sheepy: *and by bed, I mean one of the chairs* Arsé-kun: *sheepy no* Sheepy: *sheepy does as sheepy wants* Arsé-kun: *and that’s where Sheepy wakes up the following morning.* Sheepy: Sheepy: *he starts to get up. ow. stiff. better not try curling up in a chair again. ow, ow, ow.* Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he’s already up, and reading a book. He looks up* Good morning. Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh…! Good morning! Sheepy: Sheepy: What time is it? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Almost noon. Sheepy: Sheepy: ..Oh. Sheepy: Sheepy: Oops. Arsé-kun: Lupin: And there was a bed you could have used. Sheepy: Sheepy: There was? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Oui. Sheepy: Sheepy: …where? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Down the hall, of course. Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh… Sheepy: Sheepy: I hope you weren’t too cold last night! I gave you a blanket but I don’t know if it helped at all… Arsé-kun: Lupin: It did, merci. Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh, good! Arsé-kun: Lupin: Impey and Fran have left, by the by. Sheepy: Sheepy: Huh? They did? *he looks a bit sad* Why? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Fran has work. Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh, right… Arsé-kun: Lupin: We’ve got to go grocery shopping, anyway. Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh, yeah! I forgot! Sheepy: Sheepy: When should we go? Arsé-kun: Lupin: When you are ready, I suppose. Sheepy: Sheepy: OK! I’ll go get ready!! Arsé-kun: *They go out when Sheepy is ready. What a big store. wowee* Sheepy: Sheepy: *he sticks real close to Lupin. he doesn’t want to get lost in ＳＴＯＲＥ　ＨＥＣＫ* Arsé-kun: *Sheepy has a good time. I guess. Until it comes to carrying groceries back. haha, get rekt nerd* Sheepy: Sheepy: *this is heavy. he is suffering* Arsé-kun: *Lupin is not suffering as much.* Sheepy: Sheepy: *hide the fact you’re having trouble. hide the fact you’re having trouble.* Arsé-kun: Lupin: Do you need help? Sheepy: Sheepy: No, I’m fine! Sheepy: Sheepy: *remain strong.* Arsé-kun: Lupin: D'accord. Sheepy: Sheepy: *oh, good, he didn’t ask further.* Arsé-kun: Lupin: Bonne chance. *he goes on ahead* Sheepy: Sheepy: *he lags behind some* Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he notices, and waits for Sheepy to catch up* Sheepy: Sheepy: *he is thankful for this.* Arsé-kun: Lupin: Are you sure you don’t need help? Sheepy: Sheepy: I’m sure!! After all, I said I’d carry this! So it’s my job now! Arsé-kun: Lupin: Vouz avez plein de merde. I don’t believe you, but fine. Sheepy: Sheepy: I don’t want to feel useless, so I have to do something. Arsé-kun: Lupin: W-well, all right. Sheepy: Sheepy: So, don’t worry! I’ll manage! Arsé-kun: Lupin: If you say so. Arsé-kun: *they survive and make it back to the apartment. the elevator is not an asshole* Sheepy: Sheepy: *HE’S SO HAPPY TO FINALLY PUT IT DOWN* Arsé-kun: *And Lupin starts putting it all away* Sheepy: Sheepy: Is there some way I can help? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Oui. Arsé-kun: *and then they get everything away* Sheepy: Sheepy: I hope I was of assistance! Arsé-kun: Lupin: You were. Arsé-kun: *Meanwhile, at the house of sherlock and pals* Sheepy: Sherlock: Hey, Watson. Don’t go out tonight. Sheepy: Sherlock: *he sounds dead serious* Arsé-kun: Watson: !! *he looks up from his writing* I’m not sure what I should be more concerned about: Your tone, the warning, or that you got my name right. Sheepy: Sherlock: There’s a werewolf. He’s okay during the day, but… he’s very violent at night. Sheepy: Sherlock: I keep watch over him, but I’m sure he wouldn’t hesitate to kill you. Sheepy: Sherlock: So please be careful. Don’t go out no matter what. Arsé-kun: Watson: *he nods* I understand. What I don’t understand is how you were able to keep all this from me. Sheepy: Sherlock: Hard work and determination! Arsé-kun: Watson: *he laughs* I can respect that. Sheepy: Sherlock:…Because. Sheepy: Sherlock: I thought if you found out… Sheepy: Sherlock: You’d be scared of me and eventually hate me like everyone else. Arsé-kun: Watson: Nonsense. You’re already my friend. Sheepy: Sherlock: I’m really glad!! Arsé-kun: Watson: … If you’re a … I forgot what you said you were, is this other wolf something different? Sheepy: Sherlock: Mhm. They’re your run of the mill werewolf. Brutish, violent, cruel. No control over their actions. Every full moon they change and begin their hunt. Sheepy: Sherlock: I don’t know if they’re hungry or just enjoy the bloodshed, but… Sheepy: Sherlock: It’s disgusting. Sheepy: Sherlock: I feel bad for those who have been cursed with it… Arsé-kun: Watson: That sounds terrible. Sheepy: Sherlock: It’s my job to protect people, but… Sheepy: Sherlock: He’s much more powerful than me. Arsé-kun: Watson: Isn’t there any way to keep him in check? Sheepy: Sherlock: I don’t know. Arsé-kun: Watson: If you’d like, I can do some research. Sheepy: Sherlock: As long as you aren’t in danger. Arsé-kun: Watson: Of course. Arsé-kun: *There’s whining and scratching from the front door. Get the door.* Sheepy: Sherlock: *he opens the door* Arsé-kun: *It’s a dog! They look happy when they see Sherlock. Did I say dog? I meant a wolfish dog. Wolfdog. Shut up* Sheepy: Sherlock: Oh, Issachar! Hi! I was just about to head out! Arsé-kun: Issachar: *he barks and wags his tail.* Sheepy: Sherlock: Did you want to come with me? Arsé-kun: Issachar: *Yip!* Sheepy: Sherlock: OK! Let’s go! I’ll be back before you wake up, Wilson! Arsé-kun: *so Issachar and Sherlock go out!* Arsé-kun: *they then arrive at a small house. it’s a few miles away, but the walk isn’t hard.* Sheepy: Sherlock: *he basically kicks the door in* Vaaaan, we’re here! … Van? Sheepy: Sherlock: Maybe he’s sleeping. Sheepy: Sherlock: *he hunts for Van and finds him!! sleeping.* Sheepy: Sherlock:…. …. *he prods at Van* Vaaaan, wake up, we’re here. Sheepy: Sherlock: It’s me! Sherlock! Sheepy: Sherlock: *as soon as there’s any sign that Van is waking up, he gives him a big hug* Sheepy: Sherlock: I’m verrrrryyyyy happy to see you! Sheepy: Sherlock: Issachar and I are here to make sure nothing bad happens tonight! Arsé-kun: Van: …. *he groans and reaches for his glasses* wh'time is it…? Sheepy: Sherlock: 2:30! Arsé-kun: Van: You’re here this early…? Sheepy: Sherlock: Yeah! Arsé-kun: Van: Ugh. Sheepy: Sherlock: What’s wrong? Arsé-kun: Van: ’m not ready for this month. Sheepy: Sherlock: If there was some way I could fix it, I would. Arsé-kun: Van: Yeah, I know. Move so I can get up. Sheepy: Sherlock: *he moves* Sheepy: Sherlock: Don’t worry! I’ll make sure nothing bad happens! Sheepy: Sherlock: Because that’s my job! And we’re friends! Sheepy: Sherlock: So I should protect you! Sheepy: Sherlock: I didn’t come too early, right? Arsé-kun: Van: I guess not. Sheepy: Sherlock: Oh, good! Sheepy: Sherlock: My friend may look into it. Arsé-kun: Van: That would be great. Sheepy: Sherlock: Yeah! Sheepy: Sherlock: He’s smart! Arsé-kun: Van: ….. *he’s quiet for a moment, then bangs on the wall* Get out of the fridge, mutt! I hear you doing that! Sheepy: Sherlock: ? Arsé-kun: Issachar: *he strolls in with meat hanging out of his mouth. issa no* Sheepy: Sherlock: Issachar, that’s his food. Arsé-kun: Issachar: *he whines* Sheepy: Sherlock: Don’t do that again. Arsé-kun: Issachar: *he gulps it down and whines again* Sheepy: Sherlock: It’s not nice. . You aren’t the one who bought it. Arsé-kun: Issachar: ….. I’ll pay for it! Sheepy: Sherlock: You will? Arsé-kun: Issachar: Well, yeah. Sheepy: Sherlock: OK, good. Arsé-kun: Issachar: *he sits down* Sorry, Van! I couldn’t help it. Arsé-kun: Van: Yes, you could. And I’m not taking you for a walk, either. Sheepy: Sherlock: I’d think you’d have a bit more self control than that… Arsé-kun: Issachar: I don’t need that anyway! The walk here was enough! Sheepy: Sherlock: Oh, good. Arsé-kun: Issachar: *he lies down on the floor and huffs* Sheepy: Sherlock: Oh, um, how have you been, Van? Arsé-kun: Van: Fine. Sheepy: Sherlock: That’s good! Sheepy: Sherlock: Everything has been great recently! Arsé-kun: Van: that’s good. Sheepy: Sherlock: Is there anything I can do to help before, uh… Arsé-kun: Van: … Do we not do the same thing every month? Sheepy: Sherlock: I guess that’s true.. Arsé-kun: *and then we skip to that night bc fuck* Sheepy: *Sherlock would think about how uncomfortable his transformation just was, except he’s more concerned about Van* Sheepy: Sherlock: *he checks on Van* Arsé-kun: *If by “Van”, you mean that shuddering furball, he’s there and alive. And still changing. Lovely sounds include bones BREAKING TO REARRANGE. IT’S SO LOVELY* Sheepy: Sherlock: *he goes over to see if he can comfort the shuddering furball* Sheepy: Sherlock: *he wonders why, exactly, he doesn’t have such a painful transformation like van’s* Arsé-kun: *maybe bc sherlock is a werewoof.* Sheepy: Sherlock: *he sits by Van* Arsé-kun: *BEING HELSING IS SUFFERING* Sheepy: Sherlock: *don’t worry I’m here for you buddy* Arsé-kun: Van: ……… *he huffs and uncurls. why he so tol.* Sheepy: Sherlock: *HELLOOOO FRIENDO* Arsé-kun: Van: *he pushes Sherlock to the side so he can get out of the room. He doesn’t push Sherlock hard, though.* Sheepy: Sherlock: *he follows close behind Van, tail wagging as he goes* Arsé-kun: Issachar: *he yips and moves out of Van’s way* Sheepy: Sherlock: Where are we going tonight?? Arsé-kun: Issachar: No idea! Sheepy: Sherlock: I guess it’s really up to him. Arsé-kun: *Van is busy dumping food into his face. Packaging and all. Van, no* Sheepy: Sherlock: *he is slightly concerned about the packaging part* Arsé-kun: *And Van finished before lumbering outside. He’s go* Sheepy: Sherlock: *he follows Van* Arsé-kun: *Van makes his way up a hill.* Sheepy: Sherlock: *he follows Van up the hill* Sheepy: Sherlock: What’s up at this hill that’s so exciting? Sheepy: Sherlock: *he moves to Van’s side and looks around* Arsé-kun: Van: *he plops down and makes a noise somewhere between a whine and a growl. Doesn’t seem too happy* Sheepy: Sherlock: *he is confused. why is he unhappy.* Arsé-kun: Issachar: *he trots over with a branch in his mouth* rets ro romrmphin! Sheepy: Sherlock: Would he appreciate you throwing a branch around??? Arsé-kun: Issachar: ri rurro. Sheepy: Sherlock: *he pokes at Van some* Arsé-kun: Van: *he glares* Sheepy: Sherlock: *he goes over to join Issachar* Sheepy: Sherlock: What’re we gonna use this stick for?? Arsé-kun: Issachar: Whatever we want! Sheepy: Sherlock: Sounds good to me! Arsé-kun: *then they play with the branch. it’s great. that poor tree gets rekt because Van joined in. rip tree* Sheepy: *rest in pepperoni tree* Sheepy: Sherlock: *he’s somewhat relieved that Van has joined in* Arsé-kun: *and that most of van’s aggression is on the tree, and not dogs* Sheepy: *Sherlock is thankful for that* Arsé-kun: *So is Issachar* Arsé-kun: *the tree isnt.* Sheepy: *but the tree is not as important as the dogs* Arsé-kun: *of course* Sheepy: *who knows, the tree may even be the person who cheated sheepy* Arsé-kun: *if they were, they’re dead now* Arsé-kun: *anyway, the night passes without incident* Sheepy: *it was amazing* Arsé-kun: *ye* Sheepy: Sherlock: *he heads home.* Sheepy: Sherlock: *he makes sure not to wake Watson up* Arsé-kun: *good job* Sheepy: *HE DONE IT!!* Sheepy: *you know what it’s time for? Izzy to kick the door of arsene’s apartment down* Arsé-kun: Lupin: *and he jumps, like usual* Sheepy: Izzy: Hey-o! Arsé-kun: Lupin: Mademoiselle, with all due respect… Please don’t kick the door. Sheepy: Izzy: But that’s my main way of entry! Sheepy: Izzy: How’s everything going??? Arsé-kun: Lupin: F-fine..? Sheepy: Izzy: Great! I’ve got a request for you. Arsé-kun: Lupin: Is it work? Sheepy: Izzy: Sort of? Arsé-kun: Lupin: And I’m not being paid overtime, am I? Sheepy: Sheepy: I thought you don’t get paid. Arsé-kun: Lupin: …… The point stands. Sheepy: Izzy: I need you to capture this guy for me. I need info from him. Sheepy: Izzy: I’d do it myself, but, y'know. Arsé-kun: Lupin: All I heard was “Lupin, please jump off a roof.” *he sighs* I’m going to need more information than that. Sheepy: Izzy: I can throw you off one if you want! Arsé-kun: Lupin: P-please have mercy. Sheepy: Izzy: Here, I have a picture of them. Arsé-kun: *Lupin takes the picture* Sheepy: Izzy: I want them alive. Arsé-kun: Lupin: …… I’ll see what I can do. Sheepy: Izzy: Good, good! Arsé-kun: Lupin: …. But, why? Doesn’t he work for you? Sheepy: Izzy: You think he listens to me? Arsé-kun: Lupin: …… oui? Sheepy: Izanami: That’s where you’re wrong. Arsé-kun: Lupin: I see. Sheepy: Izanami: He goes missing suddenly, he never listens to our orders, and I’m pretty sure he’s got something up his sleeve. Arsé-kun: Lupin: …. Noted. Where am I to bring him? Sheepy: Izanami: Here’s the address. *she gives a slip of paper to Lupin* Boy, am I lucky to have you. Sheepy: Izanami: You listen more and you’re more fun than most of the reapers working under me. Arsé-kun: Lupin: Th-thank you? Sheepy: Izanami: No, really, I mean it! Sheepy: Sheepy: *he hasn’t been paying much attention to this* Sheepy: Izzy: Oh yeah. Thanks for being a babysitter. Arsé-kun: Lupin: Je vous en prie. Sheepy: Izzy: Now! I should probably leave you to whatever you were doing. Arsé-kun: Lupin: ….. I was going to go out later, too Sheepy: Izzy: Huh? Really? Sheepy: Izzy: Go ahead and do that. It’s no rush. Arsé-kun: Lupin: …. You can guess what I mean bu “go out”. Either way, merci. Sheepy: Izzy: That I can! Sheepy: Izzy: See you later! *she go* Arsé-kun: Lupin: Sheepy? I’m going to get dressed, and I’m going out for a few hours. Sheepy: Sheepy: Okay. I’ll stay here. Sheepy: Sheepy: Is there anything you want me to do while you’re gone? Sheepy: Sheepy: I’m sure there’s something I can do. Arsé-kun: Lupin: Of course. Feed yourself. Maybe find fresh clothes to put on. Sheepy: Sheepy: OK! Arsé-kun: *So Lupin goes out!* Sheepy: Sheepy: *he does as Lupin asked, and then decides to clean. gotta stay busy.* Arsé-kun: *Lupin is out far longer than he probably intended. It’s getting dark* Sheepy: Sheepy: *he’s starting to get a bit worried…* Arsé-kun: *Today’s options include: Ask Tom to look, look out the window, look off the roof, go downstairs and look. Or do nothing* Sheepy: Sheepy: *Ask Tom to look *Look out window *Look off the roof >​Go downstairs and look Arsé-kun: *Sheepy goes downstairs. Lupin is not there.* Sheepy: Sheepy: *Ask Tom to look >​Look out window *Look off the roof Arsé-kun: *Sheepy doesn’t see shit! There is faint yelling in the distance, though. This is followed by Lupin flying into view, dragging Germain along. Werewoof Sherlock is with them. Not far behind them is a very large, angry, outraging bara furball.* Sheepy: Sheepy: Huh. That looks like a predicament. Arsé-kun: *team WE’RE GONN CRY bursts through the doors, which inexplicably catch on fire. Fire stops the angered furball* Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh, hi. Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he lets go of Germain and lands* Salut. Let’s all agree now to not ever go through that again. Sheepy: Sherlock: *he just. flops over. he’s done. he just wants a nap. save him from this misery.* Arsé-kun: *Germain is sobbing a little.* Sheepy: Sheepy: Why was that furry man chasing you? Arsé-kun: Lupin: Full moon. Were. *he sounds like he’s catching his breath* Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh.. Arsé-kun: *the doors stop being on fire.* Sheepy: Sheepy: Why was the door on fire? Arsé-kun: Lupin: I panicked a little. Sheepy: Sheepy: I don’t think I’ve ever been that panicked in my life… Arsé-kun: Lupin: …. Either way, if he comes back, we’re not safe. Sheepy: Sheepy: What do we do if he comes back? Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he shakes his head* I don’t know. Sheepy: Sheepy: Maybe we should call your boss and ask her to help… Arsé-kun: Lupin: … It’s worth a shot. Arsé-kun: *Lupin calls Izzy* Sheepy: Izzy: Helloooo, how may I transfer your call? Arsé-kun: Lupin: To whatever department manages us not being murdered by an angry were. Sheepy: Izzy: Oh, you came to the right place! One moment. I’ll be over. Arsé-kun: Lupin: Please and thanks, I lit the doors earlier. Sheepy: *Izzy hangs up. About ten minutes later, she arrives* Sheepy: Izzy: The star of the show is here! Arsé-kun: *and so is van, again.* Sheepy: Izzy: Huh, you didn’t mean the sleeping carpet on your floor. Arsé-kun: Lupin: Non. Sheepy: Izzy: Oh, well. Hey, Mr. dog, I really would recommend going somewhere else. Sheepy: Izzy: You don’t wanna know how a reaper’s scythe feels. Arsé-kun: *Izzy is snarled at. Van doesn’t seem to care for the words you are speaking* Sheepy: Izzy: Fine, I warned you. Sheepy: Izzy: *she summons her scythe* Arsé-kun: Van: *he growls and raises his haunches. or whatever. i dont furry anatomy* Sheepy: Izzy: *she gets ready to fight* Arsé-kun: *Van leaps at her! roaaaaaaar* Sheepy: *Izzy tries to protect herself using her scythe* Arsé-kun: *and that just serves to make the angry furball angrier* Sheepy: Izzy: Alright, you asked for it! Sheepy: Izzy: *she goes for him with her scythe* Arsé-kun: *Today, we learn that limbs are meant to stay on. It’ll probably be where it belongs in a few hours.* Sheepy: Izzy: Oh, huh. That’s not what I intended to do. Arsé-kun: *and then van grabs his arm off the floor at whacks izzy with it. effective* Sheepy: Izzy: Eww. You’re getting werewolf blood all over me. Sheepy: Izzy: Aren’t you at all concerned about the fact that I just cut off your arm? Sheepy: Izzy: You bloodied up my scythe, too! Sheepy: Izzy: I just cleaned it! Arsé-kun: Van: *He growls, baring his teeth and preparing to lunge at her again* Sheepy: Izzy: If you do that, I’ll cut the other off, too! Arsé-kun: Van: *he’s still growling* Sheepy: Izzy: Sit. Sheepy: *Sherlock.. is napping through this. Good job buddy. You’re contributing so much.* Arsé-kun: *germain’s still crying.* Sheepy: Sheepy: *he’s gone over to try to help comfort Germain* Arsé-kun: Van: *he does not sit. he snaps in izzy’s general direction* Sheepy: Izzy: That’s not sitting. Sheepy: Izzy: Unless you act nicer and stop trying to kill people, I’m gonna treat you like a dog. Sheepy: Izzy: Ordering you around and talking to you like you’re a baby. Arsé-kun: Van: *he’s STILL growling. izzy, that’s not working* Sheepy: Izzy: Shush. Arsé-kun: Van: *a single bark is thrown into the growl 3x combo* Sheepy: Izzy: Barking’s okay. No growling. Sheepy: Izzy: Put your arm back down and chill. Arsé-kun: Van: *he drops to all fours (threes. shut up) and stares. look how HAPPY he is. SO MUCH. YES.* Sheepy: Izzy: Do you want me to.. Sheepy: Izzy: Give you a ​hand? Arsé-kun: Van: *he snaps at her again* Sheepy: Izzy: No, really. Do you want me to help you with your arm? Arsé-kun: Van: …… *he snorts and sits down.* Sheepy: Izzy: *she goes over and starts helping him, y'know, put his arm back on. because that works.* Sheepy: Sheepy: How are you feeling?? Arsé-kun: Germain: Terrified, disgusted, and uncomfortable, but fortunately alive. Sheepy: Sheepy: That last one’s always good. Arsé-kun: Germain: Yes, yes, of course. Sheepy: Sheepy: I think the dog’s done for now, and the other one’s sleeping. Arsé-kun: Germain: Yes, yes, I do see this, but I swore I had seen a third. Arsé-kun: Issachar: *woof!* Dog?? Where?? Sheepy: Sheepy: There’s a dog who lost his arm just now and another dog right there. And there’s a third dog, apparently. Are you the third dog? Arsé-kun: Issachar: That’s right, kid, I’m a dog! Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh. Well, this guy saw you. That’s what he was saying. Arsé-kun: Issachar: *he tilts his head* Hello, sailor! I’m the well behaved dog. Sheepy: Sheepy: But the one that’s sleeping right now seemed well behaved the last time I saw him. Arsé-kun: Issachar: I was kidding! Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh. Arsé-kun: Issachar: And for the record, I’m no were, either. Sheepy: Sheepy: You aren’t? Arsé-kun: Issachar: Nope! *one zorua-esque backflip later, he hu mun. with clothes. not sure how that works. dont ask. dont tell* Ta-daa! Sheepy: Sheepy: Wow. Arsé-kun: Issachar: *and he sits down. plop.* Really, the only one of us that is a real were is Van. Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh. Is that why he attacked them? Arsé-kun: Issachar: Yeah. *he frowns* He always gets like this. Me n’ Sherlock can handle him the day before and after the Full, but day of? Not at all. Sheepy: Sheepy: Will his arm grow back? Arsé-kun: Issachar: … Uh. No? Sheepy: Sheepy: She cut his arm off. Arsé-kun: Issachar: hUh?? *he looks back at Van again* Sure doesn’t look like it from here! Sheepy: Sheepy: She did. Sheepy: Sheepy: We all saw it. Sheepy: Sheepy: And then he picked it up and hit her with it. Arsé-kun: Issachar: … Sounds like something he’d do. I’ll believe it. Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh, good. Sheepy: Sheepy: Maybe she fixed his arm, if you don’t see that it was cut off. Arsé-kun: Issachar: Maybe! Sheepy: Sheepy: Are you feeling better? Arsé-kun: Germain: *he nods* Y-yes, I think I’ve calmed down. Sheepy: Sheepy: I’m glad! Sheepy: Izzy: That’s great! Now, quite unfortunately for you, I’ve got business with you, and I guess this place is as suited as any. Arsé-kun: Germain: Ahh?? L-like what, ma'am? Sheepy: Izzy: I think you know. Arsé-kun: Germain: … Oh. Sheepy: Izzy: Don’t think you’re getting out of it. I want to know everything. Arsé-kun: Germain: … I suppose I’m trapped. Where shall I begin, ma'am? Sheepy: Izzy: Wherever you want. I don’t care, as long as I know everything by the end of it. Arsé-kun: Germain: “Everything” is a bit of a broad spectrum.. Sheepy: Izzy: What you’re doing. Why you’re doing it. What your aim is. Arsé-kun: Germain: Learning as much as I can. Because I ’d like to know a wide range of topics. For curiosities sake and also something else. Sheepy: Izzy: I don’t believe you. Arsé-kun: Germain: I did not lie. Arsé-kun: Germain: I just did not detail the end result. Sheepy: Izzy: Detail the end result. Arsé-kun: Germain: Not here. Sheepy: Izzy: Is it really so bad that you don’t want to discuss it here? Arsé-kun: Germain: Not bad. It’s just not a well received topic due to how others understand it. Sheepy: Izzy: Huh? Sheepy: Izzy: Sounds shady. Arsé-kun: Germain: *he shrugs* It’s like how the modern world think zombies are raised dead, when that isn’t what the originally were. It’s nothing bad. Sheepy: Izzy: Oookay. If you say so. Sheepy: Sheepy: How d'you do the thingy? Arsé-kun: Germain: …? Sheepy: Sheepy: The thingy where you read people’s souls or whatever. Arsé-kun: Germain: … I don’t know how to explain. It’s just something I’ve always done. *he slowly shakes his head* Sheepy: Sheepy: Are you reading their memories or something? Arsé-kun: Germain: I could if I wanted, but no. Sheepy: Sheepy:….Would it work on me if my memories got stolen?? Arsé-kun: Germain: *he blinks* I… I do not know. Are you asking what I believe you are? Sheepy: Sheepy: Uh-huh! Arsé-kun: Germain: ….. *he looks up at izzy* Sheepy: Izzy:….I don’t agree with it, but whatever. I can’t complain. Go ahead. Arsé-kun: Germain: I will be quick, I promise. Sheepy: Sheepy: I probably don’t know anything you care out, but… Sheepy: Sheepy: I hope it isn’t too inconvenient. Arsé-kun: Germain: I recommend you sit back against the wall. Sheepy: Sheepy:….? OK… *he does so* Sheepy: Sheepy: Why? Arsé-kun: Germain: So you do not fall, of course. *he turns, and lightly places his hand on Sheepy’s chest. His hand then goes INTO sheepy’s chest, and he pulls out a green soul. He quickly glances at Izzy again, and then turns his full attention to the soul* Sheepy: Izzy: *she watches him closely* Arsé-kun: *Other than breathing, he doesn’t seem to be doing much.* Sheepy: Izzy: *and Germain?* Arsé-kun: *thats who i meant you dope, but its basically the same, except germain is conscious.* Sheepy: Izzy: *she waits* Arsé-kun: Germain: *it’s hard to tell if he’s even conscious by this point, with how little he’s moving- oh, never mind, he blinked. the first in several minutes* Sheepy: Izzy: *creepy* Sheepy: *sheepy doesn’t mind because he’s unconscious* Arsé-kun: Germain: ……. *he blinks a few more times, and shakes his head. He puts the soul back and waits.* Sheepy: Sheepy: *he wakes up* Sheepy: Sheepy: Huh… .. oh, how’d it go…? Arsé-kun: Germain: Well. When you said “Stolen”, I’d thought they’d only be missing in your head.. Sheepy: Sheepy: What do you mean…? Arsé-kun: Germain: There’s barely a trace of your memories in your soul. Before we sound too negative, though, your knowledge remained. Sheepy: Sheepy: Really??? Arsé-kun: Germain: I didn’t go through much, as I did not intend to. I did get something, though. Sheepy: Sheepy: What’d you get?? Arsé-kun: Germain: You had a bit more knowledge of genies and fae than anyone your age would need. *he closes his eyes again and shrugs. he :). the default. it returns* Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh… Sheepy: Sheepy: So that means I probably asked one for something and they cheated me. Arsé-kun: Germain: If that is the case, it had to be the fae. Genies cannot cheat except certain situations. Sheepy: Sheepy: Oh…! Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he returns from wherever the fuck HE went. By which i mean he was lurking on the stairs for the last two minutes. Before that, dragging the changed-back van upstairs.* So that’s what it was? Sheepy: Sheepy: That’s what he said. Sheepy: Sherlock: *he, too, has changed back, except he’s still sleeping on the floor* Sheepy: Sheepy: But what does that mean for me? Sheepy: Izzy: Once I find that fairy I’ll throw a table at them! Sheepy: Sheepy: …. but how would that fix anything? Sheepy: Izzy: It wouldn’t, but it’d mqke me feel better! Sheepy: Izzy: Although, I gotta make sure it’s a whole table, because if it isn’t, it’ll give them…. a leg up. Sheepy: Sheepy:………….huh?​ Sheepy: Izzy: You know, like table legs? Maybe it’s missing table legs? Sheepy: Sheepy:………….ok. Sheepy: Izzy: Aww, shoot, they took your sense of humor, too. You would’ve laughed before. Sheepy: Sheepy: Was that a joke? OK… Sheepy: Sheepy: *in the most bored way possible* Ha. Ha. Ha. Sheepy: Izzy: You poor child…. Sheepy: Izzy: You poor, poor child… Arsé-kun: *Lets skip to the following afternoon, for convenience* Sheepy: Sheepy: *he is being himself aka clumsy aka he probably knocked something over bt accident and is now cleaning it up* Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he decides to help* Arsé-kun: *Elsewhere, Germain is hunched over multiple books, his wide-open eyes darting from book to book. Tightly gripped in his hand is a staff, an ugly thing with skulls hanging upon it. The foreign language written on the pages seems to make sense to Germain, and a faint smile crawls onto his face. Pleased with his findings, he gently closes the aged tomes, scattering dust throughout the air. He stands, closing his eyes and setting his staff on the table. His smile remaining, he extinguishes the lights and leaves the room, locking the door behind him.* Arsé-kun: *But anyway back to sheepy and lupin* Sheepy: Sheepy: Thank you! Sorry for knocking it over…..! Sheepy: Sheepy: I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going and tripped… Sheepy: Sheepy: But, d-don’t worry! I didn’t hurt myself! Sheepy: Sheepy: *a nervous grin has spread across his face, and despite his words, he seems intent on hiding his hand from view and the slight smell of blood is in the air…* Arsé-kun: Lupin: ….. Did you hurt yourself? Sheepy: Sheepy: Nope! Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he gives a side glance to Sheepy* Really? Sérieux? Sheepy: Sheepy: I didn’t! Arsé-kun: Lupin: So the scent of blood must be my imagination. Sheepy: Sheepy: *welp. he’s caught. better just show his hand off to Lupin* Arsé-kun: Lupin: *he sighs, and fetches bandages* Sheepy: Sheepy: Sorry!

[zeldafreak911]

A sleepless night

You open your eyes.. it takes a minute for your brain to register the ever present fatigue. Nothing new though, it’s been 10 years now. what’s the time? Later than it’s socially acceptable to rouse on a weekday at least. You pull your exhausted body into a sitting position. Ironic isn’t it? That after a night of sleeping you can still feel tired. You wonder about how that’s possible some days. But not yet,the grogginess hasn’t cleared. It won’t for another hour or two. They call it ‘brain fog’. Funny word that, a symptom of myalgic encephalomyelitis. Or CFS/ME if you don’t speak gibberish.

Anyways, sitting up now, you put on a jumper, roll a smoke, grab your favourite lighter and put them in your pocket. You find trackies and ugg boots. Warm things; they help.

You slowly shuffle out to the kitchen. Bee-lining for the kettle. The family knows well enough now that their efforts at communication won’t be successful until post-coffee.

You make the coffee, warm up your wheatbag if it’s a particularly cold morning and you drag your feet along the ground and out to ‘your spot’ in the workshop out the back.

If today is a bad day for anxiety you’ll be fighting off the urge to vomit right about now. For no reason at all. Literally just your brain deciding to glitch out on you. A psychologist told me once that it sounded like I was anxious as soon as I wake up. That’s nice brain... just be anxious to fucking exist then.

You pull out your tin, pack a cone and smoke until you aren’t gagging and fighting the urge to throw up like before. Some days there’s no fighting it... no stopping it either. If it’s a good day you smoke as many cones as it takes until your brain is sufficiently numb.

What am I trying to numb myself from you ask?

I couldn’t honestly tell you for sure. Some days I’m curious, some days I don’t want to know and others I convince myself I’m not numbing anything. I genuinely enjoy the stuff though so no dramas there on my end.

After that you light your cigarette and take a deep breath of the sweet deathstick. You know you shouldn’t enjoy them as much as you do.. but you’ll quit eventually.

You sit outside for half an hour or so. Alternating between the coffee, cigarette and cones if you need a top up before going inside again.

Your back is already starting to hurt. Between your shoulder blade and your spine there’s a stabbing pain and there is a dull ache in the small of your back. You drape the wheatbag over your shoulder to ease the pain. It’s mainly from stress but poor posture isn’t doing you any favours. You try to sit up straight but somehow you always end up with your shoulders slouched.

Eventually you go back inside, usually once you’ve finished the coffee.. or the smoke. One or the other.

Most mornings as bad as it is, it’s part of the morning brain reboot to go out for another smoke pretty damn soon after that first one. The rest of the day you aren’t as bad but for some reason need to have two smokes in the morning or else you’re left feeling unsatisfied. Almost like you have an itch you can’t scratch.

It’s pretty similar to the first, just less cones and you probably made another coffee to take outside. Always need to have a drink out there with you or else you’ll have a coughing fit and if it’s a gagging morning then game over, you’ll throw up. Sometimes you sit out by the glass table. That way you feel the sun warming you and the wind on your skin. You watch the family of birds that likes the nectarine tree. They’ve been coming to that tree every morning for the last few years.

If it’s the right time of year there will be seagulls squawking overhead. The sky is usually clear and bright blue in springtime and summer.

You walk over to the fishpond. Well tiptoe. If the fish hear you coming they will hide. You silently peer over the edge, trying to make sure they don’t see you straight away. You see two of your favourites, Philip and Shadow. Leaning further to see them. Your foot makes a noise and they scatter. Oh well nevermind.

Occasionally you can hear your neighbour singing. He’s blind, runs on his treadmill in the garage and sings along to whatever he’s listening to. He’s pretty tone deaf but it makes me smile anyways.. he’s got the enthusiasm.

You go inside and put your tin and lighter away. By this time you’ll usually be replying to a few messages. Most mornings you’ll go and play piano; it usually speeds up the reboot of your brain.

You play whatever songs take your fancy at the time. Usually a few easy pieces that you know well to warm up your fingers. After about 10 minutes you start playing some new songs you’ve been learning and any others you have a hankering to play. You’ll play anywhere between twenty minutes to two hours.

There’s nothing I’ve found quite as useful for my mental health as playing the piano. When I’m upset I channel the negative emotions into what I’m playing. When I had a big problem with self harm and I was trying to stop I would play piano anytime I had the urge to do something. Music literally saved me in more ways than one. But damn, on my bad days I’ll play piano more beautifully than you would have ever heard before.

Usually it’s about this time you’re ready to interact with other human beings face to face. Mum is usually pottering around the kitchen or the garden, singing or humming along to you playing or complimenting you in between songs she particularly enjoys.

She will ask if you’ve had lunch yet; you’ll say not yet. Most days she won’t press you further than that. She knows if she does you will either snap at her or cry. One of the two..

Food is a touchy topic for me. I’ve got an eating disorder. My psychologist said it sounds like anorexia. Here’s the catch though.. I’ve never actually fell to the weight criteria for a proper diagnosis of anorexia. Literally I’m too fat to have the mental disorder it sounds like i have. Go figure.

So instead the category it falls into is EDNOS (eating disorder not otherwise specified). Which is basically the everything else. That being said however, my brain works the way of a person with anorexia.

Anorexia, I’m sure you’ve heard of it but you probably don’t really know much about it overall. There’s the obvious, low weight. Anorexia is the one that when you hear ‘eating disorder’, the thought that comes to mind is generally anorexics. Did you know though that besides low body weight there’s; hair loss, brittle nails, dull skin, dry/flaky/scaly skin, heartburn, nausea, irritability, low moods, feelings of weakness and fatigue, dizziness, being cold all.the.time., lanugo (faint hair that grows on the body to keep you warm when starving), fainting spells, shaky/weakness in legs mainly.. and pain. Fucking pain. When your stomach is stretching or shrinking, either or hurts. Also fun fact your organs can shut down, you can go into a coma and die. If that’s not bad enough it’s statistically the hardest mental illness to recover from and it has the highest death rate. Fun times to be blessed with that bad boy huh?

My psych explained anorexia to me as anxiety+OCD=anorexia.

Fun little cocktail of mental health problems 😂

I’ve had it about 4-5 years.. well I know it’s been a problem for that long but it’s plausible that I could have had it before and not been aware.

It’s the worst. It’s literally hell. Living hell. It’s seeing yourself in a mirror and being disgusted. Or crying.. or just being plain disappointed in yourself. Sometimes you’ll see a good thing or two when you look but usually it’s this hostile person staring at your flaws.

It’s getting moody around ‘mealtimes’ (when a normal person would eat) and taking it out on those around you.

It’s the constant obsessive thoughts. Because it is an obsession. An obsession with food.. or more without it. But I’m not sure if you’ve been starving before. Like not the phrase ‘I’m starving’ but literally your body has gone into starvation mode. Almost all you can think about is food.

Now let me explain the difference between a bulimic person and an anorexic one. Someone with bulimia right about now will either have already caved or will be stuffing their face with food because they gave in. Usually they will purge it in some way; by forcing themselves to vomit, laxatives, diet pills, water pills, (driven) exercise etc.

someone with anorexia can also purge which is where it gets confusing but usually a bulimic person has these binge->purge sessions pretty regularly whereas an anorexic will hold out a lot longer and doesn’t really binge as much.

Anorexia is all about control. In case you hadn’t realised.

Usually it’s about striving to be perfect... and control is needed for that. It’s also a lot to do with outside surroundings being out of the person’s control. So in order to try and cope they will create control somewhere else where it may not have necessarily been needed. Honestly I don’t understand the way bulimic people’s brains work and they don’t get anorexics. Kinda weird that but eh. It’s hard to explain it all to someone who doesn’t have eating troubles at all because they simply can’t comprehend why you would specifically go against one of your most basic instincts.

I probably couldn’t explain that one really.

It’s a no brainer for people to know that someone with an eating disorder is insecure about themselves. But does anyone really know what that level of insecurity looks like or how it presents itself? Probably not.

It’s nasty words and short tempers. Misunderstandings and overreactions.

It comes off as sad and desperate.. attention seeking. It’s jealousy, the worst kind imaginable.

Tears, voices cracking, puffy eyes.

Sobs that wrack your soul and hearts shattering with each breath.

Stinging eyes, throat hoarse, bloodied knuckles and skin you tore away from your fingers.

Uncontrollable tremors, your heart pounding too loud in your head. Make it stop.

It’s not being able to breathe. Thinking you’ll die.. fuck a panic attack isn’t how I wanted to go?!

It’s pushing people away before they get the chance to hurt you first. Only to apologise the next day and beg for them to stay. Go away! Come back!!? No! Fuck you!!

Go. Stay. GO. STAY

I’m just fucking sorry.. okay?

I hate that I do this. I hate that you care. I hate that I’ve forgotten how to care about myself. I wish I could change these parts of my brain. I’m like a ticking time bomb or a slow acting poison. I will paralyse you.. suffocate you. Maybe leave nothing left.

Someone told me all I ever do is drag everyone down.

Another asked me if I wanted to bring everyone else down with my problems.

No. Not at all.

So I stopped talking about my problems; and that’s how I’ve come to this carcophany of thoughts and feelings and insecurities. And the worst part is that’s not even everything.

People with an ED have thought distortions. That means they don’t see themselves in the way others do. People think this means purely physical but it can mean personality wise too. So because of this, if someone compliments me I don’t really take it in. It’s like.. a filter or something that’s always there and only certain things get in or out. The compliments rarely make it through the bubble. Insults and criticism however, they stick in my brain whether I want them to or not. They will literally cause an ocd tick about it going over and over in a loop on repeat. And I believe it too.. it takes a lot to drill these ideas out of me. Like for example that one about all you ever do is drag people down was like 3 years ago. And it’s like i can’t remember the way the memory looked but I can hear that person’s voice clear as day.

It’s fucked how people from my past haunt me like that. To the point I hear their voices. In a way it’s getting close to a full blown episode if I’m at the point I’m properly ‘hearing their voices’. it’s sort of like a memory.. but too vivid. Like I think one memory I had I got the words right but the voice I was hearing was the wrong person. It took me a long time to remember who actually said it and it really confused me. They’re like echoes in my head. Sometimes I can control it and sometimes I can’t. Which is terrifying in itself. I don’t often talk about these things let alone remember them myself.

A full blown mental episode for me is bad. They are bad for anyone involved.. and sometimes those not involved too. I’ll lose the plot. Won’t eat right, won’t sleep right, hearing things, imagining things.. my brain plays all kinds of tricks on me. But the biggest part is that I’m scared that ‘something’ is coming to get me and I’m convinced that if I sleep I’ll be off guard and won’t be able to protect myself. The level of terror I have though it’s like a fucking demon is coming to get me or something that no one will be able to protect me from but myself. Metaphorically speaking it does make sense but at the time I see it very literally. I wouldn’t even want to know what I’m like from someone else’s point of view there. I get scared to talk, paranoid as anything. I’ll mentally be incapable of doing anything that requires much thought process on my own. And also I’ll have something that I’m fixated on that has usually caused said episode.

People don’t know what to do though when they happen. Because if you aren’t qualified how could you know really. And my problem is I’m intelligent. My brain has the power to pull the wool over my eyes. So I’ll be convinced I’m better until something pops my little bubble/filter/distortion barrier and it’s like oh my fucking god I’m just as bad as always. But anyways, I tried to read a lot of things to like help myself mentally. But everything I know.. the mental illness knows.. and can use against me. It’s hard to explain but it’s literally like the worst sense of betrayal and disappointment when you snap out of it.

Self sabotage is a pretty human thing but that level of self sabotage.. like touché brain you impress me nonetheless.

Sometimes I wish I could look into some kind of magical crystal ball or scrying mirror and see a parallel universe where I was never born. See how things would be. Then I would like to see one where the night I took all those pills and laid down to go to sleep, that friend didn’t message me and ask me how I was just at the exact time I didn’t care enough to lie.

The last one I would like to see is a parallel universe where Amy survived.

Then again maybe the last one wouldn’t be a good idea. I think it would break me to see that and then come back to a world where she died at 7.

I don’t think i really explained BPD in this rant. That’s borderline personality disorder. And no I don’t have split personalities that one is multiple personality disorder or DID.

BPD was given its name because a number of patients were presenting in the ER with psychotic symptoms but they themselves were on the cusp of being psychotic and neurotic. Therefore, ‘borderliners’. It’s a lot more to do with emotional disregulation than with personalities. It’s been found in studies that people with BPD have an overactive amiygdyla (however you spell it.) and that part of the brain controls emotion and emotion regulation.

A good way to describe it is through the sims. Imagine when you’re creating a sim and in the traits section there is one you can’t unselect called which is like a supertrait that controls the rest. I don’t really know mine but it appears it’s like insecurity or something similar.

And then there’s the emotions. Imagine the sim emotion bar thing. That’s a normal person. Now a person with BPD has this same bar but doubled at the top and bottom. So twice as big. It’s great with good emotions. You feel them so deeply it warms your soul. But the other side is the doozy. You feel twice as shitty when bad things happen. Literally people with BPD feel emotions in a different way from normal people. Their brains function differently... it’s not one of those ones you just have to look on the bright side and deep breathe because that shit won’t fly with BPD.

You also have intense feelings of emptiness, loneliness and sadness that is a constant.

You lack the ability to self validate like others can. Basically say you have an idea.. you won’t know it’s a good idea until someone tells you it’s a good idea and then you take that as like acceptance or they have ‘validated’ you. On the other hand we are very sensitive to invalidation. This means that any time we have been invalidated (made to feel wrong, someone is saying something isn’t right, criticism etc) or even perceived invalidation. That one means when you think that someone invalidated you but in reality they didn’t.. the outcome is the same. It makes you feel worthless, rejected, sometimes suicidical, unimportant and the list goes on and on.

People with BPD are always at risk of ‘problem’ behaviours, self harm and suicide. Problem behaviours include things like drugs, risky driving, promiscuity and breaking the law.

They also have incredibly intense and unstable relationships and are prone to sudden outbursts of emotion.

There aren’t any medications proven effective for BPD clients at present. It is possible though to learn the behaviours that they lack and some people go on to not meet the criteria for BPD after years of therapy.