#so picture me and this paint covered stimming three year old sitting there

[lockoutkey]

was told by the one of the speech therapists today that “i’m hearing happy-calm noises for the first time in a long time in this classroom and it’s really getting us (the two therapists in the room next to us) in a better mood.”

when i tell you i’m gonna be riding this high for the next two months i’m not lying

[ace-in-a-shopping-cart]

Director’s Cut Chapter 6: The Castle

Director’s cut chapter 5

Virgil woke to the sound of knocking on the door. Sitting up, he swept his hair out of his eyes. “Come in.”

Patton’s head peeked in, light from the outside making it seem like he was glowing. “Sorry to wake you, Virgil. I was sent to let you know that it’s half an hour ‘til dinner.”

Virgil nodded. “I’ll be out as soon as I’ve changed.” Patton smiled and shut the door.

He stood from the too different bed, head pounding from the crash of adrenaline as well as the lack of proper sleep from the last few weeks. His eyes were already adjusted to the dark so he had no trouble finding the dresser and the clothes that lay atop it.

He picked up the pile, the fabric different from what he was used to. He dressed quickly, almost falling over as he tried to put the leg coverings on but he managed to do it. The shirt was a soft plaid the color of a purple sunset over the ocean. The pants were a deep blue that made Virgil think of the ocean floor.

A knock sounded at the door again and Patton’s head returned. “Are you ready?”

Virgil nodded, exchanging the dark room for the brightly lit hallway. He turned to Patton, arms out slightly as he spun slowly. “Do I look presentable?”

Patton frowned. “Your hair is a mess.”

Virgil reached up to feel it. “I have no idea what it’s supposed to look like.”

Patton moved back into the room Virgil had vacated and gestured for the mer to follow him. Virgil sat on the side of the bed, curious as to what the manservant was planning. Patton opened the dresser and picked up an object that resembled a sea urchin attached to a stick. He turned around and held it up. “Do you mind if I brush your hair for you?”

Virgil shrugged. “If that is what is presentable.” He has no concept of how social interaction is supposed to be done.

Patton smiled and came to sit behind Virgil. The mer felt fingers tangling with his locks, quickly followed by the urchin like part of the object. It was a strange sensation but not an unpleasant one. Patton was quick and efficient. Soon, his hands stilled and retreated, leaving Virgil’s hair feeling smoother.

Virgil stood, making his way to the looking glass set in the corner of the room. His hair was lying flat against his skin, not wild and flowing like it was in the water. He turned back around to face the manservant, who now stood by the door. “Does it look better?” He had no way of gauging human beauty standards so trusted Patton’s judgement.

Patton smiled. “You look great!” He led the way back down the hallway and to the first floor, moving through other hallways with barely any hesitation, completely at ease in this large building. They quickly made their way to a large dining room that already had the table set.

Patton stepped  off to the side and Virgil noticed that, even though the head of the table remained empty, other seats were filled out with Logan and two other people, a place next to Logan left over for Virgil. He sat, once again curling his legs around a chair leg, not exactly sure what to do with them.

The other adult at the table, who Virgil guessed to be Thomas, caught his eye with a smile. “So, Virgil, was it?”

Virgil nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Logan tells me you were captured by pirates.”

The small child sitting next to him, who could be no older than ten, lit up at the sound of that. “Pirates?! Really?”

Virgil nodded, smiling slightly at the enthusiasm. “Yes, the farthest back my memory currently goes is to waking on the pirate ship and running for my life.”

The child almost stood from his seat but Thomas pushed his shoulder back down gently. “Real pirates? Oh, boy!”

Thomas sighed. “Roman, please just eat your soup.”

Virgil looked down at his place setting to find a round, shallow dish filled with a liquid. To his right was a utensil that seemed to be designed to carry the liquid, the soup. Glancing at the child, he observed how he was scooping the soup into the utensil and bringing it to his mouth, blowing gently on it before eating. Virgil copied him to the best of his ability, having never encountered either soup before.

The table conversation went on, Thomas interrogating Virgil while trying to contain the rambunctious ten year old. Whenever Thomas wasn’t questioning Virgil, Logan was trying to see how bad his amnesia was. That was difficult as Virgil was unsure how similar their societies were or how much Virgil would have to bluff. It seemed that they were similar enough that Virgil was able to at least pass the childhood aspect of the test, failing the rest of the test as he tried to keep up the amnesia façade.

Over the course of the meal, Logan and Virgil’s conversation ventured away from what Virgil remembered and veered toward getting to know each other. Virgil was fascinated by Logan’s enthusiasm for the stars. He spoke of going late at night to gaze at them through his telescope, the tube he only ever used at night.  Logan talked about his ventures into painting, the stand and white rectangle, saying how it helped him calm down after a stressful time.

Virgil really couldn’t talk about his own interests as he wasn’t supposed to remember them. So, he just observed the happy family, the way Logan always spoke nicely to Roman, always on his level of knowledge, not Logan’s. He saw the way Thomas tried to engage Roman in the conversation, even if it meant using smaller words. He smiled, knowing this family was loving and strong. Read: Hyperfixations

Once the meal was over, Roman jumped out of his seat and asked Thomas if he could show Virgil around the castle. Thomas laughed and said it was fine as long as Logan went too, confessing he still had some work to complete or he’d be joining them. Logan agreed and the group was off. Roman tried to narrate what they were seeing and where they were going but quickly got tired. Logan picked him up, settling him on his back, and took up the narration, giving a better explanation of things. Soon, they passed through a hallway that was filled with paintings of people on their way to the library.

“Who are those?” Virgil asked, his eyes lingering on each individual, some looking similar and others completely different. He’d never encountered anything similar but guessed they were like what Logan did with the stand and canvas.

“Ah. Those are the generations of Ackroyd’s that came before us. They are our ancestors and, one day, we will join them.”

Virgil frowned. “Forgive me if I sound stupid, but you surely can’t mean that you actually trap souls in paintings, can you?”

Logan laughed, a melody of sound that traveled the length of the hall. “No, we don’t imprison souls in art. The paintings are simply the likeness of the person. Their painting is done when they come of age but it is not hung until the subject either ascends to the throne or dies.”

Virgil nodded. “Okay. Thanks for the explanation.”

“It’s no trouble.” Logan shifted, settling the now sleeping child into a better position. “Although, I do believe that I should get this bug to bed. If you would wait here a moment, I would be glad to show you more of the castle when I get back.”

Virgil smiled and nodded. Logan walked down the hall and Virgil turned to look at the different paintings. He wandered the corridor, eventually coming to stand in front of the last picture on the wall. He was admiring it for a few minutes, picking out the resemblance in features to Logan and Thomas and, to a lesser degree, Roman.

“That’s my father, the current king.” Logan’s voice said behind Virgil, causing the mer to jump. Inattention and a lack of awareness for his surroundings.

“I didn’t hear you return.” he chuckled, turning slightly, allowing Logan to stand beside him. “You mentioned he was away, do you know where?”

“Yes, he and my younger brother, Orville, are away dealing with a business deal that could secure safe trading routes for centuries to come. While he is gone, Thomas and I are splitting the day to day mundane tasks that Father would normally oversee. One of such tasks is to send a battalion after that pirate ship you mentioned. If all goes well, they will no longer be able to cause anyone else harm.”

Logan’s voice had started out as smooth while speaking of his family but changed to a harder, passionate tone when he brought up the pirates. Turning to look into his eyes, Virgil found a similar passion there that caused him to simultaneously want to look deeper and turn away. He chose the second option, heat rising to his cheeks at the thought of the first.  

Virgil cleared his throat. “Should we continue the tour?”

Logan nodded. “If you wish. I’ll take you to the library but I’m not sure how much longer you should be about, you need your rest for your injuries to heal properly.”

Of course. Because that was the main goal right now. Healing the injuries before getting the crystal and getting back to his blessing. That was what mattered right now. Virgil shook his head almost imperceptibly, needing to do the action to clear it. His hand reached to fidget with the other sleeve as they continued their walk, the silence almost deafening now that Logan wasn’t narrating everything in sight. Anxious stimming.

When they entered the library, Virgil’s  jaw was almost on the floor. He spun in a wide circle, trying to understand that so many books could exist in the world, let alone in one room. If he’d been paying attention to Logan, he would have seen the small smile that crossed his face at Virgil’s wonder.

The walls seemed to go up at least three stories, bookshelves lining each of them and filled with enough pieces of literature of varying sizes to keep Virgil entertained his whole life. He almost wasn’t sure if he would ever see this many books again. His eyes trailed up the cases, marveling at the intricate carvings he’d only seen ruins of. When he got to the top of the room, he found windows at the very top that allowed for light to fill the room while still preserving the books.

“Would you like to take one back to your room for some light reading before bed?” Logan’s voice once again startled him back into paying attention to his surroundings rather than his wandering thoughts. He spun back around to face Logan, mind still going a mile a minute but he was now in the eye of the hurricane instead of the brunt of the storm.

“I don’t think I’d know where to start.” He confessed, a blush dusting his cheeks in embarrassment.

Logan just chuckled and took a few steps forward. “What kind of books interest you?”

Virgil shrugged. “All of them. I’d honestly try to read everything I can get my hands on.”

Logan nodded, moving to the nearest bookshelf. “Well, then how about staring you off on the history of the nation. Would that be agreeable?”

Virgil almost jumped for joy but remembered at the last second that he couldn’t do that in human form in a way that would satisfy the movement he wanted to make. Instead, he simply squealed softly and nodded. ”That would be great.” He’s trying to do the same twirling stim from chapter 2 but is unable to as it involves corkscrewing a tail he doesn't currently possess. This leads to the squeal as a different but no less happy stim.

Logan smiled and handed him a large tome. “This should be enough for now. I suggest getting some sleep now as your wounds will benefit from that.”

Virgil nodded. “That’s a good idea. Are you heading to bed as well?” Part of him wanted to spend more time with Logan, even if it were spent in silence walking down a hall.

Logan shook his head, a regretful smile playing on his lips. “Unfortunately, I still have some work to do. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Then I shall bid you a good night.”

“Do you need me to call someone to escort you back to your room or do you remember the way?” Virgil wondered if that was genuine concern or if Logan was trying to figure out what kind of amnesia Virgil had. Either way, it was sweet.

“Just down the hall, up the stairs, and my room should be the third on the left. I think I’ll be fine but I appreciate the offer.”

Logan nodded and started in the opposite direction, heading to his personal study. Virgil went back to his room, changing into the pajamas he found waiting there and crawled into the too different bed. He read for a bit but soon fell asleep again, the run through the woods finally catching up to him.

He woke to the same tingles in his legs and sides as he had the previous few weeks. He didn’t want to shed scales on the bed, nor did he want to spend the whole night trapped in the bed. So, he quickly scrambled out of it and his pants, unsure how the transition would take fabric being between the legs when they fused back into a tail. He found the door to the bathroom, managing to fill the tub and slipping in just as his tail took shape, his fins sprouting from his sides.

He sighed in contentment, finally in sustained contact with fresh water again. It curled around him, thanking him for the simple act of freeing part of the tank water. He smiled, knowing he would be able to cash in a favor but deciding to save it. He sank deeper into the tub, grateful for it being deep enough that he could almost submerge himself in the water. Feeling comfortable in his own scales for the first time in a few weeks and the sound of the water moving acting as a lullaby, he quickly drifted into a deep, healing sleep.

He woke as the sun came through the window and his tail began to tingle once more, signaling the change. He waited until it changed back to legs, mourning the loss of his fins already. He inspected his injuries and found that the bandages that wound around his legs were still intact. He stood from the tub and drained it before making his way back to the bed, slipping under the covers to drift until woken by someone else.

Director’s cut chapter 7