#once i get a pair of white 3D red blue paper glasses which are really really hard to find

[cescalr]

the brainrot is continuing. im making sims now. nobody would like to seem them though i’ll probably showcase them at some point anyway. when i like them. when they pass the vibe check 

[joongie-smiles]

A Place to Call Home

Hello, wonderful readers! So this is something a little different from my usual one-shots, This is just some stuff about Keith. I had started thinking about the relationship between Shiro Keith and Adam and thought it would be something like this. By the way, I didn’t know if Adam had a last name (canon or otherwise) only that his initial was W, so i just picked a random Arabic last name because. If any of my Arab readers (hope I don’t offend with an umbrella term) have any suggestions for Adam’s last name, please let me know!

When he was a kid, Keith was never really into superheroes. It wasn’t that he didn’t like them--he thought most of them were interesting, like Captain America and Iron Man--but he never felt the need to buy everything with their faces plastered on it or fawn over the latest comic book issue. He never had unbridled adoration for these fictional superheroes. Instead, all his awe went to the real life superhero in his life--his dad.

For as long as 7 year old Keith could remember, his father had always been a superhero. He didn’t have cool super powers like Spiderman, but he saved people every day. He was strong, courageous, brave, and the best dad a kid could ever ask for. His dad had been a firefighter long before Keith was born, and he would tell him all the stories of his adventures. His dad worked pretty much all day, but he always made an effort to spend time with him. When his dad finally deemed him old enough, Keith would tag along and stay at the fire department. He spent most of the day coloring in the coloring books the rest of the crew gave him or simply running around the station. He would often steal his dad’s helmet and done it proudly as he stood on the table and proudly told the firefighters around him that one day he would be a firefighter and save people just like his dad. His bold statement would be accompanied with a round of cheers and jubilant laughter. Most of his days were spent like that: with laughter and joy and the simple delight of being with his dad.

His dad was a real life superhero, and while it was glorious at times, it was also devastating. Even as a kid, Keith understood that those nights when his dad came back all patched up and looking beat, that meant it had been a bad day. He understood that when he limped around their small apartment and winced, it was from more than just the physical pain. He understood that when his dad hugged him tightly and told him that he loved Keith in that wobbly, tearful tone, it meant that they had lost someone in the fire. He understood that October 30 was a day of mourning for the Koganes, and he knew that when his dad started tossing and turning at night calling out for ‘Krolia’, he should just lie at his side and hold him close. He understood that when he opened the door that dreadful night to a policeman with a pained expression that something bad had happened. And he understood by just looking at the firemen around the police officer and hearing their soft, pained “we’re so sorry, Keith” that his dad wasn’t coming home.

After that, Keith stopped believing in superheroes all together. He had no time to fantasize about heroes and adventures, he had to focus on where he was going to stay. He had no relatives willing to take him in, and no matter how hard the crew fought to keep him, the lawyer assigned to Keith thought it would be best from him to go into the system and find a stable family instead of getting raised by a “village” as she’d put it. He fought the decision, and even threatened to run away, but in the end, he boarded the first train out of Houston and to some orphanage in Oklahoma. The first couple of months he tried to behave and fit in, he really did, but no one else seemed to be making the same effort. The older kids were forever mad at the world, and the younger ones were focused on taking care of themselves more than others. After all, there was no point in making connections when all you wanted to do was get out of there.

Keith soon discovered how mean children could be. Whether they pointed out his “weird looking” eyes or rudely imitated him when he spoke Korean, they always seemed to find something odd to point out about Keith. The incessant teasing soon turned into rough shoves and harsh glares. After the first month or so of such treatment, Keith was fed up with it all. In the cloak of night, he ran away from the orphanage and bought a ticket back to Texas with some money he had stolen from the orphanage’s owner. Honestly, Keith had no idea what he was doing, all he knew was that he had to get out of that place. He knew he didn’t have family in Texas anymore, but the orphanage wasn’t any better. He was a smart kid, he could figure out what to do once he got there. Looking back, Keith realized that what he did was dumb, and he was glad that a pair of policemen found him and stopped him from boarding the train to Texas. The lawyer assigned to Keith’s case agreed to transfer him to another orphanage, but only if he didn’t run away again. Keith agreed, and in no time, he moved up to Oklahoma City. This time, he lasted almost 5 months before he became restless and itched to leave. A family had been interested in adopting him, but Keith refused. He wasn’t ready to be a part of a new family, and he felt like accepting their offer was like he was replacing his father, and he would never, ever do that. He ended up running away again, and as a result, he was transferred to a new orphanage. The same thing happened again and again; he would go to an orphanage, get in fights, run away, then be sent to a new one and the cycle would repeat. He hoped from orphanage to orphanage, from family to family, never quite finding a place where he belonged. For years, it seemed that he just didn’t belong anywhere. It wasn’t until his 12th birthday that he had a little hope for happiness.

At the orphanage he was staying at for the time being, they allowed you to pick a place to spend your birthday as long as it was within their ability to take you there. Most kids wanted to go to the movie theater or a skating rink, but Keith wasn’t really interested in anything in , particular. Earlier that day, he’d seen a poster advertising the opening of the galaxy branch at their local museum, so when he was asked where he wanted to go, he chose to go to the museum on a whim. Though their caretaker was surprised by his answer. She agreed and took Keith and the rest of the kids to the museum. Once there, they were allowed to run wild. Most of them paired up and went to look at the dinosaur exhibits, but Keith decided to stay on his own and go to the new galaxy exhibit.

To put it in simple words, it was breathtaking. The room was dark, and there was a pattern of stars painted on every wall. Constellations littered the ceiling, peeking out behind the large planets that hung from the wall. The sun hung right above the entrance and glowed faintly with yellow light which pulsed every now and then to imitate a dancing sunspot. From there, the inner planets followed. Mercury was a mild grey one minute, but it jumped to life with swirls of gold and blue that ran across the surface of the planet, swift as the Roman god it had been named after. Venus hung large and proud, glowing with the light of a thousand fires, its beauty unmatched by the others. Beside it hund Earth. It was about the same size, but the contrast of colors--one dark red, the other blue and green--made it stand out beside the vain planet. The white clouds moved lazily across the face of the blue and green planet, and they twisted to and fro like a group of gymnasts tracing the path of the winds. The last inner planet, Mars, was a furious red that reminded Keith of a time long ago and stories of heroic firefighters saving the day. His lips quirked up slightly at the thought.

Following the inner planets, a ring of meteorites hung across the exhibit. The shape of the space rocks varied from pebble sized to boulder sized. They were lined up neatly and meticulously and stood firmly in place, like a line of soldiers holding back enemy intruders. Behind the army of asteroids was the outer planets. The outer planets were much larger than the inner planets, and their moons surrounded them. Jupiter, the biggest planet in our solar system, hung low enough that when Keith stood right under it, he could vaguely see all the wires and lights hid behind the thin, sand colored cloth. It looked calm and peaceful for the most part, but in intervals of 10 minutes, a raging storm blew across the surface of the grand planet, bringing with it the rage and power associated with the Roman god of lightning. Where Jupiter was large and intimidating, Saturn was all elegance and grace. The yellow planet’s large rings shined delicately as if they had been constructed with ice from space itself. Though the circumference was impressive, the rings were barely thicker than a stack of papers. Next, to Saturn hung Uranus, the planet with the infamous funny name. For all the giggles it caused, the planet itself was beautiful. Its surface was painted with a dusty baby blue shone softly and paler than the elegant Saturn before it and the glorious Neptune after it. Neptune was a shade of blue Keith had never seen. It was bold and attracted the attention of anyone who walked by it. It proudly hung at the end of the solar system, and its radiance seemed to rival the sun’s. After Neptune, where Pluto should have been, was an entrance to a smaller room inside the exhibit. The sign above the entrance proudly deemed it “A Journey Through Space” and encouraged him to take a pair of 3D glasses. He did just what the sign suggested and walked in to experience space. Like the rest of the exhibit, the room was dimly lit, and stars littered the walls and ceiling. But here, meteors drifted by, and shooting stars zipped through space. Everything was much closer and the occasional space fact popped up on one of the walls. He didn’t mind the interruption, in fact, he thought the fascinating facts added to the experience. Unfortunately, the trip through space ended, but he had been rewarded with a thin book about space and a pin that identified him as a space cadet.

Eventually, his birthday and the trip to the museum came to an end, but Keith wasn’t sad. On the contrary, he was happier than he’d ever been in years. He no would no longer have to deal with the constant search for a place to call home, he now knew where he belonged. He belonged in space. He decided that he’d work hard and do everything that he could to go to space and become a real life space cadet. It didn’t matter if he didn’t feel at home in any of these orphanages or cities, they were just stepping stones for his goal, his future. Keith looked at the back of the pin and smiled down at the name inscribed in it. Galaxy Garrison. That’s where his home would be. There, at the Galaxy Garrison, he would find his place.

Keith worked hard to get into the Garrison. He took every advanced class offered at his high school, worked on his anger issues, and had read every book on space and piloting that he could find. When application season came, he busted his butt on them and spent weeks perfecting his essays and recommendations. After his application was submitted, he would rush to the mailbox every morning and searched through the mail for the familiar grey and orange G. It wasn’t until early spring that he received his reply. When Keith spotted the Garrison’s insignia, he grabbed the letter and ran to his room. He paced restlessly back and forth, holding the letter tightly to his chest. He was afraid of opening it. What if they were rejecting him? What if he hadn’t won any of their scholarships? What if--

He stopped and stared at the picture on his bedside of him and his dad. That picture and the dark-hilted knife his father always had were the only things he had left from his dad. He tried to rarely think about his dad so as to not get sad, but on this rare occasion, he did. He sat down on his bed and looked at the picture. His dad was beaming back at him, and his words whispered softly in his mind. You can do anything as long as you believe in yourself. With a shaky sigh, Keith carefully opened the letter and read the printer words: Keith Kogane, we are happy to inform you that you have been accepted to the Galaxy Garrison and are the fortunate recipient of a full-ride scholarship. Congratulations.

That was the first time since his dad died that he’d cried from joy.

When he met Takashi Shirogane, he was convinced that he’d met a superhero for the second time in his life. Junior Officer Takashi Shirogane wasn’t a teacher at the Garrison, he was an exploration pilot, but he would often poke his head in during pilot training. He was well known around the Garrison for being the best pilot of his time. Everyone looked up to him, and Keith was no exception. He was determined to be just as good of a pilot, if not better, than the famous exploration pilot. And if his simulation scores were anything to go off of, he was well on his way to being the best pilot of his generation. Keith knew that he was an amazing pilot, but he tried not to let it get to his head. He still stayed up late to study for exams and spent hours doing his homework just like everyone else. Whenever the flight simulator was open for practice, Keith would spend hours practicing and perfecting his technique. He continued to stay at the top of his class and people started to notice.

“Space is the boundless three-dimensional extent in which objects and events have relative position and direction. Physical space is often conceived in three linear dimensions, although modern physicists usually consider it--” A knock on the door interrupted Mr. Wahim’s lecture. He turned to look through the little window in the door and scowled when he saw who it was. “Oh for goodness sakes,” he mumbled. “Class, read pages 100 to 120 from your book tomorrow and take clear notes. Make sure you understand the lesson because we will be taking a quiz on it.” He ignored the groans that followed and walked over to the door. He opened it just enough to poke his head through to talk with the person on the other side. Unlike his classmates, Keith ignored his teacher’s conversation and focused on reading the lesson assigned to them. The theory of the black hole was one of the most difficult things to study let alone understand, so he was determined not to waste any precious work time Mr. Wahim gave him. He was about to start the theory of general relativity when the curious hushed whispers became excited exclamations. Keith looked up to see what his classmates were so excited about and almost let out a cry of surprise of his own when he saw who was standing beside Mr. Wahim.

Takashi Shirogane smiled back at the classroom full of awe-struck teenagers. “I’m sorry to interrupt the class, but I just came by to talk with Mr. Wahim.”

“Even though Mr. Shirogane knows perfectly well that I have a class in session,” Mr. Wahim reprimanded him, but there was no real harshness behind his words.

Mr. Shirogane’s smile turned sheepish. Mr. Wahim relented and waved at his awe-struck students. “The bell rings in 30 seconds, go ahead and pack up your things. Don’t forget the assignment.” The class rushed to collect their things and went back to whispering excitedly.

“What do you think they have to talk about?”

“I don’t know but there probably won’t be talking at all. Didn’t you hear that they’re dating?”

“Wow, if Mr. Wahim let the class out 30 seconds before the bell for him then they must be.”

Keith ignored the gossip and collected his things. Next he had lunch, so he’d head to the library and get some homework done. Maybe if he finished early he might be able to get a couple practice hours in.

“Keith, can you stay back for a minute?” Mr. Wahim called out to him.

There was a low chorus of “ooh”s, and Keith rolled his eyes at his classmates immature response. He stepped away from the door and made his way to Mr. Wahim’s desk. Once the rest of his classmates had filed out the door, it was Mr. Shirogane who spoke first, much to Keith’s surprise. “So you’re the one who is trying to beat my record.”

Keith blinked, dumbfounded. “What?”

From beside him, Mr. Wahim scoffed. “I told you not to start like that. You’ll intimidate the poor kid.”

Mr. Shirogane rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. “Right, I forgot.” He cleared his throat and stuck his hand out for Keith to shake. “Sorry, let me start over. Hi, I’m Takashi Shirogane. I’m a pilot for the Garrison, and I think you have some pretty impressive skills.”

“What?” Keith repeated. Apparently when faced with his idol all he could say was that cursed one letter word. It was embarrassing.

Mr. Shirogane seemed to find his response endearing. “You’re doing really well in your classes and you’re way ahead of you classmates. You are an impressive cadet, and I just wanted to let you know that if you ever want a training buddy or maybe some flying tips, I’m here.”

Finally, Keith could get enough control to respond. “Wait, isn’t that favoritism.”

“Well, yes, but if we say that you asked for the help and I’m simply mentoring you, then there shouldn’t be a problem. Anyway, every teacher has a favorite,” Mr. Shirogane admitted.

“That is true,” Mr. Wahim confirmed from his desk. He was grading the class’ solar system test. He motioned towards a large pile of papers. “They, for instance, are not my favorites.” He held up a small stack of 4 papers. “These are my favorites.”

Keith was tempted to ask if he was one of the four. “I appreciate the offer, but why me?”

“Like I said, you have the making of an amazing pilot,” Mr. Shirogane said. “Plus,” he added. “You remind me of myself when I was your age. Determined, ambitious--”

“--reckless, easily irritable,” Mr. Wahim added.

He ignored his comment. “So, what do you say?”

Keith didn’t have to think about it for too long. “Yes, of course. Thank you, Mr. Shirogane.”

The older pilot smiled. “Call me Shiro.”

Ever since then, Keith started spending more time with Shiro, and consequently Mr. Wahim--or Adam as he insisted Keith call him. Usually, they worked on Keith’s piloting and hand to hand and weapons combat. Keith had known that he was a good pilot and a good fighter, but beside Shiro, he was the opposite. He grilled flight plans and maneuvers into his head and pushed him to his limits. Though Keith had always worked hard in his classes, they had never required him to push himself, but training with Shiro did. Surprisingly enough, there was no real backlash to their afterhours training, in fact, the commanders seemed to encourage it. What better way to improve than to train with someone willing to share their knowledge and skill. In the beginning, some of his classmates were bitter towards Keith, but they quickly took this as a challenge to improve and become better themselves. Some even found junior officers or teachers to serve as their mentors.

Aside from the training, Keith spent time with Shiro just to hang out with him. He learned that despite his spotless record, Shiro could be more than a little reckless. One day after training, Keith and Shiro were sitting on a dune overlooking the endless sand surrounding the Garrison.

“Have you ever flown outside of the simulator before?” Shiro asked him.

“No,” Keith replied. “Apparently we’re not ready to fly yet.”

“Do you think you’re ready?” Shiro asked.

“Yes,” he immediately said.

“Good because this would have been a waste if you didn’t.” Shiro stood up and walked towards a pile of rocks nearby.

“What do you mean--” Keith was cut off by a low rumbling sound coming from behind the rocks. He frowned and ran to see what was causing the noise. When he rounded the boulders, he stopped in surprise and gaped in awe. There, standing before him, were two gliders. They were small, intended to be for only one person, and if the light scratches and worn down paint was anything to go off of, they were certainly not new. The Garrison’s insignia was stamped on the hull of each glider.

“They old gliders the Garrison used to use for pilot training, They’ve got some new, updated versions, so they don’t need them. I offered to take a pair off their hands,” Shiro explained.

“Wow,” Keith whispered softly. He walked over and touched the side of one of the gliders. The metal was cold under his fingertips, and he could feel the rough patches where the whipping sand had eroded the metal. The glider seemed to purr softly in response to his touch.

“So, Keith, ready to go on your first flight?” Shiro asked.

In response, Keith hopped into the small cockpit. Shiro laughed at his enthusiasm and climbed into the other glider. “All right, the controls are the same as the ones in the simulator, but it might take you some time to get used to them, so take it slow at first and they’re kind of old so--”

Keith made quick work of the control and zoomed forward. He cheered in delight. He flew past the sandy dunes and thin desert plants. He flew higher and grinned as the desert and the night sky alike became simple blurs of light. As he pushed forward and tore through the sky, he felt free. All his life, he’d been running away from his past and his present, and now, here flying through the night with no worries but the road ahead of him, he felt like he was running towards something. What it was, he couldn’t tell, but he did know that he never wanted to stop feeling like this.

Apparently, the universe had a different plan.

The glider gave a couple of jerks and started to slow down. Keith frowned and pushed on the controls, but it only seemed to make the glider stall more. He barely had enough to veer out of a boulder’s way before the glider skid to an abrupt, bumpy halt. Thankfully, the glider was equipped for sliding on the desert sand, so there wasn’t much damage done to either Keith or the glider itself. Keith popped open the overhead door and climbed out of the glider. Dark smoke started coming from the glider, so Keith stepped back. They had learned that black smoke wasn’t too bad of a sign and there wasn’t any immediate threat of the glider blowing up, but the sight of the billowing smoke made his heart squeeze. He knew that there was no danger, that there were no flames, but his skin got hotter and his breathing became labored. Images played across his mind: the firestation, a burning building he’d never seen but imagined so clearly, his dad. His dad. His vision became blurry, and he almost missed the second glider landing gracefully beside him. The smoke crowded his vision, and the only indication of someone else’s presence was the comforting arms that wrapped around his small frame.

“Hey, it’s okay, I’ve got you,” Shiro whispered soothingly. “I’m right here, okay? Your safe. Just breathe, breathe with me.”

It took a couple more minutes for the shaking to stop and a couple after that for the tears to stop. Keith leaned against Shiro and breathed with him. He allowed himself to just exist in the peace of the moment, and found comfort in the still night sky and Shiro’s comforting words. Eventually, Keith pulled away. “Sorry,” he said softly.

Shiro smiled softly. “Don’t worry about it. I can always get a new glider. Next time, just take it easy, these things are pretty old.” They both knew that he wasn’t talking about the glider, but Keith appreciated.

Shiro nodded in the direction of the Garrison. “Come on, let’s head home. You’ve got homework to do, and Adam will get mad if we stay up to late.”

Keith nodded and walked alongside him. Home, he thought with a smile. Maybe, just maybe, he had found his home.

Keith stuffed his books into his bag and made his way out of the library. Next week, he had exams coming up, and he had been spending all the time he could studying in the library. He would have done it at the apartment, but he thought Adam and Shiro deserved some them time. They hadn’t had any date nights and Adam was getting a little grumpy about it.

As he made his way out of the library, he passed by two cadets who had their heads craned over a large textbook. He vaguely recognized them from his class. Hunk and Taylor? Something like that. They were pretty talented cadets too, and they worked really hard. They were practically attached at the hip and Keith had never seen one without the other. He sighed and pulled his bag closer. It would be nice to have friends like that, it would make this day a little better. Maybe he would talk to them one day.

Keith made a stop at Adam’s classroom, but was surprised to find it empty. He was usually in here till 4 and it was barely 3. He shrugged it off and walked to the post. The post office was by the staff’s lounge and was where any mail for commanders and teachers was kept. The woman behind the desk barely spared him a look when he went over to Shiro and Adam’s boxes. The couple often sent him to do little errands like get the mail, so they were used to seeing him around. After picking up the mail, he walked to Shiro and Adam’s shared apartment. Keith had never officially moved in with them, it had just happened. Keith was over so much that Adam eventually gave their spare room to Keith. Even though he technically had a dorm room, Keith stayed over at the apartment, He wasn’t sure if he could consider it his home yet, so he just took to referring to it as “the apartment”.

Once he arrived, Keith placed his hand to the glass panel to open the door, but instead of opening, the panel glowed red with the words  “access denied” glaring at him. Keith frowned and tried again. The door stayed closed  He double checked to make sure that it was the right apartment. When he confirmed that it was, he stepped up to the door and tried the old fashioned way. He rapped his knuckles against the metal door. “Hey! It’s me, Keith. The panel’s acting up and it won’t let me in,” he called.

He was met with a couple minutes of silence before a quick “coming!” answered.

Keith stepped back and waited. There were a few beeps and a click, and the door slid open. Adam smiled at him. “Hey. sorry, must have accidently manuely locked it.” He stepped back to allow Keith to go inside. “Let’s go the the kitchen, Keith!” Adam insisting, raising his voice.

Keith frowned at the man. “Um . . . okay?” He followed Adam to the kitchen. As they go closer to the kitchen, Keith caught a faint whiff of something sweet. “Hey, why does it smell like--”

“Happy Birthday, Keith!” Adam and Shiro cheered in unison once they entered the kitchen. In Shiro’s hands was a hazardously frosted cake with a single lit candle. The words ‘Happy Birthday, Keef!’ were written in Adam’s elegant handwriting in red frosting.

Keith blinked. He was at a loss for words. He didn’t even know that Adam and Shiro knew what this day meant to him.

“You don’t like it,” Shiro concluding. He lowered the cake and his smile seemed to drop with it.

“No!” Keith hurried to exclaim. “It’s not that, I just . . . didn’t expect it. I didn’t even know you guys knew.”

“We didn’t until yesterday,” Adam admitted. “I was updating my student’s records and I noticed your birthday.”

“You hadn’t mentioned anything, so we thought it would be nice to make a surprise for you,” Shiro said.

Keith starred at the couple. Shiro was nervously standing behind the counter surrounded with what must have been some of Adam’s best cooking, and Adam stood beside him with a hand on his shoulder. They had planned all of this and done this all last minute just for him? He knew how busy they both were and the fact that they took the time to make something for his birthday made a smile break out on Keith’s face. “Thanks,” he said.

Adam and Shiro’s smiles matched his and they quickly went about setting the table for dinner. Keith insisted on helping, but Adam shooed him away and told him to wash up for dinner. Keith smiled and went to the sink to wash his hands. As they ate, they made idle chit chat about their days, Shiro’s missions, Adam’s classes, and Keith’s upcoming exams/ Shiro promised to help Keith study, but only if he stopped staying up too late. Keith couldn’t seem to stop smiling, not that he wanted to. He honestly couldn’t remember a birthday as amazing as this one. After his dad died, Keith usually spent his birthdays alone, so he had stopped celebrating them all together. But now, here he was, surrounded by people he wholeheartedly believed loved and cared about him. He couldn’t be happier.

Shiro collected the plates and took them back to the kitchen. When he returned, he was carrying a thin, rectangular present. “It’s not much,” Shiro admitted, “but we hope you like it.”

Keith took the present from Shiro’s outstretched hands and opened the wrapping paper carefully. Inside, there was something more valuable to Keith than anything anyone other than his father had ever given him. Inside, there was a red picture frame with a picture of Adam, Shiro, and Keith. It had been Adam and Shiro’s anniversary and they had invited Keith to go outside the base with them. Keith had insisted on staying, saying that it was their anniversary and that they should spend it together. They had laughed at his response, and insisted that they should spend the day together as a family. That had been the first time they had called their little trio a family, and Keith had cried. At the sight of his tears, Shiro had panicked and Adam hurried to apologize. Keith had only smiled and told them that he’d be ready in a couple minutes. In the photo, Shiro had one arm around Adam and the other was ruffling Keith’s hair. Adam’s hand rested on Keith’s shoulder, and all three of them were beaming. In black, elegant cursive the word ‘family’ was written along the bottom length of the frame.

Keith stared down at the picture and was silent for a moment. He looked up at Adam and Shiro’s smiling faces and he knew he was done searching for a home. He had the perfect on right in front of him.

[turquoisemagpie]

WKM: 20 Years Later.

6)

Lottie wasn’t exactly sure where this Mr. Warfstache was taking her as he seemed to go through any door that was straight ahead of him, but strangely she wasn’t too concerned about it. Usually she would always be on guard around strangers, especially if there were any other people around. Back in her school days she was sadly naïve as a child and instantly trusted whoever needed her for something, and whoever needed her for something usually needed her to be the butt of a joke so she could be laughed at. After so many humiliating pranks pulled on her, Lottie trusted no one who she didn’t know very well and tried her best to avoid anyone approaching her. But this time was different. Following this peculiar man felt like you were in a maze and he was the guide of the maze that knew every corner, path, and dead-end like the back of his hand. She felt relaxed for once. And the air around her seemed warm and swirled around her every step, as if something invisible was dancing all around her as they walked. You could hardly keep up with Damien and Celine as they practically danced in utter joy around Wilford and Lottie who walked side by side. Damien walked ahead of the clueless Wilford and looked him up and down, silently judging his abnormal fashion sense, with a wide smile on his face. Meanwhile Celine managed to squeeze herself between Wilford and Lottie to walk with them, imagining that she could feel their hands in hers. Her red aura irradiated brightly, almost blindingly, and you could see as suspended water droplets floated past you that she was crying as she was laughing gleefully.

Wilford suddenly said, rather loudly, “I understand, from what the Jim reporters have told me, that you are looking for a job here, as an investigative reporter.” Curiously looking around at everything they passed, Lottie said, “That’s true. I’m on my own personal investigation myself and need some information that the Jims have access to. Since they said their archives are confidential to anyone who didn’t work in the same job as them, and I myself am looking for a job, I thought it would be best for me to take up any position going here.” Wilford smiled. “Wow! You certainly have your priorities sorted. And I must say you seem very confident for someone who has no idea what our work entails, or even if there’s a job going at all.” Lottie’s smile fell a little. She didn’t consider that point. But she couldn’t really change her mind now she’d gotten this far. “Well, it’s not like I have the option to decline the job offer, is it?” she explained, “From what the Jims’ said, anyone who knows anything about this… company either works here or ends up in deep shit.” “You’d be right there.” “Well, I personally wouldn’t want to end up in deep shit.” Lottie explained, “In fact, I don’t think anyone does. So, I would rather take the alternative option and take a job here.” Wilford paused and looked at her with a cocked eyebrow. “No matter the cost?” Lottie smiled back. “As long as the cost is less than… whatever death costs.” Wilford looked a little taken aback and confused at her answer, as if he was actually working out the costs in his head. He then shook his head a little. “I like your moxie, Missy. Fine. I think we could use an errand girl around here, if you don’t mind taking that kind of job. We all have rather committing work to do here with no time to break our focus from smaller jobs. We could really use an extra pair of hands to fetch certain papers, get opinions from, help out in whatever is certainly a two-person job… hell, even reminding us to have something to eat after hours of intense concentration!” They headed towards an elevator at the end of the hallway. “I’ll make an employee’s announcement that we have a new member in the establishment, just so there isn’t a panic when you come to the next board meeting.” They reached the elevator and stepped inside as soon as the doors opened. Wilford’s fingers glided over the buttons as he wondered which one to press. He them assuredly pushed a button and the elevator whirred upwards. Lottie smiled to herself. Oddly enough things were going a lot better than expected. “Wait…” she suddenly remembered, “Isn’t there a contract I have to sign or something?” Mr. Warfstache shook his head. “Then how do you know you can trust your employees’ not to break any rules?” “We tend-… well, I tend to have great confidence in everyone here.” Wilford justified sounding rather confident in himself, “I know everyone here like the back of my hand.” At that he suddenly stood in front of Lottie so she was almost completely hidden behind his back. The elevator stopped, and the doors opened. There was a strange ringing in Lottie’s ears.

As the doors opened, Lottie realised they were moving much slower, creaking madly as they did so, the creaking also sounding as if it’s sound was being stretched and twisted, rising a shrinking in volume and in pitch. The room the doors opened out to suddenly looked much darker, almost in black and white; almost, if it weren’t for the very strange outlines of red and blue that framed the doors of the elevator. Throughout the strange illusion and the ominous noises circling around the place, Lottie didn’t even notice that someone was standing in the elevator doorway in front of Warfstache. Not until they spoke. “And who is this?” said a man’s very very deep and strident voice. Lottie felt the voice pulse through her body, making her shiver in fear instantly. She moved closer to Wilford’s back to try and hide herself better; if that was what this person sounded like, she didn’t want to see him. Celine saw him. Damien saw him too. You saw him. And all of you wanted to kill him. “Nothing gets past you, Dark.” Wilford scoffed, “And before you say or do anything else, please respectfully let me introduce you to her.” Wilford stood aside to reveal Lottie to this ‘Dark’ person.  On seeing him Lottie could tell instantly why he was called Dark. Whatever wasn’t dark on him was either grey or white. His suit was black, his hair was black, even around his eyes seemed blackened, creating the illusion that the beady white of his eyes were suspended in the empty eye sockets of a skull. Almost like a corpse there seemed to be no colour about his body at all, except for the same strange silhouette of red and blue that seemed to border every feature on his body, making him look as if you needed to wear 3D glasses in order to see him clearly. A scraggy beard framed his thin lips and his long uncombed hair covered his right eye, he looked rushed, as if he’d just been unwillingly woken up; that probably would have explained why he pulled a very foul look at Lottie.  “This is Miss Charlotte.” Wilford said in an inappropriately jolly voice, “Or Lottie as she said she’d prefer. She’s come here looking for a job after the Jim’s introduced her to our company.” Dark took a step into the elevator, the doors instantly closing behind them. Although no button was pressed so the elevator remained stationary, the atmosphere in that tiny boxed room felt as if they were plummeting at high speed into the underworld. He stared at Lottie intensely, looking her up and down. Lottie sensed his presence was as terrifying as facing the devil himself, but she felt something in the back of her mind, something standing either side of her, something resting on her shoulders, that told her to be confident and not show any signs of uncertainty towards Dark.  After a moments consideration Dark tilted his head from side to side and finally said, “A rather timid looking thing, don’t you admit, Will? I don’t think she’d be able to cope with the strains of our work. It’s a demanding profession, needing those with sharp minds and able bodies to deal with the demand of rather… spoilt and selfish co-workers.” Wilford scoffed at Dark’s words. “Oh, come off it Dark, she’s perfect for a job here! She waltzed in here with the upmost confidence in getting a place here.” “Then why does she look like she’s going to run away at any second?” “Probably because your behaviour seems a little cold towards me.” Lottie said abruptly, raising her head high at Dark, “That tends to put a crimp on first impressions.”  Dark chuckled, his sonorous chuckles echoing around them making the small space of the elevator seem as wide as a cathedral hall. “Headstrong too. Probably impetuous towards other people’s decisions. Not ideal for a position with so much demand.” “First you say I’m too weak to take orders, now you’re implying I’m too stubborn to take orders.” Lottie pointed out, trying her best to look smug, “Make your mind up. What is it your ideal errand lad has to have that I don’t have?”  “Dark leaned closer to her, his unimpressed face uncomfortably close to hers. “Cooperation.”  “I can cooperate. Even with people who don’t like me.” Lottie insisted proudly, “Just tell me what it is about me that you don’t like. You may as well get all your honesty out now, so I know what to deal with when working with you.”  “Who says you’ll be working with me? Who says you’ll be working here at all?” “I do!”  Wilford’s sudden happy exclamation reminded both Lottie and Dark that he had been present the whole time.  Dark tuned to him in angered surprise. As he stood straight the doors of the elevator suddenly opened.  As dark turned to leave the elevator he muttered, “Wilford, could I have a small discussion with you?”  Wilford huffed and shook his head in annoyance. “Fine.” And he walked out of the elevator. Lottie was just about to follow him until the elevator doors slammed shut, knocking her onto the floor. She stood back up and brushed herself down. She couldn’t help but guess that Dark made the doors slam on her, and for that she kicked the doors in spite. Suddenly, at her kick, the doors opened again onto a completely different floor. Wondering how she didn’t hear or feel the elevator moving, she stepped out into the new floor. 

Although Lottie knew walking around the place would be a little risky as she could bump into people who didn’t know why she was there, she couldn’t resist the urge to have a quick nosey about the place, curiosity being her greatest weakness. She tip-toed down the hallway of the floor she was on, reading the names and numbers on the doors as she passed, feeling the handles to see if the doors were locked or not. Many of the doors were locked, which was a shame; she wondered what was behind the door labeled ‘Col 2: Horror’, or ‘Col 7: Fiction’, or more intriguingly ‘Col 5: Crime’. ‘“Hello?”, she called out, scared but also eager to hear a response. Hearing no reply, she lightly wandered further down the hallway.’ Lottie suddenly stopped herself from walking. ‘She hesitated for a moment, wondering where the narrative voice she was hearing was coming from. But, with some indication that the source of the voice would soon be revealed, she continued walking.’ Lottie suddenly felt her legs moving on their own. In the shock, she grabbed the frame of a doorway to stop herself, her legs nearly carrying on. “Hey!” she called out agitated to nowhere in particular, “Who’s here? How are you doing that?” She centred herself to stand up straight but didn’t let go of the doorway, in case her legs were to have a mind of their own again. Looking around she asked, “Where are you? Show yourself, please.” ‘The Host steps out of hiding to reveal it was he who was indeed ‘messing with her’.’ Out from what seemed like the only open door on the entire floor came a man in a long brown trench coat, who walked also as slickly as a ghost up to Lottie. She was surprised he knew where she was as he had a rather odd and worn-down bandage cloth wrapped around his eyes, the areas around his eye sockets stained a dark brown. Despite the apparent blindfold she could tell, yet again, he had the same face as the Jims, and the Google robo-man, and Mr. Warfstache. At that point she also realised Dark shared the same face to; she was just too scared in that moment to fully notice it. Was it all just an extra ordinary coincidence or were the Jims lying when they said their family had left them? “Are you another Jim?” she asked as he finally stopped to stand in front of her. ‘The Host smiles at the young lady’s humorous question and responds that he is not related to the investigative reporters.’ “…Ok. Then why is it that everyone I’ve seen so far seems to have the same face copied and pasted on them?” ‘It is clear the young lady has only just discovered the quite peculiar phenomenon that is this building, and she still has far more yet to discover and perplex over. The Host suggests she waits until she has seen everything before asking questions.’ Apart from his lips, this ‘Host’ was motionless, standing tall like a statue with his arms behind his back. “’The Host?’” Lottie said, considering how his name sounded in her voice. “… Interesting title. And interesting hobby of commentating everything that happens and addressing yourself in third person.” ‘The Host thanks you, Miss Charlotte.’ Lottie gasped quietly in surprise. ‘“How do you know my name?” she asks astounded. She becomes furthermore stunned as the Host speaks at the same time as here, repeating word for word what she had said. “Stop that! That’s freaking me out.” She exclaims as her fear and anger rises. “I said stop! Please stop it! Stop!”’ Lottie turned away from the Host, covering her face with her hands, trying to take deep breaths before a panic attack had the chance to conjure up. The Host simply stood and smiled to himself; he clearly liked to mess with people who gave him any insolence.

“That’s enough of that.” Damien’s voice bellowed within the Host’s ears. The Host suddenly staggered back from Lottie. Although blind, it was clear that the Host had abilities that made him see beyond the average human eye, so it came as a huge shock to him to realised that standing around the now paranoid Charlotte were three very potent and very angry souls. ‘W-with each breath Miss Charlotte takes her heart steadily slows to a calming pace. The racing voices of her anxious thoughts quieten to reassuring whispers. Her panic leaves, and her mind relaxes. And the Host apologises for his careless and cruel actions.’ Lottie pulls her hands away from her face, suddenly finding herself sighing contently, as if there was nothing to panic about at all. She looks to the Host, who seemed to sense her gaze and looked away from her. ‘A tormented soul myself, the Host sometimes neglects to see the horrifying consequences of his words. The Host is… unsure of what came over him, to torture what is clearly a nervous but kindhearted person.’ He looked back to Lottie for a moment, the direction of his face making it seem more as if he was looking over her shoulder. ‘The Host understands if he isn’t forgiven.’ Lottie dwelled over what he said before saying, “No, it’s ok. I… probably shouldn’t have been here anyway. I was just curious, but… I really shouldn’t go into private areas.” ‘Miss Charlotte is not in a private area.’ The Host mumbled, ‘At least, it is not private for anyone who works in this establishment.’ Lottie smiled a little and said, “Well, if you know that much about me, you’d probably know that any position I have here is still being questioned at the moment.” ‘Not so. The Host can sense Mr. Dark and Mr. Warfstache coming to a moderately agreeable conclusion, as well as coming towards our direction any second soon.’ He smiles. ‘Welcome to the Iplier Institution.’

There was a ‘bing’ as the elevator door opened at the end of the hallway. Warfstache skipped out on seeing Lottie and the Host and strode happily towards them. “Ah!” he roared gleefully, “I see you two have got accustomed to each other. Splendid! I hope good old Hosty here with his little omnipresent talents hasn’t put you off the job in any way, now that I managed to talk some sense into Darki-boy.” He winked at Lottie with his right eye; the fringe of his hair seemed more noticeably covering his left eye. Lottie shook her head. “It’s fine. I’m sure I’ll get used to it.” “Good stuff! And Hosty,” Warfstache rested his arm around the Host’s shoulders to the Host’s clear discomfort. “what do you think of the new errand girl?” ‘The Host is aware there are many things Miss Charlotte will see that will confuse her, scare her, anger her, make her question all perceptions of reality. She is completely oblivious to the dangers ahead of her that would risk her sanity… But the Host also sees that she has not come this far without witnessing her own horrors. With that in mind… and three guardians at her side, she will prevail.’ He unhooks Warfstache’s arm from his shoulders. ‘With that, the Host departs.’ and he walked away back into the room he emerged from, closing the door behind him. “Allllll-righty then!” Wilford Warfstache sang, breaking the awkward silence while clapping his hands and rubbing them, “A think a small announcement to the others is in order.” He motioned Lottie back towards the elevator and seemed almost to dance his way along with her. “This sure is exciting! We haven’t had a new employee for… well, years, now! Especially one that doesn’t have any Iplier effects at all! It’s nice to have a bit of variety every now and then.” “What about the receptionist?” Lottie asked. “Oh, he was just part time. He didn’t want any position higher than a mere receptionist, said he didn’t want to get involved any more than he already has.” Inside the elevator Warfstache pressed a button nearer to the ground floor. “Never explained why really, but he seemed sure about it.” Lottie turned to Warfstache to nod at what he said, and noticed, as a gust of air from the shutting elevator door blew upwards through Warfstache’s fringe, that he had a black eye. She gasped. “Oh gosh, that looks nasty!” Wilford turned to her, giving her a better view of his bluish swollen eye. “I’m sorry?” he pressed, as if nothing was wrong. He suddenly realised just as Lottie was about to point, and he hastily covered his eye back up with his hair. “Oh, nonsense. Don’t worry, Miss, it’s nothing. It’ll clear up eventually.” He straightened himself up and cleared his throat, as if the injury didn’t exist, although he couldn’t help but wince as his hair stung the sensitive bruise over his eye. Seeing Lottie’s unconvinced stare, he continued with a weak smile, “I’ll deal with it later. We have work to do.”