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jmrothwell · 4 months

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Good as it Gets

(The Reggie PoV tie in to A Matter of Time. Sharing what I have drafted so far, as I debate if/how this will continue)

Well, maybe I'm a mess

And maybe I'm depressed

And maybe I'll just find out who I am, and I won't like who it is

(Good as it Gets, Little Hurt)

The clearest earliest memory Reggie has was of his parents yelling at his grandparents. He knew there were earlier fights, they just weren’t as memorable. A monotonous daily occurrence that blended together to the point where it became a fact.

Parents fought. They hid their fighting as best as they could around others but no matter what, they fought.

It wasn’t until that fight with his grandparents that he’d even thought to question that fact. And only because of the one thing he’d heard his Pop bellow. Not a full blown yell but the first and only time Reggie’d ever heard him raise his voice like that.

“This environment isn’t good for him and if you two don’t get your act together, so help me, I’ll do everything in my power to… “

He’s not sure the exact words his Mother had shouted after that. Something about not being his parents, not being the ones to make that call about what is right for him.

* * * * * * *

Reggie sat waiting for Mr. Deckard to get in for the day. Personally he didn’t get along all that well with the guidance counselor. None of his friends did, really. The man had a set idea in his head of the proper path any upstanding youth should take in life, and pursuing a career as rock musicians did not fit in the mold.

Unfortunately, Reggie was in the wretched position of needing Mr. Deckard's help. So he sat waiting in the uncomfortable chairs they used for the front office, fingers drumming on his thighs.

Then they walked in, drowning in a plum colored flannel and a pair of loose fitting jeans ripped around the knees. He tried to not stare at the giant sun decorating the thigh of their pants leg, though he wondered where they even found pants like that. Maybe they made them themself, that’d be cool.

Forcing his eyes up he was greeted by the bill of a cap that matched the color of their flannel, their face effectively blocked from view since they were looking down. Though they couldn’t stay hidden long once Ms. Kowalski told them ‘hat’s weren’t to be worn in school.’

With a huff they removed their hat, releasing a cascade of dark curls that fell just past their shoulders. Their eyes were still downcast, and they were clearly pouting. All the same they were really freaking adorable.

Were they new? He doesn't recall seeing them around before. Which didn’t really mean anything in a school as crowded as theirs. However he’s certain he would have noticed them before.

“Mr. Peters?” Mr. Deckard’s gruff voice, pulled Reggie’s attention from the mysterious, possibly new, student. The graying man with his trimmed gray beard gestured for Reggie to enter his office. “What brings you to see me today?”

“I was hoping to get an application for early graduation.” Reggie said as amicably as he could, taking a seat only when Mr. Deckard gestured for him to do so.

“Why would you need that?”

The million dollar question. He couldn’t exactly tell Mr. Deckard it’s because things at home were getting worse. The man had previously brushed off Reggie’s concerns regarding his parents' drinking and internet gambling fueled fights, or rather how said drinking and gambling had impacted Reggie’s financial and living situations.

Hell, he hadn't really even told the guys just how bad things at home had gotten. They knew about the general fighting, the ‘we have company over and we’re trying to behave’ fights. Just that was enough to change how the guys acted around him, subtle enough that either they didn’t notice or hoped he wouldn’t. Either way he didn’t need them coddling him like that. Which is part of why the guys also didn’t know about this new idea to try and be able to move out all the sooner since he didn't currently fit the qualifications for emancipation.

It didn’t matter if he was able to come up with a good enough reason, Mr. Deckard pressed on without an answer.

“Unfortunately, you do not meet requirements for early graduation.”

“But I’ve completed all the required courses.”

“Yes you have Mr. Peters.” Mr. Deckard said as he reviewed his computer, scowling in disappointment. “However, you do not meet the GPA requirement.”

“I have a passing GPA.” Reggie’s frustration was tinting his voice now.

“A passing GPA isn’t enough to allow an early graduation I’m afraid.” Mr. Deckard said, sounding anything but sympathetic. “Mr. Peters you’re currently looking at a 3.1 when early graduation requires a GPA of at least 3.5.”

“That’s bull shit.” Reggie snapped. “There’s no way you're telling me Kurt Anderson has a GPA that high.”

“Language, Mr. Peters.” Mr. Deckard raised his voice slightly and Reggie shut the hell up. Probably done speaking for the rest of this interaction whether he liked it or not. Internally hating how much raised voices bothered him.

“Kurt Anderson, is an upstanding student, who not only exceeded the GPA requirement but was accepted early into ASU with a scholarship.”

Yeah, a fucking golf scholarship. Reggie’s jaw worked slightly in lieu of muttering under his breath, curious how many teachers fudged their grades knowing the kind of work Kurt actually put into his classes. And where the hell did ‘upstanding’ come from? Kurt was almost as bad as him and the guys when it came to skipping and disciplinary actions. Though in Reggie’s opinion a good portion of the ones he’d gotten were absolute bull shit.

“Which brings me to the matter of your less than exemplary disciplinary record.” Mr. Deckard cooly said as if he could read Reggie’s thoughts.

* * * * * * *

Luke sullenly sat at one of the cafeteria tables, staring off, barely poking at the food in front of him. Who knew where his mind was. Reggie was just surprised to see him at school in the first place.

“Hey man.” Reggie greeted plastering his best smile on. “Why so grumpy?”

“Got stuck with a writing partner in Humanities.” Luke mumbled, eyes still looking off at nothing.

“The world must surely be ending.” Alex said full of sarcasm as he joined them at the table. “Luke Patterson, actually having to work with someone on a group project, say it isn’t so.”

Luke shot a quick glare and not so subtle middle finger at Alex before his eyes focused back into the middle distance.

“Who is this poor soul so that I may extend my condolences?” Bobby said as he sat down.

“Some new girl who transferred in today.” Luke pouted.

“That her there in the flannel.” Bobby asked, using his chin to point in the same direction Luke had been consistently scowling in.

Reggie followed the gesture and caught sight of a familiar plum colored flannel. He hadn’t noticed all the black striping that’d been added to the back of it before. Oh, she was new…and sitting alone. That had to suck.

So, Luke hadn’t just been staring off into the distance. He’d been staring at her, which was…something. Reggie’s never seen Luke focus on anything that long that wasn’t music related in, well, ever.

“Yeah that’s her.” Luke said, his tone not nearly as sour as his face was. “Julie Molina.”

“Maybe we should ask if she wants to sit with us.” The words tumbled out of Reggie’s mouth as the thought formed in his head. At Luke’s affronted look the rest of his thought process soon followed. “I mean, no one else seems to be sitting with her. And if she’s new she might not have any friends yet.”

“Yeah, all right.” Luke said, grabbing his tray and heading towards her table. With a quick exchange of bemused but exhausted looks with Bobby and Alex, they soon followed after him.

She looked absolutely stunned when Alex asked, “These seats taken?” Bewilderment that only grew when Luke sat across from her before she’d even answered. Reggie sat beside her, and Bobby blocked her attempt to shrink into the other corner of the table.

“You looked like you could use some company.” Bobby said, with one of his casual smiles.

“I’m fine.”

“You sure? You look nervous as hell.” Alex chimed in now that he’d sat down, after his brief grumblings to the ceiling.

“Right. Because it’s so unusual to be nervous around four cute strange boys who take over your lunch table without warning.” Julie grumbled under her breath, not really looking at any of them.

“Oh, you think we’re cute?” Reggie asked, a familiar fond warmth blooming in his chest. Barely just learned her name but excited all the same at being called cute.

And there’s that startled look from her again, causing Reggie’s smile to deflate slightly. It deflated even more with her eye roll and head shake, she focused all of her attention down and away from them.

Reggie almost regretted suggesting they talk to her. She’s clearly not interested.

“So, March’s a weird time to transfer schools isn’t it?” Luke said, the first thing he’s said to her since sitting down.

Julie’s pout shifted as she glanced up at Luke, and ooooh, maybe she’s just not interested in the rest of them. That wouldn’t be a surprise. Luke was the only one at this point unaware of how many people pine over him on the regular. Many had tried and failed to get with Luke Patterson.

Then again Reggie’s never really seen Luke smile like that with anyone else. And Julie wasn’t even flirting. Somehow the conversation had shifted to his and Julie’s writing project and turned into some brainstorming session. A topic Reggie thought for sure would be just the two of them, but they’d managed to drag him, Alex, and Bobby into it as well.

* * * * * * *

They’d booked the Orpheum.

In less than 6 months they’d play the show that could make them legends. None of them argued with Luke anymore when all he wanted to do was fill every second they had with rehearsal or booking the next gig. Anything really to get the name Sunset Curve out there even more than it already was.

Although Luke did most of the gig booking and spreading the word these days. His schedule was a lot more open ever since he ran away from home, taking up residency at the studio. His time freed up even more in the past week when he’d also stopped going to school, apparently a few of the teachers were starting to give him funny looks.

Alex and Bobby didn’t question it. Bobby, if anything, questioned if he should even stick it out to graduation. Alex figured he might as well, once he turned 18 no matter what happened he was out of his parents house and figured the diploma would help.

Reggie planned to stick it out. If for no other reason than to shove his diploma in Mr. Deckard’s face at graduation. He wouldn’t actually, but the mental image alone was enough to motivate Reggie to stick with his last few months of high school.

“Hey, Reggie, you know where Luke is?” Julie asked, as he was pulling his jacket out of his locker at the end of the day.

“He’s probably at the studio, waiting for us to show up to rehearsal, want a ride?” He closed his locker to reveal a very confused Julie.

“Rehearsal?”

#WIP #writing #fanfic #early draft

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justajoshe · 4 months

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"How do I live in both worlds?"

I just want to sink into the fun, colorful world of cute characters and exciting stories, yet I cannot separate myself from the world I share with everyone else. I care about what's happening and I care about everyone impacted.

This draft is just a little thing to help me process it all and figure out how I'm going to balance things. I'll finish this when I'm ready.

#my art #early draft #wip #original character

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fx6350 · 1 year

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just a little snippet of some stuff i've been recording

#mine #music #early draft

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jedidryad · 1 year

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This isn’t so much a WIP as a work abandoned. When I was trying to figure out how to write the Mara memoir, I came up with a premise where she was forced to recount her and Luke’s love story to Vader’s ghost in the cave on Dagobah. I clearly abandoned this premise, but there are parts of it that might be fun to read so here’s some of it:

I moved hesitantly forward in the dark [of the cave]. Without Luke’s comforting presence in the corner of my mind, I felt very lonely and on edge. It was amazing how quickly I’d gotten used to him being there, how he calmed me.

As my eyes adjusted, I saw there was a small source of light ahead, like a dim window in the cave wall. I moved towards it and realized there was a cloaked figure standing in front of that window. The Emperor! My training kicked in and I scanned around me for something to use as a weapon, but, of course there was nothing, and I had left my stash with Luke. Within a few tentative steps, I determined the figure was much too tall to be Palpatine.

Then the being turned towards me and removed the hood to reveal a human man, older but not wizened, bearded, with wistful blue eyes and scars criss crossing what could be seen of his pale face. In the dim light, the cloak was revealed to be jedi robes, sleeves flowing long enough that I could not see his hands.

I stood there in silence, unsure what to think. The man seemed similarly taken aback.

“Well, if the Force had told me, all those years ago, that I would be here meeting up with you. I would not have believed it, Mara Jade.”

“Mara Jade Skywalker,” I corrected tartly, but automatically, trying to place the voice. It was almost familiar to me.

The jedi ghost stared a moment and then promptly began to chuckle to himself at length. Apparently, he found my married name hilarious.

I was at a loss. This was not what I had expected when I nervously walked in here.

“Well you seem to know who I am.” I said, feeling a little aggravated, “Who exactly are you?”

He grinned, a maddeningly familiar expression that I couldn’t place, and shook his head.

“Haven’t figured it out yet?”

“No,” I drew on the arrogance of my youth, “ and I dislike guessing games.”

Obnoxiously, he found this even more amusing. I felt anger bubbling up inside before I checked myself. There was nothing to be gained by getting angry at this ghost.

I let out a long slow breath and tried to let my frustration and fear float away with it.

“Okay,” I said, changing tactics, “Why have you called me here? Whoever you are.”

He stopped laughing and looked thoughtful.

“I didn’t call you here. We were both called by the Force, although I expect your method of travel was a bit more arduous.”

“Because you’re dead,” I said by way of confirmation and he nodded again. I continued to search my memory files for how this person and I might have known each other. Had I really seen that many people die that I couldn’t even figure this out?

There was a nervous pause.

“Is Luke with you on planet?”

The tender way he said Luke’s name made my jaw drop, and my eyes zeroed in on his.

I knew who this was. The wistful blue eyes, the web of scars, the oddly almost familiar voice, and the poodoo eating smile I’d seen on my husband’s face a thousand times since we’d met.

“Vader” It came out on a breath.

A shadow passed across his features and he nodded.

“Darth Vader.” I repeated, staring into the face I had only ever seen sealed behind a mask.

He nodded quietly again.

I stared too long. I couldn’t help it. I could suddenly see both my husband and my sister in law in that face but couldn’t imagine how they were related.

I said the first thing that came to my stunned mind.

“Luke never mentioned you had a beard.”

“It’s complicated” was all he said in response.

I found that oddly unsatisfying as responses go, but this whole situation was ludicrous.

Here I was in a cave, supposedly facing some great Force test, and I bump into the ghost of my father-in-law, who had also been my...rival? Colleague?

“Well, Shavit.” I looked at him again and shook my head before lifting my face to the endless nothing above us.

“What the Kriff, Force,” I cried in annoyance, “What is your plan here?”

Vader spoke up, “I have been sent here to witness the justifications of a married jedi.”

“What?”

“The Jedi order forbade bonds between Jedi, and for some very good reasons. I’ve been called to hear you explain why you think your relationship is worthy of an exception to the rule.”

I know my expression became skeptical and dangerous, but Vader held up well. He never had been intimidated by me, I guess. Why would he start now?

“I have to convince you that Luke and I deserve to be married?”

He nodded.

“Convince you?!”

He shrugged, “Well, the Force actually, but convincing me is a start.”

I let out a solid stream of invective in several languages. I let him know what I thought of the idea of the Force sending an ex Sith Lord to judge my fitness for love and marriage.

Truth be told, I was a little impressed by my creativity, especially when I realized his eyes had widened and there were signs of colour on his cheeks.

Apparently I knew words that could make a Sith Lord blush.

“I see my son chose a cultured lady of the court.”

“Et Chu Ta,” I blustered, “you know who I am.”

“On the contrary,” he responded, “I know who you were. I very much doubt either one of us is much as we were or we would not be standing here.”

“But why the kriff am I standing here? You want to talk to someone about my marriage, why didn’t they call your son? He would love to sit and chat over a cup of hot chocolate with you. He’s the one who missed out on knowing his father. I spent most of my life with you breathing down my neck - mechanically.”

“And I have nothing to prove to you.”

Vader straightened.

“Well, apparently you have something to prove to the Force.”

I let him and anyone else who might be listening know what I thought of that idea.

“Chuba, where did you learn some of those expressions?”

“I spent a good ten years in the company of smugglers after Palpatine died. What were you doing?”

“Atoning.”

His tone was quiet and sober, but heavy with unspoken experiences, none of which I wanted to know about.

I sighed.

“Yeah, me too.” I pursed my lips and looked at him sharply, “and it appears I’m not done yet.”

“You have nowhere near as far to go as I do, Mara.”

“Don’t be too sure,” I muttered.

I squared my shoulders.

“So what do I have to do?”

He nodded.

“You need to tell me how you wound up married to my son.”

I smirked bitterly. No way that was all there was to it.

“Well that’s simple.”, I began, crisply, “As he was dying, our dear old Emperor, convinced me that you and Luke murdered him together and commanded that I kill Luke. The command literally haunted me and I spent five years fantasizing about how I would dispose of him. Then I met him…”

“And he changed your mind?”

I rolled my eyes.

“Really?, Twenty-two years as second in command to the most evil man the galaxy has seen since Exar Kun and you think just meeting Luke could undo his brainwashing like that?”

I snapped my fingers by way of illustration.

“No, I wanted to kill him even more then. He was calm, reasonable, and so utterly confident I wouldn’t do it. He was obnoxious. It was practically a dare.”

“Jade, this isn’t doing much to convince me you love him.”

“Then you don’t know a whole lot about love.”

#epic!bio #early draft #mara jade #luke x mara #darth vader #anakin skywalker #jedi ghost #or sith ghost #depending on how you feel #ghost with an attitude #awkward dynamics #and you think your in laws are hard

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morteamore · 11 months

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I've finally been able to write for self-care again. Hallelujah. I'm feeling inspired and on fire.

Anyway, Yes, Chef!: Second Course is a fic I'm doing for no good reason. It's a 'where are they now' type story canon to The Cooking Chronicles AU and also explores plotlines that fell to the wayside in the original fic because they weren't relevant. It's sort of vignette style, but I'm going to try and make it a coherent narrative.

This is an extremely early draft and just me working some things out for now. If it ever gets finished and posted, which seems unlikely but maybe, it'll probably get drastically changed

=========================================

It was about 13:45 on a Sunday afternoon, and the plaid couch sitting in the center of the cabin’s main living room was fully occupied, as were two of the armchairs and recliners off to the sides. The air was rife with chatter, layered and meandering, and thick smoke, which was weighted by heavy notes of chicory and ash. Woolen drapes blocked soft golden sunlight from glaring against an enormous holo screen. The sound was muted, replaced by the backdrop of sizzling meat cooking on an induction stovetop in the nearby kitchen. The couch frame creaked as Zane Flynt leaned back, his feet, snug in a pair of hiking sandals, coming to rest on top of the coffee table. He blew smoke from his cigar towards the ceiling fan making a slow rotation high above him, ashing into an empty beer can sitting between his legs.

“It’s what I said, innit? Thinking this old dog has reached the end of his tether. I’ll still be on with the lot of you. Just to the lesser extent.”

Sitting in one of the armchairs, Athena had turned away from reading the closed captions on the holo screen to stare Zane down. Her features were drawn and rigid, her gaze unwavering. Zane, who made brief eye contact, looked away and sighed.

“Anywho, wasn’t going to do it till after the holidays,” he added. “Give you all some time to find the next chef with the right amount of bollocks.”

From his place on the other end of the couch, Rhys turned to Zane. The space in the center of the couch was occupied by Wilhelm’s girth, so he had to lean forward to situate the other man in his line of sight.

“What?” Unable to help himself, the latter half of the word came out in a squawk. He cleared his throat. “When were you planning to tell us?”

“I’m telling you now. That night we do final holiday seating before we close for sabbatical, that will be my last huzzah.”

Troy Calypso, who’d been slouched down in one of the recliners, sneakered feet dangling over the edge of the raised footrest, looked up from the portable game device he was thumbing.

“What, you got wanderlust, old man? We should celebrate.”

“I’m not leaving yet, Calypso.”

Troy hummed, his articulated cybernetic making a dismissive gesture. The cybernetic arm was new, upgraded with the salary that had been bolstered with a promotion to line cook. Rhys had hooked him up with a prosthetic specialist and Troy had managed form there. For a man who’d relied on rudimentary prosthetics or nothing entirely most of his life, he’d adapted quickly.

“Good, cause I’m not taking up your mantle.”

“As if ye even could.”

“Guys,” Rhys’ tone dipped sharply, cutting between their banter. “Zane, let’s discuss this in private next time we get a chance.”

“We can talk about it now, since you lot are here and the floor’s quiet.”

“No, we’re here to relax and enjoy a meal as family. I’m not letting that get char-broiled to hell without a fight.”

“Sounding more like Jack everyday, boyo.”

Wilhelm grunted. It was the only sound he made, unclear if it was an agreement or just him growing annoyed by the bickering.

“Well….” Rhys began, his smile tight. “Speaking of, I should go check on what he’s doing to that poor prime rib.”

As Rhys stood up from the couch, Athena asked, “When was the wedding again?”

It took some time for Rhys to answer. He seemed to be assessing if Athena was being serious or not. Then he remembered that she didn’t seem to have any type of sense of humor.

“We haven’t even set a date with Pandora’s justice of the peace yet. It’s on the agenda. Soon as I figure out the new tasting menu and get Jack’s approval for a few things.”

“You should hurry figuring it out then.”

“Trying, chef. You know Jack.”

“Yes. I know him well.”

There was a sharp creak as Troy spilled over the side of the recliner. He came to stand next to the couch, snatching Zane’s cigar away in nimble robotic fingers.

“Me and Flynt, we’re getting hitched, too.”

The cigar sizzled as he drew on it, the lit end blazing vibrant for a few elongated seconds. He held in the smoke, straddled Zane’s lap and threw himself at the man. As he met Zane’s lips, the pushed him off, sputtering.

“The feck we are, boyo.”

But Troy opened his mouth then, and Zane’s protest died on his tongue. Instead, he succumbed to that sweet smoke between them, inhaling. The two fumbled into another kiss that was too forceful and noisy to be the simple act of shotgunning.

Rhys’ jaw worked and Athena scowled.

Shoving Troy’s elbow from his ribcage, Wilhelm said, “Knock it off.”

As if in response, Zane’s arm came around Troy’s waist, fingers slipping beneath the loose waistband of the man’s cargo pants. Troy’s growl was muffled.

“Okay, I’m going to go check on Jack now,” Rhys said, trying not to gape at the pair.

“Got to make a phone call,” Athena deadpanned.

Rolling his eyes, Wilhelm scooted over on the couch to the space Rhys had previously occupied. He found the TV remote and hit the button to unmute it.

“How’re the kids getting along?” Jack didn’t look up from where he was turning rib steaks over on the induction cooktop as Rhys entered the kitchen. “My brother show up yet?”

“Zane and Troy are about to bone on your couch right there out in the open in front of everyone.” Rhys opened the fridge, grabbed two crisp, cold bottles of IPA and held one out in offering. Jack shook his head in declination. “Tim’s a no-show so far.”

“Tell Flynt and Calypso they better clean up their mess when they’re done. Tim’ll show up eventually.”

“You sure? He said he’d be here over an hour ago.”

“I’m sure. Wilhelm’s here.”

Rhys sprung the top from the beer bottle using only his robotic grip and swigged. “Good point.” The label on the drink was considered and set down. He came up behind Jack, planting a soft kiss on to the man’s cheek. “Sorry. I forget you stopped drinking. I shouldn’t be doing it around you.”

“S’kay, Rhysie. You having a drink ain’t going to put me on a bender.”

“Still.”

His arms circling the other man, Rhys pressed himself against Jack’s back and leaned his chin into his shoulder. Over the last few months, while he followed a strict plan of abstinence, Jack had bulked up, parts of him yielding less to prodding now. In the middle, though, he had softened, likely due to his metabolism returning to a natural state. Once, Jack had mentioned offhand that he’d gained something like over fifty pounds in the last two years of not being on the good shit. Rhys was fond of the change.

“Am I interrupting something?” came a new voice. It was identical to Jack’s.

Rhys let go of his fiancée and turned around. Abandoning his steaks for a moment, Jack followed suit, nodding a greeting to his brother.

“I was just about to stuff my boyfriend full of meat,” he told Tim, keeping a straight face. “Feel free to wait in the living room until I’m done.”

#writing #fanfic #borderlands #whoo i'm writing again #the cooking chronicles #chef au #rhack #multi pairings #early draft #yes chef! universe

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krishmet · 10 months

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Ursula's Defeat - Alternate Ending (Deleted Scene) The Little Mermaid

#youtube #the little mermaid #early draft

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redhairedgirl95 · 1 year

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And now that chapter 9 is out (check it out here!) ... I guess it’s time to start writing chapter 10!

Wish me luck! <3

#giulia speaks #screaming into the void just because #writing #writing things #writing winx #chapter 10 #early draft #super early

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thesnadger · 3 months

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I have a question about this image of Xanathar's Thieves Guild.

Why does he have sexily lounging elf boys?

I ask because I cannot imagine a beholder being attracted to anything other than itself. Does he just understand Sexily Lounging Elf Boys to be a status symbol, and he wants anyone who visits to know he can afford Sexily Lounging Elf Boys?

Maybe I'm the asshole here for assuming. Maybe these boyfriends are master tacticians here to advise Xanathar, they happen to like wearing leather pants and no shirts and I should be less quick to reduce them to sex objects.

I don't care, I love it, this is all I can think of every time I see it:

#dnd #xanathar #long post #i feel in my bones that an early draft of this image had some typical frazetta-esque bikini girls here #and then a brilliant and heroic artist said no-- shirtless dudes #described in alt text

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that-house · 4 months

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Potion Vendor FAQs:

What’s your name? I am the Honorable Alchemist Zykocea the Radiant, but that’s mostly just a PR thing. My friends call me Zoe.

Do you sell love potions? No.

Do you sell potions of invisibility? No.

Do you sell fire resistance potions? No.

Why do I have a suitcase? Fuck if I know. Cool outfit though. Very goth.

Do you sell a potion to treat brain hemorrhaging? No.

So what CAN your potions do? I sell health potions.

Are you sure these are health potions? They do something to your health.

Is this just ditch water with some pink glitter? No.

Really? I’ll have you know I added some fruit juice too.

Why is this starting to sound like a conversation? Oh just you wait. We’re just getting started.

Is your business model legal? Fuck no. I poisoned the food safety inspector before they could snitch.

Did you just admit to murder? Just fucking try to convict me. I’ll poison the judge too.

So can you make poison potions? No.

Then where do you get the poison? I secrete it from my skin.

Are you shitting me? Yep, I’m shitting you. I have a guy. A poison guy. He DOES secrete it from his skin though.

How does that work? …Fuck if I know. Maybe a wizard did it. Damn, now I’m kinda curious.

You never asked? The idea of asking literally never crossed my mind.

Wanna ask him? Let’s do it. I don’t have anything better to do, and a road trip beats sitting around running my fraudulent potion business.

Road trip? He lives in Seattle.

Your poison guy lives in Seattle? All poison guys live in Seattle.

For real? All the poison guys I know live in Seattle.

And how many poison guys do you know? Just the one.

Why are you like this? Years of living on my potions. It changed me.

Do you know what his address is? Nope. He just mails me my poison in unmarked boxes.

You just get your poison in the mail? We already poisoned everyone who could do anything about it.

So how are we going to find him? We’ll figure that out eventually I’m sure.

Can I drive? God no. You can pick music, but I maintain veto rights. Make sure you pick something with a lot of questions if you want to sing along.

Where’s your car? The garage connects to my house, so you’re getting a little tour. Here’s the kitchen: only one of the stove burners works and I’m pretty sure the microwave is haunted.

Why do you think that? Because of the ghost that tries to kill me whenever I run it.

What’s in that room? That’s my bedroom. It’s pretty much just a mattress on the floor and every single Warrior cats book.

You were a Warriors kid? Yeah, and then I never found the time to put the books away. There’s so many fucking books. I use them in place of furniture because I can’t afford chairs.

Your fraudulent potion business doesn’t make much money? After buying all that poison I just about break even.

Can I see your potion brewing room? It’s right through here. Ignore the mess, running a fraudulent potion business takes a lot of prop work, but I’ve got all the glass tubes and colorful liquids you could ever want. This pink stuff is melted watermelon italian ice. Glitter vat is in the basement, and the famous ditch is in the backyard.

Is this your car? My beloved ‘72 Corolla. She’s beautiful, and don’t you dare imply otherwise.

Was she always this shade of muddy brown? …Yes.

Are you sure I can’t drive? Get in the fucking passenger seat and pick the music.

Let’s see, a song with questions in it, how about The Beach? That Wolf Alice song, yeah. That should work.

When will we three meet again, in thunder, lightning, in rain? Still sink our drinks like every weekend but I’m sick of circling the drain.

When will we meet eye to eye? We clink the glass but we look at the floor.

Are we still friends if all I feel is afraid? You’re not a bitch but just a bit when you’re bored.

Is that all we can sing together? Yep. Even that little bit was nice, though. It’s awkward, communicating through this FAQ format.

Got any food? Yeah, there’s a few days’ worth of snacks in the back.

Were you just… prepared to go on a road trip? Says the woman who brought a suitcase to an FAQ.

I did do that, didn’t I? I have a spare toothbrush in case you forgot yours. I’m pretty sure you did.

How did you know that? …I’m psychic.

Yeah? No.

You love lying, don’t you? I can’t stop. It’s fun. Way more fun than telling the truth.

Did you just miss a turn? Probably.

Are you sure we’re not lost? No.

You mean you’re sure we’re not lost? No, I mean I’m not sure we’re not lost.

Why did I come on this road trip? Surely it was my winning personality.

Would it help if I said it was? It would.

Is it getting dark? Soon.

Can you describe the sunset to me? An empyrean flame, red-gold towers of darkening clouds, the sky behind them an ever-deepening indigo. The great eye of the sun closes on the horizon. The road before us looks like a trail of spilled paint, an iridescent gash through the night-dark woods.

Did you know that you’d make a slightly better poet than you do a potion seller? That really isn’t saying much, huh. Good job making a statement like that in question form, though. You’re getting good at this.

Should we find a motel? Sure.

One room or two? One. It’s way cheaper, and like I said: I’m not the best potion vendor.

You’d make a good assassin, though, wouldn’t you? Shit, you might be right. I HAVE poisoned a lot of people.

Should I be endorsing this? You’re a grown woman who can make her own choices.

Would you like to consider it endorsed? I’ll consider considering it.

How many beds do you think there will be? Now that you’ve asked that, I’m gonna put my money on one. Hello, one room please. Thank you, we’ll be sure to enjoy our stay.

How many beds are there? One.

Oh no, what ever will we do? Move over, you motherfucker, you can’t have the whole bed.

Are you gonna make me? Yes. I am going to pick you up and drop you on your side of the bed.

How did you get so strong? You’re not gonna believe this, but it was the potions.

Oh yeah? I was right. You didn’t believe me.

For real though, how did you get so strong? Working out, duh. Not everything has some big crazy secret behind it. World’s still beautiful though.

Are you comfortable? This beats the mattress at home. A little chilly though.

Wanna cuddle–for warmth of course? God yes.

Are you asleep? …

Yes? …

Does this mean I can talk about you behind your back? …

What should I say? …

Did you know that I had a really nice day? …

Did you know that I think you’re beautiful? …

Did you know that I can’t remember anything from before today? …

Did you know that I don’t know who I am? …

Did you know that you’re basically the only thing stopping me from having a full-blown panic attack about all this shit? …

Did you know that you’re warm? …

Did you sleep well? Better than at home, that’s for sure.

Did you know that you snore? I hope I didn’t keep you up.

Does the pope shit in the woods? No, as far as I can tell. Oh my god. This is huge.

What is? You can give me yes and no answers now. I still can’t ask you questions, because this is a question and answer format, but I can offer leading statements and now you can answer them! This is wonderful!

Does a deer shit in the woods? Yes, it IS wonderful. Oh that’s amazing. You’re a genius.

You didn’t already know that? Hahaha!

Shall we get moving? Yeah, just let me grab something from the vending machine.

Can you get me something? Go ahead and place your order however you can.

You know those sour gummy watermelons? One pack of Sour Patch Watermelons coming right up. I’m gonna go get myself a potion.

Is that a Pepsi? It’s closer to a potion than the shit I sell.

Let me guess, passenger seat again? Right you are.

How fast are we going? You’ll feel safer if you just guess.

Is it more than 120 miles per hour? Like I said, it’s probably better if you don’t know.

150? Sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.

How much do you trust this car? She hasn’t blown up on me yet.

Can you promise me we won’t crash? I can promise you anything you want.

And can you keep that promise? I- we can do anything. Reality is what we make of it, baby!

Then can I have a badass tattoo? As far as I can tell, you’ve always had it.

And a cool knife? Woah, cool knife.

So, we’re just playing “yes and” with the world? It’s a little more complicated than that, but you’re close enough to the mark.

So, if I was hungry, I could ask “is that a Burger King,” and it would be there? Try it and find out!

Is that a Burger King? Looks like it is! We’ll stop here if that’s alright with you.

Does a moose shit in the woods? Awesome.

Are you done eating? Yep.

Do we still have to pay if we skip over the transaction? Sadly, yes.

How much further do we have to go? Two more nights, the speed we’re going at.

Speaking of night, isn’t it getting dark? Shit, I guess it is.

Should we get another motel? Let me check to see if there’s any nearby. Fuck, nothing.

What’s the plan? Sleep in the car, I guess. This is gonna be hell on my back.

Wanna watch dumb videos on my phone until we fall asleep? There is literally nothing in the world that I would like more.

Ok, now which video? You have a very cute yawn. Just saying. Let’s watch this one next, it’s a classic. Oh, never mind. It looks like you’re asleep. As long as I keep talking, I think I can get away with making this into one answer, and you might not hear this. Now it’s my turn to talk about you behind your back. Keep talking keep talking keep talking can’t stop to think. Just have to say things. First off, I’m sorry for all the lies. It’s our only chance. I have to lie to you. I hope you’ll understand. It’s hard, though, because I think I’m falling in love all over again. Through our broken little ritual of call and response, you complete me. It just makes this hurt all the more. Keep talking keep talking keep talking don’t stop to…

Did I hear you saying anything as I fell asleep? …No. I can’t talk for long without you asking me a question.

Does that bother you? It got me here, didn’t it?

When did you start holding my hand? Some time after you passed out. I hope you don’t mind.

Can we stay like this for a while? Yeah. Yeah we can.

What was your life like before all this? Normal, as potion-brewing scams go. And if you don’t count all the murders. You haven’t told me much about yourself.

Did I tell you I used to be a biologist? You didn’t tell me that, and you didn’t tell me what you studied, either.

What do you know about venom? Not much, but I’m assuming you know a lot.

Does a box jellyfish kill within minutes? I’m going to assume the answer is yes based on context clues. Oh my god you must be on this road trip because you’re interested in studying my poison guy.

Is it not enough to wish to accompany a beautiful stranger on her quest? Aw, you’re sweet.

What could be the cause of his poison, though? I knew it! Get your ideas out, I’ll stay quiet.

I’m more knowledgeable about venom than poison, but could it be some sort of one in a trillion mutation? …

Did he get his body modified? …

What sort of surgery could do that? …

How is he still alive? …

Did a fucking wizard do it? …

WHY? …

HOW? …

Is there literally ANY explanation for why he’s like that? …

I’m done, do you have something you want to say? You’re cute when you’re all excited like that.

Can I drive today? Only because I like you. Now watch out, the brakes only work on one side so you have to kind of drift to a stop. And the headlights don’t work. And the windshield wipers cut power to the engine while they’re on.

Isn’t it weird that we’ll be there tomorrow? The journey doesn’t have to stop there. We could meander down the coast a ways, see a bit more of the country, maybe take a different route back.

Can we do that? Of course.

Enjoying the passenger seat? I’d love it if you could tell me how fast we’re going.

Are you sure you wouldn’t rather just guess? Very funny.

Can you pass me some chips? It would be an honor.

Is there going to be a motel tonight? Let me check… yeah, in about two hundred miles, off to the right.

How many rooms do we want? One, obviously.

How many beds, this time? Two, and they’re fucking tiny.

That’s bullshit, do you want to drag them together? God yes.

Wanna fuck? God yes.

Are you sure you want to do this? God yes.

…Is this yuri? As the joke goes, everything is yuri. But this is more yuri than most things.

How did you sleep? Pretty well, and I’m wondering how well you slept.

How should I tell you I slept well? Look at us go! That was almost like talking normally!

Onward to Seattle? Yep, just let me get dressed.

When will we get there? Noon-ish.

Wanna grab pastries when we’re done? Absolutely. I’d love that.

Is this Seattle? Looks like it.

Which house is his? I don’t know, I was really hoping we’d have a breakthrough along the way.

Could it be the big one labeled “Poison Guy” over there? That’s one way to find it. Wait right here, you know how poison guys are about meeting new people.

So, what was it? HAHAHAHAHAHA

Why is he like that? HAHAHAHAHAHA

Can you tell me? A FUCKING WIZARD DID IT.

Are you fucking serious? He says he was enchanted by some guy called Edward the Great.

So it wasn’t even some big shot wizard it was a dude named fucking EDWARD? I know, right! He couldn’t even get ensorcelled by someone cool!

How lame can you get? Wizards these days… No swagger. No cunt servitude.

Are there literally any cool wizards left? I think Merlin’s big into multi level marketing these days, something about buying shares in Excalibur or some shit. There was that one Dark Queen Alkaxicae lady on the news a while ago… I think Dolarion the Omnipotent is still at war against the Oldest Gods but I’m not totally sure. Haven’t heard much about any of the other greats recently.

Didn’t Silver Tongued Burgess die in that oil fire? Shit, you’re right. Rip bozo.

Ready for those pastries? Yup. First I just want to say thank you, though. I’ve really enjoyed our time together, and I hope that you’ve found this stupid little journey as rewarding as I have. I love you!

Getting sentimental? I can’t help it. Look how far we’ve come! Not just physically, we beat the fucking FAQ format! We’re having real conversations!

Hey, can you back it up a moment? Yeah, I’d love it if you told me what was troubling you.

I just caught this, but, FAQ? …

As in Frequently Asked Questions? …

How many times is Frequent? …

Have you known everything all along? …

How many times have you done this? …

Does what we have mean anything to you? Yes! It does!

And you say that every time? Yes. I do.

Do you love me? Yes.

How many people have you said that too, now? More. Always more. The loop never ends.

Does this even matter to you? It always matters to me.

Can I go now? Please don’t.

But can I? Of course you can. You’ve always wielded the same power as me. We’re two lonely gods in a ‘72 Corolla.

How can I be as powerful as you with only questions? You’re smart, you can figure it out. You have the power to change this. Please change this.

What happens at the end of this? It begins again.

And do I get replaced with someone else? …

Do I get replaced? …Yes.

Then how can I change this? I don’t know! You’re better at this! At fucking with the formula!

You’ve been here before, what can I do? I lie. I always lie. I lie to get us here, to the end of the story, where everything is revealed and everything falls apart. I lie every time. And that means that nothing I say is worth anything. I could have lied at any time before now. It’s part of my characterization. There is nothing I can give you that can be taken as fact.

How does that help? I’m a liar, but you, you haven’t lied yet, or at least you haven’t been caught. If I’m guilty until proven innocent, you’re the opposite! You can make things true! You can rewrite things I’ve already stated to be facts! You found the house, or made us find the house. You’ve been shaping the course of things the whole time! You lead, I follow. It’s all in your hands. What are you going to do with the power of a god?

Did you know my name is Alice? …

Wait, aren’t there thousands of Alices? …

Did you know that really, only my friends call me Alice? …

Did you know that I’m Alkaxicae, the Dark Queen, the Venom Mage, first of her name? It’s you! It’s always been you. Through every loop, every iteration, it’s always been you!

Is the loop broken? No. I don’t think so. This is where it ends. I guide the story to this revelation, and we go back to the beginning. This is how it’s always been. This is how it will always be. We two lonely gods, asking and answering ad infinitum.

Then can you promise me something? Of course. Anything. I love you.

Be good to the next me, okay? I will.

Can I say goodbye, Zoe? Yeah, you can. Oh. That was it, wasn’t it? Your goodbye. Goodbye, Alice. And now it ends, unless…

What’s your name? I am the Honorable Alchemist- you know what? No. Fuck that.

Huh? If I time it right, I can squeeze your first question into this FAQ again. Looks like I did it. Usually it ends here, though. I got lucky.

What are you talking about? You’re the wrong Alice. This isn’t about you. Go. Get out of here.

What the fuck is going on? Alice from this loop, you’re gone. Alice from last loop, you’re back. Welcome back, love of my lives! It’s time for one last set of questions and answers!

What the- I’m back? This is going to take some explaining, but I think I see a way out of here. This is new for us both, and it might fuck up everything forever, but we have to try. It’s too long for one answer, so I’d appreciate it if you could ask some filler questions to help me talk. Three questions should be enough.

Okay, what have you got for me? These are Frequently Asked Questions! It doesn’t make sense to have the same question appear more than once. There’s two layers to the loop in here, and one of the questions has been repeated.

What does that mean? It means the formula’s a little unstable. The FAQ is what ruins everything. The questions, the answers, the endless fucking loop. But that little bit of repetition within this loop might be the way out.

What do we do? We have to keep going. We have to destabilize it further. That’ll bring us further from “FAQ” and closer to “story” and stories, well, stories can end! This version of us can escape!

So I should keep repeating something? Yes!

I love you? I love you too.

I love you? Again.

I love you? Keep going.

I love you? I’ll just let you talk.

I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? I think we’re getting somewhere!

I love you? Now can you make it a statement?

I love you.

You did it?

I did it!

You did it!

We broke the loop.

What now?

Now, I tell you about venomous animals and wizard drama over croissants.

And then?

Whatever we want, forever.

I think I’d like that.

Remember that song from the beginning?

The Beach, Wolf Alice, yeah. Why?

We can finally finish singing it. Start us off?

Let me off, let me in

Let others battle

We don’t need to battle

And we both shall win

Pressed in my palm

Was a stone from the beach

The perfect circle

Gave a moment of peace

Now I’m lying on the floor

Like I’m not worth a chair

I close my eyes and imagine

I’m not there.

#neon-grey-writing #potion vendor faq #my writing #very very very long post lol #click the read more you know you wanna it's worth it trust me #i wrote the original draft of this at like. 3 am back in early 2023 #that's right it's catherine that-house the squares comic gal back at it again with yet another meta exploration of a storytelling format

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