#the bard would realistically give him the coffee and let him talk. BUT. it's so funny to choose (relative) violence instead | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rocketfool · 4 years ago

Note

fawks - 62, 64, 52, 40, 15 | kass - 8, 16, 36, 42, 66 "rainy that's ten questions" "yes :)"

putting these behind a read more to spare people who are not interested in all of this because whoops it got long!

FAWKS

62. Who does your character think is the most put together in the party?

THIS DEPENDS ON THE PARTY. of the main party, it’s definitely pierce. like sure he has some anxiety but he has not put goo in his mouth unprompted. so that pulls him ahead of fyn, who would be the second choice. of the surface party...probably valytra! like sure she collects souls in her necklace but she seems Polite and like she was a Pleasure to Have in Class, plus you have to have your shit together to be a spy (theoretically). kidar is...put together in that she’s extremely confident in who she is and assured of her own place in the world, but not the typical standard for “put together,” and fyn has put goo in her mouth, so. valytra wins.

64. What is one thing they want each party member to know?

I’m going to do main party, and out of character!

pierce: you’re so much braver and more heroic than you give yourself credit for. you deserve your place here just as much as anyone, and have personally inspired me to be a better person. but stop side eying me about scully I am WORKING on having a realization about this!! I’ll get there maybe!

jolene: we both put up such aggressive fronts to hide our vulnerabilities, but I’m discovering it is actually helpful to let people in and care for them, even if it makes you feel exposed. I hope you’re also coming to that realization and maybe one day (IN THE VERY DISTANT FUTURE) we’ll be more honest in our own friendship but for now lmao what is going on with blacksmith girl huh. I would like an update.

fyn: you’re the most optimistic and good-hearted person I know, and I hope you can see what an effect you have on the party. I’m very glad I’ve had you at my side for pursuing the black dragon wyrmspeaker, because I don’t know how I would’ve done it alone. also please stop putting goo in your mouth, we have enough money for quiche and lavender lemonade PLEASE.

52. If your character was under quarantine, what type of quarantine person would they be? (Productive? Hobbyist? Lazy?)

oh my god fawks in quarantine is off the rails immediately, she cannot be left unsupervised. I think she starts her own youtube channel that people LEGITIMATELY think is supposed to be like a ~found footage narrative fiction channel or other creative project but...it’s never been stated to be and she just keeps appearing in videos to talk very urgently about cryptids and show everyone how she’s converted her kitchen to include a PROPER, homemade fumigation hood. so it’s very unclear. on that note, the vlog probably comes to an end bc she either 1) blows up her kitchen with her own experiments because it is NOT a lab, or 2) breaks into someplace she shouldn’t be and isn’t caught but then uploads the footage to ye olde youtube and it’s like...okay so this is you running around fantasy area 51 right? knock it off.

40. Describe a corruption/redemption arc version of your character.

OKAY corruption arc fawks...like we all know fawks is very, very motivated by ~discovery and has a black and white way of thinking, she’s always poised on a precipice of discovering one powerful magic artifact that makes her risk it all LOL. she’s doing some character development in that area but I think there some very clear seeds of a corruption arc there--her connection to people (such as the party) is what keeps her on the...generally okay if not exactly the Right Path, so I think something awful befalling the party/people she loves where they are all killed would push her firmly into the dark side. I can see her getting lost in pursuing a way to “undo” whatever happened with time travel magic (wow like a certain tower we encountered) instead of reconciling it, and being willing to do whatever it takes to get her way. would prioritize herself and her mission above everything and everyone else, even if it threatens to rip the universe apart or results in killing people because she knows once she discovers this magic it will set things right, not just for her but its uses for the world at large...yeah it’d be bad. :/

REDEMPTION ARC is kind of what she’s on now. she’s discovering she has worth outside of what she produces for science/magic/etc! she’s figuring out she can open up to people and ask for help sometimes! she’s putting things right for her family! things are slowly coming up fawks...maybe.

15. Describe their ideal date.

OH BOY. fawks is not really uh...into traditional expressions of romance. like she’ll make an effort for the right person but her preference is never going to be a fancy dinner and candlelight. honestly I think the ideal date would start off in the late evening (AFTER A LONG DAY OF SCIENCE), going to a museum of curiosities or for cryptids/the arcane, where she’s allowed to really go in deep with her date on the history of various items/the theories behind everything and listen eagerly to what her date has to say too (in any world where fawks is dating, that person has to have Opinions on this type of thing). they’d stay until close and then head to a food truck to grab something to go while fawks leads the date to a rooftop of an abandoned building she likely discovered cryptid hunting but realized has an amazing view. they’d sit out under the stars and eat together, chatting inevitably about how fawks found the building, maybe do some exploring of it together. and then they head to a 24 hour diner for milkshakes as dessert!

KASS

8. What is something they cannot resist?

OOOH this is fun because there are a lot of ways to interpret the question. I think kass can never resist a bustling marketplace in whatever city he ends up in--he loves travel and finding out about the local culture, is always curious to see what’s for sale and what the gossip is about town from the merchants he meets there. he spent a lot of time in marketplaces growing up so they’re nostalgic for him--he also loves purchasing trinkets from them anytime he lands somewhere new, particularly if those trinkets are fancy scarves/boots/etc. foodwise, he’s a sucker for baklava and good red wine--he enjoys wine shops/bars over taverns because he’s bougie lmao. oh and if dancing is happening and he’s not the one playing the music, kass is involving himself as is his right as a bard. he can’t resist a good opportunity dance when he has the chance!

16. What keeps them going?

OH BOY a good question. I think kass is a realist in a lot of ways, but has held onto some amount of idealism. he keeps moving forward with the idea that he’s in a losing situation right now, but he’s patient enough to watch and see what way the winds will blow. he justifies his work with the understanding that he has a certain moral code for his behavior when he can make choices, versus when his hands are tied by the zhents. always is keeping one eye out for an opportunity to slip out of those binds completely.

36. What makes them blush?

HMMMM I don’t think kass gets too worked up over flirting--sometimes it’s literally just part of his job, and in general he’s just confident in himself. and listen he’s been in plenty of seedy taverns and courts rifled with intrigue, so not a lot makes kass bat an eyelash at this point. the things that would make him blush would probably be genuine romantic gestures? he doesn’t have a lot of experience with them so someone doing something very sweet and thoughtful for him would catch him completely off guard. like even getting flowers from the right person, kass is just not used to that type of attention!

42. Is there something your character isn’t very good at, but enjoys doing nonetheless?

kass would LOVE crossword puzzles I think. he’s been doing them since he was a kid and could filch a newspaper every once in a while, but he’s not super good at them. just enjoys having something to sit back and focus on while drinking his coffee in the mornings. I also don’t think he’s very good at cooking, but he enjoys trying out new recipes!

66. Outward Passion or Quiet Rebellion?

this is hard because I think kass feels pulled between the two very frequently. I think he’d much prefer outward passion, throwing himself heart first into a cause, but he definitely is more likely to commit quiet rebellion and does so frequently. like what the zhents don’t know won’t hurt...him. again, where he has the ability to, kass follows his own heart so he’s willing to work quietly to do some good. but he’d much prefer to be bolder, in the grand scheme of things.

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imnotcameraready · 5 years ago

Text

chivalry is dead (14)

A/N: HUZZAH!!!! WE’RE BACK IN BUSINESS BABEY !!! oh my god, it is Finals Season over here and my last one is this thursday. sorry this is coming out so late! it was a difficult chapter to write, plus it was being written between studying s o .,.,..,

speaking of! update in My Life is that i’ve been spending this past semester studying in a different country. immediately after my next final, i’m going home! but that means i’m also packing, and have a (long as FUCK) flight back home, and then i have to unpack and its going to be busy seeing all my family — this bad boy isn’t going on haitus or anything, but it might be more than a week until the next update! just giving y’all a heads up :’) after that, once i reestablish a Routine back home, then updates will resume at the usual 4–5 days between chapters aslkdghasldfxkh

sorry for the long authors note, and thanks ! <3

WARNINGS: panic, crying, threats, mentions of violence, thoughts of violence/fighting, sword mention, past violence, torture mention — tbh, idk what else is in here? please let me know if there's anything i've missed!

Words: 5577

AO3 link!

MASTERPOST! <– look here!! for the longterm warnings!! including sympathetic Deceit and cursing/swearing!

chivalry taglist: @starlightvirgil @forrestwyrm @daflangstlairde @marshmallow-the-panda @askthesnake @k9cat @patromlogil @theobsessor1

general tag: @jemthebookworm

hope you enjoy!!!

Remy was being uncharacteristically quiet. Patton and Deceit could tell it was unusual, given the Bard’s conversation prompts garnered single word answers. “Mhm,” “No,” or “Yeah.” When the Artist asked where they were going, Remy only said “Emile’s place.”

Something must have happened. But they couldn’t figure out what.

They were walking through another indoor alleyways, roofed by a walking bridge, when Remy turned left and opened a door. It seemed he knew the ins and outs of this town easily, despite how much more detailed it’d become. And, as Deceit had noted earlier, it HAD become more detailed. Through the door was a set of stairs and up the stairs was a small garden courtyard, with a pastel pink door at the end with a sign denoting it as “Dr. Emile Picani, PsyD.”

“That’s incredibly professional, all things considered,” Deceit gestured to the placard.

“Ah, I think it’s to mark the building as a doctor’s office,” the Playwright said, nose scrunching, “I’ve never seen that before, though.”

“You haven’t?”

“Not on Emile’s door, no. We should look into researching the laws surrounding doctors’ offices.”

“Research?” Patton asked, “Wait, what do you research for?”

“For creating, Patty-cake. We don’t just invent how much blood is in the human body, the different types of swords, how refrigerators work. That’s all research,” the Playwright seemed so pleased with himself.

“Yeah, like we’re any good at it,” in contrast, the Artist was more dejected. “We aren’t good at researching, using references, anything realistic. That’s….”

“We don’t have to research anything, if we just memorize it all! Or if we just make stuff up!” the Bard bumped hips with the Artist and summoned his ukulele again, strumming the first few chords to ‘Your Welcome’ before Remy put his hand on the instrument.

“Stop,” his voice was so serious, “Look, uh. It’s pretty bad.”

They formed in a semi-circle around him, Remy’s hand on the door. He pushed his sunglasses up and rubbed his forehead.

“Emile called me in the middle of giving midday naps, so I haven’t had coffee in a hot sec, so sorry. But, like, okay,” he fixed his glasses and shot everyone a look, turning slow to get the whole semi-circle. “Logan’s a lil’ spooked. Emile’ll explain what happened. Just don’t be loud, a’ight?”

The group shared looks at each other, mostly confused, though Patton gave them all his patton-ted Dad glare.

“Well,” Patton said, turning to Remy with a final determined grimace, “Alrighty. Open sesame?”

Remy opened the door cautiously, peeking in himself before opening it wider and allowing everyone else entrance.

The first room was a sitting room, themed similarly to how Emile’s office with multiple cartoon-themed posters. There were some couches and chairs around a larger coffee table, a few other coffee tables between the seating. An assortment of magazines and children’s books were displayed on the main coffee table. There was a reception area to the left, with a sign in sticker list and a computer behind a desk, but with no receptionist and no patients.

Just Emile and Logan sitting on the main couch. While Emile was sitting upright on the left, hands calmly folded in his lap, Logan was sitting very il-Logan-ly. Slouched tiredly into the opposite corner, glasses folded in the hand he was using to rub his own face, legs kicked out. Patton’s brow furrowed, inspecting Logan’s positioning. He could almost smell the grief radiating off of him.

Virgil, the Child, and the Thief were nowhere to be found.

Emile looked upon hearing the door’s hinge. He offered a tired smile and motioned to the seating. “Hey, everyone’s here,” his voice was quite soft, despite Deceit and Patton’s preconceived notions about him.

“Joy,” Logan sounded tired, almost defeated.

Once the initial shock wore off, Patton rushed to his side, setting a hand on his shoulder and sinking down to kneel beside him.. Logan flinched away, and Patton lifted both hands again immediately. “Sorry! Sorry, kiddo,” he bit his lip for a second, then continued, “What happened?”

Logan shifted two fingers, flicking one eye at Patton. It was bloodshot, with the surrounding eyelid puffy red. He examined Patton’s expression, with his cheeks puffed up and brow pinched together, and closed his eyes again. He couldn’t keep looking at Patton’s face, not when he’d nearly watched Roman — not Roman, the Thief, die. Nearly. And then he’d let Virgil and the Child both get kidnapped. Plus this headache, the same one from the previous night, was throbbing in the back of his skull, only exacerbated by his crying.

Good Lord, he’d been crying. Another thing to tick off the figurative “New Things” list.

“Do you want me to tell them?” Emile spoke slow and soft.

Logan shrugged. Someone had to, and it wasn’t going to be him. “Thief could explain,” Emile suggested, still treading lightly.

His crossed arms seized closer, and Emile winced. Jinkies. Shouldn’t have brought up the Thief.

“Oh, he’d better,” the Bard hissed, a muddled anger laced through his voice.

He yelped when the Artist elbowed him in the side, shooting him a dark glare. Emile looked between them and stood up. “Yeah, you’d all — well, maybe just the Romans? Deceit and Patton can stay out here, and we’ll tell them together. How’s that sound, Logan?”

He made a bit of a choked sound in trying to answer. He couldn’t stop thinking about how he’d just stood there.

“Kiddo?”

He was so useless.

“Logan, buddy, move your hands.”

“No,” he hissed.

“Breathe with me,” he heard Emile again, to his side, “I’ll count again, okay?”

This was pathetic. No wonder none of them listened to him. Dealing with plentitudes of positive emotions were hard, he couldn’t have imagined — oh, now was he imagining things?

These overly-abundant negative emotions were increasing such that he could feel a spike in his brain’s norepinephrine levels, which was silly in and of itself because he didn’t even have a physical brain for these hormones to spike within.

Patton tapped Logan’s elbow again, gently holding his forearms as Logan’s hand squeezed his face even tighter.

“Well, isn’t this dandy?” the Bard’s voice was a little too loud as he ran his hand through his hair, mussing it up before smoothing it back once more.” We broke Professor Glum. Where’s Thief?”

“Hey,” Patton said, shooting him a Dad glare. “Zip it, lock it, and put it in your pocket.”

The Playwright sank down beside Logan, on the opposite side of Patton. He hadn’t taken his eyes off of Logan since they entered.

The Bard backed up with a scoff. Clearly something was wrong! And Logan didn’t want to tell them! His stomach lurched with nervousness; they’d never seen Logan so rattled. If the Thief were here, he’d tell them what they did wrong. Plus, the Bard missed him, regretted their fight.

“Logan, dear, it’s okay,” the Playwright said, watching him shift uncomfortably, “How about Bard, Artist, and I go talk to Thief. It has been a dramatic few days and being reminded of my….of Roman’s fragmented state can’t be helpful in stabilizing you.”

“Ditto,” the Artist mumbled, still tugging at the strings of his hoodie from where he stood, just barely inside the doorway. The Bard nodded, too, eyes still pointed away.

Roman hated being so useless, and something in their chests told them that it was partly his fault.

Emile looked between each of them, then at Patton and Deceit. Remy must have left unannounced; that was okay. Emile would probably hunker down in his office after this to watch a movie. Maybe “Lilo and Stitch.” He needed something feel-good after this. Maybe some of the other characters would even join. That’d be nice.

What he NEEDED to do was diffuse the tension in here! Wouldn’t want them all stewing in this mystery for too long. Emile cleared his throat and stood up.

“How about we split up, gang? I’ll take the Romans all back to talk to Thief, and Deceit and Patton can stay here with Logan?” Emile looked up at Patton, then at Deceit, with a tiny smile waiting for verification.

Deceit met his look with a small nod. “I agree. It would be best for us to talk to Logan alone.”

“It’s been a long day,” the Artist voiced their collective thoughts, “We do need a breather.”

“That it has,” Logan said, clearing his throat and coughing a little. He lowered his hands into his lap and released a smidge of the tension in his shoulders, looking at Emile directly. “I….I agree with Dr. Picani. It would be more manageable to talk to fewer faces.”

“Well, then, alrighty,” Emile stood up, cracking his back as he did so, “Let’s blow this popsicle stand an’ head to Thief.”

He led the three Romans away, all of whom went quiet and guiltily. Patton and Deceit could hear Emile’s voice trailing off into gentle warnings about “he’s fine now, but just go easy on him, ‘cause it probably hurts, oh, what is ‘it,’ uh.”

Deceit waited until the door closed after them to let out an exhausted huff.

That’s what this was. Exhausting.

“C’mon, sit down,” Patton said, motioning to Logan’s other side on the couch, “Everyone else is gone. Think you can tell us what happened, teach?”

Logan exhaled. He could do that. It should be easy. Emphasis on should, because nothing about this, about reassembling Roman like a Lego set without instructions, was easy. Nothing about sword fighting was easy, either.

Still, a process of facts would be easier for Logan to convey, which he did. He explained how he and Virgil had chased the Child and the Thief into an alley, how they’d encountered the Dragon, and how there’d been a fight. How it ended with Virgil and the Child being taken by the Dragon.

He also added, almost as an afterthought or almost betraying how much he didn’t want to be thinking about it, that the Thief had gotten a 27.65 centimeter gash across his chest, 6.43 centimeters at its deepest and deep enough to cut through part of his bone. Patton looked like he was going to faint, face paling at the image, and Logan jumped in to clarify.

“It required magic to connect the bone back together, but it’s been handled thoroughly enough and Thief will heal fine. No vital organs were damaged, and he is currently laying on Dr. Picani’s other couch to regain the blood he lost,” he explained, now taking Patton’s hand into his own and squeezing. “He will heal fine.”

“I don’t doubt that, but, still….” Patton squeezed Logan’s hand, too, and then took his other. He held both of Logan’s hands in his own and pulled them close together, giving them small, reassuring squeezes. “I’m sorry you had to see that. It sounds horrible.”

Ah. Yes. Logan pursed his lips again and swallowed. No, he wouldn’t cry again. Not right now. “Thank you, Patton, but I’m handling this.”

Deceit cleared his throat, and the two looked up. He was scowling, eyes not distinctly watching anything, definitely not watching them, hair falling out of his hat again, definitely not distraught. It seemed that the bycocket fit worse than his bowler.

“Just to clarify,” he said, and they both could hear that he was holding some thoughts back, “Virgil and Child are with Dragon.”

Logan pressed his mouth into a tight line.

Of course Deceit would focus on that fact. He didn’t know what he had expected from Deceit. Sympathy? Unrealistic. This Imaginative excursion was turning him sentimental. Wanting things he would, should never receive.

“Yes,” he hated how tight his voice sounded.

Deceit nodded slowly. He was still trying to process Logan’s story, and how he appeared. Patton and Logan had been working together for a much longer time than himself; he had never seen Logan so distressed. The typical emotionless facade was gone. It was unnerving, almost. Like, he knew that the whole “emotionless” thing was a big lie but seeing the lie revealed was very different from just hoping.

He wanted to lean down, kneel down. Use his gloves to wipe away the logical side’s tears. Promise that everything would be okay. That they would retrieve Virgil and Roman and that all would be well.

Woah, there, Deceit. One lie at a time, or you’re going to start tripping over yourself. You know you aren’t allowed to do that.

Patton, however, drew Logan’s attention once more, tapping him on the arm. He held his arms out in front of Logan’s chest, as an offer.

“Hey, kiddo,” he said, voice soft, “Can I hug you?”

Logan blinked, slow. He wasn’t much for hugging, but physical comforting would probably aid him in lowering his pulse. And….Patton. After a long pause, Logan said “Yes.”

He leaned back on the couch, letting out a slow exhale and closing his eyes, letting Patton wrap his arms around his shoulders. If only he could sleep. That would benefit him greatly. They should have asked Remy to knock him unconscious before he left. He was less overwhelmed and more exhausted by the adrenaline and intense emotions he’d been wracked with. He began counting beats in his head, using Virgil’s breathing technique to slow his own oxygen intake.

Patton let Logan snuggle into his shoulder, trying to exude as much positivity as he could. This whole situation was like a swirling toilet flush, all his prior excitement about entering the Imagination going down the drain. He just wanted to make sure Logan was alright.

That all of them were gonna get out of this alright.

“You know, I kinda wish we had a different first quest into the Imagination. This’ all a lot more, er,” what was the right word? “High-stakes. Than I’d’ve wanted it to be.” That wasn’t the right right word, but it was close enough.

He was worried that pointing out the seriousness of the quest would garner some sort of negative reaction, but Logan just nodded. In truth, they were all in agreement. It would have been easier to understand Roman had they understood the Imagination more, or if he’d just communicated how he felt.

But well, Deceit was the only one bitterly remembering that none of them were adept at swallowing their pride. Including himself.

“It’s too serious,” Patton continued, “I don’t want anyone getting hurt in here.”

“People have already been hurt, Patton,” Logan reminded him, voice lacking any bite.

And people would always be hurt, and there had to be something Deceit could do about that. The “best” thing to do would be to wait for the night. But what if something happened between now and then? Deceit couldn’t get the image that the Thief had described out of his mind.

What would happen? Would the Dragon really dismember — he couldn’t think of that. No, Deceit had to protect them.

It was a matter of pure self-preservation. That’s all.

Without warning, Deceit stood up, causing Logan and Patton to jump. He strode to the door and exited.

Logan and Patton watched the door for a few seconds before realizing what had happened. Logan was the first one up, Deceit’s name halfway off his lips as he swung open the door. “Where are you going?” he asked, following.

“To get Virgil. Simple,” it was really not simple, not in the slightest.

“That….is a horrible idea. Nor is it simple,” Logan wanted to scream, because he frankly regarded Deceit as one of his more coherent cohorts, less eccentric than Roman or Patton and more cohesive than Virgil. But this is a level of sacrificial that he didn’t anticipate the typically cautious and selfish Side could reach.

And, still, Deceit continued walking. He stopped at the top of the stairwell and took a deep breath.

“It is a simple idea. I’m going to be in and out, and,” if he didn’t confuse Logan further then he’d probably follow, and Deceit wouldn’t dare put any more of his... “If I die, I die.”

Logan spluttered. That didn’t make any sense.

Deceit tried to escape, but was suddenly caught up in a pair of arms. Patton hugged him tight, pulling him back from the stairs. Less restraining him and more hugging him stationarily.

“Dee,” his voice was more desperate, “You can’t just go—”

“No one else seems to be acting with any urgency!” Deceit didn’t struggle in the hug, he didn’t want to hurt Patton or anything, but it was quite the annoyance. “Don’t you both understand? We’ve been thoroughly warned that Dragon is dangerous, and now we’re just going to leave Virgil with them to get tortured?”

Maybe the Dragon wouldn’t hurt Virgil, but Deceit wasn’t going to leave that to chance. His carelessness had led to Roman being literally shattered by insecurity as well.

Gosh, he had really failed them.

No, not failed. He hadn’t failed. Deceit didn’t fail, it wasn’t a thing he was allowed to do. He was simply going through a difficult disguise.

And now he was going to make things better, and then he was going to slink back into the dark corners of Thomas’ mind where he so thrived, would go back to watching the other Sides with a yearning he chose to ignore.

“Of COURSE we do not want Virgil to be hurt,” Logan’s voice wasn’t offended, definitely not, not the least bit hurt by Deceit’s assumption, “But we cannot enter without a plan, either, and you cannot traverse the Imagination alone!”

“I can and I will, let go of me,” the second part was directed back at Patton as Deceit lowered a hand onto his arms and shoved.

His grip was iron, though. The thoughts racing through Patton’s mind were like darts, trying to figure out the perfect bullseye explanation of what was nagging at his mind. Because, before they came into the Imagination, everything was a little more carefree. A little different. Oh, what was that?

“No. I–I, oh, hang on,” he grumbled into Deceit’s shoulder, holding him down and trying to word his emotions. Patton’s emotions, everyone’s emotions. Everyone was a little less wound up outside. But in here, it felt like everything was almost too dramatic! Between all the screaming and yelling, and all the swear words, goodness he stopped keeping track for the swear jar because there were so many. Like, 60 so far.

That was definitely bending the morals Patton liked upholding, of keeping things PG-13 and kid-friendly. What was wrong with him? What was wrong with all of THEM?

“Patton,” Deceit’s voice grumbled, bringing him back from his thoughts. “Are you planning to elaborate? Because, if not, then let me go.”

He sure was! If he could figure out how to make words work.

Patton made a drawn-out “eh” sound, waving his hands back and forth as he tried to word it. “I think — and Logan can DEFINITELY back me up on this — it’s safer, is more logical, hurts less people, will hurt you less, will make me not cry, will make Virgil not angry, will make, uh….” he counted in his head, frowning against Deceit’s back, “Will make five out of seven Romans happier, if you wait for all of us to make a plan together.”

Logan hummed in approval with Patton’s statement, and Deceit squinted at them both

He couldn’t deny that Patton had a point. As the anger wore off, it was replaced with a frozen pit in Deceit’s stomach, chilling him to the bones with worry and a vague understanding. He wasn’t usually this worried.

Perhaps it was due to Virgil’s absence. Virgil was the mediator of their worries.

Or maybe it was something else.

But even if it were something else, Deceit didn’t want to risk Virgil getting hurt. It wasn’t as though Virgil had never been hurt before. Deceit wasn’t malicious, but he certainly wasn’t doctile, and neither were either of the other concealed Sides. There were reasons he had to keep the veiled, after all. None of them were walks in the park.

But this was a true villain, without the inhibitions of keeping Thomas running, in a world Roman had created to hurt himself.

….Deceit’s arms felt a little tingly in Patton’s grip. Was that typical of hugs? He had felt a little sore after the Bard that morning, too, but had chalked that up to it being an unusually long hug.

You know, maybe hugs just weren’t his thing. It didn’t have anything to do with him not being hugged enough. And he wasn’t going to indulge that thought further. He wasn’t going to indulge himself.

“I think,” Patton’s voice cut into Deceit’s thought process again, softer now than earlier, “We’re all in a bad mindset.”

“Clearly. These circumstances are nothing like nothing within the reality that Thomas would have to face, and are nothing I have ever prepared for,” Logan responded, voice more level.

“....You’re just gonna say that?” Patton sounded incredulous.

Deceit scowled, looking down from them, up at the walls, as Logan clarified that he was thoroughly prepared for every possible real-world scenario but wasn’t prepared for the “imaginative nonsense” that Roman’s world wrought.

Patton was right, Deceit realized, far too right. They were simply in a bad mindspace.

“I don’t want to pursue Virgil alone, but I refuse to let him stay with Dragon for any longer,” he stated, cutting off whatever tirade Logan had continued onto. “Patton, can you let go? I won’t run.”

Both of them blinked at him, and Patton slowly released his extended hug. They had been serious, earlier, about accompanying him. But the more Logan considered the consequences of splitting up the team, the more he was wary.

“I don’t think it would be wise for any of us to go without formulating a plan,” he said, holding a hand out to Deceit.

“Well, I’m not just leaving him. I can’t,” and Deceit then raised a hand to his own mouth, cursing himself behind his hand.

Master of secrecy he was. Hopefully the other two wouldn’t—

“What do you mean, can’t.” Oof.

Deceit exhaled, shaking out his hand as he drew it away from his face, thinking of a cover-story. One came quick enough. “Wouldn’t it be dreadful if Thomas’ Anxiety was killed by his Ego?”

That would throw off the scent and puts the situation in a different light. But it just made Deceit feel worse.

It was stupid. He should have been consoling the others. HE didn’t need it.

Patton and Logan shared a glance. They both didn’t want Virgil to be hurt — alright, let’s stop beating around the bush here, they both love Virgil. Patton says it about ten times a day, and he’d swear off cookies if he were wrong about Logan loving Virgil, too! And they love Thomas. They don’t want Virgil getting hurt already, but they also don’t want Thomas getting hurt.

Logan nodded slightly toward Deceit, one of his eyebrows twitching up barely.

It was a subtle expression, much too subtle for Patton to interpret, but he could definitely tell that Logan was asking something. Patton just shrugged.

That didn’t seem to matter, as Logan nodded curtly and looked up to Deceit with a steady expression.

“Yes, but even you must admit that there are no preservation benefits to you going to rescue him alone. Plus, if we are staging a rescue, we should aim to retrieve Child and Damsel as well.”

“I–” he had forgotten that there were two others trapped. Now he was sheepish. A foolish oversight. “You’re right. We should. All the more reasons to go now.”

Logan shook his head. “You might have a sword, but Patton and I are unarmed and likely would not fight.”

“Oh, well, um, teach?” Logan and Deceit both looked at Patton, who was grinning sheepishly, “Sorry, but your Pop’s ready to pop off on Dragon. He’s been pretty bad, and bad Sides get grounded.”

Deceit snorted, but pressed his lips together harshly. The concept of Patton grounding someone, figuratively and literally, was ridiculous.

Though he would pay real money to see the moral side knock someone out.

Oh gosh, that was an actual possibility in the Imagination. Deceit might be granted the opportunity of watching Patton kick the daylights out of someone. That pleased him way more than he’d like to admit.

Meanwhile, Logan just frowned. “Excuse me, you are going to unleash a confetti popper on Dragon? Why would you use a celebratory cracker as a weapon, in a world where weapons are readily available to us?”

Now it was Patton’s turn to facepalm himself, rubbing his own forehead. “Ah, sorry! Pop off’s another one of those modern slang terms the kids’re using these days, maybe a good one for the notecards?”

Logan nodded, conjuring his set of notecards and taking notes as Patton explained. “It’s when you’ve got a lot of stuff bottled up inside of you, usually some kinda anger, and then something upsets you enough for that figurative bottle to open. Like a cap popping off? I think that’s the entropy.”

“The….etymology?”

“The entomology!”

“Getting closer. Etymology.”

Patton grinned a little and shrugged again. “That.”

“I see,” Logan fixed his glasses, “Also, to ‘pop off’ can also be defined as engaging in a physical altercation?”

“In some cases!”

“Mmm.”

Logan slipped the notecards away again and clapped once. “Well. Thank you for that, Patton,” he turned to Deceit, who’d been watching and listening with a vacantly fond expression, and motioned to him with both of his hands, “Returning to the original subject matter, Patton and I are still unarmed, and would not be of service while you storm a literal castle. If we want to guarantee Virgil, Child, and Damsel’s safety, then we need to outline a plan.”

“Oh, so just because you took a little vocabulary learning break, we’re ignoring the high-stakes of everyone being in peril?” Deceit asked, fixing his hat and forcing himself back into a scowl, “You’ve got no sense of urgency and we can’t have that out in a duel.”

“Do you?” Logan crossed his arms. This debate was actually helping him feel better about their future prospects. “Having a sense of urgency is Virgil’s job. Ours, together, is to concoct a longer but more cohesive plan.”

Logan’s voice is, as always, too level. He’s much too aware for his own good, Deceit thought, and his own frustration returned tenfold.

“Virgil isn’t here to do that job, so I’m taking it up!” he gestured to himself with his thumb, but stopped midway through the motion. He’s just as flippant and it’s proving Logan’s point. Slowly, he drew his hands back to his chest and exhaled sharply, saying with fervor “We must get him back.”

Patton’s head turns back to Logan when he lets out his own frustrated exhalation. There was something here. He was on to something, but Patton just couldn’t figure out the pieces. Meanwhile, Logan and Deceit’s argument continued before him.

“If you’re so concerned about preserving all of us, as a group, for the betterment of Thomas, then why are you going to such lengths to put yourself in a position of unsafety to save another Side? I don’t understand.”

“Because we can’t let him get hurt, isn’t that obvious?”

“I agree, but I want to hear your explanation. Why not?” Logan asked.

It was a simple question, but it struck a chord much deeper in Deceit than it should have. It almost made him feel ashamed at how angry he was.

He HADN’T failed.

“I’ll die before I let Virgil be hurt again,” his voice came out as more hiss than enunciation. “Any of you.”

Deceit’s declaration hung in the air for a second before he realized what he said. You could almost pinpoint the moment he realized he’d said too much, as he turned back around to the stairs, if only to face away from the pair.

“Oh?”

Please, please don’t bring it up. Deceit considered possible alternative stories. Some kind of lie about the other Dark Sides, perhaps? Logan and Patton weren’t as familiar with them as he was, he could definitely make something up about how they interacted, something about their hostility.

“Deceit?”

“Deceit,” one of them grabbed his arm, likely Patton, “Hey, kiddo, you’re okay.”

Curse his pride. Deceit wanted to tear his arm out of whoever was holding him’s grip because the burning indignity of his confession was making the weird feeling return in full force.

He wanted to grip his cloak and hide his hands again, so they couldn’t see them shake. Why were his hands shaking, anyway? He didn’t have anything to hide. Why would he hide?

Patton swallowed. ‘Any’ of you. Deceit was an actor, same as Roman, so Patton always had a hard time figuring out what to make of him. So this was a hunch. Just a hunch.

Just a hunch and a little hope.

“I don’t,” he looked at Logan, who was frowning at Deceit as one would an unsolvable puzzle, “I don’t understand.”

That was okay. “It’s a hard thing to understand,” Patton found himself responding, grin growing, “Love’s a queer thing.”

Deceit groaned. Logan rolled his eyes, though his cheeks tinged pink. None of the tension was lifted.

“That’s absurd,” he murmured, talking about the pun.

“Is it?” Patton whispered, talking about something more.

That drew both of their attentions back to him, with confused, expressions wrapped in a special kind of denial.

Was he strong enough to admit it? It was funny, in the same way that adultery or the puppets were, because Patton wasn’t known for admitting things.

Baby steps. He couldn’t scare himself or either of the other two away.

“Deceit,” he said, looking at the other with a firm expression as Deceit turned over his shoulder, “Once we’re, uh, out of the Imagination….d’ya think it’d be okay if we moved your bedroom to the Mind Palace? With the rest of us?”

Forward, but careful. Deceit blinked, leaning back only a little, only in surprise.

How tender a way for Patton to invite him into their lives.

He stepped back around, expression guarded.

Logan looked up from Patton to Deceit, less guarded and more stepping back. This was curious indeed. That tightness in his chest returned. He didn’t quite understand what Patton’s offer meant — of course, it would be beneficial for Deceit to have a room in their Mind Palace, so he could be central in conversations if he was choosing to become more prevalent in Thomas’ decisionmaking. There must have been another reason behind it, however, because his pulse was quickening once more. His fists closed at his sides and he could feel how sweaty his palms were. Was he nervous? For what?

You know what, maybe Logan was just allergic to the Imagination. That’s why his hormones were being regularly imbalanced and causing visceral physical reactions to emotional stimuli.

Patton smiled a tiny bit more, and offered his hand to Deceit. “I think,” he started again, gentle as ever, “Roman would take it personally if we left without him. ‘Cause he’s worried about Virgil, too.”

Deceit looked at his hand, then up at Patton.

Inclusion. Teamwork, like he’d preached earlier.

He wasn’t ready to admit what he truly wanted. Deceit wasn’t personally selfish. But he could….he would allow himself to indulge in the thought of wanting to be wanted.

He took Patton’s hand, and Patton pulled him a little closer.

“Fine.”

Patton smiled.

“Hey!” the trio turned back to the door to see the Artist poking his head out, “Where’re you guys going?”

“Nowhere!” Patton chirped back, waving his other hand, “We just wanted some fresh air!”

Logan and Deceit shared another look. It was best to keep this agreement to themselves, for now. They wouldn’t want to overwhelm any of the others.

“Okay, uh. Well,” the Artist jogged out to join them.

His hood was pulled over his head, tugged into a small opening where only his face was visible. He looked around at Patton, then Deceit, then Logan, and nudged Logan slightly with his elbow. “I never got to say, um. I’m sorry. For getting mad at you this morning.”

That felt like so long ago, and so much had happened since then, Logan had almost forgotten that it was all the same day. He nodded slowly. “Of course. While it was an unconventional and fairly belligerent method of relaying your discomfort, I understand why you reacted in such a way.”

He opened his mouth to continue, but then closed it again and clenched his jaw tight as the headache came back once more. What WAS that? Logan waited for it to dull back once more before continuing, “I will avoid making similar observations in the future.”

“Uh, thanks,” the Artist watched him with worry for a few seconds before looking around the trio again and stuffing his hands further into his pockets, “Should we go inside? We need to outline what we’re gonna do.”

“Awh, outline? ‘Cause you’re an artist?” Patton asked, his usual cheeky grin returning, “I’m proud of that one!”

The Artist rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, whatever, Pop Rocks. Let’s just get inside. Bard and Thief miss you guys.”

He turned away, leading them back to normalcy with a slight new understanding of each other.

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