#ch: jude perry

[queenscharacters]

"He's not really my boyfriend... it's complicated but I just wanted you to know that... Trace and I are just friends." Haven to Jude

There were a million thoughts swarming Jude's head. Was he supposed to apologize? Ask her to explain what the hell she was talking about? Actually show just how elated he was by the revelation? He also couldn't help but wonder if she was admitting this to him because she caught onto his crush, or if maybe, had one herself. Was that a completely crazy idea? Was he too in over his head?

Realizing that he'd yet to say anything in a timely manner, he blushed. Then ran his hand through his hair, tugging a bit at the ends of it. That had always been a nervous habit of his. "I...uh...sorry, I guess I'm just surprised. Didn't expect one of the school's golden couples to be, ya know, fake." Jude shrugged, worrying at his lower lip. He didn't know what else he could say without making it (if it wasn't already) painfully obvious just how much he liked her.

As if he could really hide that. "So, like, there's no romantic feelings between either of you?" He clarified, trying to keep his tone casual, conversational. His eyes definitely betrayed him. Jude didn't know how he was supposed to just curb his excitement now that he knew that Haven was actually single. That maybe, even if highly unlikely, she could reciprocate his feelings.

When Haven shook her head, it was nearly impossible to keep the grin off his face. "Damn," Jude mused, averting his gaze since he knew his face was overheating again, "Trace's loss, then." He said decidedly, nodding. Now wasn't the time to act giddy, no matter how elated he currently was. "I don't blame you for using him as a shield, though. You'd probably never be left alone if guys knew otherwise."

[falseknight]

dead, nothing going on in my head

Jude digs up an acquaintance's grave with the help of a person she met on the train. She still hasn't decided how many people will be leaving this alive.

ch: 2/3

word count: 6.2k

[ash-rabbit]

Abitc Ch 11 Cuts: Part 2

This one actually takes place much earlier, in place of Elias asking after Rosie's shifting accent, looping back into the mention of the chapter 1 shovel.

565 words. Despite the lighter nature, and smaller chance of alienating part of the audience, this doesn’t add much to character or plot. Inaction is more liable to get Elias killed so there’s no point to it, and discussing potential research avenues won’t lead to anything. And it felt like another concession, especially after encountering a microagression everytime I left the house to do something other than walk my dog.

Also, just, maybe, if you did feel alienated by Rosie's spiel, it is perhaps, not a bad thing, to maybe gain a glimmer of understanding of what it's like to be a visible minority in western society. It is also me being mortally offended by Jude Perry joining the Desolation for such a shallow reason. I will not go into it here on how Jude Perry is written like a white woman. Additionally if anyone wants to make a comment about what I did with the fortune cookies and web I will happily address that as someone who is half Chinese.

He wants to ask, but it doesn’t feel like the right time. He skims a statement at random, something about an evil ghost woman with a glasgow smile in a dark alleyway. Likely fake and based on some foreign ghost story, the finagling of how to get out of the situation reads very urban legend.

“Do you recognize this by any chance?” he asks, sliding it across the table.

“Oh, I had a Japanese friend who told me this one. The slit-mouthed woman, if you say no she kills you, and if you say yes she gives you a matching smile. You have to throw candy at her, or tell her she’s average, some variations just say you have to politely excuse yourself” Rosie nods, attaching a sticky note to the page. “It’s a pretty common theme over there. There’s one about public toilets and not accepting the colourful toilet paper. Blue gets you strangled, and uh, the other, red, gets you bled out.”

“But what if your stall is out?” Elias asks, marking another statement down as the opening scene of ‘Hamlet’. Honestly, it’s like these people aren’t even trying. Surely they could come up with something original. “Could I ask for green?”

“That gets you dragged straight to the underworld for eternal punishment.” Rosie snorts. “The best you can do is run or just say no.”

“Really?” He sets the page down. “That could make for an interesting paper. A comparison of cultural values through the analysis of urban legends. Chronologically of course, to measure the societal shifts within each compared culture of course. Maybe a series of books- ah, that’s not important.” He shakes his head, clearing away the old research cobwebs.

“I don’t know, it could be important to someone.” Rosie says with a small grin teasing at the edges of her lips. “When’re you going to write these papers?”

“Me? Ha! The amount of work that would take would bury me. Most legends are only known orally in their native language, and the popular text version is almost never the correct one, usually a propaganda piece. The amount of work to find regional variants would be absurd, if anything it’d have to be a group effort.” He pauses, and leans back, looks at Rosie. “You know, there’s no reason you can’t write it. Anything you say would be better than what the ‘Mongolian Death Worm’ men put out.”

Rosie snorts. “That’s a low bar Elias, but it’s not a bad idea. Shame Research wouldn’t take me.”

“Research doesn’t deserve you.” He says absently, plucking through the pile in search of something worthwhile. Wait. He clears his throat. “Your talents are much better suited to Artefact Storage anyway.” Nailed it.

“Who’re you trying to fool?” she asks, smiling audibly.

“I have a reputation to uphold.” He sniffs.

“You mean the absolute hole you’ve dug yourself into?”

“Exactly so!” He grins broadly, before leaning in to whisper conspiratorially. “It’s a very good pit, full of near impenatrable bedrock and enough silt to deter even the most determined door-to-door salesman.”

“I’m very good at gardening, and I’m sure there’s a shovel that we can use to help dig you up. Place like this, I bet the shovel will do most of the work for me.”

“We’ve actually got a shovel like that.” Elias says. “It’s very sturdy, can cut through stone and everything”

[queenscharacters]

"He said it wouldn't be proper but I think he just did want me.../doesn't/ want me..." Haven to Jude (sad smile, little shrug, nbd sad face)

"Your stepdad is a fucking moron." Jude said before he could filter his thoughts, the disgust clear in his voice. He was a pretty mellow dude all things considering, but right now? He felt borderline murderous. Haven sounded, and looked, so impossibly small. Like she was expecting him to nod in understanding, like he could possibly see some truth in her stepfather's blasphemy. Even if she tried to sound nonchalant, he could see the pain in her expression.

"Anyone would be lucky to have you in their family. Any sane person would want you to join theirs." He met her eyes as he spoke. He didn't want her to miss the intensity behind them; how he was was so earnest in his words. Jude was trying to be less conspicuous about his feelings for her, out of sheer fear he was making things weird, but he doubted anyone else in Haven's life was as explicit about the joy she brought them. The thought alone made him sick.

He remembered the first time he saw her. Jude wished he wasn't he cliche and could say that he hadn't fallen head over heels immediately. He had. Or rather, he had found her beautiful from the first time he noticed her. And, fuck, Jude wished he had noticed just a bit more. Maybe if he had, he would've realized she was more than the girl he put on a pedestal. It didn't bother him that she wasn't as perfect as he once thought, but it absolutely devastated him to think of all the suffering she endured by herself because no one else knew better. He really should've.

Hell, Haven told him that she wasn't dating Trace, so what did he really have to lose? He knew this wasn't the right time to bring up his feelings, but he knew he could pull her into him and hold her tight. He even pressed his lips to the top of her head a few times, allowing both of them to get comfortable beside each other a few times.

"Fuck what he thinks." Jude almost spat, shaking his head, "I already consider myself lucky to hang out with you as often as I do, but to have even more time with you?" He grinned down at her. "I definitely make sure you feel as special as you've already made me feel."