#notstinky

[magmahearts]

@notstinky from here:

Morph also looks like a hard-boiled egg.

​Lots of people like eggs.

#notstinky #thea: still bald! #public

[realmackross]

PARTIES: @notstinky, @realmackross TIMING: August 3rd at Mistwood Park SUMMARY: Waka Waka Waka Waka....Howdy Partner! WARNINGS: None!

Mistwood Park was bubbling with life; the rumbling sound of voices like a swarm of insects hung over the clatter of legos and occasional fits of laughter. Thea could pick out bits of conversation: people who had gotten narratively invested in their lego creations, people who were complaining about the heat, someone who thought a lego hot dog was a real hot dog and now had a chipped tooth. Thea had come down to watch people build their lego creations for the contest tomorrow, mesmerized by how tiny blocks could form blocky recreations and works of art. The creations ranged from lego animals to spaceships (Thea liked those best). Someone had even built a large lego castle with a winding, maze-like interior. Thea, who maintained that the most creative thing she was capable of was color coding her notes, was impressed. 

Thea walked through the park, approaching the end of the displays where a large lego Pac-Man stood, built up from hundreds of yellow legos. His accompanying ghosts and circle pellets were still being made, but she thought the scale and accuracy of the Pac-Man was impressive enough. Having walked through all of the entries to the lego building contest, Thea turned to leave when her body crashed into another’s. “Oh!” she squeaked, holding out her hands to catch the stranger if they fell. “I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was….” Thea trailed off. That was a familiar mess of blonde hair. In fact, that was a very familiar set of features. “Oh my god…” she blinked. “Wait a minute, are you Zoey Ross?” 

—

It wasn’t Mackenzie’s plan to go look at Lego sculptures in the park. In fact, the last time she had played with a Lego had been years ago, but she couldn’t stay cooped up forever after the Barbie Nightmare Sleepover fiasco. In fact, she had only recently cleaned her house. But it was nice out and instead of living life as a complete hermit, she opted to go see other people’s talent with small plastic bricks that hurt like a motherfucker when you ran one into your foot. But being dead, did this mean she was immuned now?

As she let her eyes wander up and down the rows of colorful bricked creations, she was caught off guard by a hard thud, which resulted in a Roblox type of noise escaping her mouth. If it hadn’t been for the person who bumped into her, catching her, Mack would have hit the ground, “Hey, it’s no problem. I-” Before she could finish, Mackenzie heard a squeal of recognition, but with the wrong name. It had been a while since anyone had called her Zoey. Her fellow actress on Dropped dawned the same last name, which always made for an interesting conversation after the fact, when she would have to explain the mix-up. “Uh, yeah. That would be my co-star. I’m actually Mackenzie Ross, no relation to Zoey, but I see you’re a fan of the show?” An uneasy smile crept across her features.

—

Thea didn’t watch a lot of TV, she didn’t watch a lot of anything. It was hard to stay interested when it wasn’t animated or filled with enough gore to make her sick; either she liked shows and movies intended for children or things that no child should ever watch. “Oh, um…” She willed recognition to come to her. This was not Zoey Ross, she told herself. This was someone called Mackenzie Ross. And Mackenzie Ross was famous for… Thea didn’t know. She might as well have been talking to a rock and not The Rock but a literal rock. “Oh, are you two sisters?” Thea asked with a smile. “Um, actually, I didn’t like the show. I thought it was kinda…” Thea waved her hand in the air. “Um, like unseasoned chicken.” She paused, flushing. “No offense though! I’m sure you were great in it! Not that I remember who you played—I remember Zoey Ross—but maybe it just wasn’t for me!” Thea’s hands flew around her body, trying to keep up with her rushed words. 

“W-what brings you to the LEGOs?” Thea gulped. “This, um, this Pac-Man is really nice.” She gestured to the large yellow LEGO sculpture beside them. “Um, it’s not done yet, but when they run the contest tomorrow I bet it’ll be a hit! W-what do you think, Ms. Ross-but-not-Zoey?” 

—

Mackenzie had never been so insulted yet entertained in her life. Unseasoned chicken. That was a new one, and as much as she wanted to be upset by the comment, she just couldn’t. Would this person still consider Dropped unseasoned chicken, if she had known that I had died on the set? She pushed the thought from her head. “Uh, no. We’re not related. She was just another person that worked on the show. And you know, not everybody’s gonna be a fan. I’m just not sure I’ve ever heard it be compared to unseasoned chicken before.” She laughed.

Glancing over at the huge life sized Pac-Man set up next to them, she admired the dedication it took to build it, “I think somebody has a lot of talent, and I would hate to make that thing angry if it ever came to life.” It was a LEGO sculpture, and that couldn’t happen right? I mean she knew this town was weird, but still…It was made from plastic. “And you can call me Mack.” She looked back over to the woman who was clearly nervous.

—

“Two people who worked on the show had the same last name and weren’t related?” Thea could imagine the nightmare of it. To ease the trauma she assumed Mack’s had with her last name, she smiled softly. Not that smiling ever eased any trauma, but it was the only thing Thea could offer. “I just mean it’s bland,” Thea elaborated despite the fact an elaboration wasn’t needed. “Like it wasn’t funny. For me. Or good. In my opinion. Or entertaining. To me.” Thea shrugged. “My favorite show is NOVA. Y’know? The science documentary show?” She paused, there was probably a reason she didn’t find anything live-action entertaining unless it was educational or a gore-fest.

Thea’s attention snapped away from Mack as a WAKA burst through the air. Thea stared at the Pac-Man, whose mouth was now closed. Strange. It must have always been closed, now that she thought about it. The sound must have been programmed into the stand; authentic Pac-Man noises. She turned back to Mack. “I don’t think it’ll come to life. that would be weird,” Thea laughed. “What? Would it chase us around and try to crush us under its large lego mouth?” She smiled, shaking her head. “Did you move here to lay-low?” Thea asked. “You couldn’t have picked a more normal town! I’m pretty sure, like, nothing bad happens here.” Just as she said it, something. behind her snapped. 

—

“Yeah, it wasn’t too bad considering we mostly went by our first names.” She smiled softly and wanted to keep smiling, until the insults just kept coming. The woman had definitely gotten her point across with the unseasoned chicken comment leaving Mack feeling much like Maddy from Wild ‘N Out. If this woman had said something about the actress putting raisins in her potato salad or liking mayonnaise, she was out. “Uh, yeah. Science is cool. Have you thought about talking to this guy that works at the university? His name is Gael, and he loves science. You know, it might be a little more entertaining…” Mackenzie was gritting her teeth by this point and forced a smile back onto her face.

It had come as a relief when she noticed the woman’s eyes shift to the statue rather than staying focused on Mack and insulting the show she worked so hard on and had literally died on. But Mackenzie hadn’t noticed any odd movements from the statue, since she had been so invested in trying not to slap the science out of Thea. “Yeah, it would, but I feel like stranger things in this town have happened.” The comment about the giant Pac-Man crushing them in its mouth did somewhat worry Mack though. But she couldn’t let the worry of something as silly as that- “Uh…I don’t know your name, since you were more concerned about giving me your honest opinion of my show, but I would move away from the statue if I were you…” Mackenzie motioned towards the Pac-Man that was now hovering in the air off of its stand, as she slowly began to back away.

—

The mention of university made Thea frown. If she hadn’t been bit, she would have graduated this year. Without a cure, without any semblance of control of the wolf, there was no way she could go back to school. She filed the name ‘Gael’ away, regardless, and missed the forced smile and annoyed tone; she was too far gone inside of her head. Thea picked at a loose thread at the end of her sleeve. “Um. Yeah. Maybe. Thanks,” she mumbled. 

“Thea,” she responded, still trapped in the labyrinth of her thoughts. Was it a left to clear them or a right? WAKA. WAKA. No, she must have taken a wrong turn somewhere. WAKA. WAKA. What was that about Pac-Man? Man, these sound effects were really loud. Thea turned around, her nose scraping the lip of the LEGO Pac-Man. It WAKA’d once more, pinching her nostrils. “Oh,” she said. “Oh, yeah. You’re right. We should run.” She pulled her nose free and grabbed Mack’s arm, pulling her along just enough until she was sure the actress was running too. Behind them, the Pac-Man shut its mouth with a thunderous WAKA and screeched like a rusted hinge when it opened. The ground shuddered where it carved a line through the earth, hungry for the flesh of two young women. “I don’t think this is supposed to happen!” she called out. 

—

Mackenzie’s eyes grew wide as the giant LEGO creature nibbled on Thea’s nose. Her legs continued to slowly carry her backwards, until she noticed that the woman had finally started moving away from the thing, but before she could really process it all, Mackenzie felt herself being tugged forwards by Thea.

Hearing its loud WAKA booming behind them both, Mack continued to press forward, but the neuropathy in her feet seemed to slow her down. It was a brief nip on the tush that seemed to give her the inspiration she needed to force herself to move faster. And luckily for her, running out of oxygen wouldn’t be an issue. But that thing was HUGE, and if they both didn’t pick up the pace, it was probably going to end in two flattened people and one large Pac-man destroying downtown Wicked’s Rest.

“THEA! Look!” As she continued to move forward, Mackenzie spotted a castle completely made of LEGOs that was actually rather big considering what it was made out of and where it was located, “Maybe we can hide in there!” Without giving it much thought, she turned left and started running towards the drawbridge gate. If they had needed a mote, the Pac-man could certainly lay the groundwork. But Mack’s mind was on the opening that lay just a few hundred feet ahead; no thought given on if this would be a trap in itself!

—

Running out of oxygen was, however, a big issue for Thea, who couldn’t figure out how to breathe while her pulse cleaved through her body, splintering her bones from the sinew. Her feet thumped on the ground and she tried to remember how running was supposed to feel and supposed to happen and where her feet were meant to land and what her arms were meant to do. Her body moved but her mind hadn’t caught up with the logistics. Mack pivoted left and Thea stumbled as she followed, searing her palms on the gravel before she kicked up and bolted after the blonde. Thea wasn’t out-of-shape—cardio exercise was a constant in her life—but she watched Mack run like a movie star: no sweat, no heaving. Well, she supposed, Mack was exactly that. That was so unfair; Thea probably looked like a personal-sized tornado had swept across her body and Mack looked photoshoot ready. Rich people sucked.

Thea pushed herself into the LEGO castle, diving through the threshold like a baseball player hitting home plate. “Close the doors!” she called out over her shoulder. “Close those intricately made LEGO doors!” Really, the craftsmanship was something else; not only was the castle big enough to house two adult sized women, but it seemed to stretch on into more rooms and halls. The walls were adorned with block sconces outfitted with red LEDs. Thea took only a moment to consider how that was wired. “Are we…” Thea gulped. “Are we safe?” She couldn’t hear the hungry yellow monster anymore. 

—

Mackenzie had managed to slip inside, but seeing Thea barreling towards her like a bull during the Running of the Bulls alerted her to sidestepping just in time to not get smacked. But the Pac-Man was still following closely behind, and at the woman’s request, Mack used all of her strength to close the doors just in time before the thing could WAKA them to death.

“That was so fucking close!” The zombie collapsed to the floor in relief, but also because both running and closing well made LEGO doors that were lifesize had been nearly impossible for one person, “And those doors are surprisingly heavy to be made out of just plastic blocks. Geeze!” Mack looked back up at Thea, who seemed winded, “You okay, Bud? You look like shit.” A small smirk slipped across her lips at the enjoyment of finally getting to insult the brunette back; glad they were both safe, but still getting some pleasure. “So what do we do now? Just hangout here, until that thing outside gets bored and moves onto someone else?” She looked towards a window, only to see yellow slowly floating past which made her quickly look away.

—

Thea couldn’t help it; as Mack collapsed on the floor, she peered over her, inspecting her skin. She wasn’t sweating, she wasn’t flushed—what kind of a personal trainer did she have? Thea’s heart hammered in her chest and she strained to hone in on Mack with her erratic hearing—she wasn’t very good with her strange, new senses, mostly the world was a jumble of too loud, too stinky for her—and found that she couldn’t hear anything from the actress. Well, she wasn’t good at picking up heartbeats anyway. Once, she thought she might use her new senses like a lie detector and found herself listening in on the gurgle of intestines instead; bodies made a lot of weird squelching noises she’d rather not focus on. Thea stumbled back with a flush. “I don’t look like shit!” She blinked, gesturing at Mack. “Not all of us can have…uh, whatever you have going on. Like, you look like those girls in the sportswear ads? Like Nike and Adidas and stuff? You know how they’re doing sports but all their hair is tidy and they’re not sweaty or red? That’s you.” She was too exhausted to hide the amazement in her voice.  

Thea pushed herself off the ground and dusted off. She smiled at Mack, holding out a hand to help her up. “Maybe we can check this place out? I kinda want to see what all the rooms look like. It seems like they built a lot of stuff! That’s neat.” Gone, as if it had never existed, was her fear of Pac-Man. Thea was proud of her ability to deny, forget and repress; if Nike made ads for that, she could totally star in them. 

—

A compliment from Thea? Wow! That had surprised Mack, but maybe it was because of the defeat in Thea’s voice from being winded, “You know? I think that’s the first nice thing you’ve said to me since we met. I’ll take it.” Any chance to mess with the woman, she was going to take it after being humiliated by her earlier. “And hey, Thea? I was in a Nike Ad once. I’ll show you the pictures if we ever get out of here.”

Taking Thea’s hand, Mack pulled herself up and followed suit dusting off her pants, “I’m down. Besides, it’s not like I really want to go back outside right now considering you know what is lurking around the building.” She hated to think of that thing chasing them again and chomping down. Mackenzie didn’t know how much more running she could take, despite not being winded. “Whoever constructed this thing must either be a genius or practice magic. Can you imagine the time it took?” She started to move forward taking in every delicate plastic brick that had surrounded them. “How many Legos do you think it took to make this place?” She looked over at Thea.

—

“Thanks! I guess I…wait…” Thea squinted. “What do you mean ‘first nice thing’?” She thought she was being friendly. Still heaving, she searched her pounding brain for memories of their brief conversation. Yes, in there somewhere, she had accidentally insulted her acting talent. “I mean, there’s nothing wrong with being a mediocre actress?” she said, thinking more out loud than talking to Mack. “Not that you are one! I just mean, like, if you were. Hypothetically!” Her hands shot up again, waving wildly in the air. “I don’t want to see you in a Nike ad! You’d be half-naked, probably, and I don’t want to see that. I mean, not that you’re not attractive. I mean—it…” Thea gulped, flipping around and storming down the lego hall. If she physically moved on, then perhaps they could emotionally move on and forget she said anything. 

“There’s no such thing as magic!” Thea called back from over her shoulder. “That’s silly! This is obviously like, hard work and science, or something.” At the question of how many LEGOs were inside the castle, Thea started running calculations in her head. The length of the hallway, and the length of a LEGO, and the height of the room… And then she heard it. 

It was inescapable. 

“Howdy Partner.”

The roof of the castle snapped and pebbles of LEGOs rained down on them. The smiling face of a giant LEGO Sheriff Woody peered down. Thea stopped walking. “Mack,” she said, “I think we should just run out of the park now.” 

—

Mack took pleasure in witty banter with Thea. She couldn’t help but snicker under her breath, and then there it was again; an insult wrapped up in a nice pretty compliment. By now, Mack had just come to accept it. And instead of further carrying on the banter, she let it go as she watched Thea move forward.

This day had certainly turned out much different than she had expected it would, and despite the fact that they were almost eaten by a giant Pac-man, Mackenzie had found herself grateful she had decided to venture out since things had seemed to settle down. But almost as if the Gods of Wicked’s Rest had noticed her getting a little too comfortable with her surroundings, Mack quickly heard the boom “Howdy Partner” only to look up to see a giant Sheriff Woody loom down at them both.

For once, Mack had actually agreed with Thea, and without hesitation, she snatched up her new frienemy’s hand ready to haul ass out the back half of the castle to freedom and safety with the goal of them both living to see another day.

—

As Thea ran, she spared one glance at the giant Pac-man and another for the giant Sheriff Woody and one for Mack, who was still not sweaty. As they moved on from the pack, and the giant legos turned shrunk into the horizon, Thea wondered if after mercilessly insulting Mack, they could still be friends.

#para: stuck between a brick and a hard place #para: thea #notstinky #wickedswriting

[chasseurdeloup]

@notstinky replied to your post “[pm] Hello Mr. Animal Control Officer man. I found...”:

[pm] Okay, Mr. Kaden Animal Control Officer Man. Really? What if it was made out of diamonds? Not that I could afford that...but like what if? [user is sweating] I need it for a party. A cage...party.

​[pm] I mean they cut diamonds so you have to be able to destroy it somehow. And pretty sure they don't make diamond cages.

Also pretty sure that if it's a cage party, you don't need the cages to be functional. In fact, I'd think you'd want them to be destructible in case someone does something stupid. Look, I see a lot of weird shit in this town. It's hard to shock me at this point. I promise you can tell me the truth even if it sounds damn near unbelievable.

#notstinky #c: thea

[recoveringdreamer]

@notstinky from here:

[pm] That happened to me too! I also dropped my phone in the toilet and then put it in rice. Do you think it's safe to eat toilet rice? I still have it in the bag, I don't want to waste it...but also it did absorb toilet water. [deleted: also do you eat people on the full moon]

​[pm] What's up with toilets, right? Why are they in the perfect position to catch falling phones? [...] I think you can eat toilet rice. You boil it. Right? You boil rice. And boiling kills the germs? That's a thing.

#notstinky #thea: annoying #private #unsanitary tw #just in case

[eliaskahtri]

@notstinky replied to your post “Best comic book run, go. (or top five if you...”:

Any early X-Men is better than any Captain America. Hands down.

​Oh, you're absolutely entitled to your completely wrong opinion. Steve Grant Rogers and James Buchanan Barnes AND the Falcon are simply unmatched.

#notstinky #c;notstinky #c;

[park-ranger-is-my-comfort-animal]

Hello Mr. Park Ranger man, I would like to inquire about bears. So, like, white bears? They exist right? I'm not talking about polar bears! I mean like, kinda rad looking white bears? Not that polar bears aren't rad! I used to have a stuffed polar bear until Becca Richardson in the third grade at PRINCESS MARGARET JUNIOR SCHOOL stole mine. BUT LIKE anyways are there white bears in Maine? Thanks a bunch, Thea.

[user reads through the message] [user re-reads the message] [user puts their phone down and goes out for a smoke]

...

[user comes back an hour later] [user checks to see whether the message has miraculously disappeared] [user realises that it hasn't and they will have to deal with it] [user is disgruntled, irritated and just a tad concerned]

Thea,

Thank you for your question. Our State of Maine is home to the largest population of black bears in the eastern United States, with an estimated population of between 24,000 and 36,000 bears.

Wicked's Rest is situated within the primary range of black bear habitation, so it is fairly common to see a black bear in the State Park, although in general they avoid human settlements.

Black bears can range in color from black to various shades of brown, so what you refer to as a 'white bear' was probably just a black bear with cinnamon or blond fur.

I trust that clears things up.

Jerry (Senior Park Ranger) Wicked's Rest State Park

#notstinky #Thea_Jerry_Chat

[vanoincidence]

@notstinky

[pm] No, out. Like moving out?

[pm] Oh! Um. Are you sure??? Is it because I smell like marinara??? I can shower before I come home??? Is it because I game too much??? I think Nora took my switch, and so I've been having to play more games on the old xbox. I'm sorry if I've been loud. Please don't

#pm: thea #ment: nora

[longislandcharm]

TIMING: Mid March LOCATION: Thea's house/Worm Row, directly after this thread. PARTIES:@longislandcharm and @notstinky and @the-lil-exorcist SUMMARY: A poltergeist is discovered in Thea's house. Winter calls Lil for help. CONTENT WARNINGS: None!

Lil had gotten the call and almost immediately took off to where Winter was, slightly annoyed and more so worried for the other. Mediums were often the targets of poltergeists and it sounded bad. Scary bad, and something that Lil needed to deal with now, before the other got hurt. So, with her socks half on and her shoes heelie-less, Lil had rushed out of the house to go get Winter and whatever was happening. 

Arriving where the other had said, Lil couldn’t quite make sense of what was happening. Figuring that this was not the time to look around and not thinking that the owners of the place were going to fight her specifically, Lil kicked down the door, rushing in worried. 

“What the fuck is going on?” Lil asked her eyes trying to take in the scene and find the other. Fuck maybe she shouldn't be a teacher, if this was the result. Still, she was probably the closest person that could do something. “Winter, where are you?” 

It was utter chaos at Thea's house. Winter had tried to do something good for once in her life and look where it had gotten her: in the middle of a poltergeist tantrum that she knew wouldn't end anytime soon. The medium was huddled with the owner of the house inside of a closet in Thea's room after calling Lil to come meet them, Henry crouched down next to them if only to be a source of comfort while the ghost outside continued to throw things around. Loud thumps sounded against the door, the wood cracking under the weight of whatever objects were being thrown their way, when she heard another thud join in followed by the sound of her mentor's voice calling out for her.

“Oh, thank god.” Or...thank Lil, anyway. “Do you think we can slip out while it's on a rampage?” She wasn't sure who her question was directed towards, Thea or Henry, but she knew that there was only one answer for it. Either Winter had to yell loud enough for Lil to hear her above the racket the ghost was making or she had to face the thing that was outside trying desperately to get its claws into her...or whatever it was that ghosts did to harm others. 

“I don't think there's any way to distract it?” Henry finally said it out loud and Winter let out a guttural sound, knowing this wasn't going to go her way no matter what she did. “Hopefully Lil will hear us if we both yell.” Her gaze turned to Thea, Winter not wanting to risk letting her go out there as much as she didn't want to risk herself. Thea couldn't even see it, she would be at a complete disadvantage. “On three we both yell for her. Maybe this thing will be concentrating on trying to get to us hard enough to allow her to stop it?” 

She didn't know if that would work but they had to try. If they didn't do something soon the damage to Thea's house would be too much to repair. She'd already seen a huge chunk missing from the girl's bedroom wall before they locked themselves in with her clothes. “Alright...1,2, 3.” She took in a deep breath before screaming the other medium's name at the top of her lungs, making the poltergeist even angrier. The door started to rattle even harder, Winter knowing it didn't have long before the wood splintered completely and exposed them both.

Thea held her hands over her ears, rocking back and forth. She’d tried Wizard of Oz—knocking her feet together, mumbling that there’s no place like home—but that hadn’t worked. And why would it have? This was her home. Well, if the sorry state of her bedroom was any indication, it wouldn’t be her home for long. Tears streamed down her blotchy red cheeks. What was the name of the person Winter had called? It was something like Lola? Fuck. “Uh, okay. Fuck. Okay. On three? Okay…” Thea counted along with winter and bellowed in tandem, “Lauren!” Thea winced at the shrillness of their voices. Outside the closet they were huddled in, which was thankfully quite spacious, the thing—ghost, poltergeist, extremely elaborate and kinda mean prank—raged, throwing her furniture around like a tornado, taking chunks of her house with every loud clang and shuddering crack. “Lettuce! Little! I don’t know, whoever the fuck…” A crack splintered through the wood of the closet and Thea shrekied, flattening herself against her sweaters. “Help me Obi Lil Kenobi, you’re my only ho!” Humor was great for mitigating the horror that quivered through her. 

“Winter…” Thea turned to her companion. “I-If we die I just want to say that I’m really sorry. For inviting you here…and, uh, also that your parents named you after a season. At least you’re not ‘Summer’, right?” She offered a thin smile, eyes watery. She really hoped Luna would be coming soon. 

Lil, ironically, couldn't hear the ghost much. Sure the whooshing sounds were loud as it shook the door her eyes focused on hearing two people screaming - well one was Winter saying her name at least. If she hadn’t been so focused she would have laughed as the other seemed to not know who she was. It was easy to locate them and she moved through the house to where the screaming was happening.  It wasn’t hard, the ghost throwing everything that the owner had around the room. It was pissed - and she wondered what the fuck Winter had done. 

That was for later Lil to figure out. Now she had to make sure that the two screaming for her were okay. When it was between a teachable moment and safety, she was always going to choose the safe one. 

Turning the corner and hearing a crash she realized what was going on. Cursing under her breath for a moment she turned back ground the corner dropping her back and pulling the chalk and salt she had she sighed knowing that this was going to suck and she was about to get thrown by a ghost again before she leaned over to draw a circle on the ground hoping whoever owned the house wouldn’t mind. If she annoyed it right she could get it to push her back to the circle and trap it. 

Hearing the crash and knowing that she had to move quick Lil moved quickly calling out, “ I’m here. Sit tight guys. I’m going to get it.  Ghost in there with Winter - get away from the door I don’t want you caught in what I’m about to do. Winter this fucker’s going to try to body hop ask your  ghost friend in there to stop it from trying please!” She knew it was dumb but her handful of salt was going to at least stop the poltergeist from getting through that door. Still, if she asked the ghost who was attached to her to help, she might also be able to protect the not medium friend from getting jumped. 

“Hey asshole! Get away from the fucking door idiot I’m the exorcist. You'd better pay attention to me. Cause I’m the one that’s going to hurt you,” Lil bellowed, moving towards the door, moving to spread the salt in a line before facing a very pissed off poltergeist. Good. She was better at handling an annoyed ghost than anything else and she wasn’t in the mood.  

“Thea, we’re not going to die, get that out of your head right now.” Winter decided to ignore the comments about her name, now was not the time to go into her regular spiel about it. She knew she had pissed off this poltergeist but with Lil’s warning she now realized it was trying to get to the other girl for more nefarious purposes. Her eyes cut to Henry who shrugged, obviously not sure how to go about keeping the poltergeist at bay. “I don’t know! Just get in front of her and try not to let it through you!” Poor Henry looked exasperated but did as he was told, standing in front of the cowering girls and directly behind the door that was now opening wider from the split with each blow from the other ghost. It was ignoring Lil altogether, not surprising considering the goal. 

She started to scan the contents of the closet, trying to find anything she could use to deter the ghost but it was highly unlikely she would be able to put the contents of the small space to use. Why hadn’t she bought her iron bracelet yet? She’d only wanted it to keep Henry away but she should have known coming into something like this she might need something other than the salt. “Thea, you don’t have anything that’s made of iron in here, do you?” It was a long shot but Winter was desperate. After seeing the state of the other’s room before shutting themselves in here she knew this was no ghost to tussle with and who knew how long it could take Lil to get inside. 

“We’re gonna die, we’re gonna die, we’re gonna die…” Thea repeated as she rocked back and forth; the thought was not getting out of her head. Was the afterlife nice? Would she still be lactose intolerant in the afterlife? She hoped not; she’d really love heaven mac and cheese. Oh, who was she kidding? She was not going to heaven. She didn’t know the girl on the outside; Loba, Lora, Lasagna, whoever she was. She didn’t know if she could trust her or what she looked like or she was the one that facilitated the strange prank, but Thea realized quickly that she didn’t have a choice. She had to trust Laryngitis. “Body hop?” Thea turned to Winter. “Is that--that doesn’t sound fun.” 

Her ears burned at the suggestion of iron. Quickly, she reached up into her small assortment of coats. “Yes, actually, I went to this vintage shop and…” She trailed off, deciding that Winter didn’t need the history. She’d found something with the cutest little buttons: iron, as she’d later found out. She ripped them all off, thrusting two towards Winter as she shoved the rest under the closet doors. “Those are iron buttons, Lactose!” she called out. 

She didn’t know what they would be good for, but now wasn’t the time to question anything. 

Lil realized after a moment it still wasn’t really noticing her the anger still not directed at her. Fuck. She’d have to do a backup plan - and she’d have to ask Winter what the hell they’d done to make it so angry that Lil couldn’t automatically pose a threat. Still, she moved into the swirling hurricane of a spirit. Figuring it might just be easier to get it trapped when she wasn’t the main object. It was harder to make a circle, the spirit’s motion closer to a hurricane then something Lil should reasonably get closer too. 

Still, she gritted her teeth and pushed on dropping to the floor to do so and trying to not pay attention to the screams of the other two. Sighing and knowing that there was a chance she was about to get thrown she moved in front of the ghost completing the circle as it suddenly realized Lil was there. 

“Oh fuck you man I gave you a warning -” Lil said suddenly being pushed away as it realized the circle was there, an object hitting her as she yelped ducking again before putting her hand on her necklace, starting to chant as the ghost now realized what Lil was. She was just glad she couldn’t hear what the hell the spirit was saying, curling into a ball and speaking as clearly as she could. 

The question of body hopping momentarily had Winter stumped, not really sure what to say to the already terrified girl next to her. She could make it worse if she tried to explain so she just shook her head as the ghost kept crashing into the door. “I wouldn’t worry about it. It’s nothing really, just keep coming up with weird names for Lil. Lettuce…was pretty?” How the hell did someone comfort another during this situation? Or at all? Henry looked back at her, clearly wondering what the hell Winter was on about, but turned his attention to the door as it finally cracked completely open. 

His hands were up in an instant, doing his best to hold back the furious poltergeist as it fought to get to Thea, but he wasn’t as strong as the other ghost. Shockingly, the other girl came through with the iron, Winter grateful as the cold hit her hands. She scooted so that she was in front of Thea and held out the buttons towards the two ghosts knowing that Henry was seconds from losing his grip on the other. 

But Lil, sweet beautiful Lil, finished the circle around the ghost just before Henry got thrown to the other side of it slamming against the wall that was containing both of the girls. She watched through the cracks as the medium got thrown, Winter yelping the girl’s name in hopes of getting an answer. Luckily, her answer came in the form of chanting that the other medium didn’t understand but knew had to be some sort of saving grace for them all. 

That was when the room started to shake. Her eyes widened as the poltergeist’s anger really started to manifest around them, clearly not enjoying the fact that it was trapped and close to being taken out. Lamps exploding, furniture being thrown through the plaster of the walls, a curtain now on fire from the sparks of electricity, it was turning into hell in that bedroom and if they didn’t get out soon it would end in tragedy. “Lil, please hurry!” 

“I’m kinda out of words that start with L!” Thea admitted with a slight embarrassment. “What did you say? Lil? Is it because she’s little? That’s kinda mean, Winter.” It was worse than Lettuce, in her opinion. But Thea shut her eyes, recognizing that she had nothing to really offer her but her company—which wasn’t much. Winter moved closer to her, holding up the buttons, and Thea tried not to think (which was something she’d never been very good at). 

If she died here, would she have lived a good life? Probably not. If the roof fell in on her, could she say she was happy? No, absolutely not. In her youth, Thea penned a list of her aspirations: go to university, get a degree, have a wife, be an astronaut. How could she quantify her life? She hadn’t done anything; she hadn’t become anyone. She was just Thea, in a closet, trying not to cry and having already failed at that. “Lady! Location! Loaf! Lion! Lamp!” She screeched the words, summoning them from the depths; that part of her that had really loved Scrabble. “I want to live,” Thea yelled, “I want to get out of here! End it! Finish it! Save us!” Hot tears streamed down her cheeks. 

Lil concentrated on the words, keeping the chant up as the house shook ignoring the other’s who were asking her to finish it. It wasn’t out of malice or that she didn’t care - Lil cared a lot but at the moment the chant was more important. A sudden glow happened as she pulled herself back up looking at the poltergeist a focus that in day-to-day life Lil never had. 

In the middle of chaos Lil often found some sort of peace, something she wasn’t particularly found in exploring as she watched from the ground her hand gripping her necklace she looked absolutely calm in the moment as she reached the end of the chant seeing the poltergeist looking screaming mad. 

The floor shook the weird tornado of things swirling around trying to hit Lil and then suddenly there was a light - and like everything else in her life things crashed down. 

Then suddenly it was quiet - at least for Lil, she didn’t know what the poltergeist said looking at her and disappearing. For a moment she said nothing until she called out “You two okay - You can come out now.” 

Lil’s voice was a little weaker than she liked it to be and there was a bruise forming where a lamp hit her, but other than that she was pretty sure the living room took most of the beating. “And my name Is Lil - Winter what the hell happened here?” 

“It’s because that’s her name!” Why was this girl so insistent on yelling out everything that started with an L? They were kind of busy trying not to die! But it didn’t help that she was starting to lose it too so Winter took a breath to try and calm her nerves. Thea had no idea what was going on here, she couldn’t blame her for trying to concentrate on something else entirely. 

She could hear commotion outside the door and she peaked through the crack again to see what was going on. The poltergeist was angry as Lil continued to chant but then there was a light and the crash of all of the belongings floating through the air. The ghost was gone with a simple “But it’s my house…” Everything was calm with the exception of the fire that had started the flicker of the flames glowing through the crack in the door, which prompted Winter to crawl out of the enclosed space as quickly as she could.

Standing, the girl tried her best to look composed as she smoothed over her shirt but she wouldn’t meet Lil’s eyes. “I thought I could handle it. I didn’t know it was a poltergeist.” There was no shame lacing her words, more like defiance, but she sure as hell felt it along with the relief that had taken over her panic. A headache was forming as her adrenaline started to rush out of her body but there was something else to worry about here. “I think we’re okay though…Thea, are you okay?” 

She looked back at the open closet door, watching Henry as he got to his feet and moved out. Then her eyes went to the person who actually lived in this house. “We might want to get out of here and call the fire department…”

Smoke was all Thea could smell. It was almost comforting, like autumn nights by a crackling fire, almost. She burst out of the closet, crawling around the floor. After going around another torn floorboard, Thea pushed herself up. Her room was a mess; as if a localized tornado had run through, splintering and pulling everything in its path. “I’m sorry I called you ‘lettuce’,” Thea said to the woman who’d saved them—Lil. She wiped the tears off her cheeks and hoped neither woman noticed, but knew that they had. Winter and Lil couldn’t have been that much older than her and still, somehow, she felt like a kid. Still, somehow, she felt like this was her fault. “Winter was trying to help me,” Thea said; she wasn’t going to dissect the ‘poltergeist’ part of Winter’s sentence. “And she did! I probably would’ve been crushed, since she’s the one who insisted it might be ghosts. And I guess it was ghosts. So, yeah, Winter helped me.” Thea felt the need to defend Winter to Lil, it didn’t sound like Lil was scolding Winter, but there was some sort of dynamic between them that pushed up her need to soothe turbulence. 

“Am I okay?” Thea pointed to herself, incredulous. “Is she okay?” She pointed at Lil, and the bruise forming. “Are you okay?” she asked Winter, expecting that the answer for all of them was a ‘no’ that they’d lie about and call a ‘yes, I am okay’. “Do you think I’ll get my deposit back?” As Thea asked, the ceiling cracked and a small section of drywall and insulation fell into the flames. “Okay, maybe not.” She turned her attention back to them. It was a small miracle that her important documents were with Van—now who was being financially irresponsible by renting out a room she didn’t need? It was less of a miracle that some things she loved were still here: the coat she’d come into Maine with, bits of jewelry, shoes and memories. Despite all its faults, she’d loved this house. It was the place that had made her feel normal. Now, it was anything but. She was cursed; this was all her fault. 

“Yeah,” she mumbled, pushing out of the room. The door had been ripped from the wall, thrown into one of her roommate’s rooms—who wasn’t here, because they were never here. “Let’s get out of here.”

#Threads #Thread: Lil #Thread: Thea

[notstinky]

TIMING: Van's birthday; March 12th, 2024 FEATURING: Van (@vanoincidence) & Thea (@notstinky) LOCATION: The streets SUMMARY: It's Van's birthday! And it's her right as birthday girl to receive products for free. Thea and Van embark on a quest to be normal and get like, a free chicken sandwich or something at least. WARNINGS: Unsanitary tw (gamer girl bathwater discussion)

Van stared down at the options before her. A bent toothbrush, a hair clip that had the charm snapped off, and an old tape that’d been half unraveled. She looked over at Thea, confusion evident on her features before looking back to the shopkeeper. “You mean… you don’t have like, I don’t know, a free cookie or something?” The man looked at her with a arched brow. “This is not a cookie store, girly. You get what you get, and this is what we have for birthday items. What will it be?” She didn’t know how to use a cassette player, and something told her that it was destroyed beyond repair at this point, so she picked up the toothbrush. Maybe she could use it to clean the nooks and crannies of the stove, or maybe she’d learn how to hold it in a way that didn’t matter if it was bent. 

“Come on, Thea.” She tugged her friend’s arm, looping it through before heading in the direction where she thought maybe she could at least get a cupcake. “Why is every place so weird? Like, if we lived in a city, I’d at least have a free chicken sandwich or anything.” She dug into her bag with her free hand, coming up with the items she’d already received. A pack of blue rubber bands, a half empty bottle of advil, and windshield cleaner. “At least the windshield cleaner will like, be nice… I don’t know if I trust the advil, though.” She was almost sure it’d been taken from the shopkeeper’s own stash. 

It was the right of every financially challenged individual to use birthday promotions to their benefit. That was what Thea believed—knew. Like the way the sky appears blue or that bidets are a necessity, she knew that it was Van’s right as the birthday girl to abuse the marketing tactics of million dollar corporations: Denny’s, Starbucks, Sephora, iHop. Thea had taken it personally when Van’s spoils had been so lame. The first time felt like a sour bubble in her gut and by the time they were getting the windshield cleaner, her shoulders collapsed with disappointment. When Van was picking up the toothbrush, hope vanished from Thea’s eyes. When she’d looked it up online, the results showed that one could expect ‘come find out (winky face)’ on their birthday in Wicked’s Rest. She supposed this was them finding out (though with a notable lack of winky face). 

The hope might have left her eyes, her face, her body, but it hadn’t left her soul. As was Thea’s preference for walking with Van, she linked their arms together and squeezed their bodies together. “I think this is like Voltron; we’re just collecting the pieces for something. When we combine it we’ll get, like, a PS5.” She smiled brightly, nudging her friend. “It’s not so bad!” It was terrible, it was miserable. “Who wants a chicken sandwich anyway? You can get those from anywhere.  But suspicious Advil? That’s a rare item: S-Rank, Five-star, ultra rare; to put that into anime girl gacha game terms for you.” Thea wanted a chicken sandwich; she’d skipped lunch thinking they’d be drowning in pancake after pancake by now. Besides, there was no way she could sugar coat it to make it sound like used Advil was S-Rank when it was so clearly C-Tier. Still, more than anything else, all she wanted was for Van to have a good day and an even better birthday. 

“Are you getting tired?” Thea hummed, eyeing the line of shops—restaurants, to cafés, to clothing stores, to that one store that always smelled super eggy. “I think I’ve got a few more in me before I give up and just start paying for things.” She adjusted the strap of her bag with her free arm, Van’s simple present rattling inside. There was one boon to the shitty spoils: it made her gift feel a lot better by comparison. “Where do you want to go next?” 

“Maybe somebody will trade all of this for an old DS or something, you’re right.” Van laughed softly as they continued on their way. She looked at Thea out of the corner of her eye with an arched brow. She knew when people made an attempt to make her feel better, and though Van should’ve been a little disappointed by her birthday spread, it could have gone a lot worse. She could’ve been alone today. Jade was taking her out for drinks later tonight, but at least she got to spend the day with Thea. After everything that had happened with Regan, she needed a normal day. Or, as normal as it could be, all things considered. 

“I don’t know, I think chicken sandwiches are actually pretty good.” She was getting a little hungry and she hoped that the free cupcake was actually a cupcake and not a bar of soap. Though, it wouldn’t have been the first time she’d eaten something that wasn’t food. Van rolled her eyes at Thea as she translated the terms over into gacha game terms. “Hey! I know what that means like, otherwise. I play other games with those things, not just gacha.” She tugged on Thea’s arm gently, redirecting her towards the crosswalk to the right of them instead. 

“Maybe we can get a red bull or something…” Van hummed under her breath as they wandered forward, rolling her eyes at Thea’s offer. “Do that, and I’ll never forgive you. Besides, what if that like… breaks the ritual of all this? The floss might be worth something, we don’t know.” She really didn’t think it was, but whatever. “Maybe to the corner store– re-up, get caffeine, see if they’ll maybe give me a sugar packet.” Van grinned, finally feeling a little bit like herself in this moment. The anxiety hadn’t yet reared its ugly head, and for that she was grateful. She wanted one normal day, and she would get it. 

“Because you’ve been running all over the place with me, I’m definitely going to buy you my choice of red bull, by the way.” Before Thea could protest, Van was tugging her through the shop doors, raising a hand of greeting towards the clerk. She led the way towards the back fridges, disappointed to see that there was no red bull, but weird off brand energy drinks instead. “What is… goose juice?” 

“Exactly! Like those YouTube videos of the people trading up their pennies for a Tesla, or whatever.” Thea grinned, flush with the joy of having a friend and being with her friend. The fact that it was Van’s birthday meant something to Thea, however arbitrary it must have felt to all the businesses they visited. This was her friend, Van: kinda short, cool, seemingly chronically tired, definitely very sad on the inside. Today was Van’s birthday. It meant something more than the full rotation of the Earth from the day she came into it but the words were lost to Thea, not that she could jumble them into a sentence anyway. Birthdays always felt special to her; beyond the gifts, the candles, the notoriety and free pancakes. Today was Van’s birthday. 

“I’ll stop teasing you about your gacha games when I see evidence of you doing anything else but trying to collect cute anime girls on your phone.” Thea smiled, happily led along by her friend. “No,” she whined gently in a playful tone, “not a Redbull; first of all I think you’re like ninety percent caffeine at this point. Like if you prick your finger neon green Monster energy would flow out. Secondly, don’t you want to…” Sleep. Rest. If Van had an energy drink now, would she be up the rest of the day, ruining her chance at a full sleep? Thea bit the inside of her cheek, stopping herself from chastising Van like she had any room to; she wasn’t any better. Most of her diet was coffee and energy drinks and makeup was the only thing that saved her from showing off the eyebags and dark circles that, by now, were permanently welded to the bottom of her eyes. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d had a good sleep. And anyway, it was Van’s birthday, if she wanted Redbull, Thea would put aside the part of her brain that wanted to pretend she was responsible. 

“Do they make anime-girl flavored Redbull or…” Thea trailed off, staring into the glass fridge. “Goose Juice,” she repeated. “And that’s not even a goose, that’s a Gadwall—a duck.” She opened the fridge, grabbing two cans of Goose Juice: Goose Juice Original and Goose Juice Extreme Goose. “I was thinking of getting into birding because it’s like looking at the stars but during the day and it’s birds but these people in the bird group were like ‘get serious or get lost’?” She flipped the can over, frowning at its lack of any explanation. “There’s no ingredient list,” she said, “or like, a number to call and tell them that this isn’t even a goose.” She held the cans up. “Do you want to try these? Or we could do, like…” She squinted at the offerings. “Moose Juice? Oh, come on! That’s an elk!” She shook her head. “The standards of local energy drink makers are so low.” 

“A penny for a Tesla sounds like, really overrated. Maybe a penny for…” Van thought about it for a moment, drawing a blank. “Maybe a new Honda Civic or something, I don’t know.” That seemed funnier, in its own way. “Or maybe a prius.” She looked over her shoulder at Thea with a frown. “I’m literally doing other things like, all of the time. I work! A lot!” Not so much recently, but that didn’t really matter, did it? Sly Slice was on the slower side which meant hours got cut. Once spring break was over for the students, things would pick back up. That was sort of how it always happened, anyway. 

Van scoffed at Thea’s comment. “Not monster, red bull. It’d probably be like, sort of red– ‘cause of the peach nectarine flavor and stuff.” She’d never stoop so low as to drink monster energy. Not even the coffee one, mostly because those made her stomach hurt. She’d sooner drink tea over those any day. 

“If they did, I think I’d know about it, but I don’t want it to be like, one of those weird situations with that one gamer girl, you know? That was like, totally weird. Did you know it wasn’t even her bath water?” Van was talking about things that didn’t really matter when it came down to it, but she knew Thea would listen, anyway. Thea always listened– she was a good friend like that. The two cans of Goose Juice were… the packaging was cool, Van had to admit, but it definitely wasn’t a goose. Even Van could tell that much. “I think that one is an antelope.” She pointed at another one of the Moose Juices and frowned. She’d never seen this brand before. That didn’t really stop her most days, anyway. She’d eat anything if it looked good enough. “We can try it!” Van took the cans from Thea and hugged them against her chest. “I think you should totally bird watch if you want to, by the way. Like, what are they going to do? Sic the birds on you or something?” She rolled her eyes, “that sounds like, totally stupid. They can’t even control birds.” Van led the way to the cashier, putting the drinks down for the cashier to scan. He looked down at the drinks, then back up at them. 

“These come with t-shirts, do you want them?” Van’s eyebrows furrowed, then she looked over at Thea. “Um… are they free?” The man rolled his eyes, “that’s what comes with means, doesn’t it?” Van dug into her bag for the measly 10 dollar bill that’d surely cover the two drinks. “Yeah, we want them!” The man turned on his heel and dug into a box on the ground, later producing two t-shirts– both oversized. There were two non-geese on the front doing kickflips on skateboards, a giant thought bubble cascading over the arm in a misprinted fashion, GET GOOSED, OR GET GOSSED. 

“I didn’t know you were such an energy drink purist.” Thea snorted. “Sorry, sorry, your blood is peach Redbull. Will you ever forgive me for forgetting your favorite energy drink?” She grinned, feeling past anxieties wither away. Slowly, the sounds of the world dissolved into white noise. Today was Van’s birthday, and nothing else mattered so much to Thea. She forgot about their terrible spoils and how shitty her gift was. All she was paying attention to was the sound of Van’s voice, and the shape her lips made over the words, and the nonsense that was coming out. “I think that’s like, probably a liability thing?” Thea countered with her own nonsense. “Like it can’t be her bathwater ‘cause that’s nasty and what if someone drank it and got sick? Or, I don’t know, I guess maybe it was a money thing? You should know because you’re a gamer girl.” She smiled. “You have the gamer girl telepathy connection—like Cerebro but for gamer girls. Do you know what Cerebro is? Never mind, I shouldn’t start talking about X-Men.” It was more than likely she would never stop. 

Thea tugged on her hat as heat crawled into her cheeks. There was something about Van saying she could birdwatch that embarrassed her just as much as it made her feel like it was actually possible. “They just might.” She smiled softly. “Sic the birds on me, I mean. They’re kinda scary.” They were very scary, like a nerdy bird mafia. She was positive they had Latin bird names memorized and she thought anyone that had any amount of Latin memorized was scary. But Van was right, they couldn’t control birds. Then again, people couldn’t turn into animals and she had howled at enough full moons to prove that wrong. As Van moved away, the world fizzled back into place. Yes, she ate people. It smelled like bleach and rot in this store. Why was she getting an energy drink when she knew it made her more anxious? She was so tired. Van wasn’t having fun and it was all Thea’s fault. 

Thea grasped at the open air, desperate for her friend. She caught up to her quickly at the counter, heart pounding. “Free stuff! Finally!” She cheered, a little winded, forcing her smile to go a little wider. When the shirts were presented, Thea snatched one up, dropping her bag to the ground. Without hesitation, she pulled the oversized shirt on, wearing it over her sweater. “It’s kinda perfect,” she said, as the world faded back out. “Come on, you gotta put yours on too.” If Van wasn’t here, she might have been thinking about how presumptuous she was being; maybe Van wanted that shirt for someone else, not her. Or maybe Van didn’t want to put it on now—didn’t want to walk around matching with her. But Van was here, and it was her birthday, and they were friends. “The shirts are S-Tier for sure—for shirt.”

Van rolled her eyes. “Only gamer dudes who don’t like, wash their armpits drink monster.” She wasn’t sure if that was true, and some monster energy drinks were good, but she definitely preferred Red Bull. It was fairly obvious at this point, anyway. “I don’t know, I might never forgive you. It like, totally depends.” She stuck her tongue out at Thea playfully, glad that today was panning out the way it was. She was having fun with a friend, and it wasn’t a birthday where she was holed up in her room curled up beneath the covers— instead, she was… having a nice time? Fun, even. Thea was fun, and Van was grateful that out of her days off, she’d chosen to hang out today. 

As Thea went on to explain liabilities, Van shrugged. Thea probably had a point there. But still, there’d been a whole thing about false advertising, and by the end of the twitter thread (fuck you, x), Van had been so squeamish about bath water that she took only showers from then on. “Why would you insult me like that? Gamer girl. That’s like the whole, not being like other girl things only with another thing on top of it.” Van liked games, but she didn’t consider herself to be a gamer girl. Oh no, maybe she was a part of the I’m not like other girls crowd with that mindset. “Never mind, I guess… you’re right, I am a gamer girl.” She bowed her head in respect for the crimes she’d committed in that moment, hand to her chest. “I know X-Men! You can keep talking about X-Men, but I don’t know if I agree with you. There’s no like, telepathic connection here.” 

“If they did, the birds would like, learn how nice you are and turn around and attack the other people…” Van grinned at Thea, willing her friend to believe that she could do anything she put her mind to. Whoever told her that she couldn’t bird watch was a total asshole, and Van kind of really hated them for it. 

Van grabbed the t-shirt that was presented to her, pinching at the corners of the arms as she took in its full view. It was funny, in a weird nonsensical way. Thea was already putting hers on, and Van had to hide the smile that definitely meant I’m glad we can share something. She did so by pulling the shirt over her head. It was a lot longer on her than it was on Thea, but it didn’t matter. She’d wear it as long as Thea wore her’s. “S-tier for shirt…” Van snorted at Thea’s (missed) joke and tugged on her arm, leading Thea out of the store after paying for the Goose Juice. 

“What do you think these even like… taste like?” Van tugged at the collar of the oversized shirt slightly, crouching down at the end of the sidewalk that led back into the store. She cracked open one of the drinks and peered inside. It was a weird orange color, that much she could tell. She looked up at Thea with a grin. “What if this is like, my new favorite energy drink?” She hoped it wouldn’t be— it was way more expensive than Red Bull. But maybe it wouldn’t be all that bad. She’d be reminded of Thea every time she drank it from then on. 

“I drink Monster.” Thea frowned, summoning her best attempt at a wounded puppy. She couldn’t be sure how she looked, maybe it was closer to ‘crusty stray dog’ than ‘puppy’, and anyway, she couldn’t keep it up for long. She burst into a wide grin, meeting Van’s playfulness with her own. “Sometimes I’m really into that sugary, battery-acid stuff. And sometimes, it’s got more caffeine per dollar so it feels like a more sound investment despite my slow demise into a gamer dude with stinky pits.” The Monster plus java drink was probably a crime against her body, but there was something about chugging an obscene amount of caffeine all at once that really made her survive being underpaid like nothing else could. “Is it?” Thea tilted her head to the side as Van went on, humming in consideration. “I thought, like, you’re a girl…and you play games so…you’re a gamer girl. But maybe you deserve your own special classification! You’re a Red Bull fueled Van—not like the car—girl.”

At the mention of X-Men, Thea perked up. There was nothing that derailed any pattern of thought much like something she was fixated on: astronomy, science in a broader scene, celestial objects and X-Men. “So in the comics, there’s this underground mutant society where all the nasty mutants went because they felt like, ugly or whatever. And their leader is Callisto and she’s all like, I’m ugly! I gotta go in the sewers because I’m so ugly! But she just has an eyepatch? Like she looks fine? Like maybe Callisto should relax?” Thea didn’t consider that she was like Callisto in many ways; her baldness did make her want to go create a new society in the sewers. “I would be so mad if I went into the sewers because I was too ugly for society and Calisto with her abs and eyepatch was my leader.” Thea shook her head. “I, uh, totally forgot what we were talking about.” Something to do with birds, probably; Thea felt vaguely encouraged by Van, though she assumed it was Van’s general presence that did that. 

“S-Tier for shirt! Duh.” Thea giggled as Van pulled them along. But not even Van could counteract Goose Juice; the smell hit Thea in one acrid wave. Goose Juice reeked of indeterminable chemicals. She peered into the can. “It doesn’t smell like orange.” Usually orange things smelled like orange because they were orange-flavored, Thea’s favorite. Goose Juice was a different beast. “I think all cans of Peach-Nectarine Redbull are crying right now because you even suggested that.” Thea shook her head. “Oh! But--uh, hold on--” Thea pulled them to a halt, jamming her hand into her bag. She pulled out a small box, delicately wrapped and adorned with an orange ribbon. “Since, you finally got something for free…” Thea tugged on her matching oversized Goose Juice T-shirt. “...I can finally give you your present.” Present was certainly a generous word for her attempt at Crazy Frog earrings—the market for Crazy Frog merchandise was limited enough that Thea had to make her own. But she’d never really worked with clay before, and she wasn’t much of an artist, and they didn’t look the same and one was certainly more Kermit than Crazy Frog and if the earrings were sentient then they would probably want to live in the sewers with Callisto and oh god, what had she been thinking? 

Thea bit down on her lip. “Maybe, uh, take a shot of the Goose Juice first; it’ll help, maybe.” Thea tried to hide the tremble in her hands. “I hope it tastes like orange; since it’s orange. But maybe it’s, like, peach? Or mango?” And now she was just hoping to distract from the present. 

Van froze, mock devastation sprinkling over her expression as she tucked a hand to her chest at the reveal that Thea drank monster. “Why have I never seen it? Do you have a mini fridge in your room or something? I feel like, so lied to right now.” Laughter bubbled between her lips as she shook her head. “Please, you do not smell like that.” Thea used way too many soaps to actually ever smell bad. The smell of her showers lingered in the apartment for hours afterwards. Was that weird to think about? Probably. But she always smelled good! Not like stinky gamer man pits. 

“I think that I’m insulting girls who play games if I try to say I’m not a gamer girl because then it’s like, am I embarrassed to be considered a gamer girl?” She paused, brushing some hair out of her face before she continued, “I should hold my gamer girl head high. You’re so right, Thea. Thank you for opening my eyes to it.” She grinned at her friend, happy that at least she’d been trying to make up other words for what Van could consider herself to be. “Not like the car—girl though, I like that. That makes sense for who I am as a person.” She gave a curt nod in Thea’s direction. “I’ll keep that one.” 

As Thea went on to explain the ugly-people society beneath the sewers, Van snorted. “Yeah, but we all know that like, the ugly people in comics usually aren’t ugly. They’re drawn with super pointy boobs and stuff and are still considered hot, but want us to think they’re ugly by saying they’re ugly, you know?” She wasn’t sure if that made sense, but she thought it did, and she figured that it would make sense to Thea. Thea seemed to always be able to parse out what she was saying; or maybe she was just… pretending she was? Van wasn’t sure, really. “You can totally ramble about X-men any time, by the way! I like to learn things I didn’t know about things I’ve read because I haven’t read those, you know? Plus, if I ever get pulled into trivia, then I at least know some things.” The smile she wore didn’t falter as she looked at Thea. Instead, it grew slightly. 

The smell that emitted from the can, or rather, the longer she did smell it, the more it seemed… less than exciting. A little scary, actually. What if this was actually battery fuel or something? “You’re right, I don’t know why I suggested it.” She looked down the can again, one eye closed so that she could get a better look at the contents of the drink. Suddenly, she was stopped by Thea, and there was a small box produced from her friend’s bag. Van stared down at it, surprised by the arrival of yet another gift. She looked back up to meet Thea’s eyes. “Dude, you didn’t have to get me something else— you already did.” She pushed the drink into Thea’s hands, exchanging for the gift box. She popped it open, surprise illuminating her features as she saw what was inside. 

“Dude, these are so cool! Did you make these?” They looked hand made which made them like, way more special than anything that was store bought. Though, Van would still love them even if they were store bought, because they came from Thea! Her cute friend! She quickly began to take out the strawberry earrings she’d been wearing prior and put on the ones that Thea had made her before depositing her others into the box. She closed the lid and shoved it into her own bag before tucking her hair behind her ears, showing off the jewelry to Thea. “Do they look cool? They feel cool.” The smile wasn’t going away anytime soon, she realized. 

Thea was rambling about the drink she held in her hands and Van grabbed onto her forearm. She didn’t feel any bit anxious which, in all, was weird for her. “These are so cool, can you show me how you made them? Maybe I can make you some and then we can have like, matching t-shirts and earrings.” She took her own drink back from Thea before smelling at it again. “The earrings are way cooler than the goose juice,” Van admitted with a small frown. She looked back up to meet her friend’s eyes, “thanks, for real— this is like, the best present ever. I don’t think I’ll ever take them off.” 

There wasn’t much Thea had done right. She’d come to Wicked’s Rest by the force of her own mistake; landed a definitely-not-legal job at a probably-illegal fight club by desperation; even meeting Van, meeting her friends—which were the only things that felt normal at all in her life—came from an accident. She shouldn’t be here. She shouldn’t be Van’s friend. It was Van’s birthday; she shouldn’t be here. Her happiness was surreal, tugging at the strands of reality and pulling her mind out of her body. She felt like someone else, watching two happy friends. She didn’t say anything about how it wasn’t a mini-fridge, but she was still renting out a room in the maybe-haunted house because she was afraid Van would get sick of her. She might have said something about how Van was right, comic artists always give women pointy boobs. Maybe she said something else about how she was happy to get Van something else; nothing about how one thing didn’t seem like enough. If she gave Van more, maybe she could feel like she’d earned their friendship. Did she switch her weight nervously? Did she laugh? Did she turn her eyes away, afraid of seeing Van’s disgust? How could she tell when everything spun? Sweat pooled in her palms and heat rushed to her cheeks. 

She cracked open her own foul can of Goose Juice and sipped it. Worse than the fear that Van wouldn’t like her present was not knowing where to put the praise. “It’s your birthday,” Thea mumbled. “And that’s… really special because it’s you. And it’s your birthday. And it’s been like, two decades, of the world spinning with you on it. So, like…” Thea braved her own anxiety and looked at her friend and her new, crude, frog earrings. “Yeah, it’s just like, clay. And you mush it and bake it and then you get that.” Thea took another long sip of the goose juice. “Do you actually like them? You’re not just saying that to…” Thea took another sip. What flavor was this? It was beyond fruit, beyond chemicals, like a laboratory Frankenstein flavor was soaked into a dish rag and rung into a can. “It’s your birthday, y’know?” Thea tried to perk up. She couldn’t tell how nice her smile looked; it hurt her cheeks, tugging up her dry lips. 

“It’s like…” The Earth wobbles; the pole goes in a circle. And every ten thousand, there’s a new north star. And right now it’s Polaris, in 12,000 years it’ll be Vega. But right now? “Um, sorta like…” And someone said the calendars should follow the solar year, and that marked one end into a beginning. And the Earth spins and has spun for years and years but right now? “It’s…” Thea shrugged. “I dunno, it’s your birthday. I want to do special things for you, ‘cause you’re my friend and I like you.” How long have people measured time? How long have they been looking up and around and tracking the sun and watching the stars and marking one solar day into the next and could they have fathomed of a RedBull-fueled, mobile anime girl collecting, kinda short, sorta sad, definitely in need of more sleep, girl named Van (not like the car)? Would they know she was Thea’s friend? Did they ever imagine today? Right now? “You should definitely take those off at some point though, I’m pretty sure that’s how you get like, diseases.” In 12,000 years, the humans looking up at their new north, would maybe understand what it was like to look at Van. It was Van’s birthday, that was all Thea wanted to say. 

And it was weird that someone gave her a bent toothbrush. Why was it bent? How do you bend a toothbrush? Why didn’t they put a goose on the can? How could it be that something was right, finally, for her? It was Van’s birthday—everything turns and changes and moves and it has been, and will be, but right now it was Van’s twenty-first birthday and it never would be exactly like this again. But wasn’t it wonderful to know that in a year, an event just like this would happen again? 

Thea linked her arm with Van’s again. “Now can we eat something? Because I’m so hungry, I could eat a person. Not that I would! Or have ever done that before!” 

#that's just the logo for skatebird sdfkjhfaskd #i love van someone get her a free pancake #i am always in awe of ci's creativity #some things are born out of ci's mind that i cannot fathom #c: van #s for shirt #writing #s2 #unsanitary tw

[ohwynne]

TIMING: Recent LOCATION: Where two roads meet in town PARTIES: Thea @notstinky and Wynne @ohwynne SUMMARY: Thea and Wynne crash their bikes into each other! Both are very stressed about it! Friendship is formed and Wynne learns about Glee. CONTENT WARNINGS: N/A

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Look out for the girl on the bike! Excuse me! I’m so sorry!” The air whipped through Thea’s hair, sending tendrils of black hair in every direction. She couldn’t see from in between the strands but prayed fast and wildly to any god that was both real and would listen to her. There was a fact about cheap bikes that she had forgotten: they were cheap. Prone to failure, her temp bike, meant for use while her beloved (accidentally stolen) green one was being repaired (after a similar incident to the one plaguing her today), had its brakes snap off. Literally, actually, and with a loud crunch, snap off. She was rushing downhill at a pace too fast to be safe. She had tried stopping with her feet only for her shoe to slip off and tumble up the street. Then she’d tried with the other one and gotten the same luck. So, she tried with her heel and instantly recoiled from the ripping pain that seared under her skin. Eventually, mathematically, and with sound reasoning to believe it, she would stop. She hoped she would.

“Look out! Shoeless girl on bike! Get off the sidewalk!” Thea yelled the best she could, but her voice was muffled by the wind and her hair flying into her mouth. Thea was what most people called a bore and what the rest called a nerd. She was the only adult who rode a bike around town in existence who actually wore a helmet (citations might have been needed for this fact but Thea certainly felt like she was the only one preoccupied with safety sometimes). This was because her dad told her to do it once upon a time and she had never forgotten. The most rebellious thing she’d done was forgo the knee and elbow pads. 

No one would ever laugh at her again for wearing a helmet. As Thea flew through the air, like a frisbee at a dog show waiting to be caught, her helmet saved her from getting some very unflattering grass in her hair. A victory, in her books. What wasn’t a victory was the scene: her bike crunched up, tire spinning in the air, and the thing she had crashed into. The person, with their own bike. “Oh my god,” Thea looked up. She’d bit her lip on the way down and scraped up her palms and knees; she was bleeding and it stung but wasn’t anything she couldn’t recover from. “Are you okay?” She asked the other party, wobbling up to her feet. 

—

A certain freedom came with having a bike. It was faster than walking, didn’t require Sully being available to carpool with them and was not as irregular as the bus. Wynne liked biking, even if it was more stressful in Wicked’s Rest than it had been back home. There, days that they’d gone biking had been few and far between, but they had happened. Their parents and brother and Wynne would take some food and cycle around the lake, have a nice meal and return home. It was one of the few ways they’d get away from the estate’s grounds and always something to look forward to.

But here, in town, there were cars and mopeds and all other kinds of things to be mindful of. Like other cyclists rushing down hills, in their direction. This was a bad combination: Wynne was lost in thought, head stuck on an annoying song that played constantly at work and mulling over what their brother might be up to and then there was the other, an object that would not be stopped. The crash brought them back to earth, in literal and physical sense: their body slammed against the concrete sideways, their bike stuck between their legs. They felt the bruise form on their knee already.

Their head spun for a moment the same way the wheel did, neither bike nor person moving forward. Wynne felt dazed, reached a hand up to their head (they got a vague look at their scraped palm and saw more blood when their fingers pulled back). “Ouch.” They pressed up, one leg still awkwardly stuck to the ground. “I – yeah.” They were in pain, and they weren’t sure what had happened, but they weren’t sure what other answer to give to that question. “Can you help with my bike? They wanted to sit, but the thing was stuck on and between them. “What happened?”

—

“Yes, yes, oh my god…” Thea scrambled to her victim’s sides The bike was stuck between their legs and it would take some twisting and lifting to pull it free. Thea hoped that with her help keeping the bike from crushing their legs, they could escape without further damage. She offered her hand out. “Are you sure you’re okay?” She asked again, she didn’t want to seem doubtful but she was staring at a bleeding palm to mirror her own scratched one. “Um, well, my brakes stopped working and then I couldn’t stop and I went right into you and…” Thea snapped her helmet off her head and threw it aside, surveying the other person and their bikes. Both of them were in need of repair. Thea really couldn’t afford her own bike repairs let alone someone else’s. “This is my fault,” she said. “I’m so sorry.” She swiped at the dibble of blood escaping the small cut under her lip. 

“I will pay for everything,” Thea offered quickly, before anything else could be said about it. “I mean it! I totally messed up here and I probably damaged your bike and also you, physically, and maybe even emotionally, but uh, okay….if you need therapy after this I don’t think I can afford that so maybe we can do yoga in the park? That’s free.” 

—

With the other’s hand now firmly in their grip, Wynne managed to push themself over the ground, from under the bike. Getting in a sitting position, they stared down at their jeans, at the hole on their knee and the blood slowly pooling underneath the ruined fabric. They weren’t scared of blood, weren’t scared of bleeding this little, but they still felt somewhat like crying. As if the smack on the road had scrambled their nervous system. “Yes, yes, I’m okay,” they said, pulling their leg closer to them. They had seen and felt worse than this. Wynne wasn’t going to sob over falling off their bike. Right? “It’s, no, I should have been paying more attention, you can’t help it if the brakes break. I was off in my own world, so —” They stopped staring at their bike and looked at the other. “It’s on both of us, right?” Wynne had never been very good at blaming others.

The other’s offer to pay for everything made Wynne realize that this damage had to be fixed and that included money. They hated this economy! Why couldn’t such favors be done in return for something else? They stared at their bike again, wondering if they were handy enough to fix it themself. (They were not.) “No, no, I couldn’t ask that of you,” they said, head shaking, watching the other’s bruised lip. This wasn’t some rude person who had hurt them on purpose “That’s not fair, okay? But maybe we can find a bike shop together, and maybe we should try and find some band-aids, right?” Since life had slowed down and Wynne didn’t feel like were constantly on the run, they didn’t carry everything a person could possibly need any more. “Are you okay? Your lip …”

—

Thea wasn’t sure of a lot of things: she didn’t entirely understand taxes and more than once she purchased yogurt thinking she could become the sort of person that ate yogurt and then the yogurt would go bad and she’d have to throw it out. She was sure, however, that most things were her fault: climate change (on account of all the wasted yogurt), world hunger (because of the yogurt again), and this bike accident (not because of the yogurt). Maybe this person was trying to appease her, trying to soothe the anxiety that often radiated from her like the electric buzz of an old light bulb. Maybe they were a kind person who didn’t deserve to be rammed into with a bike. Regardless, nothing worked to soothe Thea’s guilt for existing. Sorry, she wanted to say, if only she had decided to stay indoors and never go out anywhere and never do anything. Thea smiled softly, “that doesn’t change the fact that I’m the one at fault. If I hit a um…like a lamb or something…that’d totally be my fault. Not that you’re a lamb! I don’t mean that.” Thea shook her head violently, trying to reject her own awkward wording. “You’re more like a, uh, like a baby. Like what if I hit a baby? I mean, you’re not a baby—you look like a young adult—but what if I hit a baby?” The thought made her shudder. 

“Not asking,” Thea squeaked. “I’m giving! If you don’t take it I’m going to be haunted by this moment and it’s going to seriously decrease my quality of sleep.” Which already wasn’t very good and, in fact, this moment would still linger in her mind anyway. “Okay,” she mumbled, she reached down and picked up the stranger’s bike; hers was probably a lost cause. “Are you good to walk? I think there’s a shop just down the…” Thea paused, raising a hand up to her lips. Red blood painted the edges of her fingers as her eyes trailed down. “And your knee,” she winced. “Are you okay?” 

—

As the other stumbled over her words, Wynne blinked at them until looking back at their knee. The comparison to a lamb hit home and though there was no way the stranger could possibly know what kind of history they had with lambs and being compared to one, it still didn’t help their already frazzled state of mind. Again, they didn’t blame her: they just felt a little off because of it. “But you didn’t hit a lamb or a baby, you just hit me, and I’m okay. It’s a scratch, it will heal!” It would heal. This was nothing, this blood was nothing. They fought against their trembling lip. “And the bike is just a bike, right?” Material possessions were not the most important thing to Wynne, to whom life – and their continued presence in it – mattered most of all.

The other made it hard to reject her offer, if only because Wynne didn’t want to be responsible for ruining some else’s quality of sleep. That would seriously come to haunt them in return. “Oh. Oh, well, maybe we can see when we get to the shop, okay? It was an accident. And I wasn’t paying attention.” They needed to start paying attention. They watched the other pick up their bike and managed to push themself off the ground, despite really wanting to curl down there and just take a nap. Wynne watched the blood on the other’s face, and then the blood trickling down their leg now that gravity was more in play again. “Yes. A scratch. We will get a bandaid. And something cold for your lip. Okay? Should we get … your bike out of the road?” Just so not more people would get into accidents.

—

“But what if,” Thea argued, as if there was any real logic to it. It was always the what if’s that haunted her. What if she had hit a baby? What if she hit a baby and then the mother came out of the bushes and honked at her like the one time she got too close to a gosling (not the actor; she wished)? “The point isn’t that it heals…” Thea frowned. “It still happened. You still got hurt; that still matters and I still…” she swallowed. This person was being graceful, giving her the space to let it go. If she pushed, like putting something back into a box that was too small for it, she’d rip the edges of politeness. Thea squeezed the handlebars of the stranger’s bike. “Sorry, yeah…” She forced a smile. “You’ll heal up like it’s nothing; it’ll be okay.” But it wouldn’t, it wasn’t. The body fought to survive but the mind didn’t heal like a wound. If the stranger ever flinched the next time a bike approached too quickly, Thea would know the truth of the matter: it wouldn’t heal. Irrevocably, she has changed someone’s life for the worst. It might just have been a new instinct they gained, but wouldn’t it have been better if nothing happened at all? If Thea was better? Smarter? Kinder? Thea’s grip tightened until her knuckles turned white and her palms ached. “The bike is just a bike, yeah.”

“Huh? My bike?” Thea’s attention snapped to her mangled temporary bike— the cursed thing, the ruiner of days, the scrapper of knees. “Right, yeah.” She seethed; the damn thing and her damned stupidity. Thea set down the stranger’s bike gently, dragging hers off the street. Stupid. Horrible. Useless. Her muscles tightened and her nostrils flared. A small growl escaped her lips as she gripped her bike and spun, throwing it as far as she could. She watched it sail through the air, jaw aching and fingers twitching. As soon as the bike disappeared behind a line of bushes, her body relaxed with only a mild ache in the places a transformation threatened under her skin. “Yep!” She turned to the stranger with a cherry expression. “Let’s go now!” She picked up their bike again. “I’m Thea, by the way.” She held out her hand. “Normally I don’t crash into people.” 

—

What if was a very valid question and concern, in every situation ever imaginable. Wynne couldn’t begin to think of it though, evading the what-ifs in their life as if they were marked-off areas, afraid of getting too close to the truth with their doom-thoughts. (What if leaving the commune had killed everyone? What if they were coming for them? What if?) “It didn’t happen, though. It was just me. And I will be fine. It is okay.” Worse things had happened than a split knee. Wynne wanted to live in a world where this was the worst thing that had happened to them in this past year. Where a scratched knee was worth having a mental breakdown over. But they had learned a thing or two about composure back at home, where every faltered step could be taken as a sign of doubt or failure. “Please don’t worry too much, okay? I will worry if you do, and then we will never stop worrying. And I would like to not worry for a day.” They tried to smile. 

And then the other picked up her bike, as if it weighed nothing at all. Wynne didn’t fight to keep their mouth from falling open a little. There was a growl, and then a show of strength that they hadn’t sought after the other. Fair enough. Sometimes people were just very strong. Right? Their mouth remained somewhat agape, though, as they heard the bike crush a few bush branches. “Oh wow, Thea.” They were in awe, not afraid or put off — but just very much impressed. “Are you sure —” She had seemed very certain, actually, when she’d thrown the bike through the air. “I’m Wynne. I also don’t tend to get crashed into.” They shook her hand and gave another smile. “Good to meet ya.”

—

Telling Thea not to worry was a lot like telling a dog not to stare at a passing bunny. Maybe it was possible after some training and a lot of treats, but for right now, Thea was going to worry. She laughed nervously. “Yeah! Okay! No worrying!” Much like a dog would dream that night, paws twitching, imagining a world where they chased that bunny down, Thea would sleep imagining the countless worlds where Wynne was more seriously injured and one world where there was a test she had forgotten to study for, just because that one often haunted her despite its irrelevance. 

“I feel really sore,” Thea confessed, rubbing her arms. She expected her muscles to ache but it was more like her bones did. Seeing Wynne’s awe instantly embarrassed her. “Maybe I shouldn’t have thrown it.” What if she hit someone? More worlds to dream about in the night. “It’s nice to meet you too!” She perked up, pushing Wynne’s bike down the sidewalk. “Do you ride around here often? I don’t think I’ve seen you here before. Um, but I do usually commute at weird hours. I’m not blessed with a Dolly Parton nine-to-five. Um, but I guess, like, in the song—um, and the movie—it was a shitty job anyway…” Thea laughed nervously again. In the disjointed year of travel and monthly carnage, she felt like she’d forgotten how conversations went. “Do you–uh–like Dolly Parton?”

—

Asking someone not to worry was an impossible request, Wynne knew that distantly, and still they had meant it fully. They didn’t want to cause worry in others, not the concern-type but not this kind, either. This sort of distress. As the other laughed nervously and exclaimed that she wouldn’t worry, they doubted if that was true, but they also weren’t sure what they could do. Wynne would go over this interaction themself, reevaluate their response and their own faults. Maybe that was human existence. “I’m sorry you feel sore. Maybe the shop has something for the pain too?”

They smiled at the returned sentiment, glad to have something to hold onto in this confusing interaction. A swap of names, a nice to meet you, nice to meet you too. Some customs didn’t die, even when bikes crashed into each other. “Oh, yes, when I go to or from my work. I don’t always bike, though, sometimes a friend gives me a ride. I …” They frown. “Don’t know what a Dolly Parton is, but I do work regular hours. Sometimes earlier, though, like from six-to-three? Or until late. I work at a Latte to Love!” Maybe that was a detail best omitted when meeting strangers, but Wynne didn’t think Thea was that bad. Maybe a bit frazzled, but so were they. “Sorry to hear your job is shitty. What do you do?”

—

Thea shook her head; she wasn’t sure if bike shops offered anything for pain but even if they did, her pain wasn’t the sort that could be solved with an Advil. “I’m alright.” She swallowed. “I’ll be alright.” If she said it enough times, it made it true. As evidenced by her daily morning mantra: I am normal and not stinky. Both things were totally true. “You don’t know who Dolly Parton is?” Thea froze, just a few steps from the fated bike shop. “You don’t…” She tried to make it make sense. Maybe she was being gatekeepy—never mind that Dolly Parton was a country legend, maybe Wynne also didn’t know Patsy Cline, Johnny Cash, Loretta Lynn, Willie Nelson, etc. etc. Maybe country music just wasn't for them; it wasn’t for most people. Thea had a broad music taste, which was a kinder way of saying she had no standards. But even if you didn’t like country music, you knew Dolly Parton. Everyone knew Dolly Parton. “Jolene, Jolene, I’m beggin’ of you please don’t take my man.” She stared at them, signing off-key. “Please don’t take him just because you can.” 

Thea threw her hands up into the air, letting the bike fall before she frantically caught it again. “It’s Dolly!” she exclaimed. “Dolly! She’s got big boobs! Blonde hair? Everyone loves Dolly. I mean, maybe she’s secretly evil—I heard Jenna Ortega spits in peoples’ coffee…” Thea held up her hand. “Don’t ask; it’s a long story. I’m working on bringing the spit mafia down. It all starts with Casey. Anyway, don’t ask.” She sucked in a breath. “But Dolly? The Dolly Parton? Are you going to say you don’t know Led Zeppelin or Fleetwood Mac or Paramore?” Despite the venerated status of both Led Zeppelin and Fleetwood Mac, Thea would’ve been more offended if Wynne didn’t know Paramore, which was venerated in her heart. “Dolly Part—Oh sorry, I work as a janitor, hence the shitty, and I love a Latte to Love, great coffee.” She blinked. “Dolly Parton!” 

—

They blinked at the other as she went on and on about Dolly, who Wynne was apparently seriously supposed to know. They vowed to themself to remember the name, so they could look this blonde, big-breasted woman up and listen to these songs. For now, though, their face just flushed and something trembled inside them out of embarrassment. It was all a little much! Falling off their bike, their bike being damaged, their body hurting and now, once more, falling short when it came to pop culture. “I don’t know her, I don’t … I know a blonde woman with big breasts, but she’s called Winifred, and I don’t think she makes music.” Winifred was a woman from back home, so she was definitely not the same person. “And I don’t know that song, nor Jenna Ortega, but that’s really rude! I never spit in people’s coffee and I make a lot of coffees for a lot of people. I also don’t know a Casey?” 

But Thea mentioned something that they did know, so they decided to latch onto that. “I know Fleetwood Mac! With Stevie Nicks? Of that song, Silver Springs.” Ariadne had told them all about it, playing the song for them and then a video of it too. Wynne had thought it very powerful. “I love their song ‘You make loving fun’.” That one reminded them of Ariadne most, whereas Landslide made them indescribably sad. They felt less inclined to cry now that they had something to say about something they knew. That they didn’t know those other bands (or artists?) was omitted. “I will look up Dolly! Okay? I just don’t know a lot of music.” They frowned. “Because I’m Amish. Or well, was Amish. Now I’m a barista.”

—

Thea felt stupid again, she was feeling that a lot around Wynne. Of course it was stupid to insult someone for not knowing who Dolly Parton was when they were Amish. That was like growing up in a cult, or something (Thea didn’t know, she didn’t know much about the Amish except for what existed in Weird Al’s “Amish Paradise”). Although, a part of her mind did consider that even the Amish would know who Dolly Parton was. “I’m so sorry,” she squeaked, her cheeks bursting with crimson. “Y-you know Fleetwood Mac?” But not Dolly Parton? Thea pushed the doors of the bike shop open and ushered them inside, pulling the back along with them. “Silver Springs is kinda deep cut--well, not that deep, but usually people bring up ‘Songbird’ or ‘Landslide’ or ‘Dreams’ or something.” Thea considered what sort of person would know only of Fleetwood Mac and nothing else. At least it was a good band to know about. “‘You Make Loving Fun’?” Thea blinked. Something was going on here, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. “My favorite is ‘Rhiannon’--it makes me feel like the cool girl monologue in Gone Girl. You know, Santana Lopez sang ‘Songbird’ on Glee and…” Thea trailed off, clearing her throat. “Actually, it’s probably better if you never learn what Glee is.” 

Thea leaned Wynne’s mangled bike up against the counter. “I’m sorry about the--the Dolly thing.” Thea stuck her hand out again. “Friends?” She smiled. “No hard, Amish feelings? I think you’re really cool and--” I need more friends. “--I’d like to be your friend. So, friends?”

—

“No, it’s okay! You couldn’t know! I don’t look Amish.” Because they weren’t Amish. Some of their dresses did look similar to the ones they’d worn at home, though, but they’d never worn those white caps. Those looked strange. “Silver Springs is my girlfriend’s favorite song. But I love those others as well. Landslide is very sad, though, right?” Wynne smiled at the mention of Rhiannon. “I love that one also! It’s about a Welsh witch. I’m also –” They stopped themself, there. The Amish weren’t Welsh, right? “Um, really fond of Songbird. I don’t know what Gone Girl is? Is it a movie?” Another thing to Google. Just like Glee. “Oh. Is Glee not good? Even if there’s Fleetwood Mac on it?” They’d have to ask Ariadne about that one too. 

Wynne shook their head again. “It’s okay! Really. No hard feelings, Amish or otherwise. And I think you’re very cool too.” They shook the other’s hand. “Friends.”

#thea. #writing. #wynne learns about glee.

[ironheartedfae]

@notstinky replied to your post “[pm] [user deletes the following message in a...”:

[pm] Yep! Haha. My caps-lock was on! Silly me! Thanks Ren! Oh, like, btw, Where do you live? I want to send you flowers. Haha :)

​[pm] Well that is good that you have figured it out. Typing is not always easy. You do not need to thank me. [...............]

Why would you send flowers?

#private; #with; thea

[magmahearts]

@notstinky from here:

Best superhero team and why?

The X-Men, full stop. I mean, they've got variety like no other! A guy with a million eyes? A short, feral old man with claws? Kitty Pryde? Nobody else comes close! And the Avengers and Justice League are, like, diet cops, so fuck them! The Teen Teams are all cool, though. Young Justice, Champions, Young Avengers, Teen Titans... They can stay.

#notstinky #thea: superhero team #public

[honeysmokedham]

TIMING: August 3rd, 2023 PARTIES: Nora @honeysmokedham & Thea @notstinky LOCATION: The Crypt of Annalise Bellowmore SUMMARY: Thea decides Nora NEEDS to have a clean crypt and she's going to make it happen. Nora's just trying to be okay. CONTENT WARNINGS: None!

The thing about chapels was that they didn’t have a doorbell. Thea felt wrong inviting herself inside, but she justified it by thinking of the chapel as an apartment lobby and Nora’s apartment was just down a very narrow set of stairs. She dragged her clothing rack down the stairs, tucking the stack of hangers under one arm and her broom under the other. The bow she had put on the rack so the present appeared more dressed up, had fallen off in the chapel somewhere. It was too late to go back for it. “Nora?” She called out. “Nora? Is that…is someone crying?” It was probably some recording Nora had to add to the atmosphere but Thea had to admit, the crypt had great acoustics. Why wasn’t Nora hosting karaoke nights down here? 

Nora was more paint than human, bear, whatever she was supposed to identify as, at this point. Her crypt has steadily been growing into a collection of stolen art supplies, and now, after her return from the mines, she had thrown herself into the art of creation. The only time such an act was more valuable than its sister, destruction, was when her brush touched canvas and the world stopped to exist. The world didn’t stop existing. The clattering sound of metal on stone steps brought Nora to an attention that not even the crying Munch doll could have. “Thea?” She had invited the other over, but Nora wasn’t used to people accepting invites to her crypt. This was her first official visitor. Nora extracted herself from her place in front of the canvas and moved through the empty space to the door. Babadook following close on her heels. “I told you not to buy anything.” It was a poor thanks for a gift that was so thoughtful. “Thanks.” Nora helped, tried to help with the rack and getting it into the main part of the crypt since Thea had her hands full. “Welcome to my crypt.” It was really one large room, everything in view once you got to the main area. “This is Babadook,” Nora nodded a chin to her dog. “Then Munch is the one crying, over there.” She pointed. “He’s a sad clown. I think its his thing to cry.”

Thea wanted to be polite. She didn’t say that Nora’s crypt-house smelled like dirt, dust, mold and paint— like the wet rotting corpse of an artist had crawled into the stone. She didn’t say the cobwebs were unsightly or that she didn’t exactly think it was safe for Nora’s horrifying cosplay dog to be in a space with snakes and spiders. As she did with everything else in her life, Thea focused on the positives. It was cool down here despite the summer heat and all the spiders must have been fun to watch crawl around. It was a unique place to live and, certainly, very Nora. “Hello, Babadook— we met last time, actually. I’m happy to see him in his costume again.” When the rack was settled, Thea busied herself with setting the hangers up for Nora to use, hoping that her clothes would get out of the pile on the ground and somewhere clean. She thought about the scene from Mary Poppins during ‘A Spoonful Of Sugar’ where Julie Andrews snaps and all the clothes and mess goes back into place. When she snapped, the best she got was a spider shifting on one of its many hairy legs on a web that was a little too close to her face. Thea wasn’t even going to say anything about the floating clown doll, that was, in fact, the source of the crying. 

“Were you painting, Nora?” Thea asked, picking up her broom. She had a lot of work to do— the crypt was more dirt than stone. And she wasn’t going to ask about the floating clown doll. “I am a little confused about what you do with the paint smells.” She was not confused, one sniff to the air told her exactly what Nora did with the paint smells. She was not going to ask about the crying, floating clown doll. “It’s not entirely healthy to breathe them in all the time.” She was not going to ask about the doll. “I also wonder about what you do with food… do you have a fridge or…” She wasn’t going to do it. She wasn’t going to— “How are you doing that?” She pointed at the floating clown doll, asking. “Is it on strings? Does it have a speaker? It’s moving like it’s actually floating. Is it magnets? It’s magnets, isn’t it?” 

"Oh right." Last time. Nora knew there had been a last time. Because it had been the first time Thea and she had hung out. It had been the start of their friendship, and the day that Thea had become damned for her association with Nora. Because last time was before Debbie. Last time had been before the phantom memory of the pressure it took to plunge her knife into Debbie's skull haunted her hand. Nora blinked, at the realization that last time had been a lifetime ago. Suddenly a new guilt was weighing her down. Why hadn't she been checking on Thea. Why hadn't she been apologizing to the girl who hadn't even wanted to break into a supermarket that day? Why was she letting that same innocent Thea, come into her crypt and clean it. Because Nora had already proven that she was a black hole, taking and taking, and Thea had already proven that she was better. Nora stood there, a statue as she tried to find the words. How've you've been since Debbie? Are you okay? Are we okay? Please don't clean. Please just be here as my friend. 

But words had never been her friend, and each imagined sentence never made it past the lump in her throat. 

And Thea was talking. Wonderful, kind, thoughtful Thea didn't question the black hole consuming everything she was giving without returning anything. Thea didn't stop and ask why she was carrying the conversation along with the burden of friendship. Nora swallowed back the lump in her throat and forced he voice to croak out a "Yeah.' She had been painting. It was a self-portrait of crystals consuming Nora's body, a successor to Goya's Saturn Devouring His Son. Because just like Goya, a madness overtook her in this art. An escape from the truth. 

"I don't have any ventilation." Nora kept forcing the words past the lump, begging it to disappear back inside her. Let her deal with it later. Let Thea be free from this extra burden. "No. Maybe I should get a fan." But wouldn't the fan only flow it around the crypt? It wasn't like the paint fumes would escape. "I don't have a fridge. I don't normally eat here." Then Thea was pointing at Munch, who was still sobbing. The crying clown doll was perfect for him. How Sofie hadn't noticed that there was a ghost in there was beyond her. "It's possessed. We talked about it. You can touch him if you want, but he'll punch you." 

Microplumes of dust flew up under Thea’s rocking broom. Her gaze was fixed on the magnetic clown doll. Possessed, Nora kept saying, as if it was a state of being that made sense for a doll. Thea was possessed, in the metaphorical— the only way that word could be used and mean something. Grief possessed her, memories haunted her, her body was hollowed out like the sort of fake rock her father put their spare set of keys in, thinking no one would ever look inside. Sometimes, even Thea lost that rock in the sea of real ones. She’d have to pick each of them up and shaking, waiting until she heard a ratting. No one had stopped shaking Thea. Thea was possessed, the doll was just a trick of science. Thea approached the doll. 

Thea was always a curious person, as a child, if a question struck her in the night, she couldn’t sleep until it was answered. The world was a massive, horrifying jumble of mysteries and questions; if she understood it just a little, just enough, nothing was scary anymore. Everything became normal. She ran her hands along the side, hoping she’d feel the magnetic pull on her bracelet and be down with her questions. Nothing. She tried underneath. Nothing. She tried on top. Nothing. Behind. Nothing. Thea poked it. The doll’s hand snapped out and punched her in the nose and Thea stumbled back; it wasn’t that the doll was a particularly heavy hitter, it was some mixture of confusion, fear, and the embarrassment of being punched by a floating clown doll. When she spun, regaining her footing, she opened her eyes to find Nora’s self-portrait. Thea shrieked; fear pulsed off of her in heavy waves. 

Thea snapped her hands over her mouth. “Sorry, it, um…” She swallowed, lowering her hands. “It’s a very visceral painting. It, um, for a moment…I really thought that was you. It felt like you were really…” Thea’s gaze dropped to it. “….consumed by crystals.” She turned to the doll, still floating, still a clown. “H-how did you program it to punch me? How did…” Thea turned around again. “Nora, this…” she gestured around. “…isn’t normal, is it?”  

It was weird seeing Thea come into her home with the intent of cleaning it. As if it was something Nora should want. It made Nora examine her living space with new eyes. There had been a joy in the reclamation of herself, and space, with the lack of care. A direct pull into doing the opposite of everything she’d been told to do her whole life. Keep herself clean. Keep herself presentable. Become approachable. Now her personal hygiene, the state of her home, everything about her had become a rebellious statement against that. But Thea cared. Thea cared enough to bring a broom and a clothing rack and clean up a place she’d never considered worth cleaning before. 

Luckily Thea became distracted by Munch. With Thea bothering the doll instead of sweeping, Nora got to forget the uncomfortable feeling that came with watching the back and forth of the broom. As if the broom was more than just a broom, but what the broom stood for was something she couldn’t put her finger on. Nora blinked once. Twice. Three times as Thea moved her hand around Munch until Munch punched her. Right in the nose. “Brutal.” Nora mumbled. “Munch stop, she’s a fucking guest. You can’t just go around fucking punching people.” The ghost was shouting, the ghost was in a temper. Munch was always in a temper. Nora suspected his temper was how he became a ghost in the first place. 

Thea was screaming and Nora was feasting. A tasty little snack. A treat for Nora. She walked over to stand next to Thea, tilting her head at her unfinished portrait and trying to imagine how Thea saw it. “Are you sure it wasn’t being punched by a ghost that scared you?” Nora questioned, but Thea still didn’t believe in ghosts. “I didn’t program Munch to do anything.” The sad clown ghost had flown off to a different part of the crypt to cry, and Nora kept staring at the self-portrait parsing through what Thea had said about it. The crystals had consumed her. “It was me.” Nora agreed finally. It was still the me she wanted to be. “You know those weird crystals that sprouted all around town?” Nora gestured to one that had popped up in her crypt. A large space was left around it. “If you touch it, that’s what happens. You receive the “blessing” and you become a crystal.”

The world spun and Thea stood unmoving— left-behind. The first time she saw the grainy footage of her bones shattering and fusing together into the hulking frame of a wolf monster, she’d felt much of the same. It wasn’t a new feeling then; every time a ‘bad day’ turned to days and even opening her curtains felt like too much of a chore, time stretched to swallow her. It wasn’t a new feeling now. The only thing that tethered her to reality was Nora, whose contorted face in the painting knotted Thea’s stomach with concern. Nora was hard to read and her painted face was no different; it was the words that Thea clung to. There was no blessing in the world that involved the transformation of the body into other: not a wolf, not a crystal. Thea knew that Nora didn’t adhere to the conventions of normal like she did, nor did Nora seem to find comfort in the idea, but she did understand transformation. “Did it hurt?” She asked, turning to face Nora. “When I…” Thea gulped. She glanced over at Munch, the magnetic programmable clown doll that was not possessed, because ghosts didn’t exist. Her nose throbbed. She glanced around her: all the dust and cobwebs and gray stonework. Finally, she looked back at the painting and into the crystals that couldn’t have literally consumed Nora, because crystals didn’t do that. Well, if they were going to talk nonsense, what did it matter? 

“When I transform, my bones snap and my skin stretches and—I don’t really remember it much, mostly I just feel it after, everything hurts and sometimes I just lay down for a few hours waiting for my legs to feel like legs again but—it’s like…” Thea swallowed, searching Nora’s impassive face for understanding. “It feels wrong. When I wake up… My body feels wrong. It feels like something bad happened to me and everything feels wrong. I don’t feel like me anymore, it feels like someone else crawled inside and shook everything up. And just when I start to feel like me again, it happens all over.” Thea pointed at the painting; her grip tightened on the broom’s handle. “W-was that how it felt for you?” 

A pause in time to consider the question. Did it hurt? “Yes.” Physically Nora had thought she was dying. She had ripped flesh off her face to reveal crystal underneath. Her body had torn in new ways as the crystals popped through her flesh. It had been brutal and drawn out. Answering the question, did it hurt, wasn’t what it took time to consider. What Nora considered was it didn’t hurt enough to stop. If her mind would remain her own she would touch the crystals everyday for the rest of her life to become that, become her, the portrait on her easel. Or maybe the real pain was emotional. Being given the gift of your dreams with a burden attached to it, too heavy to accept. A carrot dangled in front of her face by a master who wanted a different beast. “It hurt.” Could three words encompass the experience? Could they tie the turmoil up in a nice bow, and offer it as a shared experience? Were words that powerful?

Nora might have gotten lost there, in her own thoughts, had she not offered a shocking new turn of conversation. When I transform. The hair raised along Nora’s arms at the confession. Thea was a shifter? There had always been something animalistic about her scent, but Nora had ignored it. Part of Thea’s job, or something. She was sensitive about her smell, there had never been a reason to ask, but the picture was coming into focus. “You’re a shifter.” There was nothing in Nora’s voice. No judgment. No acceptance. Just the plain neutrality that her monotone always offered. “When the crystals transformed me it was long. I felt like I was dying.” Or had that only been the banshee’s lie that put the thought in her head? “When I turn into a bear, it’s a moment. My body breaks and remakes. Then I’m me again. As a bear.” Nora blinked as she digested the words Thea had offered. “You don’t-” She paused, trying to make sure she had this right. “You make it sound like you don’t remember when you’re shifted? What do you change to?”

“Shifter?” Thea felt the word in her mouth, the weight of each syllable and the curve of her tongue around the sounds. The word was new for her; she assumed--if she was going to assume she was anything--that she was a werewolf. It made sense to her, based on the grainy footage of her sleepwalking camera. Like most things regarding her issue, she didn’t really think about it. “I’m not a shifter,” she swallowed, scratching her forehead, leaving behind pink streaks across her skin. “I’m not a--I’m me. I’m not anything. I’m just me. I’m a normal girl. I’m a normal girl with a little problem.” The broom trembled in her grip, her fingers tight against the plastic rod. “B-bear?” Thea blinked. “Bear?” She asked again, as if the answer could change. She wasn’t a bear, her grainy recorded body was too slim and her mouth too dog-like. She knew there were big cats, like Felix, and now bears? Why had she gotten a wolf? The broom snapped in her hands. “D-do you eat people? Does the bear eat people?” 

The conversation about crystals seemed far off. She didn’t know what crystals had to do with Nora--what they had to do with the bear. She wanted to ask how different each had felt; if the crystals hurt but made her whole again or if it was just the bear that did that. Thea couldn’t get anything out but a series of hiccups and gasps. “I don’t remember,” she croaked. “Only a little. Sometimes. But I know…I know because…” Her trembling body didn’t care for the breathing exercises she attempted to employ; in, out, hold, in, out, none of it mattered. Her throat tightened. “...hair between my teeth and blood under my nails and I feel full. Inside. I feel full.” Thea sucked in a quivering breath. “It happens with the moon. I don’t know what it is. I’m normal, I’m a normal girl. It just--with the moon.”

With each stuttering word, and trembling finger Thea seemed to crumble. A shell of anxiety and emotion. Fear radiated off her friend, mixing with denial and apprehension. The broom snapped. A similar sound to her bones, their bones during shifting. Nora blinked at Thea, puzzling through the fractured broken sentences that had yet to shift into something complete. They lay wounded and open between the two of them while Nora waited for their transformation to complete. With each additional statement from Thea a form began to shape and Nora began to understand. Compassion, love or something of the like bloomed over Nora as she saw her friend painted in a new light before her. A girl alone and scared in a world that no longer made sense. A story she thought might be familiar to many of the werewolves she’d met, but they would have to know other werewolves to know it was familiar. With each panicked and hurt word, Nora felt herself become calmer and more resolved. How could she be angry about crystals and the mines in the face of her friend’s turmoil?

Nora stepped forward to her friend who just confessed to have eaten people. To her friend who didn’t want to be stinky. To her friend that had come over to clean Nora’s place because she wanted to. To her friend that had once told her she would die on the hill that nothing is a lost cause. Nora’s hand reached out, gently placing it on Thea’s arm. “You’re just Thea.” Nora confirmed. Because what else did you tell your friend who could turn into a wolf and ate people, but couldn’t remember it. “Normal can be different things. Normal can be turning into a bear or a wolf. Normal can be what we make it.” When Nora had been alone, she wished there had been someone else like her. Someone who ate fear and turned into a bear and could show her what her normal was supposed to be. Nora wasn’t a wolf, but she could make sure her friend knew she wasn’t alone. “You can be normal and the wolf. Just like I’m normal and the bear. We’re just us. You know?”

Thea whimpered, the sound caught in her throat and left a watery sob. Tears stung at the edges of her red eyes and when Nora touched her, the dam broke and they rained down her face. All her life she had wanted to be normal. She was too poor to be like the other girls in her school, her shoes had holes in them and her clothes came down from her older cousins. She was too smart to be average in class, which hadn’t felt like a curse until every hand she raised threw a series of daggers into her back and whispers burning her ears. She liked girls too much to join in on conversations about boy bands and movie star heartthrobs. No matter what she did, she was different. She was born different. Normal could be what they made it; Nora made it sound easy and Thea wanted to believe her. “C-can I hug you?” She sniffled. The second the affirmative left Nora’s lips, Thea threw her arms around her friend and held her tightly. 

She breathed in her scent of dust and mold; felt the scratchy fabric of her clothes with dubious laundry schedule; and felt more at home holding Nora than she’d felt under any roof. “You’re a good friend,” Thea whispered into her hair. “I’m sorry I tried to clean your crypt; it’s just you and I like you and I don’t want to clean you up and turn you into something else.” She’d only been trying to take care of her a little but truly, through the fog of her lies, she’d been hoping to make Nora a little more normal and she was sorry for that. “We’re just us,” she repeated, “we’re just us.”

They were a bear and a wolf and somewhere behind them a floating crying clown doll that was definitely possessed, and that was okay. That could be normal. It was only the two of them and their life and it was normal. 

#chatzy #chatzy: thea #mtv crypts

[chasseurdeloup]

[pm] Hello Mr. Animal Control Officer man. I found your blog because I searched for it. I was wondering if you knew of any heavy duty indestructible giant cages I could buy? Maybe something that can be opened on the inside by a human if a human were to be inside of it somehow? THIS IS NOT FOR WEIRD REASONS. I have totally normal reasons for this. Thanks in advance! - Thea

[pm] Hi Thea. I usually go by Kaden instead of Mr. Animal Control Officer man, for the record. Anyway, I don't think there's such a thing as an indestructible cage. Most things are some kind of destructible.

You don't plan on locking someone up in one, do you? Cause it sort of sounds like you do. That or you're trying to hide a really big animal. Want to tell me a little more about what's going on?

#answered #notstinky #c: thea

[recoveringdreamer]

@notstinky from here:

It's okay to admit it, Felix. It's 2023. Soon it'll be 2024! People have really come around on furries!!!! I promise!

​I don't think there's anything wrong with furries! I'm just not one.

#notstinky #thea: fursuit #public

[letsbenditlikebennett]

TIMING: Before Cass gave Thea that haircut. PARTIES: @notstinky & @letsbenditlikebennett SUMMARY: Alex last minute texts the Allgoods group chat to see if anyone wants to join her for a picnic. Thea is the only one who joins and the two attempt to have a picnic.

Thea knew it was a bad idea to make a southern style bacon and tomato pie for a picnic. Which was why she had also made a peach galette and salmon salad. Thea wanted to impress and there wasn’t much she could do in that department: she wasn’t particularly funny, her intelligence was overshadowed by her naïveté and sometimes talking to people made her so anxious, she didn’t talk at all. She was, however, a decent cook-- not a chef by any fancy standards but someone who enjoyed the practice and was good at following instructions just as much as she was willing to do tedious work. By the time she was done, she had enough for a picnic of her own and she was also a few minutes late. She didn’t bother to check her phone, rushing to the common on her bike as fast as she could. She carried the bike and her basket up a small hill, heaving when she found… no one. Thea blinked. This was the spot, wasn’t it? This was the time they were supposed to meet, wasn’t it? 

When a figure approached, Thea squinted, holding up her basket. “Um, were you here for the picnic too?” Had it been canceled? Surely she wasn’t that late.    

—

Ever since finding out about the mushrooms, Alex had been a little uneasy about where she stood in most of her relationships. Obviously, everything with Cass had a huge question mark over it. How much of Alex had she actually liked and how much was just some weird high? Even the new friends she made were all friends with Cass and she couldn’t help but wonder how tentative that made her place in the friend group. Sure, being the girl who can step up in an emergency was a good niche to fill, but that hardly made her the first on someone’s party invite list, she was certain. 

So even if the text to the group chat was likely going to be met with cricket sounds, Alex decided to invite the usual crew to the Common for a picnic. Andy had brought home a ton of nice breads and while the werewolf could not be trusted with a stove, she could be trusted with cold cuts and cheese. A couple of people agreed to meet, but by the time she had gotten to their meeting spot, most had backed out. She had been about to turn around when she realized someone was in fact there. Then she was being greeted and she felt a rush of relief. See, she could be social on her own merit. It felt like that counted for something. “Yeah,” she exclaimed, “I think everyone else backed out, but I made some sandwiches. Nothing crazy.”

Mostly ham and cheese because she had hoped Nora would come and Nora loved ham. Hopefully this new friend liked ham too and would in fact, be a new friend. “I’m Alex,” she said, extending her hand to shake Thea’s, “I don’t think we’ve met? I’ve only been to a couple of parties with everyone… but if you’re down to picnic still, I am too.” 

—

Thea flushed, joining her strawberry dress in color. Of course, sandwiches were a normal picnic food to bring. The sort of thing smart, normal people brought. She eyed the horizon, considering throwing her basket down the hill. “I made a bacon and tomato pie,” she mumbled. “And a peach galette and a salmon salad.” And enough shame for a few lifetimes, at least. If she threw it all away, at least she wouldn’t have to face the knowledge that Alex had witnessed her desperation to be liked. So desperate, so embarrassing, that she hadn’t even checked the group chat to see that no one else was coming. She was, however, glad that she’d showed up—just so Alex wouldn’t be alone. “My worst nightmare is no one showing up to my events,” she said, not realizing that it wasn’t the sort of thing you told someone who was experiencing just that. “I get sweaty just thinking about it.” 

Thea stuck out her hand, smiling brilliantly, “I’m Cyn—Thea. Sorry, just Thea. It’s nice to meet you, Alex.” Her eyes drifted to her basket. “I, uh, packed way too much.” It wasn’t too late to throw it and pretend Alex didn’t see anything, was it? 

—

Next time she planned a social event, maybe it’d be a good idea to put some actual planning into it. Alex felt bad that Thea had put so much effort into her contributions to the picnic and the only person here was her. Sure, the werewolf could put back more food than your average girl, but she was sure it was meant for a group to enjoy. “Sorry,” she murmured with a hand uneasily stroking the back of her neck, “I’m not really the best at planning these sorts of things. But that all sounds super delicious if you’re still down to hang out.” 

She extended her hand to properly introduce herself, “I’m Alex.” She caught onto the minor way Thea tripped over her own name, but Alex wasn’t about to point it out. “Good to meet you.” She thought about the whole nightmare thing and maybe if she had put more effort into planning this, she’d be horrified, but she couldn’t imagine no one showing up being worse than her usual dose of self-loathing. “Heh, I guess it depends on the context. Could be a nightmare if it was like a big party,” she mused, “Especially if I planned it for someone else.” 

Since she had company now, Alex pulled one of the picnic blankets out of her bag and laid it down on the ground. From what she could smell, the dishes Thea brought smelled amazing and she was hungry, but then there was something else there too that made her pause. She looked up a bit surprised and determined no one else was nearby. There was definitely a werewolf, she could smell another werewolf, which meant Thea was also a werewolf. Did she know or would this be another Gael situation? She hoped it wasn’t the latter. Her head tilted and she gave the other wolf a quizzical look. “So, uh…,” she started, awkwardly gesturing between them, “Lycanthropy, am I right?” Well, that was decidedly not smooth and probably sounded crazy to Thea if she didn’t know, but her patience was already being worn down in that department with Gael. 

—

Thea came with every intention of making new friends who thought she was cool and normal and so, even if her audience was just Alex, she intended on doing just that. Slowly, she unpacked the contents of her basket—the pie, the galette, the salad, the cutlery and plates. She hoped Alex was hungry, at least. “Planning stuff is harder than it seems,” Thea nodded. “You can’t just say ‘hey show up to my thing’ but also, what else are you gonna do? And when people flake on you, it’s not like you can force ‘em to come anyway. Hey, what do you want first?” Thea gestured to her assortment of food and then to Alex’s sandwiches. Now she felt silly about not bringing anything to drink. She had picked up the knife, ready to cut up her pie when the word rang out over the still, summer air. 

Lycanthropy. Of course Thea knew what it meant; she had been there when Twilight had hit its Hollywood stride and then, later, when Teen Wolf was airing (though in her opinion the show really fell off after Allison Argent died). She knew the word. She was the word. Her eyes grew wide and the knife wobbled in her quivering grip. Her palms grew hot. “W-what?” She turned to Alex, panic bubbling off of her. She sniffed the air to no avail; the world and its scents were still a mystery concoction to Thea. The grass was grassy, the dirty was dirty, Alex was Alexy? She didn’t know. She swallowed against the lump in her throat. Suddenly, her mouth was desert dry. “L-like Jacob f-from Twilight? B-bella, where the-the hell have you been, loca?” Thea laughed and the knife slipped from her hands, stabbing into the ground, the handle perfectly vertical. “I like, uh, vampires more.” 

—

“You’re so right,” Alex joked with a smile, “But hey, you showed up which means I get to know you now, so I think it turned out alright this time.” It was still a little embarrassing that no one else had showed up, but Thea seemed pretty cool and understanding about it… and packed a lot of really delicious sounding food that Alex was looking forward to trying since all of it sounded delicious. “Mm, maybe the tomato bacon pie? That’s like… three of my favorite things. Tomatoes, bacon, and pie,” she exclaimed. 

There was a long pause and she could see the way the knife shook in Thea’s hand. At least that hopefully meant the other werewolf at least knew she was a werewolf, something Alex couldn’t seem to get through Gael’s head. But then Thea was writing it off and talking about Twilight and Alex wondered if she couldn’t tell they were the same. 

“Uh, lycanthropy,” she said slowly, “Like werewolves?” There was clearly a reference there that Alex didn’t understand since she’d never seen the movies or read the books. She tilted her head slightly confused before giving a shrug. “Not like Twilight,” she laughed nervously, “Never read or seen it actually. But can’t say I’ve met a vampire for reference. Zombies are pretty cool though… not really what I was getting at.” 

She took some of the sandwiches out of her pack and placed a few between them. Alex wasn’t sure how to address the elephant in the room… or wolf in the field? “The word made you nervous…,” she trailed off, “Do you not smell it? The whole we’re the same in that thing?” 

—

“WOW, you’ve never seen Twilight?” Thea laughed loud and nervously. Her heart punched the edge of her ribs in quick, suffocating pumps. The scene around her spun and twisted, like water dropped on a painting. Everything was a blurry mess of green and blue and then, a series of grays. She could only tell where Alex was by the smell of her, which she refused to categorize. “I b-b-bet you don’t know…” she slurred, her words tumbling quickly over each other. “…a-about the ugly baby.” With hindsight, she might have laughed; it was kind of funny to be talking about Renesmee while her body unraveled. Her throat squeezed, pinching her airway into a thin tube with a tiny hole and Thea had to push in as much air into her body as she could. She pressed her plan to her chest, marveling at the rapid hammering of her heart, then, worrying over it. Surely, she was dying. 

Thea squeezed her eyes shut, her body rang out like a tuning fork hit at a bad angle. The discordance made her feel like she was dying and her body, panicked, continued its reaction accordingly. It wasn’t until the sweet smell of flour, the savory kick of ham and the unmistakable odor of cheese wafted into her nostrils that her mind rendered into a fireworks show shot off its last multicolor explosion. Her father made her ham and cheese sandwiches all the time; it was all they had money for and the only thing time would allow him to make before work. Thea should have gotten sick of eating the same thing day after day, but she was a creature of habits and rituals and nothing soothed her more than something that operated without change. She opened her eyes and stared at the sandwiches wrapped in plastic. She’d come here for a new chance at normal. Thea looked at Alex, smiling brilliantly. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Thea pulled her knife from the ground and pointed it at Alex. Then, grinning, she cut into the tomato pie. “I’m just a normal girl with a bit of a moon-based issue.” She put a slice on to a plate and set it in front of Alex. “I haven’t done anything wrong. Ever. I’m totally normal and okay. Oh, I’ve got some water in…” She pulled a water bottle out of the basket and set it in front of Alex, adjusting all the angles so everything sat just right. “If you’re going to claim that you turn into a monster every full moon, and some, and hurt people… well…I don’t think that’s me. I’m very normal, Alex. My problem is just a teeny tiny little thing—you say lycanthropy and that’s just so weird and scary. You might be a weirdo, but not me. The only thing I smell is ham and cheese.” 

—

“I don’t know about any ugly babies,” Alex said with a confused grimace. What did ugly babies have to do with anything? Was it actually okay to call a baby ugly? That seemed kind of mean. It was just a baby. She assumed the baby had to have some sort of nonsense going on if it was from Twilight though, so she was going to have to trust Thea on that one… or simply ask Cass about it later. When it came to rocks and movies, Cass was better than Google. Google didn’t look cute while answering her questions and Cass looked cute always. The potentially ugly baby from Twilight was hardly the point though and neither was getting lost in thoughts of simping over her girlfriend. There were two werewolves in the field here and apparently only one of them realized it. 

If she weren’t so worried about the fact that there was another werewolf that was clueless about being a werewolf, Alex would have felt a little bit bad about the way Thea was stumbling over her words and how she could hear the girl’s heartbeat beginning to race in her chest. All the telltale signs that the other girl was nervous, but she couldn’t drop this. A werewolf had to know what they were so they could prevent a whole lot of bloodshed. She tried to soften her features all the same, but found she wasn’t sure what to do with her hands. Her and Thea weren’t close enough for her to give her shoulder a comforting squeeze or something. 

“A moon based issue,” Alex repeated while pinching the bridge of her nose. Was that better or worse than ‘sleepwalking’ as Gael so aptly put it? It at least sounded a little bit more in the realm of self awareness, but not by very much. She made an effort to remove her hands from her face and soften her features. Coming in hot or showing her annoyance wasn’t going to help here. It’s not like it was Thea she was annoyed with, anyhow. It was moreso the ever growing pile of what the fuck getting bigger that was frustrating, but that was hardly on any one person. “How is a moon based issue different from lycanthropy, exactly,” she asked as patiently as she could muster. 

The pie was on a plate in front of her and Thea continued with such an insistent nonchalance that Alex almost wanted to drop it. But she could hear the way Thea’s heart raced and she could smell the wolf on her. She had Alan and Gael, but some selfish part of her wanted someone closer to her own age that she could relate to in all of this. She chewed at her lower lip and her fork played at the pie on her plate. “Uh,” she started nervously, “Fine, let’s say moon-based issue then. You have a moon-based issue, I have a moon-based issue. Let’s be friends about it?” Smooth. 

“Hey,” she shot back when she fully realized what was said, “I’m not a weirdo.” Speaking the truth plainly wasn’t weird. Maybe Alex knew that simple terms did sound crazy, especially to someone who didn’t grow up around all of this, but she wasn’t weird just because she never had a choice when it came to knowing all of this. 

—

You’re an ugly baby, she thought, but decided not to exclaim. It was a little too mean and Alex’s only crime was ruining their nice picnic. Which was a pretty big crime to Thea, who adored the sacred art of the picnic, but not so large that she couldn’t forget it with enough willpower. Her mind kicked up like the engine of an old car, sputtering at first but humming with a heavy sense of life once it was ready. Alex didn’t say anything, she told herself. Alex was normal, she thought. I am normal. I am normal. I am normal. She wasn’t some freak, she wasn’t a monster, she didn’t eat people, fuck the moon. For a moment, some piece of her churning mind thought about Nora and that day in her crypt. Normal could be what they made it; she could be a wolf and normal. But Nora wasn’t here, even as Thea found herself desperately hoping her friend would be. She couldn’t will Nora into existence just by wanting her there, which was all the better for Nora, she thought, as it would’ve gotten annoying to materialize at her side every two minutes. In the end, her chant turned into a screaming choir and there was nothing inside of her but the promise that she was normal. 

The wolf was a strange creature; Thea didn’t understand it, Thea didn’t want to understand it. In these moments, where her skin burned and her bones ached with strange desires of splintering, all she could do to keep the wolf away was to tell herself that it didn’t exist. It would’ve been very bad for Alex if the wolf was real. “Because lycanthropy is a fantasy word,” she said, calm as the blue sky and its fluffy white clouds. “People don’t actually turn into wolves because that would be weird and stupid.” The wolf was a tiny black hole in the center of Thea’s body and inside of the singularity, an eye looked up at her. It was watching; it was waiting. 

Thea pushed herself off the ground, brushing imaginary flecks of dirt off her nice summer dress. “I don’t think I like you very much, Alex,” she announced matter-of-factly, “I don’t know if I want to be your friend. You make up strange words. You say weird stuff. You accuse people of stupid, nonexistent things.” She turned and grabbed her bike, picking it up off the ground. The black hole pulsed, expanding by a tenth of an inch. An impurity was devoured; another thing she tried to deny the existence of. “No wonder,” she said, “no one came to your picnic.” 

—

Something in the response left Alex feeling indignant. All the patience that she had found when she realized what Gael was seemed to be completely absent in her meeting with Thea. The younger werewolf didn’t have the benefit of being an older adult that Alex was desperate to please which likely played into the lack of patience she was exhibiting. Plus, there was enough self-recognition there to realize it was a moon-based issue, so why could Thea just not put that last piece together? It was a willful refusal to accept the truth and given how many people that put in danger, it was hard not to grow agitated with the other werewolf. 

“Uh huh,” Alex retorted with an eye roll, “Because a moon-based issue sounds so much less weird and stupid.” At that point, she was almost relieved that Thea was pushing herself off the ground and leaving her to enjoy her ham and cheese sandwiches in peace. Part of her knew she should push the issue harder, but there was a couple of weeks until the next full moon. Surely it’d be easy enough to get back in contact with Thea and have someone else look over the other werewolf when the time came. Right now, she was hungry and frustrated, so she let Thea leave with nothing more than a huff. It didn’t matter if Thea liked her so long as the girl wasn’t going out and turning whatever neighborhood she was in into an all-you-can-eat werewolf buffet. “I’d rather eat alone anyway,” she leered as the other werewolf rode off on her bike. Maybe that was a lie, it’d be nice if Cass or literally any of their other friends were here, but what could she really expect from an impromptu text meet-up? Apparently the answer to that was in-denial werewolves. 

#wr thea #threads; with thea #threads; with thea; ugly cgi babies #(never been a natural all i do is try try try) ;; writing #(the moonlight's blinding) ;; season 1 writing