#and like i remember when i met david it was just like juno used he/him for me at lunch once when david first started sitting with us and he

[dreamertrilogys]

so i haven’t personally come out to anyone recently bc i’ve been outsourcing it (getting my girlfriend to do it) & one thing i’ve noticed is that ppl will say a lot more than they would if you were there. for example fran from english class apparently said something along the lines of “yeah i figured. i mean they look like a man anyway” & my girlfriend’s sister just straight up guessed it before my gf even told her (“do they use they/them pronouns” literally a couple hours after meeting me for the first time (in a setting where i was introduced as a cis woman). glad i give off the impression of someone who uses pronouns. thank you)

[foxy--stoat]

music

for the last few days I’ve been listening to a lot of music while I write, and I came across some songs I think describe some Penumbra characters pretty well, or at least some situations they’re in or would be in at some point. also some of them are going to be super obvious but I’m going to write them anyway. here they are:

Moonage Daydream, by David Bowie (Peter Nureyev) 

I'm an alligator I'm a mama-papa comin' for you I'm the space invader I'll be a rock 'n' rollin' bitch for you

(Nureyev is good at using different disguises and he’s a different person before and after and before and with Juno)

Keep your mouth shut You're squawking like a pink monkey bird And I'm bustin' up my brains for the words

(In his episodes of season 3, he gets annoyed with Juno not being discreet, flirting, making a show of himself, and saying anything at all to Nova Zolatovna (apologies for any misspellings))

Keep your 'lectric eye on me, babe Put your ray gun to my head Press your space face close to mine, love Freak out in a moonage daydream, oh yeah!

(well Juno literally has an electric eye, always carries a ray gun, and I imagine they ‘put their faces close together’ quite often.)

and the whole song also has kind of a Peter Nureyev vibe. I imagine he would listen to a lot of David Bowie/stuff like that but be embarrassed to tell anyone that he even listens to music at all

Be Calm, by Fun. (Vespa Ilkay)

But I always knew you'd be the one to understand me I guess that's why it took so long To get things right

(they obviously understand each other to an extent, and also they didn’t see each other for years and years, and the first time they actually met Buddy stole from Vespa and they fought)

Oh, why haven't you been there for me? Can't you see? I'm losing my mind this time This time, I think it's for real, I can see

(she is literally losing her mind, and in her episodes of season 3, Buddy is gone)

I'm scared that everyone is out to get me.

(exactly what it sounds like. especially Juno)

But with every single buck I've made I'm saddled with bad luck that came

(also exactly what it sounds like)

Or when I found out one day I'm gonna die If only I could find my people or my place in life

(idk, it just sounds like something Vespa would think)

Oh be calm. Be calm. I know you feel like you are breaking down. I know that it gets so hard sometimes, Be calm. Take it from me, I've been there a thousand times. You hate your pulse because it thinks you're still alive And everything's wrong It just gets so hard sometimes Be calm.

(I just imagine she would feel this way sometimes)

I don't remember much that night, Just walking, thinking fondly of you Thinking how the worst is yet to come From that street corner came a song And I can't remember the man, The panhandler or his melody. The words exchanged had far exceeded any change I'd given thee.

(this reminds me of her first interaction with Buddy)

Don’t Ask Me, by Ok Go (First half Peter Nureyev to Juno, second half Juno Steel to Nureyev)

Peter Nureyev:

Quit acting so friendly. Don't nod don't laugh all nicely.

(when Juno flirts with Nova at the heist where they steal the map)

And don't flash that stupid smile.

(he stares at Juno’s smile for like 2 minutes and describes it for what seems like longer)

Don't show up so on-time And don't act like you're so kind Don't ask me how I've been.

(Juno changed a lot since the 1st and 3rd seasons, and he’s been I think more polite to Nureyev, and I think no matter what he does Nureyev will be annoyed, but this annoys him especially for some reason)

Juno Steel: 

Don't sit there and play just So frank, so straight, so candid, So thoughtful, so gracious, So sound, so even-handed.

(all of these words could describe Nureyev, cold and pretending to be an ideal thief, an ideal family member, always listening, but really just tucking things in his “save for later” file)

Don't be so damn benign And don't waste my fucking time.

(he’s also benign)

Also I have a couple of BTVS inspired songs bc why not? one isn’t really a song, just a singer who the voice sounds like someone else, but whatever.

Heavy Cross, by Gossip (Buffy Summers)

It's a cruel, cruel world to face on your own A heavy cross to carry along The lights are on but everyone's gone And it's cruel

(the slayer is a very isolating job. It’s a burden, and she literally has to carry a cross with her. Also vampires don’t come out when the ‘lights are on’, and of course it’s cruel. her job is fighting demons.)

It's a funny way to make ends meet When the lights are out on every street It feels alright but never complete Without joy

(it is a very unique way to ‘make ends meet’, or at least a weird job to have. the vampires come out when ‘the lights are out on every street’ and it feels alright but she can’t be fully happy knowing that she’ll probably die young and will never have the ability to choose her future)

I checked you, if it's already been done Undo it It takes two, it's up to me and you To prove it

(this makes me think of her and angel, of her checking that he’s good, then undoing his spell, and it took two people to do it, if you know what I mean.)

On the rainy nights even the coldest days You're moments ago but seconds away The principle of nature, it's true but It's a cruel world

(demons don’t stop being evil when it’s rainy and cold! Sometimes when she’s fighting she punches/kicks where they were moments ago, but she punches too early and they are just seconds away. the principle of nature is that the slayer kills demons)

We can play it safe or play it cool Follow the leader or make up all the rules Whatever you want, the choice is yours So choose (this is her deciding to go on her own, no council, no official watcher, just her and Giles and the “scooby gang”)

I checked you if it's already been done Undo it It takes two and it's up to me and you To prove it

(I’m repeating this line because Spike also got himself a soul. They thought that Angel was the only one, but Spike always had to do everything angel did (even if it wasn’t for that reason)

so that’s it! whoo, that was a lot. 

[aleesblog]

Finding the Right Consultant   Gerald Stern Practical Neurology.

Many years ago, I recall listening to a brilliant lecture given before a venerable medical society, delivered by a surgeon renowned for his wit. His address was acknowledged with the presentation of an elegant silver Elizabethan meat skewer. After a gracious response, he added that he would reserve its use exclusively for importuning demanding relatives who insisted on a second opinion. Nowadays, a remark of this kind would demand an abject apology dictated by a junior hospital executive, or a General Medical Council directive to be placed in the stocks.

With laudable, ever increasingly well informed patients and relatives and proba- ble internet availability of a doctor’s batting averages, there may well be more demands for second opinions. In addition, neurologists faced with complex clinical problems of diagnosis or management that cannot be resolved by Wikipedia may also wish for further advice. Who to approach may not be easy. For example, it can be frustrating to discover that an illustrious expert with great experience and many publications about a rare group of disorders may turn out to lack commensurate common sense, or worse, demonstrate embarrassing insensitivity by ignoring the patient.

This dilemma was memorably illustrated to me in 1994 in the early hours of the morn- ing after a tiring day at a World Congress of Neurology. I was in the company of two famous neurologists, the late David Marsden and the very much alive Eldad Melamed (who has kindly permitted me to mention his name and to authenticate his role in my story). We were in scholarly discussion at the hotel bar. At the time, none of us could recall clearly how the topic came about but we were unable to decide the gestational period of an elephant. It was resolved that since I was clearly the least distinguished and certainly the least industrious of the trio, I should be deputed to find a knowledgeable ‘consultant’ and then inform the other two.

The task proved difficult. I first approached the Professor of Zoology—who shall remain nameless—at a prestigious university. When I put the crucial question to him, emphasising that two famous neurologists had instructed me, he was frankly disappointing. He could not be sure. He knew it was many months, perhaps of the order of a year, but could not be more precise. In fact he gave me the distinct impression that he had far more important problems to resolve. It emerged that he was deeply concerned with the sexual habits of an obscure oriental eel. I felt that I had encountered an impenetrable intellectual impasse.

I then contacted the London Zoological Society. The director, the assistant director and his assistant, for reasons that were not clear to me, had all decamped to a remote part of the Brazilian jungle, leaving only a PhD student in command. I cheered up when he mentioned that his thesis concerned mamma- lian behaviour and I felt that I had at last met the right consultant. To my chagrin, he confessed that he did not know the answer to the question and did not appear to be particularly interested.

My spirits were dashed. Then I gradually realised that my choice of consultant had not been sensible. I really required the advice of an experienced practical authority. I asked the zoo telephone operator if I could speak to the person who looked after the elephants. I was firmly informed that there was no need for a telephone extension in the elephant house and rather caustically that it was unlikely to be required by the residents or by—and here emerged the first helpful clue—their keeper Mr Shamus O’Reilly (I later discovered that he was from southern Ireland) who was at lunch.

I left a message requesting Mr O’Reilly to telephone me at his convenience. I subsequently worried about the appropriateness of my request. Recalling that many Irishmen have a deep affection for the beauty and precision of words, I remembered the famous Irish writer Sean O’Casey’s play Juno and the Paycock and how one character posited “what is the stars?” and Captain Boyle’s response, “t’is a darlin’ question”. Because it then occurred to me that Mr O’Reilly may have euphemistically interpreted the location of the proposed meeting to be the smallest room of the house and that, like his work place, there would be no telephone.

Eventually, I met up with Mr O’Reilly and I was immediately sure that at last I had found the right consultant. He was very well informed. He spoke quietly and politely in a non-condescending manner and indicated that he was fully aware of the importance of my mission and gravely considered the topic with the gravity of one savant talking to another. His bedside decorum was impeccable. He began by requesting me to describe the problem in detail and how it came about in the manner of an experienced clinician eliciting a history from an anxious patient. After making me feel relaxed and confident that I was in the presence of a man who was deeply con- cerned to help, I was able to unburden myself and respond to his detailed anamnesis. After a thoughtful pause, the oracle spoke.

Most of the facts concerning breeding habits came from circuses where, for professional reasons, trainers were practically concerned with elephantine copulation, and that most

“And when was your last period?”

such organisations employed the Indian variety. The generally accepted opinion was that the gestational period was 15–24 months. Sensing without comment from me that my neurological colleagues required more precise information, he went on to tell me more about the Asian creatures. It was important to distin- guish between male and female calves. For the female, it was probably 640 ±25 days and for males 647±20.

You can imagine my relief and pleasure that I had found the right consultant and promptly conveyed Mr O’Reilly’s opinion to my friends. Even much later, we still could not recall just how this fascinating topic had arisen. Perhaps it was because of the excellent wine at the bar. Nevertheless, on reflection, I felt obliged to indicate to my colleagues that if the problem had arisen as a consequence of questionable practices involving a female elephant, it would be prudent to avoid meeting the ele- phant’s mother until at least 640 days—or thereabouts—had elapsed.

[richard-the-boy-wonder-blog]

I was tagged by: @rebel-eds , thanks for giving me something to do B 💓

1. last drink?: Shitty imitation coffee. 

2: last phone call?: my mommy.

3. last text message?: "okay mommy" you can only guess who i sent it to.

4. last song you listened to?: Best Friends by Grandson. (Its a banger beatbi suggest everyone give it a listen)

5. last time you cried?: Thusday night last week.

6. dated someone twice?:  Yes, and i was mistaken both times.

7. kissed someone and regretted it: I kissed a guy who only kissed me to date my mom.

8. been cheated on?: Yeah actually, and the kicker was that it was an irl relationship between me and this person and they cheated on me with someone from across the country... So.

9. lost someone special?: Not really?

10. been depressed?: Oooooh boy.

11. gotten drunk and thrown up?:  Story time! Ive been black out drunk, once. I invited my current bf over for some video games (we had been dating for like a month maybe) and i thought "boy imma get stupid and put the moved on him" drank 2 things of box wine to myself (1 box is equal to 4 glasses of wine lol) ended up getting sick really fast and left my bf to watch my younger 2 siblings while i threw up. Thats all i remember. (I think i also tried to shave my legs?)

Fave colors

12. Green (every single shade)

13. Black, like oil black so its not as dark.

14. Like a dusty brown yellow color.

in the last year have you…

15. made new friends?:  I think so? I hope so cause theres alot of people on here i just recently met that im already considering my friends.

16. fallen out of love?: Yes... Honestly its the saddest feeling in the world.

17. laughed until you cried?: I did that last night over the fact i said i wanted to become a professional hotdog juicer.

18. found out someone was talking about you?: Yeah, im a snoopy bitch.

19. met someone who changed you?: Oh yes, some of them were for the better, but this one person im thinking in particular... I wish he would stop.

20. found out who your friends are?: Yeah actually, i moved and alot of the people i considered "friends" started talking crap, and alot of the people i just considered stuck up for me.

21. kissed someone on your facebook friends list?: Does my mom count?

general:

22. how many of your facebook friends do you know irl?: Like a solid 80% of them, others are people i briefly met at cons or whatever.

23. do you have any pets?: I have 2 kitties! My sisters fat cat Juno and my demon Leia.

24. do you want to change your name?: Not really, i feel like ive got a pretty cool name.

25. what did you do for your last birthday?: I cried and threw up on myself lol.

26. what time did you wake up today?: 8:46 am i remember because i wooe up amd the first thought i had was: "if i dont get up the carrots will attack."

27. what were you doing at midnight last night?: Editing my fic and watching School of Rock.

28. what is something that you can’t wait for?: I have a sad life thats going nowhere so i have nothing to look forward to.

30. what are you listening to right now?: California Dreamin' by The Mamas and Papas.

31. have you ever talked to a person named tom?: I worked for a guy named Tom. Tom was an asshat.

32. something getting on your nerves?: The fact that im not aloud to sing or dance around the hoyse anymore.

33. most visited website?: Tumblr lol.

34. hair color?: I had purple hair before i dyed it brown, so its kinda like orangy brown with a tint of pink.

35. long or short hair: This is a hard question because my hair is a mega floof. So it looks short but when i flat iron it its fairly long.

36. do you have a crush on someone?: Honestly.... I think so.

37. what do you like about yourself?:  Im not a huge fan of my outsides (my appearance) but i love my insides. I think im hella funny, and goofy but i know im not very pleasant to look at. But thats okay ☺

38. want any piercings: I already have my snake bites and 2 holes in each ear, but im dying to have my bellybutton, eyebrow, and either my nipples or tongue done. (Maybe a double helix UGH i dont know)

39. blood type: i think im AB positive?

40. nicknames: Jae, JJ, Jada, Scoob, scooberndude, bug, beb, moose, little angry one, you.  

41. relationship status: Taken.

42. zodiac: imma Capricorn.

43. pronouns: I mostly go by They/them, but im okay with her/she too.

44. fave tv show: Ive re-discovered 'Dan vs. Everything' and im in love.

45. tattoos: ive got 4, 1 on my left arm, 2 of my right. And one on the back of my neck (i should just face reveal and show them honestly i get asked about them so much)

46. right or left handed: left handed (imma diamond in the rouge)

47. ever had surgery: GOD NO.

48 . piercings: Yep like i said before. Ove got 6, my snake bites and 2 in each ear.

49. sport: I USE to play baseball amd hockey. (I was also on a roller derby team if that counts)

50. vacation: I haven't been on vacation since i was 8.

51. trainers: No.

more general

52. eating: I was told that you should drink water 20 minutes before eating, because dehydration can feel like hunger. I started doing that like a week ago and ive eaten maybe 4 times since 😂

53. drinking: Water 😎 (hydration is sexy, yall should go get some)

54. im about to watch: myself post this amd regret it.

55. waiting for: my mom to get home so i can come put of my room.

56. want: More records.

57. get married? After some consideration, probably not ever gonna happen.

58. career: i dunno yet, i just know i wanna go to film/art school!

59. hugs or kisses: keeses 😙

60. lips or eyes: The eyes.

61. shorter or taller: i dont really mind either, evidentally though its always tall because im short as fuck.

62. older or younger: Still doesnt really matter to me, as long as they aint a pedo.

63. nice arms or stomach: Arms, because i love being held.

64.  hookup or relationship: a relationship where you pretend not to know each other and "hook up"

65. troublemaker or hesitant: im not really either? Like im not very shy, but im not so far out there that i get in trouble.

66. kissed a stranger: Thats how you get hepatitis.

67. drank hard liquor: Yes, i still would but i get hella nervous about it (im a stoner not a drinker eeeeh)

68. lost glasses: yep! Thats why i dont have them now.

69. turned someone down: Not really. No one has ever asked me out before :/

70. sex on the first date: im a hoe and proud, but this is a major no no.

71. broken someones heart: i think so... But they broke all of me first.

72. had your heart broken: Ive had alot more than just my heart broken.

73. been arrested: Yes i was arrested when i was 9.

74. cried when someone died: Ive been crying over David Bowie for 2 years now, yes.

75. fallen for a friend: This is the only way i can get into a relationship

do you believe in…

76. yourself: Yes! I can do the thing!

77. miracles: Sadly no, ive never had one happen for me.

78. love at first sight: Kinda? Like it starts out as "i wanna punch your face in" at first site, and THEN i fall in love.

79. santa clause: yes because my papa is santa.... I seen it.

80. kiss on a first date: i always barf if someone tries to kiss me on the first date. (Not because it grosses me out but because i got bad anxiety lol)

81. angels: Absolutly because all my friends are angels 💓

82. best friend’s name: I... I dont have one? (Does my twin count? Her name is Dawn)

83. eye color: Green!

84. fave movie: Probably Pretty in Pink.

85. fave actor: Lesie motherfucking Jones! This girl is amazing, she went to an art school in Colorado for a basketball scholarship and ended up in theater and on SNL instead. I aspire to be cool enough to earn my way onto SNL.

I should tag some peepes: @trashmouthmissy @spaghetti-head-eds , @thegreatwhiteferret , @beepbeepbongoboyy , and anyone else who wants to do this can and tag me saying i tagged you 😎

[childrenofhypnos]

Chapter 25: Mr. God of War

Joel reported back two days later that his location for practicing gateways was free and clear, but the moment he texted Emery, she also got a call from Grandpa Al.

“The Ward reviewer has arrived,” he said. “Bring Wesley with you and come see me.”

As the governing body of the North American arm of the Hypnos State, the Ward was required to review every Hypnos education facility under its watch. Once a year, a reviewer was sent out to examine the campus, interview students, faculty, and staff, and sit in on classes. Once a year, Fenhallow received a high rating and a commendation from the State for continued excellence. Their reports were released into public record to show everyone outside the State how their protectors’ educations were proceeding.

The reviewers were usually tight-lipped executive types from the non-dreamhunter divisions of the Ward. They were always trained in proper procedure, but they were always from different departments, like they’d been volunteered for the job.

When Emery and Wes got to Grandpa Al’s office, Emery thought for a moment that she had the wrong room. Grandpa Al was there, sitting behind his desk, with the window where it always was and his tea cabinet behind him, and Grandma Juno’s famous powder-blue teacup resting next to his nameplate. But there was another man in the room with him, dark-skinned, barrel-chested, and bare-armed even in the cold depths of a northern October. A silver-and-gold tattoo of a handaxe lined each forearm, the axe heads curving against his biceps and triceps. He was perched on the edge of the desk, arms crossed, huge frame heaving with laughter.

Emery could sense dreamkiller all over him, like a stench.

“Oh no,” Wes said under his breath.

“Come in.” Grandpa Al motioned them into the room. The big man wiped his eyes as his laughter quieted. He slid off the desk and stood to his full height, a little taller than Wes.

“Westerman!” He threw an arm around Wes’s neck and pulled him in for a quick embrace. His voice rattled Emery’s bones; until then, she’d thought Wes’s voice was deep. “I heard you’ve been getting yourself into trouble.”

“Hi, Uncle Ares,” Wes grunted into a large armpit.

“Emery,” Grandpa Al said, motioning toward their guest, “This is Ares Montgomery, the reviewer from the Ward. You’ll be showing him around campus. I had David send you his requests for his rooms and what he’d like to see.”

“I’m pretty easy, don’t worry.” Ares released Wes. He paused, picked at Wes’s hair a bit, looking unimpressed. “You need a haircut, boy. Your momma would be sick. I’ll give you one while I’m here. I’m great with hair.”

Ares himself had only the barest of black stubble across his head.

“Yeah,” Wes said.

“Ares works in the higher echelons of the North American Ward,” Grandpa Al continued, “so it’s very important we make a good impression.”

“You’re gonna make them think I’m lying about being easy, Al.”

Grandpa Al smiled. “I wouldn’t want Em to think it’s not a challenge.”

Emery said nothing. This was Grandpa Al’s nice-to-visitors voice. When he glanced at her, there was a hesitation, a searching, in his gaze. He was still hiding something. He was still looking for something in her. He still knew she’d lied.

To get away from that gaze, she brought up her email on her phone and found a message from Receptionist David with an itinerary and a list of requests for the room.

“We’ll need a little while to get all this ready,” she said.

“Take your time,” Ares said. “I have a few things to check into in the city.”

Grandpa Al glanced again at Emery and smiling encouragingly. For a moment she wondered if he knew she’d been in the library, and if he knew what she’d been searching for. He did have eyes all over campus, after all…but they’d been careful not to let anyone near them, not to speak too loudly, and they all knew how important it was not to tell anyone else.

Then he looked away again, and her insides uncoiled, and she grabbed Wes and hurried out of the room.

~

Emery had only given Ares's list a cursory glance in Grandpa Al's office; when they actually got down to trying to fill the requests, Ares was not entirely as easy as he'd advertised.

The bed was to be made up with hospital corners, curtains were to be taken off all the windows in the room and stored "where they would not be seen," and all furniture was to be removed except for the bed and the writing desk. The list specifically stated that the writing desk's chair was also to be removed. He also wanted a minifridge, four wall mirrors--one for each wall--and a throw rug that would cover most of the floor, all of which to Emery made the "remove the furniture" request seem a little silly.

Emery glared at the list as they got started. "Cucumber water. He wants a minifridge filled with cucumber water?"

Wes shrugged. "It's good for you."

"And why did he need the bed made up? He's not going to sleep in it! Why didn't that get removed, too?"

Ares was staying in August House, the building used for faculty, staff, and guest housing on the west side of campus. They moved the furniture out of the room first. It was only a few chairs and an old armoire, and they shoved them into the unused room next door. The curtains came down too, and got stuffed inside the old armoire. Emery had a rug in her own room that they hauled across campus. It wasn’t wide enough to fill the floor, but by that point she didn’t really care. To acquire the minifridge and its cucumber water, she had to enlist Joel’s help; his schmoozing with the cafeteria members procured a loaned minifridge from their break room and a pitcher of cucumber water they tucked inside once the fridge was hooked up.

Ares wandered in as soon as the fridge door closed.

“Very nice,” he said, looking around. “And timely! But it looks like I took up most of your morning. Why don’t we get lunch? It’s on me.”

It was all on Fenhallow, really, because they didn’t pay for their meals. Students and staff could check in to the food lines in the Crossing’s atrium three times a day for food, and as the reviewer, Ares was going to be handed whatever he wanted. As they entered the Crossing, the lunch crowds parted for them, watching Ares pass with scared reverence. They didn’t have to know he was the reviewer; his presence filled the room without a title.

The tattoos helped. Emery glanced at them every chance she got; the lines of silver and gold glinted in the fluorescent lights, drawing her eye. Most dreamkillers wore their weapons as jewelry or additions to their clothes, like the dreamhunter students did. Emery hadn’t even known they could be carried around as tattoos.

Tattoos. So cool.

“What do you kids do for fun around here?” Ares said as they sat at a table near the fountain with their food. He had a surprisingly small amount of food on his plate for such a big person—just a banana and a cup of yogurt—and Emery tried to remember if the other dreamkillers she knew are so little. She rarely saw Grandpa Al eat, and she’d never even thought about her parents doing regular human things. They were parents.

Emery started in on her salad, pretending it was ice cream, and said, “You know. Play soccer. Get chased by urban legends. Normal stuff.”

“I heard about the Fox. Urban legends like those are tough to handle even for a dreamkiller. They require a little finesse.”

“Well, you know…” Emery settled her elbow on the table and her chin on her fist. Lettuce threatened to fall from the tines of her fork. “Finesse is my middle name.”

“No it’s not.” Edgar appeared from nowhere, sliding into the seat between Emery and Wes, with nothing on his lunch tray but a bowl full of pudding. “It’s Morrigan.”

Wes made a noise that might have been amusement. “Morrigan?”

Emery scowled. “Shut up. It’s some Irish goddess thing, my dad wanted it.” Then she flicked Edgar’s ear. “Where’d you come from?”

“Algebra,” he said.

“Hi there,” Ares said. “You must be Edgar.”

Edgar looked up slowly, eyes wide and face flushed, like he’d just realized Emery and Wes weren’t alone. Even sitting down on the other side of the table, Ares dwarfed him. He stared at Ares with his pudding bowl held close to his chest.

“Yes, this is Edgar,” Emery said when it was clear Edgar wasn’t going to respond.

“I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting you two before,” Ares said, “though I have met your parents. Zoya and Liam.” He shook his head with a good-natured slurp of yogurt. “And people think I’m scary.”

“We’re pretty impressive,” Emery said, deadpan.

Ares laughed. “That sense of humor you definitely got from your dad. Biggest smartass I’ve ever met. You’d never guess it by looking at him.” He looked between the two of them. Edgar was still staring back, cradling his pudding bowl. “The State’s still pretty interested in you, little guy. And you, too, Emery—in both of you. This has been generations in the making, down from your great-grandparents. The leaders of the Hypnos State think you might mean a whole new future for dreamhunting. One where we don’t have to worry about the Insanity Prime and doppelgängers.”

All the muscles in Emery’s back knotted up. She forced herself to chew and swallow.

Wes cleared his throat and said, “I think that might still be a few generations away, Uncle Ares.”

“Sure, sure,” Ares said, still smiling. “But damn, it’s nice to wonder.”

~

Ares left them after lunch, citing a message he’d received on his cuff from the Hypnos Center down the street, and returned half an hour into their weapons class.

Class started off with several of their classmates spouting the rumors that had already begun popping up across campus: that the reviewer was a grade-A certified dreamkilling badass, a man who could behead his enemies with a single punch before he drank the blood from their gaping throats, who made the Dream itself tremble in fear. Isaiah and Sam Howard spent ten minutes pretending to reenact Ares’s dreamhunting exploits, despite having no idea who Ares was. They only stopped when Marcia blew threw the gym doors and snapped at them to get to their training posts.

Emery had switched to the moving targets in the shooting range by the time the rippling pressure of the Dream swept over Hothram Hall, the feeling of an approaching dreamkiller. The class shuddered, lowering weapons. Marcia’s quick sweeping glare sent them into action again, but with less vigor than before.

The gym doors opened. For a moment Ares stood there, framed by the doorway, looking serious and gigantic. The class stopped again and stared. Marcia started walking toward him.

Then the widest, happiest smile broke over Ares’s face, and he threw his massive arms out to the sides and yelled, “MARSHMALLOW!”

Marcia collided with him. He picked her up and swung her around. Emery had never thought of Marcia as a “pick her up and swing her around” kind of person, but here it was, happening—and Marcia was smiling when Ares set her back on her feet.

“Everyone over here,” Marcia called. The students left their posts and made their way to the far end of the track. With that smile on his face, Ares really did look more like an enormous teddy bear than a grade-A certified dreamkilling badass. When everyone was gathered around, faces shiny with sweat and weapons tucked away or leaned on for support, Marcia knocked on Ares’s barrel chest with one fist. “This is my father, Ares Montgomery. He’s a weapons expert, and part of Argos for the North American Ward.”

Argos? Emery glanced at Wes, who was looking right back at her. Grandpa Al had only said Ares worked in the higher echelons of the Ward, not that he was in a special sector—and not that he worked for nightmares-kill-her-now Hypnos State intelligence agency Argos.  

Ares Montgomery was part of the Hypnos State’s CIA.

“Ares, like the god of war?” This was Veronica Lash, leaning on the staff of her naginata near the back of the group.

“That’s Mr. God of War to you,” Ares said, and though his voice rumbled like thunder, he was still smiling. Marcia, fists planted on her hips, beamed with vicious pride. She looked like a slightly smaller version of him, with lighter skin and freckles and that bright orange hair.

“Are those really your weapons?” called Sam Howard, coming out of his brother’s shadow for the first time that day. He motioned to Ares’s arms with one of his two daggers.

Ares gripped his right forearm over the handle of the tattooed axe. When he lifted his hand, the handle came with it. A soft murmur of appreciation rose from the class. Even with the new sense of unease tightening at the base of her spine, Emery couldn’t help but be impressed. The axe emerged from Ares’s skin fully formed, like he was pulling it from a pool of water; the skin it left behind was smooth and unblemished. He swung the axe twice in the air to let the blade sing, then dipped it back into his arm. The tattoo rippled back into place along his muscles.

“When you’re dreamkillers,” he said, “these are the kinds of things you’ll be able to accomplish. I’ll be touring your campus and classes until the end of the week, and I hope to see you all working hard to be your best.”

“Back to stations,” Marcia snapped. “You’ve got a Ward official watching you. Act like it.”

The class dispersed.

“Emery, could I speak to you for a moment?” Ares said.

Emery glanced at Wes. He hesitated until Marcia waved him off.

“I didn’t get a chance to speak to you alone yet,” Ares said. “I wanted to get it out of the way.”

Emery was one of the few students whose weapon training didn’t make her sweat much, but she could feel it gathering under her clothes.

Ares laughed. “Relax! You look like I’m gonna cut your head off! You’re not in trouble. I want to ask you some questions.”

He couldn’t know about the doppelgänger. She barely knew about the doppelgänger.

She shifted feet. “About what? The Sandman?”

“Right on the money.”

“Is that part of the review?”

“No—I’m here for that, but I was also sent to investigate the Sandman’s activities, as they were rather concerning to the State. I read the reports of your missions, but I’d like to hear your experiences first hand. It’s not that I don’t believe your reports, I just prefer to hear the story myself, if I can. Makes it easier for me to separate myth from fact. You can start from the first night you were assigned the mission.”

Emery looked around. “Right now?”

Ares rolled his shoulders, settling in. “Right now.”

She glanced back at Wes before she began. He was watching them from the training dummies, but looked away quickly. Would Ares ask him for the same story later? What if their accounts didn’t match up?

She explained everything she could remember, careful to leave out any mention of doppelgängers or Klaus following her. They had been careful to keep any of those details from their mission reports, too, and that gave her hope that they could keep their stories straight without collaborating first. She finished with Klaus’s appearance on campus.

Ares nodded through the whole thing, expression never changing. “And you and Wes went to speak to the Sandman after his capture, didn’t you?”

Emery’s heart skipped a beat. Beside Ares, Marcia shifted out of her stance and said uncomfortably, “We all know his name. You don’t have to keep calling him that.”

Ares regarded her for a long moment, then said to Emery, “Why did you want to speak to Mr. Warwick?”

“We—we thought, since he came back to campus to help cure my poisoning, he might answer our questions. We wanted him to explain why he was stealing sand from the labs on campus.”

Ares made a noise. “Did he?”

“Yes. He said he’s addicted to it. It helps keep him awake.”

Another noise. Emery couldn’t tell if he was approving what she was telling him or shrugging it off as nonsense. She kept her face very still, afraid the slightest twitch of a muscle would give away the second layer of the story and the fear that had sat, twisted in the pit of her gut, since she saw that picture of her doppelgänger.

If he knew about it—and if anyone would have means to know, it would be an agent of Argos—the Ward would have already served Emery her termination papers.

“Interesting,” Ares said at last, and the tension blew out of Emery like air from a leaking balloon. “I don’t doubt that claim, but he may have had ulterior motives for that sand as well. I’ll be speaking to the S—to Mr. Warwick while I’m here to see what I can learn about his activities. If you remember anything he might have said or done that seemed suspicious, I’ll be here.”

He turned to Marcia, grabbed her around the neck, and pulled her over to kiss the top of her head. “Dinner’s on me tonight,” he said. Then he marched toward Wes’s station, calling out, “Westerman! Knock that thing’s head off, I want to see what that nonsense hammer can do.”

Emery and Marcia were left alone.

“I’ve always wondered what we could call you,” Emery said, shaky. “Like Marshy, or whatever. I should have thought of ‘Marshmallow’.”

To Emer’s suprise, Marcia didn’t even bat an eyelash. Like her father’s appearance had corked her rage. She kept her voice low. “If you for a second think he believed you, you’re stupider than I thought. He won’t press you here because it’s public and he knows you’ve been through a lot recently, but there’s a reason the dean assigned him to you and Wes.”

“So they know there’s more to this?”

“The definitely suspect there was more to what Klaus was doing, yes. They may not know exactly what, but they don’t call in Argos members for drug addiction cases. Either they think Klaus was stealing sand to make some kind of city-wide sleeping bomb, or they think he was up to something else.

“But look—there’s a reason they send my dad specifically. He used to interrogate dreamseekers on their activities in the Dream. Trying to interrogate a dreamseeker is like trying to punch through a concrete wall.”

“Your dad does look like someone who could punch through a concrete wall.”

“Watch what you say around him,” Marcia said. “If they find out you knew about your doppelgänger and didn’t report it, they’ll find out I was the one who told you to hide it. And if they find out Klaus was involved, they’ll sentence him to dream death. He’s already teetering on the edge of that sentencing anyway. So keep your mouth shut.”

All the clever sarcasm in the world couldn’t quell the upset in Emery’s stomach. She felt like a a very small mouse hiding in a field inhabited by very large predators, and one wrong move would turn them all in her direction.

(Next time on The Children of Hypnos —> sssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss)