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fitzs-trained-monkey · 3 years

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Chapter Nineteen: A Psychotic Break

Rated PG

Masterlist

~Oh, she's sweet but a psycho

A little bit psycho

At night she screamin'

"I'm-ma-ma-ma out my mind"

Oh, she's sweet but a Psycho~

"HOW DO YOU KNOW SAM AND DEAN?!" He shouted.

It took effort, but I didn't flinch. I blinked and, slowly, raised that eyebrow again. Though I couldn't see his eyes, I could feel the annoyance rising in his mind.

"Tell ya what," I said, putting on my best 'let's make a deal' face, "I'm a reasonable girl, so if you tell me just one thing, then I'll tell ya anything you want to know."

"Hmmm..." The guy studied me, walking in a circle around my chair and eating his lolli-pop.

Normally, I'd be scared out of my wits. This entity in front of me, whoever he was, was clearly immensely powerful; warping reality on that scale isn't exactly a party trick. Just by looking at the scene around me, I knew this guy wasn't Loki. Loki was never this powerful. The Norse god wasn't capable of a full-on reality shift. As long as you knew it was an illusion, Loki couldn't make his illusions solid. Whoever was talking to me now, however, had made four solid copies of himself. It would take an immense amount of raw power to do something like that. One would think that a being with this much power would scare me more than Loki just on principle.

But he didn't.

For some strange reason, he didn't. There was just something about this guy, quite opposite to the original owner of the face he was wearing, that told me he meant no real harm. I didn't want to mess with any more heads but a quick poke around his emotions told me that this guy was a friend to the Winchesters; he was fond of them actually. A part of him looked up to the Winchesters and another part felt like he owed them something. So, if I was their friend, then this entity wasn't going to harm me.

All mind reading and prior knowledge aside, I just wasn't intimidated by him. Maybe it was the cherry-flavored lolli-pop stuck in his mouth. Or maybe it was the height. I'm not one to talk about being vertically challenged but this guy was no Sam Winchester, that was for sure.

"It's up to you." I shrugged, spreading my hands. "But I want you to know, that I have literal days to sit here and not say a word."

The man chuckled and pulled the lolli-pop from his mouth.

"Well, I'd like you to know that I am very good at getting people to talk." He paused, tilting his head to the side as if thinking about something. "Not as good as Castiel o'course. Now, that guy could make em' sing. Wowie!"

The man didn't seem to be making a threat as much as an observation. I could feel my nose scrunch up with discomfort for thoughts of what Castiel might do to me if he ever found out my secret. Would he torture me?

I pushed the thought away and wiped the discomfort from my face, replacing it with a smirk. Now was not the time for grim thoughts.

"I think you'll find that I have an extraordinary talent for saying 'no'," I said, leaning forward and folding my hands together on top of the table.

"You think so?" He challenged, amused by the tiny child that thought she could beat him.

I shrugged.

"It's one of my charms. Besides, are you really gonna torture a kid?" I pointed out. I had to remember to use my physical age as the tool it was.

"Of course not!" The man scoffed, waving a hand, "That's low; even for me."

"Guess we're at a stalemate then!" I sighed.

"Hmm." The man twisted the stick of his Lolli-pop in between his fingers. "What if I were to ask really nicely?"

"I'd say 'no'."

"What if I said 'please'?"

"I'd say 'no'."

"What if I gave you candy?"

"I'd be tempted, then I'd be creeped out, then I'd say 'no'." I grinned at him. The man frowned and pointed his lolli-pop at me accusingly.

"You know, for an eight-year-old or whatever you are, you sure don't act like a kid," He said, I couldn't see past his stupid reflective glasses but I thought he was narrowing his eyes.

"Oh, sorry. Is this better?" I cleared my throat in a very mature way before giving him my best pouty frown and doe-eyed puppy look.

"Mommy tol' me nevur to take candwy fwum stwangurs," I said in an innocent baby voice.

"Hmmm. It's close, but you're still acting just a smidge too old. Maybe a 'goo-goo ga-ga' would help!" He smirked. He'd turned my own sass against me. This guy was good. I kinda wanted to punch him.

"Nah, I don't think it would work," I said, smiling thinly.

"Aw, that's a shame. So how old are you really?" He asked.

"No."

"C'mon!"

"No."

"Geez, kiddo. You are really good at saying that, aren't you?" He tried.

I didn't answer. I just smiled at him, pleasantly. The man rolled his eyes, cursing under his breath.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," He muttered. He turned to me. "Fine! What's your question, kid?"

I folded my hands in my lap and collected my thoughts. He couldn't read my mind, I knew. I felt like a sphinx of stone. Speaking as calmly as I could, I asked my question.

"Earlier, when I called you Loki, you said 'wrong religion' and you said you'd killed him; I'm guessing for a slice of revenge. So, my question for you is this: What's the name of the one that talks to you when you're all alone?"

The man shifted his weight and tugged at the collar of his stupid police outfit. The color drained from his face and all his muscles tightened. He clenched his lolli-pop in his teeth, pressing so hard that it shattered. Moving to grab another, he stuck quivering hands into his pockets, but he didn't remove them. The man raised an eyebrow at me and forced a laugh. He was uncomfortable, deeply so, and afraid of something. Afraid not of the thing itself, but the memory of it. Something was haunting him. I could see it in his eyes. All that time alone.

Using my power, I pulled on that fear.

"That's it?" He scoffed faking nonchalance. I shrugged, simply.

"That's it."

"Call me the Trickster." The man smirked. He ripped off those stupid sunglasses and leaned into a mocking sort of bow. "Pleasure to meet ya, kiddo! No, I don't answer fan-mail."

I tilted my head and kept smiling at him, raising an eyebrow expectantly. I didn't speak. The man's smirk shrank from his face as he slowly straightened back up, regarding me with a suspicious and cautious expression. His feet shifted him a little further away from me.

"What's that smile for?" He asked.

"You didn't answer my question, Mr. Trickster." I kept my voice that same unsettling calm and pulled harder on his fear, feeling it rise and crowd his mind. The guy calling himself the trickster pretended to think about my statement.

"Yeah, no; I'm pretty sure I did." He said, nodding. I smiled wider.

“No, you didn’t.”

“Your question doesn’t make sense, kid.” His voice was harsh and biting.

“Yes, it does.”

“Well, I sure as Hell don’t understand it.”

“Yes, you do.”

The man forced a laugh, but it only came off as nervous; he shook his finger at me.

“Are you a sphinx or something?”

"Only in the metaphorical sense, and you are not so clever as you think."

The man glared at me, his lip curling into a scowl. He leaned against the table and looked down at me. I'd made a wrong move; he was angry now, but I could still fix this.

"And you are way too clever for a kid."

"You're right." I nodded.

"Ya gonna tell me why?"

I leaned forward, looking him dead in the eyes. I grasped onto his fear and yanked on it as hard as I could without making it too suspicious.

"No."

The man scowled, glaring down at me. I kept my face impassive and stared back up at him. It was a battle of wills. Who would be the first to look away? Who would be the first to break?

Not me.

The man cast his eyes to the ceiling, throwing his hands into the air.

"GABRIEL!" He shouted. "My name is Gabriel!”

“You’re the angel?”

“Archangel and yes. Ya happy?!" He asked bitingly.

I smiled again, this time in a much more childish way.

"Yes."

I released my hold on Gabriel’s emotions and folded my hands in my lap. Gabriel nodded briskly. His stupid police getup disappeared, replaced by his outfit from earlier, a white t-shirt beneath a brown leather jacket, and a pair of standard jeans. Across the table from me, a second metal chair appeared out of nowhere and Gabriel pulled it out and sat. Folding his hands in front of him on the tabletop as I had previously done, he studied my face.

“My turn now, right?” He asked.

“That was the deal,” I replied with a shrug, returning to my usual sarcastic ways.

“Alrighty. You like games, kid?” He spoke the word as if he didn’t believe it was true. “Let’s play a game.”

“Ooh goodie! What game? Is it checkers? I’m great at checkers.” I rubbed my hands together in faux excitement.

“It’s easy,” Gabriel smirked. “You think you’re clever? Let’s see how clever. I ask you up to fifteen questions per topic, and you have to answer them. But, here’s the catch: You can only answer with one word. Got it?”

I was about to open my mouth to speak but, taking a look at the expression on the archangel’s face told me that this confirmation of my understanding was his little game’s first round. I pursed my lips, reforming my reply.

“Why?” I asked.

“Why only one word?” He clarified.

“Yeah.”

Gabriel’s eyes widened a bit and he nodded as if understanding something.

“Well, because I’m a professional liar and I know that it is much harder to tell a lie if you can’t provide details. You lie, you lose. And I don’t have to read your mind to know if you’re lying. So, one word,” He explained. I nodded.

“Ready to play?”

“Yes.”

Suddenly, we were sitting in the bunker’s library. Gabriel was smirking at me. The game was on.

It was time to see if I was smarter than a five-billion-year-old cosmic entity. My bets were on no.

***

“Let’s start out easy, shall we? How did you meet the Winchesters?” Gabriel asked.

He watched her face. This game was a test, it was all about the words she chose and the way she said them. The more abstract the child’s answers, the cleverer the kid was. Details of the story she was barely telling registered in the Archangel’s mind; one after the other, like lines on a page.

“Alleyway,” The child answered. Interesting already.

“What happened in the alleyway?”

“Salvaged.” Thinks herself lesser in value.

“From what?”

“Idiots.” Views some as beneath her. Strange.

“Why did the idiots attack you?”

“Inebriated.” Drunk. Why not say drunk? Why choose the word inebriated?

“Were the inebriated idiots all the Winchesters salvaged you from?”

“Abridged.” Another abstract answer. Yes!

“What else was in that alleyway?”

“Suffering.”

“Physical pain or otherwise? Elaborate.”

“All-encompassing.” Hyphenating, clever move.

“Cheater, cheater, pumpkin eater! Who said you could hyphenate?” Gabriel spoke accusingly. The girl shrugged with an innocent expression on her face.

“Unstipulated.” Exploiting loopholes; perfect.

“So why was this suffering of yours all-encompassing? What was causing it?” He asked, getting back to the point.

“Shiver.” Not shivering but shiver. Why only say shiver?

“Were you in danger of dying by hypothermia?”

“Agony.”

“But not death?” This question was more directed toward himself, but the girl answered anyway.

“Enduring.” Fierce pain but not death.

“Enduring for what?”

“Victorious.”

“Why do you want to win?”

“Obligation.”

“Obligation to what?”

“Brother.”

“Why?”

“Nevermore,” She said, coolly.

Edger Allen Poe: The Raven: Verse 14; Quoth the Raven “Nevermore”

Time to switch topics.

“Why did the Winchesters help you?”

She shrugged.

“Screamed.” Simple enough. Disappointingly simple.

“Why were you in the alleyway?”

The girl paused.

“Caution.” She said, slowly. Yet she had been attacked. That was an interesting answer.

“Caution for what?”

“Harm.”

Gabriel nodded, that was a little confusing, but he was sure he would figure it out eventually.

“So, were you looking for the Winchesters, or did they find you by chance?”

The girl thought about this for a bit before answering. Just the pause she had taken was interesting, that meant the answer was more complicated than a yes or a no.

“Watching,” She decided.

“Why were you watching?”

“Waiting.” This was getting better by the second.

“Waiting for what?”

She paused again.

“Seek.” There was a secret smile in her eyes when she answered this time. She thinks she has an advantage. Maybe she does…

“Where was this?”

“Michigan.”

“What town?”

It was a trick question; her answer would have to be two words; there was no avoiding it. Only a few minutes into his little game and he was already trying to trip the girl up. That wasn’t cheating or anything; if this kid thought that beating him was going to be a cakewalk then she had another thing coming.

“Two,” She replied.

“The town’s name is two words?” He asked her only to be sure of the context.

“Yes.”

“Okay, answer the question anyway. If I don’t know the town when you give me the word, then you lose.” He challenged. The girl took a second to think.

“Ferry.”

“Was the town Copper Harbor, Michigan?”

The girl grinned.

“Yep.”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow and nodded, the smirk on his face growing wider. This kid was clever. He was getting excited. For the first time in he didn’t know how many millennia, Gabriel had a decent game to play, and for the first time in just as many years, he finally had someone to play with. For as long as the archangel could remember, he had loved a good game. He had always relished the challenge of solving a brilliant puzzle or capturing an opponent’s king. When chess had been invented, he had become a master. Gabriel adored beating people at things. He loved to best them, yes, but not only that. He loved to teach them something too; to show them how they could be better. But for as long as he had lived, Gabriel had never been given a real challenge. His brothers could have given him one of course, but they were so predictable and they had always been fighting. They had never cared to really play with him; not the sort of game he had wanted. A game of wits. A game of minds.

For someone who had been stuck on Earth as long as he had, things just got so boring. It wasn’t as if he could leave the planet; despite how much he had desperately wanted to. He had to stay and honor the terms of his witness protection agreement with Loki. After a while, no game on the planet could capture his interest or cure his horrid boredom. The only minor distraction he’d had was the humans.

Gabriel thought humans were wonderful things. Though, for a much different reason than his little brother, Castiel, did. Castiel loved humans for their hearts; Gabriel loved them for their minds. Not all of them were entertaining of course; he wasn’t lucky enough for that. The fact of his life was that there was only a disappointing handful of interesting individuals out there to entertain him. The archangel had had a hay-day when he’d met Einstein! (And you wonder why everyone thought he was crazy.) Though it was somewhat fun for him to watch the boring majority of humanity stumble and fall whenever he tried to teach them a lesson, it wasn’t ever enough.

Gabriel had longed for someone, anyone, even a human, he could play a game with. Now, suddenly, here she was. Someone clever, someone who knew what clever meant, someone who actually wanted to play a real game. Gabriel had seen it in her eyes the moment he’d given her the chance to ask him her question. She was bored too. This was exhilarating for her too.

As if all that wasn’t good enough, Gabriel couldn’t read her mind. This fact probably should have concerned him more than it did, but he couldn’t focus on a tiny detail like that. No, this was too good of a chance to pass up. Not even his nephew had been able to give him a decent challenge. Gabriel was too excited to focus on something so seemingly trivial. He was excited, he was high on the thrill of the chase. No one ever said you couldn’t fool an archangel, and Gabriel didn’t know it, but he had been fooled. He had been fooled by a tiny girl with the face of a child.

Another entity as powerful as he was would most likely consider it beneath them to play a game of wits with a child, to be challenged by a child. But not Gabriel. He had been waiting for a chance like this for all of his existence; age simply didn’t matter to him anymore. That wasn’t to say he wasn’t curious, however.

This was his element. This was his obsession. This was his chance. It was time to have some fun.

“Now all that’s out of the way, let’s ask some things about you. What’s your name?”

“Marty.”

“Nice name. How old are you, Marty?”

“Enough.” The girl smirked. She was good. But he was just a little better.

“How many years have you been alive?”

“Fourteen.” That was her answer. There was darkness in his eyes this time. Interesting.

“How many years have you existed?”

A look of fear crossed her face, like a deer caught in headlights. But the look vanished as soon as it came and was replaced with a confident smirk.

“Conservation.” She answered.

Gabriel cursed internally. The law of conservation of energy; energy is neither created nor destroyed. Of course, she would say something like that.

“Okay, miss-smarty-pants. How many years have you been aware of your existence?”

Marty swallowed and looked down at her hands in her lap.

“Nineteen.” Now they were getting somewhere.

“Riddle me this, Batman. How can you be fourteen and nineteen at the same time?”

She glared at her folded hands.

“Trapped.” The way she stressed the word told Gabriel that she was more than resentful of her condition.

“Trapped how? Elaborate,” He demanded.

“Skin,” She said, nearly growling.

“Elaborate,” He repeated, nodding.

“Cage,” Her voice quivered.

“Why?” He leaned forward now, waiting. This would be the crucial response. Marty looked up, there were ghost tears in her eyes.

“Neverland.”

Very interesting. Time for a new line of questions.

“Why did you come with the Winchesters?”

“Invited.”

“Which one invited you?”

She smiled a little.

“Jack.”

“Why did he ask you to come here?”

“Protection.”

“What led him to offer you protection?”

“Mendicant.”

Mendicant. Definition: One who begs. So, did she ask to come or was she invited? And if she was begging, that begs the question of why.

“What were you begging for?”

“Life.”

“Why were you begging for your life.”

Marty tilted her head.

“Guillotine.”

Her use of the word guillotine could be a metaphor, or it could mean something very literal. Gabriel had the suspicion that it meant a little of both.

“What did Jack offer to protect you from?”

She shrugged.

“Monster,” She said as if it was obvious.

“Yours or someone else’s?”

“Everyone’s,” Marty whispered.

There it was. That was it. That was the clue.

Gabriel laughed; he was winning.

“Tell me, Marty, how long ago was your family massacred?” He asked. Marty looked like she’d been stabbed in the gut and Gabriel felt a pang of guilt, but he brushed it off. It was nothing compared to his excitement.

“Five,” She replied after a moment.

“Five what?”

“Years,” Her voice cracked. Gabriel nodded.

“How have you spent those five years?”

“Alone.”

“If you’ve been on your own for so long, why accept help now?” He prodded.

“Tired.”

“What are you tired of?”

“Running.”

“That’s the practical reason, what’s the other reason?”

Marty pursed her lips.

“Name.”

“Of what?”

“Character.”

“Say it.”

“Peter Pan.” Two references to the same story in one conversation. Definitely not a coincidence. She was comparing herself to something, but what was it? What was he missing?

“Okay pumpkin, just a few more questions; then we’re done ‘cause I don’t have all day.”

“Nice.” She smiled.

"Why should I believe a word you've said to me?"

The girl grinned in a way that was meant to be friendly, but fell critically short.

"Psycho."

That response unnerved the five billion year-old archangel. What was this kid?

“What do you think of Jack?” He continued, he didn't miss a beat.

“Viridity,” She replied. Viridity; noun: Naïve innocence.

“What do you think of his parentage?”

“Irrelevant.” Gabriel had heard many words used to describe his family. Irrelevant was definitely not one of them.

“What do you want more than anything in the world?”

Marty’s answer was unexpected.

“Back.” Her voice wasn’t desperate or wistful; it was cold and hard.

“Describe yourself. Who are you, Marty?”

She had to think about this one. When she had her answer, the genius girl grinned. It wasn’t in a happy way.

“Domino.”

“Alright, one last question, then you’re free to go.” Gabriel leaned forward, his face a grim mask. “Do you have a crush on my nephew?”

Surprised by his question, Marty blinked but before long a smirk split across her cheeks and mischief gleamed in her eyes.

“Talent.” That was all she said. Gabriel knew that meant; ‘The answer may be yes, but I will say no until the day I die.’ The archangel reached a hand across the table; Marty grasped and shook it.

“Good game, kiddo. Mind telling me where Sam and Dean are now?”

“They’re on their way to New-York. They’ll be there in a few hours,” Marty said.

“Cool beans. Now go get some breakfast and I’ll see ya later.”

With a nod of his head, Gabriel was gone. The reason why he had originally come to the bunker was completely forgotten. Now he had only one thought on his mind.

He needed to find Sam and Dean.

He needed to warn them about the girl they were protecting.

When it came to individuals, there had never been something that Gabriel couldn’t figure out.

Never. Not one thing. Until now.

Gabriel had no idea what that child was.

That thought―that question mark unnerved him. That notion shook him down to his very core.

That blank space child, that missing piece little girl.

She was more terrifying to him than anything he had known in five billion years.

~You're just like me, you're out your mind

I know it's strange, we're both the crazy kind

You're tellin' me that I'm insane

Boy, don't pretend that you ain't just the same

Oh, she's sweet but a psycho

A little bit psycho

At night she screamin'

"I'm-ma-ma-ma out my mind"

Oh, she's sweet...

But a Psycho~

Lyrics from: Sweet But A Psycho by Ava Max

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sebthesnipe · 4 years

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How To Hold Your Dragon

February Prompts 2/26

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Prompt: Crest / Collect

Ship: Prinxiety and Logicality

Original story based on this wonderful post by @underdog-arts

Roman shifted in his sleep, curling protectively closer around the swaddled bundle in his arms. He had moved from the spot against the tree, where he had been dozing at some point during the night, careful not to jostle Virgil too much.

Patton chewed his bottom lip absently as he stared at the two, concern furrowing his brow. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he had messed this whole thing up with his overprotective nature. He shouldn’t have come on so strong when he and Logan had rushed to the men’s aid. He was just so worried at the time.

Roman gave a small shiver, tightening his hold around the raccoon, and drawing it closer against his chest for warmth. Patton gave a squeak at the sight. It was just so adorable! He shifted to dig into the pack next to him, producing a blanket before pushing to his feet.

It was obvious that the dragon meant to cover the two, protecting them from the cool night air but he hesitated. The memory of Roman recoiling from his touch flashed across the forefront of his mind, causing him pause. Did Roman recoil out of fear? Was it just the stress of the moment? Or perhaps, it was disgust. From what Logan had told the smaller man, Roman had the grand notion that dragons were barbaric monsters meant to be slain by knights and heroes. It was no wonder he drew back at Patton’s touch.

“Um… Logan?” the man’s small voice came as he clutched the blanket to his chest, beginning to shake slightly as he glanced down at the witch who was currently taking stock of their provisions.

“Yes, Patton?” Logan replied, too distracted to glance up at the moment.

Patton hesitated, feeling silly about his next request. “Roman looks cold,” he commented.

Logan took a moment to set aside the rations he had been counting before glancing over at the prince briefly. He took in the sight of Patton hovering by the fire, blanket clutched against his chest. For a moment, the image of a small child clinging to a favored stuffed animal for courage came to mind, despite how ridiculous the notion was when compared to the god-like power the man before him possessed. Still, the look on the dragon’s face was disconcerting.

“Perhaps you should offer him the blanket?” Logan offered in confusion. Patton nodded, gaze still on the sleeping prince a few feet away. He didn’t move.

“Patton?” Logan asked softly, studying the way he toyed nervously with the corner of the fabric and how his bottom lip was slightly swollen from the worry of his teeth. “Is everything alright?”

“I just…” the dragon began but paused, unsure of what to say. It was foolish, he knew, but he was scared. What if Roman never warmed up to him again? What if Patton never got to be apart of that bright smile that he always flashed when Patton made a horrible joke? What if he never got to feel one of the man’s overly flamboyant embraces? Roman gave the best hugs! “I just don’t think it would be a good idea if I did it,” he admitted finally turning his attention to the tall witch.

Logan’s confusion only grew at the admission, trying to piece together what could possibly make providing a blanket to someone in need of one a bad idea. Perhaps it was one of those odd social etiquette rulings that he never quite understood. Typically, right about now, Virgil would be chiming in with a sarcastic comment or sassy remark to provide him with some context on the matter. However, given his companion’s state of unconsciousness, it appeared he was on his own for now.

“Isn’t that why you retrieved the bedding to begin with?” Logan asked curiously. The question had Patton’s brows furrowing further, making it appear as if he were about to cry. “Or perhaps the blanket is not the problem!” Logan rushed. He did not handle others crying well. Comfort was most certainly not a strong suit of his.

“C-could…” Patton stuttered, voice cracking softly as he hugged the folded material against his chest. “Could you maybe…” he continued, giving the witch a pleading look as he trailed off.

“Could I take the blanket to him?” Logan clarified, earning another small dip of Patton’s head in affirmation. “Certainly.”

Tension drained from Patton’s shoulders as Logan moved to stand.

The witch offered an outstretched hand to collect the blanket. Patton paused, unsure for only a brief moment before handing it over, wrapping his now empty hands around himself for warmth.

Logan offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile before turning towards the sleeping prince. Patton’s gaze followed the shirtless pagan as he turned his back to the dragon. The wounds were still visible in the moon’s pale light, making discolored patches appeared darker than they had in daylight. The sight was just as disturbing as when Patton had spotted it through the witch’s glamour when they had first met.

Logan unfurled the blanket in one efficient movement before draping it over Roman’s sleeping form, making sure to cover Virgil as well. He knelt to check up on the fur covered beast wrapped in Roman’s cloak.

Logan hid his pain well, but Patton could see through the composed exterior. Each of Logan’s movements were no doubt agonizing. The fact that he managed to hide it so well was impressive. For a human, death would probably be preferable to the torture of a simple breath. So, why then was Logan so determined to survive? What drove him? That was the whole point of the venture wasn’t it; to discover a way for him and Virgil to live without the tie to their master?

Was it revenge? No, Logan didn’t seem the type to be driven by such a dark emotion. Perhaps it was out of spite? No, again that wasn’t very fitting of the man. He certainly was an enigma. There wasn’t much that Patton came across anymore that caused him such confusion. Logan, however, was a puzzle he was looking forward to solving.

The witch straightened once more, the moonlight brushing against the crest of his dark hair, catching on his mismatched eyes. He was very attractive to be sure. It had been quite a long time since Patton had seen anything that could compare. The fact that anyone would wound such a beautiful being in such a way was an atrocity.

“Are you alright, Patton?” Logan asked softly, stopping just short of the smaller individual.

“Hm?” Patton hummed, glancing up from where he had begun to stare off, losing himself in his thoughts. “Oh. Yes! I’m fine! I’m great!” the dragon rushed, perhaps a bit too cherrily.

Logan’s lips pursed into a thin frown at the answer, pausing to consider his response. “Patton, I understand that you are a magnificent creature that I couldn’t even begin to comprehend,” he replied softly, making the shape-shifter glance away with a flush, “but from what I have observed you have the same complex and intense emotions as we humans. Perhaps, even more so. Yet, it appears that you hide them with an overly pleasant exterior."

Patton's frown returned at the accusation, though he took no offense. The fact that Patton was so transparent was just a bit surprising to the man.

"I cannot pretend that I have proficient knowledge or experience with emotions, but I can assume that keeping those feeling bottled up cannot be healthy. It is okay to feel things that are not pleasant. Virgil once informed me, and forgive me for the terminology, ‘Feeling like…" Logan hesitated, uncomfortable with the idea of cursing in front of the smaller man. Despite the knowledge that Patton was an ancient being capable of phenomenal cosmic magic, he always seemed so innocent to the witch. "’S-shit’," he stuttered, gauging the dragon's reaction curiously. Patton offered a small upturn of his lips in amusement, spurring Logan to continue, "Feeling like shit can be good because it makes the good feelings better than they were before,’” that earned a small huff of laughter from the small man. “While the phrasing is a bit unpolished, I believe he had a point.”

Patton rubbed his upper arm absently as the man spoke. Logan was intelligent beyond his years, that much was clear. For someone that claimed to be ignorant of a lot of things, Logan understood Patton more than he had expected. The fact that the witch was not only brave enough to point out his disillusion, but was obviously trying to comfort him about it was endearing.

Logan took Patton’s silence as an indication of the witch’s overstep and tensed. “Of course, it is completely likely that I am mistaken. I cannot pretend to know-”

“Logan,” Patton chuckled, finally meeting his gaze with a soft smile, “It’s fine, kiddo. You’re not mistaken,” he reassured.

Logan relaxed slightly at the reassurance, offering his own smile in return. “Would you like to talk about it?”

“I dunno,” the dragon shrugged, ducking his head in embarrassment. “It’s kind of a lot and I don’t like icky feelings. I prefer the happy fun ones that make everyone smile,” he added, forcing a grin as he bounced on his heels for emphasis, “I just… don’t know if I can provide those right now,” he sighed.

“Well,” Logan offered, “perhaps, since it is just you and me at the moment, you can allow yourself to properly manage those ‘icky’ feelings?” he offered, with an arched brow.

Patton’s softed smile returned as he peered up at the taller man. “Yeah… I guess that wouldn’t be so bad.”

“Good,” Logan huffed mirroring the soft expression as he lifted his arms. “Perhaps, an embrace might be preferable?” he offered, unsure if this was the appropriate course of action.

However, the suggestion had Patton instantly beaming. Logan had never offered him a hug before! In fact, He had never seen the man offer anyone a hug before! Only Roman had ever allowed Patton to hug him!

The dragon preened, feet dancing as he bounced from one to another in his excitement, hands lifting to his mouth, digits tapping against the giant grin that split his face. A screech escaping him, high pitched enough that Logan was certain only dogs could hear.

If that wasn’t affirmation enough, the dragon proceeded to launch himself into the witch’s embrace, arms tucked in close against his chest, far too conscious of the man’s wounds to return the embrace himself.

Logan grunted at the impact, giving a low chuckle that rumbled through his chest as his limbs locked around the small form. Patton instantly melted, his own heat seeping into Logan’s cool skin pleasant as they stood next to the fire. Despite Patton’s immeasurable power, he somehow felt safe in the witch’s hold, as though even his own nightmares couldn’t touch him there.

Patton had been so inequivalently wrong; Logan definitely gave the best hugs (but Roman was a close second).

To be continued...

Taglist:

@hiddendreamer67 @nightashes @aequinoctiale @sumersnowlilly

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nyxwordsmithwrites · 5 years

Text

Chemically Imbalanced: Chapter 34: Retreat to Safety

a/n: So work finally slowed down enough for me to gather some actual energy to write an actual chapter and here she is. XD I hope you enjoy it!

Chapter 33 | Masterpost | Chapter 35

Also available on AO3!

Warnings: Fear, Crying, Trouble Breathing, Paranoia, Recovery from Relapse, Crisis Recovery, Relapse, Food Mention, Exhaustion, Swearing

The start of ride home was tense and quiet, save for Roman’s terrified squeaks and sobs, hiding in Virgil’s chest as the teen held Roman protectively close. For once, Roman didn’t even mind the tight hold. Sure, it was tight and close and he wasn’t really able to breathe with his nose so clogged and his face pressed tightly into Virgil’s chest but at least he was safe. At least he knew he was secure and safe and protected.

Remy’s voice was low from the front seat, “We’re headin’ straight home.” he glanced in the rearview mirror, unsurprised that Roman tried to curl even closer to Virgil, “We’ll figure out where to go from there.”

Virgil nodded as he eased Roman’s hair from the tie, pulling Roman up to rest his face in Virgil’s neck, an arm securely wrapped around his shoulders, the other dragging gentle fingers through his hair.

“Thanks, Rem.”

After that they were all quiet, even when Remy parked and helped Virgil get Roman out of the car, sweeping up the make-up gifts and following them to the front door. He didn’t miss the way his cousin’s head swivelled to find threats, his eyes dark as he tried to locate it.

Remy sighed softly as he closed the door behind him, glancing to the stairs as he spotted Virgil helping Roman up slowly. He moved to the dining room, setting the bag down and moving into the kitchen.

Patton was beating...some kind of dough in a bowl, his eyes dark and glasses foggy as he did, “Pat?” He jumped, dropping his whisk and staring up at Remy.

“Remy!” he squeaked, his hand pressed to his chest, “You startled me!”

Remy gave Patton an apologetic smile, “Sorry, UncleDad.” Patton beamed at the nickname, “You…”

Patton shook his head and gave Remy a warmer smile, “No, kiddo, I’m recovering from my relapse.” he answered warmly, “It took me a while, I know.”

Remy laughed softly, leaving the make-up on the counter and moving around to Patton, arms open, “I don’t care how long it takes.”

Patton gladly pulled Remy into a hug, giggling when he felt Remy’s breath in his hair and his glasses knocked a little askew. Patton squeezed Remy’s waist, “You alright?”

Remy shook his head, curling to hide his face in Patton’s neck, “No.” he answered quietly, knocking his shades off to the floor, clinging tighter to Patton, “I’m not…”

Patton rubbed his back in firm circles, “Thomas is upstairs, if you want to see him.” Patton offered gently, feeling Remy nod but make to no move to leave. He was silent about it, keeping the eldest ‘son’ close until he was truly ready to seek out his father.

“How do you do it?” Remy asked softly.

“Do what?”

“Handle the relapses?”

Patton sighed, “I don’t.” he whispered gently, “But I have a wonderful, loving, strong and caring support system.” he answered gently, “And I am able to give back through my work.” He felt Remy nod slowly, releasing him slowly and straightening, trying to wipe at his face.

“You know about…”

“I do.” he whispered, picking up Remy shades and sliding them on his face, “I think I know how to help him.” he offered, “But...how’s V doing?”

Remy shook his head with a sniffle, “Not so good.” he admitted quietly, “I...don’t think he realises he’s...slipping. And fast.”

Patton watched Remy hug himself and gently set his hands on Remy’s biceps. Remy turned his head to meet Patton’s eyes, “So are you.” he whispered, “And so is Logan. And that’s okay.” Patton gently reassured him, “None of you are perfect.” he gently kissed Remy’s forehead, “And Picani is a phone call away.”

Remy took a deep breath, sighing it out and nodding slowly, “Maybe I should have talked to him last time…”

Patton giggled, smearing a drop of icing of Remy’s nose. He earned an indignant squeak and giggle for that one, “There’s always this time. And the next time.” he offered, “It’s when you are ready.”

There was a moment of quiet as Remy searched Patton’s face, his eyes shielded by the shades before he took a deep breath and sighed it out, hugging Patton tighter than before.

“Thanks, UncleDad.” he whispered warmly, “I...would like to...if that’s okay?”

Patton smiled back, hugging Remy just as tightly, “Of course, kiddo.”

Meanwhile…

Roman felt Virgil lower him to the bed, “I’ve got you, baby.” he whispered softly, “You remember our deal?”

Roman’s fuzzy mind scrambled to figure out what Virgil meant, shaking his head slowly as he scrubbed at his face with soaked leather sleeves.

When he looked up, he expected...disappointment or hurt but Virgil just gave him a gentle, understanding smile.

“It’s okay if you’re tired, baby.” he whispered gently, “Just sit tight.” He felt Roman’s eyes on him as he wandered to the closet, pulling out the hoodie and offered it to Roman.

He saw the gears turning before they clicked, Roman’s eyes filling with tears as he took the hoodie in gentle hands and looked up at Virgil.

Virgil sat on the bed beside Roman, never breaking eye contact, “You want some help getting your jacket off?” he asked softly, brushing tears from Roman’s cheeks and he heard Roman hiccup on air, biting his lip as he nodded, “Okay, sweetie. Just hang in there.”

Gentle and slow, he slid his hands under the jacket, easing it off Roman’s shoulders and maintaining as much contact as he could. Roman stayed quiet, sniffling as Virgil helped him out of each sleeve and watched as Roman slipped on the soft hoodie and shrank into it.

Virgil smiled warmly, snickering softly when Roman pulled the hood over his head and a faint smile pulled onto Roman’s face from the sound.

He was preparing to ask Roman if he wanted to go back downstairs when he heard a soft knock on his door, looking up as Dad opened the door and peered in.

“Heya, kiddos.” he spoke softly and Virgil smiled as Roman leaned his head on Virgil’s shoulder, “I brought up some water and snacks.” Roman sniffled and wiped at his face as Patton moved into the room and set the tray beside Virgil’s bed.

“Thanks, Dad.” Virgil answered warmly.

Patton brushed Virgil’s hair back to kiss his forehead, “Anytime, kiddo.” he answered just as warmly. He stepped in front of Roman, “May I also interest you in a Dad kiss?”

Another faint smile pulled onto Roman’s face, followed by a small nod and Patton smiled wider, easing the hood up just a little to kiss his forehead.

“Dad…” Patton paused, “I...need to use the bathroom, would you mind staying with Roman for a bit?”

He turned back to the pair, “Of course I don’t mind.” he answered warmly, sitting on Roman’s other side and wrapping him in a sideways hug, “Take your time, V.”

Virgil moved quickly from the room and after a short while, Patton found he was humming softly and rocking Roman, the teens hands nervously snaking around Patton’s waist.

“Things will get better.” Patton murmured gently, feeling Roman stiffen a little, “I know it may not seem like it now, but it will.” he reassured, one hand moving to cradle Roman’s head, “I promise.”

After an extended moment of silence, in which Roman grew increasingly tense, he finally managed to force the words out of his mouth, “How do you know?” he whispered, voice broken and small.

Patton smiled into the hood, “Because I’ve lived this already.” he whispered, feeling Roman sag against Patton and whimper, “And if you’ll let me, I’d like to tell you about it. To see where I once was, where you are now...and where you can be too one day.”

Roman sniffled and nodded, snuggling closer to Patton, “B-but...what about Virge or...Lo? W-won’t they be mad if...if you t-tell me?”

Patton chuckled softly, nuzzling into the hood, “I know Lo wants you to know...so you can see his journey too.” he answered warmly, “He’s just...not very good at storytelling...which I think is bullshit.”

“Patton.” Roman whispered in horror.

He giggled, “Oh hush, you think V and Lo are the only ones allowed to swear?”

Roman sniffled and giggled quietly, snuggling closer to Patton and the father looked up and spotted Virgil in the doorway. He was smiling gently, his hand on the doorframe.

He gave nothing more than a nod, but Patton knew what that meant, letting Virgil head quietly down the stairs.

“Well, I have permission all around.” he answered softly, “Would you like to lay down as I tell you?” he asked gently.

Roman nodded, “Uh huh.”

Patton smiled gently, “Make yourself comfy then. It’s a long story.”

A-G @a-blog-just-for-sanders @alwaysmy-lilith @alyssadashrub @areyousirius-noheisdead @catnip002 @crownswriter123 @darastrix-thurirl @darkle-elkrad @dragonsight9 @drawyoursword @evillive369 @eye-of-terrific @fandomsofrandom @fivecroftersjams @fullmetallovr21

H-N @hamster-corn @hanramz-the-fander @helloisthisusernametaken @hissesssss @imasmallchild @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @justanotherpurplebutterfly @lowkeyvirgilobsessed @meginoi

O-S @peanut0303 @pearly-sims @princeyandanxiety @red-the-ruler @royallyanxious @skadinavien @sos-fandoms @swlotakulady34

T-Z @the-prince-and-the-emo @themysteriousballetanon @thestoryofme13 @thewritersapprentice @threepeppers @toujours-fidele @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 @winglessnymph @xxfluffypandazxx

Chemically Imbalanced Taglist:

A-C @a-whole-lot-of-screaming @ab-artist @accio-hufflepuff-power1 @adfandertime @akiraaria @alright-cupid @amazable01 @anangelridingintheimpala @and-such-language @anduplex @angered-turtle @annonymmm @anxietystatement @asalwayss @at-least-seven-pretty-potatoes @axyzel @baileystarsketches @bubblycricket @ccecode @chaoticcharm-stone-posts @considerablelogicality @cosmic-chu

D-F @damienswifeolicitydallysgirl @deathbyvenusftw @demonickittykat @didsomeonesayyoutube122 @emupoppyjay @entpscarleharrrr @everyfandomeverlove @falsett0 @fan-dumb-trash @fandomsailer @februaryfun-blog @fillyourteacup @fivecroftersjams @flemishbitch @flyingturtlecat @freepaperie081 @fuckyouyoulittlefuck-blog @fullmetallovr21 @funsizedgremlin @fightorflightbettertowrite G-I @generalfandomfabulousness @goddessatarisketch @hedgehoghumor @helloisthisusernametaken @icantbeme71097 @icecoldparadise @im-bad-at-life @insanityandimperfection @internallyexplodingrainbows @ireblogstuff-andineedalife @izzynuggets J-L @jade-dragon226-fan @jordan6803 @kaymischief25 @keys117 @kirsten-the-freak @livsig @llamalys @lockolocka @logicalpasta @loonylovely

M-O @madd-catter @madly-handsome @mantha-has-fallen @memepool1 @miathefangirlwriter @michealawithana @migraine-marathon @minamishipsit @missmad12 @monikastec @mpdgmustdie @nammies @notafeeling @of-swords-and-princes @otaku-marijane @otakugirl111300

P-R @panic-at-theeverywhere @pattongirl @peachie-keeen @penguins-in-turquoise-scarves @phangirlandkilljoy @phantomfander @pineapplesbutterscotch @pinkeasteregg @poisonedapples @poisonlyra @princeyssash @pump-the-breaks-princey @quietwords-loudthoughts @ravenclawunicorn1 @readeatfightlove13 @rejectedathena @romanssippycup

S-U @sander-fander-sides @sanders-outsider @sanderssides-things @sanderssideslove @sea-blue-child @shygirl4991 @sleepdeprived-artist @spoonfullofcrofters @starryfirefliesbloggo @sunnywithachanceofsunflowers @talhaddelpla @tatehoseok @that-one-invisible-chick @the-darkness-art @thecyanblue @thefamouszombiebouquet @thepusheenqueen @timeywimeygalaxy @tinkslittlebelle @tree4life25 @uh-r00d @unicornlogan

V-X @virgil-sanders6 @virgilcrofters @whoviannekogal @wotusayinm8 @wtf-is-a-side

Y-Z @zamoradraw @zoalis @your-username-is-unavailable

#thomas sanders #Sanders sides #prinxiety #logicality #virgil sanders #roman sanders #Remy Sanders #Patton Sanders #chemically imbalanced #fear tw #crying tw #trouble breathing tw #paranoia tw #recovery tw #relapse tw #crisis recovery tw #food mention tw #exhaustion tw #swearing tw

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llamascanbepurple · 5 years

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Tag Game

Rules: Answer the questions and tag 21 people you want to get to know better.

Tagged by: @haze256 (eyo what’s up my dude)

Nickname: Bro, Nadnadnad

Height: 5″3

Last movie I saw: Captain Marvel

Favourite Artists: Of Monsters and Men, Ye Banished Privateers, Parsonsfield, Allison Weiss, Jonsi, Panic!atthedisco.

Song stuck in my head: Deja vu from initial D

Do I get asks: rarely

Other blogs: ALRIGHTY BUCKLE UP KIDDOS BECAUSE I HAVE A LOT. Ok so there’s my art blog @irrelevantello , my watership down blog @fiver-is-my-son , my made in abyss blog @want-to-try-touching-my-hat , my adsom blog @pirate-knife-wife , my elder scrolls blog @nerevrevarine, and my tangled the series blog @emo-tea-alchemist

Following: 422 (dammit if I had done this yesterday it would have been 420)

Amount of sleep: 8 hours minimum. 8 - 12 on a good day.

Lucky number: 8

What I’m wearing: high waisted jeans, a grey tanktop, a black croptop with the zodiac symbols on it, and a blue and white striped button up.

Dream job: Musical theatre actress

Favorite food: schnitzel and mashed potatoes.

Dream trip: I C E L A N D

Play any instruments: I play ukulele and some piano (though I’m not very good it piano), and I used to play trumpet.

Languages: English, some French, a tad of German

Favorite song: This question is always here and I never have a specific answer. Imma just name a few. Float from the tinkerbell movie, cheshire kitten by SJ Tucker, right now by Parsonsfield.

Random fact: My bangs go over one of my eyes a lot when they get too long so now I’ve mastered seeing with only one eye.

Describe yourself as aesthetic things: A cookie that looks really nice but when you turn it over it’s burnt. That moment when you’re drinking really nice tea but spill some and just look at it and go “eh”. When you wake up and nothing feels real. The smell when snow is melting in early spring. Really old trees with lots of knots.

Alright alright alright. Time to tag some peeps. @the-gayest-dovah @tedsahtheterrible @blackrabbitofdeath @wanderer-of-open-skies @cosmic-quark @skydog64. Im not tagging 21 people. Aint got time for that. If you see this though, feel free to do it.

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the-restisconfetti · 6 years

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tagged by @keiraknighted

a — age: 20

b — birthplace: vilnius, lithuania

c — current time: 15:31 / 3:31 pm

d — drink you last had: coffee

e — easiest person to talk to: my bestfriend

f — favorite songs: mind over matter by young the giant; cosmic love by florence and the machine; landslide by fleetwood mack

g — grossest memory: one evening my brother went to pick some snails, right before the sunset he ended up with a pretty big box of them. then he decided to just leave that box (open) outside our house’s front door, so in the morning when i got ready to go to school (i was 10 or 11) i went through the door and got really scared because the snails escaped and crawled up all over the wall and the door. and see, it might not sound like a gross thing, but believe me, i have this weird fear of snails, and they just kinda gross me out, sooo it was super scary and gross for me

h — horror yes or horror no: yeah if it has interesting plot

i — in love: my dog, music, books (and fiction characters)

j — jealous of people: hmmm, most of the time no, but there are some rare occasions, mostly if my ‘friend’ goes to do stuff with my other ‘friends’ without me, so i get jelous (and kinda angry). but i don’t remember a time when i was jelous of somebody’s fame or belongings

l — love at first sight or should i walk by again: never experienced any kind of romantic love, so maybe walk again

m — middle name: simona

n — number of siblings: one and 2 step siblings (not related with blood, but my mom has this boyfriend and he has 2 children, and we spend all holidays and sometimes weekends together, and my mom and brother live with them, so i kinda count those kiddos as my siblings now)

o — one wish: to find a cheap room to rent in london and a decent part time job (im moving there to study)

p — person you last called: my brother probably

q — questions you’re always asked: “did you pass your driving test?’’ ( i get this question for a past fucking two months :))) )

s — song you last sang: aš nieko nežinau - kamanių šešėlis (some lithuanian song lolol, it’s been stuck in my head for a whole day)

t — time you woke up: 10-11-ish

u — underwear color: blue with white dots

v — vacation destination: italy or spain

w — worst habit: self-doubting

x — x-rays: i had an x-ray for my broken ankle

y — your favorite food: lasagna

z — zodiac sign: aquarius

tagging: @bellblakesfreckles; @golden-bellarke; @aguusmiles; @halfbloodduchess; @julibernardo; @gefuehlswelle; @infiniteforaminute; @billydinahs; @quintincoldwater

#tag games #about me #that was fun

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yaspup9000 · 6 years

Text

Katamari Damacy: chapter 27, Easy pickings

((When Prince, Domino, and All of the cousins was finished with their lunch. Prince and Domino goes off Playing with their Silly shenanigans and making more snowmen. But then as The the day Gets shorter by the minute, it was Time to go home.))

((Prince walks Domino Back home, it was a calm and chilly night. It was Snowing again and The stars are come in up.))

((As the Two Sees snowflakes coming down and all of the cosmic Children runs back home to their respected families.))

((Domino looks at Prince but with a worried face))

Domino: Kiddo?

Prince: yes Domino?

Domino: As a future ruler of all the cosmos, Do you ever have to do any other real Royalty tasks then rolling some ol, Sticky ball?

((Prince starts thinking about all the some royal tasks that has nothing to do with the katamari.))

Prince: Hmm.. Nope not that I know of. Why did You ask?

Domino: Well I heard that Your old Man is Giving you some more Tasks and Harder challenges.

Prince: And.. Where did you heard that?

Domino: From the Mr. And the Mrs’s of course.

Prince: Well.. maybe it’s about learning how to fight and stuff..

Domino: Do you think you’ll have enough time for your cuz’s, Pals, and little ol, Me?

Prince: Of course I have Time for everyone. Especially You, the Hoshino kids and my Cousins!

((Domino grins but then looks a the sky))

Domino: Kiddo, You have a Heart of gold.. I mean I’ve never in my life met someone who’s so.. nice to me..

((Prince and Domino stops at The mansion.))

Domino: *puts a Brave face* …Kiddo I think.. someday you’ll make a swell King.

((As Domino hugs Prince goodbye and Gets in the Mansion, she Give Prince a Wink and a Wave goodbye. Prince smiles at Domino and then heads back to the Castle.))

((Meanwhile Back at the Castle))

((The King of all cosmos sits in his Royal chair and starts thinking about the Idea of Having his heir Do some more hard work. The same hard work he had to do since he was a child.))

((The Queen comes in to Check on her husband and to tell him that Dinner’s at the table.))

Queen of all cosmos: Hon! Dinner’s ready on the Table~

King of all cosmos: Hm? Oh yes, Thank you Dear..

((Queen of all cosmos looks concerned about her husband))

Queen of all cosmos: My love, is there something wrong?

King of all cosmos: Hm, why Yes We are… it’s just.. hmm..

Queen of all cosmos: Do you want to talk about?

((The King gives out a big sigh))

King of all cosmos: Well.. it’s about Prince.. and We think now is the Time We give him Harder Tasks and challenging ones.

Queen of all cosmos: You’re still Fixed on that? I mean.. I don’t think He’s Ready for that Type of doing..

King of all cosmos: He’s six years old. When We were his age, We had Hard And challenging Tasks too. We had to study, and learn to fight, and Play the Piano, and um.. Do Ballet!

Queen of all cosmos: *giggles a bit*

King of all cosmos: Hey what’s so funny, We have you know that Ballet is an important form of Fighting!

Queen of all cosmos: Oh.. sorry Dear… it’s just The thought of you in a ballerina dress Cracks me up…

King of all cosmos: Hm.. Well Guess you’re right. But The Prince will be fine. I think now’s the time for a challenge.

Queen of all cosmos: Oh alright.. but You better Not Hurt him Or So help me-

King of all cosmos: Don’t worry dear, We won’t hurt him.. we promise.

Queen of all cosmos: well come along Dear, We don’t want our food to be cold, and The childern are waiting oh so patiently.

((Cuts to the dining room))

((Everyone is waiting for the King and Queen of all cosmos to the table.))

((Can-can Starts to sneeze but this time He Didn’t Burst into flames.))

((Everyone was shocked))

Opeo: Hey! Can-can Didn’t Burst into flames this time!

((Everyone was cheering for Can-can But then when Fujio Sneeze he burst into flames and then it burns his mustache off.))

Ace: Hah! I KNEW IT! I KNEW IT’S A FAKE!!!!

Well guys hope you enjoy it or something anyhow there’s more chapters coming up so stay tuned for more as the Journey continues!

#katamari damacy #katamari stories #stories

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faces-in-unexpected-places · 5 years

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Do You Have the Time? Episode 013: Andre Ramone

Warning: This episode contains strong language that may be shocking or offensive to some readers.

[3rd Moon of Aestas, 13XX, 19:59]

You amble through the ethereal grove of Terrafron. The golden sunlight shimmers between the wavering leaves and branches in the peaceful evening of mid-Aestas. The grove was always lovely this time of year. You carry your lute and pluck the notes of a C major scale, as you have retired your sword for the day. You march with pride, knowing that the village you had just left was free of the nefarious troglodytaria that have been wreaking havoc in the Land of Ignis and Fumus for over a century. Bonavento, your long-time ally and friend, will meet you in the centre of the grove to escort you to the Archduke of Terrafron. You currently work under the Archduke as a mercenary for hire. The grove becomes gradually thicker, the grass taller and darker, and the air cooler as you head further into the forest.

“Aye!” a voice called from the top branch of a hawthorn tree. Bonavento fiercely aimed an arrow straight at you from his bow. “I hereby claim you a, uh, a traitor of the Archduke, and will thus have you—AH FUCK—”

The branch snapped beneath him and he tumbled from one limb to the next. His head hit the first branch of the fall, then his abdomen on the second. His funny bone, third, and groin last, before plummeting to the knobby ground that was disrupted by enormous tree roots. Bonavento groaned and slowly dragged himself up to his knees, holding his head.

“Bitch!” he cried, “That fuckin’ hurt. The Archduke doesn’t pay me enough for this bullshit, you know that? He’s—he’s not even paying me for this, I’m—I’m just, you know, framing you, as the enemy of the kingdom, so I can keep, you know, I don’t know. Doing whatever it is Celtic fuckin’ squire-ass traitor’s of the kingdom do? Embezzle I guess? Did they have that back then? And by then, I mean now? Oh, Jesus, I think I pulled something. Oh-HO,” Bonavento bent over backwards to stretch his back, “Fuck meeeeEEEE! AHHH. DID YOU HEAR THAT CRACK. Ugh, okay… phew… alright, enough dickin’ around, yeah, big reveal, long-time friend, actually huge traitor-douche, start the boss-fight already let’s goooOOOOO!”

*New Player has Joined Game*

[April 18th, 2018, 13:03]

“Madison, would you cut it out, already,” Jeremy called from the other side of the lab. Jeremy stood at the lab bench in the back of the room that almost spanned from one wall to the other. He was gathering various mechanical parts to construct one of the functional parts of their machine.

Jeremy, Leslie and Leopold had all agreed on a schematic that illustrated how the cosmic strings would be formed, and he began his work on a piston. Essentially, the one end of the cosmic string would stick to the piston; then the piston would quickly spin and connect the other end of the string to the first to form a loop. Afterwards, the loop would be pushed upward so that it would rise into the air; a test-object would sit on a platform above the loop and in the middle of its trajectory. Thus, the test-object would experience the space-time distortions of the loop as it passes around the test-object.

It was a difficult concept for Jeremy to concentrate on with the incessant cursing coming from Madison’s game.

“I just got to a cool part, though!” she complained and set her controller down on the lab meeting table. Leslie stiffly sat at the meeting table near Madison, trying not to get involved. She quietly typed the methods section of their scientific paper; they had finished their introduction the previous week.

“I don’t care what part you’re at,” Jeremy snapped, “The screen that animate’s IO’s facial expressions isn’t meant to play those annoying, never-ending, online games.”

“Oh, I guess you’re right,” Leslie interjected, “IO’s face and personality mostly comes from pixels on that screen! I’m not sure if I ever entirely… registered that in my head.” She tried to direct attention away from the conflict.

Madison spoke back to Jeremy immediately, completely ignoring her attempt at restoring peace.

“That doesn’t make any sense, dude! I saw you play games on IO’s face all the time, when we were kids. Your games are still on here, I can see them right now!” she cried out.

“Kids?” Leslie asked.

Jeremy stepped away from his lab bench and strode over to Madison and IO, becoming increasingly irritated. Leopold glanced up at the commotion and removed his earbuds. He was sculpting a crude prototype part of the machine that would spin heat into the strings. He was at the same lab bench as Jeremy, but on the other side of the room. Jeremy leaving the bench in a hurry caught his attention from the corner of his eye.

“That’s because when I played games, I actually played simple ones with IO. I never made him run those monster-sized games that take a ton of CPU and just make him sit there and watch me the whole time. He’s not your personal play-thing,” he hissed.

Madison furrowed her brow and leaned back in surprise.

“Him?” she enunciated, “What do you mean ‘him?’ It’s a robot!”

“What’s the problem over there, kids?” Leopold called, unaware of the tension.

Jeremy stifled in shock at her response. To avoid embarrassment, he quickly unplugged her controller. The game powered down, and IO’s simple, pixelated circle eyes and macaroni shaped mouth reappeared on the screen. IO seemed relieved to have quit the program.

“Hey man, what the hell!” Madison blurted out, “I didn’t even get to save my progress!”

“So, build your own robot,” he said coldly, “Come on, IO. We have errands to run.”

Jeremy stormed out of the lab and turned down the hallway in the direction of the lobby. Madison looked between the two remaining lab members with an opened jaw and a look of disgust on her face. Leslie was visibly distraught, and Leopold sauntered to their table carefully.

“What a jerk!” she yelled.

“Okay, okay, everyone, let’s try to take a breath,” Leslie suggested, “We’ve been working really hard on this project lately; I’m sure he’s just stressed out and didn’t mean it, Madison. I’m stressed out, too, you know?”

“Yeah, well, that was one way to handle it,” she scoffed.

“Maybe since you don’t have that game to play anymore, you can focus more on your own work like us? Maybe study for your final exams. They’re just a few weeks from now, right?” Leslie offered.

Madison groaned.

“Dude, I was playing that game to specifically avoid all that stuff. All you ever want to do is work.”

“Hey kiddo,” Leopold said assertively. She spun around to face him. “How about you cool off with me for a bit? You can help us figure out how large of a chemical reaction we’re going to start with, when we’re testing our machine. We can test the reaction and watch it light up.”

Madison let out an audible sigh.

“Guess I’ve got nothin’ else to do now, anyway. Alright, Leo, let’s do it. Gimme your best explosives or whatever,” she said and rolled her eyes as she dragged herself in the direction of his work bench.

Leslie exhaled her own stress out as she sat alone at her meeting table. Despite her efforts to bring everyone together, she somehow felt as if nothing would be enough. Perhaps she wasn’t as good of a friend or coworker as she thought.

[April 18th, 2018, 13:20]

Jeremy treaded through the lobby without batting an eye at Martha and B-lined for the robotics lab. He had been getting fed up with working on the piston, anyway; he didn’t have all the parts to keep it functional. The robotics lab often had pieces and parts to spare. Sophia wasn’t exactly a friend of his or anyone else’s in the Looney Lab, but she seemed to treat them fairly, in an economical sense. In a personal sense, she obviously had her opinions. But a few spare parts shouldn’t stir up that much trouble. As Jeremy approached the lab, he became confused at the sound of music. It sounded familiar. He peered into the robotics lab. It was a chaotic mess like it always was. Papers all over the tables, machines in mid-function, and a plethora of metallic limbs lying around. They were separated from their parent machines, and added to the clutter of the lab.

Sounds of loud, distorted, punk-rock guitars strumming to rapidly beating drums filled the room. The only person inside was Andre. He was the one blaring music. He wore tight, black jeans, a striped burgundy and grey shirt with a solid, long-sleeved, black shirt underneath. Andre appeared to be preoccupied on a computer… playing that horrible game of Madison’s.

Jeremy sighed.

“Excuse me,” he projected his voice over the music. Andre turned to face him, smiled and gave a nod of acknowledgement.

“‘Sup, man!” he yelled over the music.

“Can you turn it down!?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah!” Andre agreed and lowered the music, “Sorry, sorry. Was playin’ this sweet game, and joined someone’s game nearby, but then they left. Guess they don’t want anyone else to know that they’re goofin’ off at work,” he laughed, “Whatcha need?” he asked, nonchalantly.

“I need a crankshaft for this piston that I’m putting together,” Jeremy replied, ignoring the rest of Andre’s commentary.

“Ahhhh, yeah, ya kinda need the piston to go up and down huh?” he joked, “So you’re really gettin’ that machine together? That’s cool, lemme see what I can find.”

Andre wandered all the way to the back of the lab, rifling through numerous cardboard boxes, kicking some out of the way. Jeremy rocked back and forth on his heels while he waited, hoping it would be over soon.

“Aha!” Andre yelled, “Here ya go!” he plopped himself in a desk chair on wheels and flung himself through an aisle in the lab, running over papers and bolts, until he reached Jeremy. Andre held a cardboard box full of crankshafts of various sizes in his lap.

“Any of these good for ya?” he asked.

Jeremy glanced through them, and, to his surprise, he did find one that would fit his piston. Eventually, he would need a piston with a circumference larger than most people, so that the cosmic loops were big enough to circle the person in the machine. For the time being, a small piston would do, because the test-objects were considerably smaller. Andre smirked and reached out to IO, who had been standing behind Jeremy’s leg.

“Hey there, little man, good to see ya again! Gimme some skin?” he posed, holding his hand out and palm up, “Or, I guess, gimme some metal?”

IO emoted a smile on its screen and gave Andre a high-five, after warming up to the environment again. Jeremy glimpsed between them, as his attention was torn away from the crankshaft.

“You two are… acquainted?” he asked.

“Oh yeah,” Andre said, “He was here for a long enough time for us to share a moment or two. He liked my other boys, too. Too bad I gotta perform a bit more maintenance on them right now, otherwise they’d be up and about.”

IO sounded a high-pitched, twinkle-like beep for Andre. He wore a goofy grin and pointed to IO.

“That mean he likes me?”

“Uh, yes, actually,” Jeremy responded, feeling entirely caught off-guard again. He felt his aggravation fading. “You call IO and your robots ‘he’, too?”

“Yeah! That’s just the way I see ‘em, though. But they don’t mind.”

“I always called IO an ‘it’ because he’s a robot.”

“You just called him a ‘he,’” Andre corrected.

“Oh…” Jeremy hesitated, “I guess I did. I haven’t been sure what to use, recently.”

“Just whatever feels right, man,” he said, “To you, or to IO, I should say.”

Jeremy hummed and kneeled down to IO.

“What do you think, IO? Do you like ‘it’ or ‘him’ more?” he asked.

IO flashed grey lights from the bulbs on its head. Jeremy smiled, having been surprised for the third time within the hour.

“You don’t care?” he asked.

IO confirmed.

“Huh… I didn’t know that. Well… maybe I’ll go back and forth then, if that’s okay.”

IO flashed blue lights, expressing contentment. Jeremy stood back up.

“Well… thanks. Maybe, uh, well, I’d like to meet your… robots—machines—when they’re operational again.”

“Oh, sure, I’d be happy to introduce you,” he waved away the request.

“…So I can just take whichever crankshaft I want?” Jeremy asked.

“Yeah, go for it, ya don’t see me usin’ them,” he chuckled, “Just keep this deal on the DL. Don’t want you-know-who findin’ out.”

Jeremy frowned and pointed to a crankshaft. Andre gestured for him to pick it up. He squinted at Andre and turned his nose up at him, suspiciously.

“You’re not like Sophia, are you,” he wondered.

“Nah,” Andre snorted, “Although, I will need something in return before you take the crank with ya.”

Jeremy sighed.

“There’s always a price,” he mumbled.

“I just need you to take this other box of junk to Martha in the lobby,” Andre said, “Sophia spring-cleaned her office the other day and put all the stuff she didn’t want in the box. Told me to take whatever I wanted and give the rest to reception.”

“Oh. That’s it?” Jeremy replied.

“Yyyyyup. That’s all. I just don’t wanna walk over there. So just do that, come right back, get your crank, and you’re good to go.”

“Huh,” Jeremy paused, “Okay. Can I take anything from that box, if I find something I like?”

“Bit of a glutton there, huh, Jeremy Brilliant?” he jested, “Sure, sure, makes no difference to me. Just, ya know, not to state the obvious, but don’t tell Sophia about this either. Ya know?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

Andre spun in his chair, reached underneath a nearby desk and traded the crankshaft box for a flimsy box that was half filled with office supplies. Paper clips, pencils, erasers, a stapler, stacks of unopened paper, a pair of scissors, and various other supplies. Jeremy left Andre, IO, and his crankshaft in the lab. On his way to Martha’s desk, he shuffled the box around in his arms. He kept glancing through the contents and stole a permanent marker or two. There was a pack of sticky index tabs and a pack of orange Post-It notes. He set the box down on the reception desk. Martha glanced at him and smiled.

“Hey there, darling, how’s the research going? You sure were walking with a purpose earlier!”

“It’s okay,” he said, still looking into the box. “We’ve made progress. I just hope we’ll make enough of it to be worthwhile. I brought you this box from the robotics lab,” he said, distractedly. Jeremy felt as if something was happening. Some sort of vague… shift.

“Well, thank you, sweetheart! You’re not switching labs, are you?”

He couldn’t take his eyes off the sticky notes. He reached in, picked them up and held them up in the air to examine them.

“No,” he responded, simply.

Martha frowned and her eyes bounced left and right at the peculiar behaviour.

“Do you… use sticky notes a lot?”

“Not really.”

“Do… you want to take those ones?”

Jeremy shook himself out of a dazed trance. He didn’t want to let the pack go.

“Uh. Would you mind?” he asked.

“No, ‘course not,” she snorted, “You seem like you’d get more use out of them, anyway!”

“Huh… yeah. Thanks.”

“…You’re welcome, oddball!” she chuckled, uncomfortably.

The pack of Post-It notes felt indistinctly familiar. He couldn’t explain it. He rarely used sticky notes, and wasn’t particularly fond of the colour orange. Was it déjà vu? Martha tried once again to shake him back to reality.

“So, what were you doing in the robotics lab?” she asked.

It worked. Jeremy put the pack of sticky notes in his back pocket and refocussed himself onto her.

“Uh, right. I was, uh, looking for something to go with this piston that I’m reassembling in the lab. I’m trying to modify it so it will push up and down like it’s supposed to, but also spin at a high velocity,” he explained, sheepishly.

“Oh, so you’re making a new kind of tool?” she probed.

“Sort of. Mostly just making a few small changes.”

“Well, I’ll have to keep in touch for updates! You go on and get back to work, now. I wouldn’t want to keep you!”

“Thanks. See you around.”

Jeremy walked back into the robotics lab to find Andre showing IO the game that he was playing when they first walked in. Andre acknowledged him as he wandered up next to IO.

“You can take the crankshaft whenever you want, man. Thanks again for the favour!” Andre said.

Jeremy dug through the box again and retrieved the correct size. Seeing that Andre and IO were both absorbed in the game, he felt compelled to wait. He watched the game for a moment, and then his curiosity got the best of him.

“Andre,” he said.

“Yeah?”

“I want to ask you something.”

“I’m all ears.”

He seemed pretty agreeable for not even knowing what the question was.

“What do you think of Sophia?”

Andre paused the game. His natural half-smile, and carefree spirit seemed to subside. He took a deep breath, and spun his chair ninety degrees to face Jeremy. IO backed up so it wasn’t between them.

“Why are you asking me?” he cross-examined.

“Does it matter?”

“Is this for your own knowledge, or somebody else’s?” Andre pressed.

“It’s my own curiosity. I know there is something going on with her and Leopold. I don’t know what it is, and it isn’t necessarily my business. But it’s clear that she has a problem with him. Or a need to get under his skin. It’s almost vindictive. But you are nothing like that, from the looks of it. And yet, you work here. Why?” Jeremy laid his cards on the table.

Andre chuckled to himself.

“Well, I’m glad that I look non-vindictive. To tell you the truth, Jeremy, I don’t know much about it either. All I could really do for you is speculate. From my perspective, seems like Leopold and his lab are bad for business. Makes the university look foolish, and undermines everyone else’s work by association. Since Sophia is in a position where she is managing everyone’s work, maybe she holds a grudge to Dr. Looney for making her job unnecessarily hard?”

“Seems corrupted. Why hasn’t The Board of Research stepped in? Or human resources? Isn’t that technically a hostile work environment?”

“Yeah, probably. But the higher-ups hired Sophia themselves. Supposedly she’s buddy-buddy with someone up there. And honestly, she’s been a great manager for the rest of the labs. Not to mention that most other labs probably feel frustrated just like her because they feel that they are missing opportunities for funding because Dr. Looney works here. He’s been workin’ on that time travel stuff for a long time, and his last presentation to The Board really solidified the reputation he has now. At least that’s what I’ve heard from the people that still work here from back then,” Andre elaborated.

“And so… why do you work under her?” Jeremy reminded him of the original question.

Andre sighed.

“Listen, I’m not going to defend Sophia’s actions. But I don’t want to throw her under the bus, either. We met when we were both enrolled at the university, actually. We were both part of the Fellowship of Minorities in STEM. It was my first year, her last year, and she showed me around. Introduced me to faculty and showed me the ropes. Later, I came to work here with her, and when I got my degree last year, I was hired to be a full-time employee. And, well, I’m sure you know what happened after. She got promoted and now… I guess we’re lookin’ for a new Principal Investigator? One of the higher-ups used to be the PI, and it’s just kind of been handed down. Maybe since he’s still around, they’re trying to hold off on hiring someone else,” he snickered, “Maybe I can work an angle and get a raise.”

“So she’s done good things for you,” Jeremy summarized.

“Pretty much, yeah. I just feel like I owe her something. Some grace. I had no idea what I was going to do with my life… and she really helped me figure it out. I was the first in my family to even go to college. I wasn’t even sure it would work out, let alone graduate? Work in a laboratory? I mean, I’m workin’ on robotic prosthetics! How fuckin’ cool is that?!”

Andre’s eyes widened and he covered his mouth.

“Oh, oh, sorry,” he quickly interrupted himself, “That was unprofessional.”

Jeremy shrugged.

“I don’t care. I’m used to it.”

Andre relaxed after seeing how little Jeremy was phased, though he thought it peculiar. He tried to steer the conversation away from his mistake.

“Long story short,” he said, “she helped me make my dream of being a first generation college graduate a reality. And I’ve made it farther in life than I ever thought I could. So… that’s why I work here.”

“…Can I ask you one more question?” Jeremy said.

Andre laughed and leaned back in his chair with a sigh.

“What, you don’t want to wait until my life story comes out on DVD?”

Jeremy ignored the joke.

“Why did you answer all my questions? You could have just ignored me or refused. Why let someone you hardly know ask you so many things?”

Andre let out a humorous breath.

“What can I say, I’m an open book, man. I’m cool with hangin’ out with just about anybody. But ya have to tell people about yourself if ya want ‘em to stick around, ya know?”

“You do?”

Andre snorted.

“Uh, yeah! If people go years without knowing anything about you, you’re pretty much just a stranger. At best an acquaintance. So I tell people about me, especially if they ask! Ya never know who’s gonna like what they hear, and keep comin’ back.”

Jeremy furrowed his brow, nodding his head at the information. He hummed and cleared his throat.

“Uh, thanks… Andre,” he croaked, “I appreciate your honesty.”

“S’what it’s all about, man. Now get outta here, go do your fancy time stuff. I’ll see ya next time ya need a crankshaft!” he joked.

“O—Okay. Goodbye,” Jeremy said abruptly, and cued IO to follow him.

The two of them headed out into the hall and began walking back to the Looney Lab with the crankshaft. Jeremy had not expected… any of that to happen. The day seemingly never ceased to shock him. Still, for a reason unbeknownst to him, he felt a bit happier. Perhaps the time away from Madison did it. Although, Andre was quite bizarre. He would have never guessed he’d be so talkative. At least not to Jeremy. IO beeped to get his attention. Jeremy glimpsed down to see IO displaying a silly smile on its screen, looking up at him. He snorted.

“What’s that look for?”

IO blinked playful yellow and pink lights at him like a carnival ride.

“Oh hush,” he nervously laughed, “I was just curious. I only went there for the crankshaft, that’s it.”

The lights shifted to teal and orange.

“You can think what you want,” he sputtered, “But the only thing I got out of that was the crankshaft. Come on, we’ve still got lots of research to do.”

IO let out a high-pitched hum that sunk to a low one that resembled a youthful, disappointed “Okaaaay…”

As Jeremy advanced toward the doors of the Looney Lab, his raw feelings of relief began to fade. He remembered the unsolved issues with Madison, the quickly approaching deadlines for their research, and the mountain of work that was waiting for him. His body felt heavier and worn. The events of the day had already jerked him around through all kinds of feelings. He resorted to his most comfortable, neutral disposition once again.

#do you have the time?#episode 013 #well look what the cat dragged in #another story arc in do you have the time?#the other parts of this arc should be posted in the following weeks #yes andre is a punk and yes his last name is in reference to the ramones #the good news is that the story is really moving now #the bad news is that... well #I'm moving next week and starting grad school in less than a month so #i may not get to work on this as much anymore #of course i will never give this story up!#i have every intention to finish it #but you know even as an undergrad i had a hard time writing this stuff during the semester #but i've got plans for it #ohhh do i have plans heh #also that first part of madison's game was basically one big meme lmao #if she was going to play a game i thought 'might as well describe it'#to be completely transparent though i would really like to write a story in that manner one day #medieval with a lot of made up worlds and lands probably magic too #i think it would be a lot of fun #big tone shift from do you have the time? lmao

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