#the following panels have the same stylized speech bubbles.

[diamondnokouzai]

image: a comic panel of a brown-skinned bearded man wearing a turban. his speech bubble is written in a font stylized to "resemble" arabic, reading "fall back! fall back to the cave!". end description.

fuck the hell off

[itsmeizumine]

COMMS ARE OPEN!

[ID: a 6 panels presentation explaining how OP’s commissions are going to pan out. First panel has scripts divided in two columns. The first column says “Hello, fellows! It’s me, Izumine, and right now I’m taking digital art commissions! I really need to buy new PC and I would be extremely glad if you spread word of this commissions for me. Thank you so much!”. The second column says that payment is to happen via Nubank Pix system and OP’s other social medias’ handle; “itsmeizumine” on Instagram, Twitter, Tumblr and YouTube. From the second panel onward, OP’s gonna showcase the types of commission they are willing to take.]

[ID: Second panel is titled “Silly Doodles”. There are three drawings on the panel, all of them very simple and cartoonish. The first drawing is of a kid reenacting “Will Smith Showing Off His Wife” meme, with a speech bubble that says “Bitch, I love and appreciate you” stylized to add comedic effect. The second is of someone grimacing, with “OUCH...” written behind them. The third drawing is of a surprised person, with a speech bubble that says “*GASP* what- NO WAY!!”. There’s a script at the bottom right that says “Silly doodles are fun to draw and use, specially as stickers! They are the quickest to make, and cost 5 USD*.”. The asteristiks are going to be addressed on the 6th panel.]

[ID: Third panel is titled “My Style” and has a column of script right under it that says “I don’t face much trouble with either headshots or full body, but I don’t dig rendering a lot, so my price table is this: a) SKETCH: 10 USD. b) FLAT COLORS: 15 USD**. c) RENDERED: 20 USD**.”. By the side of this column, there are three versions of the portrait of a boy, showing the different finalizations the price table announced going from the simplest (option a) to the most difficult (option c), left-right. At the bottom left of the panel, there’s a script in parentheses that says “This is good to make portraits of loved ones!”.]

[ID: Forth panel is titled “Mimicking”. Under the title, a column of script says “I can imitate your favorite show’ style on a drawing of your OC! I’m particularly good at: BNHA, SvtFoE, The Loud House and Adventure Time. But I can give a shot to any other ones!”. There are four drawings of original characters to the left of the column, each into the styles of the shows OP mentioned. A serious girl using Yuuei’s uniform and sneakers; a boy dressed as a prince from other dimension dancing with a girl in a poncho blouse and pleated skirt, both seemingly in love with each other; a kid wearing a vest, a long-sleeved blouse, pants and boots, expectantly looking to the forth wall; and a fire monk in their casual garb, content; respectfully. In the midst of the drawings there’s a box that says the price is 15 USD**.]

[ID: Fifth panel is titled “Landscapes”. There are two big drawings. The one at the left shows a empty main avenue prepared to start a community fair. The day is sunny and there are little flags and lace tinsels hanging from building to building as there are flower garlands and wreaths decorating the shopfronts. The floor is made up from packed dirt and cobblestone and there has a kiss booth and a roasted chicken stand at the edge of the street. The drawing on the right is the WIP of a staffroom from a mechanic workshop. There are two different levels at the same room. In the lowest there’s a small kitchenette with lights hanging from a support beam made out of steel and a sofa with a remote control atop of it. In the highest, the ground has the same metal texture of a bus’ floor; there’s a ladder, four tires piled together with plants around them and a shelving unit attached to the entryway. There’s a box that says the price for the art pieces is 25 USD**.]

[ID: Sixth panel is titled "Yes, can do/ No, can't do". The text that follows right after is divided in two columns, each column under one segment of the title. The column under the first segment lists Lettering, NSFW art (though, OP says it's debatable) and Mecha/Armor as things they can also do. The column under the last segment lists Gore (OP clarifying that they can work with blood, but nothing more explicit than that), Hate Material and Animals (and by extension, Furries) as things they can't do. Under these columns there's a box that explains the asterisks. It says "Single asterisk: In case USD is not your currency, we'll follow the procedure of converting the values using it as reference. Double asterisks: This is a minimum price. Might be upped depending on the complexity of your commission, but don't worry! We'll discuss it before settling on anything. And! We'll only start negotiations if you read and agree with my Terms of Service, so that's that as well.". This is all there is to the last panel, and with that the presentation ends.]

(TERMS OF SERVICE BELOW, READ IT ATTENTIVELY)

if DM me about any commission you're interested to do i'll assume you've read everything and are 100% okay with it, so don't even try if you're aren't. this is not up to debate.

.

there's stuff worthy of taking notice before asking a commission from me:

.

i need my commissioner to be somewhat available for communication. i'm gonna share my process with you and i need your feedback during it to go on. any sort of adjustment gotta happen there, as i'm not returning to the finished piece to retouch it on any way or form nor do i allow anyone to make any changes to my artwork.

.

i'm not delivering the finished piece until you fully pay me. no debate on that. and i reserve the right to cancel and refund any commissions at any time for any reason.

.

unless you oppose to it during the process, there's a chance that i might use the commissioned artwork on my social medias as a way to promote me and my services. if that bothers you or makes you uncomfortable, you gotta tell me.

.

you retain all rights over the intellectual property of the commissioned piece and i assure you i won't make any claims over it, but the artwork is mine nonetheless. it's for personal use ONLY until stated otherwise, and you CANNOT profit from it or use it commercially unless we discuss it beforehand.

.

i won't make you NSFW art if you're under age, for obvious reasons. any minors asking for commissions of any other kind need have permission from their legal guardian, unless they have their own bank account.

.

if you want to eventually print the artwork, please state this before we get started on the commission. my default set-up is made for small files that are going to pixelate once you size them up to make, say, a poster. it's going to reflect badly on the end result of my work and i can make it right from the start if only you warn me first.

.

and i won't lower the price of any commissions below where they are now. the prices are as accessible as they can be. i'll work hard on each and every piece ever commissioned and and i need money like any other person too, respect me and my work.

.

i’d like thank anyone commissioning, reblogging or sharing the link of this post with possible future commissioners right now. hopefully i’ll be able to buy a new computer and make even better art to share with you guys soon!!

[ayellowbirds]

33 Usher Street chapter one script, First Draft

I’m planning to go back and do a major revision on this, but i wanted to share what i have for the time being! This was part of last years NaNoWriMo project, about Jewish (and otherwise) vampire hunters in an alternate history 1920s, including a transgender golem and an intersex dhampir as the joint protagonists.

What follows is an unfinished draft of a comic script intended for my own reference as the artist. Some art directions are absent, intended to be filled in later; or reflected a lack of a particular concern about how the panel looked.

Questions and comments are welcome! I’d love to get some other folks’ ideas about what needs changing. Please excuse any formatting issues! This didn’t copy-paste so well.

Italics outside of quotation marks indicate art directions and page layout.

[Square brackets] indicate sound effects (SFX), signage, captions, or other non-bubbled matters of lettering.

“Quotation marks” indicate speech bubbles.

1. Three panel page.

1.1. Full-width view of a bus (reference 1920s buses) puttering along beneath and above autumn leaves.

[CAPTION: September 24, 1923]

1.2. A thick black full-width border. Repeated on the following pages at full-width size, same height, to be indicated as BORDER

[BORDER: SFX: Bus engine chugging]

1.3. Interior of bus. Driver, assorted passengers, and towards the rear, SOLOMON “SOL” SZOMBATHY. He is a slight young man in a jacket and oversized “Oxford bags”,. His hair is thick, black, and curly (3B type); his features Ashkenazic but on the darker side. He holds a plain-looking wooden cane. Behind him, occupying the last row of seats, is a long, coffin-like box or chest, sealed with rope or cord.

2. Six panels.

2.1. A close-up of Solomon. He seems lost in thought, leaning against the bus window.

2.2. [BORDER: SFX: THUMP!]

2.3. The bus bumps, Sol is jolted upwards.

2.4. Sol settles, squeans emanating. 

2.5 Sol looks out the window.

2.6 Exterior, the wooded roadside. A sign reads: [WELCOME TO Jackson, Mass. EST. 1842]. Perhaps the bus is visible here, chugging past the sign.

3. Six panels.

3.1. The bus stop. Perhaps a sign indicating that’s what it is. The bus has stopped.

Driver: “JaaaAAACKson station!”

3.2. A tail extends from the speech bubble from the previous panel, to overlay the BORDER. Driver: “Last stop!”

3.3. Passengers exiting the bus. Sol is lifting the box.

3.4. Same as 3.3, with more movement ahead of Sol. He is pulling the box, struggling. 

3.5. Same as 3.3, the bus now empty of other passengers. The driver is standing, impatiently watching Sol. Sol is half-way down the aisle, perspiring with effort.

3.6. Same as 3.3, Sol finally exiting the bus, with his box.

Driver: “That everything?”

4. Two panels

4.1. Sol, wiping sweat with a kerchief.

SOL: “Yes, thank you. And—”

4.2. As in 3.2, a tail extends from the previous bubble into the BORDER, which fades from black to white.

SOL, stylized as the chapter title : “Can You Tell Me The Way To Usher Street?”

[Credits:

A 33 Usher Street story

Written and Illustrated by K.P.S. Roman Religious Consultation by Quell Nessuno]

5. Six panels. Wide, double, double, border.

5.1. Sol, walking along a Jackson street, dragging the box behind him on wheels and hoisting his cane over his shoulder. The city is sparsely populated in spite of its size; apartment buildings and businesses line the streets, but there are few people visible. The buildings have the sagging, unsettled look of those built on swampland.

5.2. More of Sol, rounding a corner and excusing himself past some locals, including ADRIAEN TEN BOOM, a stogie between his lips.

Sol: “Pardon me!”

5.3. Sol, looking up at a street sign for the corner of [MARSH ST] and [WASHINGTON ST]. A car putters past. WILHEMINA FAWKES is in the driver’s seat.

5.4. Sol continues past some kids playing marbles. He’s starting to visibly sweat. An older black man [ALEISTER JONES] watches the game from a stoop, his gloved hand resting on his cheek.

5.5. Sol, stopping at another corner. A conspicuously incognito figure [CONSTANCE WRIGHT] watches from behind a newspaper. A sledgehammer leans against her side.

Sol: “Ah!”

5.6. BORDER, Sol’s speech bubble extends from 5.5.

Sol: “Here we are!”

6. 

6.1. The sign for the corner of [WASHINGTON ST] and [USHER ST]

6.2. Sol moves a bit more speedily down the street, indicated by hites. PLUTON, a large black cat with only one eye watches.

6.3. Sol, pulling a piece of paper from his pocket, exhaling a panting puff. Pluton is visible following behind at a distance.

Sol: “Let’s see…”

6.4. Sol looks up at the numbers of the buildings. He passes the unremarkable numbers twenty-one and twenty-three. Pluton cocks his head.

6.5. BORDER. Sol’s speech bubble tails from 6.3. 

Sol: “Number... Thirty-Three?”

6.6. Sol stops before a row of thorny bushes. The speech bubble trails from 6.5. Pluton is posed as if looking around the tail of the speech bubble, to see Sol.

Sol: “Oh!”

7. 

7.1. Sol, standing before 33 Usher Street. The building is assembled from a mix of newer construction and old ruins with the masonry at diagonals to each other, as if someone happened upon the leaning remains of a graystone castle and chose to join it together in red brick. The 33 is quite large and visible on the exterior of the building, and a less-legible sign hangs beneath it.

7.2: BORDER, a caption (Sol): “There it is.”

8.

8.1. A close-up of the sign beneath the 33 from 7.1. It now more clearly reads: [USHER STREET HOUSE OF ANTIQUITIES AND CURIOS]

8.2. BORDER. A speech bubble trails down to 8.3.

Sol: “That wasn’t... so hard to find... after all.”

8.3. Sol walks up the path, while Pluton, indicated by tracing lines, bounds up into the building out of Sol’s view and onto a windowsill. He has set down the box.

9.

9.1. Pluton, pausing at an open window, looks out imperiously at the approaching Sol. 

9.2. Interior of the room from 9.1. A view from the back of JAMES “JIM” CULLOCK III. The room is full of talismans, wards, and assorted scraps of paper framed upon the walls.

Jim: “Yes, that would be him.”

9.3. A hand [that of MARIE BOSLEY] sets a Victrola to play.

Marie: “I’ll leave the interview to you, then.”

9.4. A partial view. Pluton bounds down into the room. Enough of Marie is visible that she can be seen cranking the Victrola. Jim appears to be fussing at something invisible on his sleeve.

Jim: “If you’re certain.”

9.5. [BORDER: SFX: the opening lyrics of Marion Harris’s “After You’re Gone”]

9.6. Jim’s feet descending the stairs.

10.

10.1. Deliberate parallel to 9.6. Sol coming up to the front door. The lyrics of the music continue from 9.5, and there on until otherwise indicated.

10.2. Sol’s hand raised, to the door, there is a simple bronze door knocker.

 10.3. [BORDER: SFX: KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.]

10.4. Sol waits at the door.

10.5. Same framing as 10.4; Sol looks back at the box.

10.6. Sol looks back at the door, anxious, patting his head with his kerchief. 

11.

11.1. The door swings open. Inside stands Jim. A tall, older white man with the slender yet solid look of a longtime dancer or a runner, clad in two parts of a mismatched three-piece suit: striped trousers under a diamond-patterned vest, with bow tie. His hair is close-cropped, styled fashionably, and streaked with gray.

Jim: “Good afternoon...”

11.2. BORDER. A trailing tail from Jim’s line in 11.1.

Jim: “...young man.”

11.3. Sol holds out a crumpled envelope.

Sol: “The Rev. Dr. Hammer sent me, sir?”

11.4. Jim takes the letter in his left hand.

11.5. Jim looks at the letter.

11.6. Jim tosses the letter over his shoulder, smiling.

Jim: “James Cullock III, son.”

12.

12.1. Jim, extending his right hand to shake.

Jim: “But, call me Jim.”

12.2. Sol, returning the handshake.

Sol: “Sir, my name’s Solomon.” 

12.3. BORDER. 

Jim: “Mr. Grundy, then?”

12.4. Sol looks tired of this joke already.

Sol: “No, sir. I was born on a Saturday.”

12.5. Jim laughs

Jim: “You’re the right one, alright!”

12.6. Jim motions Solomon in.

Jim: “Come in, Mr. Szombathy, and have a seat.”

13. Three panels, the top full-width but narrow, as is the border: the main action is 13.2.

13.1. The foyer of 33 Usher St. The room is set up for greeting visitors and entertaining, and Sol is already seated opposite Jim. 

13.2. Full view of Solomon, seated and without his coat. He is wearing a tight-fitting sweater, giving him the silhouette of a paintbrush when paired with his trousers.

NOTE: Use the antiquated “Rumania” spelling whenever it appears on the page.

[CAPTION: Solomon “Sol” Szombathy Age: 20

Born: 10/31/1903

Hometown: Pittsburgh, Vandalia

Background: Hungarian/Rumanian Jewish, First Generation American

Likes: Science Fiction & Fantasy Magazines, spicy foods, cooking. 

Dislikes: Running, swimming, high noon.]

13.3. BORDER. 

Jim: “So, Solomon Szombathy. I understand from my old friend Matteus—he wired me here before you arrived—that you have had quite a remarkable encounter, of late.”

14. Reversal of 13.

14.1. BORDER.

Sol: “Just so, sir. I am told it is within your area of expertise?”

14.2. Full view of James, seated and with his legs crossed.

[CAPTION: James “Jim” Cullock III

Age: 56

Born: 2/18/1867

Hometown: Roan Mountain, Nickajack.

Background: Scottish-American

Hobbies: Gardening, Morning Constitutionals

Profession: Antiques, Estate Management, ???]

Jim: “By which you mean…”

14.3. Pluton enters the room.

Pluton: “Miaou.”

15.

15.1. Sol watches as Pluton approaches.

Sol: “Vampires, sir. A vampire. Just the one.”

15.2. Pluton inspects Sol, who is now focused on Jim.

Jim: “You have no need to worry about being doubted on that subject here, Mr. Szombathy.”

15.3. BORDER.

Sol: “Ah, yes. Dr. Hammer told me that you are in the business of…?”

15.4.

Jim: “Formally, the Usher Street House of Antiques and Curios is in the business of the management of estates belonging to those who passed without clearly defined wills, or without leaving behind heirs to manage their estates.”

15.5. Pluton approaches Jim.

Jim: “Informally, better say genuinely, we are in the business of public health. To deal with the threat of vampires to the general public.”

16.

16.1. Pluton settles down at Jim’s feet.

Jim: “Tell me, what are your opinions on the morality and ethics of vampirism?”

16.2

Sol: “Well, in my father’s collection, there was a commentary on the Sefer Hasidim, which says that a person who must consume the blood of another human being… should be pitied, for it is in her nature and her needs to survive, and if she should make recompense to her victim, should be treated with compassion as a member of the community.”

16.3 BORDER

Sol: “But that’s regarding a living vampire, what some call an estrie, and the exceptions made for one who must violate kashrus for the sake of pikuach nefesh. And Eleazar Rokeach said that one should stop up the mouth of a deceased estrie, to prevent her from feasting on the living, after death.”

16.4

Sol: “From a strictly Halakhic standing, it is permissible for the living to eat as they must to remain living, but the deceased are deceased, and are forbidden to do so.”

16.5 

Sol: “So, I think that, ultimately, it depends on the circumstances, case by case. It requires careful but decisive investigation.”

16.6. Jim, close-up, a scrutinizing gaze.

Jim: “But Mr. Szombathy, you are not solely the books you read.”

17.

17.1. BORDER.

Jim: “What was your experience with a vampire? How do you feel about the morals and ethics?”

17.2.

Sol: “I… my family lived in Pittsburgh, you see. Since I was born.”

17.3. 

Sol: “My mother had been pregnant, just newly so, when they came here, from the old country.”

Jim: “Which…?”

Sol: “Transyvlania. In Rumania.”

17.4. Sol is in silhouette in the foreground. We see KÁLMAN SZOMBATHY, a Hungarian Jewish man nearing middle age. 

Sol: “My father—he was always very learned. In many ways. And he had acquaintances, friends, contacts? Who knew….”

17.5. Sol, younger, looking out the window at his father, who is outside with a candle in hand at night.

Sol: “Strange things. Secrets. Mysticism.”

17.6. Sol, a bit older, looking at his father examining a book. A diagram of the sefirot is visible—ish-style, or yosher?

Sol: “I saw so much of it, growing up. I didn’t think it was strange.”

18.

18.1. Sol, almost his present age, sitting by the window with a book, while his father talks with some baalei shem.

Sol: “Just… another thing we didn’t talk about with go—gentiles.”

Jim: “Like this… golem?”

18.2. The golem, standing with toddler Sol. It looks more lumpy and vaguely defined than when we see it later.

Sol: “Yes. It was around before I was born. Like a caretaker or guardian. A nanny.”

18.3. Sol sitting, reading a book aloud. His narration is not bubbled, but bleeds into the scenery.

Sol: “I would talk to it. Just… talk to it. My parents, my father only told it what to do.”

18.4. Sol looking up at the golem.

Sol: “And you may think it silly, sir, but sometimes, I thought that it spoke back.”

18.5. The golem looking down at Sol.

Jim: “Golems are said to be mute, are they not?”

18.6.

Sol: “So I am told.”

19.

19.1. A bedridden person.

Sol: “This summer, people started taking ill. A doctor came to visit, every one. But people just got worse. Wasting away.”

19.2. A doctor at the door, tipping his hat. He looks flushed, and has a distant expression.

Sol: “My parents had boarders. Renting rooms. And the doctor, the physician, came to call on one.”

19.3. Kálman stopping the golem, which seems determined to approach the “doctor” and has an upset expression.

Sol: “The golem kept… my parents said it was menacing him.”

19.4. Sol’s mother, DOINA URS-SZOMBATHY, shooing the golem from a door. Doina is about the same age as Kálman, with darker features.

Sol: “And it happened, the same day, that the Reverend Doctor Hammer was visiting. Resting, from traveling. He knew my father, somehow. The golem had been bothering him, too. Trying to push him around.”

Jim: “Hm.”

19.5. Sol, looking down.

Sol: “Which I guess is why he didn’t notice the physician was actually undead.”

19.6. Sol’s parents, reclining on a couch, resting their heads against one another. The shadow of the vampire looms over them.

Sol: “Which was why my parents thought it safe to rest, as well.”

20.

20.1.

Sol: “My parents—they were in the other room, you see. They had left the golem with me. Because it kept bothering everyone. Getting in the way.”

20.2.

Sol: “I guess the vampire got greedy, though. It came into my room. I was reading.”

20.3. The vampire reaching for Sol, who looks shocked. It is an upiór type, with a sharp, barbed tongue instead of fangs.

Sol: “I only realized what it was, up close. Too late for my parents.”

20.4. The golem’s clay fist swings at the vampire, sending it sprawling.

Sol: “But not too late for me.”

20.5. The vampire is sent flying across the room, slamming into the wall.

20.6. The Rev. Dr. MATTEUS HAMMER, a wild-eyed trans man of mixed Scandanavian and indigenous heritage, with a shock of white hair, in his pajamas and brandishing a sword and pistol.

Sol: “The fight woke up Dr. Hammer.”

21.

21.1. Splash of Hammer shooting the vampire in the heart. 

[CAPTION: THE REVEREND DOCTOR MATTEUS J. HAMMER

Age: Like, So Old

Born: A Man, In Spite Of What The Nurse Said Hometown: Tarrytown, NY

Background: Finnish/Swedish-American and Lenape, He’s Pretty Sure Fears: God And Nawt Else, Also Centipedes

Enjoys: Fresh-Baked Bread]

21.2. The golem stands between Hammer and Sol, protecting Sol.

22.

22.1.  Hammer looking over Sol.

Sol: “The Reverend Doctor, he checked me over. Asked me a lot of questions about what happened. About me.”

22.2. 

Sol: “Checked everyone else, too. Everyone who... survived.”

22.3. 

Sol: “And he told me… all things considered, I should come here.”

22.4. Jim, pensive.

Jim: “To report on your experiences? I’m sorry for what you’ve gone through, your loss, but….”

22.5. Sol, surprised.

Sol: “No, sir. He sent me here for me to seek employment.”

22.6. BORDER.

Sol: “As stated in the letter you dropped upon the ground.”

23.

23.1. Jim, flushed, looks at the envelope.

23.2. Jim, bends over to pick up the letter.

23.3. He dusts it off.

23.4. He opens the envelope.

23.5. He begins to read.

23.6. BORDER Hammer: “Dear Jim. Give the lad a job. Do something about the golem. Remember: that matter in Chattanooga. Or I will tell Marie. Sinc. The Rev. Dr. Matteus J. Hammer.”

24.

24.1.

Jim: “Well, then I suppose that this is an employment interview, although....”

24.2. Jim sighs through his nose.

24.3. BORDER.

Jim: “Chattanooga, eh?”

24.4. Jim: “In that case, we had best find the best place for you.”

24.5.

Jim: “Let me explain a bit more about what we do here.”

24.6.

Jim: “Through a number of agents, contacts, and former customers, we are apprised of events that may require our attention. Our more ordinary business provides both cover and funding for this.”

25.

25.1. Jim, facing Sol, sidelong view.

Jim: “We employ both in-office experts, and traveling agents who visit locations where vampirism is believed to be at play.”

25.2. Sol, headlong view.

Jim: “What qualifies you to act in the field, rather than from behind a desk?”

25.3. BORDER. Sol’s speech trails to .4.

Sol: “Well, sir, as a dhampir,”

25.4. Jim, headlong view. Two ghosts are visible, framing him: RODERICK and MADELINE USHER. They are the spirits of two young WASPs nearly identical in appearance, with large eyes, wild fine hair, and aquiline noses, clad in shrouds.

Sol: “I can see the dead.”

26.1. Roderick and Madeline notice Sol is looking at them.

Jim: “...”

26.2. Roderick waves coyly at Sol. Madeline seems disinterested.

Jim: “You would be far from the first to claim that you are able to see the unseen. Do you have any proof?”

26.3. 

Sol: “Outside of the word of Dr. Hammer…?”

Jim: “If you please.”

26.4. Jim, an eyebrow cocked.

Sol: “I don’t suppose you know that you have twin siblings hovering in the air around your study?”

26.5. Jim looks up at Roderick.

26.6. Jim looks up at Madeline.

27.1. 

Jim: “You will, I trust, forgive my skepticism. Even in this trade, there is always room for incredulity.”

27.2. Jim lets out a puff of a sigh.

27.3.

Jim: “I myself have found that what one sees is not always what is.”

27.4. A view of Sol, from Jim’s perspective. Sol and the room are crawling with transparent insects of imaginative and unnatural anatomy. Take care to note that they are only visible on surfaces of a solid, continuous color.

27.5. BORDER.

Sol: “Do you find that very often?”

27.6. Jim, looking weary, dusts one ‘bug’ off the table.

Jim: “For many a year.”

28.

28.1.

Jim: “But, here, you said that you were a dhampir! How comes that to happen?”

28.2. Sol, obviously embarrassed.

Sol: “In the usual manner, sir.”

28.3. BORDER.

Jim: “Which is to say, one of your parents—your birth parents—was a vampire?”

28.4.

Sol: “My mother’s first husband. After his death. My father, I suppose, my stepfather, was his brother.”

28.5.

Jim: “My condolences.”

28.6. Sol, holding the cane tightly.

Sol: “I don’t think of it much. It wasn't his fault.”

29.

29.1. Jim stands up abruptly.

Jim: “Quite! Not his fault. Not his fault. The majority of vampires—people want someone to blame, you know?”

29.2. Jim begins to walk out the door, motioning ‘come here’ to Sol. Pluton perks up.

Jim: “But a vampire—follow after, won’t you?—is not really a someone. It’s a something.”

29.3. Jim walks outside towards the box, Sol and Pluton following.

Jim: “Are you familiar with the association of vampirism with cases of tubercular consumption in Connecticut?”

29.4. Jim has reached the box and is inspecting it, leaning over it.

Sol: “That there was some similarity, but that the word ‘vampire’ was not used?”

29.5. Jim circles the box. 

Jim: “Well, the papers used it—here, how do we open this—though the locals did not.”

29.6. BORDER.

Sol: “Open it, sir?”

30.

30.1. Jim, gesturing at the box. 

Jim: “This is the golem in here, is it not?”

30.2. Sol, hesitant. In the background, RANDOLPH CARTER appears in the doorway, startled. Reference HP Lovecraft, naturally.

Sol: “Yes, but—” 30.3. Carter rushes up, waving the letter from Hammer in his hand.

Randolph: “Mister Cullock! James! I can see what you mean to do and—this is folly of unfathomably cyclopean proportions!”

30.4. BORDER.

Randolph: “The letter from Matteus Hammer is entirely explicit in its brevity, this container is as an inscrutable Hebraic box of Pandora!”

30.5. Jim, gesturing bemusedly to Randolph.

Jim: “Ah, Mr. Szombathy. Allow me to introduce our Rare Books Expert, Mr. Randolph Carter.”

31.

31.1. Carter looks down at Sol.

[CAPTION: RANDOLPH CARTER Age: Younger than he looks, really.

Born: 8/20/1874

Hometown: Some Nameless New England Town

Expertise: Ancient Tomes, Forgotten Lore, Adjectives

Hangups: Xenophobia, Icthyophobia, Anglophilia]

31.2. Carter nods at Sol in greeting, ignoring Sol’s offered handshake.

Randolph: “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mister Szombathy.”

31.3. Carter whips his head around (speed lines!) back to Jim.

Randolph: “I really must protest, James!”

31.4. BORDER Randolph: “The golem acted without instruction, in a violent and destructive manner according to its inhuman whims!”

31.5. BORDER, again. The text is less contained within the bubble.

Randolph: “It is a lifeless husk animated by eldritch secrets, which has demonstrated a readiness to cause harm!”

31.6. BORDER, once more. The text is almost overtaking the space, no longer contained in a bubble.

Randolph: “It is every bit the arcane monstrosity that we are employed to eliminate, an idiot half-form!”

32. The thickest BORDER panel so far, over a three panel of one full width over two half-widths.

32.1. BORDER. A single, solid, centered speech bubble, trailing down.

Jim: “Enough.”

32.2. Jim, over the box, holding a pair of gardening shears to the ropes binding it.

32.3. The severed ropes falling, in view of Sol.

Jim: “Mr. Szombathy; I should like to employ you. But after hearing your story, I suspect that you are but one part of what the stores would call a ‘package deal’.”

32.4. Jim opening the box, viewed from as if within.

Jim: “Would you mind if I were to awaken it?”

33.

33.1. Sol, looking resolute, with Carter looking horrified behind.

33.2. Repeat of 33.1, but with Sol nodding, Carter faint with terror.

Sol: “Please do, Mr. Cullock.”

33.3. A full view from above of the golem in the box. It is squared and inanimate, eyes shut and form even more vague than in the flashback. Pluton bounds into panel.

33.4. BORDER, more gray than black, now.

Jim: “Please, call me Jim.”

34.

34.1. Jim reaches into his pocket and pulls out a strip of paper. Pluton appears in the corner.

Jim: “Matteus had sent this ahead, as well.”

34.2. He holds it up for Sol and Carter to see. An א is visible, but the rest is concealed by the curl of the paper.

Jim: “I take it this is the ‘sacred words under the tongue’ type of golem, rather than the ‘אמת’ variety?”

34.3. Sol, confused.

Sol: “Yes, s—Jim.”

34.4. Jim, looking contemplative and holding the strip absently.

Jim: “I wonder. Was the golem silent for fear of spitting out the paper?”

Sol: “Eh?” 34.5. BORDER. Still gray.

Jim: “I would keep mum, myself, if my continued animation depended upon something held under my tongue.”

34.6. Jim’s hand pressing a tiny hole into the clay. Pluton is looking over the edge of the box.

Jim: “Just like planting a seed, hm?”

35.

35.1. Jim’s hand swipes over the hole, sealing it by pushing clay back over.

Jim: “There, now—”

35.2. BORDER, but with the image of ‘eyes opening’, slightly, in white.

35.3. BORDER as 35.2, but wider. Jim, Sol, Pluton, and Carter coming into view.

35.4. BORDER as 35.3, wider. Jim, Sol, Pluton, and Carter in full view.

35.5. Same panel width as 35.2-4, but a full, unshaded panel of Jim, Sol, Pluton, and Carter.

36.

36.1. The golem sits up, form still vague, androgynous. Carter shocks, Jim smiles, Sol looks nervous, Pluton is deadpan and does not move from looking over the edge of the box.

Jim: “How is that?”

36.2. The golem looks at Jim. Everyone’s expressions are the same as 36.1.

Jim: “Can you try speaking, now?”

36.3. The golem, closeup, mouth open slightly.

36.4. Same as 36.3.

Golem: “C’n try… speaking.”

36.5. Now Sol is shocked, too.

36.6. Same as 36.5.

Sol: “He can talk?”

37.

37.1. The golem, frowning.

Golem: “...can.”

37.2. Sol and Carter, even more shocked. 

Randolph: “M-mimicry?”

37.3. The golem gives a headshake.

Golem: “Nuh-uh.”

37.4. The golem’s gaze shifts in the direction of Sol.

Golem: “Why… c-call me….”

37.5. The golem, looking down.

Golem: “He?”

37.6. Sol looks as though he has realized; unlit lightbulb? Carter is fizzling smoke from his noggin.

38.

38.1. Repeat of 37.6. More smoke from Carter, lit lightbulb on Sol.

Sol: “You’re a girl!”

38.2. The golem nods.

38.3.

Sol: “I’m so sorry, I never realized—you looked like a boy, so?”

38.4. The golem, puzzled.

Golem: “...looked?”

38.5. The golem starts to push out of the box.

Sol: “Of course, I should know, appearances and all, but—”

39. 

39.1. The golem starts to rise from the box, form changed towards a more definite shape.

39.2. Continuing from 39.1, more and more defined, more and more upright. 

39.3. Fully upright, fully defined as feminine. Dotty as per concept art.

39.4. The golem, in full view, looking down at herself while Jim, Sol, Pluton, and Carter are gathered around.

Golem: “Be...tter?”

40. Four quarter-width panels, one full, two half-width.

40.1. Jim, smiling.

Jim: “Quite so.”

40.2. Sol, beaming.

Sol: “Amazing!”

40.3. Pluton, feline.

Pluton: “Miau.”

40.4. Carter, stunned.

Randolph: “Transmogrification!?”

40.5. The golem, smiling.

40.6. Jim, Sol, Pluton, Carter.

Jim: “And how should we call you, Miss…”

40.7. The golem, thinking.

Golem: “D…”

41.

41.1. The golem, DOROTHEEA “DOTTY” SZOMBATHY, smiling, her speech bubble forming the CAPTION:

[Dorotheea Szombathy But you c’n call me Dotty!

Age: I dunno, like eight’r nine months older’n Sol?

Birthdate: I guess February of 1903? It was Tu B’shvat, I think.

I love helpin’ Sol, and all kinds of toys and games! My clay came from Horezu, but I was born in Bran! That’s in Transylvania, you know? The one in Rumania, not Usonia]

41.2. A view from behind Dotty as she continues talking. Jim and Sol look dumbfounded, Carter is letting out smoke from both ears and his eyes have rolled all the way back in his head.

Dotty: “I was asleep on the boat to Usonia, but someday I wanna try riding it while I’m awake….”

Jim: “Oh, she certainly can talk.”

Sol: “יא”

42. END page of “Can You Tell Me The Way To Usher St?”

42.1. CAPTION: 

[סוף.]

42.2. A bubble of Dotty.

Dotty: “Say, c’n I wear clothes now?”

[jughead-is-canonically-aroace]

The Man Who Was Too Awkward To Mention He Had Amnesia

i wrote this for @spookyson-zine! the art is by @katanacupcake-art

summary: yknow that one john mulaney bit where he’s like “if i had amnesia no one would ever know because when someone you don’t recognize acts like they know you you pretend you know them and pray you remember”? like that

pairing: moxiety

wordcount: 3952

disclaimer: this is a rom-com. it is not attempting to be an accurate portrayal of amnesia or post-coma recovery or medical practice. creative liberties have been taken.

Virgil, upon awakening, knew approximately three things: his name, the fact that he was horizontal, and that there were at least two people in the room with him. He could tell that last bit from the loud sobbing and comforting noises coming from his right.

“It’s not your fault, Patton. He’ll wake up soon, and he’ll tell you.”

Virgil opened his eyes. He was in a rather brightly white room. To his left, a soft, roundish man in a blue sweater covered in puppies and kittens sat in a folding chair, crying into a handkerchief. A man in truly ridiculous amount of glittery gold eyeshadow and a violently red sweater had his arms wrapped around the other in comfort, whilst a man in a dress shirt and tie sat primly and somberly in a third chair near his feet.

This was all he registered before the three noticed his open eyes and the soft one (Patton?) launched himself forwards with a cry of relief.

Smothered in hugs and with a warm, fond feeling filling him as he hugged back and a kiss was pressed to his hair, Virgil thought, I love him. And then: This must be my boyfriend.

—

Virgil was discharged from the hospital within the hour* and was quickly piled into the backseat of a bright red convertible with Patton. Business Casual watched him over his shoulder from the passenger seat as Glitter Eyeshadow (I really need to figure out their names) started the car and pulled out of the parking lot, but as they turned onto the freeway he turned back forwards, apparently satisfied with what he had (or hadn’t) seen.

“Roman, would you please put the top up?”

“Do you not enjoy the feeling of the wind in your hair? The sensation of speed? The taste of adventure??”

“No.”

Roman put the top up, and Virgil noted his name with relief. Two down, one to go.

As Virgil settled against the window, staring out at the swiftly passing shrubbery and rough-cut rock lining the road, he recalled what the doctor had told him**.

“You were hit by an ATV at an intersection where you had right of way. All your medical bills have been handled by the other driver. You, miraculously, received only minor-to-moderate abrasions and contusions, aside from a rather nasty head wound, and appear to have no lasting effects.” The doctor smiled down at Virgil, and he briefly attempted to say “Actually, I do have one extremely present lasting effect,” but the doctor breezed onward without giving him a chance. “You were extremely lucky, Mr. Sanders.”

Ten minutes later, they were pulling into the driveway of a suburban 4-bedroom house.

—

[ID: 3 panel comic, panels stacked. virgil is upstairs, anxiously looking at different bedroom doors and trying to figure out which one is his, saying “Huh…” He’s wearing a black hoodie and the background is purple. A fly flies past behind his head.

The first door has a banner that reads “PRINCE”, a crown, and sparkles. it is captioned “No”. the second is a blank door. it is captioned “Maybe.” the third is covered in flowers and hearts, and has a unicorn on it. it is captioned “No!”. the fourth is also blank. it is captioned “...Maybe?”

Virgil closes his eyes, looking nervy yet determined. he is thinking “Well... There’s only one thing left to do...”

end ID]

[ID: 3 panel comic, panels stacked. virgil is in the living room, sitting on the couch and waiting for a clue for which room is his. He looks very anxious, thinking “This is fine.” there are sweat/nerves emotes around his head and he is blushing. there is a houseplant on a stand to the left and a red lamp on a side table to the right. the background is purple.

There’s a closeup on virgil’s face in profile. he is thinking “All I have to do is wait until four-eyes picks one of our less obvious rooms.” he is on the right and facing left, and there is a stylized drawing of logan’s face with angry eyebrows and a frown on the left. the background is a black-white gradient fading into the middle, with black emphasis lines pointing into the middle.

Patton suddenly appears beside virgil and says “HEY!!”, startling him. a zig of surprise emote and the word “zoinks!” are beside virgil’s head, and his eyes are boggling. patton’s face is stylized like a cat emote, with a 3 mouth and greater/less than signs for eyes. patton is wearing a blue shirt with a red cardigan tied around his shoulders. patton’s speech is in white bubble letters, and emphasized with many exclamation marks and a tilde. the background is purple.

end ID]

[ID: 5 panel comic, with panels 1, 4, and 5 stacked, and panels 2 and 3 stacked next to panel 1. Virgil flops over sideways onto patton’s lap. patton is sitting on the couch and virgil is curled stiffly on his side. they are stylized. the background is white.

A stylized icon of patton’s surprised face is looking down, with a loading bar next to his head, and a pink circle behind him. the background is white. Below that, the same stylized icon of patton’s face is happy and smiling, surrounded by yellow flowers and delight emotes. it is captioned “cuddle time!”

Next is a shot of virgil’s face where he is lying down. he is thinking “Wow this guy definitely is my boyfriend...” he is blushing, and looking to the left. there are white hearts around him and the background is navy blue.

A view from behind the couch over logan’s shoulder shows the stylized back of patton’s head surrounded by delight emotes and yellow flowers. logan’s face is in the right of the panel, looking suspiciously at the camera. it is captioned “suspicious A F” with a curly arrow pointing at logan.

end ID]

—

Later…

Virgil followed Patton up the stairs. They stopped in front of one of the blank doors. Please please please let this be my room and this not just be Patton stopping in front of the upstairs bathroom door or in front of Business Casual’s door for some reason or maybe I completely misjudged him and this is HIS room- “Well,” said Patton, “Goodnight! Sleep well!” With a final hug, he turned and crossed the hall back to the sticker-encrusted door, stepping inside, and Virgil nodded with a quiet “You too.”

Virgil tried to convince himself to try the door, but the imminent fear that Business Casual would appear, find him breaking into his room, and immediately unearth him as an amnesiac imposter and no longer the friend they knew and loved and kick him out on the street with only the clothes on his back and he’d have to resort to dealing drugs at Denny’s-

Business Casual, dressed in actual pajamas patterned with actual erlenmeyer flasks and test tubes of bright liquids, stepped out of the bathroom at the end of the hall and walked past him to the other blank door, opening it. He paused, and turned back. “Virgil, are you alright?”

“Yes! Fine!” Virgil jolted into motion and opened the door before him, stepping inside and turning to close it quickly. He caught a glimpse of Actual Chemistry Pajamas’ face, confused, mildly concerned, and contemplative, as he closed the door.

Virgil turned to look at his room.

Posters for The Nightmare Before Christmas and Welcome to Night Vale hung on one wall, while album covers for My Chemical Romance, Gorillaz, and a myriad of other bands covered another. An easel with a black canvas stood in a corner next to a bucket of oil paints, surrounded by a drop cloth. Next to it, a desk cluttered with notebooks, colored pencils, pastels, watercolors, and other art supplies. A paint-splattered pair of white jeans and large t-shirt was tossed over the back of the chair. Filling the remaining wall was a large bookshelf. Miscellaneous clutter formed a patchy layer over his floor, and a laundry bin half-full of clean clothes sat beside a pile of dirty clothes by his dresser.

Virgil’s eyes pricked with exhaustion, and he delegated all… that to tomorrow. He carefully stepped over to his bed, and sat down.

Reaching over to his nightstand, he picked his phone up and unlocked it.

Wait.

Virgil quickly popped into settings and removed the password, then set about searching the rest of his phone for clues.

Contacts had only “Puff🐶💙💜” (Patton, who is definitely my boyfriend), “Moi✨💄🌟” (Roman.), “Nerd🍇🤖🌡” (@god why. Please I just need to know his name), some tech support numbers, and “Manager”. He had Temple Run and Subway Surfer and Geometry Dash, but not much else. He had the Tumblr app, but it crashed as soon as he opened it. Finally, he checked Notes.

I don’t know why I didn’t start here. The Notes app was a jackpot. His social security number, directions to an unknown location, the address of a cafe in Rochester, his computer password (!), and “hamlo”, whatever that was.

Searching through the rest of the notes yielded slightly less lucrative results - numerous notes with random thoughts apparently written whilst trying to fall asleep (“dog pants?” “burger pant’s son, burger shorts. jr pants. shorts = young pants?” “Dumbell/Sawdust” “rubix cubes physically manifesting in your home” “burger pusher/at least im not a burger pusher. im a coffee pusher. im a cat?”), a note with translated roman numerals, and a note that simply read “modo g^5 plus”.

Virgil shrugged, called it a success, and went to get ready for bed.

—

Roman has an arm on Virgil’s chest, preventing him from grabbing his (“Be careful! That’s new!”) phone back as he quickly changes the contact names, adding several emojis to each. Business Casual leans over the back of the couch to read the screen.

“Why am I a thermometer?”

“It’s the closest thing I could find to a test tube.” Roman looked dramatically into the distance. “Sometimes, we have to make do with what we have.”

Virgil, upon return of his phone, reddens at the blue and purple heart emojis Roman put in Patton’s contact name. But he also doesn’t change them.

—

Virgil woke up the next morning at 6:58. He lay in bed for several minutes, blinking sleepily at the ceiling, before he registered the smell of pancakes drifting under the door.

Downstairs, he found Patton putting on his coat, shoving folders into a backpack, and eating the last few bites of his breakfast while glancing frantically at the clock. “Morning Virgil! You’re up early! Can you put this in the sink?” Virgil took the sticky plate as Patton slung the backpack over his shoulder, wriggled into his other sleeve, and darted out of the kitchen. “Bye Virge! Love you!” The door slammed.

“Bye,” he replied to the empty room. He put the plate down.

Investigating the cupboards, he eventually found a plate and fork, and pulled a few pancakes off the cooling rack in the middle of the table. Chewing slowly, he listened to the birds chirping out the window and the sound of someone jogging by.

Jogging up the steps.

Roman swung sweatily into the kitchen in running shorts and a tank top emblazoned with a logo of a yellow “watch out for children”-style road sign with two people running across a stage. He breezed over to the cabinets without noticing Virgil’s presence, dancing a bit to the pop music faintly drifting from his headphones, and humming a few notes. He turned to the table and startled violently.

“Virgil! You’re up early.” He quickly pulled his headphones off.

“Haha, yeah, I mean,” Virgil frantically dug for an excuse. “I have just been asleep for a month.”

Roman laughed, settling into a chair. He forked five pancakes onto his plate and splashed fruit sauce onto them before diving in. Virgil quietly finished his breakfast to the tinny tune of Lady Gaga’s Boys Boys Boys still drifting from Roman’s headphones.

“Hey, so, um, what’s the situation with like, work?” Virgil prayed he had been fired. He could not handle having to do this with his coworkers, too.

Roman looked awkwardly to the side. “I’m sorry, dude. They said they couldn’t keep you on past three weeks. So.”

Virgil nodded, trying not to let the relief show on his face. “That’s valid.”

Roman barked out a short, surprised laugh. “I saw a hiring sign at Starbies this morning though, you could try there.”

Virgil nodded again, and they lapsed into silence. Roman turned off his playlist.

Later, Roman tugs the last of the pancakes onto another plate and sticks them in the microwave, muttering something about how “pocket calculator probably pulled another all-nighter”. Virgil treks back up to his room to look up which Starbucks is near enough to be the one Roman was talking about, and Roman disappears into the bathroom to take a shower. 15 minutes later, Business Casual runs past his open door trailing a tie and a partially-unzipped backpack, and soon after the door slams once more.

—

Virgil walked the 4 short blocks to the hiring Starbucks, bought a coffee, and completed & turned in his application within half an hour. He got a call a week later, sweated and bullshitted his way through the interview, and miraculously got hired anyway. He was scheduled for 5-hour timeslots at various times Monday-Saturday. Thus, the following Sunday, neither Patton nor Virgil had any work they needed to rush off to.

The two had almost absentmindedly migrated from breakfast to the dishes, and they quietly coexisted while Patton washed and Virgil dried. As Virgil put away the last plate, Patton tapped him gently on the shoulder.

“Hey, Virgil?” asked Patton quietly. He looked down, fiddling with his fingers uncertainly. “D’you want to do some painting with me?”

“Yeah, sure,” replied Virgil, smiling. “Sounds fun.”

The change in Patton’s demeanor was immediate. He bloomed like a cereus in the night, rising and filling the room with his bright smile and luminous aura. “Alright! I’ll get the stuff!” He bustled off upstairs, leaving Virgil, stunned and very gay, in the kitchen. He recovered after a minute and went to change into paint clothes.

Patton and Virgil set up in the living room, spreading a large piece of thick brown paper over the rug and scattering paints and glitter within easy reach. He plopped cross-legged on the paper, and Virgil followed suit.

“What are we making?” he asked.

“Whatever we want! This is one of my favorite projects to do with my kindergarteners, just give them a big piece of paper and a lot of craft supplies and let them do wherever they want.” Patton opened up a bottle of blue paint and squirted a bit into his hand. He continued, “Kids have something really special when it comes to art, they don’t focus on the end, they just grab some paint and go.”

Mixing in some white, he spread the paint in his palm in a wide circle over the brown paper. “I think we forget how to do that when we grow up, and I’ve been trying to relearn it from my students with this activity.”

Virgil hummed. He grabbed a bottle of purple, and, squirting it into his hand, began to add little dots and curlicues to the paper with his pinky, carving tiny cracks with his fingernail.

Patton continued to talk quietly about some of the other art projects he had done with his kindergarteners as the picture began to take shape. The two crawled and reached around their workspace and each other, trying their best not to smudge the paint. Virgil put his hand down in a colorful patch, shrugged, and slapped it down in a bare space.

They continued for some time, until eventually they both tired. Virgil leaned against Patton and they looked over the smudgy, colorful, glittery painting. Patton leaned into Virgil, too, with a happy sigh.

—

Virgil stared at the black canvas in his room. He tilted his head to the left. To the right.

I don’t get it.

Turning to the desk, he flipped through a few notebooks. They held heavily pigmented, shadowy works in pastel, deeply layered colored pencil, and many, many half-finished sketches, some violently scribbled out. He found one sketch of what was apparently going to be an oil painting, with a list of what sections were going to be added on which layers, but the background was purple, not black.

Another notebook held loose sheets of watercolor paper, some filled with so much paint portions were almost black, others with only a few layers, clearly in the early stages.

Dang, I sure do like dark colors.

Turning back to the canvas, he shrugged and picked up a pallet.

Fuck it. I’ll just Bob Ross it and do whatever.

—

Virgil snarls at the canvas. Nothing is coming out like it is supposed to. In a fit of anger, he grabs his largest brush, and slaps black paint over the entire surface, obliterating the slightly wonky figure of a person in profile. With another growl, he tears out the page the sketch for the piece had been on and crumples it up, pitching it into the trash. Stripping out of his paint clothes, he crashes straight into bed. The clock greenly blinks the time at him: 4:37 AM.

—

Saturday afternoon, Virgil had learned, Patton volunteered at the SPCA. Virgil lounged in the living room with a book as Patton bounced around, humming as he gathered his coat and his bag.

Patton poked his head in. “Hey Virge! Wanna come to work with me? I think Buster misses you.”

Virgil looked up from his book. “Hm… Yeah.” He smiled, marking his place and standing. Leaving the book on the coffee table, he followed Patton out the door.

When they got to the SPCA, Patton immediately led him into the back and over to where a tiny corgi and a large mastiff lay together in a pen. The two dogs jumped up as they approached, the corgi hopping eagerly over to say hi to Virgil.

“Let me just grab Keaton…” muttered Patton, reaching over to take the mastiff’s collar. Virgil, however, had already reached out and was scratching Keaton behind the ears. Patton raised his eyebrows, then smiled, bouncing on his toes a bit. “Virgil! I’m so proud of you!!” Virgil nodded absently, leaning further into the pen to waffle his hand along Buster’s back.

“You can step into the pen,” Patton told him with a laugh. Virgil was quick to do so, plopping down on the floor.

Checking their collars discreetly to be certain of their names, Virgil murmured various baby-talks at Buster and Keaton as the two tumbled over him. Patton cooed at them, watching the three as Virgil tried to pet both dogs all over at once. He took many photos on his phone.

—

“…And Virgil did so much better around Keaton, too! They were like best buds, Keaton was all over him and he was fine! I’m so proud,” Patton finished, stirring the dregs of his soup as he spoke.

“Oh, well done, Virgil,” said Business Casual through a mouthful. He swallowed, and continued. “I know larger dogs have been a difficult issue for you for quite some time. I’m glad you’ve taken the initiative to work on your fear.”

Virgil tried desperately not to show his panic. I was afraid of big dogs?? Ffffff-

“Yeah, uh, I just felt bad about separating Buster from his buddy when I visited.” He awkwardly fiddled with his empty water glass. Business Casual was giving him a weird look. What did that mean.

Thankfully, Roman inadvertently saved him by changing the subject to his own day at work, running a Saturday workshop on improv at the youth theatre company he worked for.

—

There was a box of brownie mix in the cupboard.

Virgil leaned into the living room, where Patton was working on a lesson plan. He waggled the box. “Wanna make brownies?”

Patton’s head popped up, beaming. “Yes!!!” He stood, putting a hand to his back, then bounced over. “I forgot that was in there!”

He started pulling out measuring cups, and Virgil glanced over the instructions before opening the fridge to grab eggs.

Virgil measured the oil, eggs, and water into the bowl as Pat stirred. Once the liquid ingredients had been thoroughly combined, Virgil measured out half the bag of mix and poured it in. Patton folded the two together, blending carefully before stirring more vigorously. Flecks of batter flew out of the bowl, and Virgil grunted in surprise as a drop hit him in the cheek.

Patton stopped and looked over at him. He giggled, glancing back down at his own shirt. “I guess I battered it a bit too much, huh?” He grinned cheekily up at Virgil, sunlight breaking over the horizon. A bit of batter had landed on his lip.

Virgil leaned down and kissed him.

Patton jumped back with a loud shriek, eyes widening in shock. “What!?”

Virgil took a step back, raising his hands defensively. “What?” Should I have given him more warning? Isn’t kissing something you do with someone you’re dating? Am I wrong about that?? Did the brain injury screw up my factual knowledge too???

Footsteps thudded from upstairs, and Roman bounded into the room, followed by Business Casual. “What happened?!”

“What!” Patton squeaked again.

“I’m sorry!” Virgil frantically replied. “I’m not- I’m confused. I’m sorry!” He waved his hands frantically.

“What happened?” Business Casual asked, stepping between the two. “Wh. Why are you covered in batter?” Virgil and Patton ignored him.

“What- Why did you kiss me??” shrilled Patton.

“Because we’re dating???” Virgil replied incredulously. Patton’s eyes blew even wider.

“I- You- Virge, since when?”

Virgil paused. What?? “Are. Are we not dating?”

“No! I think I would know if I was dating you!”

Everything Virgil thought he knew was crashing down around him. The world was ending. This was his worst nightmare.

“But! I thought! Everything adds up to you dating me! You spend more one-on-one time with me than anyone else! You hug me more than anyone else! You look at me different and you smile at me more! You said you loved me! You kissed the top of my head when I first woke up!” he explained frantically. Everything is over. Patton will hate me now and they’re going to kick me out and realize I have amnesia and I’m going to be homeless and lose my job and-

“Yeah, because I’m hopelessly in love with you and can’t handle how gay I am!”

For a moment, everything stopped. What?

“You’re in love with me?”

“You thought we were dating!”

“You just said we weren’t!”

“Virgil, why would you not recall that Patton and yourself were not dating?”

Everyone turned to Business Casual, who had stepped away from the two and was now leaning against the opposite counter.

“Virgil, you said you had extrapolated from Patton’s actions that the two of you were dating, citing specifically when you, quote, “first woke up”. Odd phrasing in any situation, but particularly when compounded with the rest of this situation. So, Virgil. Care to share why it was you needed to extrapolate from such details your and Patton’s relationship status?”

Virgil slumped hopelessly. This is it. I’m going to have to sell drugs at Dennys. “I don’t remember anything. I have amnesia.”

Business Casual smirked. “As I suspected.”

“You knew?? Why didn’t you say anything? Do you know how worried I’ve been that you all’d find out and be mad at me for not telling you sooner and kick me out for being an imposter?? I don’t even know your name! Do you have any idea how stressful this has been for me??”

“It’s Logan. And you could have just said something yourself.” Logan raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, but like, there was never really a good time… and I didn’t want to be rude and be like “Who are you!” ‘cause you all were so happy to see me awake… and then it had been so long that it would have just been weird…”

—

Virgil and Patton sat awkwardly on the couch, facing each other. Logan had volunteered to call the doctor for Virgil, and Roman had quietly disappeared back upstairs.

“So,” said Patton. “Um. I guess you know I’m in love with you now. I’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable to be around me now, I can leave you alone for a while if you want, and I’ll try to get over-“

“Patton,” Virgil interrupted, perplexed. “I kissed you.”

“Yes! But! That was just because you thought we were dating!” Virgil had never heard anything more dumb in his life (the past month). And he worked customer service.

“Pat, I wouldn’t have thought we were dating if I didn’t like you too.” Virgil took a breath. “I thought we were dating because, when you hugged me after I first woke up, my first thought was that I loved you. I may not remember you, but I remember how I felt about you. And how I felt about you was that I loved you so much that even a major brain injury couldn’t take it away.”

Patton stared into Virgil’s eyes. “So you like me too?”

“Yes.”

“Can I kiss you?”

Virgil leaned down in reply, and Patton met him halfway.

—

“And so as you can see from the compounded evidence, combined with his recent confession, Virgil definitely has amnesia.”

“Why was this necessary?” asked Roman. “You just listed all the times you saw Virgil doing something suspicious and out-of-character. We already know Virgil has amnesia. You didn’t need to make us sit down and watch a powerpoint about it.”

“In my defense, I spent a very long time doing this instead of my homework and wanted to share it with someone.” ***

—

*dont @ me, you read the disclaimer

**DONT FUCKING @ ME

***the note in my outline for this is: logan: here is my powerpoint on how virgil definitely has amnesia

[pawthorn]

[Image: A four-image set of a comic about Ashton Greymoore of Critical Role. Text reading, "We had a job" followed by a panel of Ashton's eyes, both purple, shining and unclouded. Next is a panel of Ashton before their accident, arms crossed. Text reads, "We didn't know who she was. It hardly mattered. It was just grab something. Get out. Simple stuff. I was on lookout." A panel of a stylized white outline of Ashton, struck by a red beam. Text around it reads, "Didn't go well. Really really really didn't go well. I got hit with some magic force bolt. Right in the back." A panel of three stylized white figures running away. Text reads, "Everyone had to skip town." A panel of a limp, green hand on the ground, red beneath. Text reads, "I got hurt." Text reading, "Do you resent them all for leaving you?" A panel of present-day Ashton speaking, framed from upper chest to just below the eyes. Speech bubble reads, "Absolutely fucking not. I would've done the same." A panel focused on Ashton's head injury. A text box reads “They very smartly took off and I very happily took the debt." A second text box obscuring Ashton’s eye reads, “It's what you do for family.” A panel focused on Milo’s eyes, furrowed in concentration, sweat at the temple. Text reads, “Milo had done their best putting me back together.” A panel of Milo’s lower face with more sweat. Text reads “Basically with some sort of weird chaos fairy magic bullshit? Who knows. Whatever it did, it worked. And I'm basically fine.” A panel of tools, iridescent flames, and broken pieces of Ashton’s body, lined in gold. Text reads, “It worked out alright. Shit happens. Worse things have happened.” A panel of Fearne with wide shining eyes, speaking. Speech bubble reads, “I think… I think you're sort of… Beautiful.” A panel of Ashton sitting on a chair with a relaxed posture, looking thoughtful as they raise a tankard to their mouth. Speech bubble reads, “Heh.” A panel of Ashton looking in the mirror, heavily bandaged, back to the viewer. The panel is connected to a second panel by a jagged, broken line. The second panel focuses on Ashton’s eyes as they are now, with gold scars across their face and one eye white and clouded. Text beneath reads, “Me too.”]

I’m sure he thinks his new look is cool as hell but it had to have been a little jarring to look in the mirror for the first time after that