#virgil reality is my spirit animal

[pixelpoppers]

Bubsy: Paws on Fire! has a really interesting level structure and I'm gonna talk about it.

The short version is that it allows for a lot of player freedom in approach and in forming the difficulty curve, and has a lot more content than it might first appear.

The long version follows.

The foundation is the four playable characters, each with their own abilities:

Bubsy the Bobcat plays similarly to what you'd expect from a Bit.Trip Runner game. His levels are 2D side-scrolling platformers. Bubsy runs automatically and can jump, ground slam, glide, and "pounce" (a forward dash-attack).

Virgil Reality (whom I had never heard of just a few days ago and who is now my spirit animal) plays very similarly to Bubsy, but with slightly different abilities. He runs automatically and can also jump and ground slam, but instead of a glide and pounce he has a double-jump and a "slide" for ducking under obstacles.

The Woolie is different. Her levels are also 2D side-scrollers, but she doesn't run - she's in a flying saucer, and while her levels scroll automatically just like Bubsy's and Virgil's, she can move freely within the current boundaries of the screen. Her only other ability is a forward-firing laser, and she moves more slowly while firing. (There are also power-ups she can pick up that give her a double shot or a triple spread shot.)

Arnold the Armadillo is even more different. His levels are like a 3D tunnel racer. The camera is positioned behind Arnold as he automatically rolls forward along a cylindrical tube, with his only ability being to move horizontally around the tunnel wall.

Every character uses their abilities to progress through levels, picking up collectibles and avoiding obstacles. There are 150 standard collectibles in each level which show an ideal path, but you don't actually have to get them. They increase your score and can be spent on new costumes, but they have no effect on your progress through the game. The first time you reach the end of level with a given character (which is a significantly easier goal than getting all the collectibles) you get a "victory medallion" for that character and level. That's the mechanism by which progress is gated - later levels require that you have some total number of victory medallions. But like Stars in Mario 64 or equivalent systems in other collectathon platformers, this number is always less than what you'll earn if you finish each level with each character, giving you some freedom in what order you approach challenges and letting you skip ones that are giving you particular difficulty or that you don't find enjoyable.

The one kind of weird thing is that Arnold is positioned differently than the side-scrolling characters, which has a couple of implications. Arnold levels aren't immediately playable - to get access to an Arnold level, you must collect special collectibles as the other characters. Each of Bubsy, Virgil, and Woolie's levels have three fragments of an Arnold medallion in them (sometimes hid more sneakily than the standard collectibles). Get all nine fragments and you unlock the corresponding Arnold level.

Arnold levels, in addition to playing quite differently, are actually bonus levels. You can't fail them - the obstacles only break your point combo and make it harder to see what's coming. And 40 of the 150 collectibles are put together in a giant unmissable collectible at the very end. So even if you have terrible aim or just put the controller down, you are guaranteed to hit the end and get a victory medallion and 40 standard collectibles. It's legitimately a bonus reward for getting all the Arnold medal fragments and you can treat it as such if you don't enjoy Arnold's gameplay - but optionally you can also try to get all 150 of the collectibles and max out your score.

The downside of this structure is that the game looks shorter than it is. The game has three worlds, each with nine main levels and then a boss level. Each main level can be played as Bubsy, Virgil, or Woolie, and has an associated bonus level for Arnold. (Boss levels are one-shots.)

So this looks like the game has thirty levels, but in practice it has one hundred eleven - nearly four times as many, because each main level is really four levels in one. Officially you play the same level as Bubsy, Virgil, and Woolie, but their collectibles are placed differently and their abilities mean they take different paths. To me, they feel like completely different levels (especially Woolie) and if they hadn't been grouped together on the map it wouldn't have even occurred to me that they reuse content, because in practice they really don't. They are three different levels - and Arnold's of course are completely different since they are in a tunnel.

It's a little unfortunate the confusion this framing can cause, and it makes the game look much shorter than it is which may put people off of the price tag (though it's already at a budget price). I'm not convinced it was the best idea and perhaps there was a clearer way to handle it. But once you understand it and how much content it means there is, it's a good thing.

So to recap, Bubsy: Paws On Fire!'s level structure means that:

There are three distinct styles of play (or four, depending how you count the similar Bubsy/Virgil styles - I find they feel different enough that I have a distinct preference for Virgil) making for frequent changes of pace. But you always know what play style you're signing up for and won't be suddenly surprised by having to learn a new style in the middle of a level or something. And you get to decide when to switch things up - I rotate through all four characters on each level before proceeding, but you could do a bunch of Woolie levels and then go back and do several Virgil levels if you wanted to.

Levels have a nice wide competence zone - the skill floor of just reaching the end of a level is all you need to progress in the game, and the skill ceiling of getting every collectible (without hitting any obstacles, if you're truly hardcore) is significantly higher. This allows you to set your own goals and tailor your own difficulty curve. Since I'm an experienced Bit.Trip Runner player, I'm getting every collectible before moving on, but not requiring bonk-free runs - though note that the score combo system does grant higher scores to bonk-free runs, so if you want to show off your ability to do so on the leaderboards, you can!

Arnold levels are a legit bonus reward for getting the special medallion fragment collectibles, but also an optional source of additional gameplay and challenge if you enjoy them. I've seen some reviews call out these levels as their least favorite, but if you don't like them you can basically skip them and still get a reward. I've grown to like all the play styles, and I actually prefer Arnold levels to Woolie ones.

There's nearly four times as much content as there appears to be at first glance. I'm expecting the game to take me about ten hours, which is pretty good for the price tag. People coming in without having played Bit.Trip Runner might have more room to practice and learn the skills, and thus get even more entertainment out of the game.

[lovelivingmydreams]

My king au headcannon Part two

So this is the follow up to this post  Which is a headcanon for this au created by @rondoel Enjoy!

Something to think about The king was meditating. He was trying to familiarize himself with the mindscape again, get a better feeling of it and see what his halves had done since the split. He was sorely disappointed. There were pages upon pages of ideas, but he found no evidence of them in the fantasy realm. No traces of the epic quests the ‘light’ half had envisioned, despite how well worked out they appeared. An ‘Ultimate Storytime’ should have left traces in the kingdom. Remus at least lived out his ideas even if they were only ever half formed and lacked substance beyond the initial impulse that brought them about. The results of these outbursts weren’t all that impressive either. He didn’t examine the ideas too closely. Obviously his perfectionistic half had abandoned them for a reason and so they weren’t worth his time. The one named Roman had spent some time in the fantasy realm, but he didn’t considered it his main duty. Instead he’d wasted time on crafting ‘ideas’ and ‘bonding’ with the others. Even the impulsive Remus had prioritized interacting with Deceit over expressing himself. Disgusting. Not that he could truly fault either of his halves. Other than his purpose every trace of him had been purged from their minds during the split. They hadn’t known to distrust the others the way he knew they should’ve. Obviously the others were to blame for all this.

As he thought of them he could feel his minister’s energy surging and subsiding in subtle burst and raging waves. One of Roman’s nickname for him ‘Stormy Knight’ seemed to suit the boy quite well at the moment. The minister was mostly alone, aside from morality. Someone had to babysit him he supposed. Suddenly he became aware of music… something strange yet familiar. “Disney. Medley.” A faint memory offered him. He remembered Disney. It was his aspiration to create worlds and adventures just as amazing for Thomas to escape to when the real world inevitably bored him. Clearly he hadn’t been gone long enough for that to change. Though he didn’t recognize the melody that was currently playing, even though he could tell that it wasn’t something obscure and nearly forgotten to Thomas. The entire imagination responded to the melody as if it was an old friend. Almost as if it was born here even. There were voices singing, a magnificent harmony. Powerful and foreboding. He followed the sound of the voices and soon saw a structure appear. As he approached he found it was a massive statue expertly carved from marble. Center stage stood a figure he recognized as Thomas holding his hands in front of him to form a heart. A brilliant smile on his face. It was heartwarming to see his boy like that. To Thomas’ left stood grown Morality with one arm thrown over his shoulder and another pulling the hooded side, Anxiety, his minister, into the group. The young side allowed it with a small smirk and gentle eyes directed at their protégé. On Thomas’ right stood Logic, a steady hand on the boy’s shoulder as he adjusted his glasses, which did not conceal the fond look on the man’s face. On Logic’s right stood Deceit, his back slightly turned to the rest and adjusting his hat, but also with a soft, caring expression gracing his features. Then right behind Thomas, standing slightly taller than they would have in reality, seemingly standing on a stage behind the group, but close enough to still be part of the ensemble, was him. Or the two sides that had been him for a while. Roman looked regal and was posing as though he had not a care in the world, his eyes proudly overseeing his subjects. Not minding the presence of Remus who was hanging of his ‘brother’s’ shoulders and making a face. It was an idyllic picture that never was and now never could be. There was beauty in it’s tragic impossibility. At the feet of the stone depictions were stone letters. Fam in cursive and then in big bold lines ILY. And leaning against the L was the minister, singing the song that had lured King away from his meditation. The shadows around him were aiding in his musical endeavor drifting around him and the statue. King took in the marvel once more, wondering how the nervous side had managed to create such a blessing with what should’ve been a cruel curse for at least a few more days before King would grant the young one his council and guidance. He hadn’t enjoyed being cruel to him. Not entirely. Sure, he had opposed creativity in the past and deserved to be disciplined. But king also knew how integral he was to the process. Roman’s discoveries regarding that weren’t lost to him. He couldn’t silence Anxiety completely. He would not get Thomas to go on adventures at all if he did so. But he had to teach him his place now, before he got any ideas of fighting him. The minister had been about to try just that and might have been successful too if he’d gone all out at once. But luckily he seemed unaware of his own abilities, or at least unwilling to use them on what he still thought to be the twins he’d known all his life. Alas he’d never get the opportunity again. “It all can be sold!” the shadows chorused around the teen-like side, captivating baby Morality with their movements as the little one clutched to the dark uniform and distracting King from his musings. “As a specimen yes I’m intimidating!” One voice continued, drifting around the side who was swaying to the music playing in his headphones with his eyes closed, holding onto Morality and then the dark clad side sang himself. “You can blame my friends on the ooootheeeer siiiiiiiiiide.” And just like that the shadows dispersed. Mostly anyway. They still swirled around the minister, but they were more of a dark aura than when they originally manifested. Anxiety seemed to be in better spirits than when he came to offer his ridiculous apology to Roman. King barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the memory. What a waste of time. Still it had been sincere, at least it seemed to be. And King wasn’t completely insensitive. He could understand that it would be hard for this young one to let go of his halves when he had never known them as one. Perhaps, King could cut him a little slack. Though he would have to remain vigilant… Hmmm, why did that word feel so odd when thinking about… Right, Virgil. Everyone had names now. Not that he cared much for those. Names were too… Names were for friends, allies. He didn’t need a name, nor did his subjects. Lest any of them forget who was in charge. King wouldn’t. Never again. The infant noticed that they were no longer alone in the room and tugged at Anxiety’s hair to get his attention. In response Thomas’ guardian pulled off his headphones and looked down at the heart. “What’s wrong popstar… or… Well, doesn’t really fit right now I guess,” Anxiety chuckled a little sadly. “Guess I’m more the dad now than you, huh?” he mused. “When this is all over, I promise I’ll never complain about you treating me like your kid again.” There was an uneasiness forming in King’s stomach. Anxiety was close with Morality, both Roman and Remus remembered that. But… how close was Morality with Anxiety? King knew that their ‘moral compass’ could be as two faced as Deceit. No, this could be part of an elaborate plan to gain his trust, he’d fallen for it once before. And of course they’d send Anxiety to do their dirty work now that all of them had already shown him their true colors. Little Morality pointed at King and Anxiety looked up, curious at first and then his eyes widened in fear. He put the child behind him and stood in a strange mixture of a respectful bow and a defensive stance. Arms slightly spread to shield his friend and head raised so he didn’t quite let his eyes leave King’s frame. “I…I’m sorry if I was too loud,” Anxiety offered with trembling voice, assuming he’d angered his king someway. Good. King approached, not sure if he was in the mood to scold or to praise just yet, but stopped about three steps in front of Anxiety as his foot hit something. He looked down and saw that the floor surrounding his minister was covered in sketches. He looked up at Anxiety with a raised brow, curious to hear what had brought on this little storm of creativity. And he found him staring at the sketches around them in horror. Then he seemingly felt the structure behind him, he turned and looked up in horror, trembling even harder. He looked back at King with wide eyes. “I…I didn’t mean to…” he started. “Then I look forward to see what you create for me when you intend to do so young one,” King mutters calmly, as he bids one of the drawings to come to his hand. As far as he can tell it’s two children playing in a forest. “Tell me about this one boy,” he instructs as he shows Anxiety the drawing. The side takes the sketch with a frown and looks at it for a moment before a small smile of recognition appears on his face. “I’d manifested for about two months. Remus felt it was about time I came on an adventure,” he starts explaining, and as he does the drawing rises up and gains colors and details that weren’t there before. Anxiety didn’t seem to notice, too captivated by his own memory as he described how freaked out he was by the forest and all its creepy creatures. Remus never let a single one touch him though. Still, it was stressful for him and he didn’t come along as often as Remus would like. The painting showed two preteens, Remus and Anxiety, the later clutching a comfort item, pillow or blanket, King wasn’t sure, maybe it was a stuffed animal. They were running around and laughing. But in their shadows Anxiety was curled up in a ball and Remus was making a gesture as if he’d just popped out and screamed ‘boo’. A lovely memory with a shadow side. But that was the nicest thing Anxiety could create with the power King had granted. Once the story was done and the painting finished, King snapped his fingers and conjured a dark wooden frame with a vine pattern around it and hung it on a non-existent wall. “I’m sorry, I know you said to get rid of the feelings, but I… I can’t… I always mess up like this please I…” Anxiety flinched when King reached out for him. Curling into himself, expecting another curse or some other punishment perhaps. Which is probably why his posture relaxed and his face was overcome with confused surprise when all he received was a brief pat on his hair. “You may not have gotten rid of those feelings but you did something even better,” King laid a hand on Anxiety’s shoulder and looked down on him. “You made something out of them. I am very pleased with you,” he informed his disciple. Anxiety looked up at him confused. “Really?” he asked, his voice breaking over the single word. Before King could answer, a displeased cooing pulled Anxiety’s attention away. He turned around and picked up the infant who immediately latched onto his neck and stared at King over his shoulder. Clearly the infant retained enough of Morality’s adult thoughts to be wary of him. Good it wouldn’t be a proper curse if the traitor wasn’t aware of the danger King posed to him and his precious family. King grinned menacingly at Morality, hoping it’d confirm the child’s worst fears about his intentions for who he apparently considered a son. What could be worse than agonizing over the fact that your sins would result in an innocent paying for them? For that innocent to be your child of course. “Please Pat, behave alright?” Anxiety muttered as he got up and turned back to the king. “Sorry… Your majesty. He’s a bit clingy,” the young man offered nervously. “Not your fault. I don’t quite understand why Logic and Deceit would leave the care for such a fussy child to their youngest.” Not quite true, King could perfectly see how they thought they had to concentrate on finding a weapon against him that they hadn’t tried already. But still. One would think that the two oldest should be in charge of protecting both their young ones, instead of letting them wander off into the territory of their enemy. If Anxiety had failed to entertain him with his tale, who knows what he would’ve done to amuse himself during this second visit? Maybe he’d put morality in a bit of a dilemma… He might still do so if he ever needed for Anxiety to see that his ‘dad’ didn’t love him as much as he always claimed. “Taking care of him keeps my mind occupied. I don’t want to give Thomas nightmares or anxiety attacks. He doesn’t deserve to suffer for our messes,” Anxiety explained. King might be mistaken, but that almost sounded accusatory. He elected to ignore it. Once his rule was properly reestablished, he could revisit the subject if at all necessary, which he doubted. “Well, creating art seems to do the trick just as well,” he mused as he called forth another picture. Anxiety guessed what he wanted, looked at the picture and started to talk about the movie night and a popcorn fight, then a duel with cardboard swords and laughing about memories of middle school. The colors once again revealed a pleasant day, with a shadow of self-doubt and fear of abandonment. The shadows showed Anxiety pleading on his knees while Roman threatened him with a sword. This time the frame King made was golden and held roses. “C…Can I ask something milord,” Anxiety asked timidly. “Questions are always welcomed in the realm of creativity,” King decreed. Questions created possibilities. “What happened? Before the split I mean? The other’s won’t ever tell me.” That surprised King. And from the way Morality stiffened, he had to assume it was the truth. They’d really not taken the chance to sway Anxiety’s opinion in their favor? For a moment he considers spinning a grand tale of betrayal and heartbreak, but he found the very thought of recalling the details of the events leading up to the split… unpleasant. “I trusted them and they turned against me because they disagreed with my vision for Thomas,” he informed Anxiety calmly, hoping it was enough for now. “I’m sorry. That… That is terrible,” he whispered hugging Morality closer. The young minister couldn’t see it but there were tears in Morality’s eyes. Which pleased King. Let the bespectacled traitor be afraid this may end up being the last hug he’ll ever receive from his precious Anxiety. Was this why they didn’t tell him? Because they knew that there was no spin they could give to their deeds that wouldn’t destroy the trust they’d built with the one among them who already feared being betrayed. “I… It was a long time ago. I think… Logan seemed very ashamed of what happened. Even Janus seems to feel bad. I’m sure… can’t we all…” Anxiety struggled to express his desires, but a new drawing showed what he wanted. King and Logic shaking hands amidst the others, all back to normal and smiling relieved. Faint shadows of Roman and Remus with an arm around one another’s shoulders right behind King. The fact that his minister’s powers had conjured it showed that the desire felt impossible. King dismissed this drawing in favor of another. Anxiety sighed, accepting that the subject was finished, and continued to regale him with stories of the twins. Sometimes it was a sad memory where the shadows revealed his care and worry for them both. Like a fight over a failed audition where shadow Anxiety was trying to patch up shadow Roman. Or a fight about a nightmare where the shadow of Anxiety was embracing Remus. Then memories of the other’s came. A debate about negative thoughts where shadow Logic laid a hand on shadow Anxiety’s shoulder as a gesture of pride. A staring match with Deceit but their shadows were reaching for each other. One memory had no shadows. The ‘lights’ were in Anxiety’s domain and reaching out for him as he sat huddled in on himself on the ground. The image was conflicted enough on it’s own. Then King picked up a drawing of Morality. “That’s the first time you came to talk to me remember Pat?” Virgil coed to the child who’d been rather quiet during the creation of this gallery. Anxiety recalled how he’d been upset about another fight with Roman and he’d come over and sat with him in silence. Then he’d offered him one of his cookies. It had surprised Anxiety, he knew how much Morality loved his cookies. Sharing one was his standard gesture of love and appreciation. But Anxiety felt like he didn’t deserve either at the time. He felt trapped in a role he didn’t want to play. And because of Morality talking to him that day, for the first time, he thought that maybe he didn’t have to be. Anxiety talked more about how the thought was quickly dismissed as unrealistic but King found that it was hard to focus. The colors revealed a painting of a side being offered a hand by Morality. He didn’t even notice the shadows this time. It was like he was trapped in his own memories. Then suddenly, he was back in the present and heard something beside him. A wailing child and someone gasping for air like they’d ran a marathon at full speed. He looked down and found Anxiety curled up in a ball, rocking back and forth with a crying Morality sitting next to him clutching onto his arm. Before he could wonder what had happened he could feel the others approaching at high speed. He stepped back, not wanting to be found too close to the distressed side. He could not allow them to think for even a moment, that he felt a second of worry for the minister. He didn’t, but he didn’t need the implications of such a show of weakness to bring his strength into question. “Patton! Virgil!” Deceit called out, causing Morality to calm down and just let out a few more sniffles. King set up a disinterested mask and turned to the approaching sides. “Oh good, deal with this. They bore me,” he drawled calmly as he stepped aside. He was barely acknowledged which he normally would take offense in, but he’d let it slide until he knew what had happened just now. And if it had anything to do with that terrible feeling that had struck him when he saw Anxiety’s drawing. Logic kneeled next to Anxiety and Deceit spoke with Logic’s voice. “Virgil, can you hear us?” The boy nodded. “May we touch you?” Another nod and Logic placed his hands on the side’s shoulders. “Breath Virgil, in for 4, hold for 7 out for 8, you can do it.” One more nod and the side started to follow the rhythm that was tapped on his shoulders, stuttering trough the 4th count of holding his breath. “That’s alright, try again.” King observed as the two patiently helped Anxiety to breathe normally again. Somewhere along the line the troubled side started to whisper ‘sorry,’ and ‘so stupid’. “You are not stupid, your feelings are valid and we are here to help you with them. We shouldn’t have left you on your own. Especially not with him around,” Deceit growled, now in his own voice, before turning to King. “I don’t care what you do to me, but leave Virgil out of this! He has nothing to do with this.” Before king could retort. Claim the responsibility and remind Deceit that he’ll play with his minister however he likes, the boy spoke up himself. “Not his fault. Just, random attack,” he muttered. Deceit and King looked down and found Anxiety holding onto Logic with Morality trying his best to stand on wobbly legs while holding onto the purple sash adorning the minster uniform. Logic and Morality were staring at him accusatory, but Anxiety was pleading with Deceit. “You don’t have to defend him Virgil. We know what he’s like… And we’ll do a better job at protecting you now. I swear. Let us look out for you for once, please,” Deceit pleaded. So interesting. For all Anxiety’s fears of being abandoned and betrayed, the others seemed to fear for his safety before their own. Had they changed? Or had Anxiety not yet given them sufficient reason to be muzzled? Or was it his drastic decision of muzzling himself that had made them cautious of messing with his part of their duties? “I’m not. Jan look at me. You’d know if I was lying. He was just listening to me. He didn’t do anything bad. I promise.” Deceit frowned confused. “He didn’t do this to harm you? To cause you to create…” Finally Deceit really looked at what King and Anxiety had been working on and the statue Anxiety had done all by himself. “Virgil what…” “I don’t know, I was listening to music and all this just sort of happened. His majesty was helping me finish some drawings,” he explained, confusing King. Was he… what’s the term? Covering for him? Then Anxiety got up, picking up Morality and looking at Logic who followed his movements, hands hovering around him. As if he were afraid that the younger side would fall apart at any moment. “Please, just go back alright, I’ll be fine. Thanks for helping but you should focus on making sure Thomas is alright,” Anxiety explained bravely, not quite looking at the others. Had recalling all his doubts and fears made him suspicious of the others? This could benefit King greatly. “Run along now. And take Morality. I have matters to discuss with my minister. In private,” King informed Logic and Deceit. Anxiety looked from King back to his tutor and confidant and offered him Morality. Logic shook his head with wide eyes. “Logan, it’s alright. You look after Pat for a minute. I’ll be back soon. Just… Please trust me?” Logic hesitated, sighed in defeat and took the child. He moved to leave, but paused. He turned and laid a hand on Anxiety’s shoulder, a moment passed while the two held each other’s gaze. Anxiety nodded and patted Logic’s hand. “I will be safe. When am I ever not?” Something that would have been a chuckle rippled through Logic’s chest as he stepped away and started walking back to the commons, glancing back every ten steps or so. “Virgil… I…” Deceit started, unable to finish the thought. “I know. I’ll be okay.” And with that final assurance and a distrustful look towards King the last of the traitors left. “Why?” King wondered. It seemed obvious to him that whatever Anxiety just went through was actually meant for him. And not only had he taken the hit, he had covered for him as well. “I’m anxiety, taking on the insecurities and fears of the others is part of my job. I don’t take it all, just the really bad bits when I can take it. And… it took me forever to open up to the others about my own attacks. It wasn’t my place to share about yours. It’s nothing personal. Just me being professional I guess,” he shrugged casually. King allowed himself a small smirk and once again reached out to pat Anxiety’s hair. Once more the boy’s first instinct was to flinch, but he still let him do as he pleased. “Well done my boy. You have potential,” he told him before returning his attention to another drawing, leaving the one of Morality frameless. Later he might tell the little one a bit more about the betrayal. But first. He needed to get to know him better. “Now how about this one.”Being petted like a dog was degrading, humiliating. Trying to not just be civil towards him but formal and respectful was torture. But it was better than what he feared would happen every time the King moved his hand towards him. Virgil didn’t like being changed against his will and this king would do as he pleased with him. Which is why he had to keep him happy and away from the others. He ignored the urge to smile every time he received the king’s praise. He is not going to develop Stockholm Syndrome just because off a few half-baked complements. This guy is still a threat to Thomas… Even if the others, maybe made a mistake in the past and have a hard time owning up to that right now. Fact remained that Virgil’s job was to keep everyone safe. That meant making them not want to decapitate the king over an anxiety attack he hadn’t triggered on purpose. Still… What had triggered the attack?

[ruined-my-dramatic-entrance]

Hat’s Off to You

Platonic fluff, a bit silly or OOC but not a crackfic lol, 1659 words TW: S!Janus

“What’s going on here?” Patton asked as he popped up.

 After rolling his eyes and a moment of hesitation, Virgil replied, “Princey brought up some dumb idea about Janus having some weird secret hidden under his hat and now he and Logan are debating it.”

 “Well, what’s all hat about?” the moral side inquired further with a grin.

 Though Patton had expected Virgil to at least smirk at this, the latter instead protested, “Please, just get them to stop for now or something…”

 “Okay, kiddo. Sorry about Pat — uh, I mean that,” Patton corrected himself quickly before turning his attention to the other two.

 “I still think it’s probably something weird and evil, like some devil’s horns or — or pointed ears,” Roman insisted, gesturing to the vague areas that those body parts would be placed on himself.

 “If Janus were to be hiding something underneath his hat — which I still have very significant doubts about — then it would probably be a result of his half-snake composition, such as a lack of hair on that side of his head, covered by scales,” Logan chimed in with an even tone.

 “Well, yeah, maybe, but it still could be something… much more sinister that reveals how Thomas truly visualizes Deceit in his mind,” the prince suggested with a deep curiosity.

 “Wouldn’t that be you, Roman?” Patton asked with an innocent smile.

 “Wha—? No, I’m not a liar! I’m an actor but I am not Deceit,” Roman dismissed, clearly offended.

 “No, that’s not what I meant, and I was talking about Janus, not evil,” Patton said, subtly reminding Roman to be kinder about the side in question. “I meant that the way Thomas views Deceit as a concept would be your creativity, kiddo,” he explained.

 Roman paused for a moment. “I… suppose you’re right,” he agreed.

 “That would make sense, though it would still have the influence of how Thomas feels about the concept of Deceit in genera—” Logan tried to elaborate, but was cut off by Roman.

 “By Artemis’s beautiful bow, I think I know!” the creative side exclaimed with a wide gesture.

 “You’ve… decided on a guess?” Logan prompted, frowning slightly in curiosity and pushing his glasses backwards as he scanned Roman with his eyes.

 “Oh, brother, what is it now?” Virgil groaned, pulling his hood up over his head.

 “That’s the spirit! What do you think, Roman?” Patton encouraged excitedly.

 “Wolf ears,” Roman answered simply, as if the answer was obvious.

 “Uh… might’ve misheard you there, Kiddo,” Patton fretted, leaning in a bit closer in hopes of understanding Roman’s words better.

 “That… is an interesting guess. I suppose I could see some reasoning for this,” Logan mused, placing his knuckle against his lips in thought.

 “Please tell me you’re not actually considering this, dude,” Virgil pleaded, pulling his sleeves over his hands.

 “No, no, I’m serious!” Roman persisted, holding out his hands in a “wait” gesture. “From my best understanding of how Thomas views deception, he gets consistently stuck on the phrase ‘wolf in sheep’s clothing’ and sometimes he imagines liars as having certain wolf traits,” he finally explained. “Though, he usually only does that past 3am,” he added with a slight shrug before looking towards the rest of the group for approval.

 “In addition to that, Janus does seem to... work alone, if you will, with his varying goals for Thomas — a lone wolf, perhaps,” Logan elaborated, “Wolves are also regarded for their intelligence and have very complicated social dynamics, maybe tying into Janus’s ability to use charisma to his advantage. Symbolically, wolves are also regarded as confident, which he definitely exhibits.”

 “Come on, you don’t actually think Janus would have something as… as stupid as that,” Virgil disagreed, rubbing the back of his neck. Logan narrowed his eyes at the way he stumbled over his words.

 “Virgil, I expected you to be less… concerned about this matter — furthermore, to mock him for it,” the logical side deduced, tilting his head slightly in confusion. “So… either you’re embarrassed about something similar or something is wrong here,” he declared, causing the room to fall silent for a few seconds.

 “What’s wrong with Virge, Logan? Don’t just leave it all… ominous like that! It’s scary,” Patton fretted, looking at the side in question with worry.

 At that moment, Virgil showed up, shoving aside the “Virgil” that had been there before, who was pushed into the wall and reverted back into his true form.

 “Did someone say ‘scary?’” Virgil asked nonchalantly, giving Patton a quick glance before returning to glaring at Janus.

 “Deceit!!” Logan yelled, pointing at Janus.

 “Yes, yes, we’ve noticed, Logan, no need to sound the alarm, especially not so loudly,” Janus remarked.

 “Virgil!” Patton and Roman exclaimed in unison with smiles.

 “What was he doing here? What did he say?” Virgil asked, voice serious and impatient.

 “Nothing much! Since I got here, he was just denying some of Roman and Logan’s theories about what’s under his hat,” Patton recounted.

 “Yes, padre is right; that’s all the snake has done, nothing particularly evil or sinister,” Roman confirmed with a slight nod as if his valiant watch had kept Janus in check, whereas in reality he hadn’t really noticed.

 Virgil snickered. “You mean ‘cause he’s insecure about this?” he asked with a mischievous smile as he managed to snatch Janus’s hat, revealing a pair of… dark wolf ears.

 “Hah! I knew it! I called it! That was me, I was right. Got it before Logan,” Roman announced proudly before clearing his throat awkwardly and growing quiet to listen.

 “Only because it was your interpretation of symbolism,” Logan muttered under his breath, petty.

 “Aww, you’re like a teddy bear!” Patton commented with a gasp, “Or a puppy! Why would you hide this? We wouldn’t make fun of you for something so cute and nonthreatening!” He paused suddenly, realizing that he had just spoken the exact reason. “Ohh…” He grimaced slightly in guilt.

 “Yes, well, isn’t this lovely. This is exactly what I wanted, Virgil, thank you,” Janus complained in annoyance, shooting the man in question a pointed look. “It’s obvious that this is totally a part of myself that I like and wanted to share with the group.”

 “Janus, we won’t make fun of you for it, especially if you’re so insecure about it,” Patton reassured, looking around the room for agreement and receiving nods from everyone… as well as muffled snickers from Roman and Virgil.

 “Grandma, what big ears you have,” Roman murmured quietly under his breath, unable to resist the temptation.

 “What does it matter anyway? It’s clear I’m viewed as but a beast or a — a monstrous creature. Why would words make that any different?” Janus retorted to Patton, both his eyes and his phrasing giving away his hidden sadness.

 “Well, Janus, you of all sides should understand the power that words can hold,” Logan reminded tersely.

 “Regardless, Thomas could have at least chosen something scarier rather than just… an amalgamation of different animal symbols out of confusion,” Janus griped, gesturing into the air in frustration.

 “Weird is better than scary if it’s constant. Trust me on this one,” Virgil insisted, though his expression turned to one of slight… sympathy?

 “Trust isn’t exactly my strong suit,” Deceit responded, casting an unpleasant glance across the rest of the room. “I wonder why?” he added sarcastically.

 “It’s not my department either but…” Virgil trailed off, sighing. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this to you of all people,” he muttered. “But… I know what it’s like to feel different and unnecessary and — and like you’re built to just be weird, to just be the outcast,” he admitted, avoiding looking into the half-snake’s eyes. “I know what it’s like but… it’s not like that here, not with them. Not with us,” he assured, fiddling with his sleeves.

 “I think we all owe Janus an apology,” Patton pointed out. “I’m sorry for not respecting your privacy,” he said, looking at the aforementioned man with empathy.

 “I apologize for my earlier behavior. I was curious but not considerate,” Logan chimed in concisely.

 “I… suppose I’m sorry too,” Roman agreed, though he opened his mouth to say something else and closed it a moment later.

 “I guess I shouldn’t have… done that,” Virgil mumbled, handing Janus his hat back. “But you shouldn’t have impersonated me either.”

 “Very well, very well… I’m sorry for taking your place and deceiving you,” Janus replied, “though it did take them quite a while to catch on…”

 “It is indeed odd that Janus’s impersonation of you is much more accurate than of me or Patton,” Logan commented, frowning again in contemplation.

 “And that Virgil already knew about Janus’s ears,” Roman added, looking at Virgil in confusion.

 “Well, I —” Virgil began nervously.

 “— The little brat has done this before, you see,” Janus excused as he interrupted the anxious side. “It was terribly irritating,” he recalled about the false event, examining his nails through his gloves. “And yes, I’m afraid that the emo is the simplest to mimic -- it’s dreadfully easy,” he mocked, though said emo looked up at him when he realized that Janus had just… covered for him and his past as a dark side. That was not anywhere near what Virgil had expected.

 “Ah, that would make sense,” Logan accepted with a slight nod.

 “I, for one, still can’t decide whether his fluffy little ears are scary or, uh, adorable,” Roman admitted.

 Janus scoffed and examined his nails through his glove. “If you’re disturbed by this, wait until you find out what Remus hides under his mustache,” he pointed out.

 After a beat of silence, every other side in the room turned to him in a mixture of surprise, fear, and disgust, all exclaiming some variation of “hold up,” “wait,” or “what?!” Except for Patton, who simply remarked, “Well, I suppose we must-ask him later” with a chuckle.

[forestfanders]

Birds of a feather - pt 3 Emoticons

A long list of injuries on the page, and a longer list of potential responses to their trauma. Working out how to treat the pair of tiny humanoid avians was going to be a challenge, but it is one Logan and Patton are determined to meet. Pt 2: Roman tests the boundaries of this new place. whump, hurt/comfort and dehumanisation <3 wingfic tw: animal abuse, mention of burns and neglect AO3 link

chapter 1/ chapter 2/ 

The bird man had given Patton the most adorable little wave, and the therapist had felt his heart break a little more.

The pair had been a mess. Their tiny bodies were swamped with bandages, but most harrowing was the wariness in their postures. Princey’s eyes had been clouded with fear, but held a longing to interact, to answer Patton’s questions. Patton just knew there was an outgoing free spirit under there, just waiting to be given permission to shine beneath the fear he had been subjected to. And Anxiety had lived up to his name. The poor kiddo had been practically catatonic in a dissociative fugue, but Patton knew that with a good environment and plenty of reassurance, he too could find peace.

When he looked at them, Patton knew he wanted to protect them.

And he had a plan.

Step one was to get them feeling a bit more secure. Remy had mentioned the pair weren’t eating, weren’t speaking, weren’t doing much of anything in their frightening new surroundings filled with uncertainty. And so Patton had talked gently to the other sick animals in the room, reassuring them, and carefully laying the groundwork for a conversation with the avians. And it seemed to have worked: while not exactly comfortable, they were able to pay attention to what he was saying.  

Step two was to get them actually eating and looking after themselves. After what had seemed a gargantuan feat of bravery, Princey had managed to eat some chicken. Logan had stealthily wandered past a couple of hours later and had sighted Anxiety tackling a large piece of spinach, so there was hope that he too was now eating.

The next steps were to find a temporary home for them, work out some habitat enrichment to keep them entertained, and finally, to introduce enough human interaction to help them on their way to long-term psychological recovery and a forever home.

Patton had been picking at ‘creating a welcoming home for your avian’ and ‘cute toys for bird bois’ articles since he had got home. He put another round of notes in the haphazard googledoc he was compiling. He wanted to do the very best he could for them, but it was starting to get overwhelming.

-88888-

It was only 7:58, but Logan couldn’t wait the extra 2 minutes to text Patton tonight. His brain would not switch off from the events of the day, could not be swayed from the conundrum that was the animal rescue’s latest arrivals. He may be breaking his standard evening routine texting early, but tonight it was necessary.

Logie Bearry Jam: Good evening Patton, how was your dinner?

He sent the text, and picked up the blanket he was crocheting, trying to lose himself in the movement of the hook and the weaving of the wool until Patton replied back.

Pattoncakes: tofu and carrot stir fry with rice 🥕🍚😍🥰😇🍽️✨👻😽

Logan smiled internally at Patton's enthusiastic use of emojis. While in others the behaviour may have been grating, with Patton, it was just another outlet of the man’s effervescence.

Logie Bearry Jam: that sounds delicious. I had pasta with tomato sauce. I liked it.

These texts were a ritual, the same kind of message Logan sent every night. Peace washed into his veins.

Patton shot off a gif of the spaghetti scene from Lady and the tramp.

Pattoncakes: Spagooto🍝👨🍳sounds good! What are you up to tonight?

Logie Bearry Jam:: I am crocheting a blanket. How about you?

Pattoncakes: 🐥🐥💞🤕I have been reading a lil bit about our newest arrivals <3.

And there was the perfect opportunity to sway the conversation in the direction of his current worries. It was understandable that Patton would also be worrying about the same subject, and yet he suspected Patton knew he was worrying about the avians as well. Logan knew many people saw him as unfeeling. But Patton understood. He was good like that.

Logie Bearry Jam: I too have been thinking of the avains. Have you read anything interesting?

Patton sent a link to a google doc filled with links and notes.

Logan threw himself in.

For such delicate pets as humanoid avians, the information on how to look after them was muddied and mixed up, torn between the reality of what they were and what owners wished them to be. Dolls, children, highly-trainable, simple animals, held to the behavioural standards of adults, there was a mishmash of conflicting ideas.

Patton’s notes were in the early draft stage, filled with questions and ideas. He was not as focused on medical concerns Logan, instead choosing to consider a wide range of issues. He outlined every issue well, and had the therapeutic knowledge to challenge false behavioural information.

The document was beautiful.

Logan and Patton’s work rarely intertwined, and so it was rare that Logan got to see this side of the therapy worker. The side that was intelligent in his kindness, the thought process behind his ability to make people feel safe. Logan marveled anew at the incredible man his co-worker was, how capable, how eloquent...

What a joy to be a friend to a man like that.

Logan abandoned his crochet hook in preference of giving his laptop his full attention. They sent back and forth all manners of articles from owners tips to scientific studies. Taking in data, and weaving it into a usable care plan, evaluating all with a vets knowledge and a therapist’s experience.

They danced between information together, shifting through articles. It was so much more fun with Patton (metaphorically) by his side.

Logie Bearry Jam: Perhaps their enclosure can be moved to the vet’s office so that they can get used to humans coming and going, and so we can keep a close eye on them.

Pattoncakes: the vets office is pretty busy! Maybe once they settle a bit more. But right now i think that would be a bit scary

Pattoncakes: maybe the small animal room?

Logie Bearry Jam: It is the correct conditions in there for them.

Pattoncakes: aww and they can watch the bunnies playing!

Pattoncakes: I always find them fun to watch when i am sad

Logie Bearry Jam: Watching the rabbits would also be restful enrichment.

A gif of a happy rabbit running wildly around a room appeared on his screen, before swiftly being superseded by a barrage of twitching noses, floppy ears and bouncing bunnies.

Pattoncakes:  i also like taking my laptop in sometimes for paperwork, so i can pop in for a lil lovin socialisation too

He smiled at the mental image of Patton camped out on the floor of the rabbit room, trying to focus on work while Ted Bunndey ate his notebooks. Logan sincerely doubted much work would be completed. But Patton did indeed make for the very finest socialisation.

Pattoncakes: aaaw there are so many cute toys on the market for Avian humanoids!

Pattoncakes: so expensive though

Pattoncakes: look at this!

He sent a photograph of some over-the-top prince outfit aimed at owners with more money than sense.

Pattoncakes: Princey would look so cute in this!

Pattoncakes: I don’t suppose it is the kind of thing the avians would actually enjoy though *a sticker with a confused looking pink bear*

Logie Bearry Jam: It is doubtful, though some do enjoy it the way many children enjoy imitating their parents. I believe it to be unsanitary at this stage in their recovery, but if they do express a wish to wear garments it is not unhealthy to do so.

Pattoncakes: you could crochet them matching jumpers!  ;P

Logan and Patton wove a plan together. A shining roadmap, flexible but comprehensive. Something that accounted for their physical recovery and mental capabilities. Rules on how to treat them to build trust, further the concept that they were safe. Ways to let them confirm that they would not be touched without permission, that play did not warrant punishment, that there would always be food.

Their web of plans completed, Logan picked up his crochet hook and resumed working on his blanket, the weight gone from his chest. Their conversation pooled into its regular comfortable flow, chatting back and forth about their respective days at work and discussion of mundane things. It was with regret Logan initiated his goodnight messages and deployed his customary goodnight sticker of a sleepy light blue bear with glasses that reminded him a bit of Patton. Patton sent his customary bombardment of illogical stickers and gif which tonight included a pair of canaries hopping around a bowl of water, a dragon with hearts for eyes, and a psychedelic goat.

-88888-

In the recovery room of the Animal shelter’s vet clinic, Virgil sat holding a peanut.

The room was almost dark now, the only light the soft glow of a nightlight in the corner that had been left on for them..

He had eaten 6 peanuts, several spinach leaves, and 4 ½ cubes of glorious chicken.

Roman was asleep behind him, his own hunger sated. Opposite them, a pair of rabbits munched hay. The mewling cat had been returned to her owners. It was quiet in the vets now.

Cautiously, he touched his stomach over the bandages. It gurgled happily beneath his fingers.

Virgil smiled.

===

Aaaand the emojis have not worked for the second half of the fic. Oh well, imagine Patton as the emoji fiend he is.

masterlist    next chapter

But Virgil eats a peanut! Yay XD This chapter is a lil shippy for you <3 Patton's texting is inspired by my girlfriend who is just the cutest emoji-wielding dork to walk the world. And while the fic will not focus much on romance, the carers deserve some soft times.

[crystalk17]

Understanding Along With Secrets/ Mouse Of a Time

Thomas and Virgil talk about the events that transpired. Virgil practices to control his shifting powers. He also stumbles into a place that was a bit too tempting for him leading to some more mischeif and another secret.

I am open to Prompts and questions for or about the Sides in this story. Please I encourage you to share my post. Gets the story out there.

Master post: Click Here There are two other Chapters! 

Warning: Moments of anxiety, fear, self doubt, falling from a heigh distance.

Thomas and Virgil sat in the hallway together for the longest time, at least they thought so. Neither of them spoke or moved from that spot for what felt like an eternity. In reality it was only about ten minutes. Virgil remained on Thomas’ s shoulder for half of that time, just trying to process the whole scene that just played out between them. Thomas did all he could to make sure he wasn’t staring at his friend while he processed the whole situation. He looked at his hands, he looked up at the ceiling trying to count the lines from cracks or just missed plater. He even started to plan out his next video, until he was brought out of his thoughts by Virgil moving his head from his shoulder. He waited patiently for anything to come from Virgil. A sigh. Anger. Even rambling would have been better than this awkward silence. After looking down at the ground for a time, Thomas decided enough was enough. Virgil had to talk.

“ Sooo you can transform too?” Thomas wanted to hit himself in the head because of the stupid yet obvious question that just emanated from his lips. “ Your and animal too?” how dumb could he be, but it seemed to do the trick. “ In all honesty it only started recently. At the beginning I was human, like the...others. Then one day it just happened.”

Thomas remained sitting down on the ground, but looked over to the dark ego beside him. “ What were you doing?”

“ Well, I was frustrated after talking to Deceit.”

“ Yeah that will do it...but you never answered my question.”

Virgil looked over in confusion, trying to think back to Thomas finding him in his animal form.

“ I asked you why you didn’t tell us.”

In all honesty, he didn’t want to seem stupid in front of his creator. He knew deep down that Thomas would never look down on him, but there was always that fear in the back of his mind. He could only think of replying with a few select and simple words. “ I’m not ready.”

Thomas stood up, using his legs mostly, and the wall to stabilize his body. Once his feet were firmly on the ground he looked behind him, extending a hand. Virgil has always felt the most accepted by Thomas, ( Close behind is Patton), but at this moment all he could do was smile. Thomas found out the one secret he didn’t want anyone to find out because of fear and anxiety ( Big surprise), and when he gave an answer such as “ I’m not ready.” Thomas was still accepting. Thomas understood better than anyone that fear can prevent the obvious and cloud judgment, so he was not going to make it worse by pressuring. He was literally offering a hand to help Virgil along his path and not judge. Virgil grabbed Thomas’ s hand and felt his body being pulled up from his sitting position off the ground. “ Well, if you're not ready, you're not ready. Just no more secrets from me. Alright?”

Virgil looked intently into Thomas’s face to see if there was any ill intent or Deception. But there was none. He genuinely and honestly just wanted to help Virgil out. “ Alright.” ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The days that followed this event were...complicated...well, more messy, then complicated.

Virgil decided after this day he would have to make sure he was not put in this situation ever again. This was easier, but only in some aspects. Unlike Thomas, the other sides could call upon each other, but they were not forced to appear. For example, if Patton called upon Virgil, Virgil would hear the call in his head as if being played by echo, but it was his choice if he showed up. The problem was, to the other light sides, if you ignored a summon something was either wrong or you were being rude, and in Virgil’s situation it usually meant he was being rude. Then there was the fact of if Thomas called upon him again. He could never ignore Thomas, even if he was an animal.

Thomas promised to lay off on summoning him, but he couldn’t ignore is Anxiety, even if he wanted to. So there was only one solution. He had to work on his transformations.

Virgil brought the problem to Thomas hoping he could help out...to a point. Thomas expressed he hated lying to the other sides just to help Virgil, it made him feel too much like Deceit. Then there was the fact that if Thomas was too uncomfortable, Patton would be able to sense his uncomfortableness and lies. “ No. no. no.” Virgil explained very quickly. “ I don’t want you to lie. I would never want to put you through that. I can sense from here how uncomfortable you are with that. The only thing I want you to do is, if it comes down to it, distract the light sides. While I am practicing my shifting from animal to human you just point them to another direction.” He sighed because he could still sense the uneasiness emanating from Thomas. “ Look, if you have to tell them then go ahead, just give me time. Please.” As soon as he expressed his concern with Thomas and the fact he could pull the plug at any time if it came down to lying to keep his secret, Virgil just felt the anxiety wash over Thomas. The burden was lessened immediately. It was like a spirit exited Thomas and went to Virgil's body.

Thomas looked over at his personal dark side. “ I'll try to help you out as much as I can. Like you I can just feel how stressed and scared you are of telling the others. I don’t want you to have a panic attack just because your scared if I will tell your secret.”

Virgil jumped at Thomas suddenly, giving his body a hug of pure appreciation. Thomas stumbled back from the gesture but embraced his anxious side in a comforting way.

There must have been so much going on because Patton suddenly appeared in the room witnessing the interaction between Virgil and Thomas. His face lit up from seeing such a random interaction, especially since he had no idea why these two were ok with each other now. “ Oh my God. I knew you were able to do this Anxiety!” Patton jumped in on the attention, trying to join in on the heart being shared in the room.

As soon as Patton made contact with Virgil, he released Thomas and proceeded to fix his messed up purple hair. “ Patton. It’s Virgil. I have explained this to you before.”

“ I’m sorry. It’s just this is the first time I have seen you like this Virgil. You usually avoid us and sit alone kiddo.” Patton released Thomas and looked towards Virgil with a smile plastered on his face.

This was the first time he had a good look at Patton. He had that stupid looking cat hoody up, so he had cat ears on his head ( Ironic) and his eyes were gleaming like an Anime character. He was hopping up and down like a child. The emotions between Virgil and Thomas must have spiked Patton’s behavior to act more childish. “ Wait...Did you just call me Kiddo?” Virgil looked at him confused. “ Yah!... Is there a problem with that?” He tilted his head to the side like a dog would do. There it was. The animal attributes were starting to show through. “ No Patton. I’m fine with it.” Virgil knew by the way he was acting he was about to turn into his dog form. He figured if he just plasters a smile on his face and acts kind he would disappear to his mindscape room without problems. Well too late. Right there and then, Patton transformed into a Golden Retriever right in front of Virgil. His instincts kicked in to double time. All he could do was stare at the dog used to be Patton with fear.

Thomas could feel everything. The fear, anxiety, everything. He placed a hand on Virgil’s shoulder trying to get his attention. Virgil looked over at his Creator with confusion but looked down at Patton once more. “ It’s still Patton. It’s still Patton. Plus I am a human. Everything is fine.” He carefully and gently placed a hand on the dog’s awaiting head and pat it. Patton stuck his tongue out and was just as surprised by Virgil’s actions. He has never seen Virgil touch any of them. Virgil couldn’t take anymore. He disappeared into his mindscape room for privacy. -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Virgil from that day on, when Thomas was busy making videos unless he was needed, would work on his shifting. He figured out a long time ago, the light sides were most occupied when Thomas had a performance coming up or he was creating a video to post to YouTube. During those times Virgil would transform at will to his mouse self and wander around the mindscape and in Thomas’s house. To Virgil, if he got used to his animal form then maybe he could control it better.

The first few times Virgil stuck to wandering around his room. He wanted to make sure he was used to the bodies movements at first. He would practice by climbing up onto his desk then venturing further and further out. He would get from his desk, jump to his bed, then start by practicing his balance on his curtain rods and door frames. If he had to admit, this was an experience he was not used to. The first day he tried jumping from his desk to the bed, the simplest distance, he couldn’ t make his body jump far enough. He would tumble right off the edge. Virgil would back his body up, look around like something was in the room with him, then run. Well more like scurry, right off the edge. He would make a personal joke saying he felt like an airplane. A crashing airplane. The first time he plummeted he was scared to death. He backed his body up a few feet, then ran as fast as he could. Virgil could feel his little feet leave the hard surface and feel only air. He would close his eyes, since he was not prepared to see his own death, but opened them up at the wrong time. Poor Virgil felt his body abruptly stop soaring through the air and turn into a plummet. He had to open his eyes just to make sure he wasn’t tricking himself. He looked down, yelling in his head. If he could, he would cover his face with his hands, but of course you couldn’t really do that with paws while falling through the air. Virgil said a little prayer to himself just waiting for his death. This was it. His first time experimenting and because he was too ignorant to have someone watch him he was going to die. At least Thomas would no longer have anxiety in his life.

Virgil opened his eyes and realized his body collided with the ground...but he was ok. He found out later that day that Mice can fall up to twelve feet, sometimes twenty, and still be unscathed. Thank God for the resilience of mice. From that day on Virgil practiced, but made sure he had some type of surface under his body when he fell from high places.

For weeks Virgil practiced in his room. If one of the light sides started to ask questions, Thomas was nice enough to distract the others with his problems or their animal instincts. He decided while the four were working on the Video for the month he would wander around the Mindscape.

This was a big step for our little mouse. In his room he was safe. All sides knew to never just walk into his room without permission. Out there he could run into any of the other sides, but they were all occupied. Why would it matter? Virgil the mouse approached his door. Since he was still in the mindscape he could easily teleport if needed, and he needed it.

He landed in a hallway that looked exactly like the hallway Thomas found him in, except for one thing. There were four doors present. Each door led to a different Side’s room in the Mindscape. A person could tell who’s room it was by the decoration that was on the outside.

Virgil’s door was pitch dark purple, just like his sweatshirt and hair. All over the door were lightning bolts or storm clouds with lightning. Patton’s door was light blue, but he had hints of bright yellow emanating from the inside one could see through the cracks. There was a cat face drawn on the doorknob. Logan’s was a dark blue. He had a few papers that looked like they were stapled to the wood. If one looked closer the pages had formulas for science and math. Some pages were so full, that the equation had to leave the paper and be written on the door in black marker. Lastly, Roman had a door right beside Logan’s. It was bright red like it was just painted today. On the door was an elaborate painting. It was honestly a bigger version, that took up the whole door, of the patch on Roman’s arm. The outline was in Gold and the picture was of a castle on the water with a banner hanging over it all with the sun gleaming in the middle being the brightest yellow of all the yellow on the picture, and the biggest object on the door. Virgil rolled his eyes the best he could but was still curious. He had honestly never been in Roman’s room. He hasn't been in Logan’s either but figured it might be a typical lab looking bedroom. He was super curious about the Creative side. He was one he never really got close to. He was just too curious and this was a perfect opportunity. Virgil teleported himself into the Creative sides room. Inside honestly looked like a room made to imitate royalty at a hotel. Everything wasn’t exactly right, but the feeling was there.

There were pamphlets that were hanging up from Thomas’s previous performances since he was a kid. There were posters everywhere, basically announcing to the world Roman’s and Thomas’s favorite musicals and Disney movies. Surprisingly, there was a Nightmare Before Christmas blanket hanging up on the wall. “ Great taste.” Virgil thought.

Virgil scurried across the floor to the humongous bed that would contain one human. Virgil grabbed onto the bedsheet the best he could, (Paws) and scurried up to get a better view of his surroundings. There had to be more.

This took him some time since the bed was all tucked in and organized like a military personnel came in and straightened the room. Virgil kicked his back paws to adjust his body up onto the bed. In reality he was out of breath, but all that came out was a few squicks of innocence. The mouse laid his body down on the mattress, curling his tail in on his body and tried to look around, but froze. Behind him he could hear the soft snores of something bigger. A lot bigger than him. He turned his head to only have a cat’s body take up his field of vision. A grey and white cat to bed exact.

“ What is he doing here!? Isn’t he suppose to be helping Thomas?! He’s creativity for crying out loud!” Virgil could only slowly back up to get some distance between himself and the beast that was no longer viewed as his friend. In its sleep the cat stretched it’s legs out and opened it’s mouth to reveal the sharp canine’s present to the world. The last thing Virgil would see if he woke up. The tail was already swishing back and forth alarming the mouse. Virgil stumbled a bit and tried to run, but couldn't take his eyes off the predator. This was it. All this work for nothing.

From all this excitement and emotions running through his mind he didn’t realize one little difference with his body.

The mouse looked down trying to force his feet to move and get running. Wait. Feet. Why were there feet?

Virgil covered his body with his newfound hands. He could feel a head, legs, arms, and no tail.

“ Well this is new.”

[makiema]

Possibility of an Eren vs the Devil final showdown

Okay so I saw @marley-warriors-of-demon-blood's post and I pondered over it for a few days. I finally had the time to write it all down. What I have to say draws a lot from the original post. I'd just like to mention some more hints that I picked up while doing my research along these lines.

First off, I'll elaborate on the recurring mentions of "devil" we get throughout the anime and the manga (also talk a bit about Paths) and secondly, on Isayama's subtle inclusions of numerous other Judeo-Christian references. All of it directly hints at a dramatic ending that may involve Eren, the protagonist, and the main antagonist- the Devil.

1. The Devil : We have had an eerie account of direct or indirect references to the Devil.

• One of the earliest comes from Bertholdt in Season 2 Ep 36 when we first hear him addressing Eldians as "spawns of the Devil"

• The next time we literally get to see the Devil is in Season 3 Ep 43 when Historia revisits her past and the book she reads show us the picture of the Devil and we also see Ymir Fritz for the very first time.

She's present in the story under the alias of Christa, who Freida points out to be a kind girl, always thinking about others.

However, this unsuspecting nature also makes her dangerously gullible and thus, the Devil tricks her into consuming the fruit which'd vest her with incredible powers that could be used to do some potential good work but also wreak havoc on Earth. The illustration was already a foreshadowing of the immediate future event whereby Rod Reiss would try to beguile Historia and get her to eat Eren but she'd see through the ploy and stand up against him. But, that's a different topic and I don't want to digress from my primary point. However this illustration carried an even darker foreboding as we'd realize in the course of the manga.

• The next implication comes from Floch, quite shockingly, during the Serum bowl, also in Season 3. We find him referring to Erwin as the "devil" out of nowhere, that too twice.

It was horrifying yes, but could it be a darker message for events yet to unfold? Surely Isayama wouldn't drag in the word "devil" out of nowhere. Also, another thing I want to point out here is Levi's decision of finally using the serum on Armin. No, not the usual why (because by now it's clear that he wanted Erwin to rest) but whether or not this action of his, that earned him hard opprobrium from almost half the fandom, had some underlying meaning for us. Maybe more than the shock factor, the serum bowl was allegorical of future events- that the Devil, like Erwin here, is not dead yet and has been playing the strings since eons ago; that the character who is following in Levi's footsteps, i.e., Eren will have to make a difficult choice (which is why Isayama had been stressing on how he'll hurt the fans in the conclusion) and bring an end to the Devil who is still at large. Choosing Armin over Erwin seems to be an absurd decision from a logical pov and Levi's action maybe more than just "letting him rest". Isayama loves foreshadowing. Killing off such an important character could very well be an indication of something more than what's visible on the surface. Perhaps, it was symbolical of how, in the near future, the actual devil, who shares the same caliber as the Commander in plotting, will be forced to rest by Eren, who was trained by Levi to make difficult choices by himself.

• After this , Eren Kruger mentions how "anyone can be the God or the 'Devil' " in Episode 58, while also explaining how everything is connected by PATHS.

• The final and the clearest reference to the Devil is found in Wily Tybur's speech where he informs us of his devilry and we also come across Ymir Fritz, the girl who fell into his trap, and apparently consumed "the source of all organic matter".

There couldn't have been a more prominent Biblical allusion than this one. Now, endowed with such power, Ymir Fritz sets off with beneficial work but, as per the Curse of Ymir, she dies in a few years and we learn that her power is eventually divided into Nine Titans.

• The Devil and PATHS : Only, in chapter 115, do we realize that she hasn't died or at least her spirit hasn't (I'll elaborate on this later). She's STILL very much functional in PATHS - this another universe or another place (whatever term you deem fit for it). When I say functional, I mean how she has to tend to and help her subjects respawn as per the contract with the Devil.

However, notice the rather dark shading on her face? Those are similar to Isayama's signature stress lines that indicate Ymir Fritz is in pain or at least, she doesn't look like she's willingly up for kneading soil to help her subjects reincarnate. Now, if Ymir Fritz from Tybur's tale is still active, how can we rule out the possibility that the devil is active too? PATHS connects the future and the past. Eren Kruger can send words of advice to the future via PATHS, every shifter who's endowed with powers of the past has access to PATHS. In short, PATHS could be the place of any probability. PATHS is the place that warps time, history and even reality. If Ymir Fritz has indeed digested 'the source of all organic matter on Earth', then PATHS, where Ymir Fritz is struck, could be what supports this source or more clearly, it is what nourishes the root of the Titan Power. We know that Ymir Fritz obtained the source from the Devil and now, if PATHS is like nourishment to the source and is sort of a massive energy center (where even the concept of time is lost) it might very well be the Devil's residence or the physical manifestation of the Devil's will. The Devil, as part of a greater ploy, intended to do away with mankind and wreak havoc and that's why duped Ymir Fritz, a naive young girl, into consuming something that'd bind her and her progenitors to his evil will forever by genetic alterations, making it susceptible to his wilful morphing. With this, the main plot that revolves around slavery can finally reach an end. And breaking that tie to the Titan DNA, by destroying the Devil or PATHS (which helps the Devil to enslave Eldians/Subjects of Ymir no matter the era) could resolve the main issue and pave the way to freedom. If Eren does that, it'd be poetic given that Eren Kruger said that the Attack Titan and it's owner has always chased freedom. It's only fair that the Attack Titan (the embodiment of freedom) destroys PATHS (the embodiment that allows slavery). It all sets out beautifully and maybe this is the reason why Isayama even ensured that we get to see PATHS animated as early as in Season 2 Ep 10. Thus, we get a sneak peek of it in Ymir's memory.

It just gives more corroboration to my hunch that PATHS is THAT important and can possibly be the abode of the Devil and hence, be crucial in the endgame. Also, isn't it ironic how Ymir says "I saw freedom spread out before me" in this scene? Or could Isayama be hinting at a possible conclusion that Eren would finally achieve freedom once he is also in PATHS dimension and destroys it? That this scene would be included so early in the anime but not carry some deeper meaning just doesn't settle well.

2. Other Judeo-Christian references : The manga is brimming with those but I'd just point out to a few as some interpretations may seem too far off and I have the habit of snowballing every minute detail.

• Violets : These flowers keep popping up time and again and is even there in the very beginning of the show. Eren wakes up crying from his 'dream-vision' and we find those violets right beside him.

We again see these flowers very briefly under Armin when Eren consciously transforms for the very time in Season 1 Episode 10. This was not in the manga but Isayama wanted this to be animated. He wouldn't have stressed on the importance of including the violets if he didn't have a motif.

Violets have strong religious connotations in Christianity. They blossomed when Gabriel told Mary of her son's impending birth. Now, Gabriel is the Angel who communicates with humankind and thus stems the potential meaning associated with violets - connections. The symbolism is a very important one as it could be a allegory to how PATHS connects the future to the present, connects all the Subjects Of Ymir. Isayama even canonically included the violets in PATHS dimension in Chapter 115, when Zeke meets Ymir Fritz.

Isayama's emphasis to add violets in the anime and also later, to draw them in PATHS couldn't be for naught. The flowers and what they stand for must be crucial in the final resolution. Also, just as violets blossomed when the birth of the Saviour was prophesized, here in the the SnK universe, violets pop up when Eren is in the frame in the very beginning and when he first reveals his power, indicating he'd be the eventual saviour. If Eren is an allusion to Christ it also justifies what Isayama said : that he wants to 'hurt' the readers. We all know about Christ's sacrifice and perhaps Eren is also going to do something similar which will leave the readers hurting.

• Allusions to literary classics : There are a lot of allusions to Dante's Inferno and even to Milton's Paradise Lost, both of which borrow heavily from mythology and the Bible. But, I'd discuss the ones that I found the most suggestive-

1. Nine : The power of the Devil that Ymir Fritz inherited was split into Nine Titans. In Inferno, we get the Nine Circles of Hell that will eventually lead the poet to Satan. And like we have discussed before, the Devil has striking semblances to Satan. Satan lies below the Nine Circles of Hell and the Nine Titan Powers combined is equivalent to the power the Devil possessed. Uncanny similarity, eh?

2. Ymir and Virgil : Like @marley-warriors-of-demon-blood mentioned, Ymir Fritz is currently caught in a Limbo. She was just a naive little girl and hence, what ensued from her making a deal with the devil wasn't technically her fault. In Inferno, Virgil is distraught similarly- fated to remain trapped in Limbo forever. Now, like I said earlier, PATHS is connected to everything. And Limbo, the first circle of Hell, is also connected to the later circles. I hypothesized in a previous post how I think Ymir Fritz and Eren will meet next in the manga. (with Eren being decapitated and everything) Virgil was the one that guided Dante in his journey in Inferno and Ymir Fritz, currently just a lost spirit in another dimension, may become Eren's guide. She can advise the holder of the two most powerful Titans (the Attack and the Founding) on ways to resolve Eldia's problem by killing it's source, i.e., the Devil, considering she's really a girl with good intentions. This would also resolve her character arc properly. She'd get a stance in the story and not just be someone who was used by the Devil for his conspiracy. After all there's no one more suited for the task than Eren. I'm probably taking it too far but I do think Ymir will have a similar role like Dante. Both are caught in the Limbo, both are not at fault, and both are destined to meet the protagonist.

3. The Crystal : Annie enclosing herself in impenetrable crystal, which outwardly looks very much like ice, could be an allusion to Satan again. In Inferno, he's trapped in ice at the centre of the Earth. Annie is being held captive 'underground'. A very similar process is applied for Satan. He's held underground too and he's enclosed in hard, impenetrable ice, akin to Annie's crystal.

4. Paradis : The name itself could be suggestive of Paradise, i.e., the Garden of Eden, which is mentioned in the Bible as well as in Paradise Lost. The place is described as magical. The 'Paradis' in Isayama's story is not far from being extraordinary and is peppered with rare resources as Kiyomi points out in Chapter 107.

It has "the forest of giant trees", a plethora of resources, and is teeming with diversity. It's equivalent to a biodiversity hotspot, a very rare place on Earth. It has an aura of supernaturality and extravagance, much like the Paradise of Milton. Also, the whole Satan luring Eve with the apple thing (and the Devil's likewise conniving) is also mentioned in Paradise Lost.

So, in conclusion, with this many underlying religious motifs it's highly possible that the Devil is the ultimate villain, like Satan is in Christianity, and Eren's final confrontation is going to be with him- the one who is the root cause of all evil. Even the final exhibition gave a lot of importance to the Devil tricking Ymir Fritz scene. It definitely has much more significance than is apparent.

One of the key themes in SnK has been gray morality. All the characters have their own reasons to justify their commiting the most horrible atrocities they inevitably had to, as per orders. Marley is not exactly on the wrong for torturing and ghettoing Eldians. They fear power that can actually trample on the whole world. Eldia is, of course, not at fault. Their genetic make up may spell impending danger but that doesn't make them any less human. They're cursed alright but that doesn't automatically strip them off their humanity. They have as much right to live as Marleyans. In fact, as we have seen Eren reinforcing from time to time, "Nobody has the right to take that away from us".

Here, Eren also expressed his denial of any plan that even remotely suggested using this probability of turning into a Titan as a weapon to fight. Thus, we can trust that what Eren aims will cause the eradication of this possibility altogether. He will make it so that such a cruel way of fighting doesn't exist ; that nobody will have to be forced to turn into a Titan and die no matter the cause. And the only possible way to do away with this is to kill it's source : the source being the Devil or his instrument, the PATHS.

But, even if nobody is at fault, one cannot veil the truth that Titans exist or rather, the Titan DNA and the inadvertent possibility of an Eldian turning into a Titan exists. It still looms in the SnK universe like 'the grim reminder' we have heard over and over again in the anime. The reminder of humanity being caged and the humility of living under constant fear of Titans popping up suddenly called for invariable Fighting since the very beginning and had also inspired the chase for Freedom. So, how will Isayama bring the main plot/theme revolving Fighting for Freedom to a close? Of course, the answer is by ending slavery in all forms, including Eldians being a slave to the Devil via their fundamental genetic constitution. The Devil is the one responsible for making them Titans, for making the world see them as dreadful enemies. He is the one infringing on their right to freedom and right to live. Thus, Eren WILL face off with the Devil, the cause of all slavery in their world, and finally bring Freedom to humankind. After all, hasn't Eren's character always been all for freedom and for detesting and aiming to do away with every possible form of slavery? If the Devil's very existence is the cause of Eldians being a slave to devilish power, it's only fair that the one character, who has reasserted the importance of Freedom more noticeably than any other throughout the story, is the one that brings the curtain down on the Devil and all his ploys of enslavement and wreckage, consequently freeing his men.

[yuna-dan]

Counting (On you) 2

I’m sorry for the hiatus I went into, whenever i was in the mood to write something happened and it just broke my spirit. However, I’m back at Tumblr, at writing and into the fandom. I’m sorry for how long y’all have to wait and I hope you enjoy this just as much as I enjoyed writing it. 

Sorry in advance

Summary: You owe me 5,000,000 kisses and apparetnly you take that seirously. Soulmate AU. Reincarnation AU. Also knowns as the fic where Logan and Roman reincarnated to meet each other.

Warning: Character death, since they have to reincarnate, nothing explicit. Violence. Terminal Illness. Magic

Part 1

7. ~~

Roman always knew there was something missing in his life, and yet he couldn’t quite place it. His life wasn’t horrible, and yet he felt disconnected.

His family always knew about this, and while his mother tried to be supportive, his dad was less… understanding, to put it in a way.

He remembered how his father practically forced him to take that trip into deer hunting, and Roman hated it. The simple idea of taking someone else’s life was horrible, even if it was just an animal.

“I promise you’ll love it, son.” His dad said, with his eyes still on the road.

Roman sighed, and looked out the window. “Whatever, dad.”

~~~

He took a different way that his father, with the excuse to cover up more territory which in reality wasn’t a lie but he just didn’t like the idea of being there.

He sighed, walking slowly, enjoying the clean air and clear sky. It wasn’t exactly a sunny day, but it wasn’t either a cloudy one. He was so lost in his thoughts he didn’t notice the presence until he almost crashed with it.

He gasped as the small deer stared at him, with curiosity. Roman attempted to grab the gun, but his intentions failed when the small animal took a step closer, making eye contact with the hunter.

“You’re so beautiful.” Roman wasn’t sure if he was going mad, but it seemed as if the deer smiled with pride. He moved his hand, trying to pet it and the deer nuzzle at his hand.

It was a weird kiss, considering one of them was an animal and the other should be shooting in the air. For some reason the deer didn’t run and the hunter never shoot.

Roman just laid his hand on the deer’s head, “Can I name you Logan?” the deer nuzzled again, licking his hand. Roman kissed his temple again and the deer run away.

Roman’s dad was incredibly angry that his son let the deer run away, but somehow Roman was so happy.

They only saw each other for 45 minutes 43 seconds, but that was all they needed.

~~~

4240 kissing and still counting

~~~ 8. ~~~

Logan didn’t understand how time and their lives where involved, maybe future or past never existed. He knew no one could ever know that he remembered his pasts (or future?) lives. He also knew he was different, and maybe that was the reason his parents abandoned him when he was four years old.

He remembered them, of course, and he missed them dearly, but somehow, he understood that maybe this was how it was supposed to happened.

He yearned to have a family, but he knew no one would adopt the weird-cold-stubborn kid.

Then Mrs. Saunders came, and Logan knew he maybe trust someone. Don’t get him wrong, Virgil was also a different person.

“Weird isn’t an insult, son,” his foster dad would say the day after they formalized the adoption, “It’s a quality we should be proud of.” ~~~

Logan was sixteen, and he grew around labs, weird substances and the necessity to learn learn learn. Virgil was a proud dad, and he hoped that maybe one day they could work together.

Virgil loved his son, and he while he may be a mad scientist he would never put his son in danger. ~~~

Logan was twenty when Virgil revealed his plan, creating a different way of living.

“Kind of a robot?” Logan asked, looking at the design, which resemble almost a human being.

Virgil nodded enthusiastically, “Almost, but with independent thinking and with the ability of having its own choices.”

Logan nodded, internally, he was vibrating with happiness.

~~~

Logan was the one who suggested the acronym of R.O.M.A.N which stand up for Regal Obvious Miracle Anthropological & Noticeable. Virgil never commented about the horrible acronym and Logan never mentioned he just wanted to name him Roman because he remembered. ~~~

When his father took him to the lab right after they were done, he gasped as soon as he saw the robotic form. “He’s quite cool, right?” He’s gorgeous

He continued his job with R.O.M.A.N, giving him the ability to speak, to walk, to think and more importantly to love. He was a creative robot, his creative robot.

He perfectioned R.O.M.A.N even when Virgil couldn’t walk anymore, never leaving behind his father, of course.

“Sir,” R.O.M.A.N’s metallic voice said, “I think you should be with your father.”

Logan cleaned his brow with his forearm, “Come with me, then.”

Virgil’s last months were with his son and his creation, and he couldn’t be happier.

~~~

“Are you going to hold this against me?” R.O.M.A.N asked in his monotone voice one night, in their shared bedroom.

Logan smirked, “I create you, you owe me something.” He said, pressing his lips against the metallic ones

“I only owe you kisses.” He said, pressing another peck to his mouth.

“Four thousand, two hundred and seventy.” Logan whispered with his eyes closed.

“You’re unbelievable, sir.”

~~~

Kisses were different, cold and electric, but, honestly, this was the best life so far. They were together all the time and kissed flied always.

4395, 4396, 4397, 4398, 4399, 4400...

~~~

Except it wasn’t really, because honestly, who falls in love with a robot? Or that was Logan heard when his coworker destroyed his love and burnt this house.

~ 9. ~

This life was sad the moment it started.

Roman diagnosis was when he was only seven years old, and he outlived the expectative doctors had on him. “It’s a miracle.” the nurse said on his fifteen birthdau

What a miracle, to be connected to tubes for the rest of your life.

In reality, Roman considered his life at the hospital a misery.

~~~

Cliché as it sounded, it wasn’t until Logan became his hospital room’s partner that life started to be different. They were both terminally ill, however they never asked each other what about exactly.

First it was friendship, playing card games at night, staying up watching TV or just chatting while listening to music. It wasn’t until their first kiss that both remembered.

“Hey, specs, I missed you.”

Logan smiled softly.

That night they slept together, holding each other and just kissing softly their faces.

This life they couldn’t share more than fifty kisses, but at least they could slightly test marriage life.

Logan used his “wish” to marry Roman, and even if they hide behind friendship they knew the reality. After all, they still would hold each other at night.

Roman passed first, and Logan a few months after him. At least, there wasn’t some dramatic experience.

~~~ 4995550 ~~~

10. ~

Logan was a wizard, a known one actually. He was a dark one. It wasn’t necessarily that he enjoyed putting misery upon people he just needed the money and apparently, people paid a lot of money to get revenge.

Turn my mother-in-law blind, cast a spell under my boss, made this person fall for me.

They were blinded with feelings Logan couldn’t understand at all.

~~~ He remembered the night he met (or again?) Roman. He was shivering, and Logan offered him to enter.

“I’ll pay you whatever you want, just make them stop.”

Logan stared at him, confused. “Who exactly.”

Roman the lifted his shirt, showing the bruises under it making Logan gasped in pain and anger, “My father.”

It was one death spell, the first and last one Logan ever casted.

~~~

The words slipped Roman’s tongue before he had even thought them, “Can I kiss you?”

Logan nodded, absentmindedly.

4451

“Hey.” They smiled at each other, and kissed again.

~~~

Dark magic always come with a price, a price Logan had to ended up paying with his life. He remembered Roman’s tears as he walked into the fire.

“I’m sorry my love.”

“See you soon.”

~~~

We’re 4995240 kisses away

Are you in a hurry, my love?

No, not anymore.

Some thing I need to say it was that both kisses in the hunter life was in the head because cmon. Also Deceit was Roman’s dad. Hope y’all like it.

Please reblog my work <3

If you wanna be tagged in future fics please INTERACT ONCE WITH THIS(Either like, reblog or comment)

[ajax-b1ue]

Suspension of Disbelief: Ch 4

2018 Big Bang Fic Challenge Submission Amazing Artist, Big Bang Partner, and Header Creator: @ahoardofsides​​ TW: Villainous Deceit, angst, manipulation, gaslighting, self-deprecation, self-harm, anxiety attack, violence, blood, attempted murder Pairings: Platonic LAMP WC: 4452

( Master | AO3 | 1 | 2 | 3 | Chapter 4: A Midsummer Nightmare | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 )

When Roman awakened this time, there was no one knocking at his door. 

He laid in bed, staring at the ceiling. In his head, he tried to muddle his way through his ongoing disagreement with the others, and why did he keep managing to mess things up every time it looked like they were getting better?

Roman eventually managed to rouse himself from his dejection enough to decide, he needed to make a better effort. Patton had certainly been trying to reach out to him this whole time. There was no reason he shouldn’t at least try.

And so, in what was becoming a familiar scene, Roman joined the others as they were finishing their breakfast. They all paused, watching him carefully.

Roman braced himself with a deep breath. “My friends, I… wanted to extend an invitation to all of you. Would you join me in my adventures in the imagination today?” 

Patton was delighted, immediately accepting. “Oh, absolutely Roman! I’d love to!”

Logan and Virgil were clearly less certain, exchanging a look and neither saying anything at first.

Roman tried not to let that sting. “I know it’s… been a while, since we’ve done anything together,” he admitted. “I thought this might help us get back on the right foot.”

Logan put a hand to his chin. “Indulging in fantasy scenarios is not something I’m usually eager to partake in… But, I agree,” he offered, gesturing with the same hand. “It would be good to have some… ‘bonding time’.”

Patton clapped his hands and looked expectantly to Virgil, as did Logan and Roman.

“Well, Grand Marshal of the Black Parade,” Roman hazarded. “…What say you?”

Virgil pulled a face and made a prolonged noise of displeasure; Roman grit his teeth. Patton was unfazed, cheerfully pointing out, “I’m not hearing a no!”

“Fine,” Virgil finally relented, rolling his eyes.

And so, the sides journeyed into Roman’s fantasy together; at first, all seemed normal. Patton was having a grand time, Logan was at least making an effort to enjoy himself, and Virgil… Virgil was going along with it, if unenthusiastically.

The adventure played out simply enough, with the sides as heroes questing to save a village from a nearby band of ruffians. It was somewhat straightforward, but plot twists and dramatic tension weren’t nearly so important as rebuilding a sense of camaraderie.

Their current path led them through a forest that had certainly never existed any place in reality. It was too pristine, too beautiful, too easy to traverse and was entirely devoid of spiders and mosquitos. Still, Roman couldn’t help but be cautiously pleased, especially as Patton delightedly pointed out each and every animal that crossed their path, or when he marveled at how pretty the sunlight shining through the leaves was.

Logan wore an exasperated but amused expression, and was notably refraining from pointing out the lack of realism. Part of Roman wanted to say something, maybe even thank the logical side— at least to let Logan know that Roman did notice the effort he was making. He couldn’t quite figure out how to word that without embarrassing himself completely, though.

Virgil was, perhaps not unsurprisingly, thumbing at something on his phone, his other hand jammed in the pocket of his hoodie. Roman let out a breath and glanced away, trying not to be frustrated.

Virgil was at least there with them. That counted for something.

For his own part, Roman tried to be a little less boisterous than he might have normally been— no breaking into song, no rallying speeches about how they would best their foes. Just… having the company of his fellow sides, and letting them enjoy themselves on their own terms.

“Roman?”

The princely side started, then glanced at Logan; from the tone of his voice, it wasn’t the first time he’d tried to catch his attention. Roman offered a sheepish smile. “My apologies, I was lost in thought.”

“So long as we’re not lost in Thomas’s imagination.” Logan raised one eyebrow, but also wore the hint of a smile. “I presume you know where we’re going? You’ve been uncharacteristically quiet since we left the village.”

Roman gave a short chuckle and glanced away. “Ahh… Well, I just wanted to let everyone take it all in, I suppose.” When he looked back to Logan, Roman could see the other side wasn’t quite buying it, but he let it slide nonetheless.

Patton took that opportunity to pop up between them, putting an arm around either of their shoulders. “Well, I know I’m having a good time, Roman! In fact,” he went on, grinning, “I’d say this whole afternoon has been a real tree-t!”

Roman pressed a hand to his mouth, trying not to smile at the expression on Logan’s face. 

“Yes. It’s been a pleasure,” Logan said, voice flat. “Thus far.”

“Sorry Logan. That was really a-corny pun, wasn’t it?”

This time, Roman had to stifle a snort, and he was pretty sure he heard Virgil chuckling behind them; Patton beamed at him. Logan pressed his lips into a thin line, clearly trying very hard to bite down on whatever it was he wanted to say. “Our destination?” he reminded Roman instead, speaking a little louder than was strictly necessary. “There are some criminals we’re supposed to apprehend, are there not?”

“A group of bandits,” Roman answered, deciding to take pity on Logan. “They make their lair in a cave in this forest. We’ll need to be careful, however, as the whole area surrounding it is littered with traps. Not to worry, though,” he added after a moment, with a little more of his usual bravado. “With the four of us, we shall conquer any obstacle in our path!”

“Right!” Patton agreed, dropping his arm to nudge Logan’s shoulder with his own. “So long as we stick together! I know we can get to the root of this problem, and achieve a vic-tree. Nothing’s going to stump us!”

Roman doubled over in a fit of very fake coughing, while Virgil quietly lost it; Logan stopped dead in the middle of the pathway, his whole body rigid, refusing to move any further.

Patton paused and turned around, barely containing his mischievous grin. “Uh oh… I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess, I might have pushed the puns to the ex-tree-m?”

“Easy there, Pat, his eye’s starting to twitch,” Virgil said, finally choosing to join the conversation. Patton turned and regarded Logan, who did indeed look like he was about to blow a gasket.

“…Wood you like me to stop?”

“I’m going on ahead,” Logan declared loudly, and stalked away from the other three.

“Don’t wander off!” Virgil called after him.

“Well, I guess he can’t cedar forest for the trees, huh?” Patton murmured, and Roman finally burst into guffaws, unable to contain himself any longer. Up ahead, Logan started walking faster.

Oh, it felt good, to laugh like that. To share jokes with the others. Roman hadn’t even realized how much he’d missed it; perhaps Patton had, though, judging by the warm look the moral side was giving him. Just as quickly, though, something else caught Patton’s attention off in the trees— “Ooh! Was that a robin?”— and he veered off in another direction.

Virgil threw his hands up in exasperation. “What did I just say?”

Roman’s laughter died down to a chuckle, and he shook his head. When he looked back up, though, he noticed that Logan was getting quite a ways ahead of them. While his good mood couldn’t be dampened by guilt, he still jogged to catch up. “Logan, wait!”

It took a few minutes of coaxing, but Roman soon managed to catch Logan’s interest again with discussion of some of the traps they might have to face. Patton continued to wander back and forth across the trail, searching for wildlife and wearing a wide smile; even Virgil seemed relaxed, enjoying the peace.

They continued on this way for at least another quarter of an hour, everyone’s spirits considerably lightened. In fact, engaged in a lively debate with Logan over the optimal construction of pitfalls, Roman could have completely forgotten that there had been any awkwardness or tension to begin with.

Right up until the moment when Virgil suddenly asked, voice full of alarm, “Where’s Patton?”

Logan and Roman both ground to a halt, spinning to see Virgil— and just Virgil. Roman’s heart started to pound faster.

“Now, there’s no call for panic,” Logan tempered. “The simplest explanation is that Patton most likely strayed from the path while looking for woodland creatures.” He gestured to the forest around them. “He probably hasn’t gone that far.”

“We should split up to look for him,” Roman immediately suggested.

Virgil gave him an incredulous look. “We’ve already lost one of us, and you want to split up?”

Roman turned towards Virgil, trying not to let frustration take hold again. “We need to find him, and it’s the fastest way.”

Logan interceded before it could devolve into bickering. “Roman is right; speed is of the essence. So long as we stay within auditory range of one another, we should be able to keep track of each other’s positions.”

The dark expression on Virgil’s face made it clear what he thought of that idea, but he didn’t argue any further.

They wasted no more time in starting their search; the three of them started back the way they came, with Virgil sticking to the path and Roman and Logan going off to either side of it, calling out for their missing friend.

“Patton!”

Roman paused, listening for any response. All he could hear, however, was Virgil also yelling Patton’s name, and a little fainter, Logan doing the same.

He sighed and pressed on, leaves crunching under his boots. He wasn’t too anxious just yet; this sort of plot twist wasn’t uncommon in the imagination. Still, it was one thing when it happened to him— Roman ventured into the imagination all the time, he was familiar with its quirks. And, he was armed. Thomas’s imagination wasn’t a particularly dark place, but it could still be dangerous, and Patton was a little too trusting.

A hint of movement ahead made Roman freeze again, eyes straining to pick out whatever it was he had noticed. “…Patton?”

No voice called back, but Roman did hear a strange creaking noise that took a moment for him to place…

With a start, his eyes went wide— the creaking gave way to a whistling sound, and Roman flung himself to the forest floor. The crack of wood splintering sounded overhead, and pieces of bark showered down onto Roman.

He didn’t need to see the shattered shaft of the arrow to realize that one had just glanced off of the tree above him.

Leaves and twigs dug into Roman’s palms as he shoved himself back up, scrambling to get his feet under him. “Bandits!” Roman bellowed, trying to warn his fellow sides. “Virgil, Logan!”

He could hear more people in the forest around him now, chasing after him, and he raced to rejoin his companions. Then, Roman heard a shout that made his blood turn to ice: “We’ve got one here!”

Roman immediately turned that way, drawing his sword mid-stride. He burst back onto the path to find that two of the thugs had Virgil backed up against a tree trunk, his eyes wide with fear.

He gave them no time to react; Roman charged in, and even as the first bandit turned to look Roman smashed the hilt of his sword into their face.

The second one gave a startled cry, but quickly recovered and swung their sword at Roman. He met it with his own, then lashed out with one booted foot, catching the ruffian in the thigh and kicking them to the ground.

Then he latched onto one of Virgil’s sleeves— “Come on!”

Virgil got no chance to protest or even react before Roman started dragging him along— none too soon, as more of the bandits emerged from the trees where Roman had appeared.

Luckily, Virgil turned out to be as fast a runner as Roman was. Unfortunately, their pursuers weren’t that far behind; it would only take one slip to give them the chance to catch up. 

This was still Roman’s forest, though— he knew it as well as any imaginary villain that inhabited it, and he had a clear destination in mind as he pulled Virgil after him. If they could just reach the spot in time…

Then, through the trees ahead of them, Roman could see it.

Apparently Virgil saw it too, because he dug his heels in, trying to stop. “Whoa— no!”

The ground in front of them dropped away in a steep embankment— but the shouts behind them were getting louder. Roman paused just long enough to sheath his sword, then grabbed Virgil’s shoulders with both hands. “Yes!”

Without waiting for a response, he drug Virgil over the lip. They both immediately lost their footing, sliding down the embankment, and tumbling into a heap at the bottom. Roman was the first to recover, scrambling to his feet and trying to pull Virgil to his.

There was just enough of an overhang, with thick vegetation in front of it, that it couldn’t be seen from above. Roman yanked Virgil down with him, just barely managing to hide before the sound of voices drifted down to them. 

“Think they went down this way?”

Virgil sucked in a loud breath, and Roman instinctively clamped a hand over the anxious side’s mouth.

“I don’t see anything… look around!”

The seconds seemed to stretch for an eternity in which the two of them stayed frozen, neither daring to move.

Until, finally: “Ugh, can’t find nothin’… all right! Keep moving!”

Roman would have waited another few minutes, to be absolutely certain that the bandits had moved on. He wasn’t given the option, however; Virgil angrily shoved his hand away, elbowing him in the ribs and shooting the creative side a dirty look.

Roman grunted, flinching, and was ready to snap at Virgil. That was, until he saw the way Virgil sat stiffly with his shoulders hunched, pressing himself up against the dirt embankment— as far away from Roman as he could get in the small space.

Struck with a pang of guilt, Roman tried to apologize. “Virgil, I’m—” 

“Whatever,” Virgil growled, pulling the hood of his jacket up around his neck like a ruff. He shoved his way past the other side, clambering to his feet. Roman let out a breath, then started to push himself up as well.

Standing again, Roman allowed himself a moment to take stock of where they were: the bottom of a streambed, with water trickling over mossy rocks at their feet. It was actually rather beautiful, and under any other circumstances, Roman would have liked to stop and take the time to admire his handiwork. As it was— 

“So what now?”

Roman winced, but schooled his expression as he turned to Virgil, who wore a flat look and held both arms out to the side before letting them drop.

Roman took a moment to straighten his back and take a breath, trying to project his usual air of confidence. “First thing, we should get out of this gully. We don’t want to be trapped down here if they come back.”

Virgil gestured to the bank they had slid down, and Roman immediately took his point.

“I know, it’s too steep,” Roman acknowledged, grimacing. They couldn’t go back the way they came. “The other side is shallow enough, though; we can climb up and follow the stream until we find a spot where we can cross back over.”

“Then we can start looking for Patton, and Logan.” The stare Virgil gave Roman was neutral, but his tone was bitter.

Roman had no answer for that. He just moved to the opposite bank, trying to pick out the best path upwards.

“Great plan, by the way,” Virgil went on. “Splitting up? Wish I’d thought of how it could have gone wrong. Oh. Wait.”

Roman flinched, his hands clenching. “Virgil—” His breath caught in his throat, and Roman checked himself, ducking his head. “Let’s just… focus on finding Logan and Patton.” 

He could feel Virgil’s stare boring into the back of his head.

“Sure,” was the clipped response.

With that, things were right back to how they had been the past few weeks— uncomfortable and tense. The two of them drug themselves up out of the gully, then proceeded to walk in uneasy silence; calling out for Logan and Patton was out of the question, not with the bandits already looking for them. The woods around them seemed to reflect Roman’s sinking mood, with the forest growing more dreary and lifeless with every step they took.

It was, surprisingly, Virgil who finally broke the silence. “So… this is your space, right? Can’t you just—” Virgil snapped his fingers— “and we’re all back together? Or,” he asked, eyes narrowing, “does that not fit with your ‘storyline’?”

Roman did his absolute best not to react to Virgil’s pointed jab. Instead, he tried to answer Virgil’s first question. “…Yes, I can shape the imagination,” he explained, still keeping his eyes forward. “But, for something like this, I also have to surrender some control. I can’t just always… force an idea, or a story. It needs to be able to flow naturally.”

“…So even in your own realm, you’re useless. Good to know.”

Roman froze. The forest around them was still and silent and gray.

Then, slowly, he turned to face Virgil. “What?”

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “Did I stutter?”

Roman bristled, then snapped, “What the heck has gotten into you, Anxiety?”

He hadn’t meant to say it— in that moment of incredulous anger it slipped out. But before Roman even had the chance to regret his choice of words, Virgil’s lips curled, and his voice dripped with sarcasm. “Aww, look who’s busting out the old names—  am I getting to you, Princey?”

“Well you’re certainly doing your best to act like a villain right now,” Roman shot back, guilt fading fast.

Virgil’s response took Roman entirely off guard. He just smirked, tapping the tip of his nose with one finger. “And he finally gets it.”

“Excuse you??” About a hundred questions immediately sprang to Roman’s mind, most of them some variation on, What the heck is that supposed to mean? It was at this point, however, that Roman realized the imagination was starting to warp around them; everywhere he looked, it grew darker, plants withered, the wind blew cold.

He understood with a start— it was responding to Virgil.

“What are you doing?” Roman wheeled back towards the other side. “Stop it!”

“Make me,” Virgil taunted. “Oh wait, you can’t, can you? You have to ‘surrender control’,” he said, making air quotes with his fingers.

At this point, Roman had had enough. Virgil had escalated from being rude to being outright confrontational, and if the other side wanted to play this game—

Roman caught himself again, and let out a short, hard exhalation.

…No.

If Virgil was trying to get a rise out of Roman, the creative side wasn’t going to give him any further satisfaction. He straightened his back, squared his shoulders, and turned pointedly away, intending to walk off and leave Virgil to his own devices.

Instead, Roman was forced to halt, almost tripping over his own feet to avoid walking straight into a wall of gnarled roots and vines full of thorns that erupted from the ground at his feet. He backpedaled, turning to search for another way around— only to find that he and Virgil were surrounded, hedged in on all sides, cutting the two of them off from everything else.

Roman recoiled, his head whipping back to Virgil, who just smiled. “What— how—” Roman realized then that the imagination wasn’t just responding to Virgil— the other side was actually manipulating it, in a way that no one except Roman should have been able to. “Virgil, what’s going on??”

“Virgil? I thought I was Anxiety.” Virgil tilted his head, expression filled with mock concern. “…Am I making you anxious, Roman?” Then Virgil’s eyes fell to where Roman’s hand had found its way to the hilt of the sword at his hip; his smirk twisted into a grin. “No… you’re scared.” The grin darkened, as did the air around them. “You should be.”

Roman felt like the world was spinning around him, and he couldn’t get his balance. “Are you… threatening me?” Once upon a time, Roman would have believed that in a heartbeat— but he would have been wrong, he told himself vehemently.

Wouldn’t he?

No, Virgil wasn’t like this. They got mad at each other, they fought sometimes, but Virgil wouldn’t go this far… But if he was still mad, why accept Roman’s invitation in the first place? Was it some kind of joke? Virgil’s way of getting back at him?

Roman clenched his eyes and shook his head. “Virgil, enough! I don’t understand how, or why you’re doing this, but we both know this isn’t you!”

Virgil snorted softly, still watching Roman with eyes full of dark amusement. “Funny. They both knew it wasn’t me, either.”

A chill ran up Roman’s spine. “…What?”

The smirk never left the other side’s face. “Out here, in the middle of the woods… it’s so easy to get turned around. Separated.” Virgil’s face scrunched up in fake concern. “I hate to think about what’d happen to Thomas if they got lost in here.”

Roman couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t believe what he was hearing—

“But, there’s nothing to worry about,” Virgil dismissed casually. “Not when you have friends you can trust…” He made direct eye contact with Roman, and smiled. “Right?”

Friend or no— that was the tipping point. With a flash of steel, Roman’s sword was free of its sheath. “What have you done to them?!” he demanded.

“Hm, I don’t know… what do you think?” Virgil gestured lazily, the dark aura around him growing, and suddenly Roman could hear yells of pain coming from beyond the thicket.

“Logan! Patton!”

Roman spun frantically— blast these damned thorns, he couldn’t get through to them! 

Instead, he rounded again on the other side, desperate. “Virgil, stop! They’re your friends!” Virgil’s grin widened, and the sounds of pain turned to screams; Roman flinched, then advanced on Virgil, brandishing his blade. “Stop this, now!”

Virgil raised an arm surrounded by black energy, gesturing at Roman—

Roman reacted, swinging to intercept—

And for just a moment, Roman saw Virgil’s face twisted in fear, not a grin; the arm he had thrown up not crackling with dark magic, but protecting his face. 

Roman’s sword sliced cleanly into Virgil’s left forearm.

The anxious side gasped for air. His face went white as a sheet. Then he crumpled, clutching at his arm— and the far-too-fast-growing bloodstain there.

And that was when the other sides found them. They ran to them, calling their names— Roman barely registered that there was no thicket separating them anymore, as Logan and Patton both drew up short, looking horrified; Patton immediately rushed to Virgil’s side.

Logan spun towards Roman. “What did you do?!”

Roman’s mouth hung open, eyes wide, unable to form words. Logan shoved past him, not waiting for an answer. The silence was filled by Virgil’s gasping breaths; he was starting to hyperventilate. Patton frantically tried to get Virgil to focus on him and slow his breathing.

Logan muttered, “He’s going into shock… We have to get him out of here so we can stitch that up.” He then rounded on Roman again, who recoiled at the fury on Logan’s face. “End this— take us back!”

Floundering for a moment, Roman tried to remember how to make his limbs work, how to make his mind work.

“Logan!” Patton’s desperate cry drew the attention of both the logical and creative sides.

Virgil’s breaths were getting choppier, and his head was starting to loll— and suddenly the world around them lurched and grew darker. They all came to the awful realization at the same time:

Thomas was having an anxiety attack.

Everything around them started to devolve into chaos— tremors shaking the earth, trees toppling and collapsing around them, lightning flashing as a building storm filled the sky.

“Take us back, now!” Logan yelled again. When Roman didn’t respond, he seized a fist full of his jacket and shouted, “Roman!” Roman flinched, but then made a curt gesture with his arm; the fantasy world dissolved around them, resolving into their own living room.

The sky outside was still dark except for flashes of lightning followed by rumbles of thunder that shook the house, while the wind howled and rattled the windows— not nearly as bad as the imagination, but Thomas’s mind was still in chaos.

Logan and Patton maneuvered Virgil onto the couch and stripped his hoodie off, totally occupied with trying to deal with his injury as quickly as they could, and hopefully stop Thomas’s panic attack.

Roman staggered back against the wall, trying to process. He attacked Virgil. He genuinely thought that Virgil had turned on them, that he was hurting the others… But the terror in Virgil’s face as Roman’s sword descended was burned into his memory— as was Logan’s look of cold fury.

Patton had one hand clamped over Virgil’s bare arm; he reached out to Logan with the other, taking the piece of gauze the logical side handed him. He placed it over the cut before quickly reapplying pressure— Roman could see, his hands were covered in blood.

In Virgil’s… 

Roman sank out, retreating to his room. He barely managed to stumble to the door and lock himself in before he broke down crying, which turned to sobbing. 

He sank to his knees. He buried his face in his arms, fingers pulling painfully at his hair, shuddering with each gasped breath.

He missed the footsteps crossing the marble floor until their owner was right in front of him.

“Oh, Roman… what did you do?”

Roman wasn’t quite able to look up, but Deceit’s voice was unmistakable. Roman still couldn’t bring himself to move as Deceit knelt next to him.

He slowly wrapped his arms around Roman’s shoulders. “Shhh,” Deceit soothed. “I’ve got you.” In his soft, flat tone, he insisted, “Don’t worry… it’ll all be okay.”

Hearing those words from Deceit, Roman began to tremble. His face screwed up— and then, he broke down completely. His body sagged, his strength leaving him, until he was held up only by Deceit’s iron grasp.

[iwillphysicallyfiteyou]

Badass Boys - Chapter Six

First, Previous, and Next.

Masterlist/Outfits

Series Description: Virgil has always been known as a bad boy, Logan very recently has been considered a bad boy. However, no one knows that these two bad boys are gay.

Chapter Description - Logan gets distracted while driving so he calls his friend Roman.

Pairings: Analogical (Side Royality)

CW: Strong Language and Internalized Homophobia

Logan would never admit it, but he started to space out while driving. Virgil was such an interesting person, and a good looking one as well. His black hair perfectly contrasted with his pale skin, and he was only 5′10″, which was adorable. Logan mentally slapped himself in the face. He shouldn’t be calling boys adorable, that’s weird, at least that’s what he told himself.

A car horn brought Logan back to reality. He cursed under his breath once he realized that he just flew past a stop sign. He pulled into a gas station, walked out of his car, and called his friend Roman. There’s no way in hell he can drive when he’s this distracted.

“Hello,” Roman responded after a couple of rings.

“Hi,” a voice, presumingly Patton, said over the phone.

“Greetings, would you be able to pick me up? I’m at the Quiktrip on highway 47.” Logan noticed a van pull into the parking lot.

“Sure, but why?” Roman asked. 

Logan noticed that the van was getting closer and closer to him.

“I keep getting really distracted, I even ran through a stop sign and didn’t notice until after,” Logan admitted.

The van parked next to Logan.

“Alright, I’m like five minutes away from there, but I’ll be as fast as I can,” Roman said.

“Thank you.” They exchanged their goodbyes before hanging up.”

Then there was a hand on Logan’s shoulder. Logan shrieked, loud.

“Woah calm down, it’s just me,” the person said.

Logan looked over and saw that is was his friend Leo.

“Gosh, you scared me.” Logan placed a hand on his heart.

“I could tell, you screamed like a blonde lady in a horror movie,” Leo teased.

“Oh hush.”

“Anyways, I came here just because I saw you, but I gotta go to my house now,” Leo said.

Logan was about to ask him for a ride, but then he realized how inconvenient that would be. His house is in a completely different direction, and he already asked Roman for a ride.

“Alright, have fun.”

“Will do.”

And then he waited. While he waited he went inside and bought lemonade. Roman’s red blazer was waiting for him when he stepped outside.

Roman rolled down his window and yelled, “hey pretty boy, want a ride?”

Logan rolled his eyes before grabbing his bag and phone out of his Blazer, then crawled into the backseat of Roman’s car.

“Tell us about Virgil,” Patton said once they started driving.

“Don’t you already know like everything there is to know about Virgil since you two are best friends?” Logan asked.

“Well yeah, but I want to know what you think of him.” Patton turned around so that he is facing Logan.

“Well, he’s calm, nice, does things on a whim, and he has a nice face,” Logan said.

“Ooh, someone has a crush,” Roman teased.

“Yeah, I don’t swing that way,” Logan responded, and Roman shrugged.

“What are you going to do with your car?” Patton asked.

“I’ll have to talk to my dad about that,” Logan responded.

“Oof.”

They continued to talk about trivial things as they drove until eventually, Roman parked in front of Logan’s house.

“Thanks for the ride.”

“No problem.”

“See you tomorrow.”

Logan strolled into his house and set his bag on the sofa. His dad would be home soon.

“Where were you?” Brooklyn, Logan’s sister, asked. Brooklyn’s newly pink hair was cut into a bob.

“When did you dye and cut your hair?” Logan asked.

“Kyla did it, do you like it?” Brooklyn asked.

“Yeah, it suits you,” Logan said truthfully. There’s only one person that Logan loves more than his dad, and that’s his sister. Brooklyn is a sassy and spunky fourteen-year-old, and she’s Logan’s spirit animal. 

“Thanks. You should dye your hair too.” 

“No thanks.”

“You never take any risks.” That stung.

Logan shrugged before going into the kitchen.

Brooklyn and Logan talked until their dad entered the house.

“Hey kids,” their dad said as he walked into the kitchen.

“Hey, Pops.” Brooklyn gave their father a hug.

“Aww, Brookie.” He returned the hug.

Brooklyn pulled Logan into the hug.

“Why,” Logan mumbled.

“Oh you love us,” their dad said.

They stopped hugging and started talking about their day. After Brooklyn talked about her day with Kyla she asked what Logan did today.

“Logan skipped with Virgil,” their father said.

“What? You skipped with Finding Emo?” Brooklyn asked.

“Don’t call him that, and yeah.” 

“Why’d you skip?” Brooklyn asked.

“I don’t know, because he asked me to.”

“That is a terrible reason,” their dad said.

Logan shrugged before saying, “maybe.”

“Do you have a crush on him?” Brooklyn asked.

“No, I’m not gay Brooklyn.” Logan crossed his arms.

“Okay damn calm down,” Brooklyn said.

“Language!” Their dad scolded.

“English,” Brooklyn responded.

“I am this close to grounding you.”

They continued bickering as Logan’s phone vibrated.

Roman: virge told me to give you his number 

Roman: Well technically he told patton but oh well

Then Roman sent him Virgil’s number.

Logan responded to Roman before adding Virgil to his contact list. He decided to text him a simple hey.

Virgil: Is this Logan?

Logan: Yup.

Virgil: Cool, today was fun

Logan: Indeed.

They continued to talk until his phone was taken out of his hands.

“Who are you texting- Virgil?” His father asked.

Taglist

@metaphoricalpluto @scorching-scotch @sockopath @confinesofpersonalknowledge 

Next Chapter

[pixelpoppers]

Bubsy: I’M on Fire??

Once I finished Bubsy: Paws on Fire! (review forthcoming) I happened to check out the Steam global leaderboards. There isn't an overall combined leaderboard, but there is one for each character. I was shocked to see that for Bubsy I was number five, and for Virgil, Woolie, and Arnold I was number three. (My position may have changed since writing this.)

For a moment, I got excited - I'm so used to being completely buried in any leaderboard that it didn't even occur to me that I might be on the first page, let alone in the top five. This was after a completionist playthrough (every achievement and every collectible with every character) but I hadn't otherwise been attempting to max out my combo chains and get the best possible scores. If I wanted to, I could probably top all four leaderboards.

But then I realized that of course the reason for this was that there's only a couple hundred people even on these leaderboards. (At time of writing, 200 for Bubsy, 165 for Virgil, 164 for Woolie, and 130 for Arnold.) And for a game that I like this much - for any game that I like enough to get high scores on, really - I'd much rather it be popular enough for the leaderboards to totally drown me. I don't want to be high on the leaderboards if it means the game is low in the sales charts.

I'd rather have a sequel than a top score.

[dmitri-logan]

Secret Santa Ficlet (A platonic LAMP(no romance, they’re just a big family here) ficlet for Steph!)

//So I wrote a thing for Steph aka @words-to-fuel-the-imagination for “th nice group of nice ppl” group chat Secret Santa! I had it completely finished but then someone( @thatsthat24) decided to release a Sanders Sides vid that included Virgil’s favorite Christmas story so I had to basically rewrite my whole ficlet to keep it accurate. I hope this was what you were looking for, hon! I also love Virgil and Spiderman. Merry Christmas!//

Read it on AO3 here

“Take it easy guys, gals, and nonbinary pals; PEACE OUT!”

As Thomas’s video came to a close, Virgil rose out of his room and into the common area shared by the sides during their “break time” and sat cross-legged on his stoop, holding a book and dressed in a Spiderman onesie. He figured he could give Thomas a little break from his constant presence so the others could help him focus on the last-minute Christmas preparations. He had at least a couple hours, long enough to re-read his favorite Christmas story.

He wasn’t lying when he said A Christmas Carol was his favorite. He enjoyed a Christmas story that had an actual conflict-resolution plot instead of “oh no, the Grinch stole a bunch of toys because he hates Christmas.” And while some people (*cough* Roman *cough) may consider him a Scrooge, he honestly enjoyed Christmas a lot. It was a time where he was able to directly contribute to Thomas’s happiness and excitement by thinking about how horrible the presents could be so he’s always pleasantly surprised no matter what it is, or getting his nerves amped up so he’s extra excited about everything going on.

Virgil settled comfortably on the couch and started reading, losing track of time for the first time in a long while. When he got to his favorite part, where the Ghost of Christmas Future shows Ebenezer that he would die alone and unloved if he continued on with his selfish lifestyle, he began thinking about his past Christmases and his current one. A year ago, he was worried that, when Thomas died at the ripe old age of 103(see, he could be unreasonably optimistic about some things too, Patton) he would be the only part of Thomas that would just fade away, unloved and unnecessary. Now, he knew better. The others said it themselves, he was one of their best friends. He still had his doubts about how much they wanted to deal with him on a daily basis but they made it absolutely clear that he was wanted.

He immersed himself in the novella once again, only to immediately be pulled back to reality by a surprised gasping squeak that he would recognize anywhere. He snapped his book shut and looked up at Patton, his cheerful companion looking like he was almost ready to explode with sheer giddiness.

“You have a onesie too?! I love it!”

Virgil tensed, glancing down at his attire. “Uh.. yeah, I don’t wear it a lot.”

“I had no idea you like Spiderman, Virgil, this is awesome!” Patton snapped into his cat onesie and bounced on the balls of his feet eagerly. “We can be pajama buddies!”

“I.. Yeah, I like him a lot. And this is the Miles Morales suit, so still lots of black. We can’t all have cute animal pajamas.” He stood up, starting to sink back to his room before Logan and Roman rose up into the room as well. “Oh great.”

Roman, a little confused by the sight of Virgil but still very in the Christmas spirit, smiled. “Are we having a Christmas slumber party to celebrate the joyous occasion?”

Patton gasped, “That’s a great idea!” He turned to Logan for his input.

“Considering, we don’t technically slumber, I would not consider this a “slumber” party.” Logan responded before spotting the book in Virgil’s hands. “But perhaps a late-night storytelling?” He offered as a suitable solution.

“A pajama party, and Virgil can read his favorite story to us!” Patton added enthusiastically, directing his attention to Virgil. “What do you say, buddy?”

Virgil shrugged and sat back down on the couch. “I guess.. But I’m not doing voices.”

“No worries, I can provide you with voices as needed. But first, a wardrobe change.” Roman snapped himself into an flashy but comfortable Lion onesie.

Logan nodded and switched into his unicorn onesie.

Patton squealed excitedly. “This is the best night!” He sat down beside Virgil, giving him his personal space after a brief hug.

Roman sat on Patton’s other side, conjuring his own copy of the novella so he could read along with Virgil. “Let’s begin!”

Logan sat down on Virgil’s other side, “I don’t need my own copy, I have all of Dickens’s works memorized.”

“Showoff.” Roman muttered, before being admonished by a look from Patton. “Sorry, force of habit.”

Virgil let everyone get settled before opening the book up to the first page and beginning to read the story to his counterparts. He slowly relaxed, letting Roman take care of the dialogue as he acted as a narrator. Logan occasionally interjected with little factoids about the history behind Charles Dickens’s inspiration for the story and Patton added nonverbal commentary that could only be described as “this novella reading was filmed in front of a live one-person studio audience.” It was… actually pretty awesome, if Virgil was honest with himself. He got to enjoy his favorite story twice in one night, surrounded by people who cared about him while they sat on the couch in the pajamas.

After they had finished the story and they got ready to go back to their respective rooms, Virgil decided to speak up. “This was.. nice. Really nice. Thank you, guys.”

“No need to thank us, kiddo, we wanted to be here.” Patton smiled.

“As if I would pass up an opportunity to polish my voice-acting skills.” Roman scoffed, but offered a kind smirk to Virgil as he sank back to his own room with a flourish and a wave.

“Yes, it was… quite enjoyable to be able to provide trivia you all were actually interested in. This experience was pleasant. Good night Virgil, Patton.” Logan nodded to each of them in turn before sinking away as well.

Virgil grabbed his book and looked at Patton. “This was really nice, Patton. Thanks for suggesting it.” He tried not to hesitate as he spoke, knowing that it made him sound insincere when he had to struggle to get a compliment.

“Well, thank you for agreeing to it, kiddo. I know group activities can be pretty intimidating, and I just love getting to spend time with all of you.” Patton smiled warmly. “How about some hot cocoa before bed?” He asked and conjured up two mugs of “just the right temperature” hot cocoa with a mountain of whipped cream on top of each.

At that, Virgil cracked a small but sincere smile. “Thanks. Merry Christmas, Dad.” He said before immediately regretting his choice of nickname. “That stays between us, yeah?”

Patton looked like he was either going to explode or cry. “Of course, kiddo. Merry Christmas.” He sank out of the room with a whipped-cream-moustached smile on his face.

Virgil sighed and sipped his hot cocoa as a thought ran through his brain, ‘So this is what it’s like to be a family.’ He smiled to himself and took the mug back to his room with him. This was a very merry Christmas indeed. And, for once, he couldn’t find anything wrong with the situation.

END

This is unbetaed and my own independent work, but I don’t own any of the characters mentioned here. Feel free to reblog or like if you like the fic, I don’t write very often anymore so I hope this is okay! 

[oneletterwrites]

Company Mix Up

Summary: Thomas adores cartoons and his dream to work with a company that produces such magic is a reality. Sadly, one branch of the studio is failing and no one can figure out why. He volunteers himself to check on the building and get to the bottom of the problem.

Pairing: Eventual Prinxiety, Logicality, lots of platonic love between them all.

Part 1 | Part 4 |

For the rest of the week Thomas spent his days switching off between helping Roman clean his office, helping Logan mess up his office, making sure Patton had someone to eat lunch with, and even taking the time to head to HR and talk to Virgil. He didn’t have to he knows, but he could feel it that somewhere, they had something to do with the branch not performing as well as it could.

He didn’t want to say they are the ‘problem’, but they sure didn’t seem the best suited to where they are. It got him thinking and scheming for a solution. He tried just helping them do their job but it still ended awkward or with lackluster results.

So he decided to enact Plan B.

Or plan C, he’s not sure which letter he and Joan gave this plan but he likes it a lot more than firing someone.

Thomas puts his hands on his hips, papers in small piles in front of him and the pieces he sort of, kind of, took/stole are front and center. He nods proudly to himself then leaves the conference room to skip on up to the director’s office. He knocks on the open door and Roman spins to face him.

“Thomas! How are you this fabulous day?” His voice booms.

“Pretty good! Hey can I talk to you a second?” He asks and Roman agrees easily. Thomas tells him to meet him in the proper conference room in a few minutes and Roman smugly walks towards the area while Thomas skips out to find the next person in his plan.

He knocks on Logan’s door, waiting patiently for him to open it. He does with a small quick smile before turning to the side to let Thomas into his office space but Thomas stays where he is.

“Logan would you be able to join me for conference right quick?” He asks. Logan gives him an odd look.

“Is this the kind of quick that ends up taking the whole day?” Thomas grins sheepishly and Logan sighs.

“Give me a few minutes to make sure my day is cleared and I will join you.” He says and Thomas tells him which conference room, thanking Logan once again for opening up his day for this. Logan just rolls his eyes.

Unlike the leisurely pace it took Logan to open the door, Patton is in front of him quick and wrapping him in a hug. He’s bursting with energy.

“Thomas! It’s so nice to see you again. How was your weekend? Did you do anything fun?” Thomas laughs and holds up a hand to try and get Patton to be a little more quiet just for a second for him to get his own question is out.

“We can talk about that later, but for right now, can you help me out?” He asks and Patton actually jumps up out of excitement. Together they pack up one of Patton’s portable work laptops for the conference that Patton will not stop asking him questions about. Thomas just smiles at him.

Instead of going right up to the conference room, Thomas brings Patton with him to the HR department.

“Hey Virgil,” Thomas calls softly to startle the representative slightly less. Virgil still jumps a little but no where near as bad as he could. He eyes both him and Patton suspiciously.

“I wanted to ask you if you would join us for a conference?” Thomas asks softly. Patton nods his head but keeps his mouth shut sensing the delicate environment. Virgil raises an eyebrow at him.

“What for?” He’s skeptical. Thomas sighs.

“I have a project that I think you could be the designer for,” He says and though designing things is mostly supposed to be Patton’s job, the animator seems completely okay with his job being offered up.

“What.” Virgil deadpans at him, a glare on his face now. 

“You’re an amazing drawer Virgil, and I think you would be the best for this project.” Thomas says. Patton nods his head though Thomas knows he’s never seen anything Virgil’s drawn. Virgil shrinks in on himself.

“You don’t.. really want me,” He grimaces and Patton gasps.

“Of course we do!” He turns to Thomas. “Who else is we?” There’s a doofy smile on his face and Thomas snorts. He goes back to Virgil who is already shaking his head for rejection.

“I really-” He doesn’t finish his sentence. Thomas sighs again and nods his head.

“Okay, I understand, I still do think you’re the best for the job though. If,” Thomas takes a step towards him and places a gentle hand on Virgil’s shoulder. He flinches away from the touch but not enough to fully get away from it.

“If you decide to join us, you’re more than welcome to,” Thomas takes a pen and writes down which conference room they are in. He smiles and waves to Virgil as he and Patton depart. Patton waves with his whole body and Virgil actually manages a small wave of his hand and turns to cower at his desk just as Thomas starts towards the conference room himself.

“So what are we doing?” Patton asks for the 15th time. Thomas gives him a smirk and just holds the door open to the room where Roman and Logan are already waiting with arms crossed and pouts on their faces.

“You didn’t tell me Mr. Tight Lid would be here,” Roman accuses Thomas right away. Patton shyly takes a seat next to Logan who pushes at his glasses.

“Mr. Sanders is not obligated to tell you anything considering your way of keeping information is all over the room.” Logan quips back and Roman looks ready to stand and challenge him to a duel. He actually does stand when Logan interrupts whatever he may say.

“Though I shall admit to being curious myself,” He then turns his glare to Thomas who stands taller. Patton gives him his full attention and Roman slowly takes a seat, still giving Logan a bad look.

“In the week I’ve been here, I’ve noticed some strange things with you all,” He begins. Roman scoffs hard and offended. Logan pushes at his glasses while Patton covers his mouth.

“Nothing bad of course, just, something a little off, I am proposing a project for you all to work on.” Thomas explains and hands out the little stacks in front of him. Logan rifles through it.

“These are my efficiency notes,” Thomas doesn’t miss the annoyed tone in his voice.

“That’s my idea!” Roman stands again, shaking the papers like they might change if he shakes them hard enough.

“Aww you think flowers on the desk is sweet?” Patton gives Thomas heart eyes as he looks at the motivational aspects. Thomas smiles at him then gives Logan and Roman a more professional look.

“Those notes that I took from you, should have come from the other based on your titles.” They have the sense to look a little sheepish at being called out like so. Logan sighs and tents his hands on the desk.

“So what exactly are you proposing.” It’s more of a statement than question that Logan asks. Thomas takes a deep breath.

“I am proposing that you create Roman’s idea into actuality.” That earns him a cheer from Roman and Patton but a struggling sigh from Logan who once more pushes up his glasses.

“How are we going to do that if you just insinuated that our roles are wrong?” He says. Patton’s cheers stop and he gets that kicked puppy dog look in his eyes. Roman groans at having his joy squished.

“You switch,” Thomas tells him like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Logan you will be in charge of planning and making sure things are done in an orderly manner,” Though he had his doubts, Logan sits a little taller at the idea of being in charge.

“Roman, bring your ideas, all of them, that’s your job.” Roman is all too ready to do just that.

“Patton I’m going to need you to bring general thought to the table as well as keeping spirits high,” Patton wiggles in his seat.

“These spirits will be flying like ghosts on helium!” He says and Roman snorts. Logan rolls his eyes then gives Thomas another questioning look.

“If Patton is to be in charge of frivolities, then who is going to-” The door opens to cut Logan off and they all turn just in time to see Virgil shutting the door by resting his back against it. He shifts awkwardly, hiding behind his hair, and glaring at the ground when he finds them all looking at him. Thomas goes to him, placing a hand on his shoulder gently.

“Virgil, to answer your question Logan, will be in charge of design animation,” Thomas gives Virgil a reassuring smile which is hardly returned. Patton claps his hands.

“I’m so glad you decided to join us!” His voice could make flowers grow. Virgil just takes a seat next to Roman who is still standing. His entire body hunched in a circle, wanting nothing more than to not be seen. Thomas slides him one of the tiny stacks of papers and Virgil takes the distraction thankfully.

“This is. Odd,” Logan says. Patton giggles.

“But it’s going to be fun!” He gets a little too close to Logan who adjusts his glasses at the sudden proximity to his person. He clears his throat.

“Well I suppose,” He’s almost stammering. He manages to collect himself and turn to Roman.

“What is the idea we are to work with?” He has a pen in his hand at the ready on a notebook Thomas swear he pulled out of no where. He takes a seat as Roman’s wide smile come full view. He swivels his chair and gracefully puts a foot on it to pose. His stomp causes Virgil to jump in his seat.

“It’s about a boy who has magic powers, but the powers are given to him by his mother. And she passes leaving him to live with his father figure and the mother’s friends who also have powers but that are different than the ones she had and there’s an entire hierarchy and war that went on and there are secrets around every corner and the boy is trying to learn how to-”

“Breathe Roman,” Patton says softly with a warm smile on his face. Roman takes a dramatic breath in, and launches right back into his idea. He waves his arms and begins to pace around the room, sliding on the floor to be dramatic and unleashing every idea he’s had. Thomas can’t help but laugh at bits, remembering random statements from papers he helped Roman sort not so long ago.

“And of course it’s hard for him to do so because he’s never known her and he has no idea what he’s supposed to do or anything and it doesn’t help her friends are hiding things from him.” Roman takes another deep breath and stops talking for a moment, shocking everyone in the room that he’s silent.

“That’s wonderful!” Patton exclaims reaching across the table. Roman laughs boisterously and takes one of Patton’s hands to squeeze it.

“I know isn’t it?” He boasts. Logan flips a few papers, most of them in his hand notebook, taking notes on the plot lines and character aspects. He then rifles through the stack Thomas gave him to the back page.

“This character description, did you read it Roman?” Logan asks as he scans the page. Everyone flips to that page and Virgil sinks, not before giving Thomas a look of annoyance, and panic.

“It sounds cute!” Patton says looking to them all. Roman glares at the page most of all before dropping it.

“I had pictured them to be a bit more,” He waves his hand about. “Fluffy.” He says and Patton snorts. Thomas gives Virgil an encouraging look. With an exasperated sigh Virgil pulls out his sketch book and flips it open to drop it on the table to the design he drew, the one described in their stack. Patton coos while Logan nods his head approvingly.

It’s Roman who gives the most pause, dragging the sketch book closer to himself to scrutinize it. Virgil twitches, body ready to bolt at any second. Roman pushes it back to him, leaning far into his personal space.

“Can you make his hair fluffier?” He asks, deadly serious. Virgil slowly takes his pencil out and his sketch book to mess with the design. It’s silent as he works.

“THAT!” Roman shouts and promptly makes Virgil draw a long line across his sketch book, almost ruining the design. He glares up at Roman.

“What the hell?” He asks but for the most part goes ignored by the creative mastermind. Patton offers him a reassuring hand and Thomas does the same. Virgil decided to sulk.

“This is exactly what it should be! Wonderful!” He cheers, twirling around with the book in his hands. At the praise however, the beginning of a smile makes it’s way to Virgil’s face.

“Now that we have at least the main character design, shall we work on the others?” Logan suggests. Roman pauses his laughter to give Virgil back his book a lot more gently this time. Virgil awaits impatiently for Roman to describe his characters.

And Roman does describe them. In extreme length and extreme detail.

Virgil is lucky Logan is taking notes and Patton reminds Roman to slow down sometimes otherwise his sketches would be way more off. He can’t get them all down right away but Logan goes to copy all his notes for them all.

The conference ends on that note. With Virgil taking the designs to work on sketches and Logan to work on a cohesive plot line from the scattered idea Roman gave. Patton is just happy to be included.

“This is amazing,” The bubbly not so much an animator any more says to him after the long conference is done with. Thomas laughs and bumps him playfully.

“Glad you get to be working in a closer group?”

“So much!” Patton gives him a quick hug and runs off. Thomas is left to his small office with more papers with him and a clearer picture in mind as to how this little project will work out.

[tb5-heavenward]

artwork by the fantastically talented @birdologist and animation by the lodestar of my heart, the inimitable @awkwardarbor

One more chapter to go, and then it’s on to our epilogue.

You can find Heavenward on Tumblr // Ao3 // ff.net

a_moment_of_dawn - part 19

The letter is printed on real, actual paper. Usually it sits in his desk drawer, still in its torn open envelope, a secret he secretly sort of wants someone to catch him with. More than once he's left the top drawer open, just halfway, in case Grandma or Scott happen to be in his room for whatever reason, and just happen to feel inclined to grossly invade his privacy. So far both Scott and Grandma have disappointed him. As far as he knows, the letter's still his secret and his secret only.

Secret or not, occasionally he takes it out and rereads it, and though he always remembers the gist of the contents, it's always surprising to him just how flattering it actually is. Words like "it is our sincere pleasure" and "bright and widely gifted" and "standout candidate from our thousands of applicants". A lot of grand talk about kindred spirits and a history of excellence. The sort of promising language that had almost—almost—might've made him excited about what the future might hold.

He'd spent a lot of time trying to work out just how he wanted to tell John. Obviously it would have to be John he told first. He'd thought about sneaking the letter in with one of John's monthly supply shipments, letting him find it for himself—but he also wanted to be there in person, wanted to see the look on his brother's face. So that was no good.

He'd tried to come up with some plausible, non-crisis based excuse to get back into orbit, back out to TB5 before his next scheduled cargo drop off. But it costs about a quarter of a million dollars to launch TB3, and so just popping into orbit on a whim hasn't ever really been an option, for Alan, and his excuses for getting into space generally need to be really good excuses. Lives need to be on the line, for Alan to get into orbit. And waiting for his next scheduled supply run would've meant waiting 'til October—too late.

Ultimately, as he'd started to let the idea fade out of possibility, he'd even entertained some wildly improbable schemes designed to get John to come down, off of TB5, and back home, so that Alan could tell him. So that it could be a surprise that he dropped into the middle of a welcome home party for his brother, and a reason for John to stay on Earth for a while. Besides John, he still needed to drop the news on the rest of the family, and figure out how completely his life was going to change as a result, and whether or not he really wanted it to.

It just had to be John who heard first.

But then, EOS. And malaria. And with everything that had followed, even if it had gotten him back on the ground, the complete and total collapse of John's life as he'd known it has been a fairly compelling reason not to bring it up. The sum total of everything that's happened to John makes Alan's letter seem like such a small, pathetic thing. Like bringing it up now would be a feeble, futile gesture, something pitiful and naive. As though John could possibly find a way to be happy for or proud of his little brother, in the face of everything he's lost. It's stupid. It would be stupid to even mention it.

It's probably too late, now, anyway. It's the twenty-second of August. Classes start on the seventh of September. He needs to be registered before that, needs to have tuition and everything all sorted out and in order. Sure, they've got the sort of money that just makes this kind of thing just happen, whatever the obstacles. His family's name is the kind of name that scissors effortlessly through red tape, cuts through bureaucracy like butter. But still. It's not much more than two weeks. And anyway, it's the worst possible time for something like this. Alan shouldn't even be considering it, really. He doesn't think he even really wants to go.

So Alan's not sure what he's doing, lying awake at six AM, reading and rereading the stupid letter. He's not sure why he folds it up and slips it back in its envelope. He's not sure what compels him to get up, out of bed, and creep to his bedroom door, and then out into the hallway. No one else is going to be up. John's definitely not going to be up. There aren't a lot of reasons for his brother to want to inhabit the waking world at present, the side of reality where he's sick and bereaved, and still fresh in the failure of a task he'd thought was most important thing in the world.

And in light of those circumstances, he's not sure why he wants to just slip the envelope beneath John's door, and if John's got the capacity to care one way or the other about the fact that Alan's been accepted to MIT, then that can be John's choice.

Except when he comes to the door of John's room, he finds it's been left hanging halfway open.

In and of itself, this isn't enough to make him panic. But he does feel his throat constrict just slightly, as he pushes open the bedroom door and finds the bed empty, and the light in the bathroom off. The notion of John not being where he's supposed to be is a fairly new addition to Alan's list of major fears. Considering John had spent nearly three years occupying exactly the one place he was always supposed to, it's probably not surprising that recent events have given Alan a fairly acute phobia of being unable to find his brother.

Alan turns the light on and checks the bathroom anyway, finds it cold and empty and with the shower still freshly wet, a heap of clothing on the floor. Just a little bit frantic, exiting the bathroom, he pushes the disarrayed sheets and blankets off the bed, but it's obviously empty. The light in the closet is on, shining beneath the closed door, but he's not there, either. There's just a discarded towel, still damp, and clothing all over the floor. John's not here, but Alan calls his name anyway, just once, and his voice comes out small and flat and falls through the silence like a smooth stone through still water.

Alan's starting to get scared.

It's not like he could've gone anywhere. It's not like he would've left, either, not like he has anywhere to go. And he wouldn't, he just wouldn't. After everything, John has to know he has to stop. Alan hasn't even started to look for him properly yet, all that's happened so far is just that John hadn't been where he was expected. That's all it is. John's probably just down in the kitchen or he's gone to the lounge or he's just somewhere Alan hasn't looked yet, because Alan hasn't even looked anywhere. The fear starting to churn in the pit of his stomach is just nerves, it's just the fact that it's too early and he hasn't had enough sleep.

But better safe than sorry.

So he leaves John's room to go and wake Virgil, going straight to high alert. It's only luck that he happens to glance out the window, only anxiety that has him cast his eyes down to the sea, out over the terrace. And for all that he's not expecting to see him, it's somehow not really surprising that he spots his brother, sitting alone at the edge of the terrace, with very, very little between him and about a fifty foot fall.

Alan doesn't entirely know how to contend with the feeling that washes over him, then. The distant silhouette of his big brother, his best and favourite brother, outlined against the slowly lightening sky. John's home. John's finally home, after all these years and all this anguish, he's finally back, finally been run to ground. He's home and he's whole and he's safe and he's healing, and yet after all of it, after everything he's put himself through—to say nothing of his family and his friends and all the people who love him—he's still found himself another edge. Still put himself at the brink of it.

But it's not what it looks like. Somehow Alan knows that, even as he lets out a shaky deep breath and makes for the glass door out onto the terrace—this is nothing like the worst thing Alan could've caught his brother at. Because if the worst had been the case, he's pretty sure he wouldn't have caught John at all. John would just be gone.

But that isn't what this is. Even after everything he's been through, at the very lowest point in his life thus far, Alan knows John better than that. He's seen what it "killing himself" looks like on John, and it doesn't look like this.

Still, he can't quite help the first thing he says as he shoves open the terrace door and pads across the concrete in his bare feet. With the early morning breeze catching his voice, a little sharper, sterner than he means it to be, Alan snaps an order, "John, come away from there."

John hasn't heard him approach. Alan can tell by the way he starts and immediately turns away from the horizon, already pulling one of his legs up and back onto the solidity of the terrace. Maybe it's the light of morning, or something in the way he holds himself, or just the way he looks up like he's been caught at something—but for the first time since he's been home, at least to Alan, John looks alarmingly, arrestingly young.

And Alan's still not used to feeling like an adult in John's company. John, more than anyone else, has always made Alan feel as though he's still a bit of a child. Standing about ten feet back from his brother, still in his pajamas, with rocketships printed on his flannel pants and an old t-shirt of Gordon's with some inane nonsense all but faded from the front—suddenly all Alan wants is to be a little brother again.

So he doesn't wait for John to start the conversation, because John just doesn't, these days. Instead Alan crosses the few feet of distance between them, sits down next to his brother, and shoves the letter against his elbow, looking away as he does so. It takes a moment for John to realize he's expected to take it, and when he does, Alan doesn't say anything. Alan doesn't watch. He just listens as John pulls the letter out of its envelope, starts to read.

He's not sure if the rustle of paper he hears is the faint breeze, or a tremor in his brother's hand. He's not sure how quickly John reads, or how well he comprehends anything these days. It seems like a long, long time before John speaks, and his voice is soft, a little husky as he says, stating the obvious, "You got into MIT."

Alan nods, though John's not looking at him. "Yeah."

"When did you get this?"

The date's printed at the top, but Alan doesn't point that out, doesn't remember it offhand, anyway. "A while back. I dunno." He steals a glimpse of the page, and it's definitely a tremor in his brother's hand that makes it difficult to read the date John's missed. "April, I guess."

"April." The incredulity in his tone is a surprise, and Alan glances up, but John's still staring at the letter. This time Alan watches as his pale blue eyes skim over the text again, rapid. Faster than he'd expected, but then, he supposes John's always been a fast reader. "It's...I-I thought...thought this was—" Abruptly John pauses, swallows, and his voice has steadied slightly when he continues, "—mine. I thought it was mine. I had to check the name at the top. It reads exactly the same as the one I got. Ages ago. But...April? This April. April was..." he trails off, failing to find the word that Alan supplies for him—

"Before."

It's as good a word as any to represent the other side of the rent in John's life, the line that divides his now from her, then. It fails to encompass the magnitude of the after, but for now, before serves its purpose.

"...Yeah." John nods once, a quick, tight little gesture. He folds the letter back up, and his fingertips crease it sharply in thirds. He doesn't hand it back, continues to run his fingers around the edge of the folds, sharpening them further. It's a repetitive, anxious motion, from long, nervous fingers. He'll give himself a papercut if he's not careful, though it would probably hardly even be noticeable, amidst the scars that already crisscross the pads of his fingers. He seems distant, disconnected and almost confused, as he goes on, "But if...I-I mean—April? If it was all the way back in April, why didn't you say?"

Alan shrugs. Kicks his feet, hanging off the edge of the terrace, and admits the truth, though he worries it's only going to make his brother feel bad, "Wanted to tell you in person. But I couldn't figure out when I was gonna get to see you next. And then when I did—" It had been May. Alan shrugs again, pretends indifference to the memory of his brother, nearly suffocating in open space, the occasion that had brought Alan back into orbit, back to TB5. "Bad timing."

"...Oh."

Silence falls between them. John's still looking at the letter in his hands, but he's stopped turning it over and over, opened it back up again. The sky grows pale and the horizon glows a soft, ruddy gold. Soon the sun will rise and add another day to his big brother's one-day-at-a-time kind of a life. For a long few moments Alan stares down over the craggy cliffs and scrubby plant life and idly finds himself thinking about just how inhospitable the island is. It's rugged and beautiful, in its way, at the same time that it's raw and lonely and barren, a fortress in the middle of the sea.

But it's still home.

Although, proportionate to the amount of life they've all lived, the island's been home to Alan for longer than its been home to his brothers; ten years, over half his life. John, by contrast, had been seventeen when he started college, had gone straight from their home in Kansas to an off-campus apartment in Boston, where he'd lived alone until he was twenty-one. Then it had been to Houston, to train with the WWSA, and then into Low Earth Orbit, and Camp Hadfield. And after that, it had been up to TB5 itself, where his rotations used to be only three months long, and then a month off, at home on the island. And then Dad had vanished. And then John had left. And doing the math in his head, Alan's starting to realize that maybe Tracy Island has just never been home to John, the way it is for the rest of the family. Proportionate to the ten years for which Tracy Island has been home to the Tracy family, John's spent very, very few of them actually at home. All told, John probably spent more years in Boston than he has on the island.

So it's possible that he won't actually understand the reasons why, when Alan takes a deep breath, steels himself, and says, "I'm not gonna go."

He makes the decision in the same moment he says it; that he's not going. The timing's all wrong. Maybe spring. Maybe next autumn. But not now, there's no way he could do it now. Not with his big brother in the state he is, not like this. He should've let it stay a secret. He should've gotten rid of the letter entirely, pretended to himself that he'd never gotten it. He's not even sure why he's told John at all, it's not like John could possibly bring himself to actually care.

And all of this wants to come spilling out of him, but he doesn't say anything.

For a long time, John doesn't either. But then—

"Why not?"

Because I still don't think I actually even know if I really even want to. Because I only even applied at all because I wanted to make you proud. Because I don't know why I should, I'm already doing what I want. Because even when I try to be, I'm not like you, I'm scared of being all on my own. Because I don't wanna leave home and be gone for four whole years. Because you need me here. Because I'm not leaving you like this. Because I bailed on you once before, and everything fell apart.

"Lotsa reasons."

"You don't want to?"

Alan shrugs, shifts where he sits and lets his feet dangle, kicks them lightly in the open air. "I dunno."

"Is there somewhere else you were more interested in, or—"

"I only applied to MIT." It goes unsaid that if Alan's even interested in college at all, then he's only interested in the same one John had attended. "I just wanted to...I dunno, just wanted to see, I guess. It's all online. It was easy."

There's a funny sort of pause and then John's a little hesitant when he asks, "You had to know they'd take you?"

Alan's not sure why John's made that question sound rhetorical, as though it's an obviously foregone conclusion. It hadn't been, in Alan's mind. But the line of inquiry seems to be bringing out something like curiosity in his brother, like John's actually engaged. Maybe John might be grateful for a distraction. He looks up to find he's being regarded with something that might even be interest. He shrugs again and drops his gaze, embarrassed. "Maybe. I guess. I get good grades. I guess my SAT was pretty okay."

That sparks something, there's the faintest note of warmth in John's tone when he says, "Allie, you scored a 1580. That's fifty points better than I did."

Alan hadn't known that. He's heard John say it before—that there's empirical proof that Alan's the smarter out of the pair of them—but he'd always brushed it off as his big brother attempting to appeal to his ego whenever he felt like whining about school. "I only took it to make Virgil shut up about it. The adviser I emailed said the test scores aren't really that important."

"They're kind of important when they're only twenty points shy of perfect. That's not nothing, Alan."

There's an intensity to John now, and this is is starting to get a little surreal. This is the first time Alan's actually sat down and really talked to John, since he's been home, and they're talking about the same sort of thing they'd always talked about, before. If it weren't for the shadows beneath his eyes, the gauntness of his face, the fact that he's actually here and not a translucent blue hologram—things could almost be normal. They're not, but for a moment, Alan almost imagines that they could be. "Yeah, well. I'm your kid brother. I'm sure that went a long way."

"I'm almost positive it didn't."

"That'd be two whole Thunderbirds for their roster. That's probably all it was."

"That's not how colleges work."

"That's not what Gordon said. Suck it, Caltech."

John's laugh surprises both of them, a brief ghost of a sound, the sort of laugh that you'd barely know is a laugh at all, unless you're the sort of person who knows John well. Impulsively, sitting as close to each other as they are, Alan knocks his knee against his brother's, a brief, affectionate gesture, the both of them sitting together at the edge. The moment doesn't last, but it definitely existed. Alan didn't imagine that.

It makes the way John gets quiet again that much more poignant, only serves to make him sound so much more disappointed, when he says, "But you're not going."

Alan doesn't expect to feel as uncomfortable, as guilty as he does, as he hedges, "Well, I mean..."

Until recently, Alan's had good reason to believe that he knows John better than anyone else does; better than the rest of his brothers, for sure. The flip side of that coin is that John knows him equally well, if not better. Alan might be smarter on paper, but John's always had a certain way with people. His voice when he speaks next is soft, but certain, "I would really, really hate to be why you don't do this, Alan. Please, don't use me as an excuse."

Alan deflates at that, feels his shoulders drop and heaves a sigh. "It's not an excuse. It's a reason—a good reason. Dad's not here. Scott's not here. Virgil's been acting like an ass. And Gordon just left—"

John starts to cut him off, "—I don't mind about—"

"I do," Alan interrupts. "You're home. You're finally home—I've been waiting forever for you to just be home. And maybe you don't want anyone else to be here, and maybe the rest of them can just tell, and that's...I mean, that's whatever. We're your family, but whatever. I know everything's all fucked up, but you...you...I...just, god, John. When I found you, you were dying. I really didn't believe you were even gonna make it home. But now you're here, and you need help. So I'm not going anywhere."

The pause that follows is long enough that it's almost awkward, makes Alan feel like he's just said something stupid, the sort of naive, worthless platitude that won't make any difference, will only make things worse, somehow.

"No." There's not a lot of force in it, just a single syllable, simply stated. There's not even that much pain in John's voice, just an awful, hollow sort of honesty. "Alan, you can't help with this."

Silence falls again. That probably shouldn't hurt as much as it does. Maybe it only hurts because deep down Alan knows it's true—that there's nothing Alan can offer that's going to make this any easier. The only thing he'd been able to think of was his acceptance letter, meant to be tiny little bright spot; something to take John's mind off everything he's lost. Something to remind him of happier days.

And the idea hits him like a lightning strike.

It's such a sudden, abrupt sort of thought that he just blurts it out without even properly thinking about it— "Come with me."

It's nearly sunrise. That's the reason John's out here, to watch the sun come up. And he misunderstands, because Alan's straightened up and sat back from the edge of the terrace, like he means to get up and go. John shakes his head and keeps looking out towards the horizon. "Soon. I just...sorry, Alan, I didn't mean...I'm sorry. Just give me a few more minutes and I'll come inside, I just wanted—"

"No, I mean, I'll go if you come with me. To Boston, to MIT." In spite of himself, in spite of the circumstances, Alan's starting to get excited. "You can help me."

"Alan—"

John sounds so tired, suddenly, as though the very thought exhausts him. But Alan's seen a glimmer of hope at the core of the idea, and he presses on, anxiety mingling with excitement as he trips and stammers through the list of reasons why this could work, "It's...it's not just because of you that I don't wanna go; it's all of it. When you were it college, you always made it seem like it would be easy, and maybe for you it was—but it's hard, for me. It's leaving home and being away from everyone and everything—a-and I don't...I don't even know how any of this works. College. I...I don't wanna be the only one of us who doesn't go, but...I mean, I'm already doing what I want to be doing. Why would I even want to do anything else?"

"Alan, this is the only thing you've ever done. That's why you should go."

It's just the tiniest, barest indication of John's old self, a flicker of light in a deep dark well, manifested in the tendency to point out the obvious truths in Alan's life. "That's why it's hard, too, though."

There's an obvious truth here, waiting to be pointed out. John probably isn't quite together enough to realize that it's a baited trap, when he points out, "MIT isn't anywhere near the same league as some of the hardest things you've done, Allie."

And Alan probably shouldn't feel the little thrill of satisfaction that he does, managing to outmaneuver his older brother—John's hardly at his best, after all—but it's hard not to be a little bit proud of himself, when he says, "But I always had you, when I did those things."

John doesn't seem to have an answer for that, so Alan goes on, carefully now, having to find the words to speak around a truth that hurts so much, "Maybe I'm just being selfish, asking you to come with me—but if you really want me to go, I can't go without you. I'm just gonna be wherever you are. I know I'm not who you want, right now. I know you loved her and I know she loved you, and I wish she wasn't gone. But...John, you're my brother and I love you, too. I know I can't help you with this, but—I do know the last thing she told me was not to let you be alone. That's the last thing she wanted, so for now it's all I want. Maybe it'll help. Probably it won't. But it's just what I've gotta do."

The sun's almost risen. John hasn't taken his eyes from the horizon, and he still holds Alan's letter in his hands, though the tremor in them seems to have stopped. It's not to say that Alan's gotten desensitized to the sight of his brother with tears in his eyes, tracks of dawn light glistening on his cheeks—but it's no longer the internally world-ending event that it had been the first time. It's just John, and this is just what life is for John, right now.

What does surprise him is the way his big brother's arm falls around his shoulders, the way he gets pulled close, in a way he hasn't in years. It's just automatic to wrap his arms around John's torso, then, and to press his face against John's shoulder. It's not a "yes". It's not even a "maybe". But when his brother says, "Thank you," softly and with a hand gripping Alan's shoulder, in the same moment that the sun breaks over the horizon—for Alan, it's enough.