Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun: mobile wallpapers (640 x 1350) ✧ Feel free to use, but please don’t claim as your own~ { credits: #00037 }

sweet love

| who would have known that the local bakery could get sebastian to show his soft spot |

sebastian moran x reader

word count: 3609

tw: sexual implications but no actual spice (mostly from sebastian’s “flirting”)

a/n: a little new years gift from me to all of you! i’m sorry it took so long to get another post up but i enjoyed writing this one! hopefully sebastian isn’t too ooc in this idk ig i just have a thing for making characters ooc but it’s very sweet and possibly tooth rotting. i also realize that i got carried away making this one and now you can read through my brain rot lol. ALSO APPARENTLY HES 6’6 THE MAN COULD ABSOLUTELY PUNT ME WHAT anyhow, i hope you all enjoy!! p.s. if you see grammatical errors and incoherent sentences, i just copy pasted from google docs lmao good luck

Sebastian grumbled under his breath, annoyed with the work that William had him do.

“‘Those who do not work in this house aren’t treated as people.’” Sebastian scoffed as he glanced over at the list. “Louis should be glad I’m on good terms with William.”

The ex-colonel should’ve been back at the estate an hour ago but he felt somewhat spiteful and decided to stay out longer. He had finished everything he needed but he had no clue what to do. It was already lunch and his stomach was silently growling but he refused to face the brothers just yet.

That was until he stopped in front of a quaint bakery with the words Fox’s Biscuits painted on a hanging sign.

“Isn’t this…” He looked at the bakery window, mouthwatering biscuits on display for everyone to see.

“These are the biscuits Father bought for me when I was younger.”

Longing for a sense of his childhood, Sebastian walked into the small shop.

In an instant, the sickly sweet smell of chocolate hit his nose and the bell above the door rang out. It was a small space but one could feel the dedication put into the little treats. “Hello?” Sebastian called out as soon as he realized he had been alone for at least two minutes.

“Just a moment!”

Crashes and clangs could be heard from behind a door that presumably led to a kitchen. You burst through the door, your apron stained with chocolate and your right cheek was covered in a light dust of flour.

Sebastian stared at you with wide eyes, not sure if he should focus on the disorderly ruin that was yourself or the absolute charm that you carried. “You have a little something—” He pointed to his cheek and your cute eyes widened a smidge.

You frantically turned around, swiping at both cheeks and turning around when you felt like you were clean. “How may I help you today?”

Sebastian’s heart skipped a beat when you smiled widely, his cheeks feeling a little flush. He shook his head.

“Those biscuits by the door; how much are they?” You took a step to the side to see which one he was talking about. “Oh, it’s 10 shillings for each one.” You informed him, walking to the stacked treats with a cloth in hand. “How many would you like?”

A sly grin painted Sebastian’s features and he turned to face you. “3 pieces please.” You barely picked up the second biscuit before you felt a presence looming behind you. “Perhaps, I can have you too if I pay extra.” He whispered in your ear.

Heat spread across your face as you quickly shoved the rest of the biscuits in the small bag. You shoved the biscuits his way and held out your other hand expectantly. “Th-That’s 30 shillings!” You cursed the way you stuttered.

Sebastian laughed at your flustered state as he handed you the payment. He shot you a teasing glance.

“I can’t bake very well but I can show you how good I am with my hands.” Your eyes widened again at the implication and you shoved him towards the exit.

“Thank you for coming to our bakery!” You breathed out a sigh of relief. One patron down… only many more to come.

The ex-colonel swung the bag leisurely as he strode into the manor, forgetting about lunch. “Where were you, Sebastian?” Louis asked as soon as he opened the door.

“Getting myself food.”

The bell rang in your little family shop and you smiled, heading out to greet the next customer with freshly baked biscuits in hand.

“Good afternoon–” Your smile dropped when you realized who came into the bakery.

“What’s with the frown, sweetheart?” Sebastian cooed and you narrowed your eyes at him. “Did you not wish I would come back?”

“I wish you never came at all.” The man stilled for a moment but laughed when you walked past him to restock the display case. “You were here yesterday, were you not?” He turned to see you carefully placing the treats on the platter. “Yes but I’m here to buy more of those delicious biscuits you sell.”

Sebastian stalked closer to you just as you spun around to point the tray in his face. “Personal space, please.” He raised his hands in resignation and backed up. You walked back to the counter to place the warm tray on top. “You weren’t complaining yesterday.”

“I didn’t expect yesterday. Now, how many biscuits would you like?” Before he opened his mouth, you continued. “And buy enough so I don’t have to see you again.”

Sebastian laughed again, enjoying your quips. “You seem very spirited today, m’love.” You rolled your eyes. “Either you buy something or you can get out of the shop.” The man walked towards you but you stood your ground this time, arms crossed.

“Your biscuits are delicious but I bet you taste even better.” Your face heated up and Sebastian grinned. “Th-The way out is right behind you.”

Why do I always stutter?

“You’re adorable when you get shy on me.” You shot him a pointed glare and he chuckled. “I’ll have the whole display.” Sebastian thoroughly enjoyed the way your shy attitude appeared when he spoke.

“Th-The whole—” Sebastian chuckled and leaned on a nearby wall. “Yes, sweetheart; the whole case.” Of course, you needed the money but could the man even afford it?

“Th-That’s 100 shillings.” Sebastian took another glance at the display and shook his head. “Come now sweetheart, all of that is at least 600 shillings.” You shook your head.

“600 shillings is too much!” The thought of even getting mad at his previous words flew out of your head as he insisted on paying the full price. “Please, I’ll lower the price.”

Sebastian smiled as he reached into his coat and pulled out a satchel of coins. “It must have taken a painstakingly long time to make all those biscuits, it’s only right I pay you in full.” He placed the bag on the counter and you slid it back towards him. “I don’t have time to count 100 shillings! Please, that would be more than enough.”

This continued on for another ten minutes before he finally got you to settle on paying half of the original price.

“Enjoy your biscuits!” You called out to him just as the door barely closed behind him. Thankfully the door had a large glass pane and he turned around, offering a small wave before walking off.

You watched as he left the front of the shop and your eyes drifted to the empty display case.

“What in God’s name happened.”

Sebastian was aware that the last time he saw you was the other day, but he did comprehend that coming back the day after buying 60 biscuits would look rather odd. Telling Louis he had to run an errand in the town, the ex-colonel set off to your little bakery. Considering how empty it was the last two times he saw you, Sebastian expected it to be the same.

What he didn’t expect was a large crowd that seemed too big to be inside of the bakery.

Sebastian carefully opened the door and was greeted with the bustling sound of people chatting as they waited for their treats. Being the tall man he was, he searched for you in the crowd until he saw you rush out of the kitchen with your hair a complete mess.

“Thank you for being so patient, have a great day!” You said breathlessly and the patron nodded, wishing you well before leaving. They passed by Sebastian and he watched as they left the shop. He turned his attention back to you, who wore the same smile that made his heart stutter as you helped the next customer.

God only knows how long Sebastian was in the shop but the last customer left and you slumped against the counter. “Is that how you hold yourself in front of your patrons?” You groaned and he laughed.

“You bought 60 biscuits the other day and I still have to make the next batch, why are you back?” You glanced up at him and he shrugged. “Can I not wait for the biscuits?” You kept staring at him and he shot you a questioning glance.

“I can give you an estimated time for when the biscuits are done.” You yawned as you stood up and stretched. “I saw you come in a while ago, do you not have anywhere to be?”

Sebastian leaned against the counter and sighed. “Not today.”

Not having the energy to make him leave, you simply walked back into the kitchen and he watched as the door swung behind you.

It had been three minutes since you disappeared behind the doors and Sebastian was about to leave before you emerged from the kitchen. “If you’re staying until I make the next batch, then I want you to try this.” You said as you place down a small plate with two chocolate covered biscuits. “My father doesn’t know about these so I want to see if these taste good.” He took a glance at the plate and looked up at you.

“You couldn’t try them yourselves?” He asked as you stood across from him, arms folded. “I’d be favored to like them because I made them.” A beat of silence passed as you stared at each other.

“They’re not poisoned, if that’s what you’re worried about.” An impressed look crossed Sebastian’s face as he picked up the biscuit and ate it. You watched closely as the man in front of you chewed your creation. “Is that jam and cream?”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, it’s indecent.” Sebastian snorted as he took another bite. “You sound like my mum.” You smiled softly as he started to reach for the second one.

“Keep staring like that, I might have to eat something else.” He said as he winked at you.

“Y-You—!”

Sebastian’s visits became routine and each time he came in, your day got a little better. You scoffed. Like you would ever tell him that.

“Darling!” Sebastian called out as he opened the door. “You know, I don’t even know your name and you’ve been coming here for two weeks.” You stated as you cleaned down the counter.

“Aw, you want to put a name to a face so you can moan it tonight?” He cooed and you slammed your towel down, flustered. “O-One day without suggesting those things! I-Is that too much to ask?” Sebastian laughed and you went back to furiously wiping down the counter.

He smiled as he walked towards you and placed his hand on yours. “If you keep scrubbing like that, the wood will wear down.” You sighed and relaxed your grip on the washing cloth. “Your hands are warm.” You said and he chuckled.

“The cloth’s gone cold.” He pointed out and you rolled your eyes. “I didn’t realize.” Sebastian snorted and took the cloth out of your hands. “Here.” He took both of your hands and held them in his, breathing out slowly on them. He looked at you, taking note of the dark circles under your eyes.

If you were working yourself that much, he would make you take this short break to relax.

You looked up at your hands and suddenly felt shy at the intimate contact. “(Y/N),” you muttered, looking away.

Sebastian glanced up at you and huffed softly. “Sebastian.” You continued to let him warm up your hands.

A serene silence fell over the two of you as he exhaled softly on your hands.

That was until your sister barged into the shop, back from the market. “(Y/N)!” All three of you paused as you stared at each other. You watched as your sister’s eyes traveled from yours to your intertwined hands and you instantly flared up.

“I was just handing him biscuits!” You yelped, yanking your hands out of Sebastian’s. You looked at him and nodded your head towards the exit. “Thank you so much for coming!” Sebastian grinned and he leaned in closer to you. “I’ll come back for you tomorrow, sweetheart.”

He knew he said this loud enough for you sister to hear. “Good day!” He smiled innocently, nodding to the girl by the door and walked out.

You watched as he left, not noticing your sister walking up and taking her place next to you. She watched with you as Sebastian walked away and took note of the subtle starry gaze in your eyes.

“Now I understand why you always want to watch the shop.”

You fidgeted as Sebastian walked into the shop once again. What was this? His 40th time at the shop? You shook your head. It didn’t matter.

I will ask him!

“What’s troubling you, sweetheart?” Even through the teasing tone, you could hear some worry and you just decided to spit it out.

“Would you like to accompany me to the moorish dance tonight?” Sebastian’s eyes widened as you stared up at him with unintentionally large eyes. The man knew he had a persona to hold in front of you but felt himself failing as he struggled to fight the blush rising on his cheeks.

“Only if you’ll accompany me to my bed tonight.” He watched as your eyes narrowed and you puffed out your chest, crossing your arms. “Forget I asked.” He laughed as you turned away from him. “I’m just playing around!” You stuck your tongue out childishly and turned away again.

“You’re pouting!”

“No I’m not!”

You two continued to bicker until he apologized, albeit through laughs. “I’m serious though, Sebastian.” He looked at you with a fond smile and he exhaled.

“I’d be honored.” You turned to face him with the same smile you used when you first greeted him, except this time it was wider and you looked like you were about to bounce over the counter. “But I really thought I would be the first to ask you.”

“Let customs lay themselves to rest for a bit, Sebastian.”

The dance was some time later at night so you decided to close shop early and walk around the town with Sebastian.

He had never seen you so talkative before and it was very interesting to see you speak without having to put him in his place every five minutes.

“So, do you and your sister run the bakery by yourselves?” Sebastian asked as you walked down the bustling road. “Lately. My father had been overworking himself so my sister and I decided to take over for him.” You smiled as a girl ran past your legs, her little brother following shortly after.

He watched on with a fond look as you continued talking about the bakery and all the baking mishaps that made you the person you were today. “That sounds like it requires a lot of effort.” You chuckled as you reached a secluded tree, not too far from the town but enough to be alone.

“It does, but the son of my father’s friend likes to help from time to time.” The sound of a possible competitor peaked his interest and sat down beside you on the grass. “The son of your father’s friend?” You nodded as you stared at the town and leaned on the tree.

“He’s a wonderful boy, very enthusiastic about helping me and my sister.” You turned to face him with an excited expression. “Oh, I’ll introduce you at the dance later! He’s helping the men set up but we should be able to see him!” The alpha male in Sebastian refused to let himself lose the one good thing he could possibly have in his life.

“You hid the whole jar?”

“Mrs. Pettor makes the best jams! I wasn’t going to let my family finish it!” Sebastian laughed as you defended yourself.

It was almost time for the dance and you both were walking to the town center.

“I’ve been talking all this time.” You realized and you turned to Sebastian. “Tell me more about—” You cut yourself off with a squeak as you were lifted off of your feet.

Sebastian watched as a blonde boy swung you around. “A-Alexander!” The boy put you down, a grin on his face.

The blond boy looked at you and you smiled back before Sebastian cleared his throat. “Oh, right!” You turned to face Sebastian and grinned. “Alexander, this is Sebastian! Sebastian, Alexander!” The shorter man held out his hand, blue eyes instantly hardening.

“Hello Sebastian,” Alexander said as Sebastian shook his hand. “Alexander.” You looked between the two and felt a tense aura emanating from them before you clapped your hands.

“Shall we go to the dance?” Alexander let go of Sebastian’s hand and immediately faced you. “Of course!” The blond grabbed your hand and you were barely able to get ahold of Sebastian’s before Alexander took off running.

Cheers and music filled the air and the sound of shoes hitting stone echoed throughout the streets. Despite knowing most of the faces, you spent most of your time talking with Sebastian about stories from each of your lives.

“(Y/N)!” You turned your head and saw Alexander heading towards you, out of breath and sweaty from dancing. You excused yourself from the conversation and Alexander stopped in front of you. “I never did thank you for working more than you should have these last few days.” You laughed as you waved him off. “It’s nothing you should thank me for, Alexander. My sister helped so it wasn’t all bad.”

Alexander took a glance at Sebastian, who had been mobbed by most of the town women and looked like he was trying to hold his own. “Would you like to dance?” His question caught you off guard. “I invited Sebastian, I couldn’t leave him…” You turned to see a group of girls crowding around the man and your smile faltered. “One dance wouldn’t hurt.”

“Sebastian!” He looked up from the group of girls and saw you waving. He was about to move until he saw your hand in Alexander’s. “I’m going to dance for a bit!” You laughed as Alexander pulled you to the dance area. Alexander chuckled at you as you told Sebastian of your whereabouts. At least you had the decency to tell him you were dancing with another man.

“So how’d you meet Sebastian?” Alexander asked as you danced to the music. “He came into the shop one day and just kept visiting!” You smiled and the boy in front of you exhaled softly, deciding to drop the topic and talk to your sister about it later.

The former colonel no longer focused on the girls in front of him as he watched you laugh hard at something Alexander said and his heart beat faster in his chest. Out of jealousy or awe, he couldn’t tell. But the way your eyes shone under the golden glow of the street lamps told him to move and get you.

He pushed his way through the crowd of ladies and kept his eyes trained on your carefree figure. Your skin looked so beautiful under this light, maybe you were the one who lit up the town. Your smile alone had enough energy to do so anyway.

“May I have a dance with (Y/N)?” Sebastian asked as he reached you and Alexander. The blond man smiled and your eyes sparkled in delight. “Of course.” Alexander gently let go of your hand and placed it in Sebastian’s.

“Thank you Alexander!” You called out and he turned around, sending you a soft smile and a small wave before walking towards your sister.

You turned your gaze back to Sebastian and you grinned. “Did you get jealous?” Sebastian scoffed before shaking his head. “I don’t get jealous.” You laughed as you felt Sebastian pull you closer. “I saw you looking at Alexander like he was going to steal me away.” You pointed out with a smug smile.

“He did steal you away.” You grinned at him.

“You’re pouting.”

“N-No I’m not!” You laughed and watched as the tips of his ears turned pink. “Aw, you’re adorable when you get shy on me!” You cooed, using the exact same words he said to you a while back.

“You—” He picked you up by the waist and you squealed as he lifted you up. “You think you’re so smart.” He muttered as he placed you back down and you looked up at him, your skin shining from sweat and short breaths leaving your lips.

He instantly leaned in, placing a short kiss on your lips and your eyes widened before trying to chase him before he pulled away. “You do taste better than your biscuits.” You buried your head in Sebastian’s chest in embarrassment and he laughed as he started to lead the dance once more.

“Because of that, I’m charging you the rest of the 60 biscuits you bought.” Sebastian feigned hurt. “But that’s too much!” You rolled your eyes and smiled up at him. “I’m sure if you don’t want to pay, Louis can help me find something for you to do to pay me back.”

Sebastian’s eyes narrowed and you giggled at the sour look on his face. “I’m sure you can help around the shop to pay them off, if you don’t want Louis to get involved.” His eyes softened before gently grabbing your hand and placing a chaste kiss to it.

“If it means I get to see you everyday, it will have been worth it.”

tags: @zoehanji @infinitebells

How Day6 would react to overhearing you admit your crush on him to one of the other members

AN: a request from anon. i feel ive treated this more seriously (and focused perhaps more on the confessions themselves, bc i interpreted ‘crush’ subconsciously as ‘having long-term-feelings for’) than you meant in your request but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

Sungjin

“hyuuun, i’m in love please make it stop.” “only way that’s going to happen is if you go tell him.” “...i hate you.”

sungjin... i picture is going to date to marry (or an equivalent if marriage is not for you, as though i get the vibe he’s quite traditional, for the right person he would be very easily convinced), so he takes crushes and confessions quite seriously

probably would feel bad for eavesdropping

then would feel happy that you felt the same way

but then more serious issue of now having to confess would take over

would spend a long time thinking of the best way to do it

would probably settle on a classic walk or cinema/theatre depending on what’s showing

would make damn sure he and you would be alone while confessing—so to save both parties from pressure and embarrassment should things go wrong 

also he’s quite a private guy and would want to let others know on his own and your terms

ngl probably wouldn’t admit he’d overheard you until like... a long time later

it would be under the initial reasoning that he would wait until you were stable so it wouldn’t have too big of an effect

but then he would forget

until it randomly came up in conversation 

like we may even be talking years here

maybe when you live in your own place, just the two of you, and you’re hanging out with him and younghyun who is just refusing to go home bc the food is too good at yours who brings it up 

“i don’t understand how it took so long for you two to get together, like even wonpil was starting to find yn’s pining sickening.”

and you would be salty, because “excuse me i hid my desperation very well!”

and sungjin would just immediately come to support you because he’s a loyal motherfucker and would begin, without thinking “she did, i didn’t know until i—”

that would be when he stops himself bc hes like oh shit i didn’t tell her and now two very curious sets of eyes are like staring at him and he’s 98% sure he can’t backtrack at all 

“when you what?”

and he would just sigh “when i overheard you telling younghyun that you liked me”

and there’d be a moment of silence, followed by laughter 

youngk would be confused, probably, having a surprisingly better recollection that you perhaps would “wait i remember that—how did it take you two months to work out what to do next?!”

and you end up just laughing harder, before noticing the the mix of emotions on sungjins face and reassure him “it doesn’t matter how long it took, we’re together now”

anyway overall sungjin is probably quite serious about it, but it will have a happy ending, you’ve just got to be patient lmao 

Jae

“dowoon, what do i do?” 

jae would be playful about it

after hearing you ask dowoon for advice since hes good friends with him he would be ecstatic, but would try and keep it lowkey

he’d hide out of sight of the doorway he’d passed by to have his little moment

and then he wouldn’t be able to stop smiling

his eyes would keep glancing to you for the rest of the day, even more than usual

but i think he would want to make things more official as soon as possible, as he doesn’t want to waste any time when he could do it sooner and be with you

and so he’d ask if you had a spare moment on the day or so, and take you some place quiet

not necessarily his room, more likely just outside the front door in the warm summer air

and ngl i think he would totally pull the “i think you know why i summoned you here today”

of course, yall have no idea, but you’re used to his occasional crackheadery—otherwise why would you crush on him so hard? “not a bit, but if its a trip to get snacks you don’t even have to ask, i’m in”

“well, that is a plan for later... depending on how this goes”

that’s the point where you would get confused and begin to wonder if something is up, but hel’l continue “i found out something really cool today yn.”

“really? was it the pin to brian’s credit card?”

he would laugh but shake his head, “nah even better” and that would give you the heads up that this was serious, and it would occur to you that he might have overheard something

but it becomes obvious when he follows with “a little bird... told me that someone, likes someone else, in our group. our friendship group.”

you briefly consider panicking, as the whole thing could still be construed as him not liking you back, but you put on a brave face and push through, “oh really? who?”

“that’s the problem, i don’t know, but i was wondering if you did.”

the chance was clear for anyone to see, and seeing the glimmer of hope, you seize it “well, i know someone who likes you... but i’m not sure if its mutual, so that might be why they haven’t said”

“if it’s who i think it is, then it definitely is... mutual” he would admit

and that would be the closest the two of you ever got to literally word-for-word confessing, because out of nerves neither of you would probably be able to admit it at the crux of the moment

however, like in all the movies idc if its cliche you would gravitate towards each other, and that would be the moment where you both recognised your feelings as well as shared your first kiss together

ok i’m going to stop before i combust 

anyway as for whether he’d admit he’d overheard you, he would probably be quite quick to the chase on that one too, probably right after the kiss and you’ve spoken about it a bit more, he’ll probably just say “i kind of accidentally overheard you telling dowoon, please don’t be mad at me”

but how could you be, you’d gotten what you wanted after all

in conclusion, jae is lighthearted about it and woudn’t waste any time

Younghyun

“wonpil did i tell you how much i love his eyes?” “hmmm... perhaps... but tell me again, to just to make sure.”

god bless wonpil his emotional support would be A+

right off the bat our youngk is a songwriter

he probably finds a lot of inspiration out of love

and so his feelings for you coalesce to create love songs that he may or may not use in the future

anyhow, it means that to cope with his feelings he’s probably half composed something small where he admits them 

with little intention of you probably ever hearing it at all

or at least, not without big chunks edited and names changed/cut

but when he overhears you rambling to wonpil who doesn’t mind the sappiness a characteristic you probably got off our brian anyway with his occasional borderline emo-ness

he’s grateful to his past-self for starting it, and realises that maybe its time to finish it

so it’ll take a week or so for him to finally confess

bc even though hes a bit of a flirt, i don’t see him wanting to tarnish love, since he owes it so much and its not fun to play with someone’s heart, especially not yours

so it might take him a little longer, and when he gets round to it, it’ll be perfect, just like you in his eyes

so prepare to be serenaded

yes, that sort of serenaded

in dim evening light, with the sun’s glow beginning to fade and make way for the stars, flickering like the candles laid out for you

again, that classical vibe won’t be missed on him

as for whether he’d tell you, probably only if you asked, but he would add that he’d been writing the song beforehand

he just may not admit to not planning on ever performing it

overall? when it comes to romantic flair, kang younghyun is king 

Wonpil

“sungjin, uh, do you know where wonpil is? i can’t—” “isn’t he at your hip?” “as much as i kind of wish he was, he kind of isn’t.”

wonpil, my lovely sweetheart

probably wouldn’t be able to stop himself from just

walking straight in when he accidentally overhears you to ask right there and then

like, you’re probably pestering talking to sungjin in the kitchen or another equally frequented place, so it was likely that someone was going to overhear anyway 

and maybe that was part of sungjins plan dont put it past him

but also it meant wonpil got further into the room the hunt for sustenance spurring him on, you know how it is before he caught onto what was being said, thus making it harder to back out

thus sungjin knew he’d overheard, but you with your back to the door were still clueless

and would’ve stayed that way had wonpil not continued and straight up asked or sungjin not said anything, which lets face it by this point he was really considering doing

he would be really excited about hearing that the feelings were mutual, and you were right there so what harm was really being done if he did just straight up waltz in?

as soon as you heard his small “you like me too?” you would whip around 

aaand that would be sungjin’s cue to leave

“do you mean that?”

“it only feels right when you’re by my side, pillie.”

the words you would exchange would be in a soft flurry of emotion tbh, out of disbelief but excitement for the future

most likely ending with you embracing, foreheads resting against one another’s

fluff hours only in the house of pil, ok?

Dowoon

“jae, do you think dowoon will be free tomorrow?” “yea why?” “i want to take him to the cat cafe—” “oh my god is it happening?! is it really happening? are you finally going to tell him? plan ILU is underway?” “keep it down!” “oh god everybody stay calm, stay fucking calm—!”

my bean

my lovely bean

would feel guilty over accidentally eavesdropping, and this would reflect in his shyness later

however, he decides to run with the silver lining of having the chance to be prepared for tomorrow

and so he would not say a word and try and act natural

especially when you ask him if he wants to go out somewhere with you the next day

he’s not sure how he did, he tried to hide his ears as best he could but he was also well aware you knew him too well

when the next morning rolls around, he’s up early, getting ready in nice clothes that he hopes aren’t suspiciously too nice

and then he waits, trying to calm is nerves, before realising that maybe ignorance is bliss

when the time comes and you make your way to the cafe, he finds it difficult to act surprised, but also to try and keep his breath steady

finally, near the end, after asking if he had a good time and wanted to come back, you confess you liked him and it’s as if a weight lifts off his shoulders

he would kiss your cheek soon after, without much warning, out of relief and joy and nerves and a whole lot of else

and you’d probably pull him in for a proper kiss by his collar as soon as you’re sure he’s ok with it

and then the fact he eavesdropped would be a secret that he would die with

~~~

Masterlist

“rollercoaster” || denki kaminari

desc.: You worked at the hot dog stand. He worked at the Cosmic Arcade. What else is there to say? [2k words - f!reader]

a/n: this song goes so hard. it’s one of those songs that just feels like summer!! [navigation]

Summer break meant new opportunities, new experiences, and apparently for you, it meant hot dogs, too. You’d considered applying for a job at your local supermarket or fast food restaurant, but you heard about the three-free-rides-a-week discount at the nearby space-themed amusement park, so of course you were gonna apply for the job that paid significantly less (but gave you so, so much more). You never had much energy left in you to go on the rides after your shift, but just having the discount was enough.

You’d nearly worked in the Play Area 51 before it dawned on you just how much little kids tend to vomit, especially directly into the ballpit, so you instead decided to work at one of the many hot dog stands- one that was frequented by less-vomiting-more-screaming children, middle-aged women complaining about how they “asked for extra ketchup,” and surprisingly, really cute boys. Especially the cute boy that worked in the Cosmic Arcade. 

He looked exactly like someone who’d spend his time playing laser tag or driving bumper cars, but didn’t at all seem put down by having to operate them, instead. You couldn’t remember a time you’d seen him without a smile on his face. You also couldn’t remember a single day he hadn’t bought a hot dog on his break since the day you started working at the stand. 

You’d never really talked beyond taking his order and him insisting that you “put more ketchup on the hot dog please, I’m going for a world record,” and you insisting that “we don’t have enough ketchup to satiate your strange desire to consume an ungodly amount of an already-unholy condiment,” and to be honest, you were tired of simping from afar. But alas, you were but a simple hot dog merchant, and he worked ten minutes away at the distant Cosmic Arcade. 

However, it was him that eventually spoke first to you nearly three weeks after getting hired: “You know, the most expensive hot dog ever sold was one hundred and sixty nine US dollars.”

You stopped as you were about to give him his food. “Is this you telling me that you wanna try to break another world record?”

“Perhaps. What are you sellin’ for?” He smirked, crossing his arms on the counter and leaning in closer. You put your hands on your hips and looked around. 

“I mean, the most expensive thing I can give you is, like, five bucks in US dollars, so you might be in the wrong place to break your record, buddy.” 

“I thought this was supposed to be the best hot dog stand in the world.”

Your brows raised. “Who said that?” 

“Me.”

“Yeah, but why?” 

“Well, it’s got some pretty good hot dogs, but it’s also got this smokin’ hot chick working there, so it’s really at the top of my list.” 

You flushed, and he winked at you. You couldn’t help but smile. “Well, if it’s really so good, you should probably get a hot dog. There’s a line.” 

He turned to the line behind him and spun back around even faster. “Oh fuck. Can I get a hot dog please?” 

“Of course,” You laughed, taking his money after he dug in his pockets for it. “How much ketchup?” 

“Too much. Just pile that shit on there!”

“I’ll see what I can do.” You actually giggled as you said it. You couldn’t stop your heart from pounding in your chest as you fixed his hot dog. He was really cute, and really funny, and also acted a little stupid, which you admired in a man. You could do without all the ketchup, though.

You handed him his hot dog with a smile, genuine only for him. “Have a nice day!” 

“My day’s already perfect for getting to talk to you!” He beamed, speeding off before you could respond. He ran to one of his far-away friends waiting in line at the funnel cake stand and started bouncing up and down as he talked. You hoped he was talking about you.

When he came back the next day, you asked: “Don’t you ever get tired of hot dogs? You come here every day.”

“I’m not just here for the hot dogs, honey. Speaking of which, can I have a hot dog?” He rested his elbows on the counter and put his cheeks in his hands as he smiled at you. He’d already set his money on the space in front of him. 

As you were making his hot dog, he asked you: “What time do you get off of work?” 

“I’m getting off at eight today. Why?” You lathered his hot dog with as much ketchup you could give him without getting in trouble. 

“Can you meet me at that rollercoaster after you’re done?” He pointed to probably the largest and most terrifying ride in the entire park in the distance, and for a moment, you couldn’t respond. You’d never even thought to try it out, but now, you had to reconsider.

“I mean...I can’t guarantee I won’t vomit all over you when the ride’s over, but sure.” You handed him his hot dog, and he gave you the biggest smile you’d seen from him yet. Just the sight of it made your stomach leap and blossom into a thousand little butterflies. Or maybe that was just the burrito you had for breakfast. Either way, you already knew that you would die for this boy.

“Hell yeah! We can be vomit buddies!” He stuck his hand out for a high-five, and you accepted it with a laugh.

“That’s definitely not the cutest term to use, but okay!” He gave a quick goodbye and ran off again. 

The thought of meeting him sped through your mind until you were finally off work, and you made sure to grab your three-free-rides coupon along with your things before making your way to the rollercoaster. The sight of it was daunting, but your need to see that boy again overcame your dread.

When you got there, he was already waiting for you by the ticket booth, and waved to you as your eyes met. You hurried to his side.

“Hey! I was really hoping you’d come!” His hand came to rest on your arm, but you didn’t feel the need to move it in the slightest. 

“You thought I wouldn’t?” He took your coupon and gave it to the woman in the booth.

“Kinda. It’s not every day I get to go on rides with pretty girls!” You flushed again and laughed. He turned to the woman in the booth. “Do you think you can get us to the front of the line, Mina?” 

“You ask that every time you come here. The answer’s still no, dingus.” 

“Dang. Always worth a try.” She gave you your tickets and handed you back your coupon, which you were sure you would lose on the rollercoaster, but you tucked it into your backpocket anyhow. He led you over to the line. 

“I thought you’ve never been on this ride before?” You asked. He stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“Oh, no, I come here all the time with the boys.”

“Are they busy right now or something?” You asked, your self-doubt slowly gnawing at the butterflies in your stomach. 

“Huh? No, I just wanted to go on it with you! Silly goose.” He bumped his hip softly into yours, and you smiled at the ground. He chatted with you for the few minutes it took to get to the front of the line, and you felt your stomach drop as you were ushered into the spot next to him on the rollercoaster. He seemed to sense your doubt and slipped his hand into yours after the heavy restraint was secured over your torsos. It only helped to calm your nerves until the ride started moving.

You took a deep breath. You had your cute boy next to you, how bad could it be?

-

You pulled your head up from vomiting in the trash can. “I am never doing that again.” 

“But it was fun, right?!” He beamed, holding your hair as your head dipped again. You finished spilling your guts before he handed you a napkin to wipe your mouth. “Come on, I’ll buy you something to get that taste out of your mouth.”

He bought you a soda, and for a moment you walked with him pondering if you were supposed to say goodnight, but he put his hand on the small of your back and asked, “How about one more ride?” 

“I’m not going on another rollercoaster ever again, dude.”

“Nah, I was talking about the ferris wheel!” He pointed to it where it loomed behind the sunset in the distance, and you felt your heart speed up in your chest. “It’s a really nice night. I think you could use something to calm you down, yeah?” 

You smiled and nodded up at him. Your body was begging to go home and go to bed, but that could wait.

You finished your drink and got in line, trying not to scream like your heart wanted to when you slid into the cart seat next to him instead of the one across. He didn’t seem to mind the closeness, though, as he draped his arm over your shoulders. It occurred to you then that you’d only talked to him for two days. Oh well.

For a moment, you both fell silent as you began to ascend, staring out the window to the orange and pink-stained sky and letting yourself melt in his presence. He turned his head to look at you, and when you turned to him, you realized just how close your face was to his, but neither of you moved to distance yourselves. 

After a long moment, he said, “I really wanna kiss you.” 

You swallowed. “I mean. We’ve only known each other for like, two days, but...I really wanna kiss you too.” 

“I’m gonna kiss you,” He whispered, his other hand moving to rest on your leg. 

“You’re gonna kiss me…” And then he did, which you didn’t know why you were so surprised, but you felt your entire body sigh under his touch. It felt like happiness, and sunshine, and your first time breathing. It was like you’d been pining after him for centuries and finally got your first taste. With the way he gripped your side to pull you closer, you could feel that same desperation.

When he finally pulled away, you both took a long moment to breathe and bask in the light of it all before he said: “You wanna know something crazy?”

“Is this another fact about hot dogs?” You smiled, arms moving to wrap around his middle.

“Nah. I just realized that I don’t know your name.”

You blinked. You didn’t know his name, either.

“I mean...what’s your name, then?” You asked after the fact. 

“Kami. What about you, sweetcheeks?” 

“Y/n is fine,” You laughed, and he smiled with flushed cheeks. “Will you still come see me at work tomorrow?” 

“You know it! I better get your number first, though…” Kami pulled out his phone and you punched your number in as he did the same on yours. By the time he handed your phone back to you, the ride had already circled back to the bottom. He talked and laughed with you as he walked you back to the parking lot, his hand laced in your own, and kissed you again before saying goodnight. 

Summer break was a funny little time. For you, it meant hot dogs, yes, but it also meant meeting cute boys, and selling said cute boys hot dogs before falling in love with them. And maybe there was some sort of deeper meaning to the enigma that is the hot dog. Whatever it was, it was giving you some hella good luck with three free rides a week and a new boyfriend, so you’d stick around for now. 

-

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Classroom Abbey Bominable & Heath Burns Home Ick Journal

Okay, so I never really intended to take Home Ick. I kind of signed up by accident. I have lots of accidents. The emergency room has a seat with my name on it. Honestly - it’s a little plaque that says “Reserved for Heath Burns”. I used to think that was pretty cool until some monster told me it was like getting a trophy for being clumsy. I do that a lot it seems - thinking something is totally hot and then finding out it’s totally not. I guess it’s good I have such a short memory about the mistakes I make otherwise I’d never leave the house. What was I talking about? Oh yeah, Home Ick. I get distracted easily. I think it’s a fire elemental thing... maybe.

So the reason I’m in this class was that I was going to sign up for Metal Shop cause it’s a pretty “Heath Safe” environment and I wanted to build a killer robot suit like the one you get to pilot in this game I’ve been playing online, but then Abbey walked by, and I kind of got distracted by something I said or something she said, and I must have checked the wrong box. I mean, why else would I have gotten Home Ick on my class schedule? Manny found out and was giving me grief, so I was going to change it, but Deuce and Abbey talked me into keeping it. Deuce is like my best bro ever and Abbey is like... totally cool. She’s so tall and pretty and totally cool. Abbey also said that she wanted me in the class... well, not in so many words maybe, but I knew what she meant. I totally light her fire. 

I am thinking that maybe I was using too much of the encouragement on Heath Burns. Now he is in Home Ick class and is partner for cooking project. All I say is, “Home Ick class is not for ghouls only.” Hmmph - living in the down below is giving me avalanche of the mouth. Now grade with depend on Heath not creating huge mess and destroying project, but maybe Heath will be on best behavior, and it will all turn out to the good... right, I think abundance of down below oxygen is causing problem with clear thinking. 

Ms. Kindergrubber made me come in before class to go over safety, she did the whole lecture - wearing oven mittens. I’m not sure if she always dresses that way or if she was worried about me. Whatever. It’s not like I haven’t heard this lecture before... in every class I’ve taken at MH. I can recite almost all of them from memory cause they pretty much all go something like this: 

I can’t help it if I’m a fire elemental. I get excited and “poof” - something goes up in smoke. I almost want to change my last name to “No” since that seems to be what people call me the most; Heath No! It’s not like I torch term papers, books and other irreplaceable combustibles on purpose. I try so hard - when I think about it - not to fire up. Dad says I need to learn self-control. That’s easy for him to say since he can focus his fire down to a flame as small as a lit birthday candle even when I get excited or mad. It takes all my focus to just not melt my desk. I guess I must have said all the right things to Ms. Kindergrubber cause when we were finished she gave me a list of what I would need for class. At least I’ll get to be in the class with Abbey! Awwwww hydrogen! I wonder if I can get another copy of the list? 

If one thing I am learning about Heath Burns it is that when Heath says, “I got this.” It is meaning he does not. Like today in class we took cookies from oven before they are being done. I was putting them back when I hear Heath say those words and before I could say, “HEATH NO!” he is turning the cookies into snowman eyes. Of course he is apologizing but is also giving bad grade and setting off smokes alarm. When class is finished Ms. Kindergrubber is pulling me to side and asking if I wish to have new partner. I tell her no and that Heath and I will make up grade with killer final cooking project. I am thinking she does not believe is possible. I am thinking maybe not either but Heath is friend so will have to try. 

So after I vulcanized our cooking project yesterday Abbey called me and totally asked me out on a date! Yes! “The Heathster’s still got it,” is what I was thinking but it turned out that’s not what Abbey was thinking. She told me to meet her at Headmistress Bloodgood’s house, which I thought was kind of lame even if Abbey does live there during the school year. I said we should meet at the Maul but Abbey said I had to meet her there. I got my cousin Jackson to give me a ride cause I didn’t want to show up for a date on my bike. Jackson drives like an old monster lady but it’s way better than riding with Holt. One time I got in the car with Jackson and without thinking... natch... turned on the radio. Oh man his driving just about scared the ashes out of me. I didn’t make the same mistake today. When we got there Abbey was waiting for me along with several ice statues. I told Jackson that he didn’t have to wait but he said that he wanted to stick around and see this. Abbey asked why I was dressed up. It didn’t take me long to figure out this was not a date. It was her idea of how to help both of us out in Home Ick.

Frozen inside each of the statues was an apple. I thought this was like some kind of kung fu movie so I totally melted the first two statues, turning them into a puddle of water and a smoking apple. I started to melt the third one when Abbey yelled “Heath Burns, stop!” I stopped. She said the goal was to melt the ice without cooking the apple. If I could do this, then she had an idea for a dish that would knock Ms. Kindergrubber’s gingerbread socks off. No problem, I said. Except three hours and many apples later Abbey finally gave up. “Is no use, I am failing first monster high class ever and you will never learn self control.” There was one statue left and maybe for the first time I felt more sorry for Abbey than I did for myself. So I concentrated all my fire into one finger and carved out the apple without even singeing the stem. I held up the apple and showed it to Abbey. “Excellent work, Heath Burns, - How about we go see movie now?” I burned the apple to a crisp, but we went to the movie anyway.

Home Ick Notes

Baked Himalaya

Recipe is a little muss and a little fuss, but is worth time and effort. Reminding Heath Burns to focus was largest part of task. We practiced at home before we were having to make in class.

Baked Himalaya #1

The recipe calls for seven eggs. We were down to four after I dropped three I was juggling. Doesn’t really work with four. - Fail

Baked Himalaya #2

Heath pronounces butter and milk of yak nasty. I use anyhow. Try out finished recipe on Headmistress Bloodgood who pronounces it nasty. FAIL... a tasty fail. Mmmmm just like grandmother yeti makes at home. 

Baked Himalaya #3 Abbey thinks I should brown the meringue myself when we present it to Ms. Kindergrubber. Good thing we practiced, cause I sneezed when I tried this at home and tuned it into torched Himalaya. Fail.

Baked Himalaya #4

Perfection! Heath was focused. Was nice presentation whole class made with oohing and awing. Neither too much nor too little heat, and meringue was perfectly brown. Ms. Kindergrubber impressed by effort. A+

From Chin To Yon Rah (Part 6)

The world takes her to the seaside. It does so with a force that she doesn’t expect. But then, she hasn’t expected to stay in Wu Jing as long as she has. She isn’t sure how she had gone from vowing to be at Chin city within the week to making excuses to stay in Wu Jing. She sighs, who is she trying to fool, she knows why she has tethered herself and she is both afraid of and exhilarated by it. She was anyhow. She looks into the waves as she casts a net out. It would seem that she is no longer welcomed in Wu Jing. She supposes that it was only a matter of time before that happened. She is the only firebender in the village and not everyone takes kindly to it. She is under the impression that a good handful of them only tolerated her because they were under the impression that she’d be leaving soon.

She drags the net back in, it is significantly heavier, a good sign. “You’re a natural.” The captain comments, she helps Azula pull it back in. “You sure that you’ve never done this before?”

Azula nods.

“Maybe in a past life?”

She shakes her head, “in a past life I was a dragon.”

The woman chuckles, “ain’t mean ye couldn’t ‘a been a fisherman in a different one.”

Azula shrugs. “I suppose.” Though she sincerely doubts it.

“Yee don’t talk much.”

She shrugs. “Just here for some coin. I’m not trying to form bonds.”

“I take it the las’ bond yee formed didn’t end so well? People take to the seas when they wanna forget the land.”

“We’re on a short fishing trip, I’ll be back on land by sundown.”

“So ye ain’t runnin’ away from something?”

She empties the fish and throws the net back to the waves. The captain disappears back below deck and Azula slumps over the rails. The wind brings a flutter to her hair and the scent of fish to her nose. The ship hits a wave and the seaspray brings salt to her lips. It leaves her feeling sticky and dirty. She yearns for this trip to be over with so she can take her earnings and go. She has caught such an excess that she will no longer have to fret over meals nor the tears in her clothing and holes in her shoes.

Perhaps she has done well by leaving Ojihara and his rancid turnips. That loathsome man...She reels in her net again. She is going to be mighty sore by the end of this endeavor.

“Need some help with that?”

“I can…” she huffs. “I can do it myself.” It is a full body effort by now but she almost has her catch. She hears the ripping of a rope and curses. The Water Tribesman hustles towards the net and holds the severed ends together. He looks away just long enough. She slams a ball of fire into the rails, the kickback throws her onto her back, but the net, brimming with flopping fish, comes with her. She winces, and lays dazed for a moment.

“Are you…?”

“I’m fine.”

He casts a glance at her haul of squirming fish. “Yeah, with a catch like that I imagine you will be.”

She gets to her feet and cringes, her pants are rather uncomfortably soaked through and she hasn’t a change of clothes. She won’t have one until she makes it back to the inn.

“Have you been in our village long?”

She shakes her head. “And I won’t be staying long. I’m not a fishing village sort.”

He quirks a brow.

“I can catch a few fish, that doesn’t make me a good fit for…”

“Then perhaps you’d be suited for the Tribes?”

“Absolutely not!” She replies abruptly. “I’m not trying to stray that far from home. Even if I were, I can’t imagine that the cold would do my fire any good.”

“Well I think that you’d be good for a fishing village lifestyle.”

“Your judgement is poor.”

“So your social skills.”

She gives a haunty sniff, bristling at the odor of fish. “Which is precisely why I shouldn't join a fishing crew in the long term. I won’t have myself tethered in one place and to a handful of people.” Even as she says it she feels for the stone in her pocket. She ought to chuck it over the side of the boat.

The man’s face softens. “Can I help you collect your fish?”

“You may help me, but only because I don’t like how their scales feel.”

“I take it that you won’t be skinning them?”

Her nose crinkles, “skinning them?” She looks at her hands. They aren’t clean nor are they smooth and soft anymore. But they aren’t yet bloodstained and shredded by scales. “I am going to sell them and someone else can have the pleasure.”

“Who are you?”

“Cheyul.”

“Where do you come from, Cheyul?”

“The Fire Nation.”

“I know that. But which part.”

“Just help me with these.” She gestures to the fish. By the time they reach the docks, the fish are packed neatly into crates and ready for selling.

“Where were you before you came to this village?”

“Why do you care?” She snaps. Her eyes don’t leave the men and women working to bind their vessel to the dock.

He shrugs. “I suppose that it’s because I’ve never met someone like you before.”

“Stern, uptight, hard to get along with? Then you have met many firebenders.” She lifts one of her crates and carries it towards a one of several dockside buyers for weighing. “I’ll have more.” She mutters and the buyer nods.

The Water Tribesman manages a half smile and sets another crate down. “I was going to say guarded and...sharp. I don’t know, there’s just something different about you.”

Different, she thinks. And when she thinks of different, she thinks of the things that make her so. These are the same things that make her a monster. The same things that she is trying to out pace. The things that pursue and catch up to her no matter where she goes. “You’re like all of them.” She mutters. “I’m different and you’re like all of the rest.”

“How do you figure that?”

She sets her last crate down and stares him in the eye. “You want to get to know me and when you finally do, you realize that you were mistaken. That, that isn’t what you want at all.”

The buyer grins and hands her an extremely generously heavy pouch. She staches it away in her satchel.

“How do you figure?”

“I’ve learned to tell.” She turns from him and strides away.

“Who hurt you?” He asks.

“Who hasn’t?” She returns. And who hasn’t she hurt? Of course Ojihara would detest her. Of course they all would. And for what? Because she didn’t want to babysit his grandchild? Really it was a no win situation; either she ‘wasn’t earning her keep’ or she’d be outcast for managing to  traumatize the child. Decidedly, she hates children. Loathes them. They are needy and fussy and all too curious.

“So you left because you’ve been hurt? Where are you going to go and how long do you think those coins are going to last?”

And adults are even worse.

“They’ll last me long enough to find another quick job.” She hastens her pace. “It’s none of your concern.”

“So you’re just going to keep on running?” The man asks. “I thought that firebenders were supposed to be brave and head on. A tribesman...we stick to our values.”

“You assume I have values.” She cuts herself short before she can add, ‘of my own.’ It might be that he is right, at least to some degree; perhaps she should return to the Fire Nation and concede. She has gone searching for something and she hasn’t found it. She hasn’t even figured out what she is searching for. It might be that her purpose, her destiny lies in a cell or a padded room.

“You don’t have anything that keeps you attached to anywhere?” His tone softens.

“I’ve got nothing at all.” She takes another step. The stone in her pocket knocks against her leg.

That night she learns the depth of a small thing.

.oOo.

She studies herself in the mirror. Her reflection is elegant and pretty, decorated and done up to the fullest. Rubies on golden chains sparkle on her ears, her fingers, and around her neck. They glisten in her hair and shimmer on the bulky silk folds of her gown. They have, once again, evened the color of her skin and crafted a sharpness to her eyes and lips. It is almost as though she has never left at all. She thought that it would have been comforting to revel in a vision of the past. To see her old, unblemished face peering prestinly back at her. It only feels as though she has erased something...

“Satisfied?”

Azula rubs her lips together and shakes her head.

“What is it? Do you want us to apply more makeup?”

She shakes her head vigorously.

“Less?”

She hesitates. She nods.

“You’re not backing out, are you?” Zuko asks.

“Why would you think that?”

“You’re having your makeup washed off.”

“I wanted less of it.”

He furrows his brows as her servants remove a healthy layer of concealer.

“I thought that you…”

“They will be staring at me from a rather large distance. They won’t notice much.”

The clean layer and layer away to her satisfaction. Until she is almost barefaced. Until a touch of eyeshadow, eyeliner, and lipstick remain. She brushes her fingers over her cheek.

The servants exit and a team of fire sages come to take their place. “Lo and Li will begin the introductions, you will emerge when they speak your name. We recommend that you start making your way to the balcony…”

She lets the man finish but she knows the workings of it well enough. With her nod the sage replies, “I shall tell them to begin.”

It is Sokka who fills their vacancy. “You look nice.” He smiles.

She clasps her hands over her knee. “Thank you.”

“You’re really tense.”

“It’s my natural state.”

He chuckles though she isn’t joking.

“Are you sure that you don’t want me or Zuko to accompany you?”

“I don’t need hand holding, Sokka.” She doesn’t quite mean it but she speaks with an extra bite.

“Just...ya know offering.”

“Offering once was plenty.” A series of claps accent her words and she knows that the twins have made it to the balcony.

“I can also come out if you’d like.”

“I don’t need your coddling either, Zuzu.” Doesn’t need it and feels sick at the thought of having it. Of standing rather plainly next to him in his opulent and awestiking regalia. Of being quite ordinary and unaccomplished. She faintly wonders if he had thought the same during his homecoming.

“We have searched every stretch of our Nation and beyond our land. Our search had turned up nothing and we had assumed the worst.” There is no glory to boast. No heroic deeds to tell of. Nothing substantial at all really. Nothing worth announcing. “What we have found is that a phoenix can rise back on its own.” They make it sound more glorious than it is. Azula supposes that, that is their job. She rises, her stomach gives a small flop. Zuko offers her an encouraging smile and Sokka mouths a good luck.

They pause and she pauses, hand gripping the fabric of the curtain. She closes her eyes.

“Now after six long years,” Lo says.

“She is ready to return to the public’s eye!” Li finishes.

“Your princess, Azula!” They both finish.

She gently pushes the curtain aside and slips onto the balcony. Her eyes scan a wholly silent crowd. She isn’t surprised to be met with a very un-Fire Nation coldness. Her footfalls echo about the plaza as she makes her way to the railing. Her hands curl around them, the wind stirs her hair chopsticks, sending their lavish ornamentation tinkling. And then the crowd erupts. Not into the hateful sneers and yells that she had anticipated but a rather thunderous clapping. They are pridefully noisy, it is almost dizzying. She grips the rails tighter. And tighter still when she looks off into the distance and sees that the statue of her father has been demolished, probably melted down and reshaped into one of Zuko.

“Would you like to address your people?” The twins offer.

Azula’s stomach lurches a second time. They haven’t told her that she was to do so, though she supposed that she should have figured as much. She almost shakes her head but the crowd falls silent again. And she is silent. The world is all too still.

Her lips part and she tilts her head up, bearing the scar on her neck, and inhales through her nose. “I have been to a good many places.” She says at last as she peers over the crowd. It is very different from when she has last stood up here. Spots of green and blue mix with red. Eyes of gold, green, and blue fix on her with anticipation. “It is a pleasure to be home again. Home in the greatest nation with a rekindled knowledge that the Fire Nation is the crown jewel of the world.” She pauses, almost leaving it at that. Her fingers brush over one of the two trinkets she has tucked into her gown. She has garnered another round of approving claps and remarks, mostly from the red specks. She waits for them to go silent. “Though I suppose that there are many other jewels that are tantalizing in their own respects.” And now the blue and green join.

She reaches into the folds of her gown and feels for her stone. She grips it tightly while holding her head high until the twins beckon for her to return inside. “You will be seeing more of me.” She concludes as her subjects bow.

“You did amazing!” Sokka exclaims.

“I hardly did anything at all.” Azula shrugs. “These things are all for show.”

“They weren’t booing you.”

“Is that the reception you tend to get?”

“People love me!” Sokka declares.

“If you say so.”

.oOo.

“You feel better now, don’t you?”

Azula reclines on the sofa and lets her hair down. It is true, she does feel much less tense now that a public appearance isn’t looming over her head. “I feel well enough Sokka.” It very much helps to be out of that gown and in something less excessive, less restrictive. She rests her head upon the arm rest and closes her eyes.

“You are happy to be back, right?” Zuko asks.

“Why does everyone ask so many questions?”

“Because you’re hard to read and don’t give clear answers the first time around.”

“I just got back, Zuzu. I haven’t decided how I feel about it.”

“Oh come on, you can’t tell me that you don’t enjoy the pampering!” Sokka declares as he quite brazenly takes a seat. He doesn’t wait for her to move her legs, opting to simply sit on them instead. She frowns and gives him a rather solid kick. He jolts and she curls her legs up. He sits back down.

“It is nice.” She replies. “I missed being clean.” She brings her sleeve to her nose and inhales the fresh scent of various flora.

“I liked your speech.”

“It wasn’t much of a speech. Just a few carefully selected words.” Though careful is a bit of a stretch considering that she hadn’t pre-prepared them.

“It was still nice.” Sokka says.

She shrugs.

“Can you tell us about what you did in the Earth Kingdom?”

“Is lunch almost ready? I’m quite hungry.” She moves her hand from behind her head to her belly. “Dumplings would be nice.” She hasn’t had them in ages. Not fresh and steaming to palace perfection.

“Sure, I’ll let the cooks know that, that’s what you want.” Zuko replies. “It’ll be nice to sit at the table together again. Mai and TyLee will be there.”

“Of course.” She says simply. She snatches up one of the decorative pillows and holds it to her chest. She wonders how it is that she had come to expect that she wouldn’t be seeing either of them again. She wonders how it will be received if she simply stole away in the night and disappeared again.

FFT: expecting someone taller; captain boomerang

Notes:

So idk where this one was going or anything. All I know is that I got this fake fic title and I got this idea, so I rolled with it bc there is not that much Captain Boomerang fic and I absolutely fucking adore the way Jai played him, tbh. So, maybe in the future you’ll see more Digger content here, idk.

Summary:

Vanessa is not a fan of blind dates. So when she’s roped into one by her friend Donna, she expects a 5 alarm failure. What she gets instead, purely by happy accident is a night with Boomerang himself.

Warnings:

uhh.. Digger being Digger, slightest alcohol tw - because location is a bar/nightclub and.. that’s it.

Pairing:

Captain Boomerang x OFC, Vanessa

“ This blind date was a bad idea. You know my luck, this is going to end badly. Either it’ll be awkward as hell or he’ll be a self absorbed jackass like Tom or I’ll drink way too much red wine and throw up all over the guy…” Vanessa could feel her best friend giving her the eye, so she trailed off after finishing weakly, “I’m just saying, it was stupid of me, letting you guys talk me into making a stupid dating profile. I suck at this and I attract the worst…”

“We accept the love we think we deserve. Just trust me. Tonight is going to be great.” Donna replied to her friend’s rambling. “Now the text said he’d be the guy in the black blazer… I wonder..” Donna’s eyes darted around the nightclub, particularly the VIP area, because that’s where Pierre, the guy she’d set her best friend up with tended to prefer hanging out when he came to this particular nightclub.

As Donna was scouring the VIP section, Vanessa’s eyes were also darting around, searching for any sort of an exit she could use if the date went south like so many of her others tended to. She spotted the man in the black blazer hanging towards one of the side doors and she swallowed hard.

“Wish me luck, Donna.”

“Huh?” Donna had just spotted Pierre, her friend’s blind date for the evening and she was just about to wave him over to their table and introduce Vanessa to him, but Vanessa was standing and moving quickly through the crowd towards the back of the club.

“Shit, she’s bolting. I knew she’d bolt.” Donna stood too, but Pierre reached the table just as she did and he let out a low approving whistle. “You look sexy tonight.”

Vanessa spotted the man again, just about to step out into the alley, and she tapped his shoulder cautiously.

Digger Harkness nearly jumped out of his skin and swearing, he whirled around. He’d been prepared to either throw a punch and run or chew out whomever had come up on him like they had, but all that changed as soon as he saw her standing there.

The girl from the dance studio just down from the bank he’d been casing -and had coincidentally just robbed, hence the need to steal someone’s jacket in the cloak room and try to hide out in the crowd until the cops were long gone. The one he’d spent way too much time lurking in the hallway watching after he’d gotten done casing the bank for the day.

“Wow… I.. Hi. You look nothing like Donna said you would. I’m Vanessa… Your blind date?”

Digger raised a brow and he started to say something, to clear up whatever it was she thought, but something inside him decided better of it. Instead, he leaned in a little, chuckling.

“What? Were y’ expectin someone taller, luv?” he asked, going into full on Boomerang charmer mode, something he hadn’t done in a while. Though she wouldn’t know it.

Vanessa gave a quiet giggle and shrugged. He towered over her -and it wouldn’t matter anyhow, she wasn’t very big on judging by appearance alone. He seemed excited.

Or maybe he was nervous?

Digger leaned in, muttering against her ear, “Do y’ want t’ dance?”

“I’d love that.”

His thought was that if he kept moving, if he kept himself towards the back of the club, then any cops who may come into the club searching for him wouldn’t see him and he wouldn’t have to pass up the chance to spend time with Vanessa. When she agreed to dance with him, Digger was quick to pull her close, keeping his back to the front of the club.

Something seemed off but Vanessa wasn’t too concerned with it. After all, this blind date had already beaten the others she’d been on as of late. The guy seemed nice enough, if not a little fidgety.

When his hand migrated down, gripping and squeezing her ass to hold her closer, she rested her face against his chest and he made this quiet noise, kind of like a groan.

That rough hand gripped at her body tighter and she sucked in a ragged breath as the end result was her, being rubbed right against his muscular frame. She tilted her head to look up at him and he leaned down a little, muttering quietly against her lips, “Havin a good time?”

“I am.”

“Me too.”

Just as he caught sight of the cops talking to the doorman, he swore to himself quietly.

“Think y’ might want t’ leave with me? Go for a walk?”

“I’d like that.” Vanessa let him lead her out of the club and he did so in a hurry. It was almost enough that she asked what the hurry was, but something told her that the less she knew, the better. She’d promised to at least try to give this blind date a chance, and so far, she’d been pleasantly surprised. Once they were outside in the alley, Digger pulled her against him, his arms going around her because he could see her shivering a little in the cold night air. He finally wound up shrugging off the black blazer and draping it around her shoulders as he stared at her for a few seconds, not saying anything.

“Is everything okay? You seemed kinda… Nervous?” Vanessa asked the question before she could stop herself and she felt a wave of relief wash over her when he was quick to reassure, “Oh yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Just not all ‘at into crowds.” as he slipped his arm around her and they started to walk down the alley.

“Oh god, me either. I had to be talked into coming on our blind date tonight. I’m a disaster.”

Digger shook his head and chuckled quietly. He’d feel bad for the man who was supposed to be on a date with her, but honestly, he couldn’t be bothered to do so. Everything happened for a reason.

Or so Digger was choosing to believe.

“ Yer not.”

“You have no idea.”

“Well, I’m willin t’ bet yer not. And I plan t’ find out.” Digger pulled her closer against his side. Sirens screamed past the end of the alley and out of habit, Digger pressed against the wall and pulled her against him, Vanessa was now looking at him with a raised brow.

Digger shrugged and explained in the simplest terms, “ I’m not a fan of authority.”

“Ooh, a bad boy.” Vanessa wanted to kick herself, she barely knew this guy and here she was, flirting like this. Digger chuckled and leaned down slightly, staring intently at her mouth, “Y’ like bad boys, hmm?”

“Maybe.”

“Then yer really goin t’ have fun. Let’s get goin.”

“Where?” Vanessa asked as he chuckled, leaning in closer, pressing the side of his finger into her soft red lips, “It’s a surprise, luv. We’ve got all th’ time in th’ world. Let’s just get lost, yeah?”

October 21

The Things are getting restless, but their restraints still serve. I stopped by Larry’s place this morning, to suggest he answer to the name “Lucky,” if so addressed by any woodsy denizen in his wanderings. This necessitated my giving him a little background concerning speculations as to his status. He’s agreed to be even more circumspect in his comings and goings. I filled him in on all the rest, too, since I considered us partners.

Everything, that is, save for Linda Enderby’s true identity. I was loath to destroy his illusions concerning the genial old lady whose company had given him such pleasure. Whatever had been learned there had been learned — and I doubted it could have been much in such a bizarre case as his, with him so guarded concerning it — and letting him live a little longer with his fond memory of the visit did not seem much in the way of risk taking. I resolved to wait a few days before revealing the deception.

“Hear anything more about the police and their search?” I asked.

“They’re still investigating, but they seem to have questioned everyone and now they’ve started searching fields along the way. I think the latest theory is that the officer might have been thrown from his horse — which did make it back to their stables.”

“I guess he didn’t wash up. Maybe he made it out to sea.”

“Possibly. I’m sure they’d be looking at any washups pretty closely.”

“I wonder what this beating of the bushes might mean to the Count, if they go very far afield?”

“I’ll bet if you check today you’ll find he’s moved.”

“So you think he has another place, too?”

“Of course. That’s his style. And he has the right idea. Everyone should have a place to run to. You can never be too careful.”

“Do you?”

He smiled.

“I hope you do, too,” he said. When I smile no one can tell.

I went looking for Graymalk then, to see whether I could persuade her to climb down into the crypt for me again. But she wasn’t anywhere about. Finally, I gave up and wandered over to Rastov’s place.

Quicklime wasn’t readily available either, and I began rearing up and peering in windows. I spotted Rastov himself, slouched in a chair, vodka bottle in one hand, what might be his icon clutched to his breast with the other. Something stirred on the windowsill and I realized it to be my erstwhile partner. Quicklime raised his head, stared at me, then gestured with his head toward the adjacent room. At that, he slid from the sill and was gone.

I made my way back to the near window of that room, which was opened slightly. Moments later, he emerged.

“Hi, Quick,” I said. “How’s it going?”

“Sometimes I wish I were back in the fields again,” he replied. “I’d be getting ready for a long winter’s sleep.”

“Bad night?”

“I got out just in time. He’s at it again. Drinking and singing sad songs. He could get us into a lot of trouble when he’s had too much. He’d better be sober for the big night.”

“I should hope so.”

We went off toward the rear of the place.

“Busy?” he asked me.

“Believe it.”

“Listen, Snuff, the boss doesn’t tell me everything, and Nightwind said — just a day or two back — that there are divinatory ways for discovering whether someone’s an opener or a closer. Is that true?”

“He’s right,” I said. “But they’re unreliable before the death of the moon. You really have to have some juice to make them work.”

“How soon after?”

“Several days.”

“So people could be finding out everyone’s status pretty soon?”

“Yes, they will. They always do. That’s why it’s important to finish any mutual business before then. Once the lines are drawn, your former partners may be your new enemies.”

“I don’t like the idea of having you or Nightwind for an enemy.”

“It doesn’t follow that we have to kill each other before the big event. In fact, I’ve always looked on such undertakings as a sign of weakness.”

“But there’s always some killing.”

“So I’ve heard. Seems a waste of energy, though, when such things will be taken care of at the end, anyhow.”

“…And half of us will die in the backlash from the other half’s winning.”

“It’s seldom a fifty-fifty split of openers and closers. You never know what the

disposition will be, or who will finally show up. I heard there was once an attempt where everyone withdrew on the last day. Nobody showed. Which was wrong, too. Think of it. Any one of them with guts enough could have had it his own way.”

“How soon till the word gets out, Snuff?”

“Pretty soon. I suppose someone could be working on it right now.”

“Do you know?”

“No. I’ll know soon enough. I don’t like knowing till I have to.”

He crawled up onto an old tree stump. I sat down on the ground beside him.

“For one thing,” I said, “it would interfere in my asking you to do something just now.”

“What,” he said, “is it?”

“I want you to come back with me to the crypt and check it out. I want to know whether the Count’s still there.”

He was silent, turning in the sunlight, scales shimmering. “No,” he said then. “We don’t have to go.”

“Why not?”

“I already know that he’s not there.”

“How do you know this?”

“I was out last night,” he said, “and I hung myself in a plum tree I’d learned Needle frequents when he feeds. When he came by I said, ‘Good evening, Needle.’

“‘Quicklime, is that you?’ he answered.

“‘Indeed,’ I replied, ‘and how go your farings?’

“‘Well. Well,’ he said. ‘And your own twisting ways?’

“‘Oh, capital,’ I answered. ‘I take it you have come to feed?’

“‘Yes. I always come here last, for these plums are my favorites and put a fine end to a harvesting of bugs. I prefer saving the best for last.’

“‘As it should be,’ I said, ‘with all endeavors. Tell me’ — for I was wise in these ways now, having lived with Rastov — ‘have you ever sampled the long-fallen plums, those which look wrinkled, ruined, and unappetizing?’

“‘No,’ he replied, ‘that would be silly, when so many good ones still hang upon the tree.’

“‘Ah,’ I told him, ‘but looks may be deceptive, and “good“ is certainly a relative term.’

“‘What do you mean?’ he asked.

“‘I, too, enjoy the fruits,’ I said, ‘and I have learned their secret. Those over yonder on the ground are far better than those which hang yet upon the limbs.’

“‘How can that be?’ he said.

“‘The secret is that as they lie there, cut off forever from the source of their existence, they draw upon their remaining life to continue a new kind of growth. True, the effects wither them, but they ferment from their own beings a new and special elixir, superior to the simple juices of those upon the tree.’

“‘They taste a lot better?’

“‘No. They do not. This goes beyond mere taste. It is a thing of the spirit.’

“‘I guess I ought to try it, then.’

“‘You will not be disappointed. I recommend it highly.’

“So he descended to the earth, came upon one of those I had indicated, and bit into it.

“‘Agh!’ he exclaimed. ‘These are no good! Overripe and — ’

“‘Give it a chance,’ I said. ‘Take more, swallow it down, and then some more. Wait just a bit.’

“And he sampled again, and again.

“A little later, he said, ‘I feel slightly dizzy. But it is not unpleasant. In fact — ’

“He tried another, suddenly more enthusiastic. Then another.

“‘Quicklime, you were right,’ he said after a while. ‘There is something very special about them. There is a warm feeling — ’

“‘Yes,’ I answered.

“‘And the dizziness is not quite dizziness. It feels good.’

“‘Take more. Take lots more,’ I told him. ‘Go with it as far as it will take you.’

“Shortly, his words grew harder to understand, so that I had to slide down from the tree to be sure I heard everything he said when I began, ‘You were with the Count when he created his new graves, were you not..?’

“And so I learned their locations, and that he was moving to one last night,” he finished.

“Well done,” I said. “Well done.”

“I hope he didn’t awaken feeling the way I did the other morning. I did not linger, for I gather it is a bad thing to see snakes when you are in that condition. At least, Rastov says it is. With me, it was humans that I saw last time — all those passing Gipsies. Then yourself, of course.”

“How many graves are there besides the crypt?”

“Two,” he said. “One to the southwest, the other to the southeast.”

“I want to see them.”

“I’ll take you. The one to the southwest is nearer. Let’s go there first.”

We set out, crossing a stretch of countryside I had not visited before. Eventually, we came to a small graveyard, a rusted iron fence about it. The gate was not secured, and I shouldered it open.

“This way,” Quicklime said, and I followed him.

He led me to a small mausoleum beside a bare willow tree.

“In there,” he said. “The vault to the right is opened. There is a new casket within.”

“Is the Count inside it?”

“He shouldn’t be. Needle said he’d be sleeping at the other one.”

I entered nevertheless and pawed at the lid for some while before I found a way to open it. When I did, it came up quite easily. It was empty, except for a handful or two of dirt at its bottom.

“It looks like the real thing,” I said. “Take me to the other one now.”

We set off on the longer trek, and as we went I asked, “Did Needle tell you when these graves were established?”

“Several weeks ago,” he answered.

“Before the dark of the moon?”

“Yes. He was very insistent on the point.”

“This will ruin my pattern,” I said, “and everything seemed such a perfect fit.”

“Sorry.”

“You’re sure that’s what he said?”

“Positive.”

“Damn.”

The sun shone brightly, though there were clouds about — and, of course, a goodly cluster off toward the Good Doctor’s place, farther south — and there came a bit of chill with a northerly breeze. We made our way cross-country through the colors of autumn— browns, reds, yellows — and the ground was damp, though not spongy. I inhaled the odors of forest and earth. Smoke curled from a single chimney in the distance, and I thought about the Elder Gods and wondered at how they might change things if the way were opened for their return. The world could be a good place or a nasty place without supernatural intervention; we had worked out our own ways of doing things, defined our own goods and evils. Some gods were great for individual ideals to be aimed at, rather than actual ends to be sought, here and now. As for the Elders, I could see no profit in intercourse with those who transcend utterly. I like to keep all such things in abstract, Platonic realms and not have to concern myself with physical presences…I breathed the smells of woodsmoke, loam, and rotting windfall apples, still morning-rimed, perhaps, in orchard’s shade, and saw a high, calling flock V-ing its way to the south. I heard a mole, burrowing beneath my feet…

“Does Rastov drink like that every day?” I asked.

“No,” Quicklime replied. “He only started on Moon-death Eve.”

“Has Linda Enderby visited him?”

“Yes. They had a long talk about poetry and someone named Pushkin.”

“Do you know whether she got a look at the Alhazred Icon?”

“So you know we have it…No, drunk or sober, he wouldn’t show it to anybody till

the time of its need.”

“When I was looking for you earlier, I saw him holding what looked like an icon. Is it on wood, about three inches high, nine inches long?”

“Yes, and he did have it out from its hiding place today. Whenever he feels particularly depressed he says that it cheers him up to ‘go to the shores of Hali and consider the enactments of ruin’ and then to contemplate the uses he has for it all.”

“That could almost be taken as a closer’s statement,” I said.

“I sometimes think you’re a closer, Snuff.”

Our eyes met, and I halted. At some point, you have to take a chance.

“I am,” I said.

“Damn! We’re not alone then!”

“Let’s keep it quiet,” I said. “In fact, let’s not speak of it again.”

“But you can at least tell me whether you know if any of the others are.”

“I don’t,” I said.

I started forward again. A small plunge taken, a small victory grasped. We passed a pair of cows, heads down, munching. A small roll of thunder came from the Good Doctor’s direction. Looking left, I could make out my hill, which I’d named Dog’s Nest.

“Is this one farther south than the other?” I asked, as we turned onto a lane which led in that direction.

“Yes,” he hissed.

I kept trying to visualize the pattern tugged in new directions by these new foci of residence. It was irritating to keep finding and losing candidates for center. It seemed almost as if the forces were playing games with me. And it was especially difficult to keep surrendering ones that seemed eminently appropriate.

At last our way took us to what seemed like somebody’s family plot. Only, the family it belonged to was long gone. A collapsed building lay upon a nearby hilltop. Barely a foundation, really, was what remained. And I saw that the remains of the family had been adopted, when Quicklime led me into the overgrown graveyard, all but the eastern side of its fence fallen, and that side atilt.

He led me among tall grasses to a great stone slab. There were signs of recent digging about the perimeter it had covered, and the stone had been raised and offset to the side, leaving a narrow opening through which I knew I must squeeze.

I stuck my nose inside and sniffed. Dust.

“Want me to check it out?” Quicklime said.

“Let’s both go down,” I replied. “After this walk, I at least want a look.”

I went through and descended a series of uneven steps. There was a puddle at the bottom and I stepped over it. There were others about, too, and I couldn’t avoid them all. It was dark, but eventually I made out an opened casket set up in a raised area. Another had been moved aside to make room for it.

I approached to sniff about the thing. What odors I might have sought, I’m not sure. The Count had been scentless on the night we had met, a very disconcerting thing to one of my temperament and olfactory equipment. As I drew nearer and my vision cleared, I wondered why he had left the lid open. It seemed most inappropriate for one of his persuasion.

Rearing up, I placed a forepaw on the casket’s side and looked down into the interior.

Quicklime, nearby, said, “What is it?” and I realized that I had made a small woofing sound.

“The Game has grown more serious,” I answered.

He climbed up to the ledge, then mounted the end of the casket where he hovered, looking like Pharaoh’s headdress.

“Oh my!” he said then.

A skeleton lay within, atop a long black cloak. It still had on a suit of dark garments, somewhat in disarray now, opened in front. Splitting the sternum was a large wooden stake, angled slightly, passing far down, missing the backbone to the left. There was considerable dry dust within and without.

“Looks like the new site wasn’t as secret as he’d thought,” I said.

“Wonder whether he was an opener or a closer?” Quicklime said.

“I’d’ve guessed ‘opener,’” I said, “but I suppose we’ll never know.”

“Who do you think nailed him?”

“I’ve no idea, yet,” I said, lowering myself and turning away. I squinted into nooks and fissures then. “See Needle anywhere about?” I asked.

“No. You think they got him, too?”

“Could be. If he turns up, though, he’ll certainly bear questioning.” I climbed the stair and emerged into light. I started walking back.

“What happens now?” Quicklime asked.

“I have to make my rounds,” I said.

“Do we just go on and wait for it to happen again?”

“No. We exercise caution.”

We slithered and trotted back to our own area.

 Jack was out, and I took care of business about the house and went looking for Graymalk to fill her in on the latest. Was surprised to encounter Jack engaged in conversation with Crazy Jill on her back step. He had in his hand a cup of sugar which he had presumably just borrowed. He ended the conversation and turned away as I approached. Graymalk was nowhere about. Jack told me as I walked him home that we might ride into town for supplies of a mundane nature sometime soon.

Later, I was out front, still looking for Graymalk, when the Great Detective’s coach passed, him still in his Linda Enderby guise. Our eyes met and held for several long seconds. Then he was gone.

I went back inside and took a long nap.

I awoke near dusk and made the rounds again. The Things in the Mirror were still clustered, and pulsing lightly. The flaw appeared slightly larger, though this could have been a trick of memory and imagination. I resolved to call it to Jack’s attention soon, however.

Eating and drinking and passing outside then, I sought Graymalk once more. I found her in her front yard doing catnappery on the steps.

“Hello. Looked for you earlier,” I said. “Missed you.”

She yawned and stretched, cleaned her shoulders.

“I was out,” she responded, “checking around the church and the vicarage.”

“Did you get inside?”

“No. Looked into every opening I could, though.”

“Learn anything interesting?”

“The vicar keeps a skull on the desk in his study.”

“Memento mori,” I remarked. “Churchmen are sometimes big on that sort of thing. Maybe it came with the place as a part of the furnishings.”

“It’s resting in the bowl.”

“The bowl?”

“The bowl. The old pentacle bowl they talk about.”

“Oh.” So I’d been wrong in assigning that tool to the Good Doctor. “That accounts for an item.” Then, disingenuously, “Now, if you can tell me where the two wands are . . .” I said.

She gave me a strange look and continued grooming herself.

“…And I had to climb the outside of the place,” she said.

“Why?”

“I heard someone crying upstairs. So I made my way up the siding and looked in what seemed the proper window. I saw a girl on a bed. She had on a blue dress, and there was a long chain around her ankle. The other end was attached to the bed frame.”

“Who was it?”

“Well, I met Tekela a little later,” she went on. “I don’t think she was too eager to talk to a cat. Still, I persuaded her to tell me that the girl is Lynette, the daughter of the vicar’s late wife Janet by a previous marriage.”

“Why was she chained up?”

“Tekela said that she was being disciplined for attempting to run away.”

“Very suspicious. How old is she?”

“Thirteen.”

“Yes. Just right. Sacrifice, of course.”

“Of course.”

“What did you give her for the information?”

“I told her the story of our encounter with the big man the other night — and the possibility that the Gipsies may be associated with the Count.”

“I’d better tell you something about the Count,” I said, and I detailed my investigations with Quicklime.

“No matter whose side he was on, I can’t say I’m sorry to see him out of the picture,” she said. “He was extremely frightening.”

“You met him?”

“I saw him one night, departing that first crypt. I’d hidden myself on a tree limb, to watch it happen. He seemed to ooze up out of there as if he weren’t really moving any muscles, just flowing, the way Quicklime can do. Then he stood there a moment with his cloak flapping about him in the wind, turning his head, looking at the world as if he owned it and was deciding what part of it would amuse him just then. And then he laughed. I’ll never forget that sound. He just threw his head back and barked — not the way you do, unless you’ve a special way of barking just before you eat something that might not want to be eaten, and that this pleases you, adds to the flavor. Then he moved, and it played tricks with my eyes. He was different things, different shapes, flapping cloak all about — even in different places at the same time — and then he was gone, like a piece of the cloak sailing away in the moonlight. I wasn’t unhappy to see him go.”

“I never saw anything that dramatic,” I said. “But I met him at even closer quarters, and I was impressed.” I paused, then, “Did Tekela give you anything besides the story on Lynette?” I asked.

“Everyone seems to be onto the idea of the old manse as the center now,” she said. “The vicar told her that it had served a much larger church, south of here, in the old days — one that the last Henry had ruined, as an example to the others that he meant business.”

“That makes it such a good candidate that I’m irritated at the Count’s bad taste in throwing off the calculations.”

“Have you figured the new site yet?”

“No. I should be about that pretty soon, though.”

“You’ll let me know?”

“I’ll take you with me when I do it,” I offered.

“When will that be?”

“Probably tomorrow. I was just going to walk up the road to see the Gipsies now.”

“Why?”

“They’re sometimes colorful. You can come along if you like.”

“I will.”

We headed on up the road. It was another clear-skied night, with multitudes of stars. I could hear a distant music as we neared Larry’s place. Beyond, I could make out the glow of bonfires. As we continued, I could distinguish the sounds of violin, guitar, tambourine, and a single drum within the music. We drew nearer, coming at last to a hiding place beneath a caravan, from which we could watch. I smelled dogs, but we were downwind and none bothered us.

Several older Gipsy women were dancing and there was suddenly a singer making wailing sounds. The music was stirring, the dancers’ movements stylized, like the steps of long-legged birds I’d seen in warmer climes. There were many fires, and from some of them came the smells of cooking. The spectacle was as much a thing of the shadows as the light, however, and I rather liked the wailing, being something of a connoisseur when it comes to barks and howls. We watched for some time, taken by the bright colors of the dancers’ and players’ garments as much as by the movements and the sounds.

They played several tunes, and then the fiddler gestured toward a knot of spectators, holding out his instrument and pointing to it. I heard a sound of protest, but he insisted, and finally a woman moved forward into the light. It was several moments before I realized it to be Linda Enderby. Obviously, the Great Detective was making yet another of his social calls. Back in the shadows, I could now make out the short, husky form of his companion.

Over several protests, he accepted the violin and bow, touched the strings, then cradled the instrument as if he knew its kind well. He raised the bow, paused for a long moment, and then began to play.

He was good. It was not Gipsy music, but was some old folk tune I’d heard somewhere before. When it was done he moved immediately into another on which he worked several variations. He played and he played, and it grew wilder and wilder —

Abruptly, he halted and took a step, as if suddenly moving out of a dream. He bowed then and returned the instrument to its owner, his movements in that moment entirely masculine. I thought of all the controlled thinking, the masterfully developed deductions, which had served to bring him here, and then this — this momentary slipping into the wildness he must keep carefully restrained — and then seeing him come out of it, smiling, becoming the woman again. I saw in this the action of an enormous will, and suddenly I knew him much better than as the pursuing figure of many faces. Suddenly I knew that he had to be learning, as we were learning other aspects, of the scope of our enterprise, that he could well be right behind us at the end, that he was almost, in some way, a player — more a force, really — in the Game, and I respected him as I have few beings of the many I have known.

Later, as we walked back, Graymalk said, “It was good to get away for a time.”

“Yes,” I said, “it was,” and I regarded the sky, where the moon was growing.

A/N: Disclaimer for eating disorder. If you are sensitive to the topic then please be warned. I know there are different kinds and different ways people feel about them. This is just my rendition in this story.

His voice was irritating me. I keep my face neutral as I look at my boyfriend across the table. My hand grips the fork just a little harder as I stab the utensil into the food for the umpteenth time already. I didn't understand why it was annoying me, it just was. I don't even understand why he's talking so much today. That's a lie. I do understand why. It's one of those stupid coping tricks they teach you in therapy in order to help distract you. That's probably why it's annoying me. I know he's only talking to me this much because he's noticed my struggle. He's attempting to distract me so I can finish my meal. He's already done with his food. He's been done with his food for 45 minutes now and I've barely made it halfway. Nonetheless he acts like he doesn't mind the slow pace and continues to talk away about his time with the boys at training practice today.

I look back down at my food. My lips flatten into a line and inhale deeply. I sigh. Yoongi notices the light sound and he momentarily pauses and glances over at me. He continues his story.

"I know I'm not the best dancer, but I wish they would stop putting me next to hoseok because he makes me look worse. I don't how he can get his hips to-"

"Yoongi… please shut up." I whisper, not even looking up at him.

He makes a small uncertain noise of surprise, but closes his mouth anyway. He didn't take it personally. At this point he watches me silently. I continue to take small bites of my food.

I hear him sigh and I glance up at him. He’s making that face again. That face like he wants to say something, but holds back. I decide to ignore it and stare back down at my food. I’ve made it a little over half way now and I can’t stand to see the white porcelain peeking out from underneath the meal. 

My stomach feels extended and it makes me feel sick. It makes me nervous and tense. I know it’s irrational. I know my mind is confused and I just need to focus on what they taught me in recovery. I don’t know how many times Yoongi came with me to therapy. He sat through the long drawn out therapy groups that talked about how eating disorders make our minds think, what behaviors to look out for and how to support us, even if it didn’t all make sense to him. In fact, some of it actually sounded downright ridiculous to him. Yoongi, himself, actually didn’t even eat much and worked mostly,  so he found it a little bit of a burden to have to find time in his schedule to sit down and eat with me and keep me accountable… but he did it anyway because he loved me and wanted to support me. I told him that I could find someone else to eat with if his schedule was too much, but he always made time. His only response being “I need to go back to my roots of eating at a table with my family anyway. Quality time is important and the boys are always telling me I need to eat more, anyhow.” I’ve been in recovery for my eating disorder for 4 months 2 weeks 2 days 13 hours and 36 minutes. It seems like every minute that I have to battle my own mind and suck it up is a struggle. It almost seems like a sick game. How long can I go without hiding food or sticking my fingers down my throat? How long can I go before I screw up and I'm dumped back under constant 24/7 supervision and someone has to follow me to the bathroom? How long can I go until I fail? They keep telling me that everything will be better once I get into a routine and my body gets used to food again, but I don’t think I can make it that far. I feel like I'm spiraling out of control. I feel like everyone else is in control of a life that should  be mine. It should be only mine and no one should be able to tell me how to live my life or what I can and can’t do to my body.

“(Y/N)...” Yoongi’s voice breaks me from my vicious thoughts. Apparently I was sitting frozen with my fork floating just before my mouth and my eyes dazed off into the distance. My eyes snapped to Yoongi across the table. He’s staring at me with a concerned look. “You’re crying.” he says gently. It was only then did I notice the cold wet feeling on my cheeks. I momentarily stayed frozen in my position keeping my wild gaze on Yoongi. Then I gently sit up straighter and gently set my fork down making it clink onto the plate. I press my lips firmly together as I stare back at him. My hand clenched tightly into a fist and my nails dug into my palm. Yoongi’s concerned face morphs into one of determination. It was almost like he could read my mind. Like he knew what I felt like doing. His eyes narrow slightly and he speaks firmly.

“ Don’t.”

There was silence. I stared at him and he stared back at me. It’s like all noise was muted out and there was only thick, tense, silence. I panicked.

Then I bolted. I pushed my chair with such quickness that it caused a burst of air to push my hair forward. The chair screeched across the floor and left black skid marks across the floor. The force of my body caused my plate of food to knock on the floor and the table to push roughly against Yoongi’s stomach. The air was momentarily knocked out of him and I was able to use that moment to make my escape from the table and take off. It was a second and only a second before Yoongi had recovered, shot up from the table, and took off after me. He was fast, much faster than you thought he would be, but then you remembered that he was much more physically active than I was. He undergoes intense practice and physical activity everyday from his role of being an idol, not to mention he used to play basketball for fun anyway. Of course he was faster than me.

As I ran I attempted to knock things over or throw things in the way of his path to slow him down. It’s not like it did much because before I knew it he had tackled me to the ground just before I could even place my hand on the doorknob of the bathroom door. We both fall to the floor with a loud thud and Yoongi immediately wraps his arms around me tightly. It wasn’t enough to hurt me, but it was enough where I couldn't even move. You could see the muscles in his usual slender arms bulging from restraining me so firmly. I immediately threw a tantrum. I started kicking and screaming and tried to head butt him. I demanded he let me go, I cursed at him, I even threatened to break up with him., but all of that fell on deaf ears. He wasn’t listening to what I was saying. He didn’t even care. He just continued to silently restrain me as I screamed and got all of my emotions out. 

Eventually after 20 minutes I gave up. I turned on my side and covered my face. I cried, no, I sobbed. I didn’t fight him anymore and his grip on me slowly loosened. I didn’t bother moving. I just wanted to be left alone at that point. I stayed on the floor and cried like a pitiful child. I am a grown adult and I’m crying like a child. I want to crawl in a whole and not be seen. I can’t even stand to look at Yoongi. I’ve never behaved this way in front of him before and that only fueled how mortified I felt. I immediately began to hate myself. More than I already did. I feel like I've failed restraint and use of coping skills. Even though I was restrained I feel like I mentally relapsed anyway. I feel like I've failed.

I feel an arm going around my waist. Yoongi had laid down next to me on the floor and pulled me close to him. His face was resting on my shoulder in the crook of my neck and he kissed the skin softly. He rubbed my arm softly. He wasn’t pulling away or disgusted with my behavior.

“Did I hurt you at all?” he asked quietly.

“N-no..” I say slightly hiccuping

“I’m sorry.” he said. Why was he apologizing. It was supposed to be me who should be apologizing. I was so rude to him and I could have hurt him because I was being selfish and couldn’t control my urges.

“W-why?” I ask, glancing at him.

“Because I can’t help you… and I want to… so bad. I… I just want you to get better.” He says, his voice straining. He holds me tighter to comfort himself, not me. I didn’t know what to say. I had no clue to respond to him. I also had no idea how much my behaviour had an emotional impact on my usually emotionally passive boyfriend. I shifted our positions on the floor where I turned onto my back and looked up at him. He wasn’t fully crying, but his eyes were teary. 

“I love you.” I told him and he gave a breathy chuckle and smiled slightly. He gave me a kiss. 

“I love you too.” he said with our news still touching. He moved beside me on the floor and I laid my head on his chest. I think at this point we were both too emotionally exhausted and didn’t bother getting up.

“We'll get through this. Believe me.” he said with an assertive tone. I bit my lip.

“Okay.” I whispered back. After a moment of silence he pulled out earbuds and his phone from his pocket. He sticks one earbud in my ear and the other in his. He starts playing music softly and I immediately felt calmer. I let out a deep relaxing sigh and I could feel the tense muscles in my body finally unravel and relax. The music with the steady beat of Yoongi’s heart was just what I needed to calm down. With moments like this then perhaps I could get through all of this and go onto long term recovery. I believe after a moment like this I won't feel so alone on tackling this on my own. It was after a few songs that yoongi spoke with the most impacting and passionate voice he ever mustered. It almost seemed like he spoke this with more passion than the first time he told me he loved me.

“I won’t let you die.”

Hay Fever and Other Romantic Gestures

Pairing: Bill Williamson/Kieran Duffy Rating: General Audiences Tags: Crushes, Bill being soft on the DL, Jack is also there hanging out Word count: 3k

Description:

Bill gives in and lets Jack put flowers in his hair, but he doesn’t count on someone watching them.

There was a lot of thinking to be done sober.

It wasn’t usually a good thing, and thus lead to a lot of negative thoughts, but today was an exception. Bill could sit in the warm afternoon sun with his hat down over his eyes, drifting in and out of sleep without a care in the world. It was rare, but when it came it was sweeter than honey and more valuable than gold.

The grass was green and sweet smelling. The smell of wildflowers and fresh pine seemed to float on the breeze. Bill couldn’t remember the last time he felt so comfortable, mentally and physically. For the time being, he could forget his worries and let them melt into the spring ground.

Bill was laid up a good ways outside of camp, in a little clearing with tall grass and swaying trees on all sides. The only sound to be heard was the stream babbling not far off.

He thought about everything and nothing all at the same time. Mostly, Bill drank in the warm sun, the sweet smells, and the soft sounds. It was all gentle enough that Bill could have fallen asleep.

But footsteps approaching kept him from doing so. Light, clumsy ones.

Bill didn’t need to wonder who was coming around, because once they got within a few feet, Jack’s squeaky voice asked, “You sleepin’, Bill?”

Bill grunted. “Tryin’ to.”

A thoughtful silence came from Jack. Bill heard him hum under his breath.

“Grandpa’s lookin’ for ya. He sent me to find ya.” Jack stated. His voice and steps got closer until he was directly beside Bill. “Called you a lot of mean names.”

Bill pushed his hat up a bit. “Which one?”

���Said you was a lazy and dumb son of a—”

“Which grandpa?” Bill corrected sharply.

“Oh.” Jack sat down in the grass. Bill heard it rustle under him. “Grandpa Hosea.”

Bill pushed his hat back down. He grumbled nonsense.

A breeze whistled through the canopy of leaves overhead; they shook and rustled a melody that filled the clearing. Jack plucked a fistful of grass from beside him and then scattered it in the wind.

Bill sighed into his hat.

“Did he say what he wanted?”

Jack shook his head. “No... Jus’ that he wanted to find ya, and make sure you wasn’t rottin’ somewhere.”

“Great.” Bill grumbled. “Don’t tell ‘em I’m here. First time I’ve got some peace an’ fuckin’ quiet...”

“I won’t tell,” Jack whispered. He ripped up more grass and sprinkled it in his lap. “Promise.”

Bill made another throaty noise. Jack thought he sounded like an animal, which made him smile.

They both sat there in silence for a moment. Bill was thinking mostly about falling asleep, and Jack was plucking grass and generally disturbing the wildlife. It was a fine fit.

Bill didn’t mind Jack; he was a good kid. It would have shocked a lot of people to find out that Bill didn’t really mind kids this way or that. He thought they were cute, if nothing else.

His sister had a couple kids. Bill used to make it a point to go see them every once and a while for their birthdays, but after coming back from the war, things got too complicated for that. The last time he saw his nieces, they were Jack’s age, or around there; now they must have been ten or twelve.

Thinking of it in terms of years made an uncomfortable feeling swell in Bill’s guts. He pushed it aside.

Jack shuffled beside him and got to his feet. He trudged away without a word, leaving Bill to the ambient sounds of the clearing.

Spring was a weird time of year. People always raved about its beauty and how it meant that winter was finally over, but as far as Bill was concerned, it wasn’t even that great; the first half of every spring was spent dead and dreary while the snow melted, and the rivers flooded. It wasn’t until May that the trees grew leaves and the wildflowers sprouted. Wouldn’t be such a bad thing, if it all just came quicker. And if Bill didn’t need to trudge through mud puddles and sinkholes for three months while everyone else raved about how beautiful it was out, maybe he wouldn’t mind.

But he did. People called him bitter for it, but damn the spring and everything else it entailed.

Over the sound of the bubbling brook came an equally airy giggle. Footsteps crunched and came up beside Bill. Bill raised his brow to himself behind his beat-up hat. Otherwise, he stayed still.

Jack giggled again, though it sounded like he was trying to smother the sound. Bill felt something tickle his face.

“What’re you doin’, Jack?” Bill asked. His voice was hard, though it missed any real malice.

“Nothin’.” Jack replied innocently.

“Better be nothin’. You won’t like me mad.”

Jack burst into wild giggles. He fell back as Bill suddenly sat up and pulled the hat away from his eyes.

Jack had a fistful of daisies and golden rod, and a huge grin on his flushed, chubby cheeks. He kept laughing, and it took a second for Bill to realize why.

Bill reached up and touched his beard; he felt soft petals and stems sticking out. Upon glancing down, he saw a few flowers weaved into his bushy facial hair. He pulled one out and examined it, then turned an exaggerated scowl to Jack.

“This funny to you?” He demanded.

The laughter stopped, and Jack faltered for a second. His expression shifted from amusement towards something more scared and uncertain.

Bill reached out and ruffled Jack’s hair. He then stuck the daisy behind Jack’s ear.

“‘Cause I think it is,” Bill finished. He had a crooked, uncharacteristic smile as he tilted his head back. “Gimme a few more. Make me smell nice.”

Jack’s lips spread with a grin again. Nodding happily, he hopped to his feet and returned to weaving flowers into Bill’s beard. Bill closed his eyes and let his mind wander.

Bill didn’t mind being silly sometimes, just as long as it stayed between them. He figured that even if Jack did go telling others, no one would believe him, anyway.

Big ol’ mean Bill putting flowers in his hair?

Never. Not a chance in Hell.

As the stem of a daisy ticked his chin, Bill cracked open his eye. Jack looked set and serious, as if the task at hand was the most precise and technical one he’d ever had to do.

Bill thought it was cute.

“You really like flowers, huh?” Bill asked. “You’re always pickin’ ‘em an’ whatnot.”

“Uh-huh! I think they’re pretty,” Jack said enthusiastically. “Aunt Tilly even showed me how to make a daisy chain.”

“Ya don’t say? Daisies are my favourite flower. You figure you could make me one?”

Jack’s eyes lit up. He bounced on his feet, grinning wide.

“Yeah, course!” Jack shoved his handful of flowers towards Bill. “Hold these, I’ll go get the daisies! There’s big ol’ patch of ‘em by the water!”

“Alright, go ahead,” Bill said as he took the flowers delicately. “Don’t get too close to the stream.”

“I won’t— you stay here, now! I won’t be one second!”

Bill watched Jack bound off, excitedly scrambling through the tall grass. Two seconds, and he disappeared through the lining of trees like a faun.

The silence of the woods surrounded Bill once more. Smiling gently to himself, Bill lifted Jack’s flowers to his nose. He closed his eyes as he breathed deep and enjoyed the sweet scent. Maybe spring wasn’t as bad as he thought.

And then someone sneezed not far off.

Bill’s eyes snapped open, and he jerked his head towards the sound. His eyes roved over the lining of trees surrounding the clearing, though at first, he didn’t see anything.

Bill squinted and shifted up to his feet. The hard edge returned to his voice. His cheeks went red with rage and embarrassment at potentially being caught.

“Who’s out there?”

Naturally, no one replied. Bill still waited, looking comical holding a bouquet of wildflowers with a beard full of daisies and shedding golden rod. He glared around angrily.

Another loud sneeze, and Bill located the onlooker.

Kieran was half-hidden behind a birch tree, hunched over and clutching his mouth. His eyes were wide with shock.

Neither of them moved. For a long moment, they stared at each other, equally surprised and confused. When nothing that immediately endangered his health happened, Kieran dropped his hand and smiled weakly at Bill.

That made Bill come to his senses. Cheeks flushing even hotter, Bill threw the flowers to the ground and bellowed, “Goddamn O’Driscoll!”

The smile dropped off Kieran’s face. Instead, it replaced itself with genuine terror. Kieran turned and scattered, his heart pounding. Bill thundered behind him, hollering out, “Don’t you fuckin’ run, you chicken shit!”

Kieran figured if he made it to camp again he would be in the clear, or at least that he could climb a tree and hide up there, worst come to worst. However, he only made it about ten feet when his foot caught on an upturned root. Kieran pitched forward with a yelp; he fell on his hands and knees into a blanket of pine needles and moss. Kieran flipped onto his back, and Bill was upon him.

You’d think it would be hard to be afraid of a man with daisies weaved into his beard, but Bill had a burning hate in his eyes that made Kieran want to cower. Kieran winced, his arms flinging up to cover his face as Bill pounced in his lap.

At the force and Bill’s weight, Kieran wheezed. Bill grabbed a fistful of Kieran’s shirt and reeled his other fist back, ready to strike.

“You little shit,” Bill hissed. “How much did you see?”

Kieran held his hands up defensively, as if he had the strength to fend off Bill even if he wanted to.

“I don’t know! I mean, I—I didn’t see nothin’!” Kieran hesitated. He anxiously eyed Bill’s poised fist. “Nothin’ worth tellin’ anybody about, anyhow.”

“You’re damn right you didn’t see nothin’. Because if anybody finds out about this, I’ll take your fuckin’ head off your shoulders.”

For emphasis, Bill psyched Kieran out by shoving his fist forward. Kieran flinched, his face contorted with fear.

“How long was you watchin’, anyhow?” Bill demanded.

“Just a few moments! I followed Jack out here t—to make sure he was stayin’ out of trouble.”

“Or was you tryin’ to get dirt on me?”

“What? No!” Kieran’s insides felt squirmy and odd. Bill was practically on top of him, and inches from his face. His own freckled cheeks were a deep, ruddy red. “Why would I— what would I even do with dirt on ya? N—nobody at camp trusts my word, anyhow.”

That kind of threw Bill for a loop. He faltered for a second, then screwed his expression up again. He jerked his fist towards Kieran’s face, making the latter cry out and flinch.

“Don’t matter! I ain’t gonna give you no ideas.”

“Okay! Okay. I—I just think it’s cute, is all, you know?” Kieran sputtered all at once. He turned his head away from Bill’s face and screwed his eyes shut. He tried not to think of how romantic this could have been if Bill wasn’t threatening to knock his block off. “You with Jack, I mean! You don’t look the fatherly type. It surprised me and I—I didn’t mean to spy on ya, I swear. I just—just thought it was cute.”

Once more, Bill faltered. Almost immediately, he blushed, and instead of confronting his mixed feelings towards that, he gave Kieran a good shake. Bill dropped his face close to Kieran’s.

“I ain’t fatherly, so don’t be sayin’ shit like that!” He hissed.

Kieran made a strangled noise as his head bounced off the mossy ground. Something like the word “okay” tumbled out of his mouth.

From behind them, Bill heard a twig snap. A quiet voice sang nonsense.

Bill looked back over his shoulder and watched as the tall grass by the brook shook and swayed as a little body moved through it.

“Shit,” Bill whispered.

He turned his evil glare back to Kieran. Kieran’s face was contorted in a strange way, but before Bill could ask or comment, Kieran jerked his head to the side and sneezed violently twice.

“Hay fever, sir,” Kieran managed. “I got... Hay fever. And the, uh, the pollen from your beard—”

Bill scoffed. He threw Kieran down to ground and then clambered to his feet.

“Get out of here.” When Kieran didn’t immediately move, Bill gave him a kick in the shin. “I said git! Go!”

Kieran nodded wordlessly. He scrambled around, grabbed his hat, and jumped to his feet. With a last, fleeting look and a small smile, Kieran turned and hurried his way back towards camp.

Bill adjusted his hat as he watched Kieran go. Once he was certain that Kieran was out of earshot, he turned around and wiped his cheeks down. They were still fiery red, and the encounter had left his heart fluttering in his chest like a rampant butterfly. He didn’t want to think about it, and he didn’t want to think of why he felt that way, even though he knew damn well.

As Bill lumbered back into the clearing, Jack emerged from the tall grass. He had fistfuls of daisies and other flowers Bill didn’t know the names of. Roots and dirt still hung from a few of the stems.

When Jack toddled over, his smile disappeared.

“You look mad.”

“I ain’t.” Bill replied sharply. He relaxed his shoulders afterwards and sat down in the grass. “...Come on. Show me how you make them... Daisy chains.”

Jack’s eyes lit up. His smile returned, and happily he knelt in front of Bill. He laid out all the flowers, oblivious to how distracted and weird Bill was acting.

“Okay! So, the first thing you do...”

                                                    —30—

Bill’s body ached. After riding all day, scouting the area and trying to hunt, he didn’t want to think, and he didn’t want to talk to nobody— all he wanted to do was lay down and sleep until noon the next day.

When he hitched his horse at the post, Kieran glanced up at him. His mouth moved as if he were going to say something, but a mean glare from Bill convinced him to shut it again. Didn’t help any that Kieran was about the last person Bill wanted to talk to, anyhow.

Their... Encounter in the woods had been three days ago now, and Bill hadn’t heard a word of it from anyone else, either to his face or behind his back. So, thus far, the O’Driscoll boy seemed to be keeping good to his word.

The camp seemed quieter today than usual, as Bill shambled his way towards his makeshift tent. That suited him just fine, though; less people wandering and talking meant that he could get some peace and quiet. Upon entering, Bill was immediately overcome with the desire to rest and sleep, but of course, it wouldn’t be that easy.

In the low light, he noted something laid out on the bedroll.

A bouquet of daisies tied together at the stems with a bit of twine rope. Bill’s heavy brows furrowed. He knelt and picked them up to look closer.

“The O’Driscoll left ‘em there for you,” a small voice said from behind him.

Bill jumped a little with a surprised noise and jerked around.

Jack stood there, innocent as could be. Loosely, he clutched a toy horse.

“What did you say?”

“I says, the O’Driscoll left the flowers for ya.” For emphasis, Jack pointed at the flowers in Bill’s hand. “I helped him pick ‘em! He asked me where to find ‘em, so I showed him.”

Bill’s cheeks flushed. He looked again at the flowers in his hand and then shoved them out of sight partially behind his back.

“Great,” he grumbled. With his other hand, he shooed Jack away. “Leave me ‘lone, now. I wanna get some rest.”

“Are ya gonna thank him?” Jack asked. “Mama says you’re s’pposed to use manners. Pleases an’ thank yous, even if he is an O’Driscoll...”

“You worry about your own business before mine. Now git!”

With one hand on Jack’s shoulder, Bill steered the boy out. Afterwards, he closed the curtains of his tent which acted like a half-assed excuse for a door and settled in the half-dark. A little light came in from under the curtains, barely enough for Bill to see what he was doing. He brought the flowers back to his front.

Kieran had left these. Put effort into fancying them up, too.

Bill’s cheeks were red, and his heart raced.

After a moment of deep contemplation, he lifted the flowers to his nose and breathed. They smelled sweet and fresh, like how spring was supposed to smell. No mud or rain, or dirt or death.

Just sweet.

Maybe a little bit like puppy love.

Cosmogyral (adj)

whirling around the universe

On the night she was born, the stars sang.

The townsfolk weren’t exactly thrilled by the singing. After all, most of them were timber cutters trying to get some sleep. The horses that pulled the cut logs weren’t happy either- they knew they had a long day tomorrow, and they wanted sleep as much as the humans did.

But despite the grouchy townsfolk below, the stars sang on, and soon the wails of a newborn babe joined in their music.

“She’s a fighter, she is,” the midwife declared as she delivered the wailing child into the waiting arms of its mother. “Thought we’d be having a funeral tomorrow, but she’s a fighter.”

The mother, weary after hours of labor, gave the midwife a weak smile as she accepted the child. The father had long since disappeared- traveled to the city to seek his fortune- leaving the mother to raise their child on her own. Most of the town thought it was better that way anyhow, though- Kyf Nordham was an angry drunk.

As the midwife packed her things, the star-song got louder, as though trying to rival the baby’s cries. The mother began rocking the babe, humming, trying to calm her.

“What’s her name, then?” The midwife asked, pausing in the door as the star-song grew louder. 

And as the baby quieted and the mother listened to the stars, she smiled and gazed at her newborns small face, green eyes wide and nose scrunched up.

“Her name is Aja.”

----------

The mountain was spouting poetry. Again.

I’d given up trying to tell people. They all told me I was crazy- “the stars may sing for you, Aja,” they’d say, “but the mountains do not speak and the trees do not laugh.”

My mother was gentler with me, but I knew she didn’t believe me either. When I went to tell her the mountain was speaking again, she looked up from the shirt she was mending and brushed a hair behind her ear, sighing. “I’m sure it is, but even when mountains speak there’s mending to be done.”

So I sat and helped her mend our neighbors clothes while the mountain struggled to find a word that rhymed with sky.

‘Fly, you dunce. Fly rhymes with sky and you’re talking about birds! It isn’t hard!’ I wished I could scream up at the mountain. But mother needed help and I didn’t want the town to find me stranger than they already did, so I didn’t

After three shirts and two pants my feet were twitching and my glances towards the door were more frequent. I needed to run. To have the wind fill my ears instead of terrible poetry that hardly even rhymed anymore. 

Of course, mother noticed. She always did. Taking the pants I’d just finished she laughed, though it was laced with sadness.

“Out with you then, Aja. Go chase the wind.”

“Thanks, Ma,” I said, leaping from my chair and nearly tumbling it backwards in my hurry. “I’ll be back to help with supper.”

“Mhm,” was the reply, my mother already focused on her mending again. I don’t know how she did it. I could never sit for long, especially not closed inside walls.

Letting the door thunk shut behind me, I breathed in the pine scent drifting from where the cutters were trimming trees, preparing them to be brought to the mill, and, later, to the city.

“Trees and bees dance with the... with the...  fleas?” The mountain hummed, a rumble causing rocks to clatter down his slope. 

Ignoring his struggle, I dug my toes into the dirt and ran.

The town passed by in a blur, chickens scattering in front of me as I burst into the woods and wound my way under and through the trees, ducking limbs and leaping fallen trunks. While I was clumsy at most things I tried, I’d always been able to run. My mother said it was because I was trying to chase down my destiny. I figured it was because I was good at running.

I followed the path I’d worn into the forest floor, heading deeper into the trees, until the branches of the pines blocked out nearly all the light of the sun. At the base of a rock that stood twice as tall as I did I paused, steadying my breathing as I looked around. The mountain’s poetry had grown faint, a whisper that was easy to ignore. Replacing it was the sounds of the woods- birds crying out to each other and squirrels chirping that they’d seen me. The trees had started humming to one another, too quiet for me to hear what they were actually saying.

My heart slowed down to normal, I climbed the rock- Old Tuk, as I liked to call him. Sometimes when I sat and closed my eyes, he’d rumble things to me- nonsense things that only rocks understood.

Tucking my feet under my legs I sat, giving the area around me one last look before I closed my eyes. It didn’t take long for Old Tuk to start grumbling at me- he was chattier than usual.

‘Moss.’ He grumbled. ‘Moss and dripping and wet. Earth laughing at me- worms laugh and giggle. Starshine? Starshining here.’

Starshine was something that had only started coming up in his vocabulary recently. Sometimes I thought it might be what he called me, though I didn’t know why.

‘Singing dancing mushrooms in the moonlight. Rabbits? No, deer. Deer and Name-Takers and- trouble. Uh oh. Trouble talks in riddles. Starshine careful of riddles.’

With that Old Tuk went silent, and I twitched, an uncomfortable itch crawling down my skin as though something was watching me.

I opened my eyes to see a grinning face staring up at me.

The man- or creature- was a few feet away from Old Tuk. He had pale skin and pale hair- everything about him was pale. But the thing that made me wary was his eyes- they were yellow and slitted, like a cats. And I swore his teeth had points.

“Hail, fair stranger,” I said, choosing my words carefully. I had no doubt that whatever this creature was, he was not mortal.

“Hail to you, Star Child. I am Aoife, Walker of the Woods. Shall you give me your name?”

I saw his grin, sly across his face like a dagger. There was no doubt in my mind now- this was a fae, a creature the tree cutters respected but feared. 

“You may call me Ainsel,” I replied, and felt relief as the fae’s grin dropped, and he sighed instead.

“Then that I shall call you, Star Child. Your mind is sharp, for one so young.”

I’m nearly eighteen, I thought, but thankfully didn’t say out loud. No doubt to the fae, eighteen was barely a toddler.

“May I inquire as to why you came to greet me?” I said, keeping my tone polite. The fae was still keeping a distance from the boulder, his clothes seeming to shimmer in the ribbons of sunlight.

He looked at the rock and laughed, a grating sound that made me clench my jaw. “Ah, the rocks have names and the trees have names, and the Star Child has listened, hasn’t she? You amuse me, Star Child, and if you weren’t atop Tuk I might take you as a wife and let you continue to keep me amused.”

I shivered at the thought. I’d have to thank the wood cutters when I returned, for warning me about fae.

“Alas, Tuk won’t allow me you as a wife. And I suppose the stars would protest as well, so allow me to share with you what the stars cannot tell you, Star Child.”

“You talk to the trees and you listen to the wind, but you have yet to sing to the stars. They sang to you when you were born, and wait to hear you return their song, but hidden here among the trees their complaints cannot reach you. However, I’ve been up the mountain and into the sky, and they bid me bring you a message- at a price, of course- so a message I bring.”

“Leave the trees and touch the sky, and sing into the night. You are more than what you think, Star Child, but you have yet to discover your destiny.”

The grin returned to his face and he held out a hand toward me. “Now, Star Child, the price of the message is a memory- one of your choosing. You may pay and return to reach your destiny, or refuse and become a permanent part of Tuk- the decision is yours.”

A memory? I was inclined to refuse, but I also didn’t doubt what the fae said was true- it seemed the only thing keeping me from being whisked away by him was Old Tuk. 

Well. A memory, then. I thought back on what I’d done the past few days, and finally settled on a memory I thought I wouldn’t mind losing.

“I choose to pay with a memory. I give to you, Aoife, Walker of the Woods, my memory of when I wrung the chickens neck for supper two nights ago. I give you from the moment my mother sent me to do it to the moment I returned with the bird, a mere six minutes, and no more nor no less. Accept my payment and agree to leave me to return home and reach my destiny.”

The fae shrugged, then nodded. “I accept your payment, Star Child, and agree your debt is payed and to the terms you have set. Tuk, the deal is struck, allow me what I am due.”

Whatever Old Tuk had been doing to protect me, he must have stopped, since the fae lightly leapt up next to me and placed his finger on my forehead. A cold shock went through me, and the next thing I knew he was gone, and I couldn’t recall what memory I had given.

I took a deep breath and stood up, climbing down Old Tuk. “Thank you,” I whispered, and Old Tuk rumbled at me as I turned and dug my toes into the dirt, beginning my return through the forest and leaving the boulder behind.

Well. I had to reach my destiny, then, I supposed. I still didn’t know what half of the fae had said meant, but if reaching my destiny meant climbing the mountain and touching the sky, then I may as well do it.

The sun was setting behind me, the last shadows cackling as I raced past them, bursting back into the village with a whisper of a laugh chasing me from the woods. I wove around wood cutters returning home from work and waved to the ones I knew well, reaching my house and catching my breath before I entered and greeted my mother.

“I’m nearly eighteen,” I said, deciding it was best to jump right in to the discussion that needed to be had.

“Nearly eighteen and not yet wed,” my mother replied. That was a rather sore subject- the village boys thought me too strange to be even a friend, and I was fine with that.

“Yes, I know- but Ma, I’m nearly eighteen, and I think it’s time I find my destiny.”

She set down her mending and looked at me, sighing. “Aja, destiny isn’t something you find. It’s something that finds you.”

“But maybe not, Ma. Maybe I’ve got to chase it down. It hasn’t found me yet, and I’m growing tired of waiting. I want to climb the mountain and try and find my destiny in the sky.”

At that, she gave me a sharp look, and I knew I’d finally reached the point where she might call me crazy. “That’s silly talk, Aja. Your destiny isn’t in the sky. It’s here, mending and cooking, and settling down to raise some grandbabies for me. Your destiny isn’t in the sky, and it’s not in the city, nor anywhere else but here.”

“But, Ma, I was told-”

“I don’t care who told you what.” I’d never had my mother use that voice with me. “Your destiny will find you here, and you will not go chasing it through the wilderness. That’s final.”

I bit my lip and shrugged, pretending I didn’t care. It seemed my mother wasn’t going to give me her blessing- no matter, I’d find my destiny anyways. I felt a tug, now, an itch to follow the fae’s message and chase down my destiny. I wasn’t going to let my mother keep me from it.

“As you say, then, Ma,” I said, bringing out a pot to begin the stew we’d eat for supper. She returned to her mending, lips tight, though I knew later she’d apologize for growing angry. She always did.

As I chopped the potatoes to throw in the pot, I found my gaze wandering to the window and the mountain beyond.

Soon, I thought. I’ll come find my destiny atop you soon.

----------

To be continued....

chatzy log for Soapberry Pride 2019 with:

@thisdaringdanny, @cassiegermaine, @ianncardero, @mayaparker, @bumblingbrujo, @alessafalling, @faye-andrews

Ephram knew there was a wide range of Pride events going on in town, but he'd made a conscious decision to not attend the more solemn things, vigils and memorials. What with recent events coming to terms with Anaxis, getting rid of the threat of Martin Adjaye, he wanted to glut himself in joy and celebration. So it was an atronach block party he decided to attend, the area divided into seven colours of the rainbow each run by atronachs whose glyphs were of the corresponding shade. So far he'd meandered through the Red Zone, getting a crimson arrow drawn in a thick stripe down his face from above his eyebrow to his jawline, and eating a handful of sour cherry candies.

Danny was soaking up as much of Pride as he could, all while trying to fall to the back of the crowd, this event wasn't for him after all but Danny was a intent on being supportive, and getting the fun out of it. Currently that meant pouring drinks for people. He'd made one for himself and when people had seen him making ombre cocktails he'd incidentally become a bartender. "Let's see your wrist band," he asked a couple who had come up to him. He wasn't on the clock but he wasn't accidentally serving teens. "Nice," he grinned, pouring liquid out into a plastic martini glass and handing it over. Spotting Ephram and giving him a wave before pointing to his feathered accent.

Ephram pointed at Danny. "You ain't an orange atronach!" he said in mock accusation. "Although I reckon with how tanned you are, it could pass for orange." Ephram grinned at the fairy, nodding at the martini glasses. "What you mixin' up there? Is it any good or does it taste like cough syrup? So many drinks taste like cough syrup."

"This is a natural tan, one that is from burning myself all day in the sun, mate, not a lick of orange," Danny joked, dusting himself off. "Depends on the cough syrup though, American's have awful cough syrup that all has gross candy flavours so probably," he shrugged with a quick laugh. "Least give it a try, see my amazing skills that now go to waste." Danny picked up one of the syrups on the table, putting a shot of it into the shaker, then a shot of something else, quickly moving through them.

Cassie arrived at Pride events for another chance to get out of the house and entertain Addie. Besides, she wanted to provide any sort of support she could. Cassie kept a firm hold of the little girls hand as they weaved through the events and people. The red head was currently distracted with crayons and coloring pages they had picked up at one of the arts and crafts booths. Cassie was surprised when the toddler promptly and seemingly out of nowhere decided to plop onto the ground and attempt to color against the rough sidewalk pavement. "Hey." Cassie was pulled slightly, "Silly, get up."

"Gross candy flavours is exactly it." Ephram noticed movement in the crowd at the border of the Red and Orange Zones, and recognized who was causing it. "Cassie!" he hollered, waving at her. "Oh, hey -- Addie's here too? Bring er over, Danny's makin' drinks!" He looked at Danny hopefully. "You can make virgin drinks too, right? You got the stuff for it?"

Cassie glanced up when she heard Ephram's familiar holler. She offered a wave with her free hand, her expression only falling slightly when she saw the bar and Danny nearby. It wasn't a situation she could exactly slip into, but at Ephram's insistance and the few grumbles from people trying to step aroud her and her daughter, Cassie hoisted Addie up and walked over. Her smile was slightly crooked as she looked at them, "Sure. What are you having?" Her gaze dropped to Addie again when she swayed somewhat impatiently, "I figured we could both come out for some fun." Cassie explained her presence half-heartedly.

Danny watched as Cassie approached with her daughter. "Not sure anything would be okay for a baby to have, definitely a virgin drink is possible but super sugar," he commented, totally spacing Ephram meant for Cassie and not for Addie.

Ephram shook his head quickly at Danny. "For Cassie," he said, then reached out to bundle Addie out of Cassie's arms and into his own. "Don't let my feathers tickle your nose, now," he told the little girl as he settled her against his shoulder and the brightly feathered epaulette there. "What you been up to so far?" Ephram opened his hand with the last couple of cherry candies -- faintly melting in the heat of his palm -- and offered them to Addie. "I reckon I'm gonna git my hair done in the Yellow Zone. I want it to stand up higher."

Cassie nodded to Danny after Ephram had already clarified thigs for him, "She doesn't need anything. And sugar is alright for me. Really. Just make whatever Ephram ordered minus the booze." Cassie was somewhat releived to hand Addie over, and watched with slight amusement as the few candies Ephram had left were snatched up and shoved in the toddlers chubby cheeks. "Just crafts and puppet shows and the like." Her nose crinkled slightly, "Kids stuff. Addie loves it so, that's all that really matters." She chuckled at Ephram's musing over his hair, "Straight up and down? Like you need any more height as it is."

Danny looked over Ephram picking up the child and playing with her as he spoke to them. Danny had only ever been confident picking up his sisters, other people's kids were a dangerous game. "Uh...yeah, sure," Danny agreed, finishing off Ephram's drink but sitting it on the table since he was holding the child. "Your hair is already yellow, mate. Hair as yellow as my skin is orange."

Ephram scooped up his drink with his now free-but-sticky hand, since Addie'd eaten the candy. "I'm only gettin' styled in the Yellow Zone!" he protested, jogging Addie a little in the crook of his arm. "I might get it coloured blue further on down the block, though. You should come with me, man -- ain't nothin' saying you gotta stay here serving drinks. Who even let you back there, anyhow?" Ephram raised his voice, looking around, and an older atronach woman turned to point at him. "Don't you poach Danny, now!" she scolded, but then laughed and patted the fairy's broad shoulders. "You go anytime you want, child. Have some fun. You can't spend the whole time working."

"Blue would suit you," Danny nodded, looking over the man's hair. Felt like it could suit him to be dyed but he had to wonder how bright blue hair would go over with Freddie...maybe styled well. "No one let me, I just wandered back, walk with confidence and you can go anywhere," but he took the opportunity to climb up on the bar and jump over with ease. "Guess I'm a free man," Danny noted. "Should we go get some blue hair, send Freddie some pictures so he has some entertainment, he's working right?" Danny asked, figuring if Freddie wasn't out celebrating with his husband he was at Stonefruit running events, that or he was celebrating and everyone had got caught up with him. "I think I could rock some blue hair. Match my gorgeous eyes."

Ephram gave Danny a look of exaggerated horror. "Whaaaat? Skip ahead from Orange to Blue without hittin' all the Zones in between? You gotta work your way through the ROY G BIV, Danny. We still got Yellow and Green to get through before Blue." He finished his drink, spinning the glass between his fingers before setting it down on the bar. "That was good. Tasted like if a grapefruit and a passion fruit had a love child." Addie made a disgruntled sound, and Ephram patted her back. "No no no, you're the only child here, punkin. Still the only one."

"Seems like you two know each other very well," Danny said of Ephram and the small child. He hadn't even really seen Addie in the alternate reality, Cassie was always alone with him, or in a crowded room. Cassie certainly seemed more attentive here, but perhaps that was because she could sleep with her husband in their home, rather than needing to get subordinates to do so. "What's going on in yellow then? In my mind it's a lot of blow up bananas, I love pool toys."

Ephram snorted. "Easy way to confirm or deny your dream of blow-up bananas," he said, strolling down the block until they crossed over into the Yellow Zone. There were no inflatable fruit to be found, although the area did weirdly have a bubblegum-banana smell. "Here, Addie -- gonna give you to Uncle Danny for a minute, okay?" Ephram bundled the child against Danny's chest before moving over to a hairstyling station. It only took a moment for him to tell the atronach staffing it what he wanted, and then he bent to offer them his head. The atronach put their hands on either sides of Ephram's head and then blew out a breath, and Ephram's hair immediately blew up straight as if he'd put himself in some sort of vacuum tube. "Whaddyou think?" Ephram asked, excited, as he turned to show Danny and Addie. His hair was piled in soft, semi-collapsing spikes; Addie took one look at him, though, and started to make hitching noises against Danny's chest.

Danny was handed Cassie's daughter and immediately he forgot how to hold a child hands catching her awkwardly and immediately knowing she had to be uncomfortable how he was supporting her, but at least she hadn't fallen. "Hi...there," he said awkwardly to the girl, wondering if she could remember him. Fortunately Ephram wasn't gone long and when he returned Danny looked down, the child making strange sounds, was she giggling or sneezing? "Dude, you look ridiculous, are you Bart Simpson in old age?" he asked with a laugh but evidently concerned for the strange baby sounds.

"Awww, everyone's a critic." Ephram reached out for the toddler again, and Addie gave his hair a long, hard look, still deciding if she wanted to cry or not. "Not so bad," Ephram crooned at her, "unless you're takin' this so-and-so's word for it." Finally she reached up and grabbed a clump of Ephram's hair; then, satisfied that it was still his and attached to his head, turned her attention to the enormous gumball machine that took up a large part of the Yellow Zone. "You gonna git yours done?" Ephram needled Danny, nodding over at the hairstyling booth. "Or you gonna mock the efforts of braver people?"

"Not sure my hair could get paler, plus I'm still pretty content on getting it blue," Danny insisted, watching as the small child pulled and played with Ephram's hair. He hadn't said much when Danny had commented on how well he knew the child but they were so familiar, even for a kid. Kids were crazy obvious when they got on with people, and when they barely knew them. "Looks like your look isn't going to last though so we should get a picture before it's gone," Danny noted, pulling out his phone and holding it up to snap a picture for the Sheriff's husband.

Ephram really just hadn't dwelled much on Danny's observation about him and Addie, taking it as conversation and not any particular inquiry. He held still for the picture, even though Addie herself was entirely distracted by the gumball machine. "If it's as awful as your reaction made it seem, then it'll be a good thing I'll be floppy-haired by the time I get home," Ephram laughed, leaning down as Addie squirmed out of his hold; he barely managed to get her down to a safe distance before she hit the ground and was motoring towards the gumballs. "Shoot. We best follow, huh?" Ephram moved towards the machine, remarking to Danny, "So is it just me, or are you and Cassie a lil ... awkward around each other?"

"Damn kids are speedy," Danny commented of how fast Addie was moving towards the gumball machine, following along with Ephram. "Uh yeah," he said, looking down at his feet as he walked. He'd told Freddie about how he'd been feeling, about Cassie, about Ruby, about just him feeling about himself, and Danny wasn't sure how much of that Ephram would know. They were husbands, if Freddie shared Danny wouldn't be mad, but on the other hand Freddie might not see a point, after all Danny's emotions weren't exactly something that if unmentioned would be bad. "She like apologised to me about some stuff that happened in that...place, and my feelings are just all mixed up," Danny scrunched up his face. "Not like we were friends before but not really sure what I'm meant to say to her now." /When I want to hold her./

Ephram slowed and stopped, since Addie had reached the gumball machine and it turned out to be some sort of weird ... carnival ride? ... for the kids, and wasted no time in having herself boosted into the top and deposited among the giant gumballs and other magic-encapsulated children to be jostled down to the dispensing slot. He looked at Danny as if trying to gauge something, and then said, "Yeah, her and me had some stuff what happened too. Although it was more, uh, cathartic for me. Than it seems like it was for you." Since Cassie and Ephram had been friends before, and lovers too, so they had some sort of common ground to work their way back from. "Was it a sorter situation what warranted an apology, what happened in that other place?"

Danny watched as Cassie's daughter got onto the ride. He needed to keep reminding himself Cassie was different here, that what he remembered there wasn't what things really were. "Feels like my heads just a mess lately," he admitted, not sure he should say more to Ephram. Getting down on himself at a party was fucking lame. "I didn't think it did. We slept together, a bunch, I just...was with her," Danny said, unaware of how much he'd actually missed that Cassie had done in the shadows. "When she apologised it just felt like she thought she'd somehow wronged me, screwed me over when it's the closest I've actually fucking felt to someone in a while." Danny looked around them for something to do with his hands, food to shove in his mouth, anything to distract him. It was fine to get this way in front of Freddie but, regardless of how good a person he knew Ephram was, he was starting to feel closed in on by opening up.

The way that Danny started to get sort of ... soggy and discomfited by the topic of what happened with him and Cassie made it pretty obvious that the fairy didn't want to be discussing his feelings about his other self. Or more specifically his other self with Cassie. Plus there was a familiar sort of downtrodden defensiveness to his behaviour that made Ephram suddenly wonder just how much time Ruby and Danny had been spending together. But that was none of his business, nope, he'd come to that decision and he was sticking by it. Ephram had had enough of offering to talk to people about what they were feeling only to have them then end up kind of resenting him for it. "Sounds complicated," he went with, then stepped forward to collect Addie from the dispensing slot. He collected two gumballs and somebody else's squalling selkie child first by accident, but then Addie came duly rolling out of the metal chute and into his catch. "Had fun, chickadee?" Ephram asked, hoisting Addie up to get her better situated. "I'm glad you're back. I need somebody to keep me from inadvertently turnin' folks into Gloomy Gusses when I talk to em."

Danny relaxed as Ephram concluded the conversation, it wasn't that he'd have resented Ephram, he'd have resented himself for eventually running out on the situation. Bailing because he felt like he was drowning as he often did when he shared his feelings in a situation he wasn't prepared for. Seeing Cassie he wasn't prepared for. "Yeah," he nodded, watching Ephram collect the small child, almost taking another. "You weren't making me sad, I'm just bad at talking, sure Freddie will tell you as much," Danny smiled. "I'm glad the experience was cathartic for you, I don't think you're alone."

The atronach in charge of the ride buttled forward to thrust one of the enormous beach-ball-sized yellow gumballs into Danny's arms with no explanation before returning to his station, and Ephram loped closer to inspect it. "Wow," he said after sniffing its sugary scent, "I think it's a real gumball. Cain't imagine how you'd go about chewin' it though, it bein' big as all that." He didn't address what Danny had said apart from a quick grin and a nod, not wanting to send the fairy into a tailspin or anything. “Listen,” Ephram said as he handed Addie over to Danny, “I’m just gonna run to get my hair blued, I’ll be back by the time Cassie comes back from the bathroom, okay?”

Iann was actually feeling sleepy, in a good way. It felt mellow, and Iann knew that in a few hours he'd be off to sleepyland even if it was the middle of the day. For now, after working with late night functions at the Inn for party-goers and a fascinating trans vampire cabal, he was strolling through town with a purpose. The problem was, he'd forgotten what the purpose was. He still walked though, figuring eventually he'd remember why he was walking about. Aside from watching all the various events going on around town. There was always something going on at any given time.

Maya had, despite going to bed late the night before, woken up early. Today the Soapberry Chamber of Commerce had organized an open air Pride market with every stall donating at least some of their profits to charity. While she and Tuah hadn't quite gotten their bakery open, she was operating a stall under their banner. A little sign proclaimed that 100% of the profits would be donated. Maya herself was dressed in jean shorts, a Pride crop top and had finished the whole look off with rainbow sunglasses. She lounged in a camping chair, sipping a Jones Soda from the nearby cooler.

Towne Square apparently turned into a Pride-esque market at some point - yesterday? Today? Iann couldn't keep track, but it was certainly nice to discover it. He was properly distracted, forgetting completely to think about what he forgot about. Instead, Iann realized maybe he should get some food for his apartment. He'd been eating out this month - mostly at the Inn - and was craving something he could just make and eat at home. Slowing down, Iann tucked his sunglasses onto his baseball cap to browse.

Maya watched the crowds from behind her sunglasses. A few proprietors were calling out to passersby, trying to entice them to buy. She had never been good at that kind of thing. Besides, she liked to think that her array of brightly colored baked goods stood on their own. However seeing Iann, she shouted, "Hey Iann, how's Pride treating ya?"

Iann heard a voice, but there was a crowd around a stall where it seemed the voice came from. Was...a pastry beckoning him? Literally? "Outta the way, I got a date with a prune danish," Iann said, shouldering his way through the gathered purchasers, to reveal a stall with baked goods, and Maya Parker. "Hey Iann, Pride's been great," Iann replied, making a joking riff on their last encounter. "You...uh, running this thing?"

Maya laughed at his greeting. It was far far easier for her to laugh now about their whole Freaky Friday situation. She knew she'd been a bit of a pain to deal with at the time. "Running might be a generous term, but I'm in charge of it," she replied, "Can I get you anything?"

"Mmm I dunno yet." Iann peered at the piles of things. "What do you got? Show me whatever's savoury, I guess. I don't have any sweet tooth."

Ephram lurched up behind Iann. "I got about eight sweet tooths to make up for him. You got anythang with berries?" Having finally gotten to the Blue Zone of the atronach block party, Ephram's hair was now in soft blueberry-coloured spikes to go along with the painted red arrow down one side of his face. He blinked at Iann. "Shit, Cardero -- you look like you're gonna fall over. Late night at the Stonefruit? Freddie said the place is hoppin'."

"Well," Maya replied, taking off her sunglasses, "I've got some croissants, non-magical, zucchini bread that'll boost your energy and in the cooler some take and bake pizza dough if you want something for later."

"Oh I want berries," Iann said, staring at Pettaline for a moment. He didn't recognize the other man immediately. He hadn't seen Pettaline since the witch got the Cinquefoil and now with him all painted up and Sir Pride-a-lot, he was virtually unrecognizable. "Fresh berries, though," Iann amended, and then hummed at Maya's offerings. "Isn't zucchini bread sweet? More like a cake...unless you make something different and just call it zucchini bread to fuck with people, haha."

Maya glanced over at Ephram, gave him a smile and replied, "Raspberry sweet swirls that'll literally make you feel like dancing, Linzer cookies with huckleberry jam and no magic and then blueberry ice cream in the cooler that'll make you feel like you're seventeen again." To Iann's question she shook her head, "Not especially. At least not as sweet as cake. You can try a slice if you want."

Iann held out his hand, never one to turn down samples of anything, especially things he could put into his mouth. "Give me a slice!"

"What, you think she's gonna use dried-up berries in the middle of berry season? What's wrong with you?" Ephram's prodding didn't hold any real annoyance, though, unlike his and Iann's usual interactions. "Back home in Apple Fall my cousin Jenga used to eat zucchini sandwiches. Most people would think that was zucchini in slices of bread but she used to make em from slices of zucchini between other pieces of zucchini. She said it was more authentic that way. I mean, she grew zucchini that was like the size of them Nerf baseball bats so they was pretty big sandwiches." He rubbed his hands together at Maya's recitation of what she had, saying, "I ain't never heard of a sweet swirl before! But I'll take one and a couple of them Linzer cookies. Don't much feel like ice cream, though." More like he didn't want to feel like seventeen again, but that wasn't anything he wanted to dwell on.

"Wow, thanks for the trip down to Apple Fall, Rose Nylund," Iann replied dryly, unable to help himself. He'd stopped listening after Pettaline mentioned he had a cousin named 'Jenga'. "Blueberry ice cream isn't baking. You're like all-purpose dessert-maker. There's a French fancy word for that, isn't there? Patisseroise, or something."

Maya cut Iann a slice of zucchini bread and handed it to him. "Wouldn't it be easier to just eat the zucchini whole? Skip all the cutting?" She nodded at his request. She packed it all into a little rainbow box before telling him the total. As far as Iann's comment, she shrugged, wearing an easy smile. "I'm also halfway decent at plain old cooking. Figured I should be well-rounded," she replied.

Iann "Do you have any butter."

Maya pulled out a small packet of butter from the cooler and tossed it to Iann before picking up one of the plastic butter knives and handing it to him.

Ephram gave a high hooting laugh at Iann's likening him to Rose, resolving to tell Freddie about that. "You'd think so, right?" he nodded at Maya. "But Jenga said she liked the sandwiches on account of she could alternate with green and yellow. She was a big one for stripes." He considered for a moment. "Actually she never ate zucchini whole. Her husband din't like to eat nothin' what looked much like it was phallic. He'd leave town when it was cucumber season."

Iann labouriously but thoroughly spread butter on the slice of bread. "I'm tired, yeah," Iann finally said, answering Pettaline's question from three minutes ago. "June's a busy fucking month. People with rainbows and shit, I don't know if you've noticed Sheriff. You cops sure are doing a half-ass job this month. Any excuse for the pigs to be lazy, huh?" It was grousing but of course it was ironic grousing. He'd taken note of the Sheriff Department's mission statement for their institutional involvement in Pride month, and of course it made sense. It was the epitome of goodness, really. But naturally, Iann had to give Pettaline a hard time about it, even mildly. Aside from some issues here and there, Pride month in Soapberry was an oasis for happiness and charity and awareness and all that socialist paradise crap. Iann took a bite of his bread. "Mmf. Not bad. Do you make them in buns? Baps? Muffins, or scone-ical forms? Like small ones."

Ephram handed over his money and accepted the little rainbow box with a pleased exclamation over its cuteness, but then stood there holding the pastry box in both hands as Iann scolded him about the police presence at this year's festivities. "Uh," he said, not familiar enough with run-of-the-mill Iann orneriness to be able to sort it out from the more usual Iann belligerence where he was concerned, "we's still around, I mean--" Ephram shrugged one shoulder, setting his feather epaulette waving. He figured that was good enough. "Happy Pride, oink oink."

Maya raised an eyebrow, "Seems a bit excessive, but to each their own I supposed." She took another sip from her Jones Soda while Iann either teased or mocked Ephram about Soapberry's policing of Pride. She couldn't quite tell which. As for Iann's question though, Maya considered a moment before saying, "Yeah, probably could make muffins out of it."

Ephram grinned at Maya, relieved to have somebody else to address other than Cardero. "So!" he said brightly, gesturing at the banner above her stall. "This happenin' soon? The shop I mean? You'ns gonna be sellin' ice cream and stuff as well as coffee and bakery baked goods?"

"Are those feathers from your own chickens?!" Iann exclaimed in mock-horror when Pettaline flicked the feather epaulette. "Don't pluck your chickens, man! Buddy owns fancy-ass chickens," Iann explained to Maya. "The type that look like they have better hairstyles than yours." Iann gave her a wink. "I guess they're more...feather-styles." Iann folded the bit of bread he still had and ate it in two bites, listening as the witches talked. He didn't quite follow what Pettaline was asking, and so he just looked at Maya to hear her response.

Ephram said serenely, "My chickens ain't none'a your pluckin' business, Cardero."

Maya laughed at Iann's teasing. "Hey man," she joked back, "This is my 'I woke up like this' hair." Turning back to Ephram, she nodded. "We're still settling on a location, but yeah, the whole thing's coming together. I haven't gotten as far as an exact menu, but I'll probably do some ice cream specials in the summer."

Iann glared at Pettaline, mouth working under his moustache. Because that was stupidly-funny and Iann did love stupidly-funny. But he resented that Pettaline thought of it, with his dumb blue hair and silly facepaint. "What're you even supposed to be?" he demanded, then motioned to Maya. "At least you look normal. Run-of-the-mill, even. None of that outlandish stuff for you." Then, at Maya's answer to the other witch, Iann finally remembered. "Oh - right - shit. A thing. You...ah...and Tuah. Right?" Iann licked butter off his thumb, and looked away, over Maya's shoulder and into the middle-distance. "Moving along at the usual Arjuna-pace with that, I see."

Ephram said before he thought better of it, "Ohhhhhhh yeah, you and Tuah used to be a thing! I forgot." He cleared his throat and said dryly to Iann's question, "I'm supposed to be queer and havin' a good time of it, Iann," before picking up the conversation with Maya. "You into all the sci-fi stuff too? Or is it gonna be a different sorter theme for the new place? I love theme stuff. It makes places stand out more to me. Like how there's those two shoe stores in Grieselle? I never remember the name of the one what just sells shoes. I only remember Rubber Sole because of how the salespeople dress like the Beatles."

Maya, not having the same hang up Iann did, was free to laugh at Ephram's reply. She laughed too as Iann referred to her look as run of the mill. "Ah, yes, what anybody's dying to hear that they look run of the mill," she teased. She was hardly offended though. It wasn't as if she'd especially put much effort into her look this morning. There were more important things on her mind. "Yep, Tuah and I are business partners," she said before adding to his second comment, "I don't mind how long it's taking. The whole endeavor still kind of freaks me out." To Ephram, she gave a shrug, "I do like my sci-fi, but I don't think we'll go that route this time around."

"Well to be fair, I look under-the-mill. The chaff that gets milled out and fed to....chickens," Iann said, satisfied that (in his mind anyway) they'd come full-circle. He was about to ask why it freaked Maya out, but then remembered her thing about being asked questions. So Iann nodded instead, and waited with considerable interest to hear more about her vision for this co-owned bakery. When she provided none (and again Iann knew better than to ask) he nodded once more. "Okay give me a pizza dough. I'm gonna make pizza tonight. And another slice - er, sample - of that zuchinni bread..." Iann got his wallet out. "Oh by the way, I found that nymph, Collette. I have to take down those signs."

"Well I'm sure you and Tuah are gonna come up with somethang real interesting between you." Ephram pried open one side of his pastry box to extract a cookie which he ate in two bites, giving Maya a thumbs-up at the flavour. But then he frowned at Iann when the man mentioned Collette, saying, "What was with that, anyhow? I know she din't show up a couple mornings for my birds -- which is fine, that ain't an issue -- but I din't realize she was missing. And you shoulda come filed a report with us at the station, Iann, come on now. Jes because you'n me don't get along it don't mean you need to bypass the help that the police could of given you."

Maya didn't provide many details because she simply didn't have them at the moment. There were so many decisions to make and without an actual location everything else was still kind of on hold. It wasn't something she minded talking about, but there just wasn't much set in stone yet. She nodded and pulled out a plastic wrapped pizza dough for Iann. She cut him another slice of bread, but didn't add that to the price she gave him. It was all for charity anyway. Maya handed over too another tab of butter. "Oh good," she said to the news that Iann had found Collette, "Is she alright?"

"Hell no, I wouldn't file a report. Cops, amirite? Gosh," Iann snorted and rolled his eyes at Maya, thumbing at Pettaline like 'get a load of this guy'. He took his dough and plopped it into his fannypack, waiting for Maya to tell him how much it was. "But no, she wasn't missing-missing. She just - well - it's complicated nymph stuff, but ah. I'm not sure if she's alright. She's alive and functional."

Ephram pointed at Iann's fannypack, noticing it for the first time when the man secured his pizza dough into it. "You're wearin' a fuckin' fanny pack in public and you tried to make fun of how *I* look? Jesus, Cardero." He shook his head. "I'm glad she's found. Is it like a Perl situation? How she was missing for a while but then when she came back she was all different and jumpy?" It would be a deeply sad thing if that were the case. Ephram was still gutted about Perl having to leave the Department.

Maya could understand why Iann wouldn't go to the cops. Especially if Collette wasn't 'missing-missing'. Maya had her own complicated history with law enforcement that had caused her to only go to them when she had no other choice. She gave Iann a 'what are you going to do' kind of shrug before telling him how much the pizza dough was. Her brow furrowed a little to hear that Collette was alive and functional, but not for sure alright. "Could you tell her I have that lavender fudge for her?" she asked. It wasn't much obviously, but maybe it would make the nymph feel a little better.

"These are all the fashion now! Ask the trend-setter here," Iann said, motioning to Maya first before handing her some cash. He pat his fannypack (which was currently sitting on his hip) in contentment. "I tried carrying around a satchel? Messenger bag? Whatever you want to call it, the purse for dudes who don't want to say they're carrying around a purse. But it kept getting lost or I forgot it places, or it got hooked onto things. It's bullshit. This little guy's never leaving me." When Maya mentioned lavender fudge, Iann had to bark a laugh, somewhat bitterly. "I will, sure. But is it Scottish lavender, little Iann."

Ephram didn't miss the little by-play between Iann and Maya when it came to the subject of police. It was jarring to him sometimes, how people seemed to assume that since he was the Sheriff here and now, it meant he was clueless as to what it was like on the other side of the law, but ... oh, well. He decided to take it as a sign that he was doing a good job, if he gave the impression that he'd rolled out of the womb wearing a badge. "I have a satchel. It's great."

Maya had to nod, "The fanny pack is making a comeback, especially with The Gays." She didn't miss the somewhat bitter quality to Iann's laugh. "Yep, as requested I made sure to get Scottish lavender, not that I really think it makes a difference," she paused, considered then added, "Although she is a nymph and can probably taste the difference."

"Fannypacks are Pride," Iann concluded. "Oh you better believe it makes a difference. An insurmountable difference that us mortals will never understand. Anyway, Collette's not living with me right now, so if you do see her, don't assume that I've told her about your fudge."

"I'm gonna keep right on with my satchel, if it's all the same to The Gays," Ephram snorted. "Collette ain't stayin' with you, what?" he asked Iann. "Where's she at? Is she doin' all right? What did you do to her?" It was an unfair assumption, of course, but considering the normally acrimonious relationship he had with Iann, Ephram automatically figured the human was the one to blame.

"No she moved out, she's at a motel. I suggested June's House," Iann offered, suddenly mild and even somewhat passive. "Since it's cheaper, cleaner, and overall better than a motel, so. She just has some things to figure out. And yeah, probably because of something - or things - that I did. Yeah. Can I get another 'sample' of that bread?"

"Basically," Maya agreed although to Ephram she added in a teasing tone, "I think The Council will be okay with that." She hadn't realized that since her return Collette hadn't been staying with Iann. With that new piece of information, she shook her head, "Oh never mind then. I thought you two were still living together. I can just tell her next time I see her." She listened quietly, taking another sip of her soda for Iann's explanation as to why Collette wasn't staying with him anymore. Unlike Ephram, she didn't assume Iann was completely at fault, even though he admitted it might be partially. "Which motel?" she had to ask, "Do you know?" Maya had to laugh when Iann asked for another sample of bread. "Sure," she joked, "Just know I'm considering feeding you as the charity this bread is going to."

Ephram recognized that particular flavour of resigned self-recrimination when he saw it -- he'd tasted it more than a few times himself -- and he felt faintly bad for having shoved Iann into that corner. "Sorry," he said, rubbing the back of his head. "I shouldn't jump to conclusions when I don't know shit bout whatever you'ns are to each other." He didn't say anything about June's House, that being something of a sore spot for him personally. "So long as she's not missing anymore and she's doin' all right. I mean, she's some sorter ancient war nymph, right? Ain't like she's a wilting flower."

Iann shrugged. "Don't apologize, it's a reasonable conclusion," he said, giving Pettaline a wry look. "When someone's upset, must be Cardero who got them there, huh? Makes sense to me." Iann adjusted his baseball cap, then started the process once more of meticulously buttering his third slice of zucchini bread. "I don't know the motel name, no. She wouldn't tell me." He smirked back at Maya. "Ohhhh great. Pity-bread. The saddest part is, I'll take it." He took a huge bite, then made a muffled noise behind his teeth, "Vut now ah neef currffee."

Ephram said testily, "I'll apologize when I reckon it's warranted and whenever I damn well feel like it, Cardero! And no, it ain't no foregone conclusion that you's the blame all the time. We might not get along but shit, I know enough bout you to know that much." After all, Ephram's husband counted Iann as one of his closest (if not THE closest) friends of all time, and Freddie felt no compunctions about talking up Iann's better qualities to his less-than-enthused audience of one. Ephram might have groused, but he'd still listened to all those glowing reviews and taken them to heart. "Maya ain't sellin' coffee, nimrod." He looked at Maya, one eye narrowing as he confirmed, "--you ain't sellin' coffee, are you? How bout them soda pops? I'm feelin' a mite parched my own self come to think of it."

Maya watched the interaction between the two men, but didn't comment on it. "Okay," she said. She would have to ask Collette next time she saw the nymph, just to make sure it wasn't the same motel she'd stayed at when she first arrived in town. Although as Ephram had pointed out, Collette wasn't exactly incapable of taking care of herself. "The sign does say 100% of proceeds go to charity, you were warned," she joked back. She pointed down the way and told him, "There's coffee about three stalls down. Mostly iced drinks though I think."

Iann made a face. "Guh I hate cold coffee. I don't get the point." Most of the stalls here were set up for 100% charity, which amused Iann in one way. People trying to out-do each other with how 'woke' they were, as the kids liked to say. Iann liked it; because true altruism was, after all, partially selfish in order to be true. The feel-good feeling people got for being so damn generous was worth all the charity information signs that beamed 100% with rainbow pride. Win-win for everyone involved. "Okay I give up. Give me the bread. This charity will pay your charity for whatever's left of the loaf. It's delicious and addictive."

Iann blinked, shocked and a little unsure how to respond to Pettaline vociferous and rather pleasantly unexpected reply; and since Iann had no idea how to respond to bouts of sincerity - especially if it was meant to be good towards him - instead Iann grinned and changed the subject entirely. "Show me the Cinquefoil!" He looked at Maya. "So buddy has a Cinquefoil, and he's made it work!"

Maya gave Ephram an apologetic smile, "Sorry, this is my personal stash. But I know a couple of fairies are selling homemade sodas in the next aisle over." To Iann, she argued, "Well, I'd say cold coffee and iced coffee aren't the same, but that's kind of semantics. Someone's probably got hot coffee for you though." She handed over the bread without any further argument. Considering the whole event was for charity she wasn't at all concerned about the dollars she was missing out on. If everyone had a good time and they made some money for organizations that did good work then it was all good. It was her turn to blink though at Iann's excited words. "He has a what?" she asked.

Ephram likewise made a face at Iann's sudden and loud demand. "I'm sure Maya don't wanna be exposed to the sight of it," he demurred, returning a mirror of her apologetic smile before hissing at Iann, "--since it's on my god damned hip and I'll have to hike down my trousers some to show you."

"Yes, I hate cold coffee..which is what iced coffee is," Iann said in confusion, then remembered that Maya was a very exact person. So he added for her benefit, "I hate iced coffee." He handed over more money for the loaf (he didn't ask her this time; her prices were notoriously underselling and this was no exception, even for the 100% charity proceeds) and then Iann laughed aloud when Pettaline explained where the Cinquefoil was. "Oh shit, it's on your hip! Well never mind then, you can show me later, I want to take a photo of it for my records." He tried to explain to Maya without getting into too much detail about the demon. "It's this thing - it's like a - well it's..." Iann spun a hand, then made an annoyed sound and turned to Pettaline. "You explain!"

"I just mean that cold coffee seems like hot coffee that's been left out for too long and gone cold whereas iced coffee is still fresh," she explained although she knew it was still all rather semantic. She took his money although she hadn't asked for it. It didn't matter to her personally, but she was happy to take money for other people. She listened as the two men seemed to change their minds based on where this Cinquefoil was located on Ephram's body. Although it wasn't as if Maya hadn't seen a man's hip before. Seeing as they seemed to decide against it, she didn't comment on that though. Instead Maya listened as Iann decidedly didn't explain what it was. She turned to look at Ephram when Iann turned the duty of explaining over to him.

"I'll tell you what iced coffee is: it's cold. And I don't like cold coffee - whether it's been left out too long, or had some ice tossed into it to make it cold. It's still cold and gross. Here - hold this," he handed Maya back the bread and marched off to find a cup of coffee.

"Fair enough," Maya replied as Iann walked off in search of hot coffee.

Fortunately, finding plain drip coffee wasn't too difficult, and Iann returned with a cup, looking far less agitated. He also had a bottle of sarsaparilla beer. "Here, this is for Foghorn Leghorn," he said, handing the bottle to Ephram as he then took his half-bread back, tucking it into his elbow like a precious child.

"Uh," Ephram said, not at all convinced that Maya was terribly interested in hearing about the Cinquefoil, but since she'd turned her attention to him he figured he might as well. "It's this lil magical artefact what helps to integrate a demon with the person it's inhabiting. Which is ... me?" To be honest he couldn't recall if Maya knew about Anaxis, even. None of this might make any sense to her at all. "I dunno if you know, but yeah. I got a demon in me and now it's completely under my control. Thanks to the Cinquefoil." Which he wouldn't have minded showing Iann, even in public, but Ephram had no intention of forcing Maya to witness anything even close to the act of him showing skin. He accepted the sarsparilla gratefully when Iann handed it over, bolting down a third of it.

Maya had, in all honesty, only passing interest in what a Cinquefoil was. But Iann seemed excited about it, so it seemed worth hearing about. She'd heard, awhile ago now, about the demon inside of Ephram. She listened as he explained what exactly the thing was. Upon learning that it had allowed him to completely control Anaxis, she made a mental note to try and do some research on it later. Maya wasn't entirely sure what to say about it now though. It had to be a big deal for Ephram. She could only guess at what having a demon riding shotgun might be like. "Congratulations," she settled on although she wasn't happy with it, "I guess, that seems kind of like an understatement, considering."

Ephram ducked his head a little in acknowledgement. "It's awright," he said hastily, faint annoyance with Iann rising up again. Why in God's name had the man brought up the damned Cinquefoil and by extension Anaxis in front of Maya, who couldn't possibly give a shit one way or the other? Embarrassed as he usually got when talking about the demon in front of people who didn't know or care, he finished his drink and wagged the bottle at them both. "Gonna go find somewheres to recycle this," he mumbled, readjusting his pastry box in his grip before loping off towards one of the disposal stations set up periodically through the venue.

Iann mildly watched Pettaline leave, still a little fascinated by how different the witch looked. Had it been that long since he'd last spoke or seen Pettaline? The answer was yes; but also the change was remarkable enough to be not just a matter of time. Pettaline didn't just change in terms of the demonic control - although that was a huge thing. But it also belatedly occurred to Iann that the whole Pride thing was being truly celebrated and embraced by the witch, perhaps for the first time in his life. Iann tongued the inside of his cheek, thinking about the various changes he'd witnessed in people, recently. He looked over at Maya. "What were you again? A Lady of whatever? Servant girl? You seem quite recovered from all that. 'Seem' being the operative word, of course."

Maya watched Ephram go without saying anything since she wasn't sure if he was going to come back. But clearly he'd been made uncomfortable. She turned her attention to Iann as he asked her about that strange alternate reality they'd all ended up in. Her memories around it were mostly foggy, but she picked the general gist. "Both, I think," she answered, "And I mean, it wasn't so bad for me, I got bit by a snake and yelled at, it felt like a lot, but not so bad all things considered. What about you? Didn't you, like, die?"

"That's right! I was there when you were snake-bitten, you were saying such strange things. Well, strange for that world. Makes me wonder if maybe when the snake bit you, you reverted into this-Maya's modern mind...now that would be interesting." Iann licked his teeth, considering that possibility. "I still can't quite figure out what the hell that was all about, even. Why it happened. I mean I've been in this town long enough to know shit will happen, but I get antsy when there's no real rhyme or reason." Not that Iann had much time to contemplate. Between all the other work he'd thrown himself into with other people - and then Pride month on top of that - Iann barely had much time to himself at all. Which was exactly the way he liked it. "I totally died! My brother gave me a plague that made me eyeballs explode and my internal organs melt and my skin break out into pustules. It was terrible." And 'terrible' was an understatement. "Apparently, then Inquisitor Savin found and destroyed Miguel."

"Maybe," Maya replied, "Although, I was also pretty out of it. Whatever that sage dude gave me was some strong shit. But maybe high medieval Maya was the same as sober normal Maya." She understood what he meant about the lack of apparent reason being uncomfortable. "Yeah, I'd like to know why too. If there even is an answer," she agreed. "Shit, dude. Miguel killed you? How's that working out?" Maya asked. They couldn't exactly be blamed for their actions in that other version of Soapberry, but still having someone kill you seemed like it would strain the relationship.

"Ah, we worked it out. I personally thought it was pretty epic what he did, but Prince-me was really really sore about it. 'Prince-me'." Iann snorted. "If only I was talking about Purple Rain Prince, the only cool Prince to ever exist, ever."

Maya had to nod, "Sure, reasonable to be sore about someone murdering you." She laughed at his claim, but couldn't disagree with him. "Well I'm glad to be in a world where talking about a prince usually either means Prince or someone finally watched Game of Thrones. I would not have wanted to get stuck in that world."

"I guess..." Iann said doubtfully, as if he was personally questioning: was it reasonable to be sore about someone murdering him? Was it, really? Suddenly, Iann didn't feel too sure about that. "That's true. No flushable toilets, guhhhh. No showers. No anti-perspirant." He returned to the thought about soreness. "I wonder if Miguel's mad at Savin for destroying him?"

Maya wasn't entirely surprised that Iann's tone suggested that he doubted his princely self had a right to be sore about being murdered. She still thought it was reasonable, but she wasn't surprised that Iann might take a different, less traditional view. "Depending on the situation, I suppose it'd be reasonable too not to be sore about it. But seems like being murdered by someone would be as good a reason as any to be upset with them." She nodded, an expression of fairly enthusiastic agreement on her face when he listed just a few of the drawbacks of that world. "Don't know," she said, "You'd have to ask Miguel that."

Iann hadn't been thinking of his Prince-self so much as just...himself. "Oh yeah? What sort of situation are you thinking of?"

Maya shook her head, "I wasn't think of any specific situation. Just that I couldn't definitely say how a person might feel after getting murdered."

"Well I can definitely say how a person might feel after getting murdered..." Iann said, slightly gloomy as he thought about it. It wasn't even the first time, even; and perhaps that made it even more weird. But it was nothing he was going to bring up with Maya, and not while the day was sunny and bright and cheery. "Well..." Iann said, because by now he'd kind of run out of safe topics to broach with Maya. He looked hopeful that maybe she had something to comment on.

Miguel was enjoying this pride a lot more than the last one. Maybe the fact that he didn't have to put any of it together, didn't have to deal with dramatic drag queens or getting a heinous number of permits from the sheriff department. All he did was show up and eat the pretty colorful foods, and sniff at the pretty colorful drinks and wonder if they were actually edible. His ears caught his own name and he glanced around to see his tall dumb brother, who he made a beeline for, he careened into Iann, bumping shoulders with a thud. "Talking shit, 'mano?"He said it with a grin.

"Yeah, I've only almost been murdered a couple of times," Maya replied with an easy shrug, "I was pretty sore about it though." She shrugged, not exactly eager to go too much further down this path of conversation. She took another sip of her soda. From what she had gathered Iann wasn't a big fan of small talk for it's own sake, so she didn't want to ask him something just for the sake of it. She was about to ask if the Inn was having any events for Pride, out of genuine curiosity. But then Miguel appeared before she had a chance.

Dressed for the block party Alessa'd walked all the way there before she spotted the sheriff and turned 180 degrees and walked directly away. She was NOT risking her job just to go to a party. She walked or a while before coming to the town square where there were she headed for a baked goods stall. She stands on her toes to see around the people already there wondering how bakes goods could lead to the trailed off conversation of murder.

"Oh - looks like you got another customer, watch out this guy is very particular about heart-health so hide your croissants," Iann said, when Miguel popped up beside them. Iann was grinning though, teasing his younger brother. Another young woman stepped curiously towards the pastry display though, an actual legit customer (he didn't consider Miguel legit, he was just Miguel) and Iann helpfully said to her, "I recommend the zucchini bread. She's handing out free samples, so you could try it if you want."

Miguel flashed his grin at Maya then. "Ooh, I want free samples. And I'll buy a croissant because they're delicious and I'm not particular about heart health, nope, nu-uh, not me." He wanted to support the other witch in her business, sometimes it was hard to integrate magic with your job - but Maya had found a way to blend the things she liked, and Miguel thought it was interesting. It was also tasty.

"Unfortunately, Iann bought the last of the zucchini bread. I went for variety over quantity. But I can hook you up with a croissant," Maya said and handed one over on a napkin. She told him the price as well. "And you should probably let the person behind you through too," she added, gesturing to the person peeking over their shoulders.

Essie simply raises a hand in the air to be noticed from behind the two men. Responding to the first with a quick "I'm in it for something sweet actually, you got a recommendation for that sort of thing?" sharing her question with the woman behind the stall counter with a smile she hoped could be seen.

"I do not, but the baker will! She's that one right over there -" Iann said, pointing at Maya.

Maya laughed, "See, I'd recommend just about anything, but I did make all of it and I am trying to raise money here. So not sure I can be trusted." She sat up a little straighter, "What kind of stuff do you usually like?"

Miguel took his croissant and stepped aside so the next person could go, sticking his tongue out as his brother as he went. It was a good croissant, warm and fluffy and flaky. Miguel mentally kicked himself for not having Maya add chocolate to it. That would have been ideal.

Iann reached behind Maya and retrieved her bread knife. He flopped the half-loaf of zucchini bread on a wood counter space and carved off a slice, handing it to Miguel. "Here, try this now."

Alessa gaining full access to the spread on the table Alessa looks on with eyes like saucers at the variety. "Anything with fruit, anything with chocolate." she tells the other excitedly. "And I'll take three."

Maya smiled to see the newcomer's eyes light up when she looked at the table. To her that was at least half the point of baking anything to make people happy. "I've got raspberry sweet swirls that'll literally make you feel like dancing, Linzer cookies with huckleberry jam and no magic and then blueberry ice cream in the cooler that'll make you feel like you're seventeen again as far as fruit and well, what's in front of you as far as chocolate," she explained.

"Oh that reminds me, there's a fruit stall over there with local strawberries," Iann said, when the young woman mentioned fruit. "Apparently the strawberries are from this vampire's secret garden of enchanted heritage-strain berries. I want to try them. Apparently they taste like 'real' strawberries - you know, how they used to taste before mass production."

Miguel happily ate the bread and was surprised by the flavor. It did taste a bit like zucchini, but not in the way he had expected. He watched the person who had been behind him stare hungrily at all the confections Maya had made, he could related. He wanted to try a bit of everything. But then Iann was bringing up strawberries and... "¿Las fresas de herencia? ¿No mames?" He wanted to get his hands on those strawberries. "We gotta try that 'mano."

Alessa making a decision was tough but she made a quick one before her attention was torn reluctantly away from the confections towards a fruit stall. Staring off at the fruit stall she ordered "Three swirls if you have 'em and some of that ice cream maybe?" squinting across the way she asks "Is the 'real' taste supposed to be better or worse?" glancing back over her shoulder at the men and then over to the woman once again with a smile "Oh sorry, i would like them please." polite, very comically belated but still polite.

Maya gave a nod, "Sounds good." She started packing up the swirls and scooping out the ice cream while Iann and Miguel talked about strawberries. Like them she was curious what these pre-industrial ag strawberries might taste like. However Maya was stuck at the stall. Perhaps she could convince one of them to bring her back some. She shook her head at the young woman's apology. "Don't worry about it," Maya said before telling her the price of everything.

"Hell yeah," Iann grinned in pleasure, as if he and Miguel had just agreed to do something totally wild and spontaneous like slam back a bottle of tequila and then surf down a waterfall. But, well. Sometimes one just wanted to be wildly enthusiastic about strawberries. "If I could only eat one fruit for the rest of my life? It'd be berries," he proclaimed to Miguel, and then looked down at the piping voice of the small woman. "I think real taste should taste better. Like an actual strawberry taste which...who knows if any of us have ever tried." Iann tapped his fingers together in an 'oooh hoo hoo hoo' way. But before heading to the fruit stall, he said to the younger woman - "Who are you anyway? I haven't seen you around town, but then you are very small." (Iann was secretly pleased that he managed to work a Treebeard quote into his daily conversation).

"Woah woah woah!" Miguel held up his hand to stop his brother. "You can't say all berries that's way more than one fruit. I would choose mangoes, and if you can choose all berries then I choose all mangoes like South American mangoes plus Asian mangoes. That's my fruit." Miguel didn't think it would taste that good, but he wasn't going to tell Iann that. Mostly he just expected it to be less sweet. He looked over the young lady and smiled, he wanted to know who she was too.

"Okay maybe not..." Iann squinted, trying to think of a berry he'd reject. But he was coming up blank. "Okay you get all the mangoes, I'll get all the berries. Lopez can have all the boring fruit like citrus." Iann gave a mean laugh, but then shook his head ruefully. "No, no. I can't be mean to citrus, it's a damn good family. Not as good as berries, but."

Digging in her pockets for the correct change Alessa smiled brightly at the woman and thanked her "I can't wait to try it." she told her genuinely. Now she turned around fully to the two men. "Essie Caird." she introduced. "I'm particularly new to town you could say." she emphasised with a small flourish of her hands, holding out two of the swirls to the men. "And I find the best way to meet people is to buy them food, am I correct? And I can already tell they're delicious." she compliments the woman flashing her a bright smile also.

This Essie was certainly chipper and bright, and knew all the right things to say. Iann wouldn't eat the proffered pastry because he knew it would make him feel like dancing (although he hoped Miguel didn't know that, because it would be funny) but he took it anyway as a sign of good faith. "Well that's certainly a nice way to meet people. I guess I should extend the same courtesy. Here --" Iann extracted another slice off the zucchini bread, and offered it to Essie. "Right back atcha, Essie Caird. I promise my hands are clean. Just a little jammy from the swirl."

Offered bread in return Alessa takes it and smiles. "Thank you, can I have your name too or is it a one way thing?" She hadn't expected anything in return but she stood by her opinion that food shared was the best way to get on a persons good side. She takes a bite herself before offering the bread to her open purse, where her familiar poked his head out and took a nibble. She only allowed him one single small bite before she pulled it away.

"Oh shit where are my manners. I'm Iann, Iann Cardero. I run an Inn, over in Grieselle," he replied, and was about to offer his hand to shake, but then got distracted by the little head that poked out of Essie's purse. "Holy shit, is that a rat?" He didn't seem too alarmed, just curious - because the creature had to be a familiar of some sort. It looked intelligent. But was it a fairy familiar, or a witch familiar?

"And I'm Miguel... Reyes Ojeda," he awkwardly added his last names as Iann said his own. "It's a ferret," Miguel sounded excited, but he held it in so not to make the familiar feel awkward. Where was his head? He hadn't even shaken hands with Essie yet. "Hello to you too, little fella."

Faye wandered through the crowd, stopping here and there to talk to people she knew. She wasn't doing anything in particular, just mingling for the moment and taking in the atmosphere of the day. This was always a fun event, and it made Faye happy to see so many other people being happy. Spotting a few familiar faces, Faye made her way over with a small wave of greeting. "Am I the only one day drinkin'?" she grinned, taking a sip of her drink.

"What're you drinking, mamacita?" Iann asked, watching as Faye sauntered over. "You look like you're soaking up the festivities."

Alessa tried not to be offended by the rat comment, she reacts very calmly shaking her head, Finn on the other hand poked his head further out of her purse and fixes his beady eyes on Iann. When the other man introduces himself and identified correctly the species of her familiar she introduces the men to him "This is Finn." She grows quiet as a woman she doesn't know makes her way over, she doesn't want to be in their way at all so takes a step backwards to make room in front of the stall.

"Not sure," Faye said to Iann as she peered into her glass. "Some fairy was passin' 'em out over there." She nodded towards a vendors stall across the way. "Tastes like cherries." Noticing the unfamiliar woman, Faye waved. "Hey there. I'm Faye. Don't mind me," she smiled.

"Maya," Maya said by way of introducing herself, "And hello Finn." She knew better than to not treat a fairy's familiar like anything less than a full sentient being. She smiled at Faye's approach and replied, "I mean, if you bring me one I'll day drink with you."

"Give me a taste," Iann said, because he suddenly wanted to try everything here. He always had an appetite, but communal food was way more enjoyable. "Oh! A ferret," Iann said, and wasn't surprised at the creature's glare. That unimpressed look certainly confirmed to Iann that the ferret was no witch familiar. "Finn, the...fairy familiar, I'm guessing. Pleased to meet you, Finn," Iann gave the familiar a nod. He grinned at Essie. "Which makes you a fairy!"

Faye gave the little familiar a nod of hello as she let Iann have her drink. "Like mother like daughter," Faye grinned over at Maya. "Hang on..." She jogged back over to the fairy with the tray of drinks and came back with one for Maya and one for Iann if he liked the sample of hers. If not, Faye would just add it to her glass. "Here ya go." She handed Maya the cup. "I"m sorry I didn't catch your name," the witch said to the fairy with the ferret familiar.

Alessa raises a hand at each woman as they introduce themselves to her, she repeats her own introduction back when Faye returns from fetching more drink. "I'm Essie and this is Finn." she bounces her purse much to Finns chagrin. "Yeah, makes me a fairy." she confirms for Iann. "You're all very familiar with each other I don't mean to butt in or anything."

Iann took the wine, and handed it to Alessa. "Here - I hope you're legal enough to drink. If not then who cares. I actually gotta butt out - I suddenly remembered why I even had to emerge from Stonefruit in the first place. I'll be back later, hm? I can't forget the strawberries." He gave Alessa a nod and then gave Maya and Faye a wave of goodbye, at least for now.

"Nice to meet you Essie." Faye smiled at the bouncing ferret. "And you ain't botherin' nobody, honey. You're more than welcome to hang out. I like meetin' new people, and somethin' tells me you're new to town?"

"Nice to meet you too." Alessa responds waving Iann a goodbye as he heads out, adopting his glass as her own easily. "Very very new in town." she confirms. "Still waiting to see if I'm getting a job sort of new."

"Oh yeah? Where're you applyin' to?" Faye asked.

Essie shoots both women a little bit of an embarrassed glance, brushing hair behind her ear "Well I've only ever been a receptionist before so I started with those kinds of jobs. I've only had one interview so far. The sheriffs department. I think it went well but honestly it was unlike any interview I've ever done."

Maya gave Iann a wave as he headed out. She felt perfectly content to sip her fresh drink while Faye asked Essie about her being new in town. "Unlike any interview how?" she had to ask though.

"And I've only ever really been a bartender," Faye told Essie, giving her a smile. "Until I got here and they decided that I was qualified to be a teacher. Who knew?" she grinned. "

"Well the sheriff, seems very nice but much more lax than I'm used to. Said it clearly that it was more of a chat than anything, I didn't know quite what to do with it." Alessa admits to Maya. A lighter curious expression is aimed for Faye "What do you teach?"

Maya relaxed back into her chair almost immediately. Despite her trust in the current Sheriff's department, she'd heard too many stories to not ask about a statement like that. "Hopefully that's a good sign. I think they just promoted their receptionist, so they're probably in need," she said.

"Defense Against Dark Magic mostly," Faye said as she sipped her drink. "Though they're thinkin' of changin' the name to 'Defense Against Misused Magic.' To be more politically correct." Faye huffed. "As if I need people runnin' around make 'DAMM class' jokes."

"yeah hopefully, seemed like a really good job, I'd really like to work there but I guess it depends if my personality was alright. Got a little tense about it all at the time. But hey we'll see right?" Essie snorts at the abbreviation "That's a road to certain destruction that name change is."

"It definitely is," Faye said. "Hopefully they just leave it like it is."

A nudge from Finn leads Alessa to look at her watch and realize she had another interview in an hour. "Speaking of interviews I'd better go get ready for my next one. It was really nice to meet you both, I hope to see you around." and with a small wave she's jogging off quickly through the crowd.

When Ephram got back to the atronach block party, it was just in time for Danny to hand Addie back to him, making some sort of excuse about having to go that was so mired in Aussie-isms that Ephram only barely grasped what he was saying. But the fairy was making rapid tracks when Cassie rejoined them, and Ephram said, "Uh ... he had to go ... throw some shrimp on the barbie? I really got no idea what he was sayin'." Ephram indicated his now blueberry-coloured hair, saying, "I got this done while Danny was takin' care of Addie, ain't it neat?" He shifted the child from one arm to the other so that she could accept one of the huge gumballs from a passing ride attendant, saying, "Is there somethang awkward between you and Danny? He seemed mighty het up bout it. The other place, I mean."

Cassie blinked a little surprised, "Danny was looking after her?" It wasn't somethig she'd ever ask of the fairy anyways. They weren't overly close here anyways. But Addie looked perfectly content, especially since Ephram helped her get one of the large gumballs she was so keen on. "I like the blue-" She smiled slightly, "By the way," But the pull of her lips faltered when Ephram asked about Danny's mood. Cassie wasn't exactly surprised but...she'd only been gone for a few minutes. She ran a hand through her hair, "We might have been...um-" Cassie cleared her throat, "Comfortable with one another. And it's hard. Cause it's different here." She sighed heavily, "That's all."

Ephram looked sympathetic. "Awww, I'm sorry, Cassie," he said sincerely. "Reckon I got off lucky, all things considered -- no lasting awkwardness or memories of havin' killed people or been killed. It must be hard for you two, gettin' close there but not here. Memories and emotions that cain't quite be reconciled." Although Danny seemed to be taking it harder and on more of a personal level than Cassie, which was to be expected. The fairy was surprisingly fragile when it came to his emotions. "Come to think of it I did sorter leave 'im no choice when it came to lookin' after Addie for a few minutes, whoops. But she's a lil trooper, ain't you, darlin?" Addie was more concerned with her big yellow gumball than anything else, trying to figure out how to eat it when it was beach-ball sized. Ephram clucked and took her hand in his, pressing her fingers against the candy. "Jes think about makin' a lil hole in it," he urged the baby witch. "You can do that. I hear you's all sorts've talented when it comes to magic."

Cassie nodded slowly in agreement with Ephram. There wasn't really a more simple way to put it, and clearly with Danny still sore, no proper way to fix it either. "Yeah well," Cassie shrugged, "What can you do? I'm just trying to keep moving forward is all." She was glad when the attention was shifted back to Addie and watched with raised brows as Ephram tried to show the toddler how to eat her oversized treat. "I don't think a hole-" Cassie began, but was cut short when the gumball exploded into several pieces, some of the yellow chunks hitting those walking past. Cassie ducked slightly, with a cringe on her face but Addie broke into squeals of laughter, clapping her hands, "Boom, boom!" Before she reached for one of the gumball shards and stuck it into her mouth. Cassie reached out slightly, "Make sure she doesn't swallow that. Oh geez."

Ephram urged, "Chew chew chew!" to Addie, snagging a shard of gumball and shoving it in his own mouth to demonstrate with big exaggerated motions. "It's gum! You gotta -- hey, this stuff's really good, Cassie, you gotta try it." He laughed and blew a bubble, the gum swirling into different shades of yellow as Addie squealed gummily in delight.

Cassie watched in amusment as Ephram and Addie enjoyed the colorful, slightly enchanted bubblegum. At insistance, she took a chunk of the gumball, but slipped it into her pocket for later. "I'll chew it in a bit. There's gotta be some snacks with more substance we can try."

Ephram nodded enthusiastically. "The Green Zone! I skipped over it so's I could get my hair done in Blue, but there was tons of food there." He chewed his wad of gum to one side of his mouth like a cow, linking his free arm in Cassie's and steering her forth from Yellow to the next zone. Almost immediately, the air was flooded with all sorts of savoury scents, the Green Zone enchanted to be bigger once inside than its actual physical footprint and to contain the foodie aromas. Ephram immediately bought an ice cream bar covered in rainbow-coloured crunchy bits, explaining as he devoured half of it, "--appetizer."

Cassie followed Ephram as he guided her to the correct area with all the food stalls. The smells almost instantly got Cassie salivating, and when Ephram stopped to grab a rainbow popsicle she bent slightly, and fished the chewed gum out of Addie's mouth before tossing it in a nearby trash can. Before the toddler could put up much of a fuss, Cassie purchased a small cup of rainbow softserve and handed it over. She got a small spoon for the girl, but Addie went into the icecream hands first. "Sorry." Cassie sighed, taking a step back to grab handfuls of napkins. Her brows raised when she noticed another stall and pointed, "Is that chocolate dipped cheesecake?!"

Ephram only laughed at Addie's dive right into her softserve. "Don't even worry bout it," he assured Cassie. "Back home in Apple Fall I used to look after my cousin Lilybee's twins when they was just startin' to eat solid food and they'd insist on feedin' each other. Only neither of em was a dab hand with utensils so they'd use their hands and then when they got frustrated with that they'd jes sorter ... dump food on each other and lick it off." They'd reached the cheesecake stall by that point, which turned out to also serve salty flavours, so Ephram asked for chocolate-dipped for Cassie and blue cheese and pear for himself. "Ain't I fancy?" he boasted with a grin. "Freddie's opened up my palate from what all I grew up with. Although I still do eat pimento cheese whenever I get the chance, don't get me wrong."

"Dumping food?" Cassie repeated a little wearily, "Are you telling me that's what I have to look forward to with two?" She was contented though when she received her cheescake slice, and took a hefty bite carefully chewing the cold treat as she watched Ephram pick out his second snack. "Well, I'll say you surprised me." She commented on his expanded palette. "If you like that, have Freddie make you try a baked cranberry and brie log sometime." She grinned at the memory of the appetizer, "It's delicious."

"Cranberry and brie, will do. It sure sounds good. When we was makin' them cranberry and popcorn strands to decorate the tree at Christmas, Freddie got extra because he knew I'd eat em before they even made it up." Ephram chortled at the memory, then said, "Might not work that way with one older and one littler! Twins are weird, we all know that. Oh, shoot, Cassie--" Ephram stared at her with rounded eyes, the blue vivid under his blue hair and against the red arrow-stripe down the side of his face, "--there ain't no chance you're havin' twins, is there?"

His words were scandalized but from his tone it was obvious that Ephram thought this notion utterly amazing. "I mean I know we talked about you havin' multiple babies because of possible multiple fathers but I don't mean that this time I just mean normal twins! Well as normal as twins can be, since they ain't normal, they got them twin-languages and all."

Cassie looked at Ephram a little strange due to his fallen expression. She didn't know what was running through his mind exactly, but she didn't get why men always seemed to want more. "Lilo would like it I'm sure." She mentioned, her voice a little flat and dry, "But I'd need more than just a bigger pram. Try extra arms and a bigger house. To start with." The corner of her mouth upturned, showing Ephram she didn't take it too much to heart. She got a corndog snack along side Ephram, breaking off a few pieces for Addie. Both mother and daughter made a slight face, the mineral enhancements weren't something they were a fan of. When Ephram mentioned Iann though, Cassie pouted her lip slightly in thought, "What? Mmm...I think he mentioned Elena a while ago. I didn't realize she was still there, or that he invited a nymph after moving out of Stonefruit." It was slightly surprising, given what she knew about him and Ciara. "What? Are you jealous?" She laughed suddenly.

"All's I'm prepared to offer is the pram, woman." Ephram grinned, also intending to keep it light. He held out his hand for the rest of Cassie's ... cornrock? rockdog? ... thing, since he liked them fine. "Jealous? Naw, I ain't jealous. My livin' arrangements suit me right down to the ground, thank you, and neither Freddie nor Oliver's super keen on havin' extended house guests. Hell, I totted my own Daddy out when he was in town and asked to stay, heh, so I reckon I'm the same." He raised his eyebrows as he finished the last of the food and threw away the sticks, looking around for the next enticing item.

"Your dad was in town?" Cassie inquired. It was really the only thing that stuck out to her, but the news of Ephram kicking him to the curb, or just short of it seemed well fitted to, from the little she knew. She looked around with Eprham for their next tasting spot and started to head towards a cart that made fresh crepes. "Well, that mansion has tons of room. But I get it, wanting your own space. I'll just make sure the babysitting isn't extended." She snickered, "Although, I have to say Freddie is being very sweet about it."

"It was a while back! He wasn't here long, which is to be expected. The man's slicker'n an otter givin' birth in a vat of olive oil." Ephram perked up at the sight of crepes, requesting one filled with spinach and cheese, one with lemon and sugar, and one with ffluvofruit paste which the crepemaker assured him tasted like currant jelly. "Extended babysitting's so different though! You don't gotta make conversation and deal with any emotionally taxing stuff or worry bout whether or not having real loud graphic sex is gonna be an issue. Not that any of that sex is gonna take place near the baby, of course," he hastened to add with a shake of his head, telling Addie, "same for if you come over with your brother. You don't even know what that is and we aim to keep it that way."

Addie wanted her mother again, though, so Ephram set the little girl down on her feet so he could collect the crepes. "Freddie's being incredible. I know when he decided on this, he was doin' it for me, but I think he's really gettin' into it now, the idea of bein' uncles to lil Albie. I mean if nothin' else, it gives him the chance to shop for baby things, and Lord knows baby things are adorable."

"What did he want though?" Cassie asked. Parents like Ephram's father didn't just show up for a friendly hello. At the crepe stand Cassie ordered nutella and strawberries and cream filled crepes. Her sweet tooth had yet to be satisfied. She chuckled at Ephram's view on babysitting, "I suppose some of that's true." She was glad Ephram caught and corrected his own slightly questionable adult topics, though really he was safe. Addie didn't know anything, the only worry Cassie had was she might parrot it at the worst possible moment. "Baby stuff is the best to shop for." She agreed with a grin. "I'm glad you're all getting some fun out of it."

Ephram shrugged. "Harlan? He had some cockamamie story bout business in town, but I reckon he got antsy that Freddie rumbled him. I married a con man same as my Momma did, heh, only mine's reformed." He folded his lemon sugar crepe up and mowed it down in two bites with a satisfied hum. "Everthang's so tiny! And cute! And it gives Freddie the chance to--" Ephram stopped himself, and when he continued his voice was much more gentle. "His mom left him when he was very little, and his dad's sort've a D-I-C-K. Might be doin' him some good to spend time thinkin' on what might make a sweet lil' baby boy happy."

Cassie never thought of Ephram marrying Freddie as a mirror of his father, but of course Ephram would know better than anyone. "Well, as long as he didn't cause any trouble." She watched how Ephram ate his crepe without any utensils and attempted the same folding. Except it took her a few more bites, and the last one once again went down to Addie who was watching it intensely. Cassie smiled a bit sadly at the news of Freddie's parents. "It seems like most fathers are D-I-C-K's." She muttered, "I'm glad he's getting the chance. And I'm super lucky our tastes sort of align." Cassie smirked, "When it comes to fashion and decor anyways."

Ephram polished off most of his cheese and spinach crepe, saving the last morsel for Addie as well. "You two really do have the same tastes in baby stuff, it's sorter uncanny," he chuckled. "I mean, you don't really have the same dress sense -- he's more glitzy -- but I suppose dressing rooms ain't the same as dressing your body, huh?"

Cassie nodded, "No that's fair. I forgot he has a mansion to decorate." Cassie laughed, watching as Addie happily took the pieces of crepe from the adults and took nibbles back and forth from savory to sweet. "Yum, yum!" Cassie folded her arms for a moment on her belly, "But he does have good taste in more traditional pieces too. That's all I meant."

Ephram sampled his ffluvofruit paste crepe, opening and closing his mouth a few times to try and figure out if he liked it or not. Addie clamoured for some so he pinched off a bit for her, in case she didn't care for it, and said, "His major concern was if Albie would need a bunch'a big brightly coloured plastic things, heh. But tell you the truth, I ain't so much for those neither. I like baby stuff what's handmade and looks like your family could of made it for you, not the latest Duplo toys." Ephram grinned, scrunching his nose. "One of the very few things I'm a snob about."  

"Ah right, well the wood sheep should have been a sign of that." Cassie spoke, watching Addie hesitantly try Ephram's second crepe with him before tossing it on the ground and sticking out her tongue. "So that's a no then?" Cassie asked, bending down to discard the food properly, "No!" Addie repeated. "You don't think Albie is too close to Addie hmm?" Cassie inquired, since Ephram and Freddie clearly favored that nickname and made it known, "I just didn't want to confuse them down the line. You know, the similarity really was not on purpose." She grinned somewat guilty.

Ephram made a face. "Naaaaaw," he said. "Plenty of kids have similar names when their folks wanna have em in like, a theme or a matched set or whatever. Besides, if we's the only ones callin' him Albie, he'll get used to bein' somethang else at home, right? You'ns gonna call him Albert proper? Or Mateo? I like Mateo, it sounds like a smart kid name."

Cassie let out a loud laugh, "Matched set? Oh my god..." Not that Cassie doubted the idea at all. She shrugged, "I was thinking Bertie. But Albie is good too. It really just depends what seems to fit him best. Albert is for when he is in trouble. You know how that is." Her smile still lingered as she pulled Addie a little bit closer and wiped some of the food and crepe leftover from her mouth. "And Albert doesn't sound smart? What about Einstein? Or Prince Albert." She squinted playfully at Ephram then, "You're funny."

"Bertie at home and Albie with his uncles! I used to get my full complete includin' the middle name called when I was in trouble seein' as I din't have no shorter version of my name. Only Harlan called me Effie now and again but it wasn't ... he wasn't meaning it in a nice way, really." Ephram rolled his eyes and unconsciously touched his floofy blue hair, the feathers on his shoulders. "Anyhow. Einstein I'll give you, but Prince Albert? I'm fair sure most folks think of the genital piercing when they hear that, not no actual prince." He grinned at Cassie's teasing comment. "I'm funny 'cause Ephram sounds like a funny kid name."

"I just hope he doesn't have an identity crisis at a year old." Cassie commented, "My parents just liked calling me by full name all proper like. Big surprise right?" She rolled her eyes and scoffed, "Thanks Ephram. For that. I think when looking at a baby you might be the only one who'll think of a genital piercing." Her gaze was blunt and irritated, "Really." She flicked one of the feathers on his shoulders, "I'd say your funny past the name. But at least it makes you unique."

"Listen, if Southern folks can be fine havin' roundabout five separate names each, Albie's gonna rock the double name with no problems." Ephram laughed at Cassie's confession, saying, "Considering I call you Miss Germaine in my head half the time? Nope, no surprise." He looked innocent and wounded, though, when she scolded him about mentioning piercing. "What? It ain't my fault nobody knows no more bout the human prince and just know the piercing now! I din't make it up!"

"Miss Germaine is too formal." Cassie said, fiegning a sort of shock that Ephram continued to use the title. In reality, he still made up names for her all the time. "What was the last thing you called me? Miss Britchypants or something?" As Ephram tried to defend his reasoning though, she wasn't exactly convinced. "You can't say nobody knows about the proper Prince Albert. He was a Queen Consort of England, supported sciences and arts during the 1800s. You're telling me Freddie never rambles off about royalty?" Cassie would find that even harder to believe.

"Miss Germaine is exactly formal enough for the likes of you." When Cassie tried to remember the last thing he'd called her, Ephram crowed and said, "Missy Britches! For when you's being insufferably hoity-toity, like right now." He looked shocked at Cassie's protests concerning the dignity and reputations of royalty, putting one hand to his chest. "Are you kidding? Freddie's English! Don't nobody give less of a shit about British monarchs and the throne than English folks. He'd probly say that havin' a--" Ephram lowered his voice so Addie couldn't hear, "--dick piercing named after him is a bigger honour than this ol' Prince Albert deserved."

"Whatever." Cassie waved off Ephram's nickname again trying to fight back her amused little grin. She looked at him exasperated then though, placing a hand on her hip, "I know Freddie is English." Her expression pulled into uncertainty when Ephram insisted the fairy wouldn't give two figs about monarchs. Sure, he knew Freddie better but it still just seemed wrong. Maybe if Freddie was a disgruntled peasant he wouldn't care, but he clearly had come from some sort of class distinction. She wondered if this was just her alternate reality brain fogging in and shook her head to try and clear it away. "Either way. He'd still know who Prince Albert was." Cassie said, sticking her tongue out stubbornly.

Ephram responded by raising his nose loftily. "And I'm tellin' you -- he'd know, but he'd have as much reverence for Prince Albert as he does for Colonel Mustard." He considered for a moment. "Maybe less. He knows I really like eating mustard. Right out of the bottle sometimes."

Cassie looked at Ephram incredulous, trying not to break into giggles at him, "What Colonel Mustard? That's a board game character!" Her brow creased for a moment, "Do you mean Colonel Custard?" She made another face at the witch's proclomation towards the yellow condiment, "Yeah, I remember. Definetly worse than how you used to go through peanut butter." She teased lightly.

Ephram looked incredulous now. "Colonel Custard? Girl, are you talkin' bout General Custer?" He guffawed heartily, slapping his knee. "Man, we's at all sorts of cross-purposes now. I did mean the character from Clue! That's my point, Freddie's got just about as much respect for him as for real life Prince Albert! Hell, if /I/ got a Prince Albert, he'd be waaaaay more invested in bending knee to that." Ephram smirked for a while, then snickered at Cassie's remembering his eating habits. "Only on account of I'd eat peanut butter out of the house too," he said. "So it seemed like I wasn't havin' as much of it. But you din't know the extent of my peanut butter eating habits, Cassie." Ephram shook his head sadly. "I had a problem."

"Colonel Custard is a better name." Cassie said, though at the correction she couldn't help but laugh at herself underneath her own defense. "He was the worst anyways, so who cares. Just don't tell my son he's named aftera genital piercing. He isn't." She looked at Ephram seriosly then, since he seemed to take peanut butter consumption so grimly, "Does Freddie know the extent of the problem? I can't beleive he introduces you to delicacies like blue cheese and pears and you still eat condiments and spreads right out of the jar." She smiled some, "The only thing that should be allowed with is chocolate. Or nutella." Cassie couldn't rightly tease Ephram without bringing up a few of her own discretions.

"I cain't argue with you there. I'd wanna be called Colonel Custard, for sure." Ephram laughed at Cassie's wholesale dismissal of Custer as being a shitheel, promising, "My lips are sealed on the subject of exciting dong piercings, you have my word. Lil Albie's gonna be told that you named him after the wide wingspan of the mighty albatross. Or this weird English kids' cartoon show where the main boy was named Albie. Not a single body modification in sight." When she moved onto the very serious matter of the peanut butter, though, Ephram matched her tone.

"Oh, he knows. Why d'you think he tries to distract me with stuff like moraba havij and rillettes and guava cheese? Although I reckon there's two reasons he hasn't cracked down directly on peanut butter. One, it keeps me from eating pimento cheese. And two, I like makin' fluffernutters and he's secretly a fiend for marshmallow fluff." Ephram gave a firm nod, tapping the side of his nose. "And you, Missy Britches, are a public menace when it comes to nutella. If I knew you liked it so much I would of eaten a lot more of it when we was livin' together." The wolfish grin he gave Cassie following this statement left no confusion as to what sort of salacious activities he was hinting at.

Cassie frowned, "What weird English kid's show?" She looked on impressed though as Ephram rattled off the names of food that she didn't recognize by title alone. "At least he's educating you." Cassie pointed out the bright side light heartedly to him, giving him a nudge on his shoulder. "Oh, ho, ho. Your loss Ephram Pettaline. But I think you know to pay closer attention to your partners now." She laughed, rolling her eyes and biting the inside of her cheek at Ephram's glinting smile.

Lin and Su with Spouses - During a (school) Dance? (For lovealg)

“Well, what do you know, Madame Beifong, I think they’re playing our song.” LoLo flashed that damned sassy dimple at her sister and she reacted the same way that just about everyone did; smiling, blushing a little and going along with him. Su took the arm he was offering and let him take her to the dance floor, laughing at whatever flirty thing she was sure he’d just whispered into her ear. He was incorrigible.

“It’s good to see him able to move around the floor like that.” Her brother-in-law was standing next to her, two flutes of champagne in his hands. “I got this for Susi, but you may as well have it before it goes flat.” He gestured at a quieter table set back from the crowd and she sat down with him, taking the proffered drink. Champagne wasn’t her favorite tipple, not by a long shot, but it’s what Wu liked to offer at his parties, so there she was.

She liked her brother-in-law. He was a deceptively quiet man; she’d assumed, at first, that he was spineless, under her sister’s thumb. He wasn’t. Rather, he was a solid pillar of strength, the foundation for all of Su’s impulsiveness and hot temper. Damn handsome, too, not that she thought Su would have only picked a man based on his looks. Never hurt, though. The more she’d gotten to know him over the years, the more she respected him. Liked him, too. Su hadn’t done bad for herself, not at all.

“So how long do you think before I can gracefully bow out of here?” He chuckled, and she snorted in return.

“Su’s like LoLo, always wants to see the party out.”

“I’m usually pretty partied out about halfway through the evening.”

“I hear you on that one.”

“Susi told me about the parties your grandmother used to have. Legendary.” He smiled, and they both watched LoLo take Su through her paces across the floor.

“Did she? I wouldn’t have thought she would have gone on about our childhood.”

Baatar thought about this for a moment. “I don’t if she went on, per se, but she told some stories. The kids always wanted to hear them. She had to do a fair amount of judicious editing, of course, but both you and your mother usually came up.”

That got an outright laugh out of her. “I can hardly believe she had a positive thing to say about me, never mind my mother.”

He frowned at her. “What do you mean?”

She threw a hand out. “Well, it’s not like she and I got along all that well when we were kids.”

He took a swallow of champagne before settling the flute down and steepling his fingers. “Well, I suppose in many ways you didn’t.” He shot his wife a glance. “I never had any siblings, but I raised five children, I’m aware of how sibling relationships work.” He returned his attention to her. “She had a lot of good memories of the two of you. The kids loved hearing the stories, especially Opal.” They both looked at Opal, who was currently dancing with Mako, his hand resting easily on the small of her back.

“I’m just surprised, I guess. It’s not like we left on good terms, to say the very least.”

He watched his daughter dance for a moment before taking another swallow of his drink. “I had a good relationship with my parents when I was a boy.” A small smile. “Even when I wasn’t a boy any longer. My parents were good, loving people.”

“Much like LoLo’s folks.”

He shook his head, bemused. “Well, there weren’t as many of us, but yes. When I finally met your mother, I was looking forward to it. I was anxious to meet the woman who had given the world Suyin Beifong.”

She scoffed. “Bet she changed your mind in a hurry.”

He rolled the flute between his fingers, watching as the light caught and flashed in the crystal. “She didn’t have much use for me, your mother. She didn’t like me, and she never bothered to hide it, either.”

“That sounds about right.” She leaned forward to put a hand on his arm. “You shouldn’t take it personally, she didn’t like most people.”

He shrugged. “Well, I can’t dismiss what she did for Huan. And she was always fairly affectionate with Opal, who openly adored her. She was gone before the twins were old enough to really know her and she and Junior barely spoke, most of the time. And, as I said, she didn’t like me.” He sighed, and glanced over at her. “It killed Su, it really did. She wanted so badly for her mother to be proud of her.”

She shook her head and flicked her glass with her forefinger, watching the liquid shiver. “Yeah well, my mother wasn’t invested in praise. As far as she was concerned, praise was something that only weak people needed.”

“I hated having her around. She was rude to me, ignored Junior and the twins no matter how hard they tried to get her attention, and was dismissive of Su. In fact, if it weren’t for Huan I would have kicked her crotchety ass right out of the city.” His thumb was drawing circles on the table. “Su and I always fought when she was around, Su was so tense and anxious. She’d go out of her way to satisfy her - which never worked, course - and then take her disappointment about it out on me. She built her that ridiculous statue in a desperate bid to please her and it didn’t work, of course. Do you know what your mother said about it?”

She sighed. “I can probably guess.”

“You call yourself a Beifong? Your metalbending needs work, Suyin.” He hissed a breath out. “It’s been nearly thirty years now and I’m still not finished being angry with her over that. Su cried for days over it. I think the only reason she didn’t tear the damn thing down was because she wanted it as a reminder of how she could never get it right.” He gave a half-smile. “That, and she was angry when she was done being hurt. I don’t need to tell you how stubborn and defiant she gets when she’s angry.”

“The fucked up thing about is that knowing my mother, she probably was pleased.” She flicked the glass even harder, sending it an inch across the table. “I don’t know why she just couldn’t tell us that, but she never could.”

He finished his champagne, still looking at the table. “She used to celebrate your birthday. Every year. Did she ever tell you that?”

She frowned. “No. She celebrated my birthday?”

He nodded. “Every single year. Without fail. She’d have a special dinner, like she’d always have for the kids, make sure the table was decorated with your favorite flowers, that sort of thing, and then she’d tell them stories about you, about the fun you’d had as kids, about what a good bender you were, about how you were helping to keep Republic City safe. That sort of thing.”

“Shit.”

He met her eyes on that one. “Yes, well. And then, after the kids had gone to bed she’d go into her office, alone, and get thoroughly drunk. And cry.”

They were both silent for a time, watching her sister dance with LoLo, laughing at whatever he was saying to her, spinning around the floor like she was born to it. Which she was, Su had always been a gifted dancer.

“You showed up at Zaofu with Korra all those years ago, and I thought she was going to come apart at the seams. She did the same thing with you she’d always done with your mother, took you around the city, trying to prove to you how wonderful her life was, how perfect. She wanted your approval, but was so afraid you wouldn’t give it to her. Which made her angry, of course. She’s never liked feeling vulnerable.”

“Family thing,” she replied, her throat closing up on her, damn it all anyhow.

“You reached out, though. You made sure that you left on decent terms, unlike your mother. And I can’t begin to tell you what it meant to her.” He chuckled. “She was ready to have you move in, then and there.”

She managed to return his laugh. “Yeah, she tried to get me to do it.”

“She couldn’t stop talking about you, after you left, was already planning how she was going to invite you for the holidays, that sort of thing.” He reached his hand out and patted hers. “You being back in her life has made her very happy, it’s meant the world to her. I’m glad the two of you were able to make up your differences.”

“I was so pissed at her when Mom sent her away, I blamed her for everything. She was just a kid. The last thing she needed was feeling like she was being thrown away, which is what I’m sure she felt like.” She tossed down the rest of her champagne. “Not that I understood it back then, I was too busy thinking like I was the only person in the world that knew what was best for everyone.” She grimaced. “What a sanctimonious asshole I was.”

He gave her a conspiratorial grin. “Oh, when I was in my early twenties I thought I knew everything there was to know. I was so very, very wrong.”

“I’d toast to that but we seem to be out of booze.” She waved over a server and pointed silently to their glasses, waiting for him to pick them up and replace them. “Now then. Here’s to being twenty-two and thinking you know everything.” He tapped his glass against hers and they both drank.

“She told the kids about the scars, too.”

Her eyebrows shot up at that. “Did she? Before they met me?”

He nodded. “Junior and Wei were getting into it one night - the two of them have always fought like wolfbats and badgermoles - and she hauled them both aside and told them that they’d regret their fighting one day when they were older. And then she told them about it, how you were trying to stop her from doing something wrong and how she lashed out at you and scarred you. The twins were too young to hear the whole story, but she told the three oldest, was honest about what she was doing at the time, really laid it out for them.”

“Huh.” She didn’t really know what to say to that. She’d always assumed Su had never said anything, that the kids had all just assumed she’d gotten it somewhere else.

“That’s why all the kids were so eager to meet you when you finally came.” He smiled. “Even Huan, although being Huan he didn’t really show it.” He waggled his finger at her. “I tell you what, though, that sculpture of his you tossed? When you and Su were having it out? He kept it, used to tell everyone that it was a joint Beifong endeavor.”

“Smartass.” She was amused. Funny kid, Huan.

“Who’s a smartass?” Su was looking down at her, smiling, cheeks slightly flushed. Well, a dance with LoLo would do that for just about anyone. He was sitting down next to Baatar, taking up what was left of her champagne.

“You are,” she told her kid sister, who stuck her tongue out at her before sitting next to her and wrapping her arms around her, laughing.

A Dragon’s Love.5: Paternal

Previous Chapter

Orion spent the first few weeks after the trials doing nothing. He was rather depressed. Though no one actually came away with the S-Class title at the trials, it didn't make him feel any better. That meant that it had been fair game. And he'd missed it.

His mother could tell that he was down about his leg though and tried to spend a lot of time with him. Which, sure, he appreciated, but he was starting to get too old to hang out with her all the time. It just wasn't fun for him any longer.

Mirajane could tell too that he wasn't that interested in spend all day with her. Before he started taking jobs, they used to spend all of her off days together. Even when he had to train, he'd want her to go watch. Recently though, he didn't even want her around. Not at the guild, not at home. Elf told her that he was just becoming a man and to leave him be.

It was so hard though. It just made Mira so…sad. Since he was born, it had been the two of them. She almost felt like he was trying to ditch her too, just like Laxus.

Not that Mira wanted to, like, hold him back or anything. She knew that he had to become more dependant. He was getting older. Eventually, he would leave her. Even though she didn't like to think about it, he'd made it more than clear that he didn't want to spend the rest of his life in Magnolia. He didn't even seem to like most of the people in the guild, really. Her years with him were numbered, she knew, and they were being wasted on him trying to prove himself to a man that would give up the world for him.

Sadness didn't even begin to explain what she was feeling.

Her son didn't notice, given he wasn't hanging around much anyways, but others did. Lisanna kept telling her that she just had to start doing things for herself again, but she didn't want to. Orion was her main focus and had been for years. To know that he was just blocking her out then didn't make her feel very good.

Someone else took notice too though that, honestly, she wanted to stay away from. And she had been. Very well, actually, the past few months. But as always, it only took one moment of weakness to wash that all away.

"What's up with you, Mira?"

"Hmmm?" She glanced up from the money she was counting out. "What, Master?"

Laxus just stood there though, frowning at her. "You've counted that same stack of jewels, like, five times."

"I just keep losing count," she said with a slight smile. "What? Are you watching me?"

He had been sitting off by himself, drinking a beer. The guild had already been closed up though and it was only the two of them. She thought that he was waiting for her to finish closing so that he could be alone, but apparently, he was just waiting to corner her.

"No," he said as he rested his palms against the bar. "I just… I know that we haven't been on good terms for awhile now-"

"What are you talking about? You're the Master and I'm the worker. What more could you want?"

"Demon."

"Well?"

"I was just talking to Ever or whatever and she said that, you know, you're feeling all down and shit," he said as he continued to stare across the bar at her. "I mean, even I noticed it, really. I just thought you were mad at me about something. But if something's wrong-"

"Nothing's wrong."

"Evergreen said it was about Orion-"

"Nothing that concerns you."

"Mira-"

"It doesn't affect my work," she told him. "Therefore-"

"I'm not asking as your boss or your master or whatever." He gave her his best concerned look. She wasn't buying it. "I'm asking as your friend. Aren't we friends?"

"Laxus-"

"Has he done something? I mean, I can talk to him. He listens to me, I think. He thinks I'm the greatest thing ever."

"Yeah, I know. Just boosts your ego even more, doesn't it?"

"Mira, I'm not trying to make this about me. At all. I just know that you're feeling all down about Orion and-"

"I just miss him, alright?"

"Where is he?" Laxus frowned. 'I could have sworn I just saw him a few days-"

"I'm not saying that I haven't seen him, Laxus," she complained as, once more, she lost count of the money. With a sigh, she sat it down on the bar before looking up t him. "He just… I guess it's not cool to him anymore, to go places with me and do things together and-"

"Mira." Laxus frowned at her. "He's a boy. He's, what? Fifteen now? Of course that's not fun anymore. He's growing up. He-"

"I'm not stupid," she told him with a glare. "I know that. Just because I know why he's doing something though doesn't make me feel any worse about it."

"Why would you feel bad about it?" he asked. "Huh? There's nothing you can do. You should want him to grow up. It'll give you a chance to get your life back, anyhow. Surely there's something that you want to do, now that he's so busy."

"I don't really see how that involves you, at all."

For a moment, he just stared at her. Then, with a shake of his head, he pushed away from the bar.

"Alright, Mira," he said with a sigh. "You win. I won't care about how you're doing if you don't want me to. That's fine. Whatever. You think that you're the focus of my life? Hardly. Be miserable."

It would have been so easy too, to just let him walk out. Better too. For the both of them. But Mira, though she could be mad at him at anytime, never rightly liked the idea of him feeling the same way towards her.

"Laxus, wait," she called out, staring after him. He only glanced over his shoulder though. "Let's just… Do you want a drink? Here. Sit down and you can drink while I finish closing up. Will that be okay?"

He grunted. "My own damn hall, I drink when I want. Don't just sit around waiting for you to ask me for one."

"Laxus, please. I don't want to fight."

That got him to relax some as he turned around to look at her. "And you think that I do? Mirajane, you know how I feel about you. If it wasn't for the kid, demon, it'd still be me and you. You know that. It still is me and you. Just not openly."

For once, she didn't fight him on that. Only went to pour him his favorite drink and set it in front of a stool. Slowly, Laxus came to sit down, taking a drink first before looking at her.

"What?" he asked at the fact she wouldn't look at him again. "Mira? What did I-"

"Just me and you? Huh?"

"Well, sure. Me and you. It always-"

"That's funny, Lax, considering you're always out with those other women."

"Mira-"

"I'm just saying."

"And I'm just saying that I'm tired of talking about this. What? You want me to stop sleeping with other people?"

"I didn't say that."

"Would you like that?"

"Well, yeah, Laxus, I would."

"So that what? I can wait around for the one time a year, if that, that you and I are together? I'm not doing that, Mira."

"Then why did you bring it up?"

"You brought it up!"

Shaking her head, she went back to counting out the money. "Why do you care then, Master?"

"Don't start with that."

"That's what you are. Master."

"That's not what I am and you know it. I love you, demon."

"You have a horrible way of showing it."

"You sleep with other people too, you know."

"Oh, yes, Laxus, all those lucrative relationships I've had over the years. Just so many men, in and out of the house that I share with my son. Let's see, um, none?"

"Just because you don't take them home doesn't mean you're not fucking them."

That got him a heavy glare then. "You know what, Laxus? Never mind. Let's just not talk."

"I didn't mean it like that," he groaned. "Honest."

"How else could you mean it? You said that I was-"

"I'm just…upset, alright? I don't like having these conversations."

"Oh? And what else could the two of us possibly talk about together? Huh? Since, apparently, having Orion ruined everything-"

"I never said that."

"You just did! Not less than a minute ago. You said if it wasn't for him-"

"Yeah, and if it wasn't, we would still be something, Mira. But he is here. And I ain't hated that fact for a damn second. I've watched over him too, alright? I'm the one that had Bickslow and Ever look out for him. Me. I did that. 'cause I care about him. And I care about you. I'm protecting you."

"I don't need your protection, Laxus! I never even wanted it. And I still don't. You just use that as an excuse to live selfish lifestyle where you just throw money and me and Orion to make yourself feel better as you go out and sleep with half the town."

It was his turn to give an icy glare, which he did then, staring her down from across the bar.

"I'm so sorry, Mira, that I give a damn about you."

"Oh, shut up."

For a minute or two, neither spoke. Mira finally got the money counted and went to put it away, leaving Laxus alone with his drink.

Why couldn't they ever just get along? For longer than five minutes?

"Hey, demon?" he called out while she was still off, putting the jewels away in the safe. "Can you hear me? I'm sorry, alright? And I…I'm just gonna go. I'll see you tomorrow or whatever. I know that I have to just start leaving you alone, but I can't, alright? Maybe things aren't working out, with you being around so much. I'll figure something out, okay? And not bother you as much? Just…have a good night, huh?"

When he didn't get a response, he only sighed and reached into his pocket to pull out some tip (extra) money for her. He was busy counting out a nice wad when she showed back up.

"You are not leaving me all of that."

"And why not?" He didn't look up at her. "Mirajane?"

"Because, Laxus, I don't want-"

"You're gonna take it. Get over it."

"Laxus-"

"Are you finished up here? Or what?" He glanced around. "You still don't have things to do, do you?"

"There's dishes to be washed, the floors need to be swept, and the bathroom-"

"Lisanna works tomorrow, huh? In the morning? Leave it for her."

"What? No. Laxus-"

"I'm walking you home. It's late." He gave her a look. "And that's an order. Get your coat. Don't leave the Master waiting, huh?"

She didn't want to, he could tell, but at the same time she needed to. Just glancing at a clock, he found it to be some time after midnight. He knew she was fine, of course, by herself, that she was safe, but still. Her being all alone in the guildhall that had been destroyed, oh, a billion times over the year by their enemies? No thanks. He'd gladly walk his demon home than have her in there when that happened.

"I haven't been to your house in a long time."

"You're not coming to my house," she told him simply. "You're just walking me home. Not coming in or anything like that."

With a frown, he glanced down at her. "Just for that, demon, I'm coming in."

"You are not."

"Gonna make myself all comfy on the couch. Put my feet up. Remember how it felt to have you wait on me there."

"Laxus-"

"The boy isn't even home," he pointed out. "And he won't be for a few days, huh? Where'd he go on his job?"

"I don't know," she sighed. "He hardly goes through me for them. I think he feels like I baby him or something."

"Well, he is your baby," he was quick to tell her. "And if he's being a little ass to you about it, I'll set him straight."

"And why, Laxus, would you do that? Huh?"

"Because I'm the Master." He flexed. "I can do anything I want."

When they got to her place, he could tell that she was apprehensive about letting him in, but Orion really wasn't around. And she honestly was dead tired. Fighting with him more wouldn't help alleviate that any.

"I'll go put on some tea and-"

"Don't do that, demon." Laxus went immediately to sit down on the couch, stretching out. "Just c'mere. I was real mean, yellin' at you before, huh? Let me-"

"We are not sleeping together." She said it just like that. Flat, as if bored with the idea as well as annoyed with it. "So if that's your endgame, you can get out right now."

"Mira, stop it with this resistance stuff, huh?" He shut his eyes. "If you didn't want to sleep together, you wouldn't have invited me in."

"I didn't invite you! And if you're going to be like this, just get out."

"I'm comfortable." He peeked an eye open. "And calm down. Just come sit with me. What? You think I'd screw you on this couch? I mean, if you're offering-"

"Laxus-"

"We won't do anything. Just come sit. He's not here, he's not going to know. So why are you fighting it so hard?"

"Because, Laxus, we can't keep doing this."

"Doing what? Huh? Being happy? Even if it's just for a little while?"

"Toying with this," she said with a frown. "You didn't want me and Orion and now you don't have us. So why-"

"Hey." He sat up then, opening both eyes as he glared at her. "I did want you. Both of you. But I couldn't have you. So I had to keep you-"

"We already did this once tonight. No more." Turning, she headed out of the room. "Lock up when you leave."

Great. He'd blown it. There was no point in following her then. And, with a groan, Laxus got to his feet to head out of the house.

Only he could manage that. Only him.

That was what Orion was feeling too, when he got back into town a few days later. Only him. Only he was the one that Laxus wanted. He knew it then. For certain. That the man saw something in him.

It had to be clear to everyone else by that point. In front of them all, Laxus had asked him.

"Hey, kid, you gonna mope around here all day? If not, you should come with us. You want to?"

Orion had been sitting up at the bar, listening to his mother tell him about all the things around the guildhall she needed his help with (his aunt had gone off on a job, which left a lot of work to be done), when the Master just came walking up to him. He had his big coat on and looked ready to head out to somewhere, Freed and Bickslow flanking him on either side. The seith gave Orion a thumbs up for some reason while Freed just glanced at Mirajane.

"Master Laxus is being rude," the other man said. "Mira was speaking, I believe. And she seems to be instructing him to-"

"You need someone to help you around the hall, you should have asked me," Laxus grumbled, glancing at the woman too. At first, she'd taken a moment to process what the guy was saying to her son, but she was starting to catch on. And she didn't like it. Not one bit. "I'll get you some help. Kinana and you do need someone else, I suppose, when Lisanna's not around. We're so busy these days. I'll get one of the lowly losers to help out, huh? And come on, Orion. If you're coming, I mean."

If? If? Was there even a need to add that? Really?

"O-Of course!" He popped right up. "Master. I-"

"Laxus," Mira hissed from across the bar, suspicion lacing her tone. "What are you doing? He's not going out with the three of you. You're grown men and he's just-"

"I'm sorry, do barmaids question the Master now and get away with it? Perhaps you've confused me with my grandfather."

"Laxus," Freed whispered under his breath. "Perhaps you have misjudged the situation-"

"Oy, kid." Bickslow hadn't read it well either. He didn't know that Laxus was doing it all just to get back at Mirajane. Not at all. He thought that the man was just going to spend some time with his boy. Sounded great to him. Going to toss an arm around the teen's shoulders, he said, "Your aunt's on a job, huh?"

Orion was too keyed in on his mother then to respond. Turning to look at her (and shove Bickslow off), he said, "What are you doing? Master just asked me to go somewhere with him. Why would you try and ruin that?"

"I'm not," she said, not glancing at the boy. "But you shouldn't be going out with-"

"You can't tell me what to do. If I want to go with the Master then-"

"Hey." Laxus popped him in the back of the head that time, making the boy glare over at him. It was one thing for Laxus to stand against Mira, but to hear their son act that way towards her ticked him off. "That's your mother. You think I outrank her with you then you've got another thing coming. Now apologize."

Mira could tell too, glancing at her son that he was embarrassed. Laxus had just called him out in front of the others. That was probably a thousand times worse than her trying to veto him going.

"Sorry," he mumbled to which Mira just glanced back at Laxus.

"Why would you want him to go anyways?" she asked, though she knew. Of course she knew. He wouldn't be doing it if she didn't at least have some inkling. She'd made a big deal out of him not wanting the boy and, well, now he was going to spend time with him and it was going to be great for both of them. Other than the fact that one knew he was the father of the other while the latter was left in the dark for no conceivable reason other than a curse that made little to no sense in the first place. Other than that, though, they would have a grand ol' time.

Sigh.

"Where are we going?" Orion got out as they left the guildhall finally. Laxus had assigned someone to help Mira out behind the bar before they walked out though. "Master?"

He just grunted and, well, Freed and Bickslow were so busy arguing them over whether or not the latter could actually scale a wall (the seith was insistent that he could, with no help whatsoever) that they didn't answer either. Not that Orion was, like, nervous or anything. So the man that he'd idolized since he was a child just decided to take him out for the day. What? Was he supposed to be, like, intimidated? Or fearful? Or something? Because he wasn't. It was meant to be. Clearly, Laxus had seen how mature he'd become and was finally taking him into his inner circle.

It was bound to happen eventually.

They went to the man's apartment after getting some takeout food which, since he was the low man on the totem pole, they made him carry.

"I used to have to carry it too," Bickslow sighed as he followed along. "They'd say that I was the least valuable person around. Ha! Jokes on them. My babies thing I'm the most important one."

"Important," they cried following along. "Papa."

At Laxus' place they headed into the living room where he already had a card table set out.

"Set the food down here, boy," Laxus grumbled as he slipped his coat off and tossed it onto the couch. "And Freed, go get some drinks, huh?"

"Of course, Laxus," the man said, rushing off to the kitchen to do so.

'Oy, boss," Bickslow complained as he claimed a seat. "Is Elfman not going to be coming around? Ever usually says that we gotta invite him to stuff."

"What do you think the boy's for?" the man grumbled, taking a seat. "He's our fourth now. Elfman can go rot somewhere for all I care."

Slowly, Orion moved to take a seat as well, still uncertain. Bickslow seemed more relaxed though, at the mention of Elfman not showing up, and even snickered.

"You should have asked me, boss," he told Laxus then. "If you wanted a fourth, I couldda got us one real easy."

"Your freaky friends? In my apartment? No thanks. Rather that never comes to fruition."

"Your loss."

"I'll eat it, believe me."

Freed was back then, with the beers, which he sat in front of each of the men. When he got to Orion though, he paused.

"Uh, I do not-"

"The demon let you drink?" Laxus asked as he took a sip from the already popped bottle cap (Freed thought of everything, constantly). "Kid?"

"N-No," Orion said with a shake of his head. "She says-"

"Well the demon ain't here." Laxus winked at him. "Just don't get tellin' on me, huh?"

"Only if you want," Freed was quick to say, as if as a precaution. "Because-"

"I want to," he said quickly. As if there was anything thought to it. Laxus Dreyar, his idol since, like, forever, had just offered him a beer. Of course he'd drink it! All of it. And, when after a sip he found that he hated it, it didn't matter. He'd be drinking it to the last drop. And anything else that was placed in front of him.

It was all great too, being with all those guys. He usually would be nervous, being around Laxus, but the alcohol put him as ease quickly and, well, it was hard to feel anything, but loose around Bickslow. The seith was just so goofy. And Laxus and Freed weren't so bad either. They didn't rebuke him when he didn't completely understand the rules to the card game and neither seemed too annoyed with teaching him. Mostly he just sat there and listened to them talk, trying his hardest not to seem childish or to be a bother.

The men talked about a plethora of things, ranging from their most recent jobs to different women in their lives. They seemed more content with their conversations than actually paying attention to the game at hand. Orion was just glad that he'd recently gone out on a job and had some jewels in his pocket to play with. It would have been completely mortifying if he hadn't.

Eventually, Laxus sent Freed off to get his box of cigars for him.

"You smoke, kid?"

"No," he told Laxus with a shake of his head, just watching as the man lit up. Was he going to…offer him one? Because then yes, Orion definitely did.

"Good." Laxus didn't even glance at him. "You ain't startin' on my account."

"Oy, boss," Bickslow muttered. "You got his hopes up."

"What?" That time, Orion got a glance. "You thought I was givin' you one of these?"

"N-No, I just-"

"Beer, I can explain away to Mirajane. Getting you hooked on these fancy cigars? Not likely."

Freed just bowed his head. "She does not like them, as it were."

"What do you mean?" Orion asked, glancing at the man. "People smoke in the guild all the time."

"Yes, but Laxus' cigars bother her for some-"

"Hey, Freed. Another beer, yeah?" Laxus grumbled, shooting him a glare. "Quickly."

"Me too," Bickslow said with a nod. "And the kid also, boss?"

He glanced at Orion again before shrugging. "One more won't hurt."

Oh, but it would. Orion, for someone who spent so much time around a bar, had never had so much alcohol in him before. And in such a short time span. He hardly could keep his wits about him. And the room was all smoky because, well, Laxus could never have just one cigar. It stunk too, but there was no way that Orion was going to make any complaints. He had to be one of the guys, after all. It might be his only chance.

And all because they didn't like his Uncle Elf. Huh. It was rather shocking, really, considering he did very much so. But hey, to each their own.

The night just drug on too. And, even though Laxus said he was only supposed to have one more, he let the boy try some whiskey too, when that was brought out, though that turned out to be a bad idea.

"You shouldn't have ever given him alcohol," Freed told Laxus after the boy lost nearly everything in his stomach in the bathroom, vomiting up dinner and liquor alike. When he was finished with that, he was so embarrassed that, well, he tried to leave, but Laxus and the other two guys forced him to sit on the couch for a bit and calm down. After that, Bickslow took off, not wanting to get put on puke duty, while Freed took to cleaning up. "You cannot take him home in this condition."

"I ain't takin' him home," Laxus grumbled, nodding over to where the boy was passed out on the couch in that short amount of time. "Demon would have my head. No. You're gonna go down to the hall, tell her that he's sleeping over here, and be done with it."

"Why though, Laxus?"

"Eh?"

"Why would he sleep over here?"

"Because I want him to. What more of a reason could she possibly need? Huh? Now hurry up and clean up." Laxus was heading off to the kitchen then, to get another beer. He'd need it. "Boy's got me all screwed up in the head."

After Freed left, Laxus sat around in the kitchen for awhile, to avoid messing with Orion. Now he'd gotten the kid sick. Great. Mira would never let him take him out again.

The whole point was to show her that yes, he could have been a father. He just wasn't allowed to have the chance, in an attempt to save her. Not to completely screw up and show her that it was a good thing he had never been a real father.

Sigh.

"Hey, kid," he found himself grumbling eventually as he went back into the living room. "Orion. You there, kid? Don't, like, die or something. Completely ruin my life."

Reaching down, he gently patted the boy on the shoulder, making the teen groan slightly.

"Sleepin'," he slurred against the couch pillow. "Stomach hurts."

"Alright, kid. You just try and not, like, die out here and I think we'll be good. Don't try and leave either. Not till mornin' when I think of some good excuse to tell your mother, huh?"

Orion mumbled something else before he conked out again. Which, honestly, was better than him throwing up. A lot better, actually.

Laxus started out of the room, but it wasn't to his own bedroom. No. It was to the kitchen to get a chair and drag it into the living room. With a groan, he sat it by the couch before hunching over to watch the boy.

It would be a long night.

He wondered, at times, during those next few hours, if that was how Mira felt since, oh, Orion had been born. All the times that she had to sit up with him when he was a baby or when he was sick as a child. Making sure that he was still breathing, that he didn't need anything. Probably a lot more than Laxus was doing, really, but he felt like the night was taking a lot out of him.

"You'd probably be dead by now too, kid," Laxus sighed, staring at the sleeping boy. "If Mira had…died. And left me with you. I had you one night and look; I got you drunk and sick and… It wouldn't have worked, you see? Mira had to live. Not just 'cause I love her or whatever. Because I love you. Get it? She had to be around to take care of you. There was no way that I could have. It just… I'm sorry, kid. There was no other way."

When the sun finally came up, Orion hated it with a vengeance. Laxus was going around the apartment, getting ready for the day as he only tried to fight off the pounding in his head.

It wouldn't go away.

"Where am I?" he groaned as he sat up slowly at one point, only to fall back down. "Mmmm."

"You're at my apartment, kid. Don't you remember?"

That sounded like Master, but it seemed very far away. It was actually just from the kitchen, where the slayer was eating breakfast.

No. He didn't remember that. Or anything. Just groaned some more.

"You came over with Bickslow and Freed and ended up getting a little bit too tipsy. Now you're hungover."

"I just wanna sleep."

"Yeah, well, I need to get you outta here and fast. Back over to your mother's. She's gonna flip if I don't. She's probably already worried. And if she comes over here, well-"

"Master?"

"Yeah?"

"Stop talkin'. Please."

It took awhile to get the boy at least some what decent. And then Laxus walked him most of the way home, having to help him along. At the end of the boy's street though, he set him on his way. No need to have a blow up fight with the demon in front of him. No, they could save that for later. Hopefully much later. Like, say, never sounded good for him.

"What happened?" Mira asked the second the boy came stumbling through the backdoor. "Orion?"

She was at the kitchen table, drinking a cup of coffee, and apparently waiting on him. Honestly, she'd expect Laxus to at least face her, but just seeing Orion was enough for her at the moment.

They'd already spoke though, he and Laxus, and, well, the boy knew his one line.

"Late night. With Master. Hung out. Gonna go to bed."

"Orion," she complained as he just disappeared into the house, making off to his bedroom where, after closing the blinds, he hoped to sleep for the rest of eternity.

Or at least until his hangover wore off.

Whichever came first.

And Laxus just sat up at the guild, knowing what was coming. The demon was going to kill him. She really was. And he couldn't even fight her on it. How could he? He'd gotten her son blackout drunk practically for no reason other than he was trying to prove a point to her…that kinda got extremely muddled along the way, but it had been a point, at one time or another.

When Mira did show up, she had quite a few words for him. A lot, actually. And he took them too, back there in his office, away from prying ears. She unleashed on him in as soft a voice as she could pull off, about that was quite the stunt he'd pulled and how irresponsible he was.

He decided not to bring up what age they all started drinking or that fact that he boy came and went as he pleased; Laxus might have been the first to get him that way, but he surely wouldn't be the last. He might not have been an adult, but she treated him like one. Sometimes that meant that bad things happened. It just came with the territory.

But he kept quiet on all that. Just let the demon vent. And when she was done, she didn't talk to him for a week. At least. He didn't try to start any conversations with her either. Just had to let her cool down, was all.

The next time that he went to head out with Freed and Bickslow again though, one weekend night when the guild was pretty much dead, he first went over to Orion, who was busy behind the counter, wiping down the bar and the bottles on the shelf behind it.

Mira, who was behind it as well, eyed Laxus suspiciously, but it was to the boy that he spoke.

"You busy here, boy?" he asked him. "Or can you go out with us?"

Orion about dropped the bottle he was polishing off. Then he looked to Mirajane.

"Can I?" he asked. When he found her dark gaze, he bowed his head. "I mean…I won't stay out all night this time. I promise."

Mirajane didn't want to. Laxus could tell. But, after she gave him a long stare, she just turned to go back to talking to her sister, who was in front of the bar, telling Orion all he needed to. The kid seemed so excited to be with them that Laxus was glad he'd risked it with the demon by asking.

Even if the first time was a disaster.

And that time, none of them drank (much to the displeasure of Bickslow, who cut out early because of it, grumbling about how he had better things to do anyways). Laxus didn't care though about how any of them felt.

It wasn't about Mira not trusting him or him not being there for Orion. It was about the fact that he'd screwed up the first time. And he wouldn't again.

He couldn't be a father, he knew that, but he could be a mentor to the kid. He was finally ready. And damn if he didn't want to be a good one.

Next Chapter

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A lot of people talk about various cuts and changes that negatively affect doctors and nurses, often in a 'the government are killing the NHS so they can privatise' thing, but there's one thing I don't get. Do the government and higher ups not realise that of there aren't any doctors or nurses there... Aren't any doctors and nurses? For anyone?

Well, that’s a question and a half! I apologise in advance that this is going to be a long and rambling answer, but I do feel that a bit of background on the NHS would help it all make sense. I guess the answer would depend on just how much into conspiracy theories you are, and what your overall view of the government there is. We all differ in what we think, and just how much we trust politicians, but I urge each and every person to just take their time and consider what ANY person’s motivations may be. Politically, financially, personally, when thinking about their actions. Never assume people intend to do the worst, but neither assume people are always trying to do the best, either. Because people are complicated. Obviously, I think most sensible people would agree that less doctors and nurses are a problem. However, I doubt that most people could agree exactly what to do about it, especially if they had to spend money to make it happen. The way that our workforce changes is complex, and governed by a lot of different things going on with the NHS...Short Term GoalsSee, the government is only usually in power for 2-3 terms, then it becomes the opposition’s problem to sort out. So politicians are incentivised to focus on short term ratehr than long term solutions. You’ll notice politics is all about fiddling around with stuff, but it appears that we keep having to reform everything; reforms to health, reforms to education; politicians are frequently announcing that their party are gonna revolutionise and fix things. Every party wants to be able to say that they’ve delivered some of the promises they made to be voted in during the last election, and fiddling around with stuff seems like an innate part of that. Some people feel that politicians prioritise this part too much. You’ll also probably notice that politicians might not have much real world experience outside of politics. Many of them even studied politics at uni, and proportionally a smaller number of them had real world jobs before politics. So your politician in charge of health won’t have been a doctor, nurse or paramedic, probably never had any experience in running a hospital, and hopefully listens to the people who advise them on what it is actually like. You hope.  Anyhow, you’ll also notice that things called cabinet reshuffles occur; so the politician in charge of say, education might be moved to foreign policy. Or someone might be moved from prisons to being in charge of healthcare. Now, we all use healthcare. But that doesn’t mean everyone can agree on what the best thing is to do. And arguably, many of us believe that politicians tend to be motivated by making a point that they’ve done something for the past few years, rather than setting up a longer term plan that they may not get a chance to finish. Doctors and Nurses and demoralisation I personally believe imposing contracts on doctors was a BAD idea. You might finger wag and tell us it’s better for us (uh, we can do maths... we know some of us really lost out), but even if it genuinely was better for us, people don’t do well with being ignored and having their terms of employment changed. It breeds resentment. We feel more vulnerable to being overworked, some of us get paid more, others less, the system is more confusing, and this feeds into people’s general burnout and resentment, meaning people who were on the fence about remaining in the NHS are more likely to leave. Same for the ridiciulous pay rise caps for staff in general ( which have all been below inflation for the past several years, meaning that we are, in real terms, paid less every year) which I really don’t think helped in retaining nurses and other staff like paramedics. Nurses, HCAs, physios, paramedics and many other hospital staff are really paid modestly for the work they do, so not even making sure that their pay is in line with inflation was a really sucky move. I think they are finally relaxing this, but for many nurses it might be too little, too late. The nurses who long decided that they can’t afford to do their job any more? A tiny pay rise may not be enough to get them to stay. I promise you that most nurses aren’t earning bucket loads; I’ve met uber drivers who used to nurse. I don’t think the government have any real idea how to fix demoralisation, and really it’s generally just been made worse by lots of the changes. Calling our BluffWhat’s a word you associate with doctors and nurses? Caring? Vocation? Commitment? We’re seen as staff who are highly passionate about what we do. And because of this, it’s believed that we’ve bought into the jobs we have. And we generally do; it’s part of our identity. It changes how we think, how we live, and to a huge degree, who we are. I’m not the same person I was in school; I’ve learned to think more analytically, to assess things more coolly, and to think more carefully before I speak. But I think it’s true that it becomes a part of your very identity, and that we’re very, very emotionally tied to our jobs. Also, we’ve put our eggs in one basket. We’ve spent years or even decades training to do this one thing, so we’re kind of stuck with it. Some of us have other talents and hobbies, but on the whole medicine kinda ties you down and takes away all your free time. And politicians know this. They know we’re emotionally attached to our role, and tied into medicine. So do journalists, if the papers were anything to go by last year.  I suspect that when we protested, a lot of people said “yeah, as if they are all gonna quit!”. People know we care about patients. They also know we put up with a lot of crap already, and that’s why people assume we’ll just put up with lots more. And we do put up with so much. And  many of us will keep putting up with things if things get worse; I’ll be honest with you, we won’t all quit, because people need to put food on the table and because we like helping people. But many of us staying isn’t always enough. Even if some of us leave, the rest will really struggle to cope. Most rotas have empty slots; people have been leaving for some time, and there’s a real need for doctors and nurses to fill those gaps. I’m talking about most (if not every hospital) being short of significant numbers of doctors and nurses. Not just the odd one here and there. But of course, the politicians don’t see how this affects us. If a hospital is standing, patients still get care, and they are understaffed, someone might think “well, they seem to be coping”, not realising that this means everyone is more stressed and working harder, staying late, and fighting to keep patients safe. Being overworked increases our risk of harm to patients, because we don’t have the same amount of time to check things are done right, so missing things is more likely. And I think some people use this against us. People throw the vocation card at you. “But it’s a vocation!” they say. You should be motivated by your sheer passion for helping people, alone. And it frustrates me, because if we want to improve working conditions or patient care, how dare you imply that we lack vocation?! I’d like anyone who thinks this way to come and see what we do, before they say something like that. Although docs and nurses aren’t motivated by money, it’s true to say that we can’t live on fuzzy feelings and altruism; even though we may not want pay rises, the things we’d suggest to make the NHS better (like better staffing, more equipment etc) would all cost money. I don’t think I have many suggestions that are free. And that’s why we fear that things won’t get better; even if we have suggestions on how to improve things, there probably won’t be the funds to make it happen. We actually do a lot of small audits and quality improvement projects on what we can do to improve healthcare that we give in our departments, to try and make things better (on a budget; we do this research all for free and for portfolio points), but there’s only so much you can do for free. How do you get more staff?You’ll notice that governments are fond of annouincing that they will find more nurses or doctors. Sometimes they even use the words ‘train’ more. But ALWAYS ask yourself; are they going to pay for it? How long will it take to train them? Have they actually increased med school/nursing school places to accommodate this? Can universities even accommodate those figures? Because a lot of the figures coming out just seem implausible. No, you won’t get X thousand more GPs very fast, because it’s areal struggle to recruit to training, and it takes 10 years to get someone through med school and to become a qualiffied GP. And that’s assuming people want to do the job and are staying in medicine, which they may well not. I’m not a fan of the idea of forcing people to stay, which is occasionally floated. People like to raise large scary figures of ‘how much it costs to train a doctor’, but those figures also include things like our tuition fees, the costs WE pay towards exams and training, and our actual salaries. The money the government pays hospitals to train us just seem to to into the general hospital pot. The only official training I’ve ever got since I graduated med school was 1 hour of weekly teaching by a consultant. And a couple of simulation courses now and again. The rest of our learning is from my own reading, preparing for exams, and talking to our colleagues. Most of the learning we do is informal, due to the good will of our peers and our seniors. We teach each other; I’m not paid any more for instilling my advice into my peers, it’s just part of our job to educate each other.  So I personally get mad when these figures are used to justify forcing people to stay. Because having talked friends who were really, really having a bad time with medicine off metaphorical ledges, I really don’t agree with the idea of forcing people to stay. I’m not an indentured servant, and the government isn’t tying all its other graduates to their supposed jobs, so I don’t see why a workforce with a worse than average risk of  burnout, mental health problems and suicide should be tied down against their will. It’s a very, very bad idea, and it’s one of the things that will completely evaporate any remaining goodwill between us and our employer. We put in blood sweat and tears, but if that’s not valued then our relationship with our employer will change. It’s hard to care about someone who doesn’t care about you. Don’t force us to stay. Make us not want to leave. We’re passionate people. We went into this because we loved it and wanted to dedicate our lives to it. If we’re leaving, it’s not a poorly thought out decision; medicine is part of our identity and nobody discards that cape so easily. Let’s poach doctors and nurses from other countries!And this is kind of what we’ve been doing. The NHS owes a huge debt to countries like India. I’m not talking about my British Asian colleagues who, like me are from immigrant backgrounds; we have a lot of colleagues who were born, educated and medically trained abroad who have come over here to work as (most often) doctors and nurses. And this is cheap for our country because somewhere like India trains a doctor, who comes over here effectively for free and works for us. Or all the nurses trained by the Phillippines, or Spain or Romania etc. This is much cheaper than training more staff here (who might then go abroad themselves), but it’s not sustainable and it’s not ethical in huge numbers to brain drain other countries. So you can argue that the government (to go back to your original question) are probably hoping that if current staff leave, they might be able to replace them with new ones. Perhaps even new ones who are willing to put up with worse conditions because they are used to worse. Perhaps I’m being cynical, but that’s often the case when you bring in foreign workers. Always think about the working conditions that workers are being asked to tolerate. I really personally think the government aren’t taking retention of qualified seriously enough. I don’t know why that is; some people might believe it’s deliberate, others might just believe politicians are inept. Maybe they just don’t know how to keep us. I suspect that it’s a balance for them; between keeping staff and trying to ‘find savings’ and ‘deliver promises’ of a 24h NHS (hint: we already have 24h emergency care, but you don’t need a routine appointment at 3am). The contract debacle makes me suspect that they want to claw back some money from the NHS, because the way they treated us doctors certainly wasn’t to make US feel better. There has to have been a financial reason for it, and most of us think that the reason was to make it cheaper to roster us for more hours or more antisocial/oncall hours. Effectively a pay cut, but by another name. Because if you do more difficult work for the same money, that would have paid more, then your pay is effectively cut, even if it technically stays the same. I have no trouble believing that the government could want to get more out of us. Because we’re a resource that provides a service. I don’t know if people at the top see me as more than a machine; I believe actions, not words, and it’s been a long while since most of us have seen actions that suggest otherwise. I think THAT’s what really demoralised many of my colleagues; feeling like we’re just being treated like robots that provide care. At any rate, they suck at retaining staff. The system is stressful, they keep mucking us about with our contracts and our training, and it’s just a big extra headache on top of the whole saving lives kinda thing. You have so many trained, passionate people who are already highly skilled, and you let them burn out and they leave medicine or nursing and never come back. And people keep talking about bringing in mroe, but nobody talks about what is causing us to leave. because the real answers would cost money; better staffing, better funding, better organisation. And politicians don’t like spending money, because there’s never enough to go around. It’s cheaper to poach trained staff than it is to train your own. And it’s trickier to retain the ones it is than it is to just offer to bring in more. Let’s Talk about MoneyArguably, most people would support paying more for the NHS, if any tax rise was guaranteed to be for that. Most people on the street value healthcare. So people in general are quite sceptical; why do politicians not do this? It seems straightforward. Obviously, people don’t like tax rises, and there’s always arguments about who should be taxed more, where it should go, etc, but I think healthcare is one of the few things people are generally supportive of. And they’d be even more so if they realise we’re paying less than most Western contries for healthcare. Only, there’s a lot of misinformation being spread. I routinely read comments declaring the NHS ‘inefficient’ and ‘bloated’, but we pay less than many countries per head, and bodies like the King’s Fund or even more independent bodies usually rate the NHS highly on efficiency. This narrative suits people who want to argue that the NHS needs more cuts and reorganising (hint: people who work in the NHS hate reorganising because it makes no difference at the frontline level and it wastes time and money hospitals don’t have), and the idea that we don’t need more money to offer improtant services, we just need to be better with the money we have. Which passes the blame from the government (whose NHS budgets have not been meeting recommended amounts) to hospitals, who should just be expected to make do with what they’ve got. Interestingly, hospitals aren’t just handed money for existing and having patients that need care, they have to meet targets to actually be funded. So if they are struggling, and miss targets, they get penalised, get less money or the coming year/s. Which most sensible people would realise is a problem; how can they do better if they have less money with which to improve? When hospitals get declared really bad and put in special measures, they get some more funding and attention (and more CQC visits) to help put them right. But the penalty system can appear a bit flawed because most hospitals are already struggling and many are ‘overspending’.  I don’t know what we would replace this with, but I’m a little uneasy about how it all works at present. Aaand in Summary, People Just Don’t Trust PoliticiansGiven that it’s sensible to assume we’d want to keep doctors and nurses on board, people come up with all sorts of reasons why politicians choose the choices they do. Why impose contracts? Why freeze pay? Why not train more? Why not improve working conditions? And people come up with all sorts of interesting answers. Some people believe politicians are just inept; perhaps they don’t know how to run healthcare. Perhaps treating us like robots is backfiring. Perhaps they’ve just assumed we’d put up with crap, but they overestimated how much crap we’re willing to put up with. Perhaps they are trying to think of ways to force us to stay, but they just aren’t working, or can’t be implemented. People are fallible; running a health service is hard. All parties mess up; I don’t believe in laying all the blame on one person or one party alone. Others believe politicians are deliberately running the NHS down for political or financial reasons. Because certain companies (hint: private healthcare) would benefit hugely if the NHS was privatised. It would be huge. And companies are powerful and good at lobbying, and many of us fear how much of a role they may have behind the scenes. It doesn’t help that Hunt co-authored a book about dismantling the NHS. Many people are afraid of who politicians might be lobbied by; because politicians are human with their own personal interests. Many have stakes in private healthcare companies, so arguably some politicians are financially better off if the NHS struggles as more people will go private. Companies tend to look after their own vested interests first and foremost; the way corporations run is built around making more money for themselves, and whilst I wouldn’t say they never act ethically, most people are wary of them. Some people think this is all deliberate. Some politicians gain financially from private healthcare companies, but there’s a general fear of whether others are being influenced by lobbies. Large companies are very, very powerful, and they are motivated to protect their financial interests at all costs, so it’s very sensible to be afraid. Many are particularly afraid that we’d get a US style of healthcare if things were privatised here, and US healthcare is incredibly costly and inefficient; they pay something like 3-4 times more per person for healthcare than we do. And lots of people still can’t afford basic treatments. For many of us working in the NHS, that’s a nightmare scenario. We’re motivated by doing our best to help people, and part of why we try so hard with the problems we have, is because it’s for the NHS.It’s a very popular theory that the governent want to run the NHS down to privatise it, and therefore sell it off to private companies. And it’s hard to argue with something like this, when it happened in the past with rail. So it’s hard to argue against such a conspiracy theory. Because yeah, they would make a ton of money from selling it off. And yeah, they’d have someone else to blame when it all goes wrong, which is something people love because suddenly they arent technically responsible. In terms of politics, that’d be a huge change, and in some ways advantageous to politicians. Arguably, politicians have access to private health care, or at least the funds to access it, so many people are wary because they know that politicians are likely to be OK regardless. I personally hope politicians don’t feel like that, but I know little about what they think or feel so I don’t wish to make assumptions either way. This certainly isn’t eveything about healthcare, but I hope it at least gives you a few ideas of the theories going around, and what it’s like from the inside.

Terry David “Butch/Butch Naked” Silvercloud

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Wednesday 27 Dec. 2017  The days are becoming longer, again.  Hooray.  I really dislike the very short days of winter.  Grey, cool and damp with light raindrops and snow flurries.  I got a lot of painting done, taking it light on exercises... my hips are hurting so I'm taking a sit up break and doing toe touching.

The end of another year.  Time to reflect and make plans for the coming year.  I've been doing the nude selfies for 3 years, now.  It was meant to be a one year project but I've been exercising more since I began pain management and hormone replacement.  I was feeling pretty crappy back in 2012 but, finally, found some good doctors and a good family doctor who had a hunch what my problem was and, now, I'm in hormone replacement therapy.

I hurt a lot but have learned to live with my aches.  They are under control about 2/3 of the time and the rest I've had to adjust to as part of my life.  Being old sucks.

So... still not sure what the coming year will be.  I am a year behind on my painting projects.  They were supposed to have been completed a year ago.  Oh well.  The good part is I've gotten a lot better at the painting thing and have developed a style quite my own.  Woohoo... or something.

As for the naked selfies?  Who knew so many people would want to see a naked old man?  Well, I have no shame and, if you wish to see my balls, it's OK with me.  I am, however, getting close to finishing the landscape painting project... over 25 landscapes in acrylic paint.  I have a large number of oil painting not completed and a large acrylic male nude to complete.  I want to put my energy into my paintings and making more podcast style videos.  I have an excellent theory about the cause of the Speed of Light that I want to spread around. (http://ElectronSpeed.Tumblr.com)

I'm trying, as best I can, to stay in shape so I'll continue to record my naked body but will, likely, not attempt to make it a daily thing.  I'm already OCD and changing my habits is hard once I get into something.  It takes time to upload photos and videos, so I plan to keep doing it but, more likely, every several days, or weekly.  Weekly would be best, I think.  I'll work it out over the next few days.  I want to do more video stuff... it's time consuming.

Anyhow, it's the end of 2017.  Can't believe I'm still alive.

FREE SPEECH is becoming an endangered subject.  It's becoming like a Henry Ford Model T.  You can have any colour you want so long as it's black.

Universities, those cash gouging institutions of poor learning try, not only, to crank more and more idiots through a course of meaningless shit for a meaningless degree taught by teachers who know little, they have become forces against progress and learning.  If you don't have a PhD, your degree didn't teach you very much and you likely forgot most of what you learned.  

If you have a Bachelor's degree, and nothing more, you blew your cash to bribe your way into a job you are likely not qualified for, anyway.  I have zero respect for a Bachelor of Arts degree... none.  You're not qualified for anything, at all.  You, likely, would fail a good grammar exam because your command of English is so poor.  I expect you know nothing much about anything.  You, likely, have poor math skills and know nothing of history, at all.  NADA.  Our educational system is in need of a complete overhaul.

There is no reason, at all, why every grade of school should not be online, 24 hours a day... every course, every subject, available to everyone, 24 hours a day... at home.  It would be constantly updated and improved with new knowledge.  Teachers who don't know much of their subject would become obsolete, rather quickly.  The only requirement to get a degree would be to pass a set of exams set by government.  Prove your identity, do the exams, and you're in.  Anyone, anywhere, could have an education in every grade and subject.  Schools, as we know them would become obsolete.

Now, if anyone has an opinion outside of the common thought, one is a heretic likely to lose one's job and position.  Universities bar speakers with opinions not shared by the common idiots.  We live in a world with no child left behind, everyone is as qualified as everyone else and everyone is a hero.  I so hate this world I, quite truly, look forward to being dead.  Seriously... I hate this planet and wish I had never been born into it.  I'm trying, my best, to save your idiot asses from a horrific future that is coming to this sick, sick, sick, sick planet.

I don't have the answers as to how to save the planet.  I expect nature to take its course and the bulk of the planet to die off, very soon.  We have terrible leaders and a hopeless population.  A benevolent dictatorship is the only way to rule this barbaric rock of a planet.

The problem is finding leaders who are qualified to rule.  The Chinese seem to be evolving into the future power on the planet.  I expect the Chinese will take over the planet.  They are totally ruthless and have no morals of any kind.

I said it, I mean it.  Oh?  You don't like my opinion?  Well, fuck you asshole.  I've tried 'nice'.  Nice does not work.  Have you ever noticed how con artists are all buddy buddy when they meet you?  All smiles and acting like your long lost friend?  It all goes well until you don't play along then it's "fuck you".  I try to be  nice to everyone and am not likely to make friends with anyone.  I don't trust humans one little bit.  You will have to prove yourself to me and I don't wait up.

"My little Eric can be, sometimes, a bit dramatic"  Eric Cartman's Mother/South Park

“it’s time to go home.  The insurance company said you’re as well as they’re going to pay for” Doctor Hibbert/The Simpsons

THIS IS THE END OF THE DAILY GRIND.

"He who controls the stuffing, controls the Universe."  Alien Pilgrim transported through a worm hole to Earth/South Park.

IF YOU HAVEN’T BEEN HERE, BEFORE, HERE IS MORE STUFF TO READ…

"People who have never seen a movie say it's a great movie"  Apu/The Simpsons

"There is no God, Ned.  It's just an empty meaningless void"  Maude Flanders' ghost/The Simpsons

I repeat myself, a lot, because I know humans are really bad at paying attention, and understanding much of anything they read.  Quite, bluntly, I consider most humans to be walking, talking idiots.  I'm doing as best I know how to save you from your stupidity.

I’m a bit OCD and ADHD and go on, and on, like a dripping tap.  Think Sheldon Cooper, if that rings some kind of bell.  I gather it’s some kind of need I have to be, constantly, in complete control of everything.  I quite simply assume everyone around me is a complete idiot.  The humans aren’t doing a very good job of convincing me otherwise.  You must prove yourself to me.  Seriously, I mean it.  I expect to be disappointed.   Show me what you’ve got and back it up with proof.

http://DavidSilvercloud.com (Blog)   ��(http://David_Silvercloud.Tumblr.com)

http://ButchNews.com (Video)     (http://YouTube.com/ButchNews)

http://ButchNaked.com (Photo Stream)    (http://Flickr.com/David_Silvercloud)

http://SeriousThunder.com (Art)

http://ElectronSpeed.Tumblr.com     The Electron sets the speed of light… yup.  Physics… The Speed of Light, Grand Unified Theory, Gravity, Dark Matter, Dark Energy… how the physical size of the Electron is the clock that sets the speed of light.  Gravity is motion and a product of the fact that nothing ever sits still, combined with the magnetic properties of Dark Matter/Energy.  Nothing can ever move in an absolute circle and rest is a relativity illusion.

The ENTIRE universe is based upon a simple fact... it must have TWO parts.  It can not be otherwise and is impossible to be otherwise.  This is because of what a physicist calls "spin".

If you had only one substance to make the universe with and it could be broken down to as small as it needed to be at any time... i.e. it could be so small it barely exists, at all, there will STILL be TWO different types... that is because one can choose to spin LEFT or RIGHT in space.  Even turning yourself upside down will not change that fact because there is no up, nor down, in space.

The fact that everything SOLID must have spin, either left or right, introduces opposite forces.  Things which spin the SAME way repel each other, those that spin the OPPOSITE way attract each other... clumping begins and so does a universe.  Another thing comes into being... what we term magnetism.  There MUST be opposite POLES... magnetism comes into being with spin.  Spin creates opposites, including North/South polarity.  In Atoms, any atom that isn't in balance... has an equal number of left and right spinning Electrons, will be affected by magnetism... and radio waves.

Absolute rest is not possible… ever.  For instance, the Sun and planets are moving around the Milky Way at about 230Km/S and the Milky way is moving through space about 400-600 Kilometres per second.  Nothing ever goes backwards, nothing ever travels in a circle.

The universe can not end.  Time is change and is an illusion.  Time is entirely relative to how large/small something is.  If you are an Electron of less than 1/1,000,000,000,000,000th of a metre, in size, one second is a VERY, VERY, VERY, long time.  One foot is a VERY, VERY, VERY long distance to an Electron.  Light travel just less than ONE FOOT in a billionth of a second.  Time awareness is entirely dependent on how large something is.  The Milky Way requires over 150 million light years to exist... it is HERE and THERE, at the same time... a single entity that requires over 150 million light years to cross... or how an Electron views a distance of several feet.

It is always now, everywhere, all at once, all of the time. Proof of that is that ANY object MUST be HERE and THERE at the SAME time, no matter how large… even a Galaxy.  It is always NOW on both sides… here and there, in space,  of the Galaxy… all galaxies, everywhere.  Waves can be either physical or electronic.  The duality of the universe keeps it ongoing.  DNA is the battery of life.  When the chains can no longer co-operate, life ceases in the body.  Life, itself, is a duality.  Time measurement is a relativity convenience.)  Time travel is impossible because time is not a place and nothing stays where it was.  One year from now the Solar System will have moved about seven BILLION kilometres through space and will NEVER return to where it was… ever.

Earth travels through space like a long wave… it has NEVER, ever made an actual circle, nor ellipse, in space.  The circle/ellipse is an illusion of relativity.  Nothing can ever travel in an actual circle in space… NOTHING.  Nothing can ever go backward.  Backwards motion is an illusion of relativity.  Time is a repercussion of change and has no fixed rate… things explode or move like a glacier.  At best we can only compare rates of change.  Our rate of change is called the second/minute/hour/day/month/year system.

NOTHING CAN EVER MOVE IN A TRUE CIRCLE.  THE EARTH HAS NEVER MADE A LOOP IN SPACE… EVER.  YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU DON’T KNOW.

WATCH VIDEO FOR EXPLANATION OF THE PATH OF EARTH THROUGH SPACE.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IPjohZCMwmI

Earth moves about 7 billion kilometers through space, each year… in a long wave.  Earth NEVER returns to where it was before.  Earth is NOT an island in space… one of the reasons why time travel is impossible.  If you take a trip through space, outside the Solar System, Earth will NOT be there when you return… it will be far, far away.  You will have to return to where it will BE when you arrive… remember, it’s moving very, very, very fast through space in a long wave… never a circle, or ellipse.

http://The-Shape-Of-God.Tumbler.com   Manuscript of my book… The Shape of God.

Butch, himself.  Visual Artist, Photographer, Physicist (Particle, Sub/Atomic Physics/Relativity)

Inhibitions are just so inhibiting, I avoid them.

I’m a friendly, but pretty blunt, kind of guy.  No time for beating around the bush.  I like to say what I mean and mean what I say.  I’m 73 years old.  Time is not on my side.  You don’t have to like me.  I’m a social recluse, anyway.  I share my life, in photos, video, and words, to let you into my life and hope to inspire you to be a productive and useful human.  I have old age issues but will continue to post, here, while I’m well and able.  I talk a lot… I’m told it’s part of my OCD and ADHD.  Come direct at http://ButchNaked.com  Sign in if you wish to see me naked.

If you don’t know me, the following might help you get to know what kind of person I am.  I don’t expect you to understand me.  I can be a bit OCD and ADHD.

“They’ve already got more blowjobs than we’ll ever get”  Steve Smith (American Dad), talking about college jocks.

“Now let us touch testicles and mate for life”  Alien on The Simpsons

“It never hurts to have a second set of prints on a gun”  Nelson Muntz, The Simpsons.

I’m here to teach you things.  While I appreciate other people’s opinions, I really don’t much give a crap what anyone thinks.  Until you prove your worth, I will be nice but you have to earn my respect. The moment you say a word, I’ll be figuring you out really, really fast.  You should assume that I don’t trust anyone.  I’ve not met a single trustworthy person in my entire life.  I’ve met lots of nice people who aren’t too bright… well-intentioned folk who know little about anything, people who are nice, most of the time until you say something that offends them.  Honourable people agree to disagree.

Look up the phrase “CRITICAL THINKING” then learn to practice it.  Most people leap before they look and judge before they listen to the facts.  Most don’t have enough knowledge, nor experience, to be experts in much of anything.  You don’t know what you don’t know.  I like to remind you of that, often.

The only other REALLY IMPORTANT thing to know about me is that I, totally, despise all religions, the teaching of religion, and religious institutions… I despise them as the evilest things on the planet.  If you follow a religion, you CAN NOT BE MY FRIEND.   THAT’S THAT.  You are an ignorant idiot who is an ever-present danger to yourself and everyone and everything around you.  Nothing, absolutely NOTHING, is eviler than religion.  I don’t stand for, nor sing, our National Anthem because it praises a fictitious and superstitious being called ‘God’.  Only a brain dead moron bonehead ignorant idiot would believe such a thing.

If you have a religion, I will not associate with you… period.  You are a danger to be around.  Yes, I insult religions… they are extraordinarily evil.  I said it, I mean it.  You have a right to be an idiot, but not around me.  I have a right to defend myself against the horrors of religion and I will.  Religion is evil.  People who are into religion are, either, brainwashed or extraordinarily ignorant, not very intelligent, a danger to themselves and everyone around them, and must be avoided.  I can’t say it enough times.  If you have a religion you are brainwashed or too fucking stupid to associate with.  Brainwashed, or stupid… either way you are too dangerous to be around.  Religion is the number one problem in the world.

http://The-Shape-Of-God.Tumblr.com

I keep a homepage at http://ButchBoard.com

My main video page is http://YouTube.com/ButchNews   go direct at http://ButchNews.com

You may come directly to my photostream at http://ButchNaked.com You may download and share nude photos of me… go nuts.

I have zero inhibitions about nudity and sex.  You must sign in to see me naked.  I talk, openly, about sex.  You may download and share nude photos of me… go nuts.

"Wow!  THAT had what I really like in a story... an ending."  Homer Simpson.