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cryptidsofwakemoor · 2 days

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Chapter 10 - Paranoia

"You... are one of OUR products, Matchstick. Don't forget that."

~*~

Mystic

Tikki works on her own omelet in comfortable silence, letting her guest relax by the fire while she filled her own egg patty with her additions of choice. Once her folded egg taco was on the plate, she drizzled some kind of red liquid over top of it, and took up those metal tools he could never quite understand the purpose of. Lifting her plate, she goes to sit at the couch, and- uses the tiny knife and spoked thing to poke and cut her omelet, eating it off the utensils.

Oh. That’s what they were for. She didn’t need to get food on her hands at all.

…

“Have you been on the streets your whole life?” Tikki asks, quiet.

Spooky

He looks up from watching her cut the omelet and poke it with the pronged thing, before frowning a little and shaking his head no.

No, being on the streets was a relatively new thing for him. In a way, he had kind of lucked out that adaptability was part of his training, otherwise he may not've survived very long, but... This probably wasn't what they had in mind while training him. It was more for use in battle.

He glances down at the floor in front of him, wishing he still had the snow and stick to help him explain things. The best thing he could do for now, though, was try and sum up everything he could into one word, and force it out of his uncooperative throat.

"L.. ll- laa... b," he rasps, looking back at her.

Mystic

Tikki, who had been mid-bite of her own omelet, chokes on the piece of food. She has to pound on her chest for a second before the food is dislodged, and she can breathe again.

In just one word, that was- quite a bit of information to swallow. Just like her omelet.

"I'm- hkf- sorry," Tikki apologizes, rubbing at her throat for a moment. "You- wh- but- how-? You came from a lab? Excuse me? As in- wait-"

She frowns, staring into space. He can see it in her eyes- she was putting together a lot of puzzle pieces. She sets aside the plate, losing her appetite in this moment.

"...that- suddenly a lot of things make sense. But- why were you in a lab?"

Spooky

He looked alarmed when she choked on her food, but once she'd dealt with that enough to ask him more questions, he ducked his head slightly and slid his hand over the nape of his neck. He gave a small shrug, mainly because he didn't know how he'd got there. He couldn't really remember being anywhere else, leading him to think that maybe he was born there…? Though there were some things he could just barely recall that seemed to contradict that.

He knew what trees were, before he’d even escaped. They'd never let him outside, not once, but he could picture outside, sometimes in dreams... And there were other things, too. Faded voices and shapes, and strong emotions attached that left him feeling lost, scared, and like he'd been hollowed out whenever he thought about it too hard.

So usually, he didn't.

All he had for an answer as to why he was there was what they were developing him for.

"...w... wepn," he mumbled, avoiding eye contact and looking back at the burning fireplace.

Mystic

...There's a long pause.

Even though he wasn't facing her, he could feel her eyes boring into him. Analyzing.

Behind his back, the scales on the back of Tikki's arm start to stand on end. She clasps at her forearms with her hands, clenching her jaw as she wills the beast back into the depths, forcing the scales back down.

The thought, and all the implications it carried, made her so, so angry. But she just got back to normal from a shift- if she let it happen again so soon, it would exhaust her. She'd be so depleted of energy that she wouldn't want to move for a week, and she wasn't in a position to let that happen anymore.

"...Okay," she says, finally. A brief, forceful exhale as she quells her outrage for his sake. "I see why you ran away, now."

Tikki puts her chin in one hand, thinking. Then her eyes flick to the door. Then back to him in worry.

"...Am I gonna get in trouble with the law or something if someone finds out you're in my house? Are YOU in trouble with whoever you ran from?"

Not that she was particularly bothered by the idea of someone reprehensible showing up at the door. She'd welcome the opportunity to feed someone a knuckle sandwich and have it be sweet justice. But not at the cost of somebody else being put in danger.

Spooky

Feeling her staring, he glanced back at her, worried he'd made her angry at him. He could sense the tension, and his eyes turned downwards as he fidgeted with his hands.

Her questions didn't assuage his nerves any, either... because he had, if only for a brief time due to the distractions and curious things in this house, forgotten he was being hunted.

He was hesitant to answer, worried that confirming this fact would get him thrown out. Tikki was nice, but to get involved in anything like this seemed like too much to ask of anyone.

He didn't know what this 'law' was, but he knew the Aria Corporation was big, and they had a lot of resources. Hell, their damn logo still haunted him whenever he sneaked into town, never truly letting him forget that he wasn't safe.

...It wasn't fair not to tell her, though. To not at least try and warn her about what she was getting into if she let him stay in her home.

Looking conflicted, he finally nodded. Setting aside his disc, he reached down and tried to trace a shape on the rug with his finger, but it wasn't very clear.

Mystic

A long, sad sigh.

"...ok. I figured."

Tikki glances at the rug, leaning to see what he was drawing- but she couldn't make anything out from here. Hm. Maybe he was just doodling from the stress. She did sorta put him on the spot, all of the sudden.

"...well, I'm not going to just let you freeze to death in the snow," she says, frowning. "And whoever uses a kid test subject for scientific experiments is super fucked up, I'll tell you that."

Standing up from the couch, she moves to sit on the rug next to him, scooting a bit closer so she's near enough for expression of comfort, but just at the edge of his personal space. She looks down at the carpet as she talks, idly trying to decipher his finger-drawing on the floor.

"I don't have much to offer, Sticks. I do have a roof, and food, sometimes. I don't make a lot of money, and I'm dealing with my own demons- but I'd still like to help you, somehow. If you want it?"

Spooky

He doesn't seem able to get the tracing of his finger across, so he stops. The best that could be deciphered from it was that he seemed to be writing an 'A' for part of it. If he was trying to make a word, though, the rest of the scrawl was incomprehensible. There didn't seem to be any other letters, and even the A was kind of questionable.

He looked unsure at her offer, not because he was keen on turning his figurative nose up at it though. Moreso, he was worried. She already had stress from turning into the silver beast, and didn't have much money, and... he didn't know what 'demons' were, but that didn't sound good either.

...

But at the same time, he didn't wanna go back to taking his chances in that hole in the ground. Not after he knew what being in a warm house on a soft rug, with not one but TWO blankets was like.

His eyes searched her expression. She really did seem to want to help...

He hugged his pillow close and gave a little nod, before resting his chin on it.

Mystic

He feels more than sees her hand clasp onto his shoulder, squeezing once in reassurance before letting go.

"Okay," she says, offering him a little smile. "I'll do what I can."

Tikki leans back to the couch again, and takes her plate with the half-eaten omelet. She sets it on the carpet and slides it over to him, letting it rest by his knee.

"Here- you can have the rest of mine. I wasn't very hungry, anyway."

A lie. Shifting consumed a lot of calories she had to replenish, which she had every intention of doing so later when he was asleep or something. But right now, she lost her appetite. At least this way the food wouldn't go to waste.

Tikki stands up, stretching her shoulders and wiggling her webbed toes.

"I don't know a lot about you, and that's fine- you don't have to share what you don't want to." Tikki scratches behind her head, starting back towards the kitchen to start cleaning. "Just let me know how I can best help you, alright?"

Spooky

He looked from the offered omelet half to her, before he picked it up with his hand and stuffed it in his mouth, licking the remaining red sauce off his fingers. This had a different taste than his, but was still good!

He didn't seem as keen to get up, covered in fluffy blankets as he was. While he wasn't full, his stomach was no longer empty, and going from being outside in the snow with almost no clothes for most of the day to taking a hot bath and sitting all bundled up next to a roaring fireplace... Sleepiness was definitely setting in, and his eyelids drooped.

He nodded in response to her, rubbing at one of his eyes with the palm of his hand.

"Th... thanks," he said, straining to try and be louder since she had walked back to the kitchen. Oof, probably wasn't the best idea. Fuck, he wished he could figure out how to fix his broken voice. It'd been a long time since he'd heard what it sounds like normally, but he knew it wasn't supposed to sound like this.

Mystic

Tikki glances back in his direction at the sound of the voice crack. Ouch. That sounded very unpleasant. Did speaking cause him pain? Maybe his throat was damaged from... whatever happened to him in the 'lab'.

She tried not to think about it. He wasn't there, now.

"It's no trouble," she says, offering another smile as she removes the pan to wash it. "Nobody should have to live on the street- especially not kids."

In the background, Tikki quietly goes about making some hot apple cider. It was just a cheap packet mix, but it was easy, and fast. The water boils gently on the stove while she cleans up the containers of omelet fillings, and puts away all the washed dishes once she'd dried them with a kitchen towel.

She is left to ponder in silence for a while. He'd never seen silverware, didn't know how to feed or take care of himself. Laboratories that tested on humans- at least, he might be human, she really wasn't sure- evidently still existed, and were doing shady shit like turning children into weapons. That was the most she could ascertain from his broken speech and limited information. Whoever was responsible, they were probably out looking for this kid. And if she was caught with him in custody, if she was lucky, she'd be left alone- but he would no doubt be taken back to whatever hell he endured.

She had seen the rocky injuries all over his back. She couldn't begin to comprehend what would cause that. It looked a little better after he was able to bathe, but there was still a substantial amount of rock crust covering his spine. She was hesitant to touch it, or ask about it in case it was sensitive.

Steam hisses from the kettle, and she turns off the stove burner. Water is poured into mugs, and Tikki shakes out the cider mix into the mugs, pouring honey into both. Stirring them with spoons, she walks back out into the living room to check on him.

"I've got hot cider, for your throat," she says, rounding the couch.

Spooky

He looked like he'd gone into almost a kind of sleepy trance, watching the flames dance on the logs...

But he perked back up a little when Tikki returned with- Oh! He'd seen these before, sometimes he would see people at the lab walking or standing around with these little handled cylinders in their hands, usually in the hallways when he was being transported to another area. He never knew what was in them, but they had a nice smell...

These smelled good too, but in a different way. When Tikki handed one over to him, he took it and held it in both hands, peering down at the unfamiliar drink. Unsure how to proceed, he dipped his tongue into it to give it a taste.

Mystic

The immediate taste was sweet, with a hint of spice that wasn't quite the same as the red thing he ate earlier. What did Tikki call it? 'Pepper'? This was different. It was hot, though, and the little bit he managed to swallow off his own tongue actually soothed his aching throat a little, more than water had up until this point.

Tikki, seeing this, chuckles into her own mug that she had just lifted to her face.

"Okay, that was pretty cute," she says, snickering. "And you have a lava tongue?? Weird, and cool. But yeah- you drink it like this."

Tikki demonstrates, holding the mug in her hands up to her chin and tipping it back a little, taking a gulp of the liquid inside before tipping it back down, swallowing with a satisfied exhale.

"It has honey in it, which is a natural remedy for throat problems," she explains, sipping more of her own drink before continuing. "I've had to use it before when shifting damaged my voice for a day or two. Should help, I think. And if it gets too cold, you can always reheat it."

Spooky

He flushed with a faint glow at her comments, but did his best to mimic the demonstration, slowly tipping and attempting a sip with a noisy slurp.

...Holy shit! A way to drink without getting it all over himself! He looked down at the mug with big eyes full of wonder. This was awesome!

He was quick to drink the rest of it down, steam spilling from his mouth when he lowered the mug and exhaled afterwards. The honey coated his throat, making it feel less sore after his attempts to talk. His glowing tongue poked out again, licking his lips.

Mystic

Another chuckle from Tikki.

"I mean this in the best way- you're like a big puppy," she jokes, watching the steam puff up towards her ceiling. "A lanky, fire-breathing puppy."

Sipping her cider, she sighs, getting up from the carpet one last time.

"You look ready to pass out, so I'm going to let you rest. You can use the couch, or stay on the carpet, whatever you feel like- sleep well, Sticks."

And with that, she walks off to the rest of her house, presumably to wind down for the rest of her afternoon. It wasn't far past midday, but she'd had an exhausting morning, and she figured he did as well.

Spooky

His expression briefly turned to confusion as he tried to figure out what a puppy was, but he shrugged it off, setting down the now empty mug. He was very sleepy, and probably would've been content to just sleep next to the fireplace, though without anything to prop him up he kept slowly listing to the side until he'd jerk back upright with a start.

He let out a tired grumble and crawled like a blankety slug across the floor until he was at the couch, where he leaned back against the side of it. It was definitely softer than the dirt had been, and the blankets added extra cushioning. Hugging the pillow close, he curled up and rested his head on it, so cozy that he drifted off in no time.

...

"You really thought you could just leave... Didn't you?"

His eyes shot open at the familiar cold voice of the ponytailed man, Dr. Rainer... but he didn't see him anywhere when he looked around the living room. It was nighttime now and the fireplace had gone out, bathing the room in darkness, and any warmth seemed to have been sucked out of the house along with it.

Then, a red dot appeared in the window. Followed by another, then another, and they continued to multiply until they were peering in through every window, swarming, a buzzing sound reverberating off the walls and leaving him rattled. Drones.

With a smash of glass they set upon him, giving him barely even any time to stand before they were already on him, a writhing mass of buzzing motors and claw arms, reaching and scratching and grabbing. He managed to fight back, blasting them with fire and setting his fists crunching into metal when they got too close, but there were always more to take their place.

"No matter where you scurry off to, you can never truly abandon your purpose. You know that, don't you?"

Metal parts crunched underfoot as he continued to doggedly fight against a neverending onslaught, pouring in through the windows like wasps from a nest.

Suddenly, another piercing pain lanced through the back of his neck, near the base of his skull, his vision blurring and going white for a few moments as he was brought to his hands and knees.

When he opened his eyes again, the drones were gone, and the room was quiet... But as he remained there, trying to catch his breath, he realized something very quickly. He couldn't move.

"Stand."

To his dawning horror, he stood up. Without trying to. His body was moving without his input. His eyes wouldn't even budge when he tried to look around.

"You... are one of OUR products, Matchstick. Don't forget that. Now... Destroy."

NO!

It was too late. Fire sparked and climbed up his limbs, engulfing his body in flames that started to catch on the floor around him. He raised his arms and sent blasts of fireballs careening around him, smashing walls and furniture, anything not annihilated on impact would perish in the blaze... The walls buckled in the inferno. Chunks of ceiling fell. This house was done for, and everyone in it, including Tikki.

And as he distantly heard her screams, he felt...

nothing.

-!!!

Heart hammering in his chest, his eyes opened for real this time and he sat bolt upright with a gasp, prompting a coughing fit. Smoke spiraling out of his mouth, he tried to catch his breath and regain his bearings.

Mystic

The house is quiet. Besides his panting breaths and his heart trying to decide if it wanted to break his ribcage and escape, there was no sound beyond the distant hum of the heater in the walls. The fire- which appeared to have had an extra log placed on it at some point- had burned low until all that was left were charred husks, and a pile of glowing embers. It produced only a faint pop and hiss, along with the lightest aura of remaining warmth.

The house is dark. Just like in his nightmare- but there's no voice to taunt him in the shadows. The windows, which had been an open view out into the world, were covered by thick drawn curtains. Nothing could see inside, not even the searching cameras of the drones he knew were looking for him out in the city. No light is leaking past the borders of those curtains, either. He'd passed out somewhere around noon. Had he slept so long that it was nighttime?

The house is empty. Tikki is nowhere to be seen. A door at the far end of the corridor across the living room is shut. Perhaps she was there, or perhaps she left.

A hand flies quickly to the back of his neck-

-and he feels nothing. No robotic devices, no grasping claw-like limbs, no collar, and no needle stabbing into his skin. All that he finds is... the pre-existing injection site, that had long since healed over.

He was alone with his blankets and his pillow, a dying fire in the fireplace, and the lingering terror of the nightmare.

Spooky

Despite the realization that it had been a bad dream, and that there were no threats in sight, he still felt almost afraid to move for a while. He pulled the blankets up around him like it was a barrier, camouflage to hide him from whatever lurked through his imagination.

Still, he couldn't go back to sleep. Not without making sure everything was okay... So holding the pillow and clutching one of the blankets around him, he got up and checked the perimeter, wandering through the living room and down the hall, peeking in through the doors just to be safe.

Mystic

…So far, everything seemed to be clear.

The kitchen still smelled like the food Tikki made earlier - ‘om-lets’, or something. The burners in the stove were off, and all the dishes had been cleaned and returned to their rightful places.

The living room was the same. The book he picked up still sat haphazardly on the stack when he set it aside. The fire was still dying, the firewood stack neatly piled.

The windows were unshattered; no glass or broken drones littered the floor from his imagined combat. Peeking beyond the curtains showed a gentle fall of snow from the sky, and a dark, starless night filled with clouds.

…

Paying close attention to the house let him notice a few things. The scratches from the driveway were present here, too- they had been spackled and repaired wherever possible, but the signs of wear persisted. Wooden furniture was bent or scored in places, as if something big had clumsily scraped by it. These must be the signs of whenever Tikki transforms against her will, identical to what he found outside. This was a small abode to contain the oversized- whatever it is she turns into.

The door at the end of the hall has the most prominent damage, where the frame is buckled up and outward in a couple places, and the hinges had been repaired multiple times.

What did she say again? ’Shifting outside sucks because she can’t fit through the door,’ or something.

…There’s a faint buzzing sound coming from the door. She was probably asleep, oblivious to his nighttime panic.

Spooky

The sound was sort of like the breathing noises she made while asleep as the silver beast, but smaller... It wasn't like the buzz of drones, this was far less harsh and only happened at intervals instead of continuously. Still, just in case, he listened for a bit, before gathering up the nerve to open the door just a crack and peek inside.

Mystic

The inside of Tikki’s room was also dark, all lights in the room turned off save for a single lamp in the shape of a spiny fish plugged into a wall socket. There were more plants in hanging pots, some with flowers that wafted a sweet scent. A fan overhead spun in a slow circle. Against one wall was a tank full of water, plants, pebbles, and several small fish that flitted about once the light from his eyes was upon them. A filter hummed quietly on the tank, the only other notable sound in the room.

On the bed was Tikki, fast asleep. She was haphazardly wrapped in a thick blanket of her own, and what was visible of her arms and legs was covered in some sort of cloth outfit with more fish stitched onto it. She had a book open next to her on the bed. Thin red lines on the sides of her neck produced the buzzing sound he’d been hearing, every time she breathes. Was that how she snores?

The fish in the tank all swim at once towards the corner nearest the bed, swimming frantically at the tank glass.

Tikki grunts, her snore sputtering as she reaches up and rubs at her face with one hand. Moving to sit up, she looks first towards the tank. A pause, ear fins twitching, before she looks towards the door. The mermaid squints, her eyes reflecting the light from the doorway as she sleepily processes.

”Nghf- Sticks…? I see… your eyes glowing.”

Spooky

The glowing eyes peering from the doorway glance to the side self-consciously and duck behind the door, though after a few moments, one came peeking back into view.

Yeah, she'd seen him, there was no point hiding. The door opened more and he stood in the threshold, huddled in his blanket, his tallness diminished in appearance somewhat by his nervous, slumped posture. He squeezed his pillow underneath his arm.

"S... sorry," he whispered, barely loud enough to be heard over the fish tank filter. "Checking... if safe." The honey must have helped somewhat, that was the most talking he'd managed in one go since they'd met!

Mystic

There's a pause as Tikki's sleepy brain works its way through what he just said.

"Oh..." she mumbles, yawning- and revealing a mouth absolutely full of sharp teeth. "It's... ok, Sticks. It's just you, me, and the guppies... they started yellin' the moment you-" another yawn "-opened the door."

She rubs at her face again, this time with both hands.

"You gonna- be ok...? Can you go back- to sleep...?"

Spooky

Guppies? He looked at the fish in the tank, though he hadn't heard them make any noise, let alone yell. He blinked, but turned his attention back to Tikki.

He nodded, but it was clear by how he was carrying himself that he was hesitant to go back to sleep. He was still tired, but fear had put him in a state of alertness despite that. Backing up from the door, he turned to go back down the hall. Maybe if he couldn't sleep, he could at least keep watch...

Mystic

"Wait."

Tikki grunts, scooting to the edge of her bed and rolling her legs over the side. She adjusts the sleeves of her colorful cloth attire, and digs around in her blankets. She removes something lumpy and plush from the bundle of blankets, standing up to approach the door.

"Here," Tikki says, holding out the object to him. "Holding this helped me relax when I first started living on land instead of the sea."

It was a stuffed lizard of some sort, but it had tiny plush spines on its back and a little pair of plush wings. Fabric fangs poked out of a sewn mouth underneath tiny black bead eyes.

"His name is Slithers. Maybe he'll help you feel safe, too."

Spooky

His glowing eyes blinked in the dark like two half-covered spotlights as he picked up the little soft... creature? He didn't know what it was, but it didn't seem to be alive. It appeared to be made out of the same kind of soft stuff the pillow was. The fabric that made up its plush hide had some kind of a spotted pattern that glimmered in the light of his eyes, like scales. Whatever this fake creature was, its appearance was endearing, and he smiled a little despite his anxiety.

He nestled it between the pillow and his body and gave a little nod to Tikki in thanks.

As he made his way back to the couch, he thought about what Tikki had said. She used to live in the sea... But what was that, exactly? A different town? He wondered how often she had to move. She had to hide too, right? If people found him scary to look at, they would absolutely find the silver beast to be scarier...

Getting to the couch, he took another look around the room. Still all clear. He was about to settle back down where he'd been before, when he stopped, noticing how his hand sunk down on the cushion of the couch when he started to kneel down on the rug. His eyes widened, and he squished the cushion with his hand.

This thing had pillows on it!

He got back up, and almost as if he wasn't sure if he was allowed to do this or not, he cautiously sat on the couch instead, curling up in the crook of the couch's arm. It felt like he had more defenses this way, being in a corner- and it was a very soft and squishy corner. It was like he was gonna sink into it, but he didn't- not enough to be alarming, anyway. This was a good spot...

Snuggling down in the blankets all curled up and hugging his legs, with the pillow and plush sandwiched between the front of his torso and the back of his thighs, he sat there in quiet comfort until he finally began to doze off again...

Mystic

...This time, he's unbothered by nightmares, or even dreams. The comforting blackness of exhaustion envelops him, and for now, he's allowed to sleep in the peaceful silence of nothingness.

~*~

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cryptidsofwakemoor · 4 months

Text

Chapter 9 - Matchsticks

Tikki has a strange new guest in her house. He acts like he's never been in a house before, doesn't know what baths are, and isn't much for conversation, but... He seems polite at least?

(content warnings: old wound description, inhuman scabs (made of rock))

~*~

Mystic

The interior of the home was dark the moment Matchstick walked in, but when the fish person reached over to flick a switch on the wall, warm golden light bloomed from several glass bulbs in fixtures about the space.

It was a cozy room, with a brown leather couch across from some kind of hollow made of brick. The bottom of the hollow had a small metal rack with a few wooden logs, chopped and sitting inert. A larger pile of neatly stacked logs sat next to the hollow. A few photographs in frames lined a small cabinet under a large boxy screen that was currently black. The shelf above the brick had small knickknacks made of glass, plastic, and other things he couldn’t possibly identify.

The rest of the room was no exception- strange objects he didn’t recognize sat on tables and shelves throughout the area. A couple plants sat in pots indoors, as well. They didn’t appear to serve any purpose besides decoration. Even though it was the middle of winter, the inside of this house had an overall beach vibe- not that he understood entirely what that felt like.

The fish person sheds the blanket once the door is shut behind them, sighing in relief to be indoors. Bundling the blanket up in her arms, she drops the torn remains of her clothes in a trash bin by the door- atop many fragments like it of various colors, and goes to grab a not-so-destroyed change of clothes to put on in their stead.

“Feel free to sit on the couch- I’ll light the fireplace so you won’t freeze while the heater warms up.” She gestures towards the brown cushy furniture, eyeing his… magma crusted back. “…do you want to go wash up, while I clean the blanket and start making food? You look like you could use a hot bath.”

Spooky

Feeling a bit lost and out of place, he'd started moving towards the couch as directed, but stopped when she spoke, looking back at her like she had suddenly switched to a different language. "Bath...?" He rasped.

Suddenly it made sense why he only ever really seemed remotely cleaner when it rained. Or why his back was still... Like that. At first glance it probably appeared like it was part of him, like some kind of shell or something, but on closer inspection, in better lighting, it was far too uneven and scab-like, having cracked in places and re-scabbed, and other parts looking like the rock had chipped and broken off, revealing skin underneath... and what was even more telling that it shouldn't have been there were the appearance that some kind of other more artificial, plastic-y material had melted and mixed into the rock in places, as well as the glint of a few... metal pieces? Trapped in the rock on his upper back, like the magma had oozed over them and hardened. There were a few other, much smaller instances of the rocky scabs on his body, but his back was absolutely the worst of them all.

And yet, he seemed unbothered by it. Probably because, worryingly, it had been stuck to him for months now.

Mystic

…She bit her lip, seeing the visible confusion on his face.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to offend,” she says. “I know you probably didn’t have much choice out in the street. I don’t know your story- maybe you have a severe phobia of water. But if you’re going to be in my house, you’re going to have to clean up. Plus, you’ll feel a lot better afterwards, I guarantee it! If you don’t want a bath, we can use wet towels, it really doesn’t matter to me as long as you’re comfortable with your choice.”

She turns again, and starts walking down a hallway to another part of the townhouse, with a quick pause at the corridor. She peeks back to make sure he’s following.

“My name is Tikki, by the way- welcome to my house.”

Spooky

He looked from the couch to her, not realizing he should follow until she looked back at him, and he hurried to catch up. He was still holding the pillow close like it was a security blanket, feeling awkward and like he wasn't sure what he was supposed to be doing.

Didn't help his nerves at all to try and piece together what a bath was, from her words. Had something to do with water, and getting clean...

He tilts his head though, when she tells him her name. Tikki... Never heard a name like that before, but from what he could tell, there were a lot of names. All the scientists in the lab, at least the ones he heard about, all had different ones. He remembered having one too, though they gave him a new one to replace it. And if he kept trying to use the old one, then... then he would have to go back to the room w-where...

...It was just better to act like he forgot it.

He nodded to her, but didn't say anything else.

Mystic

…

“You don’t talk much, do you?” Tikki asks, frowning a little as she walks beside him in the hallway. She flicks another switch to turn on more lights in the building. “You don’t have to- sounds like you tried to eat a packet of charcoal sticks at some point. It would be nice to have a name to call you by- I’d rather not call you ‘kid’ forever. But you don’t have to give me one on my account if you’re not fond of it. Hell, you can make one up if you felt like it. I’ve known a few people who tossed their deadnames and didn’t look back.”

They reach a small door in the hall, and she pushes it open to reveal a small bathroom with a bathtub, shower head, sink, and a toilet. It’s very clean, like some of the rooms in the facility, but warmer and more welcoming than those sterilized white tiled chambers with chemical hoses. There’s even another plant on the counter.

“Here’s the bathroom,” Tikki gestures with one hand, standing aside. “It has a shower and bath, and hot and cold water- red for hot, blue for cold. If you don’t want to soak, there’s towels in that wicker cabinet you can dip in the water instead. And because it’s occurring to me just now- nothing in here is edible, it’s all soaps. They’re for cleaning, not eating.”

Tikki holds out her hands.

“I can clean the pillow while you’re in there, ok?”

Spooky

Dead name? They could die?

Guess that made sense, with those white coated assholes trying so hard to kill it...

His eyes followed wherever she pointed and he tried to mentally note down the instructions as best he could. Easier said than done, there was so much new stuff in this place to take in at once that it felt like his brain was working in slow motion. He almost jumped when she held out her hands, before realizing what she was asking.

Hesitantly, he relinquished the pillow. Like a well-loved plush animal, it looked like it had been trampled by a stampede and had lost a lot of its initial fluffiness.

He then went over to the cabinet she'd pointed out and got a towel. Immediately he was engrossed in feeling how soft it was, petting it curiously with his hand, before wrapping it around himself like he did with the blanket. It didn't cover nearly as much of him, though... It seemed like he kind of lost the plot of what he was supposed to be doing in here, at least until he went over to the tub and, looking between the two taps, tried the red one. It took a few tries to figure out he was supposed to twist it, but when he did and water suddenly rushed out of the faucet, he startled away from it like a snake had tried to strike him.

Mystic

When he jumped back like a spooked gazelle, Tikki raises an eyebrow. Was water actually scary to him? She’d been poking at the possibility, before, but…

Setting the pillow aside, she ducks into the bathroom next to the startled teenager.

“It’s ok,” Tikki says, keeping her tone gentle. “It’s just bath water. See?”

She places her hand under the stream, letting him see the water pour over her arm and into the tub. Any residual dirt on her from laying in the den washed away, spiraling down the drain. Steam began to rise from her scales as the temperature of the water started to climb, so she retracted her arm before it could burn her. One webbed hand adjusted the knobs so it wasn’t scalding, but nice and hot.

“And you can pull this to make it fill the tub, or start the shower.”

Pulling a small metal tab on top of the faucet, there’s a brief halt in the water, before it starts pouring out in heavy sprinkles from the taller faucet. Pushing the tab back down makes it stop, and start gushing from the lower again.

Spooky

He watched the dirt spiral down the drain along with the water, and it didn't seem to be accumulating much. His tension slowly eased, though the sudden hiss of the shower brought it right back up again, making him duck his head and wince even though he wasn't underneath it. In comparison, the water going back to gushing from the faucet seemed less frightening.

Taking a moment to calm his breathing, he looked at Tikki with uncertainty before sticking his arm in like she had. The water splashed over his hand, and while it didn't hurt, his fingers still curled a little in anticipation of discomfort. It... wasn't as bad as it usually was, though, he had to admit. It wasn't uncomfortably cold like the rain or the pond, nor was it painfully cold like the lab's. After realizing this, he relaxed a little bit and watched the dirt wash off of his hand and wrist, down the drain.

Mystic

Tikki smiles.

"Just like that," she says in encouragement. "Here."

She pulls a different tab, which causes a metal cylinder in the drain to compress. The water, no longer able to drain out, starts to fill up the tub.

"It'll take a while for this to fill- turn it off when it gets about here, okay?" Tikki gestures with her hand to about a third below the rim of the bathtub. "Otherwise it'll flood the bathroom. You can use the soap on the shelf over here to get rid of any tough dirt."

Tikki picks up the pillow she'd momentarily placed to the floor, and stands up. She turns to leave, hesitating at the door again.

"You going to be ok? If you slip and can't get up, uh- throw something against the wall. I'll hear it."

Spooky

He looked at her and nodded to show he understood.

While he felt a small sense of unease form in the pit of his stomach watching the water slowly inch its way up in the tub, it did help a little knowing that he wasn't trapped in there, and he had control over when the water stopped. He didn't have to worry about it filling up the whole room, and... blocking out all the air...

He felt a cold shiver go through him, and turned off the faucet probably a little earlier than needed.

...What now? He had the water. Was he... supposed to go into it? Hmm... He wasn't sure he wanted to do that. Instead, he remembered what Tikki had said about the towel, so he unwrapped it from himself and dipped it into the water. Leaning a bit over the side, he started wiping down his other arm with it. While water often felt weird on his skin, the towel did kind of help to mitigate that, and the warm temperature took away the other uncomfortable part.

After scrubbing at his arms for a little bit, he finally gathered up some courage to climb in, since it seemed like it'd be faster and it was warmer than sitting outside of the thing. The water quickly turned dark from months worth of accumulated grime washing off. Soon enough he had managed to clean up pretty well, although he left his upper back for the most part untouched.

Mystic

In the other half of the house, Tikki had started going about what she promised- washing the blanket and pillow. The fabric had to be taken outside and shaken thoroughly to remove all the dirt crumbs and bits of rock. No way was she going to ruin her washer and dryer by turning it into a tumbler. She tossed the now slightly less filthy cloth into the washer, pouring some soap and a bit of diluted vinegar into the vats for detergent and softener. With a soft beep, she shut the door and set it to a heavy cycle. Wonderful! Now the two articles should be nice and clean within the half hour, then dried by the time an hour had passed. Plenty of time for her unexpected guest to wash up.

The heater had kicked in, so now warm air was beginning to waft through the house from the vents in the floor and ceiling. Good. It would take some time to warm the building, but it was something. If she could just get the fireplace going, then they’d have a dedicated warm spot right then and there.

She struggles with the matchsticks as she crouched by the fireplace, frowning. Dammit, these things were such a pain.

Spooky

The water was starting to cool down, making the bath feel a little less hospitable... but he figured he was clean enough now. He climbed out, dripping wet, and proceeded to shake himself off. Some of the rock on his back had loosened and crumbled off of its own accord, which was an improvement, but the worst of it on his upper back remained stubbornly in place. It was kind of nice to have less of it pulling on his skin when he moved, but the rest of it itched a little. He started to reach back, but touching it stung pretty bad, so he stopped.

Instead, he looked back at the towel he'd brought into the bath with him floating in the muck-filled water, and he made a face. There was a way to drain it- how did she say to do it again? It was this little thing here, right...? He tried pulling it up further, but it wouldn't budge, so maybe... he pressed it down instead, and the drain gurgled as the water started to go down. He smiled a little to himself, feeling kinda good about figuring it out!

And then, neglecting to grab another towel to dry off, he left the bathroom, trailing water down the hall.

Mystic

Exiting the bathroom, he's greeted by a slightly warmer atmosphere than when he first walked inside the townhouse. It wasn't quite cold anymore, though a bit less cozy than the steamed-up bathroom. Still, a marked improvement. He could feel the warm air blowing into the space from a vent in the floor, which he walked over on the way back to the living room at the front. A rumbling sound of some kind of machine could be heard thrumming dully through the floor from some closet in the hall.

Tikki was on the floor by the brick hollow, trying to run some sort of stick across the side of a box. She clicked her tongue every time it didn't do whatever she was trying to get it to do. She was clicking her tongue a lot.

Finally, there's a snap of some sort of friction, and he can see she holds up a very tiny flame on the end of the stick. She leans forward, trying to press it to the side of the logs held in the hollow, and-

-it goes out.

"God dammit," she curses under her breath, sighing.

Wet footsteps cause her ear-fin things to perk up, drawing her attention in his direction. She stares at him for a second.

"...right. I didn't tell you how to dry off," she mumbles, sighing once. "You're lucky I'm a mermaid, otherwise I'd probably take a lot more issue with you dragging water throughout my house."

Tikki lifts a hand and flicks it.

In time with the motion, all the water he had trailed lifted off the ground in series of floating bubbles. They follow her hand motion towards various potted plants, where the water is dropped over the contained soil.

"Sorry, fireplace isn't ready yet. You're still welcome to sit, though. Here, dry off first-"

She grabs another blanket from inside a cabinet, resolving to washing that later, too, and chucks it at him.

Spooky

With wide eyes, he watched the water lift up from the floor, moving as if it were alive, only to drop itself into the plants. Whoa!

Distracted as he was, he almost didn't notice the blanket being tossed his way. He fumbled a little, but caught the heavy cloth, ruffling his face and head dry with it before wrapping it around his body for warmth. Moving over to where she was, he plunked down on the rug and snuggled into the blanket, breathing out a contented sigh.

Watching what she was trying to do once more, he saw her swiping a stick against a box again until she managed another small flame, but it failed to catch on the pieces of wood. Realizing what she was trying to do, he dried off his hands really good and, with a snap, created a small flame at the tip of his pointer finger and stuck it into the fireplace, holding it there until the logs finally caught.

Mystic

Tikki stops short as he- quite easily- produces a fire with nothing more than his fingertips. She watches in quiet awe as the fireplace is lit, and quickly, too. Within moments, the first log is throwing gentle pops and sparks as the bark begins crackling with heat and light.

"Ok, I've decided," Tikki says. She chucks the box of matches over her shoulder. "Until further notice, your new nickname is Matchstick. We can retire it if you're ever in the mood to share your real name, or make one up yourself."

Dusting her hands, she gets up from the floor, and plaps her way into the other half of the space, which is separated off by a counter and several appliances.

"I'm going to start cooking- something. I don't know what yet. I'll figure it out. You get comfortable, look around at stuff, read a book if you like. I can even turn on the TV for you, though it's mostly going to be Christmas specials this time of year."

Spooky

He tensed a little as paranoia crept around the edges of his mind, wondering how she knew the name the scientists had given him. Although, it didn't... seem like she knew about any of that, especially if she was surprised to see him light something... Maybe it was just a guess…?

She got up, and his eyes caught the label on the box she had. M... a...

...'Matchsticks'. Huh...

...Wait- Had he seriously been named after these things??

Man, now he didn't know what to think... At least the 'new' nickname appeared to be a coincidence after all.

He huffed out a breath and settled down near the fireplace, content to watch the wood burn for now. He didn't really know what TV was, or... Christmas? Or what was so special. Looking around the room, he could see what he recognized as a monitor, but it was off. Guess it wasn't hooked up to any vitals... He could see books on a shelf. He knew what those were, he vaguely remembered... He was pretty sure he'd read at least one, once, though he couldn't for the life of him remember what it was about. It might've had pictures in it...

He went over to investigate, picking one up at random and turning it over in his hands, looking at the cover on it.

Mystic

The cover on this one was kinda hard to understand. ‘The Great Gatsby’. What was a ‘gatsby’, and why was this one so great? He could read- the lab scientists had insisted he learned some basic English. He wouldn’t be able to follow complex instructions otherwise.

…

Wow, this book was hard to understand, though. Not only did he have to read slowly in order to piece together the sentences, but he just straight up didn’t know some words, so the meaning was lost on him. On top of that, a lot of what he was able to understand sounded just- stupid. People were throwing giant parties, being obscenely rich, and apparently the ‘gatsby’ was a dude they just arbitrarily decided was great because he threw massive rich people parties. And everyone in attendance was rude.

The logs in the fireplace settled with a puff of embers up the chimney, and warmth billowed out from the fireplace now that the fire was large and sustained.

A faint beep is heard in the distance, followed by the telltale plap plap of Tikki’s fish feet walking over the wooden floors towards it. There’s a kachunk noise of a door being opened, and the steady approach of more plap plaps.

A hot, soft cloth is placed over his head. Oh shit it’s the blanket she gave him!

“Fresh out the dryer,” she announces, holding the pillow- freshly cleaned and fluffed- at the edge of his vision past the blanket.

Spooky

He put the book back on top of the other books, not really caring where it went because his blanket and pillow were back! Not only that, they were warm and smelled nice!

He grabbed the pillow and hugged it excitedly, feeling immediate comfort from having it back and fluffier than ever! He didn't know what the dryer was, but he didn't care- whatever it was, it did miracles.

Mystic

“So, Sticks,” Tikki says as she walks back to the kitchen, a pleasant smile on her face. “You’re some kind of pyromancer, looks like. I don’t know how old you are, but you look pretty young to be running around by yourself, eating peanuts out of bird feeders. Why are you on the run? Did you steal food and piss off the authorities?”

Tikki pulls down some kind of flat black metal sheet with a handle, and placed it on the appliance with plastic and metal discs on top. She turns a dial, and there’s a quiet popping before small flames catch around the disc. The metal pan goes on top, and she opens a big white box behind her to pull out some cardboard container with a strange lumpy shape. The lid is popped open to reveal many white, ovoid objects.

“Ah shit- are you allergic to anything, actually? Anything you ever ate that made you feel sick, like really sick?”

Spooky

He had a somewhat guilty expression when asked if he stole food... That was part of it, but not the main reason. He wasn't sure what to say though, or how to even start. Or if he could use his voice enough at all to even try... He opened his mouth- "Aa..." -and closed it, looking frustrated.

Well that was a no-go. Instead he moved a little closer, curious to see what she was doing. When asked if anything he ate made him really sick, he thought about it, but shook his head no. He'd eaten a lot of things, even literal garbage, but the only time he felt sick was when he hadn't eaten enough.

Mystic

“Okay that’s good.” Tikki accepts that response, deciding not to pry on the first topic. “Because you’re getting an omelet.”

Scooping a bowl from another cabinet, and removing a plastic carton of some white liquid, she pours a little into the bowl before grabbing one of the white oval things. A quick smack on the side of the bowl, and the oval cracks open, dropping a clear goop with a golden center into the liquid. Repeating the process twice more, she grabs a whisk and mixes the two ingredients together with ferocity, until it forms a light yellow liquid somewhere in the middle of the two consistencies. The solution gets poured into the pan, producing a loud sizzling pop as it starts to bubble.

In the meantime, she turns to the white box again, and starts pulling out little plastic containers.

“Fillings, fillings,” she mumbles to herself. “I’ve got- bacon, mushrooms, cheese… hm.”

Tikki chews her lip as she ponders another container.

“I’ve got peppers too, but I don’t know if you’ll like hot stuff. I’ll put it out anyway.”

Arranging the fillings on the counter, she grabs a spatula and flips the mixture in the pan. It’s a floppy golden disc now, and the popping sound starts anew.

“What do you want as filling?” She asks, gesturing to the opened containers.

Spooky

He inspected each thing he was presented with curiously, and he seemed to like all of them as he tried a little bit of each one. The bacon seemed to be his favorite, due to how enthusiastically he pointed at it, until he got to the peppers.

Before he could be stopped he stuck a whole chili pepper in his mouth, his eyes going wide as he bit into it and a more intense flavor than he'd ever experienced before bloomed across his tongue. There was a moment where it seemed like maybe it might've been too much for him, but he quickly turned to Tikki, practically with stars in his eyes, and pointed excitedly at them.

"Mm!"

Mystic

Tikki raised both eyebrows, not having enough time to react between him grabbing the pepper and pointing excitedly to do anything about it.

“Ok, I was wrong- you have tastebuds of titanium I guess. Shoulda seen that coming, you’re a teenager,” she says with a smirk, taking a handful of the peppers and placing them on a rubber mat. She reaches behind her to a wooden block, and unsheathes a knife. Rather than pointing it at him, though, like the instant of fear spiked into him, she took it to the peppers, and deftly diced them into slices. Using the flat side of the knife as a scraper, she picks up the peppers and wipes them off onto the half-cooked omelet. Then she sets the knife down on the mat, and grabs handfuls of cheese and the bacon, filling in the rest of the space on the omelet patty. The spatula comes out again, and she picks up one end of the omelet to fold it over like a taco, before removing it from the pan entirely onto a plate.

Tikki holds out the plate to him.

“Here you go, Sticks- one hot pepper omelet! I gotta make mine now, so you can go ahead and sit to eat already. Mine will take a minute.”

Spooky

Grinning from- well, what would have been ear to ear if he had any, he took the disc with the food on it and brought it back over to the fireplace instead of the table. It didn't really occur to him to sit there, and he was perfectly content near the heat of the crackling logs instead.

It took a physical effort to NOT just toss his head back and gulp the whole thing down like a seagull. Human food was a treat, and he wanted to make sure he tasted it! He ate it in bites, however given the size of his mouth... it was only about three bites before the whole omelet was gone.

Mystic

“Damn,” Tikki comments, impressed. “Should have made you two omelets.”

~*~

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