#gnome lab shit

[skybristle]

i feel silly for asking this but . Should i invest in fucking ,,, sherbet . I know he's good in arena but tbh i gave up caring abt arena i jsut want to beat dark 14 and i can't get my guide's comp to work or even get close

[manicplank]

Hc time! How about everyone’s opinion on Dougie Jones?

Peppino: He doesn't really know him that well. He can't tell the difference between him and the other Pizzards. He sympathizes with him as he knows that Dougie works for The Noise. He knows Noise can be a handful.

Gustavo: He thinks he's okay. The two had a few conversations in the third floor as well as in the Gnome Forest. He thinks he's nicer than the other Pizzards. The two chatted about their bosses and work stuff.

Mr. Stick: He doesn't really know who Dougie is. He's seen him walking around the tower a few times but minded his own business.

Pepperman: He likes Dougie. He tries to get Dougie to do things for him and assist him with miniscule tasks, but Dougie refuses since Pepperman won't pay him for it.

The Vigilante: He thinks Dougie is a good soul, but he doesn't know much about him. He feels sorry that he has to deal with The Noise. He's seen how The Noise treats Dougie, and it is not good.

The Noise: He doesn't like Dougie. He thinks Dougie is an idiot who is shit at his job (and he's not entirely wrong). He gets very angry with him and will shout and scream at him. Due to The Noise's mistreatment, Dougie has tenure and is almost impossible to fire.

Noisette: She likes Dougie. She respects him for putting up with Noise's shit. She occasionally makes him treats like cupcakes or banana bread (her baking is actually good, just not her cooking) as a way to say "thank you for dealing with my manchild of a boyfriend".

Fake Peppino: He doesn't know who Dougie is. He's never seen him or met him before. If they ever met, he would probably like him. Dougie wouldn't be afraid of him.

Pizzahead: He's neutral on Dougie. The whole reason he assigned Dougie as The Noise's assistant was that he was sick of Dougie half-assing things. Dougie was originally his lab assistant, but Pizzahead could only withstand so many explosions. He thinks Dougie is a nice guy but a shitty worker.

Pillar John: He's okay with Dougie. He doesn't know much about him other. He's seen him a few times, but they never really talked.

Gerome: He's alright with Dougie. He feels a little sorry for him having to deal with The Noise, but he also knows how lazily Dougie does things. Gerome half-asses things because Pizzahead imprisoned his brother. Dougie half-asses things for no particular reason, and Gerome doesn't respect that.

[unboxt]

Yay dungeon meshi oc yyayyayayay!!!!! Time for a big info dump heheh (under the cut)

Milden Jacs, 37, He/Him

Gnome Mage (and future novelist) who hails from a humble fishing town in Kahka Brud

I don’t want to write something narrative here man so I’m rambling anyway so Milden is pretty much a classic baby left on the doorstep scenario. He doesn’t know much about being a Gnome and culturally considers himself a half foot, often having an easier time connecting with them due to his general familiarity with the half foot way of existing. This however, is complicated by his life span. Milden’s parents are dead and his siblings aren’t too far from death either. In fact he’s already a great uncle and he’s not even the age of maturity yet! Milden has a hard time comprehending his life span pretty much, still not completely grasping the fact that time moves slower for him in comparison to others. Poor boy is in for a ride…

Anyway on a lighter note, little guy came to the island for writing inspiration! He wants something to be remembered by and to him writing a good book is exactly that. He’s just not got any ideas… so adventuring it is! Him and his honestly kind of shitty magic skills against The Horrors (tm). I think if he met the Touden Party he’d try and study Laios like a lab rat and beg hands and knees to try monster food (dude LOVES the idea of new experiences. It’s a good distraction from time’s ever present and ever moving arrow!)

That’s all my loose ideas of him down now cjsbjdbdj I’m gonna drop a whole load of BONUS FACTS now

Genuinely tweaked the fuck out when he got revived for the first time

Once punted a walking mushroom about 5 ft out of sheer adrenaline. Has never been able to do it again

Has a reputation for dancing whenever he’s drunk at bars (doesn’t comprehend the fact he’s still technically a child??)

Milden is shit at dancing

If asked about his birthday, Milden will say things like “if the deities up above see it to be right… 38 in a month”

Big fan of goofy dad jokes

Favourite monster is the walking mushrooms. He thinks they’re funny.

Learned magic exclusively because he saw a mage in town once and thought they were awesome and proceeded to not leave the local library for about 8 hours.

The scarf he wears is an old baby blanket of his that got upholstered into a scarf. He sleeps with it on for comfort’s sake

Happy Pride btw!

[charliespringverse]

iwbft – monday: a brief summary of my annotations

all highlighted quotes: 101

· ouch/ow/owie: 1

· real/felt/relatable/so true: 4

· aroace: 3

· ☹/☹☹/☹☹☹: 5

They usually just found me annoying, because once I start talking about The Ark, or anything really, I find it kind of hard to stop. — i often reference my jimmy kinnie shit but like,,, angel

I love my real name, but Angel feels like a part of me now. I'm just not used to hearing it in real life. — jay vibes

'And you must give me some writing material, boring girl!! Love you xx' — she took u up on this x

They seem connected. Like the Beatles on Abbey Road, or a group of toddlers holding hands on a preschool trip to the park. — the latter is closer to the truth

The girls. Our girls. — "our girls" vs "our boys" :(

Rowan, the tallest, is to my left with a hand on my shoulder. Lister is to my right, his hands in his pockets. We never really discussed this. It's just what we do now. — does lister keep his hands in his pockets bc he doesn't feel as connected ?

Fortunately for us, I'm excellent at faking being okay with things, even when inside my brain there is a tiny screaming gnome who is definitely not okay. — iconic line

I think he's attractive. Sort of averagely spaced out facial features. That haircut that all the lads are wearing nowadays. Bit like he was designed in a lab. I don't know, really. He looks like the sort of person I should think is attractive. — the a in lgbtqia+ stands for angel rahimi

Not miserable old Radiohead. — boooo rare angel L

'I mean, I guess it's unusual to be into that sort of music, but, you know, it's better than being too obvious.' — fuck off back to ur bucket hat

I say, upbeat as possible, 'Hi, you all right?' — p. 27 !! (note: page 27 is where angel mentions hating when ppl say 'you all right?' as a greeting)

I say this all with a laugh but I do actually wish people thought we were a rock band. We're a rock band. Electropop at a stretch. I'm not a music snob. Shut up. — me in my 5sos era c. 2014

You can tell he gets a little nervous at events like these. — "a little nervous" yeah?

'Not because you think he's attractive...?' — men (derogatory)

[chanceofwhat]

Ok so maybe I invented a gravity falls au.

Long story short, my brain said “Dipple and Maber” instead of the niblings and, while I’m not going to name them that because that’s stupid, I started wondering what would happen if I shuffled things around. Also, I don’t know what to do with Fiddleford so if anyone has ideas, let me hear them please.

This is swap!gravity falls. Including my art, which is mid (except dipper that’s a good dipper)

TLDR main swaps are Dipper/Mabel, Ford/Stan, and Wendy/Soos

M’sorry if the formatting is weird I did this in my notes app~

Dipper = sweater vests, braces, fashion, confidence, unicorns

Mabel = collared jacket, hat, nerves, brains, science

Soos = lesbian badass with a motorcycle and lots of knives. She’s just here cause it’s a decent job, and she only steps in when needed, but she is very protective of the kids.

Wendell = Dedicated & loyal teen who always does his best but he’s a little stupid. Also he has daddy issues. Crush-crazy bi dipper falls in love with Wendell. Wendell’s teen group is the outcasts, but in a very nerdy losery way. This includes Robin the band geek, Timmy the programmer, Kate and Bee the chess players, and Tabitha who could probably be cool and popular if she wanted.

Candy & Grenda = swapped, so little skinny candy does martial arts and big loud Grenda is a gaming streamer with glasses.

Ford got kicked out of home for being a freak, Stan dropped out of college, Ford fought his way through college with loans and scholarships and has a couple PHDs. Ford came to Stan’s tourist trap 30 years ago (which Bill helped build) to talk to him, Stan let him set up a lab in the basement, went down there after being manipulated by Bill and freaked at how big it was, fight, Stan turned on the portal and ended up falling in, now Ford has to run the shack and try to stabilize the portal so it can open a double-sided gateway for Stan to come back, also he convinced everyone that wym ‘Stanley’ it was always ‘Stanford’ and actually now he’d rather go by his full name or just ‘Ford’ thanks.

Ford = Grunkle 1, loves them kids, enthusiastic, uses mystery shack for money, curious, bullheaded, feels super fuckin bad about what happened, tries not to cuss in front of the kids but isn’t a very aware guy

Stan = Grunkle 2, immediately falls in love with the kids, very creative, fighter, a bit scared of being emasculated tbh, nemesis with Bill, total sailor’s mouth

Bill = what if Bill’s the same except he’s a fucking square? You fucking square.

Waddles is a cute lil round goat that Dipper fell in love with and stole, and there’s also a big silly pig named Gompers around

The kids have a lot more fun toys from the start because Grunkle Ford isn’t gonna tell them about the portal, but if his kids want magnet guns, they’re gonna get magnet guns.

Stanley wrote the journals, they’re just accounts of the weird shit he’s run into over time in Gravity Falls. Ford is using #3 to try to derive scientific information about the anomalous nature of the place, but Stan is so Not A Scientist ™ that it’s hard. Mabel finds journal #1 and it’s full of hastily drawn pictures and warnings like, instead of a scientific name and approximate diagrams, it’s “what the fuck is this??” and “fuckin huge!” And Mabel is adding more scientific/helpful labels, Like the gnomes (all girls) are in there as “annoying little shits” “punt them” “if there’s too many to punt, hide.” To which Mabel adds “LEAF BLOWER - VERY EFFECTIVE” and “CAN STACK TO BECOME LARGE CREATURE”

Ford is too chaotic for a journal so he just has stacks of binders full of BS. And again, he doesn’t tell the kids about the lab downstairs or the portal or anything, but he’s 100% willing to give them stuff, and he’s become a chronic liar over time in order to run the mystery shack, signing legal papers and taxes as Stanley but having people call him Stanford.

Anyways, the portal incident happens as normal, and when Stan comes out of the portal he absolutely punches his brother, but the response is “Okay, I might deserve that, but so do you” “Fair enough.” And a reciprocal punch. “So does anyone else know about your secret lab situation?” “Oh, just… the entire US government?” “WHAT?!” And suddenly Stan is the doer and Ford takes a backseat like they did as kids, when Stan would make all the friends for them and beat up the bullies and Ford would do his homework.

The “Billpocalypse,” as Stan so aptly named it, occurs when Mabel starts getting a lot of attention from both Grunkles for being smart and creative and Dipper gets upset and runs off, then gets tricked on promise of being “smarter.” Stan, as always, stands up to Bill and has problems for it, and when the bubble around the town gets discovered, claims that he knows what’s causing it and how to destroy it, not wanting real-scientist Ford to get captured or anything. Dipland is full of candy and unicorns and everyone is equally smart, and Mabel breaks him out by explaining that her intelligence would be useless without his creativity, confidence, and enthusiasm, and the world needs him to save it. The Bill solution is the same, Stan has a metal plate implanted in his head and can’t let Bill in cause he’d discover that Stan was lying, so they swap and Ford gets his mind erased… for like a week, then he’s fine. Show ends with the grunkles going on the road trip of their dreams together in an RV they tricked out.

Thoughts? Feelings? Opinions? Fiddleford ideas? And ofc I welcome anyone else to draw/write for this, I’d love to see more.

[the-faramir]

Extinction Curse Session 2023/09/20: The Hag's Heart

Warning: graphic violence!

Midori, Vavo, and Zookdar entered Opper Vandy's embalming room.

"This chamber has a strong odor of chemicals and decay. A long, brass table stands by the south wall, and at the foot of it, a stained iron grate is fixed in the floor near a pair of barrels and a bucket. The north wall holds a work table with a variety of unusual implements, including a large syringe with tubing attached to a glass tank filled with a cloudy fluid, and a large number of surgical instruments, some still showing bloodstains. The back wall of the chamber is covered in shelving that holds hundreds of urns of clay, stone, and metal as well blank nameplates in brass, and even a few gravestones that have yet to be inscribed with names of the deceased.

"This laboratory is where Vandy drains bodies and embalms them with a chemical mixture of alcohol, camphor, and myrrh. It is an imperfect process, but it preserves a body reasonably well for a few days if the weather isn’t too warm. Drained fluids are poured through the grate in the floor, which descends 6 feet to a gravel sump. Vandy regularly dumps chemicals down this drain, but it does little to forestall the stench of death that arises from within. The shelving at the rear of the lab holds unused urns and gravemarkers that he sells to clients. Cremations are performed off-site."

Vavo pointed toward the urns and gravely stated, "There. The night hag Skarja hid her heartstone in one of those urns."

"Why waste time searching? Let's smash them all!" Zookdar hefted his gnome flickmace and started bashing the urns to pieces. One urn made of lead simply toppled to its side, its lid still intact. "So far, nothing. It must be in that lead one!"

"You know, we could have just looked through them," Midori interjected, "There weren't that many, and those urns looked expensive!"

Zookdar shook off Midori's concerns. "This is too important. We have to stop the hag before she can claim any more victims!"

Vavo approached the lead urn and opened it with no small effort, causing a puff of ashes to billow out. "Let me see…aha!" Vavo pulled out and held aloft a silvery necklace with a heart-shaped pendant made from a clear gemstone. "The Hag's Heart! Midori, hold onto this. Put this in a safe place and tell nobody." He tossed the necklace to Midori, who tucked it away into one of her belt pouches.

Suddenly, the skies outside of the embalming room rumbled angrily. The party rushed outside to investigate.

"The air is split by a cloud of brimstone-laden steam, which parts to reveal a hideous hag with elephantine feet and a body covered in razor-sharp horns."

Midori smacked herself on the forehead. "Ah, shit! We touched her stuff an' pissed her off! Well, it's three on one. Let's get her!" She drew her rapier in preparation to fight.

Then, through the billowing steam, another figure emerged: an enormous black horse with flaming hooves. With every breath, it exhaled black smoke. It strode to Skarja's side and nuzzled her.

"Foolish mortals! That item belongs to me! Give to me my heartstone this moment, and I shall release the mortician to you." She extended her hand expectantly.

Vavo stepped forward, chest out, and struck the shaft of his beer-stein flail defiantly onto the ground. "Foul creature, we shall do no such thing! Your reign of terror ends tonight, for we are true and righteous heroes, and we shall defeat you and your hellish minion!"

Midori's eyes shifted from side to side. "Well, maybe some of us are righteous," she muttered.

"No deal?" Skarja was taken aback momentarily. "Oh, uh, that is only a minor setback. Yes! I shall slay you all and take my heartstone back from your cold, dead hands!" She swiftly mounted her pet nightmare and cackled intimidatingly.

Zookdar bellowed, "Then we fight!" He let out a war cry and dashed at the night hag. A swing of his flickmace connected with her, but did not appear to damage her much. A sweep of his flickmace at the nightmare missed the target.

Midori's attention was drawn to the nightmare as she desperately tried to recall any knowledge she could about the hellish beast. "Uhhh, fiery, smoky horse. Right. Well, EAT ROCKS!" She waved her left hand to telekinetically pull up some blunt stones from the ground, then fired the projectiles at the nightmare. They bounced off of the nightmare's nose, causing it to flinch, earning Midori a menacing glance. "Huh. Guess I better try somethin' else."

Skarja pointed a clawed finger at Zookdar. "Impudent fool! I summon the plagues of the abyss to vex thee!" The color ran out of Zookdar's face and he slumped somewhat, weakened. She slashed out twice at the gnome with her claws for good measure, bloodying his face.

The nightmare bit Zookdar and pounded him with its flaming hooves, knocking Zookdar to the ground.

Vavo shouted, "Zookdar!" He quickly called upon Cayden Cailean for the divine power to heal his injured companion, but Zookdar was still bloody.

Zookdar pulled himself to his feet with some effort and swung at the hag and the nightmare.

Midori lamented, "We never shoulda started this with only three of us! Hey, what if we start up a circus performance, and then send in the clowns! Yeah! Then the clowns can help us fight!"

"Midori!" Zookdar yelled, exasperated, "You're not helping! And it doesn't work that way!"

"Ugh, fine!" She raised her hand upward and her eyes glowed green. "Behold, the grand finale of your wickedness, Skarja! My words, sharp as daggers and swift as arrows, shall pierce the veil of your dark arts. Let the truth bite deeper than lies with my biting words!"

Skarja just looked at Midori and cackled. "Oh, child! Your powers are weak! Perhaps some more weakness would suit you…." She pointed at Midori, shooting a ray of cold light into her forehead. Midori felt her body grow feeble. "Now sleep, little one!" Skarja flicked her wrist and Midori felt a wave of exhaustion hit her, but she shook it off and remained alert.

"Hyaaah!" Skarja encouraged her nightmare to run over Zookdar in a straight line headed toward Vavo, who was unable to evade the trample. Zookdar grunted and collapsed into a heap on the ground. Vavo shrieked in pain from the hooves and caught on fire from the flames.

Vavo stumbled away from his foes and moved toward Zookdar, casting another healing spell his way. "What?" Vavo exclaimed as Zookdar remained still. "Midori, we're in over our heads, here! Zookdar's down!"

Not about to back down, Midori sustained her spell. "Skarja, you may lurk in shadows and deal in nightmares, but your malice is no match for my spirit. With these biting words, I strike at you, let my voice carry the weight of my resolve!" Skarja squawked from the power of the attack. Midori followed up with another telekinetic projectile attack on Skarja, eliciting a hiss of pain.

"You vex me, little one, but first I shall attend to the one with real power!" She turned the nightmare around toward Vavo and readied a strike with her claws. As rider and steed bore down on the halfling cleric, hooves and claws struck true with sickening squelches. Skarja turned toward Midori. "Now it's your turn to die!"

With the last bit of her spell's power, Midori spat out, "Skarja, you may think you're a night terror, but I am the dream you fear! Your malevolence is no match for my melody. With a voice that cuts deeper than the sharpest blade, I unleash upon you the power of my biting words!" Skarja reeled from the hit. Midori let loose more projectiles but completely missed her target.

Skarja wiped her face with her hand. "Little fox. I just realized something. YOU are the one holding my heartstone." She twisted her hands up into the air. "Heart of hearts, bring forth a shadow blast!"

From Midori's pouch where she was hiding the heartstone, a glowing, sickly red light emanated followed by a destructive blast of shadows, lightning, and ice slamming into her body. She screeched with pain as every muscle in her body contracted at once. She almost fell to the ground, but was able to catch herself by using her rapier like a cane, barely holding on to her consciousness. Midori looked up at Skarja in combined fury and defiance. "Still standing, bitch!"

"Not for long." Skarja's face twisted into a cruel, vicious grin. "Crush her!" The nightmare strode forward to trample Midori.

Midori's vision blurred and her eyes flickered shut briefly, opening to see the nightmare drawing closer as if in slow motion. The red light from her pouch illuminated the nighttime scene with surreal highlights and shadows. Once the nightmare's hooves landed upon her, pounding her into the ground with jarring crunches, Midori felt the most intense pain that she had ever felt in her life. She felt the urge to scream but found her throat too full of liquid to make a sound. Before she could process what was happening, the pain stopped, much to her surprise.

Midori thought to roll to the left and jump to her feet, but she quickly realized that she was completely immobilized. Her feet would not respond. Nor her legs. Nor her arms. She could not even turn her head to look for Skarja. Her urge to gasp for air yielded to the inability to move her lungs.

Midori's eyes flickered shut once more. Fractions of seconds became minutes to her.

In her mind's eye, she saw a vision of her parents. "Okaeri nasai, Mido-chan <Welcome back, Mido-chan>," they replied together.

"Tadaima <I'm home>," Midori replied, reflexively. She saw visions of Toby and Myron appear as well. "I'm…dead." They all looked at her with sorrow.

"Wait, where are my siblings? Are they not with you?"

The visions reached out to embrace Midori. She reciprocated, but a wall of force prevented them from touching.

Midori felt something tug at her soul, pulling her farther and farther from her loved ones. "No, wait!"

Midori's eyes opened once more to see Skarja's hideous face grinning down at her, illuminated more brightly by the increasing glow of the heartstone that Skarja had just liberated from its hiding place. "Ah, young fox, how your light fades. Gaze upon me and despair. Your life force ebbs like the tide. Your dawn will never come. This is the fate of all who dare stand against the night."

Midori's eyes closed.

[acredb]

you guys are cool

*gives you my everhood au ideas*

spoilers for after arm getting so its after the cut

its very long i apologise

context: at this point, reds killed the forest spirit, the mushrooms, slim jim shroom (the sprunkel fight), the maze monster and gold pig

(this is literally just bc during a playthrough when i got to this point i figured "...yeah, this would hurt them mentally." so i MADE it hurt ;3 ) (they killed gold pig out of spite, they were the only person red WANTED to kill not counting maze monster)

they couldnt bring themself to kill their friends so they quit. they didnt let the lost spirits know that they were quitting the murder rampage, they just did. ofc the lost spirits weren't happy about this, so they started to 'punish' red for this. they appeared in their dreams, *fucked up* their dreams, and every so often one of them would appear and just...lecture them, using their mental state against them, so this hurt

nobody alive knows about them, not even blue

reds become a lot more protective, meaning theyll get mega pissed if someone hurts blue, green learned the hard way (they decided to prank red into thinking theyd killed blue (dumbass) and red almost killed them they were so upset)

a few weeks? go by and red decides theyve had enough of constantly fearing that they'll hurt their friends so they decide 'What's the point of keeping this stupid arm if all it does is hurt people?' and casually drop it into the incinerator where it burns to a crisp

the lost spirits did NOT like that.

(zoom in to read details but im explaining it more so uh) the lost souls got a lot more direct in how they were making red regret this. they appeared in their dreams *every night* instead of just when they felt like, and warped them more and more until red would wake up terrified

the spirits started following them everywhere, always just out of sight. every time red's seperate from the rest of the group, they appear, multiple at once.

this ended up driving red mad, and they go bezerk, running away into the Peaceful Forest (peaceful my ass) because theyre so afraid to hurt their friends now that theyre not taking any chances

because theyre so unstable they act like a scared animal, if they cant run theyll attack. literally the only person they wont try to hurt is blue, because even in their madness they know they care about them too much to hurt them

after a month and couple weeks of looking for them, rasta beast finds them in the forest eventually, very much scuffed. red does the whole regular run away thing, until they get cornered. a small (physical, not dance) fight breaks down, rasta fighting back in self defense, until they manage to knock some sense into red. for the first time in a while, red's comforted

this does nothing for their fractured mind, but it gives rasta beast a *little* more protection, because they can snap red out of it for even just a couple minutes

rasta beast goes back and tells the others (everyone hangs around prof.orange's lab cause protection) and prof.orange wants to get red into the lab maybe to study them or something so he sends green and purple mages to get them cause theyre magical and shit

after a mad goose chase the two lose red, but green finds some gnomes (the psychadelic ones) and asks them to get red high out of their mind so they and purple can bring them to orange

(little about the gnomes in this au, they can emmit pheromones that stimulate the mind like weed does because there is NO WAY red wasnt high for 'you want gnomes'. also whenever red is high theyre too overwhelmed to do anything so they eventually just flop over and see god until it wears off, which is why green got the gnomes)

it works and now purple and green are bickering about the morality of the drugging while dragging a practically passed out red to the lab

(ive come up with everything until this point, ill make a part 2 whenever i add to this)

(oh yeah and i forgot to mention but prof.orange has a machine and using it seperated pink and red so the vessel is sentient and the soul lives, orange also made a machine that translates some of red' thoughts into audible sound, they were so fucking happy when they heard their voice they cried)

[phantomdoofer]

A Side-Story: In and Out

Giuseppe scratched nervously at the stubborn stubble on his chin.

What's taking Anita and Gustavo so long? Let's get this over with.

Today was the fifth anniversary of the day they took him for the unit, and Giuseppe was extra irritable as a result. Five years. Five years of hell. Then he checked himself. It hasn't been all bad. Even though he'd been kidnapped, cloned, and forced through military training for some shadowy military cabal, he had good friends here, he was in better shape than he'd ever been, and he'd been all over the world. Mostly to blow shit up, but hey. And with a war now on, he could tell they were making a huge difference. There was no telling how many soldiers had been saved by what they did.

Wonder what Peppino is up to.

Suddenly Anita flopped into the chair next to him. She turned her eye to him, the cross-hair in place of the pupil locking onto him. "Sorry, had to make sure the QM had the munitions we'll need for whatever they've got planned for us today. They said anything yet?"

Giuseppe snorted. "Nothing yet. But that's nothing new."

Gustavo climbed into the chair on the other side of Anita. The gnome's mustache bristled as he spoke. "Heard it was some infiltration op." He grinned. "I know you two just love those."

Anita rolled her eyes. "Oh yeah, a gunner and a human bulldozer just love sneaky-sneaky. That's your job."

Giuseppe grinned. They had been told after their initial training they'd been chosen because of their "special talents." Anita could use that eye of hers like a scope, giving her uncanny aim and perception. Giuseppe could channel his emotions into strength and speed, way beyond what a normal human could. When he got mad enough, it formed what Anita liked to call "a wall of pure, concentrated "fuck you"" in front of him, protecting him. As far as Giuseppe knew, Gustavo didn't have any unusual talents, other than being quick-minded. Of course, Gnomes were extra strong and tough anyway, so...

"Ok, ok, you three, listen up." The Major appeared in front of them, as he always seemed to. How in the hell does he get in here without even Anita noticing? "We're on a time limit, so let's get to it." The Major walked to the screen on the wall and clicked a button. A contour map popped up. "What we've got today is an infiltrate and rescue op."

All their eyes widened. Rescue? Giuseppe thought. Not really our forte.

The Major continued. "We're tapping you three because there's a high chance you'll have to blow your way in or out." He pointed at a patch of mountainside. "There's a hidden base in this mountain run by a Demon." They all sat up straight at that. Word was that, while the Breads and the Moles were the aggressors in the war, the Demons were running the show in the background.

Always starting shit, Demons.

The Major clicked to the next slide. A man in a lab coat with dark skin appeared on the screen. "This is Dr. Donovan Houlwea. He worked for the other side until recently, when he started passing us intel. When he tried to defect, he was captured and is being held here. Your job is to get in there and get him out."

Anita glared at the screen. "We're going in to save a Bread? Really?"

"A Ninda," the Major replied, using the proper name, "who's been passing us intel that's saved hundreds of lives. He's a valuable asset, we need him safe."

Anita cursed under her breath, but said nothing. Not like we can say no, Giuseppe thought.

"Any questions?" The Major asked, then clicked off the screen. "You leave in an hour. Necessary Intel will be in the package you receive. Review it on the way there. We're short on time here. I don't have to tell you what to do. You're not the grunts who came in here five years ago. Get in there and get him out. And get yourselves out, too."

~~~~

The three of them crouched on a nearby hill while Anita scoped the place out. Giuseppe looked the place over with binoculars, his anxiety starting to flare like it always did. Even for a secret base, this place is awfully quiet. Most of the lights off, a couple of guards, that was it.

Anita sat down, her eye twitching as it dialed back down into "normal" vision. "Anyone else getting the creeps off this place?"

Giuseppe and Gustavo nodded. Gustavo pointed at the tiny laptop he was carrying. "I've already gotten into their system. The encryption was a joke. Pretty sure our guy's here, but it was too easy. No mines, no automated defenses." He scratched his cheek. "This feels like a trap."

The others nodded. "Right. So what do they expect us to do?" Anita said.

"Sneak in and sneak out would be the way to go," Gustavo said.

Giuseppe shook his head. "But what if they know we know that? They'll expect us to come in guns blazing."

Anita nodded again. "Yep. Damn mind games. So we do it by the book. Gustavo, you sneak in and get us an entry. We'll wait for your signal. We get in, grab this guy, and get out, all quiet-like." She fingered the explosives strapped all over her. "And if they have any surprises, we can always blow the shit out of them. Let's do it."

Without another word, Gustavo nodded and disappeared into the dark. A few minutes later Gustavo's voice popped into the earpiece in their helmets. "Found one. There's a gate in the back I can unlock. Give me thirty seconds, then run like hell for it. It won't stay open long."

Without a word, the tiny black-haired woman climbed onto Giuseppe's back. This was old hat to them. When thirty seconds passed, Anita tapped his shoulder, and Giuseppe took off. Gotta be careful. Don't want to go full tilt, the noise would be too obvious. There it was, the promised gate, open and waiting. Giuseppe darted in and made for the nearest shadow, the gate immediately closing behind him. Way too easy. He felt the panic trying to rise in him, but he quashed it. Save it for the run out, we're probably gonna need it.

Anita tapped his shoulder and pointed to the deep shadows by a large building. Giuseppe could just see a small shadow there waving at them. The two darted over and found Gustavo working on a panel by a steel door. With a muted whoosh, the door opened, and the three drew their arms and darted in. As the door closed behind them, they took in their surroundings. Pipes, red lighting, very industrial. Like a horror movie set. Giuseppe saw a stairwell to the side and gestured to the others, Anita taking point as always, Gustavo second, and Giuseppe bringing up the rear, his trusty shotgun ready to go.

No one. Not a soul. This was definitely a trap.

After several flights down, the stairway opened up into another industrial hallway. Gustavo opened up his laptop and started checking for their man while the other two looked the hallway over. Giuseppe slipped some goggles over his eyes, looking for lasers, fields, anything that might set off an alarm. Still nothing.

Lifting the goggles, Giuseppe saw Gustavo point at a door, and put away his laptop. He gestured, making a door-opening motion, then grinned. In there. Already unlocked for you. After you.

When they opened the door, the doctor was already standing up from his bunk. Giuseppe and Gustavo covered the door while Anita approached him. "Dr. Houlwea? We're here to get you out of here."

The Ninda's eyes went wide. "No, no, run, he's waiting for you! Get o-"

The rest of his words were lost as the floor opened underneath them, sending them tumbling down a huge chute. The four caromed off each other, banging and cursing the whole way. Finally they slid to a stop in a dark, open room.

"Damn it all to hell," Anita moaned. "A trapdoor. A fucking trapdoor. Of all the old-fashioned, cartoon-villain bullshit-"

"Oh, what can I say, I love the classics!" A teasing voice echoed through the room.

Houlwea cringed. "That's him. The Demon running the place."

"Correct! And you played such good bait!" Giuseppe couldn't find the speaker - it seemed to come from everywhere. "And such a delightful catch! Not just any rats, but one of our dear friends' precious special units! Why, I'm flattered." The voice chuckled. "Alas, I have only a short time to play with you. Just for fun, I've set a little nuclear toy to go off in... oh, five minutes."

All four sprouted looks of horror. A nuke? A fucking NUKE? Giuseppe thought. These demons really are batshit.

The taunting voice continued. "Oh well, I would've liked to stay and have fun tormenting you, but the looks on your faces will keep me warm at night. Ta-ta!" The speaker clicked and a loud beeping started to count down.

"Fucking Demons!" Anita cursed. "Okay, gonna assume he lied about the five minutes."

Gustavo was already on his laptop. "Dammit, nothing. Knew it was too easy. There's a second goddamn layer underneath. I can get in, but I don't think we have the time."

Giuseppe closed his eyes. Ok, I think that's my cue. As he assumed a runner's stance, he remembered his trainer's words. Take the fear, the panic, make it fury and rage. Let it fill you. Carry you. He charged at the door. A familiar whine filled their ears as the air protested.

The metal of the door shrieked at it was knocked out of it's frame.

Don't let anything stand in your way.

As Giuseppe ran, his eyes took on a wild, almost demented look. Get them out. Break it all. Go go go!

Anita, Houlwea, and Gustavo ran behind him as he barrelled through the tunnel. "How - how did he do that? That door was solid steel!" Houlwea said.

Gustavo grinned as they ran. "When Giuseppe gets started like this, Hell itself can't stop him."

A wall loomed up, a hole in the ceiling with a ladder at the top. Without thinking, Giuseppe scrambled up the wall, giving gravity the finger the whole way. He kicked the ladder down and spun, charging up the next hallway. This one was filled with figures. Hey look, points! Giuseppe grinned maliciously. They were grunts, cannon fodder. He bowled them over, never slowing down, hitting them with hands, feet, his helmet, and blasted through the door at the end of the hall. A stairway. He stormed upwards, metal and rubber screeching as he turned corners at speeds no normal human could match. If he'd been thinking, he'd wonder where the automated defenses where, why no one was shooting. But there wasn't time for that. Get out, get out.

There it was. The stairwell they used to get in here. He roared up that one as well, and charged into the door to the outside.

BAM.

The door held.

FUCK. No room to get up to speed in here. Giuseppe did a little angry dance as he stared at the door, waiting for the others to catch up. Finally Houlwea and Gustavo appeared.

Houlwea. Gustavo.

"Where's Anita?" Giuseppe growled.

Gustavo popped his laptop back out, typing furiously. "She got overrun by more of those mooks. Told us to follow you."

Giuseppe snarled. "Like hell is she pulling a sacrifice play. Get that door open. I'll get her."

"Sepp, wait -" Gustavo started. No good, he was already gone, the screeching of his boots' soles already echoing up from the stairwell. He sighed and got back to opening the damn door. "Gonna get himself killed one one of these days doing that." He handed Houlwea a sidearm. "Here. If anything other than one of us shows up, shoot it."

Houlwea trembled as he held the pistol. "I've... I've never shot a gun before."

Gustavo didn't look up. "Point at the center of mass, pull the trigger. Not hard."

~~~~

Giuseppe charged down a hallway he hadn't seen before. The infernal beeping was driving him crazy. Where the hell is she?

As he passed an open door, he heard her voice. "Sepp! Over here."

His feet screeching as he turned hard, he rocketed back to the room. He smelled burning rubber. New boots when we get back again. If we get back.

Entering the room, he saw she had several stab wounds in her legs. Goddamn it. He quickly picked her up. "What the fuck are you doing, Neet?"

She held up a small object. "Not sure what this is, but maybe it'll come in handy." As he settled her on his back, she pointed. "Hey, does that monitor over there say what I think it does?"

Giuseppe turned and looked at the monitor.

00:59

00:58

00:57

OH SHIT!

Giuseppe took off, not even noticing he went through the wall instead of the door, borne on the wings of terror. He didn't even bother running up the steps, bouncing off the walls as he went. He barely had time to scoop up Gustavo and the doctor before he busted through the wall, the fence, and the remaining countryside as he did his damnedest to get away from a fucking nuke.

He felt the ground rise up beneath him as a muted roar filled the air. He stumbled but kept going, air screaming around him as he ran. Then the ground behind him settled down, and the air quieted.

Anita grabbed his shoulder, screaming "Sepp! SEPP! STOP! IT'S ALL RIGHT!"

Giuseppe started slowing down, finally coming to a stop. He dropped his charges, and collapsed to his knees, gasping for breath. The others were coughing, the dust around them choking them.

"Goddamn, Sepp," Anita said, "you're fast, but I never saw you run like that before. I think we're a good half a mile away."

Giuseppe looked up, gave them a weak grin and a thumbs-up. "S'what I do."

Houlwea stood up and picked at his coat. Air friction had alternately shredded and burned it. "I think the explosion was deep enough it mostly didn't escape. Still, we should get out of here quickly. The fallout will be bad soon."

Gustavo was on his sat-phone. "Yeah, we need pickup now. Now. Yeah, we got him, but the demon set off a nuke. Yes, a nuke. Yeah, now." He hung up. "Dumbass. "Is this an emergency?" He think I call for a pickup this deep in enemy territory if it wasn't?"

The four of them looked back where the base had been. The mountain was slowly collapsing on itself.

~~~~

As Giuseppe used his medkit to wrap Anita's wounds, she held up the object she'd grabbed. "Hey, Doc, think this is worth anything?"

Houlwea looked at the small object, smiled, and took it. "My research! I thought they destroyed it!" He waved the little drive around. "I saved all kinds of things in here - things your bosses will probably be very interested to see. How'd you find it?"

Anita smirked. "Just grabbed it on a hunch."

In the distance, they heard a helicopter approaching. Gustavo popped the purple flare they'd agreed on as a signal, and the sound started getting louder. When it landed, they scrambled aboard.

The four of them leaned back in their harnesses as the helicopter raced them home.

This is hell, Giuseppe thought, but at least I've got company.

<<Back

Running Hell>>

[captaincleverusernamehere]

The People of Elevenleytown (my new DND setting that’s even weirder than my last one)

(I let my players name a lot of my NPCs, which explains a lot lmao)

Susan: Chief of the Elevenleytown Detective Agency, everyone’s boss. Kind but stern, tired of your shit. Human, light brown skin and curly hair.

Angela: Lab chemist at the Elevenleytown Detective Agency and Percy’s work bestie. 4’10” Lin Manuel Miranda but a woman, with big acrylic nails and a lab coat that is just the Hamilton costume.

Quimby Redman: Postal delivery worker, beloved by the community. Victim of the Oblex. A manticore.

O’Reilly Autoparts: Mechanic and friend of Ralph’s. Dwarf, big beard, covered in motor oil, monotone voice.

Boe Jiden: A local politician running for office. A woman of color. (God this is awful)

Wally Nutt: Widower (partner of Hazel Nutt), works at the post office with Quimby, grows prize-winning walnuts as a hobby. Gnome, wears a giant walnut shell as a hat.

Miss Mood: Priestess and founder of the Jujubee temple of Holy Miss Mood.

Emerson Stewart: Debt collector/tax inspector. Not well liked. Victim of the Oblex. Human.

Bernice Askwright: Researcher, not very outgoing. Victim of the Oblex.

[hoardofshinythings]

Gremlin Notes: Stranger Things Ep. 1-S. 1

Byers have a mut retriever? House doesn’t seem dog lived in. Neighbours? Keep eye on pupper in future episodes. 

Creatures mess with phone lines 

Demogorgon unlocks door from outside (telepathic powers), can teleport though so why? Does it have wherewithal to be a haunting dick? Keep an eye on this to see if something like this happens again. 

Will grabs dads gun, knows how to load it (dad teach him... or mom?? I can see his dad getting impatient with him while teaching him, but then Mom latter teaching him with patience to do it... or! OR. Johnathan. Hmmmmm). I am officially on team ‘Give Will A Gun’. Not even as a treat. Fay boys with boom sticks are badass. 

Joyce does not confirm kid is missing with Wheelers mom. No trust? Or just hopeful? Looks like no trust. Is Mrs. Wheeler a gossip?

BARB DEFF A LESBIAN MY GOD. On SITE. She may not know it but I do. Course she dies dammit.

Phil Larson: someone keeps stealing gnomes from his garden. No murders or other big things in the last 4 years (but no mention of before). Keep an eye on reports of weird, silly, or off things that happen in town for background noise or weird connections you can make later.

OMG Ben is just a gentle giant oh rude. Knows all the truckers and old folks in town. Who the shit would believe he offed himself? The look on his face when she said 11. He called the police.  What if they had arrived first.  Did they really have to kill him? They really really didn’t? Though I guess even if they convinced the both of them the lady was child services it’s a small town word would get around about a starving kid in the woods... but who would connect the dots? Could just be one of those ‘weird things’ that happens and then vanishes into the rumor mill. Ben did not need to get capped. What if he brought her down to the station instead what would have happened? Would they have feckin shot any officer involved? Like... your problem solving skills are NOT the best here secret lab. Choose the most normal route to not be noticed. But then maybe there have been a lot of cuts and they don’t have the sharpest staff anymore and ‘quick shot mcgee missus’ is the kind of slapstick crap they got now.... which explains why the place is falling apart at the seams with crazy shyte by this point. Hmmmmmmm.... 

Teacher BIGGEST nerd. Scott Clarke 

Mom took Will to see Poltergeist but not Johnathan. J just not a horror kind of person or is this a favoritism thing? Keep an eye out for this.

Johnathan deff has older sibling syndrome out the wazoo. Used to calming mom, probably forced to be mediator. Anxiety out the ass probably. She tries to bond with him in panic night of disappearance. He doesn’t know what to do with that. She falls apart really fast. He is deff used to managing her. Probably has de-escalation skills tantamount to a Negotiation Specialist due to his parents obvious rough road and then dealing with that in a small town and the rumor mill of it all. 

Mike see’s Steve climbing the side of his house and just goes on because wtf dude I got other shit to do. Very sibling blackmail collection habit.

Observation of Nancy and Steve interactions. Always seems like something disappears in Steve’s eyes when she calls him an idiot. She means it as an affectionate nickname, so he is playing it cool, but that look says he has to TRY to play it cool and not take it to heart. It has probably been used on him by those he cares about before, but meant to hurt unlike her. It does make him back off from what he is trying to do each time. A switch is flipped to Step Back mode.

[fernpost]

Cycle 3 - A Meal

[link to ao3]

[first] - [previous] - [next] 

“Do we not have it?” Lup’s voice, just on the edge of unadulterated panic, filters through the room. It is borderline sweltering, and they’ve been at it all day.

If they don’t have it, it’s all been for naught. Taako bites at his nail, racking his brain, “fuck, do we not?”

Lucretia is sitting across the room, writing down notes from the day before. Her hand stills as she looks up, “it’s missing?”

Lup wipes her brow, before snapping her fingers and dropping to her knees, opening a small cabinet. She digs frantically through what they have, “if it’s not here, there’s none. I’ve looked all over- we honestly should have had it sooner but there was so much to do and-”

Taako steps behind her, hands resting on his hips to feign casualness. Lup adjusts her position and curses as she hits her head. Taako is about to comment, when she gasps.

He is silent as she jolts backwards with a cry, hand held in the air in success, waving it in the air, “we have it!”

Taako pulls it from her grasp, making his way towards the stove. Lup follows close behind, “if we had used the rest of the garlic last week, I would have jumped ship in shame.”

“Can’t make Mama Davenport’s special meat stew without it. Who are we to surprise our great captain with subpar stew.” Taako peels it quickly, cutting it up and tossing it into the pot liberally, firm in his lifelong belief that no recipe can have too little of the perfect allium.

Lucretia smiles as she scribbles in both of her notebooks from the table, “and Taako couldn’t have transmuteted more because…?”

Handing the spoon to Lup, he turns with an affronted gasp, resting his hand dramatically against his chest, “Do you think me a subpar chef?” With a snort, he kneels to peek into the oven, checking the status of the bread they are baking, “but actually, transmuted food is never as good as the real stuff. You can always taste the difference. It’ll do in a pinch, but for the occasion the Taaco’s spare no expense.”

“Ah, of course.” She goes back to her writing, content in listening to the two of them cook more.

After a few more minutes of gentle stirring, Taako sends Lup to grab Barry from the lab, where he’s been pouring over the same notes for a few hours now. Magnus, Merle, and Cap’nport should be back within the next half hour, if the Sending note Taako received is to be believed.

Considering it’s from Merle, who's to say. But preserving the heat of a dish with magic is much easier than making a dish from scratch, so it won’t be the end of the world. Anyways, Taako will give Merle shit either way.

Taako hear’s Lup laugh as she approaches, so he knows she successfully managed to wrangle Barold away from his work. He is already tired of their strange almost-flirting rituals, but it’s nice to see Lup so excited about something, even if it is a nerd like Barry.

(Taako is steadfastly ignoring how much he enjoy’s Barry’s company himself. Or Magnus’s. Or Lucretia’s. Or how comforting it is to talk to Merle. Or how welcoming Davenport always is. It all means nothing. They’re all still his coworkers. He definitely never seeks out their company. He pretends not to think about how the last time he was around the same people this long was his aunt, and he pretends not to think about how that ended. And it never feels bad when they leave on dangerous missions to look for the Light. Never.)

“Lup, the bread!” Taako calls out, pulling the stew from the stove and bringing it over to the table. Lucretia picks her notebooks up, bringing them over to the small sitting room and leaving them on the rickety coffee table (it wasn’t always rickety. Magnus had been trying, apparently, to teach Barry a wrestling move Merle had described to him once. Mending only goes so far). Lup crosses the small kitchen quickly, grabbing the oven mitts from the counter and pulling the bread out. It smells absolutely divine, of course.

Barry hovers near the edge of the kitchen, hands hovering awkwardly in front of him, “can I help-”

“Not after last time, Bluejeans.” Taako places the lid on the stew, turning to the fridge to look for the cider bottles he knows are in there somewhere from a small market they found near the end of the last year.

“Can you grab the plates?” Lup asks as she removes the bread from the tin and begins cutting it. Barry is quick to help, pulling the plates down from the cabinet right next to her (he’s trying so hard to not brush against her, it’s almost sad). Once he has a stack of seven, he pulls out the utensils as well.

Lucretia stiffens from where she has made her way to the window in the sitting room, peering out. “They’re back!”

Barry glances over, almost overbalancing and dropping the silverware as he gets distracted. After he regains control of the plates, he asks, “how do they look?”

“No worse for wear. No one’s limping or missing anything important, at least.” She pauses, and squints, “I think Magnus is a little singed, though.”

“He’ll be fine.” Taako waves it off. The big guy not getting injured would be more surprising.

Lup is bringing the tray with the bread over when the front door opens. Taako places the last cider down before calling out, “oh Captain!”

“We have a surprise for you!” Lup yells.

“What do you-” Davenport pauses, and Taako has cooked enough for the gnome to know he is smelling the air. “Is that stew?” He rounds the corner with the others. He looks tired, thick bags hanging heavy under his eyes.

They were supposed to be gone a week for a recon mission, but Merle sent a message saying they’d be a few days later. About halfway through them being gone, Taako had started digging through the books Davenport brought. One was, for some reason, an old cookbook. It was covered in scribbled writing, and a note left at the beginning detailed how Davenport’s mother gifted it to him when he left for his first job on a ship. One recipe in particular had a sticky note marking it, and Taako had glanced through the recipe. It seemed easy enough, so he brought it to Lup to make.

If she had said anything about him being a sap, he’d deny it. He just enjoyed trying out a new recipe.

“Are we going to eat or just bask in the smell?” Taako sits at his normal seat, not waiting to begin to serve himself. He passes the ladle to Lup, watching as the others join them. Davenport remains standing, only moving when Magnus kicks his chair away from the table, gesturing for him to sit.

The ladle is passed to their captain, who scoops some of the stew and stares at it, “is this…” Davenport looks up at Lup and him, squinting, “did you two go through my cabin?”

An overlap of “no,'' and “Taako did,” answer his question, and Taako quickly slaps Lup on the arm. “Was just looking at your books. You expect me to not read a cookbook you’ve got hidden away?”

Davenport doesn’t answer. He scoops up some of the stew and sips at it, obviously hesitant. It’s quiet in the room, before he smiles, “almost as good as my mom made it.”

A cacophony of mockery aimed at Taako blusters out, his own voice just barely rising above as he defends his honor and abilities.

No one mentions how their captain looks a little misty-eyed. It’s been a long three years.

Later that night, Magnus approaches him and Lup as they play cards in the sitting room, vaguely describing a pie his dad used to make on Candlenights, asking if the two of them thought they could recreate it.

Taako is offended that he believes they can’t.

[omegasmileyface]

💵 for the ask game

💵: do you ever keep cash laying around the house and if so where?

omg!! ^w^ ok so for starters i keep 80k, cash, in the vault in the basement. the vault door is made of a new steel alloy theyve been working on in my father's lab. some weird extraterrestrial shit in there, i dont get it myself, so your usual methods arent gonna work. i personally havent found a more physical means to get in, so the first thing you're gonna do is find the code. it changes on a 1-hour interval, and is only accessible on the family computer, the password for which is on a sticky note on the back of the entertainment stand. here's the tricky part. that code is in no way designed for single-person use. the usual guards have walkie-talkies, and have one guy at the code and another to open the vault. because every time the computer is logged into? there's only a 5-minute window before the vault locks for the rest of the hour. you're not gonna have the luxury of multiple guys. that means you have to get in and out, fast. quickest way to the basement from the family room is through the laundry chute. the chute has 24/7 heat detectors. those can be disabled from the family computer, except you'll need the usb thats inside the detatchable head of the garden gnome out front. dont let anybody see you grabbing that. as for the family room, there are guards at all hours of the day. if you knock em out without letting them see you, nobody will notice in the time it'll take you to get in and out. and the basement? guard dogs. brutal things. no supervision but by god if they get to barking the cops'll be on your ass like sonic the hedgehog. thing is, theyre blind. perfect noses, great ears- in fact, those are the reasons they hired blind dogs in the first place. but that's their weakness. this is Nogo. it's a new material Lucy's been working on. wear this, you won't make a sound. as long as you never get wet. and for the smell, you're going to need to take a shower with baking soda no more than 30 minutes beforehand. after youve got the cash, youve gotta get past the dogs again, then it's quick out the back. Flick's got the getaway car on Baldwin behind the house. got it? good. suit up. we've only got one shot.

[mixelation]

Ginny SI

hmm this is the opening scene to a SI-into-Ginny Weasley fic i wrote a while ago. warning for.....blood? murder? The first line is basically all that happens LOL

--

My brother’s rat upset me, so I decided to kill it.

Percy said he found the rat in the garden and then begged and begged Mum to keep it. I saw the missing toe, and thought: No. No, this wouldn’t do.

Percy was my brother, after all. I didn’t want him being taken advantage of by a weird old man pretending to be a rat. The thought made my skin crawl, but I had to wait a few weeks for an opportunity to make a move. People weren’t apt to leave a little five year old girl alone for too long, after all.

Scabbers went with me willingly to the garden.

He let me play with him, lifting up his little left feet and making him dance. He let me bring him up to the hedges and let me pretend he was talking to the gnomes with my child’s voice. He laid perfectly still when I put him down next to me and didn’t even budge when I picked up the rusty pruning shears.

He didn’t start to struggle until the blades were already on either side of his neck.

As far as I could remember, the method of euthanization recommended by the International Animal Care and Use Committee for rats and mice was asphyxiation by carbon dioxide. In a lab they’d use a chamber that slowly filled with carbon dioxide and kept the rodent calm. I’d thought about sealing Scabbers in a box and suffocating him that way, but I’d never actually had to sacrifice any of the mice myself. I didn’t know how long that method would take and was afraid he’d turn back into a man.

I wasn’t old enough for shatter-proof spells yet, after all.

I did know they confirmed death of the mice by decapitation. All I had to do was line the pruning shears up right behind the head, snip the neck, and the head would pop right off. It was supposed to be easy.

It was supposed to be easy, but I hadn’t worked in a lab in five years. I’d forgotten to account for certain variables.

Scabber started to move, but I was faster. I squeezed the blades of the shears together as hard as I could with my five year old hands, one on each handle. A rat’s cervical muscles are thicker than a mouse’s and harder to cut through. Scabber’s head stayed on.

He flailed. The blades were already firmly in place, even as blood slipped out and made them slick, and he couldn’t escape. His little body beat itself against the grass and horrible squeaking screams came from his gaping mouth. I squeezed the handles harder.

I’d put him in a sunny patch because I knew he liked them. Blood on the blades of grass glistened in the sun.

I was starting to panic. I’d picked decapitation because I thought it would be quick and humane. Surely he’d bleed out soon.

He didn’t, so I decided I should do something to put him out of his misery. My grip loosened on the pruning shears, and somehow he slipped free and flopped across the garden.

“Shit!” I cried softly and raced after him. He wasn’t moving very fast, so I caught up quickly.

I stomped on his head. There was a wet sort of crunch under my shoe, and then Scabbers went still.

I was glad he had not turned back into a man. I couldn’t kill a man, but I could kill a rat. Looking down at the rat’s splattered head and still form, I felt only mildly upset.

I’d not sealed him in a box because I’d been afraid he could escape easily by shapeshifting. Now that I’d tried and failed to cut off his head, I wasn’t sure why he hadn’t changed back then. Was it harder when one was in a state of emotional distress? Could one not change while severely injured? Had he just lived as a rat so long it hadn’t occurred to him in his panic?

I didn’t like thinking of Scabbers as Peter Pettigrew. Instead, I turned my thoughts to how I was going to clean this all up. There was a sizable pool of blood splashed all over the grass, and then a trail of splots for six or seven feet, and then the rat with the smashed head.

There was a water pump in one corner of the yard. I used it to rinse my hands off first and then filled a bucket.

Before I splashed water everywhere, I decided to throw Scabber’s body to the gnomes. They killed field mice and chipmunks all the time; it wouldn’t be strange for them to go after an old, lazy rat too.

I gingerly picked Scabbers up by the base of his tail, which was exactly the moment someone decided to barge out of the back door.

“GINNY!” Charlie shrieked before the door had even swung back enough to slam shut.

I froze, a headless Scabbers dangling incriminatingly from my hand. Blood dripped onto the toe of my shoe.

“Um,” I said.

“I accidentally suffocated him as part of a game” would have really been a lot easier to explain. I had no explanation for this.

[lilblog-asatreat]

#5 from this prompt list: "Let me bandage you up."

"Fucking hell!" Lup shouts to the heavens.

"I told you there was a ditch nearby," Merle says blandly.

"This isn't a ditch, Merle. This is a giant fucking crevice in the earth that just broke my fucking leg!"

Needless to say, Lup and Merle's forest expedition wasn't exactly going to plan. Their entire team split off into pairs to explore in search for the Light, (with the exception of Taako who wanted to stay behind on the ship), and so far Lup and Merle had to swim through a raging flooded river, fight off two chimeras, break their way through a giant "haunted" bramble patch which turned out to be hiding a small community of very hostile gnomes, and get so hopelessly turned around and lost that their hope of ever finding their way back to the Starblaster was getting slimmer and slimmer.

Their latest misadventure involved Merle scouting slightly ahead, warning her of a well hidden "ditch", and failing to mention it was actually a drop off to an eight foot deep hole, which tripped her and made her land with her full weight on her right leg while it was bent at a weird angle.

"Alright, I'm coming down, just give me a moment." Merle readjusts his backpack and starts carefully picking his way down the side. When he finally makes it to Lup's side, she's leaning up against the wall with her head pressed back against it, eyes squinted shut in pain. Merle takes out his holy symbol and mutters a prayer while moving it slowly over her leg.

Nothing happens.

"Shit!" Merle grumbles.

Lup opens up one eye to look at him and grimaces. "You don't have anymore-"

"Spell slots, no I don't."

"Oooffff fucking course." She closes her eye again and focuses on breathing.

Merle takes off his backpack and rummages around in it. "Luckily I brought more medical supplies than just me and my holy powers. Do you see any good sized branches near us?"

Lup opens her eyes again to look around. "There might be some branches over there." She points to the opposite side of the hole where the branches of a fallen tree lay against a slightly gentler slope back upward and out of the pit.

Merle takes a roll of bandages out and sets it on top of his bag before pulling out Lil Choppy and setting to work on getting branches that are viable for setting her broken leg.

After a few minutes of silence, save for the hacking of the hand ax, Lup asks, "So uh, do you think the others were able to find the Light?"

Merle takes a beat to wipe some sweat from his forehead. "Maybe. At the very least, they're probably having more luck than we are just trying to get around this place."

Lup gives a pained laugh as Merle goes back to hacking at branches. When he's gotten a few he's satisfied will get the job done, he moves back over to Lup and sets them down beside her leg. "Now, let me bandage you up."

Lup cries out in pain as Merle moves her leg in position and begins wrapping the bandages around it and the branches supporting it. He mumbles an apology but keeps going. After he's finished, he scoots up against the wall next to his friend and sighs. "So uh... how are we going to get out of this one?"

"I don't know," Lup sighs. "I can cast a spell that could levitate me, and you'd be able to pull me around without having to worry about putting weight on my leg, but uh that only lasts for ten minutes, and we still don't know where the Starblaster is. Not to mention, I... don't know if I have spell slots to cast that right now, now that I think about it."

They're both quiet for a beat. Then Merle laughs a little. "Well, at least if we die out here, we'll come back next year, right?"

Lup bites her lip. "Mmhmm?"

Merle looks over at her and quirks an eyebrow. "You don't sound very convinced."

"Well," Lup begins slowly, "yes, we will come back... at least, I'm 85% sure we'll come back..." She trails off and looks at him sheepishly.

Merle stares at her. "You're only 85% sure? You and Barry spent an entire year testing this theory! You told us we'd be alright!"

"There's always room for error in science and arcane studies, and we always have to take that into account. But 85% is a solid B, so we're pretty sure we'll all be fine. Sure enough to reassure everyone else at least." Lup explains defensively.

"What about the other 15%?" Merle asks incredulously. "That's a huge percentage of uncertainty!"

"Try not to think about it," Lup waves him off.

"Try not to-"

"Look, we'd be more sure if we actually had a chance to really test it, but it's only been four years, and so far the only time someone's actually died was Magnus back in year one. The fact that you and Magnus go back to having the same injuries as the ones you had when we first left is key evidence to support our theory that we just go back to our recorded state, but until someone else dies and comes back to life, there's only so many experiments we can do to try and replicate the real deal."

"So now the scientist has become the lab rat and dragged me along with you." Merle crosses his arms.

"Arcanist, for one," Lup says hotly, "I'm not that big of a nerd, and for two, technically Davenport dragged you into this because he's the one who paired you with me. And I'm so sorry that being paired with me was such a disastrous choice for you."

"That's not what I meant," Merle says, but Lup crosses her arms and looks away from him.

He sighs and digs through his bag again. It takes a minute, but he finally pulls out his prize, a little baggie of baby carrots that he swiped from the kitchen before they left. He crunches on one before silently offering Lup another one. She looks over for a second and rolls her eyes in annoyance but accepts the offering anyway.

"There's got to be a way out of this situation," Merle says after a while of chewing on carrots. "Maybe I can go back to the gnome village and see if I can get a healing potion or at least a way of contacting the ship."

Lup snorts. "They'll just run you out of town again. I don't know if you remember, but they weren't keen on listening to us last time, and I doubt they'd be too impressed with us now that we've accidentally burned down a few of their buildings."

"Not our fault they kept attacking us," Merle shrugs. "But I'm sure I can sneak past the guards, find their apothecary, and steal whatever we need to get you on your feet again."

Lup laughs. "In that armor? Merle, you are the single loudest dwarf I have ever met!"

Merle chuckles despite being mildly annoyed. "I mean, do you have any other ideas?"

Lup's smile fades a little. "I mean... I could send up a flare and hope Taako sees it? Prestidigitation is a cantrip, so I can just keep burning that until someone finds us."

"If they ever find us."

Lup grabs another carrot and chews on it contemplativly. "You know, I woke up today ready to take on anything and find the Light, but now all I want to do is be with my brother and complain to him how shitty our day has been while he makes me tea and jokes about it to make me feel better. It's... been a while since we've done that. We spend so much time researching and working and being too exhausted to do little more than sleep that we haven't just sat down to hang out and complain about just how shitty this all is."

"Well, I'm not Taako," Merle begins carefully, "but I'm still your friend, and I'm still here for you. You can complain to me all you want, and right now I can't offer you tea, but I do have some jerky once we run out of baby carrots."

Lup looks over at him and smiles. "Thanks, Merle," she says quietly.

Merle nods, and the two of them spend the rest of the late afternoon talking about the past four years and how much they miss home. When night begins to fall, Lup starts shooting sparks into the air, and the contrast of the bright colors against the darkening sky does catch the attention of one extremely worried elf. He sighs in relief and directs his captain to sail the ship westward toward the colors of hope.

[a-solitary-marshmallow]

Rewind Chapter 11 - Epilogue

“Will I remember any of this?”

Ford paused, hands stilling on his workbench as he considered the question. “…I don’t know.”

Stan swung his legs idly from where he was perched on another table in Ford’s lab, watching the nerd fiddle with his vials. One of them had a glimmering rainbow liquid in it that kinda looked like unicorn blood. “You said when I was an adult we were fighting. Do you think we’re just gonna keep fighting?”

“We’ll always be fighting a little bit.” Ford hedged.

“No, I mean real fighting. Not just arguments and stuff.”

“Then… no, not if I have any say in it.”

:readmore:

“Good.” Stan folded his arms. “Adult me kinda sounds like a jerk, so you gotta tell him I said to be nice. And you’ve been kind of a jerk too, so you also have to be nice.”

“I doubt a grown-up you will follow the instructions of a baby.”

“Hey! I’m not a baby!” Stan found a crumpled piece of paper nearby and lobbed it at Ford’s head. He missed, but it was the thought that counted. Ford let out a huff.

“Don’t throw things when I’m working with chemicals, Stanley. Unless you want me to spill it on myself and also turn into a baby. Then who would cure you?”

“Not a baby!”

Stan didn’t throw anything else, though. Only because there was nothing nearby to throw.

“I honestly don’t know how much you’ll remember.” Ford admitted after a while, twirling a test tube to mix its contents. It looked pretty boring for what was basically a magic potion, just clear and grey. It wasn’t even bubbling. “You might completely forget everything that happened when you were de-aged. In which case, I don’t know how I’ll explain everything.”

“Just start with the story of how I defeated an evil dream demon. It’s the coolest part.”

“It’s the most exciting part of the story,” Ford allowed, “But not the best place to start.”

“It’s the hook! That’s the best part of a story, you know.”

Ford lifted the boring test tube up to inspect it in the light. When Stan looked closer, it didn’t seem as clear – as he watched it was slowly getting cloudier, more silver than grey. He vaguely remembered something about that from science class – did that mean there was a chemical reaction? Or a physical reaction? He could never remember the difference between them.

Ford stared pensively at the vial, and after a few moments Stan cleared his throat. “Is that it?”

“Yes.” Ford started to turn to him and then hesitated again. “You just have to drink this to go back to your real age. I… hm. Are you ready? Do you want to have something to eat first? Or maybe go to bed and have it in the morning?”

Stan blinked. “It’s gonna make me older again, right? Why wait?”

“Well, I don’t know.” When Stan made grabby hands Ford relented and handed over the vial. It was cold to the touch, like it had just come from the fridge. Stan stared at the thick, silvery liquid and wondered what it would taste like. “When you touched water from the spring of youth you passed out for several hours. The same thing could happen now, so we should move you somewhere comfortable before you drink-”

Stan tipped the vial and swallowed its contents in one big gulp. Ford shrieked.

“Stanley! Why would you do that?”

It tasted kinda like dirty, metallic oranges and Stan screwed up his face. “Ew! Couldn’t you at least make it taste nice?”

Ford retorted something, but the sounds were a bit wobbly in his ears. Stan blinked hard to try and make his vision make sense. It was just a little bit off, fuzzy in the corners of his vision.

“…getting dizzy?” Ford’s voice swam through the air, thick and swampy, like Stan was breathing treacle. “…lie down…”

And then, quick as blinking, he was on the floor. That was rude, for the world to just flip over like that. Everything was clouds and Stan was very, very sleepy.

Something else was said, but he was too far away to hear it.

 _______________________________________________________________

When consciousness came – and it did come, as much as Stan wished he could sleep forever, dragging him up from the depths of hazy dreams he couldn’t remember – he knew exactly where he was.

There were soft sheets against his back, the faint whistle of wind through the pines outside, the taste of copper on his tongue. The spare bed felt smaller, now, and when his head shifted his stubbly cheek scratched against the pillow. It smelled faintly like dust.

“Stan? Are you waking up?”

Okay, that was Ford’s voice. But, there was still the possibility that this had all been a weird, vivid dream! That’s right, everything from the last couple days had been a dream. There were no gnomes, no dream demons, and in a moment Stan would open his eyes and be back inside the Stanleymobile.

He cracked his eyes open, blinking at the assault of light, and saw his brother’s face looking back at him.

…shit.

“Stan? Are you alright?” Ford was tapping his cheek, looking for a reaction. Stan grumbled and brushed him away.

“I’m fine. Hands off the merchandise.” His voice was rough with sleep, and Stan was almost surprised by how deep and gravelly it was compared to the childish squeaking he’d been doing lately.

Ford made a face, somewhere between worried and amused – an expression that Stan was familiar with from the last couple days. Dammit. He just had to remember all that. Ugh, and now Ford would want to talk and get all mushy.

“I’m fine.” Stan repeated, with nothing else to say. He got up on his elbows, and a quick glance around the room confirmed they were in the spare room he’d been sleeping in the last couple days. Still, he asked. “Where are we?”

“How much do you remember?” Ford asked urgently, making Stan blink. “Since you arrived here, I mean.”

“Uh… nothing.” He lied, like a liar. Ford’s face fell.

“…oh.”

Yeah, there was no way he could tell the truth here. He would die of embarrassment if he had to admit he remembered acting like a child and being all…sappy. Ford would look at him all weird and they would have to talk and that was just… ugh.

“Yep! I just remember getting here and then – poof! Nothing.” Stan went for a carefree laugh. “Man, did I get hit on the head with a coconut or something?”

Ford lowered himself onto the edge of the bed, looking crestfallen. “No, not quite. Do you – remember the argument we had?”

Nope, nope, feelings alert. Stan did not want to delve into that conversation.

“What argument? Probably about you being a nerd, huh? Jeez, am I hungry, you got any food in this joint?”

“Wha-”

Stan was already throwing the covers off (thank god he was wearing a nightrobe underneath, he didn’t think his pride could survive another hit). Ford spluttered as he got to his feet.

“Will you slow down?”

 ______________________________________________________________

After a couple tests which were obviously unnecessary (but Ford insist on anyway, the nerd) Stan was finally free to pull on some actual clothes and follow Ford to the kitchen. He hadn’t been lying earlier, hunger really was gnawing in his stomach, and he made a beeline for the fridge.

“-and so you were reverted back into a child,” Ford continued. The guy had absolutely no showmanship. Way to lose an audience, Stan muttered to himself as he grabbed the fridge door. He’d told him to start with the demon bit, but noooo. “That was a couple days ago. There have been some – well, it’s been eventful. I doubt you’ll believe me if I told you.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“By the way, my friend is on his way.” Ford added. Stan ducked down to inspect the fridge’s contents – at least it was better stocked than when he first arrived. He hummed in acknowledgement. “You – well, I suppose you won’t remember him. You’ll like him though. You did.”

“Is he a nerd liked you?”

Ford snorted.

Stan grabbed a box of leftover pasta and then went in search of a fork. “Well, let’s hope this Fiddleford guy can tell stories better than you, ya almost put me to sleep with the way you tell it.”

When he turned around, Ford was staring at him.

It took a moment for him to realize his mistake – by the time Stan opened his mouth to spew out some bullshit excuse, Ford was pointing an accusing finger at him.

“I didn’t tell you his name!”

“Yes you did!” Stan spluttered. “I mean, how else would I know his name unless you told me, huh? You ever think about that?”

Ford narrowed his eyes. “Stanley.”

“Stanford.” He parroted right back. The staring match continued for a few moments before Ford threw up his hands.

“Unbelievable! You’re such a liar.”

Stan took a large bite of pasta. Because he was hungry, not because he didn’t want to answer. Ford glared at him.

“I should have known you’d try to wriggle your way out of this. ‘I don’t remember’ my ass. What, were you just going to leave and pretend none of this ever happened?”

Stan shoveled more pasta into his mouth.

“Don’t think you can avoid talking with me. We are having this conversation whether you like it or not.”

‘No, we’re really not’ is what Stan meant to say. Unfortunately, the moment he took a breath to speak he started choking. Ford scowled and thumped him on the back as he coughed, getting bits of pasta all over the kitchen floor.

“Unbelievable.” The nerd said again.

 Well, so much for that.

  _______________________________________________________________

Stan squirmed under his brother’s glare – the whole ‘pacing and towering over him while Stan sat on the couch like a scolded child’ schtick was uncannily similar to what their mother would do when they earned her ire.

“So.” Ford began. “You remember childhood.”

“Yep.” Stan grumbled.

“Your adult life?”

“Mm hm.”

“The last couple days here and everything that occurred while you were reverted?”

“Mm.”

Ford stopped his pacing to turn to him. “Then why on earth did you try to pretend you didn’t? We even made up!”

Stan buried his face in his hands to try and hide its burning. “I don’t know! I knew you’d try and get all…” He shuddered. “Mushy. Feeling-y.”

Stan could just feel the flat look his brother was giving him.

“Okay, fine, look. You forgave me for breaking your project, I forgave you for being a jerk. We’re good. Now, I’m just gonna head home-”

“You’re homeless.”

“You don’t know that!” Stan looked up from behind his hands to see Ford folding his arms. “I could have a, a house, a mansion even!”

“You have a mullet.”

…okay, Ford had him there. Stan scowled. “What’s the plan then, smart guy?”

Ford’s eyes gleamed, and he immediately regretted asking.

“I’m glad you asked, Stanley! I’ve had plenty of time to think over these last couple days. First of all, the Duskertons are looking for someone to help around their store, and no one in Gravity Falls cares much about credentials – I’m pretty sure the man who works at the post office is just a bunch of gnomes in a trench coat ­– so your lack if identification shouldn’t be a problem if you’re looking for a job. There’s also Boyish Dan, his family owns a logging company and I’m sure you could get a place there if you wanted. You’re welcome to stay in my house for as long as you need – I’m sure there are some places in town if you want to rent instead, though. If you choose to stay I might ask for your help in some of my research, since Fiddleford has decided to take a break from studying Gravity Falls, which I don’t blame him for.”

Stan blinked, but Ford wasn’t finished, ticking things off on his fingers as he went.

“I’ll also need to keep you under observation for a while to ensure that there are no side effects from the fountain of youth water, so I’ll ask you to stay around for at least a couple days. If you decide to leave Gravity Falls after that period, you’ll need to give me your phone number so we can keep contact. Oh, scratch that, I’ll make a new one – I’m sure I can work up a design that isn’t as flimsy as the current models going around.”

“Uh-”

Stan was saved from having to answer (answer? There wasn’t much of a question but Ford was looking at him expectantly and he didn’t know what he was supposed to say) by a light knock on the door. Ford perked up and rushed to answer it.

“Am I intruding?” Fiddleford’s hesitant voice rang out. Ford shook his head and stood aside to usher the smaller man inside.

“Not at all, come in. It’s good to see you.”

Fiddleford stopped in his tracks when he laid eyes on Stan on the couch.

Ugh, he was already getting a headache. Now came the judgement. Stan looked like a mess, he knew he did – unshaven, with bags under his bloodshot eyes and ragged hair and old scars crisscrossing his arms. Some small, childish part of him wanted to jump up and hug the guy. Gross. Instead he shoved down the nervousness, stood, and gave him a lazy two-fingered salute.

“…Stanley?” Fiddleford tilted his head, eyes scanning him. Stanley shrugged uncomfortably. It was weird, towering over the small guy like this.

“Hey.”

“Well, you grew up big. The spittin’ image of yer brother.” Fiddleford gave a little smile and stuck out his hand. “Pleasure meetin’ ya, officially this time.”

“Eh, you too.” Stan shook the offered hand. It was small, frail, but gripped his firmly.

“So are you stickin’ around?”

Stan hesitated. He glanced from Fiddleford’s earnest face, to his own rough hand, to Ford’s careful expression – the look of someone trying hard not to look like they were listening.

“…yeah. Yeah, I think I’m gonna stick around.”

[thelastspeecher]

Curing a Curse?

Here it is, the third part in my ongoing Nixie Scenario that has honestly turned into its own separate AU at this point.  And in keeping in line with the cliffhanger that the first part ended on, this one ends on one as well.  Anyways, enjoy.

(By the way, here’s the first part, and here’s the second part.)

——————————————————————————————

              “I’d like to see the actual process of your transformation,” Ford said.  Angie groaned loudly, kneading her forehead.  After spending two days hiding in the lake, she had shown up at the house out of the blue to answer questions from the nerds.  Only five questions in, Stan could tell she was regretting leaving the lake.

              Can’t blame her. Ford’s gone full scientist mode and Fiddlenerd’s even more overprotective than when he found out I was seeing Angie.  

              “Look,” Angie sighed, “I learned the hard way not to be in frog form with clothes on.  The slime ain’t easy to clean off.”

              “Slime?” Fiddleford squeaked.

              “Have you ever held a frog in your life?” Stan asked. “They’re slimy.”  Fiddlenerd frowned at him, but before he could scold Stan for being a smartass, Angie spoke again.

              “I transform while nude to avoid destroyin’ my clothes.  Bein’ unclothed in front of folks while I’m in frog form ain’t a problem, but I won’t let ya see me naked and human, Stanford.”

              “It’s purely for scientific-” Ford tried. Angie glared at him.

              “No.”

              “Fine,” Ford muttered.  Angie got up from her chair.

              “I’ll go transform ‘n come back.”  She left the living room.

              “This is thrilling,” Ford said excitedly. “Finally, a chance to see a nixie up close!  Granted, she’s not a full-blooded nixie, but morphologically, there should be few differences.  Well, other than the fact that she can switch between nixie and human forms.”

              “What do you mean by ‘full-blooded nixie’?” Stan asked.

              “Angie was born human, only turned into a nixie upon exposure to nixie venom, and can switch between two different forms.  A full-blooded nixie would have been born one and stuck in that form.”  He paused. “I wonder if certain people are more likely to become a nixie when exposed to nixie venom.”  Ford looked at Fiddlenerd.  “Fiddleford, do you know if there are any fae in your family tree?”

              “I don’t know of any, but I wouldn’t be surprised,” Fiddlenerd said after a moment.  “We were told ‘bout the fair folk from a pretty young age.  And in Ireland, where my Pa’s fam’ly came from, the fair folk do tend to interact with mortals.”

              “Interesting,” Ford said quietly.  He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.  “If fae blood runs in your veins, that could explain why Angie transformed into a nixie with a kiss, but Stan didn’t.”

              “I think the more likely reason is that, like ya said, she ain’t a full-blooded nixie,” Fiddlenerd said.  “Maybe she has less potent venom or even less venom overall.”

              “Good point.  Once I’ve collected some venom to study, I can determine whether that is the case,” Ford said.  Slapping footsteps, like someone wearing flipflops too large for their feet, sounded. Angie came back into living room, in her full nixie form.

              “What’s this about venom?” she asked.  Like it always did when she was in nixie form, her voice had changed, becoming cooler and more melodic, as well as losing her thick southern accent.

              “I’m going to collect some from you.  If you don’t mind,” Ford said, getting up from his chair.  Angie shrugged.

              “Sure.  That would be the easiest way to come up with an antivenin for the next time I kiss Stan.”

              “Yes, but I feel that finding a cure for your situation will go much faster if I can study your venom,” Ford said.  An uncomfortable look settled on Angie’s face.

              “Uh.  Sure.”

              “I’ll go get a jar to collect your venom in,” Ford said eagerly.  He rushed out of the room.  Fiddlenerd got up and walked over to Angie, looking her up and down.

              “This is the first time I’m properly seein’ ya like this,” he said idly.  He smiled. “Hopefully, it ain’t the first of many. I suspect that Stanford will be able to cure ya pretty easily.”  Angie’s uncomfortable look worsened.  She looked down at her elongated, webbed feet.

              “Yeah,” she mumbled.

              “I’m surprised by how tall ya are,” Fiddlenerd continued, apparently not noticing Angie’s discomfort.  Angie grinned, quickly wiping away her tense body language.

              “It’s the frog legs,” she said.  Fiddlenerd chuckled.  Ford ran into the room, carrying a glass jar.  He handed it to Angie.  Angie looked at him, confused.  “Do you want me to spit in this or something?”

              “Yes.  Technically, you should secrete your venom from your skin as well as your salivary glands, but that only happens when you’re under stress.  So a saliva specimen would be best.”

              “Do you really think I’m not stressed right now?” Angie mumbled.  Ford’s eyes widened.

              “Do you think you might be secreting venom from your skin at the moment?” he asked.  Angie held the jar next to her shoulder.  Ooze slowly seeped into the jar.  Ford’s eyes widened even further.  “Remarkable.  Would you mind spitting into this one, so that I can compare the two samples?” Ford held out another jar.  Angie rolled her eyes, but spat into it.  “Thank you.”

              “Yeah.”  Angie handed him the jar with her skin venom in it.  “By the way, I had an idea.  Now that you all know my secret, I was hoping that I could move again.”

              “What do ya mean?” Fiddlenerd asked.

              “I don’t really like living in a human house. I mean, I have to keep leaving it to go to the lake.  So, I want to live in the lake full time.”

              “Wh- Angie-” Fiddlenerd started.  Angie held up one of her large, webbed hands.

              “Let me finish.  I’d like to live there, but keep my human stuff here, since I’ve got a lot of things that I want to hold onto.”

              “I’m fine with that,” Stan said, shrugging. Fiddlenerd nodded.  “Ford, it’s your place.”

              “Hmm?”  Ford looked up from the jar of ooze, which he had been staring at intently.  “Oh, yes, feel free to store your belongings here until you are cured.”  Angie abruptly became uncomfortable again, shifting her feet anxiously, her eyes darting around.

              “Sounds- sounds good,” she mumbled.  She cleared her throat.  “Stanford, did you want to sketch me?”

              “Oh, yes, that would be excellent!” Ford enthused. He handed the jar of slime and jar of spit to Stan.  “Come outside, please, the lighting will be better.”  Angie followed Ford out of the house to the backyard.  Stan set down the jars.  He looked at Fiddlenerd.

              “Angie seemed a bit nervous,” he commented. Fiddlenerd shrugged.

              “Given Stanford is lookin’ at her the same way he looks at them gnomes, I don’t blame her.”  He got up from his seat.  “Now, if ya don’t mind, I’ve got an idea fer a way Angie can stay here instead of in a dirty lake.  I’m goin’ to work on some blueprints.”  He left.

              Maybe he’s right.  Maybe Angie just seemed upset ‘cause Ford was looking at her like that.  Stan sighed. Who knew falling for a frog-lady would cause so many problems?

-----

              Stan sped all the way to the lake, praying that he had properly secured the babies in the back seat.

              Maybe Fiddlenerd was right.  Maybe Angie should start staying at the house and sleep in that tank he made for her.  Having her close when the lab exploded woulda been nice.  The Stanleymobile peeled into the lake parking lot.  Stan parked it right next to the water.  Thankfully, the unseasonably cold day had scared people away; the lake was deserted.  Stan slammed the car door open.

              “Angie!” he shouted before even taking a step out of the car.  There was a splash.  In nixie form, Angie’s head popped up by the pier.

              “Stan?” she called.

              “Get your gorgeous ass over here!”  Angie blinked in surprise, then disappeared back underwater.  After a few moments, she resurfaced in shallower water and walked ashore.

              “Next time, a ‘please’ would be nice,” she scolded, coming over to the Stanleymobile.  “Now, what’s…”  Her gaze landed on the babies in the back seat of the Stanleymobile.  “Oh, Lord.”  She kneaded her forehead with her webbed hands.  “Stanley.  Please tell me that you didn’t steal these children.”

              “No.  They’re our brothers,” Stan said.  Angie stared at him.

              “Pardon?”

              “There was some sort of explosion in the lab.  I went to check it out just in case it was some spookum again.”  Stan gestured hopelessly at the babies.  “I found them like this.”

              “How did this happen?” Angie whispered.

              “Hell if I know.  I tried to look at their notes, but I don’t speak science.  I also know jack shit about taking care of babies.”

              “Luckily, I know plenty.”

              “Wanna grab your clothes and we can head to the house?” Stan suggested.  Angie sighed.

              “Just give me your shirt for now.  My clothes can wait.”

              “Got it.”  Stan pulled his T-shirt over his head, obscuring his vision.  By the time he could see again, Angie was fully human and nude.  He handed the shirt over.  Angie slipped it on.  “Good thing you’re so tiny.  You look like you’re wearing a dress.”

              “Shut up,” Angie muttered.  She got into the back seat with the babies.  “Aw.  They’re cute.”  As if on cue, one of the babies started to cry.  Angie grimaced.  “Never mind.”

-----

              “Shh, shh, Little Sixer,” Stan whispered desperately, gently rocking the infant Ford.  After getting to the house, Angie had taken charge immediately, instructing Stan how to take care of the babies.  Only once they were both sleeping in makeshift cribs in the living room did she finally go into the lab to figure out what the nerds were doing. Unfortunately, Ford had started to fuss. Stan continued to rock Ford, praying that Fiddlenerd wouldn’t wake up, too.

              “Aw.”  Stan looked up.  At some point, Angie had come up from the basement.  She smiled.  “The two of ya are quite adorable right now.”

              “Yeah, yeah,” Stan said, rolling his eyes.  “Did you find the nerds’ notes?”  Angie’s smile vanished.

              “Yes, I did.  They should revert back to their proper ages before the day is over.”

              “That’s great!”  Stan frowned.  “Why do you seem so bummed about it?”

              “They were studyin’ my venom.  They turned into babies ‘cause they were lookin’ to cure me of my frogginess.”

              “Don’t feel guilty about it, Ang.  This isn’t the worst thing they’ve been turned into. It’s not even in the top five.”

              “Yes, but…”  Angie walked over to the “crib” that Fiddlenerd was sleeping in.  She sighed.  “I don’t think I want a cure.”

              “I know.”  Angie’s head whipped up to stare at Stan.  “The second Ford and Fiddlenerd starte talking about curing you, you get nervous.”  Stan shrugged.  “I don’t really get the appeal of being a frog.  But if you like it, then don’t get cured.”

              “Fidds won’t be happy,” Angie said quietly.

              “So?  You’re the one who wants to stay a frog, not him.  His opinion doesn’t matter.”

              “I guess…”  Angie sighed again.  “I really do like bein’ a nixie.  It didn’t start out that great, but I’ve come to love it.  I feel so free and in tune with the world around me.”

              “Also, you have venom,” Stan pointed out.  Angie managed a small smile.

              “Yes.  I have venom.”  She looked down at Fiddlenerd.  “If I was always stuck in frog form, maybe I’d want a cure.  But I can turn human, too.”

              “You don’t have to explain yourself to me. It’s your life.”

              “Well, you are my boyfriend and get drunk every time I kiss ya in frog form.”

              “Cheaper than beer,” Stan said.  Angie snorted.  Ford squirmed in Stan’s arms, fussing again.  “Dammit, can’t you just sleep?”

              “Have you ever watched a real infant?” Angie asked.

              “You already know the answer is ‘no’.”  Ford’s squirming increased.  “Do you want me to drop you?  Stop wiggling around like one of Angie’s snacks!”  A faint glow began to emit from Ford.  “Uh.”  Then, in a split second, Ford was back to his proper age, still in Stan’s arms.  Ford looked up at Stan in confusion.

              “Stanley?”

              “Uh…”  Stan looked at Angie for help.  She shrugged.

              “I told ya the effects would wear off by the end of the day.  I’m goin’ to find myself some proper clothes so’s my brother don’t have an aneurysm when he’s back to normal.”  She glanced over at Fiddlenerd’s “crib”.  “Speakin’ of my brother, ya might want to let him out.  Sooner rather than later.”

-----

              Sitting on the couch in the living room, Stan idly paged through one of Angie’s guidebooks on amphibians.  Normally, he wouldn’t be interested in something so science-heavy, but he was missing Angie.  He hadn’t seen her for about a week.

              And I don’t know why.  Stan frowned at the page the book was open to, an entry on some kind of toad.  She told the nerds she wanted to stay a frog ages ago, and even after that blowup, she didn’t go AWOL.  He sighed. At least this book’s got pictures.

              “Stanley?”  Stan looked up.

              “What is it, Ford?” he asked.  Ford stood in front of him, his hands clasped behind his back.

              “Do you still kiss Angie when she’s in nixie form?” Ford asked.

              “Uh, yeah.  Why?”

              “I’d suspected as such,” Ford sighed.  He sat next to Stan.  “You do realize how dangerous it is, right?”

              “Look, at first, yeah, it got me drunk or high or both.  But not anymore.”  Ford stared at him.  “Angie’s theory is that I’m building up an immunity. She said that sometimes if you expose yourself to a poison, it stops affecting you.”

              “You haven’t been feeling the effects of Angie’s nixie kisses as strongly?” Ford asked.

              “Nope.”

              “That makes me more worried, not less!” Ford burst out.  He pinched the bridge of his nose.  “There’s very little likelihood mithridatism applies to nixie venom.”

              “Mith-what?”

              “The process of gradually exposing yourself to a poison to become immune is referred to as mithridatism.”

              “Huh.  Weird.” Stan shrugged.  “Maybe you’re just wrong.”

              “The term is-”

              “Not about what it’s called.  Maybe you’re wrong about whether I can build up an immunity to Angie’s kisses.”

              “I highly doubt that,” Ford said firmly.  “Haven’t you noticed your skin becoming more sensitive lately?  Your voice changing?”

              “It’s allergy season.”

              “You’ve never had seasonal allergies!”

              “So?  Just ‘cause I’ve never had them before doesn’t mean I can’t get them later.”

              “Stanley, I’m concerned that you don’t realize the gravity of the situation.  You could be transforming into a creature like Angie!”

              “Stanford.”  Stan closed the amphibian book.  “It’s my life.  My decisions. Is it stupid to kiss a nixie? Maybe.  But that’s my stupid choice to make.  Not yours.”

              “If you go down this path, you might become a nixie yourself.  Is that what you want?”

              “I dunno.  It can’t be that bad.  I mean, Angie likes it enough to turn down a cure.”

              “I don’t think she actually does like it,” Ford said quietly.  Stan frowned at him.

              “What the hell does that mean?”

              “Think about it.  She was turned into a magical creature without her consent.  Yes, there are some characteristics of nixies that would be enjoyable, but it’s permanently changed her life trajectory.  I suspect that Angie has fooled herself into thinking she’s fine with her situation as a coping mechanism.”

              “Ford…” Stan started.  Ford became more agitated, gesticulating wildly.

              “Why would anyone choose to be- to be-”

              “A freak?” Stan asked quietly.  Ford froze.  “A weirdo?  Abnormal?”

              “I…”

              “That’s what this is about, isn’t it?  It’s about your own hang-ups with your extra fingers. Stanford, what happened when we were kids sucked.  But this is completely different.  For one thing, she’s a grown adult.  She can make her own decisions, just like me.  And like my dumb decisions, you need to respect her smart ones.  Got it?”

              “I just…”  Ford sighed.  “Fiddleford speaks very highly of her and her potential.  I don’t want it to go to waste.”

              “She’s helping you with your research.  How is that letting her potential go to waste, huh?” Stan asked, elbowing Ford.  Ford managed a small smile.  “By the way, even Fiddleford accepted that Angie wants to stay a frog.  If he can, you can.”  Ford raised an eyebrow.  “You didn’t know that he’s fine with it?”

              “No, I knew.  I’ve just never heard you say his name correctly.”

              “Eh.  He’s my girlfriend’s brother.  I should probably start using his real name.”

              “Hmm.”  Ford eyed Stan thoughtfully.  “Girlfriend for now, but something more serious later?  Potentially soon?”  Before Stan could come up with a response to Ford’s prying, the front door opened. Fiddleford stomped inside, slamming the door behind him.  “I’m assuming that your search in the woods was unsuccessful.”

              “Yer right,” Fiddleford choked out.  “I’ve looked everywhere!  She’s- she’s gone!”  He tugged on his hair.  “It’s been a week!  A full week since any of us have seen Angie.  How can somethin’ bad not have happened to her?”

              “Nixies are notoriously slippery,” Ford said in a soothing tone.  “Angie has immense strength and venom on her side.  I’m sure she just needed some time to herself again.”

              “But she didn’t warn us ‘fore goin’ radio silent!” Fiddleford argued.  “She’s-” There was a timid knock at the door. Everyone froze.

              “Hello?” Angie’s voice said nervously.  Fiddleford sprinted to the door and tore it open, revealing Angie on the doorstep.  “H-howdy,” she stammered.

              “Banjolina Quinn McGucket, where have ya been?!” Fiddleford demanded.  Angie drew back.  “Sorry. Sorry, my tone was a bit harsh.” Fiddleford took a deep breath. “Banjey, we’ve been worried sick about ya!  Ya disappeared fer a week!”

              “I needed some time to recollect myself,” Angie said softly.  “Somethin’ happened that- that threw me fer a loop.”

              “What happened?” Stan asked.  Angie bit her lip.  She looked down at what she was holding, a large glass jar with water in it. Water and…

              “The coloration is peculiar,” Ford remarked, “but other than that, the item floating in the jar looks like an abnormally large frog’s egg.”  Angie swallowed.

              “Egg, yes.  Frog’s, no,” she whispered.  Fiddleford’s jaw dropped.  Ford looked at Stan.  Stan met Angie’s eyes with a silent question.  She nodded mutely.

              Oh. Oh, no.