#i like this water based dye better than the alcohol based one but it does have a tendency

[niceandbluept2]

guys look at my origami wallet ... no stitches holding this bitch together. i love it also follow my leatherworking instagram if u haven't :)

[beedaleebjd]

BJD Dyeing: Soulkids + DiM Hybrid

In early August- I, queen of Nervousness, suddenly really wanted to try doll dyeing. Something I've researched billions of times because I have several projects that require it- but setting a day to actually do it was daunting because there was no promise that I wouldn't suddenly chicken out (and then feel bad for weeks.) So, I seized that moment of worry-free clarity! 🤪

Pre-Setup?:

First, I did a "mockup" setup in the kitchen to get a feel for the flow and what supplies I needed at the ready, and then after dinner, armed with my notes and two trusty assistants, I jumped into it. I figured since it was just a hue-shift it would be relatively safe as a first attempt (though a full body doll is still a bit ambitious lol... I think dyeing just a few parts would be even less stressful, like fantasy parts/wings or something.)

Dye subject: 

I am dying my Doll in Mind Laia HCE hybrid. She's on a Soulkids New body (from 2021), and both are in normal resin. I believe the head is from 2018 or 2019. For anyone wondering- the default match of these two is excellent! 95+% match with the head being paler, only slightly noticeable in photos. In my opinion, a faceup would be enough to close that gap.

So this doll is shelling a fantasy character of mine; Naelia, an elf mage that has a bubblegum-pink skintone. (Artwork for reference)

Dye Supplies:

- A dedicated "not-for-cooking" stainless steel pot. I got mine at Walmart for 6$ (I have also seen ceramic recommended; avoid non-stick coatings, aluminum, or anything damaged.)

- A long dowel (or in my case, two chopsticks taped together...) to rest across the lip of the pot. This is to hang pieces off of.

- A metal spoon (for measuring dye and some stirring. A longer spoon is welcome but I didn't need it much!)

- The Rit Dyemore colors of choice. I had purple and blue on hand in case the pink hue wasn't right on the peachy resin. I didn't end up needing them at all.

- 1 glass bowl of cool water (I have seen ice water used but I opted for regular cold tap) This is to cool the pieces and pulls off excess dye.

- 1 glass bowl of warmer soapy water. I just used my on-hand palmolive dish soap. This is for- or was for- if I needed to magic eraser excess dye off any of the pieces... I didn't end up using this bowl at all for this project. I was dying a pretty light color though, so I will still set it up every time- better to not use it then not have it in an emergency.

- Cotton balls, magic eraser, & rubbing alcohol- again, on hand to remove access dye, spots, etc.

- Emergency acetone, if I needed to strip a piece completely. I did not have acetone free nail polish remover but I would say based on what I've read, I'd recommend that far more- its safer on pieces and does the job just as well. But in a pinch (or if all else fails) if you rinse your piece REALLY WELL with soapy water very promptly after acetone wiping it should be alright. (I do occasionally use this for removing stubborn faceups and I haven't had any issues, but it pays to be cautious.)

- A clean designated dye towel to lay rinsed parts on (I find this less messy than paper towels, and cushier) I also had some clean washrags handy for drying parts if they needed acetone cleaning so minimize cross-contamination on the towel.

Preparing the doll & dyebath:

First order of business was to unstring her and carefully lay out the left and right sides. (Souldoll kindly marks almost every piece as R or L so I didn't have to worry as much)

I filled my bathroom sink with warm/hot soapy water (palmolive dish detergent again) and laid a washrag in the bottom of my sink to cushion parts from clinking about in the water. I gently washed every piece with a magic eraser, and tried to be as even and thorough as possible to remove any surface dirt, oils, and even out any possible nicks she may have acquired while being my sewing model. Since souldoll does have sanding lines on one side that are pretty noticeable to the touch, I went over them lightly for the hell of it. I accepted that dye may gather here. I laid her out to dry on a towel and went to eat dinner.

After that I strung her left side in white string and her right side in yellow. I tried to pick string that was a lighter color just in case of any color bleeding, and I chose a woven string instead of yarn just in case of any possible melting. (I haven't seen cases of this or anything, its just me.) I ended up threading wire through a few of the pieces (feet, torso) to try out preferences (I don't think I like wire in this case, it kinda dug into her hip joint at one spot.)

At the recommendation of a few tutorials, I initially filled the pot with 3 quarts of warm/hot water. I was measuring the length of the string and pieces in the pot as I went, and ended up adding about 4 more cups of water. This did not have any negative effects that I could see. I don't know if this matters, but I brought the clear water to an almost boil first- that setting is about a 6 on my stove. Then I added 1 tablespoon of Rit Dyemore Super Pink, and turned up the heat to 7 (medium-high) to keep an active steamy boil. I added one drop of dish soap to the top- it's reportedly to disperse surface tension and break up any dye that may be floating, but this dye is liquid so it shouldn't have as much of a risk of that as powder dye would.

This next part is important- I had help! My two assistants (my roomie @dolliesanddelights/Caiterprince and my partner Naf/@dyemelikeasunset) were present. Cait was helping me document everything, taking videos, and checking the color-match of dyed pieces in photos as we went. My boo had a stopwatch app open and also ended up helping me hold pieces when I was busy. This probably is the biggest recommendation I can offer to anyone dyeing dolls, for the first time or not. Taking photos of the progress while I was in a mad dash between dipping parts would have significantly slowed me down and disrupted my process, and having someone help me time and hold pieces while I ran other pieces along the assembly line was SOOO helpful. So if you're intimidated to do it all yourself, you'd be right and you shouldn't have to! If you have a friend or relative that you trust then I recommend recruiting them. If you do not, then don't be obligated to make yourself take photos, and maybe do a pretend run-through of it yourself so you know what you need and how much time it takes to rinse or photograph a part, etc. It might be over the top, but being prepared helps my anxiety immensely, haha. (Also! Even though I had everything set up, I reminded myself that if it went awful at any point, I could always just stop!) So that being said, the assembly line went like this: Dip the parts with a timer going, to help figure out how long everything would need. I would bob the parts up and down to check the color change every 10 seconds. After the desired color was reached, I would pull them over to my cool clean water and dunk them, then lay them on the towel and check the color and for any discrepancies. If it was good, I would grab the next pair of pieces and my boo would reset the timer. I opted to do all my parts in pairs of the same type- ie both the left and right shins, feet, elbow peanuts, etc. So I decided I would test the flat feet first, on wire. I ended up dipping them again later as they were a touch lighter than the rest of the other pieces!)

This photo doesn't even do it justice- it was already lovely!!!! 😍😍 I had only read one report about dyeing Souldoll resin and that it didn't take dye great, so I was extra vigilant. But it looked good, so onward we went- a 30 minute rush!!! I worked my way up from the feet, doing shins, knees, thighs, etc. I ended up dipping all the body pieces for 45 seconds- even the torso pieces!

The DiM head took dye significantly faster- around 25 seconds. Since it was a faceplate, I threaded string through the eyewells- it did not have any ill effects!!! I decided to leave her faceplate a half-shade lighter so when I blush her, she'll have a natural highlight in her cheeks... no idea if this is "correct", I just really didn't want to risk it being too dark. Another important highlight: Someone had recommend using nylon socks or a fishnet to dip parts, especially small pieces. I grabbed one of these at walmart to give it a go.

I LOVED this thing. if it was bigger, I would've used it for everything. I used it on all the peanuts, hands, heeled feet, and my boo even fit both the forearms in it with no consequence. I was very attentive about any mesh imprinting on the resin, but nothing like that happened- even if the parts didn't move around much, they all dyed evenly. This thing could probably hold everything for tinies, and most pieces for YOSD except maybe the torso/head. I preferred this way more then trying to string them- the little pieces made me nervous because this pot is deep so this was a blessing.

Finally done! (The lighting in my kitchen is affecting the final color a lot, so read on)- The outcome was: her elbow peanuts, flat feet, and face are a touch lighter, but not enough for me to care about. The tops of her hip peanuts have a darker hue from the friction in her hip socket, so that's fine- and absolutely no dye collected on any of her seamlines. Well ok then! 😵

Some things I learned: - Between wire, string, dowels, fishnet, and free-handing- I liked string, it gave me a lot of control. Wire was ok, but I noticed afterwards that it had dug into the thinner resin around her hip socket, so I probably will use it less- wire works well for small bits so they don't get thrashed around in the boiling water, but IMHO the fishnet was awesome and way faster.

- The water WILL evaporate!! 😂 Even though I filled it even more than needed, I started to notice pieces that were formerly submerged started to peek out when hanging on the dowel. This is when my boo and I started to just hold the strings above the pot- but the steam WILL get to you after a while. (Don't be me. Bad bee.) Hook the string onto a piece of wire, hold it with forceps or tongs- whatever you can find. - Keeping up a quick pace is important. The water is evaporating, the dye to water ratio will change over time. This might get complicated if a part gets splotchy or has residue- but I think it's better to run through and dye everything in one pass, then go through and clean/strip the parts that didn't turn out and redye those. (Unless you have an assistant! but I can't speak from experience yet. Guess I have to dye more dolls and find out! 👀) Anyway, without further ado-

(Since tumblr is limiting posts to 10 photos, expect more photosets in the future...)

I can't believe how lucky this first attempt was lmfao. I keep having moments of "but is she TOO pink?" but then immediately marveling in how lovely she is in all lighting conditions. I need to get apoxie for her elf ears and start on her faceup, and I'm still hunting eyes and a wig to modify for her, but she's sitting on my craft desk in all her pink radiance. 

I was ALMOST tempted to jump into another dye but didn't want to soil my good fortune so quickly, LOL! That being said, I have several other dye projects planned- one girl that needs to be blue, a dip dye, a deep dark elf purple, and a few dark brown hues, so I will do my best to document those too. I find this kind of resource very precious so I'm happy I can finally contribute. 😭 If anyone has any questions I didn't think to address here, feel free to ask. (I will also be cross-posting this to DoA and instagram when I am able to.) Otherwise, thank you for following along, and I hope this was helpful.

[aceofspadegrass]

Pretty Princess? Nope.

Characters: Aguni Morizono, Niragi Suguru, Dori Sakurada

Genre: Honestly it's more Sakurada crack. Based off of Dori wearing a dress.

1.3k words

So this happened. Again. I'm having too much fun with writing Sakurada just..... being there. For no logical reason.

Oh, and for people who need to know, there is alcohol mentioned in here. In case you don't want to read about that.

“ So….. explain to me again why you’re sitting here?” Aguni approaches the giraffe print clad man, who was sitting legs over the edge of the rooftop, staring out into the night sky.

“ Fucking…… bastard left me here because I tried to seduce him while he was wearing a fucking dress. Where did he even get a dress, this is the Beach, there’s only supposed to be swimwear here…..” Niragi grumbles, arms folded over his chest as he stares downwards, his lips pulled into a disgusted sneer.

Aguni blinks, staring at the man, his tired eyes and body really wanting to go lay down and sleep. Sadly he had his rounds to make, so he was out and about, and now was finding what Aguni could only refer to as the ‘Worst Thing I Had to Babysit, and I Don’t Even Babysit’ sitting alone on the roof. So all he offers instead is a low hum of acknowledgement, vaguely aware of what Niragi was talking about.

“ You didn’t….. know it was him?”

Niragi throws his arms up in the air. “ How the hell was I supposed to know that was him?! He was turned around, I guess fixing his fucking hair or something, and I came up behind him and-“ Niragi loudly groans, running his hand down his face. “ And then I stormed up here, fucking yelled at him for it, and then he had the audacity to tell me to ‘calm down’ and ‘take a breather’. What does he think he is, telling me to calm down?! I’m perfectly calm!” Aguni calls bullshit, but he knew better than to light the cannon again, so he remains silent. Niragi looks back at him, eyes scanning over his figure again. “ Don’t you have something better to do, Boss?”

Aguni just looks at Niragi, at the black shirt with the white streams that weaved throughout like a bad imitation of a cooling lava pool giraffe, at the half bun and loose strand that hung off the side of his face, at the narrowed stare and casual grip on the rifle that Niragi carried with him everywhere, ready to strike at any point, whenever he felt up to. Niragi remains silent, waiting for an answer, and Aguni just sighs, and walks up to the man, looking down at him with a quiet disposition. Niragi stands up, still looking at Aguni, who despite the attempt to not feel small, still was a whole inch shorter.

Aguni puts a hand on Niragi’s shoulder, and his lips slightly purse, trying to think of the words to say. Niragi tenses up underneath his touch, and knocks it away, backing up just a bit. Aguni’s hand drops to his side, but that didn’t matter, Aguni gathering what might as well be a response. “ Would you like to come down and share some beer while you let steam off instead?” Aguni offers. Sure, it wasn’t the best sort of response, but he had no idea how to comfort a loaded gun who tried to romance his doppelgänger wearing a dress. Aguni didn’t even want to think of the reason why that guy even was wearing one, or what he was doing, but right now he had to make sure Niragi didn’t go and do something so stupid that he had the sole power to restrain for another day. Redirecting his attention for a little oughta do the trick, right? Niragi looks at Aguni carefully, picking apart the simple offer, then visibly relaxes a little, nodding. Aguni simply turns and starts heading down, and by the tap tap tapping of Niragi’s footsteps, he was obediently following him as usual.

The trip down to the bar area was relatively unobtrusive, people ignoring them for once for their own hubris. That was better, Aguni thought, since that meant nobody would wind up Niragi in any sort of emotion, positive or negative.

The current bartender quickly gets the both of them a glass, Aguni taking a slow sip as Niragi stares at the golden liquid like it killed his ego. Aguni opens his mouth just a fraction in an attempt to nudge the other into a soon-to-be one sided conversation, but Niragi takes the glass and drinks at least a third of it, setting it back down on the counter with a little more force than necessary, and his mouth opens on its own as Niragi begins his tangent over finding his clone and everything that he’s done thus far. Aguni acts as nothing more than a vessel, feeling cold wash down his throat every other minute as Niragi went on and on with brief pauses to quench his throat, and soon both parties were empty of beer, Niragi ending up with a second and getting louder. The rant wasn’t even on the other him anymore, now just whatever beef Niragi had with literally anything that his brain could dig up.

“ - I couldn’t even find my good shirt for a good twenty minutes because I somehow kicked it underneath the table and I thought someone walked into my room and stole my shirt! But then one of the other militants came by and found it under there, thank goodness, and then when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, I saw that smug snowball with legs on my way to the dining hall, and he had the audacity to exist? Who let that man look like that! No man should look that devious with that bad of a hair dye job!” Niragi went on, Aguni slowly regretting letting this man open his mouth. He nearly was as bad as Hatter, except Hatter was just like that, and Niragi was well….. Niragi.

Niragi looks at Aguni, and sniffs a little, pointing a finger at his chest. “ And then you know what else? Then I found someone trying to leave, so I shot the bastard behind the building. 5 shots, one to each limb and straight in the dick.” He barks a laugh. “ It was great! Serves him right!” The man leans back a little, still smiling and apparently off in his own little world by now. Aguni asks for a water, and he sips on that as Niragi continues.

He counts at least four drinks before Niragi was definitely just rambling for the sake of hearing himself talk. Aguni only had the one at the beginning, now sipping at a can of soda. Niragi was grinning at the sky, and he was spouting nonsense about culling codes. Aguni wasn’t sure what most of it meant, but Niragi seemed to like talking about it.

“ Oh! There you are!” A similar, yet much friendlier voice catches Aguni’s attention, and he slowly looks over as Niragi’s nicer clone comes over, and Aguni quickly realizes what Niragi meant, the man still wearing what looked to be a tiara. “ Hello there! I hope you don’t mind if I bring Niragi back to his room, would you?” “ Oh, uh…. No. Go ahead.” Aguni gestures to the giraffe, who barely recognizes that Sakurada was even there. Sakurada bows a little in appreciation, and he comes over to Niragi, who grumbles quietly. “ Go rot in a hole somewhere else you…. pretty princess.” Niragi commented with an obvious slur in his voice, Sakurada politely laughing and helping Niragi stand. “ Come on, you need your rest. I apologize if he was too much, I’ll take over from here!” Niragi looks back to Aguni as he says the last parts, Aguni nodding back with a calm expression. “ I know Niragi, he’ll be fine.” Aguni tells Sakurada. Sakurada nods, and with quiet encouragement, he guides the drunk man out and back to his room, Aguni downing the last of the soda. He couldn’t help but feel relief throughout his entire body. Thank goodness someone else had control of him. He wasn’t sure his psyche could deal any longer. Or his ears.

[naralanis]

hi! i just barely found your account from the lena fountain pen ask, but i had a few questions i hope you wouldn’t mind helping me out with? so this might be silly to ask, but what exactly is the difference between a ballpoint pen and a fountain pen? and what exactly are the pros to fountain pens? i’ve never used a fountain pen before in my life, and even just using some ballpoint pens, it smears. so how would one write with a fountain pen without smearing everything? i just can’t imagine the process it takes to use a fountain pen on a daily basis?

If your questions are pen-related, not only I absolutely DO NOT MIND AT ALL, I am ECSTATIC to receive them and more than happy to answer them! There are no silly questions here. I can't shut up about pens -- they activate my hyperfixate button and welp, here we go!

Short answers:

1. What exactly is the difference between a ballpoint pen and a fountain pen?

The main difference between ballpoints and fountain pens is the way they distribute ink on paper.

2. What exactly are the pros to fountain pens?

Ergonomically, they are better, since they require little to no pressure for writing. I'll expand on this below the cut!

3. How would one write with a fountain pen without smearing everything? What is the 'process' to use a fountain pen on a daily basis?

Different nibs, different inks, and different papers! And there's no real process, really, just a few long-term maintenance tips. Also expanded below the cut.

There are really two main differences between ballpoints and fountain pens -- the first one, like I mentioned before, is the method through which they dispense ink onto paper. The other one, however, is the type of ink they use.

A ballpoint, which you are probably familiar with (think of your everyday Bic), uses a small revolving ball at the very tip to distribute ink.

They also use a very thick, oil-based ink. It's made by dissolving dyes in alcohol and fatty acids -- while the alcohol ensures a smooth flow of ink, and the oils are necessary to lubricate the tip. That's why these pens seldom dry out, even without caps!

Rollerballs and gel pens use exactly the same mechanism to dispense ink! However, they use completely different inks -- gel pens use a pigment suspended in a water-based gel. It's why they feel smoother and require less pressure to write. However, they will skip more often, because they are not as lubricated as ballpoints.

Rollerbals use an ink very similar to fountain pen ink -- basically water-soluble dyes. It flows super smooth when compared to ballpoints and gel pens, but it also dries out in the pen more easily and, because the ink is actually liquid (again, dye dissolved in just water), it has higher chances of bleeding through the page and/or smudging.

Now, fountain pens use a completely different ink delivery method. As opposed to a small metal ball distributing the ink, they rely on capillary action to lead the ink from the ink reservoir through the feed and nib.

You see the 'fins' under the nib? That's the feed. It has an ink channel that basically connects the nib, feed, and section to an ink reservoir (a cartridge, converter, or other). Here's another view from the Goulet Pens Blog (which I recommend you check out!):

Because of the way they distribute ink, fountain pens require the least pressure to write -- if any pressure at all. A well-tuned fountain pen should be able to put a line to paper under nothing but its own weight.

That's a huge deal, especially if you write by hand a lot. It relieves a ton of pressure from the wrist (I speak from experience here!) and it just makes for a very smooth-feeling writing experience. 10/10 recommend.

Another benefit is that you can refill your fountain pen (and some rollerballs) using bottled inks. That cuts down on the use of cartridges/individual refills and disposable pens.

Now, fountain pens can be a bit tricky if you're completely new to them. There's this great worry that they'll bleed through everywhere, that you'll smear everything you write, or that they're just not practical at all. That's not true. Fair, they may require a bit more mindfulness and care, but to me, it's completely worth it. For example:

How to write without smearing everything? Usually, try a finer nib! The more ink you put down, the longer it takes to dry, naturally. Maybe you need a drier ink -- that's a thing! Some inks are super lubricated, and will take much longer to dry. Others have special properties such a sheen or shimmer, and that will also significantly increase drying time.

Maybe the paper is super smooth, maybe even a little waxy. If the paper doesn't absorb ink (aka, the ink just sits atop the paper surface) that will take longer to dry as well.

There's no 'process' to use a fountain pen daily. My process is, I open it up and start writing. I have finer nibs that I use at work, where I don't have control over the paper quality, and I also use quick-drying inks for grading papers I need to return straight away. At home, I can be picky -- I get the broadest, wettest nib, with the sparkliest ink I own, and go to town on some excellent paper I pre-selected and tested for that specific purpose.

It's all what you make of it. The only thing about fountain pens is that they require some maintenance -- as anything you plan to own for years and years does. Clean it every couple of weeks (or every other month, or even less, if you never change inks). If you *know* you're not going to use it for a while, clean it out before you put it away -- the worst thing is dried up ink crud in a pen.

And... it doesn't have to be a hobby to you! I have like 100 pens, I tinker with them, I collect them (and inks, and paper). It can just be a writing tool -- an excellent one. Just because I go all gung-ho for them, doesn't mean you have to!

Hope that helps!

[houndsharkk]

alright alright, do yall want my dreamSMP headcanons?? keep in mind that i only watch a few of them

/dsmp

Possible TW's: trauma, manipulation, death, suicide, overdose; the basic dreamSMP stuff, unfortunately.

ok here we go:

Dream - a separate entity from DreamXD, though they are related; perhaps XD is from another universe? anyways, Dream was possessed by a 'Dreamon' at a young age, making him think that things like manipulation are ok simply because he didn't know any better. he says he's trying to get better, but is he? no. this is just another trick to make Tommy think he can change. Jacob Sheep horns are slowly growing (sheep-hybrid thanks to his mother, Cpt. Puffy). Him becoming family with George and Sapnap made him realize that he can make his own family, an idea which he twisted and turned into manipulation. In his words, paraphrased, he "did a bad thing but for good reasons" which were "bringing the server together"; he wanted to be a family with him in control, a dictatorship, a hivemind.

Drista - Dream's sister, more related to XD than Dream is. somewhat OP but has morals unlike her brother.

George - Mooshroom hybrid!! Has a little mushroom crown and cape because he thinks of himself as royalty (he isn't) - has little horns and a little tail. Misses Dream the most out of the Dream Team, but somewhat afraid of him. Wants 'the old dream' back, which was partly a persona and partly Dream learning about found family. He tries not to get involved with politics or the server after the events of the first wars, because he's scared. Sleeps through things as an excuse. Awesamdude's kid - doesn't tell anyone.

Sapnap - Dragon hybrid - has small horns and a tail, with burn marks at the base of them. His hands and feet are clawed and burnt. He also wants their Dream back, but understands that he was always corrupt and has mostly gotten over it. Wants to help with the Egg but, like George, doesn't like getting involved with big things on the server. He's ashamed of his dragon heritage, covering up his head burns with a headband and covering his horns with his hair; he hides his tail under a cape and wears gloves as well. Sapnap has unnaturally orange eyes, which he would change with contacts, if they didn't melt anytime he tried. Battle-scarred and hungry to start fights and sever friendships out of boredom. Badboyhalo's child.

Callahan - Cervitaur (deer-centaur). Distantly related to Puffy, Captain Sparklez, and Schlatt. I will admit, I have never watched him, and I don't think he's ever been too involved in server politics? Just a simple deer man trying to live his life.

Awesamdude - Creeper centaur thing (he and Callahan are... cousins? i guess?). Incredibly insecure about his morality and the fact that George doesn't talk to him much. Thinks he's a bad person. He becomes a father figure to Tommy through his Sam Nook persona - slowly gaining his confidence back through his real estate and his (illegal) adoption of the gremlin. Badass. Runs the prison by himself because he feels the need to prove himself, and he doesn't know anyone that would be up to the job.

Alyssa - inactive :[ probably human

Ponk - Human!! One of the few humans on this server, actually! He quite likes building and terraforming; he makes very aesthetic builds (see; war campsite). He and Sam are close friends. Ponk is also a parental figure to Tommy, but is closer to the fun uncle. The three of them steal together and then Ponk and Sam cover for Tommy because who could accuse them of lying?? Hesitant to join in with politics.

BadBoyHalo - Demon. Very, very tall demon. Large. Pretty wholesome. I honestly don't know what else to say about him lmao I haven't been paying attention to the Egg much. He and Skeppy are a thing though. Wishes his son would stop killing people's pets to start wars.

TommyInnit - He doesn't know what kind of hybrid he his, but he isn't human. His eyes change color with mood, going from a light grey to an extremely vibrant cobalt blue. He believes he may be part raccoon, or part bird(?) on Philza's side. Phil wasn't around during his childhood; Tommy only knew him as the hero from the strories that his older brother Wilbur told him. Philza killing Villain!Bur cemented his heroship, which is why Tommy sees him as a father figure. Wilbur never told him that he (Phil) was their father. Tommy is actually part siren, but his gills and fins haven't appeared yet. His PTSD is triggered by Dream, blackstone, tnt, people asking for his armor, and a few other things. An extremely traumatized kid. Best friends with Tubbo.

Tubbo - Sheep hybrid. His horns started coming in during Schlatt's presidentship, making him think he was a goat and following in his footsteps. In reality, he's Captain Sparklez's son; related to Schlatt yes, but not at all like him. He likes headbutting the people he loves, including his best friend Tommy. Wholesome, but still a chaotic being of destruction. He and Ranboo are also very good friends!

Fundy - Fox shifter; unlike most of the other hybrids on this server (other than Techno), he can turn into an anthro fox. Canonically transgender! Son to WilburSoot and Sally the Salmon (another shifter). Wilbur was an amazing father while Fundy was small, but started neglecting him during the Presidency, when he really needed a father. The two grew apart further during Pogtopia, and Fundy still tries to refuse his father's attempts at redemption. Despite this, Fundy and Ghostbur, even though they've had arguments, have a better relationship. Fundy is even one of the people who are attempting to bring back Wilbur. He sees Phil as a somewhat father figure despite him trying to be bitter towards him. Very involved with L'manburg and DreamSMP poilitics, but has taken a step back since his dad's death. Fundy also canonically misses Schlatt and wants him to be proud of him. He picked up smoking from him.

Punz - gonna be honest, I have never watched Punz.

Purpled - Enderdragon hybrid. Like Sapnap, but purple lol. Use to have a healthy rivalry with Technoblade, but doesn't talk to him anymore. A bit reserved. I don't watch him either idk if you could tell.

Wilbur - Bird hybrid, like Philza; his wings were clipped by Dream when he first began fighting for independence. Good friends with Technoblade. Wilbur was an idealistic person, and he was probably the most loyal member of L'manburg. He was so upset about the betrayals, he thought of them not as betrayals to the country, but to himself. When Schlatt took over, he began to panic. His perfect nation was being ruined, his nation, HIS nation. He thought of it as his and his alone; all those other people? They were side characters. L'manburg his unfinished symphony wasn't his anymore. It scared him. He began planning to take the country out because, well, if he can't have him, then no one can. He manipulated Tommy, making him go along with his plan, slowly becoming more insane and destructive. Deep down, Wil still loved his family, and his country, and his lost lover, but that didn't matter to him anymore. After blowing up L'manburg (the first explosion), Wilbur broke down. He realized what he had done, he'd become a bad guy; he'd worked with Dream. He asked his father to kill him. And so Philza did.

Ghostbur - Wings work again. Ghostbur pretends not to remember, he pretends that he's changed in death, but he remembers all of it. The bad memories hurt him now, more than ever, and he just can't deal with it; so he doesn't. Water makes him melt, and that includes tears. He's trying so hard to be a good person, he's trying so hard to be a good father, a good brother, a good friend. But it isn't working. He's still, though unintentionally, hurting people, and he feels so bad about it.

Schlatt - Ram hybrid. Brother to Puffy and Jordan (Sparklez). Schlatt is a smoker and an alcoholic, and a power hungry dictator. Or well, that's the persona he puts on. Schlatt, in reality (still /dsmp) genuinely does not give a fuck. He didn't care what happened, because he knew that people disliked him. He knew for a fact that he would be killed. This is why I believe he offed himself. He planned his stroke, or heart attack, the fandom doesn't seem to know which. He probably ingested some bad protein powder or poison or something, maybe he drank himself to death, maybe he OD'd and then drank, we don't know. But it seems unlikely that someone like him would let his body give out like that without a reason. Oh yeah, and he and Quackity were married at some point, but it was too short to really mean anything.

Ghlatt - Ghlatt, though still addicted to alcohol and various drugs, feels bad about being a bad person in his life. He thinks that it's a good thing he died, that the server benefited from his death, and that he shouldn't have become a ghost. He's right, of course, but I like to think that he's regained morality. Maybe now, in the afterlife, he can work on himself. Ghlatt isn't strong enough to take a physical form, so he borrows Ghostbur's occasionally.

Skeppy - Some sort of Diamond Ore man?? I think he's human. He and BBH have a thing. I don't think I've ever watched a Skeppy DreamSMP stream. Uhh Egg?? Egg. Badlands boys woo.

Eret - Herobrine is his cousin. Like. Yeah. That Herobrine. Anyways, they're a king, and they're more of an Awesomedude morally grey type character. Her only interest is survival, and I respect that. I haven't really paid much attention to him though. Their crown has bi flag colored gems on it :]

Jack Manifold - Jack Manifol! Jack Manifall~~ Jack Manifall.. off bridge!! Jack Manidrown :} OH SHIT- (i dont watch him)

Niki - Human. Wears Wilbur's old coat. Though she did go through a tough spot after Wilbur's death, she now runs a flower shop with Puffy. Dyes her hair often. I don't watch her either.

Quackity - Duck hybrid; wings were clipped upon his joining the server. His face scar was canonized :] Alex genuinely liked Schlatt, but realized he was being mistreated so he joined Pogtopia. He felt bad about it though. I don't have many headcanons for him to be honest.

Mexican Dream - ok am i the only one that wasn't into this arc?? i didn't even watch any of it. i saw him like once and was like "oh this is just a bit" and left wtf. was he important???

Karl Jacobs - Time Traveler man; human. Karl is slowly losing his memory due to his travel between timelines. The more he does it, the more he loses. I look forward to seeing this progress. Are he, Sapnap, and uhhh someone else actually engaged?? I like that headcanons :] I don't remember who the other person is though.

HBomb - Cat maid.

Technoblade - Piglin shifter. Techno is softer than he seems, and he genuinely enjoys the company of Ranboo and his friend Philza. Technoblade met Phil after saving him from wither skeletons in the Nether, making short visits to the Overworld until he built up an immunity. He likes the cold because it's the opposite of his terrible home dimension. Techno really did want to help Tommy, but their ideals clashed too much for it to work out. Very destructive anarchist. Though, he is pretty chill nowadays.

Antfrost - Cat shifter. So I lied, there are three. Uhh wizard!! I like that HC!! Wizard catboy go brrrr. In reality, I don't watch the Badland Boys often and I haven't seen any of the Egg plot so idk what's up with him lol. I like to think that before the Egg, he and Fundy were friends.

Philza - Wings were beat up during the explosion; he tried to protect Wilbur with them, but still ended up failing. He's the father to Wilbur and Tommy, with Techno being an old friend of his. He canonically really likes cobblestone. Phil tries his best to be the dad, but his morals are all over the place. Lately, he's unofficially adopted Ranboo, helping him with his uh. Issues.

Connor - Human in a Sonic onesie idk i dont watch him

Puffy - Sheep Hybrid. Sister to Schlatt and Jordan, mother to Dream. I really don't know tbh; she's everyone's adoptive mom. She's what Philza and Awesamdude wish they could be.

Vikkstar - Human. Has he?? Done anything?? Ever??

Lazarbeam - Isn't he a gingerbread man or something.

Ranboo - Half Enderman Half [REDACTED]. I dont have headcanons for him tbh I just accept his canon. May be related to XD?

Foolish Gamers - A literal god. He can revive people, but it takes one of his lives. Uhhh he's really good at building what.

Hannahxxrose - I don't watch her :[ I should though

Slimecicle - CHARLIE SLIMECICLE. Slime hybrid obviously. New to the server, very scared [/j] and confused. Doesn't know what's going on and that's ok because he's funny I like him

I got really tired of this towards the end oops

[spicycreativity]

Ticket Crimes - Oneshot

Rating: T Words: 9,752 Characters: All Category: Gen Summary: To welcome his new crew members about the USS Foley, Starfleet Captain Janus Gaines schedules shore leave on the pleasure planet of Ya'Lotus. Janus and Virgil run into an old acquaintance who seems to have ulterior motives; Roman and Remus attempt to infiltrate a drug trafficking ring; Patton and Logan narrowly avoid death on a history tour. Content Warnings: Mild violence/violent intent, alcohol use/mild intoxication, guns and phasers (no shots fired), mentions of drugs and drug trafficking (no drug use depicted) Note: You do not need to be familiar with Star trek to read this. In fact, it's probably better that you're not, because I took a LOT of liberties with canon

Doctor Patton Kelsey's boot heels clicked along the metal floor of the USS Foley as he made his way out of Sickbay. Despite the corridors' unusual emptiness, he kept to the right side out of habit, dragging his fingers along the wall as he went. He counted the doors, mouthing the numbers to help him keep track, until he came across the door he was looking for.

There was nothing usual about Ensign Virgil Salem's door except for the fact that it rarely ever opened. Virgil emerged for his shifts and for scheduled meals and made himself scarce the rest of the time.

Patton had studied Virgil's chart extensively but found no psychological defect that would render him unfit to serve in Starfleet. Surmising that Virgil was shy, Patton privately declared himself responsible for looking after the young recruit. The fact that they had joined the crew at the same time only served to strengthen this notion.

Patton raised his fist and knocked gently on the door, knowing full well that Virgil was inside. "Ensign Salem?" No response. "Virgil? Kiddo? Our group is about ready to beam down."

"Do I really have to go to that?" Virgil asked, his voice muffled behind the door.

"You don't want to?" Patton asked. "It's a party for us!"

"I would have been fine with a bottle of Saurian brandy, but nobody bothered to ask for my opinion, did they?"

Patton smiled a little and leaned against the doorframe. "Look, kiddo, you'd better just come with me before Captain Gaines calls you over the intercom."

"Shore leave is supposed to be optional," Virgil shot back, but Patton could tell that his resolve was slipping away. Virgil took a while to warm up to things, but he could usually be convinced.

"Not when the whole reason we're here is to celebrate you!"

"And you," Virgil said, and he was much closer to the door now.

Patton stepped back and waited for the door to slide open. It did a moment later, and Virgil appeared still tugging on his gold tunic over the standard issue black undershirt. His dark brown hair, slightly longer than regulation permitted, stuck up in the back where he had been resting his head against his pillows. Patton absentmindedly smoothed it down, though he managed not to lick his hand to do so.

Virgil let him lead him down the hall toward the Transporter Room. "You know I'm not actually your kid, right?"

"But we look so much alike!" Patton smiled sunnily at him. Patton was sturdy and soft where Virgil was rail-thin, and his honey blonde hair and blue eyes contrasted with Virgil's own dark hair and darker eyes.

"Sure, pops." Virgil shook his head, but there was a fondness to it. "I look like your shadow."

He stuttered his steps as they approached the Transporter Room so Patton would enter before him. Virgil respected Captain Janus Gaines, but he was also keenly aware of their difference in rank whenever they shared space. While Captain Gaines played fast and loose with regulations and encouraged his crew to do the same, Virgil never forgot what those regulations were. They had been drilled into his head at the Academy and haunted him like a ghost no matter how casually the Captain treated him.

"Took you long enough," Janus drawled. "I was starting to think you'd gotten lost."

"That was one time," Virgil said before he could stop himself. Not that it mattered; Janus had only ever been amused by Virgil's backtalk.

The rest of the party to beam down were milling about like guests at a mixer, largely ignoring Virgil and Patton. Janus stood out among them not only for his nonchalance, but for his unusual appearance. He made no secret of rejecting his half-Vulcan heritage and regularly spirited away Lieutenant Commander Remus Aime to help him bleach his hair and eyebrows. This resulted in unhealthy-looking white-blond hair and stark black roots. To make up for this transgression, he kept his hair at an acceptable regulation length, one that revealed his mismatched ears. The left was pointed exactly as a Vulcan's ears would be, but the right was rounded like a human's. Contributing to the asymmetry were his mismatched eyes: the left was a piercing blue while the right was warm and brown.

"We're ready now!" Patton said. He often focused on the bridge of the Captain's nose to avoid staring openly at him, and he did so now with a sunny but vacant smile gracing his lips.

"Places, everyone," Janus said, cutting off the murmured conversation between the remaining party members.

They all stepped onto the platforms, Virgil with his stomach turning with nerves, Patton staring dead ahead, still smiling.

It was over in a blink.

Janus stepped forward, turning around so he could address his party. "Gentlemen," he said, raising his arms for maximum melodrama, "welcome to Ya'Lotus."

"Uh, yeah, so what is this place?" Virgil asked, stepping off his platform.

He was interrupted by Lieutenant Roman Aime, who had made no secret of his disregard for Virgil since day one. "Weren't you paying attention the first two times we explained it to you?"

Janus rolled his eyes, annoyed at having lost control of the conversation, but made no attempt to regain it. "Logan?"

The android nodded at him, stepping forward and edging Roman out of Virgil's space. "Lotus Island, located on the planet of Ya'Lotus, is a popular shore leave destination due to its vast array of amenities and unique ticket-based economy."

Virgil, who had not been paying attention in the slightest the first two times this was explained to him, frowned. "Ticket-based?"

"Like Earth money," Remus Aime interjected.

"Yeah, yeah," said Roman.

"Ooh, like the county fair!" Patton said.

Virgil wheeled around to face him. "Is that an Earth thing? I'm from Alpha Proxima II."

"Well," said Janus, regaining everyone's attention by clapping his hands once. "Thank you, Ensign Salem, for that fascinating little jaunt into your personal history. But seeing as we're here to have fun, why don't you just stick close to me until you figure everything out, hm?"

"Yes, sir," Virgil said, squinting at Janus. He, like many others, was never sure where he stood with the half-Vulcan, and was unsure what to make of him because of it.

"Joy," said Janus. Addressing the rest of the landing party, he said, "Virgil and I are off to the Tier III Lounge. Is anyone else coming?"

"Logan said he wanted to do the self-guided history tour," said Patton, nudging the android in the ribs.

Logan nodded, causing his ash blond hair to dance along the line of his jaw. His gray eyes differed from organic beings' only in that they reflected no light, and he turned this unsettling gaze upon Patton, who tried not to flinch. "That is correct."

"An island full of debauchery and you're going on a history tour?" Remus demanded, grabbing a fistful of Patton's shirt. Despite the height disparity (Patton being the tallest member of the party and Remus being the shortest), Patton bit his lip and leaned back as much as the young Romulan's grip allowed. With his extravagant face tattoos and devilish bearing, Lieutenant Commander Remus Aime was no stranger to getting his way through intimidation tactics.

"You get free salt water taffy," Patton said, glancing around to see who might assist him.

It was Remus' twin brother who came to his aid, yanking Remus back by the hair. "Knock it off."

"I am your superior officer!" Remus said, releasing Patton and turning to face his brother.

"Oh, I do apologize, Lieutenant Commander Hair Dye," Roman said. To Janus, who was toying with his bleached locks with an exaggerated carefree expression, Roman said, "We'll go with you."

"No way!" Remus said, freeing dark hair from his brother's grasp. "I don't want to go to some stuffy lounge."

"We'll find our own fun on the way," Roman said.

"Again with the melodrama." Janus sighed and looked over at Virgil, who was slouching with his hands jammed in his pockets. "Follow me. If we lose them, we lose them."

Janus turned on his heel, an impressive feat given he was supplementing his already substantial height with three-inch heels, and left the receiving Transporter Room with Virgil in tow. Always loath to be left out, Roman followed suit, trailing Remus, Patton, and Logan behind him.

The first stop was a massive receiving terminal where they were all made to spin a wheel to receive their first round of tickets.

"How, exactly, does this work?" Virgil asked, folding his tickets into a small stack.

"If you really cared to know, you should have paid attention the first two times Logan explained it to you," Janus said, stuffing his own tickets up his sleeve like an Earth magician. "You're more than welcome to join him and Doctor Kelsey on the history tour if you think that would be a better way to spend your time than a high-end liquor tasting."

"You know," Virgil said, "I think I'll stick with you."

"That's what I thought."

A fair distance behind them trailed the Romulan twins Vrih and Vaebri i-Elehu tr'Aime, better known but their preferred names. Given that they hailed from a particularly superstitious region of the planet Romulus, the twins had dubbed themselves "Roman" and "Remus'' respectively to avoid the bad luck of giving away their full names.

"Captain Quick Step is trying to ditch us," complained Remus, his boot heels clicking against the concrete. Patton and Logan had already peeled off, leaving the brothers to tag along after Janus and Virgil on their own.

"Don't let him," Roman urged, nudging Remus to hurry up.

Lotus Island was a hectic place, bustling with all races of aliens. Music rang out loud over strategically-placed speakers and workers called out for the crowd to try their luck at a variety of carnival games from multiple cultures. Sequestered away in gravity-defying skyscrapers were gambling halls, and further inland towered the tracks of massive roller coasters.

Remus dodged an inebriated Orion and nearly tripped, grabbing onto Roman's tunic to stay upright. "He's dodging and weaving, that bastard!"

"You shouldn't have worn heels," Roman chided, grabbing Remus by the wrist and yanking him forward.

"You're wearing heels, too."

"But I can actually walk in them."

Far ahead of them and gaining ground, Janus was employing Earth-based power walking techniques. Virgil stuck close behind him at a jog, toying with his tickets, privately amazed at the unfamiliar sensation of actual paper between his fingers.

Virgil, despite his rigorous Academy training, was somewhat out of breath. Janus was not, and even if he was, would not have allowed Virgil to see him gasping for breath. He had determined long ago to take the best of his Vulcan heritage and the best of his human heritage, suppressing his weak points far beneath the surface where no one could ever see them. Despite his fondness for Remus, Janus Gaines was simply not a man who allowed himself emotional attachments and weaknesses, and this had very little to do with his early childhood training on Vulcan.

"Any particular reason you're running me like a racehorse?" Virgil asked.

"Like you've ever seen a racehorse," Janus replied.

"Okay, don't answer the question."

Despite their rapid pace, Janus managed to turn and leer at Virgil, micro-expressing as only a Vulcan could. "Because it's funny."

Virgil didn't see what was so funny about ditching crewmates, but (wisely) kept that to himself. "Why don't we catch a lift, then?" He gestured to one of the many ride services available, surreys and bicycles, rickshaws and moving sidewalks.

"We're almost there," Janus said, motioning to a blue-black building ahead of them. The rounded windows were blacked out, leaving Virgil to wonder at what was inside.

It was a regular lounge, as he soon found out, quiet and upscale. The interior was dark and just a touch too cool for Virgil and Janus' liking. Virgil crossed his arms as he followed Janus to the bar, but was soon distracted by a familiar hissing and clicking from the corner. "Is that a pinball machine?"

Janus looked at him like he'd just said something phenomenally stupid, mostly to hide the fact that he had only a vague idea of what a pinball machine was. "You can worry about that or you can let me buy you a drink."

"Fine," said Virgil, who had yet to master the subtle and esoteric art of decoding Janus' communication style. He clambered onto a barstool and picked at the piping on his sleeves that denoted his rank while Janus ordered something that the universal translator couldn't translate into English.

The sensation of eyes on him made Virgil shudder. He ran a hand through his unruly hair and glanced down the bar only to make eye contact with a pair of green eyes. They belonged to a Vulcan Virgil had never seen before. Unsure of what to do, Virgil froze, leaving the Vulcan to break the eye contact. He looked Janus up and down, then up again, his gaze lingering on his bleached hair.

"Dude," said Virgil, once he had recovered from the off-putting sensation of having been cased and rejected, "I think that guy likes you."

Janus leaned forward and peered down the bar before pulling back in an attempt to hide behind Virgil. "Shit."

Then came the voice, bassy, yet undeniably Vulcan in its even monotone. "Chu'lak? I thought that was you."

"Fuck," said Janus, already smiling, "Fuck, fuck, fuck." He slipped off the barstool and landed cleanly on his toes so the click of his heels didn't disturb the lounge's quietude. "Sihok."

Sihok saluted both Janus and Virgil, though his attention was mostly on Janus. "Scheduled shore leave?"

"A welcome party," Janus said, holding out his hand for a shake.

Sihok eyed it with what Virgil regarded incorrectly as apathy and Janus recognized as disgust and a trace of amusement. After a fraction of a section of hesitation, he shook Janus' hand. "And this is the new recruit?" he asked, indicating Virgil with a small nod.

"Ensign Virgil Salem," Janus said.

Virgil, who had been trained in cross-cultural contact, gave the proper Vulcan salute with a trembling hand. Despite being unable to decipher Sihok's body language, he could sense the tension between Sihok and Janus as keenly as he could the difference between scotch and bourbon. Somewhere behind them, Virgil registered the click of their drinks being set down.

"Ensign Salem," said Sihok. "Congratulations."

"Thank you," Virgil said, trying not to fidget.

"It is gratifying to know that you've held on to your manners despite your proximity to Chu'lak and his… half-measures."

Virgil's eyes went wide and he quickly averted his gaze. But to Virgil's surprise, Janus, rather than dressing Sihok down, gave a cold chuckle and put a hand on Virgil's shoulder. "It's Janus. Captain Janus Gaines."

"You always did have trouble conforming," Sihok said.

"Yes," said Janus, "Mathematically speaking, I thought I would go for half acceptance. How do I measure up?"

Seeing that his companions were otherwise occupied in their strange battle of insults, Virgil rotated slightly to retrieve his drink from the bar behind him. He had a feeling he was going to need it if Sihok stuck around for much longer.

Sihok lifted one eyebrow ever so slightly. "They call you The Mad Vulcan."

"Well, now you have my attention." Janus turned and retrieved his own drink. "Shall we get a booth?" He knew perfectly well that Sihok was getting at something, and the mystery of the subject matter had him more curious than he would care to admit. He was reasonably sure he had managed to hide this from Sihok, having expressed anger and amusement as a sort of misdirection.

Virgil said, "Is this a worm?" He held his drink up to the light, examining the fizzing red liquid within to try to get a better look at the thing floating in it. "Like mezcal?" From the look Janus gave him, he judged that the universal translator hadn't been able to find a good Vulcan equivalent of the word. "Never mind. Booth?"

"But first." Janus held up his glass for Virgil to toast. "Congratulations, Ensign Salem. Welcome to the Foley."

--

"I didn't want to go to that stupid lounge, anyway," Remus said, crossing his arms. In a fit of pique, he grabbed Roman's braid, which ended just shy of his lower back, and gave it a yank.

"Oh, don't pick a fight with me just because you're grumpy," Roman said, flicking Remus' temple. "There's a million other things to do; I'm sure we can find something more fun than stalking the Captain and the new kid."

"Drugs?" said Remus, brightening considerably.

"I meant like a roller coaster or something, but if you want to go find an upper, I guess that's--"

"Let's go!" Remus started walking away.

"Seriously?" Roman said. "I was kidding! An island full of stuff to do and you want to get high?"

"Re-lax, Vrih. Janus will have a fit if I bring drugs onto the Foley, inside or outside of me. This is more of a personal challenge." Remus continued on his merry way, weaving behind buildings and sticking to areas so nondescript that Roman would have stayed away from them out of pure instinct.

"C'mon, Vaebri, I'm sure the heavily-regulated pleasure planet doesn't have a scary criminal underbelly for you to infiltrate. We're wasting time."

"We're almost there," said Remus.

"What do you mean we're almost there? Almost where? You've never even been here before."

"Do you ever shut up?"

Roman crossed his arms over his chest and scowled, but continued to follow Remus as he strode away from everything that made Lotus Island appealing. They ventured past a few 'Keep Out' signs written in Federation Standard and Vulcan into a gray jungle of humming machinery all locked inside tamper-resistant metal cages. Remus darted up to one particular machine and wasted no time jamming his face up against the grating.

"I'm gonna leave," Roman threatened, his arms still tightly crossed over his chest.

Remus was only half-listening, having just uncovered something he found far more interesting than gambling or thrill rides. "This powers an elevator!"

"Ooh," said Roman, barely giving the gray machinery a glance, "an elevator. Not like the Foley has turbolifts or anything."

"Someone wasn't paying attention to Logan's little spiel."

"Uh, yeah, Ensign Salem."

"No, no. You know what's under the island?"

"Water?"

Remus rolled his eyes and gave Roman's braid another tug. "You've been spending too much time with the Captain.

"Will you knock that off?" Roman demanded, kicking Remus in the shin.

"It's the staff's living quarters!" Remus said, growing bored with the argument.

"Oh," said Roman. "So we're definitely sneaking down there to take a look around?"

"Way ahead of you," Remus said, already fiddling with the control panel.

Behind them came the distinctive hiss of turbolift doors opening, followed by conversation. Roman and Remus, in a moment of synchronization, both turned on their heels and stood at attention. As Romulan twins, they were both fully aware of the attention they tended to attract once strangers figured out they weren't Vulcans. But the pair of humans, both wearing hot pink uniforms denoting them as staff members of Ya'Lotus, didn't so much as glance up as they carried on toward the Midway.

The twins exchanged a glance, then Remus dived for the closing doors with Roman hot on his tail.

"Nice," said Roman, already examining the panel of buttons.

Remus pressed one at random and the elevator began to drop, taking them far beneath the surface of Lotus Island. When the doors opened again, the twins were met with the sight of pale blue walls and concrete floors. It was eerily silent.

Roman stepped out hesitantly, looking around for any possible passers-by, but there was no one. He motioned for Remus to come out after him. While Remus held the higher rank, arbitrarily bestowed by Janus, Roman was the older (and bossier) twin and had yet to relinquish the sense of authority he had gained from a childhood of leading Remus around Romulus and, later, Decos Prime.

"What language is that?" Remus asked, nodding at the phrases painted on the walls.

Roman studied it for a moment. "Federation Standard. Sickbay is to the left, plus the Medical Staff Break Room. Living Quarters to the right."

"Break room," said Remus, already heading toward it. Roman fell into step beside him, so perfectly synchronized that the click of their heels on the concrete sounded like that of only one person. It was a trick they had perfected in childhood that had served them well in previous instances of trespassing.

"It's kinda freaky down here," Roman muttered. "Where is everybody?"

Remus shrugged. "Sleeping? Working?" He wasn't too bothered. Remus was of the mind that getting caught was half the fun of misbehaving.

"And what do you want with Sickbay, anyway?" No sooner had the words left Roman's lips did realization click into place. "Are you still on drugs?" he hissed, barely resisting the urge to grab Remus by the shirt and drag him back to the elevator.

"No, I'm not on drugs," Remus whispered back, displaying a picture-perfect shit-eating grin. "That's the problem." Upon spotting the door to the break room, he fell out of step with Roman and lunged forward to peek inside.

Roman was savvy enough to stop walking when he noticed Remus breaking away. He watched, half annoyed and half embracing the inevitable, as Remus froze in the doorway with wide eyes. With his facial tattoos, his unruly hair, and his mustache (which he had to shave before every inspection), Remus did not pass for Vulcan half as well as Roman did, even with his long hair.

Still, Remus straightened and crossed his arms behind his back, falling into a passable impression of Vulcan stoicism. "Good morning."

In the hall, Roman frantically flashed the Vulcan salute, trying to get Remus to notice.

"Officer," said a voice from within.

"Lieutenant Commander," said Remus, wiggling his fingers playfully at Roman behind his back.

"Did he send you?" asked another voice.

Remus' facade fractured for a moment, his lips twitching with excitement. He clenched one hand into a fist and shook it at Roman as much as his current positioning would allow. Roman rolled his eyes, confident now that Remus could see him.

"Yes." Remus had to fight to hold still as he stared down the two Caitians lounging at a table in the center of the room. They both had PADDs and communicators in front of them, both had half-empty mugs of a substance Remus couldn't identify.

One of the Caitians, whose name tag identified her as M'Birr, tilted her head at Remus, pupils going wide. "Shaa. What if he's lying?"

Remus rocked forward onto his toes, and he flashed several nonsense hand gestures at Roman behind his back in excitement. It was time to bring out one of Janus' favorite lines, albeit with less sarcasm than the Captain usually employed. "Vulcans do not lie."

"Yeah," said Shaa, her pupils also wide, "I have heard that. Beside, the Big Guy would have vetted him before sending him to us."

Bored with the waffling, Remus decided to take a risk. He had no way of knowing what or who the Caitians were referring to, or even if there was any mischief afoot. But Remus had a nose for trouble and he could see Roman getting bored in the hall. So he adjusted his posture and fixed M'Birr with his best impression of a calculating Vulcan stare. "I was instructed to obtain a sample of the product."

It was all he could do not to squirm in delight when M'Birr sighed and said, "He could have at least given you a Staff shirt. How am I supposed to sneak a member of Starfleet into Sickbay?"

"Incidentally," said Remus, still wiggling his fingers at Roman, who was pantomiming shock in his peripheral vision, "I wasn't told the name of the product."

"Like it matters," said M'Birr. "They're calling it 'kin.' How much did he tell you to move?"

Before Remus could answer, one of the communicators on the table chirped. "Voight here."

"Shaa."

"Starfleet's onto us."

Shaa side-eyed Remus, who took pains to hold completely still. "How can you be sure?"

"We've got two hitting all the stops on the trail. Not buying. Just looking. They went straight from the Help Desk to the Founder's Statue."

Remus and Roman sighed in tandem, both knowing full well it had to be Patton and Logan making their rounds on the self-guided tour.

"Not with us," Remus mouthed, looking M'Birr in the eye.

She exchanged a glance with Shaa, who shrugged briefly and addressed the communicator again. "What's the plan?"

"Dispatch. We can't let them off the planet."

"On our way." The two Caitians stood and moved toward the doorway where Remus was still standing. "Sorry, Lieutenant Commander, but we've got trouble."

Unable to help himself, Remus said, "You're just gonna leave me down here?"

"I'd think a Vulcan would know better than to cause trouble," M'Birr said pointedly. "Excuse me." She pushed past Remus, followed closely by Shaa. "And who's this?"

"Backup," said Roman, trying not to react to the sight of the two cat-like aliens before him.

M'Birr stared at him, calculating, but Shaa nudged her and said softly, "We don't have time for this."

"See yourselves out," said M'Birr. She and Shaa took off for the elevators, leaving Roman and Remus to stand awkwardly until they were out of sight.

"Drugs!" said Remus, stamping his heels on the floor and shimmying. "What did I tell you?"

"Yeah, yeah," said Roman, annoyed despite himself that Remus had gotten his way. "Can we go save our friends from getting murdered now?"

"Sure," said Remus, heading back toward the elevator, "if they haven't already died of boredom yet."

--

After receiving their specially-programmed PADDs for the self-guided tour (along with two bags of saltwater taffy), Patton and Logan had set off for the first stop on the tour.

"Ooh," said Patton, who was attempting to read, walk, and eat taffy at the same time. "There's trivia."

Logan grabbed him by the shoulder and steered him out of the way of a group of Andorians. "I believe that all the knowledge we gain here today could be referred to as 'trivia,' Doctor Kelsey."

"No, no." Patton shoved a candy wrapper in his pocket so he could use both hands to show Logan the PADD. "There's a trivia contest at the end! We should pay extra close attention."

"Noted," said Logan. "I will make an effort to keep the information in my memory banks."

"Oh, by the way." Patton navigated back to the map of Lotus Island. "You can call me Patton, you know."

"If you're sure," said Logan. "I am aware of the human concept of 'politeness' and did not wish to overstep if you were being polite when you introduced yourself."

"Nope! You really can call me Patton," Patton said cheerfully, holding up the PADD and rotating it, trying to get his bearings. "Where's Virgil when you need him?"

(Virgil was, at the moment, weighing up the benefits of crawling under the table and abandoning Janus and Sihok to their Vulcan mind games)

"Allow me to assist." Logan removed his own borrowed PADD from under his arm. "Next up is the, ah, 'Fun Wheel.'"

"That thing?" Patton asked, pointing to the massive Ferris wheel ahead of them. At their current proximity, the hulking metal contraption dominated the horizon.

"Yes," said Logan, biting back a sarcastic comment. The Captain responded well to sarcasm and Logan's communication style had evolved accordingly, but time and experience had shown that most people found Janus' sarcasm off-putting. And Logan had seen him don the mask of diplomacy, which received much better reception. So Logan decided he would be diplomatic in the hopes that it would make Patton feel at-ease. Logan did not want to be the crewmember responsible for scaring off their new CMO.

They made for the Ferris wheel, Patton still with his nose buried in the PADD. "You get more taffy for correctly answering trivia questions!"

"What could we possibly do with more taffy?" Logan asked.

"Share it with the others!"

They reached the viewing platform of the defunct Fun Wheel and both held up their PADDs to read the description.

What the PADDs did not tell them was that less than 30 guests attended the self-guided tour per Earth year and those guests that did were rarely members of Starfleet. The PADDs had also not been programmed with the knowledge that every single stop on the tour was a tradeoff point for distributors of a new drug known colloquially as 'kin,' as the scientific name was several syllables long, untranslatable from Golic Vulcan, and contained a multitude of niche phonemes.

"Do you smell that?" Logan asked, searching his memory banks for several pieces of data at once.

Patton sniffed and looked around in confusion. "The ocean?" Most of Ya'Lotus consisted of a saltwater ocean that contained no indigenous life. The sea breeze was fresh and cool and smelled, to Patton's human nose, unremarkable.

Logan shook his head. "There is a strong chemical smell emanating from the lower cabin of the Ferris wheel. I believe it may be opioid in nature."

"Opioid?" Patton sniffed and again could only smell rust and sweet ocean air. "You can get all that just from the smell?"

Logan nodded and approached the low metal fence, leaning over it to try to get a closer look at the cabin. It was caged off and covered with a fine mesh that blocked even his keen android eyesight. He cycled through his senses, again landing on smell as his best means of solving the puzzle before him. Beneath the smell of iron and grease, there was a definite tang of something other, something distinctly sedative. He wasn't specialized to identify chemicals like this, and the sensation of answers dancing just out of reach in his databank was enough to elicit an emotional reaction. He looked at Patton and crossed his arms over his chest. "Fuck."

"Whoa!" said Patton, tucking the PADD under his arm. "What's wrong?"

"Forgive me, Doct-- Patton. I am expressing frustration because I would like to know the source of the smell."

Patton leaned in over the guardrail. "Maybe it's just an industrial agent you're smelling? I can't think of any reason why opioid drugs would be anywhere near a Ferris wheel. Not here, anyway. Not on this planet."

"You're right," Logan said. "I will let it go." To emphasize this, he let go of the railing and stepped back. "Are you finished reading?"

"Yeah," said Patton, also backing up. "Let's move on."

And they turned and walked away from the first hidden kin manufacturing still on the tour.

--

By this point, Janus was fairly sure Sihok was getting at something, though he was circling around the point like a seabird waiting for the kill. It was a tactic Janus could respect, though it was decidedly un-Vulcan. Virgil, meanwhile, signaled for another round of drinks with his fingers. He too had an idea that Sihok was getting at something, and that Janus was as well. While he was admittedly inexperienced with Vulcan body language, he was reasonably sure that Janus hadn't figured it out yet. With boredom and alcohol combining in his mind, Virgil sat back and decided to try to figure it out before Janus did. Sure, he was just an Ensign, but he wasn't stupid.

At the moment, Sihok and Janus (whom Sihok insistently referred to by his Vulcan name, Chu'lak) were talking lightly about their careers.

"I thought," said Janus, drawing one fingertip around the rim of his glass, "you were studying xenobiochemistry."

"I was."

"So how did you end up here of all places?" He gestured to the room at large. Virgil, tracking the movement with his eyes, caught sight of the pinball machine and gazed longingly at it before remembering himself. "As I recall, you had a natural talent for the sciences. If you'll forgive my saying so, working security at a glorified casino seems a bit beneath you."

Sihok's expression did not change that Virgil could see, but he marked that Janus was smirking just a bit.

Sihok nodded. "I discovered in the course of my schooling that xenobiochemistry better suits me as a hobby. And, if you will permit a lapse in logic, I find the the atmosphere of Ya'Lotus most agreeable."

"You dig the vibe," Virgil blurted before he could stop himself. Janus and Sihok both stared at him and before his eyes, the expressions he had mistaken for disapproval read simply as confused. A small spark of triumph ignited in him; he was learning to understand Vulcan mannerisms.

"That didn't translate," Janus said.

"I thought you spoke Federation Standard," Virgil said.

"That was not Federation Standard."

Virgil's cheeks began to burn. "Ah, never mind. You were saying?"

"I think," said Sihok, "there is a certain beauty in mathematics. Do you agree?"

"Sure," said Janus. "But why do I get the feeling that you're not referring to fractals?"

Virgil fished a maraschino cherry out of his drink and began to bat it around the table with his fingertips.

"There is an objective beauty in symmetry," Sihok said vaguely. "No one could argue that. But it's asymmetry that has my interest. Chu'lak, answer a question for me."

"Yes?"

"Where are you staying tonight?"

Virgil stilled, his eyes flicking to Janus. He had no doubt that the question had translated oddly, that Sihok wasn't seriously propositioning Janus. But Janus had been given an opportunity to tease, and even from his limited experience aboard the Foley, Virgil knew that Janus rarely passed up an opportunity to make fun.

"I hadn't decided yet," Janus said with an arch smile, staring at Sihok under his lashes. "The Foley, I suppose, or someplace lavish if I ever make it to the casino."

Virgil resumed playing with the cherry, knowing on some level that he was behaving unprofessionally. He was just drunk enough to not care, the alcohol softening the sharp edges of his anxieties.

"Why?" Sihok asked.

"Why?" Janus repeated.

"You have everything you need on the Foley, don't you? And the free accommodations here are sufficient to sustain life? Why strive for more?"

Janus made no effort to hide his confusion. His patience was wearing thin. He had been intrigued at first by Sihok's vague enterprise, but his insistent refusal to get the point left Janus struggling for diplomacy. "I didn't think you cared for philosophy, Sihok. You've changed."

"Think it over," Sihok said.

The maraschino cherry rolled across the table. Virgil grabbed for it, having flicked it a little harder than intended, but missed, and watched in a hazy mixture of horror and amusement as it rolled off the edge of the table, hit Janus in the knee, and bounced to the floor.

"Sorry," Virgil mumbled, already ducking to grab it. Movement under the table caught his eye; Sihok adjusted his grip on something. Forgetting the cherry, Virgil eyed it curiously. It looked very like the rolls of Lifesavers that Alpha Proxima II would import from Earth, little pieces of culture to keep the colonists connected to their heritage. Virgil had preferred dark chocolate bars and later, coffee and brandy, but his mother had been quite fond of the sharp taste of spearmint Lifesavers. Whatever Sihok had a grip on was wrapped in a translucent white paper that allowed Virgil to see the colorful discs within. Not wanting to linger too long, Virgil resurfaced with the cherry and set it down on a cocktail napkin. "Sorry," he said again.

"Didn't you say you wanted to try the pinball machine?" Janus asked. He was already formulating an exit strategy, but it had never been his intention to hold Virgil hostage. Sihok was taking his time getting to his point, and this was supposed to be a welcome party for Virgil. "Here." He scooted out of the booth and stood.

"Thank you," Virgil said. He walked slowly, listening as Janus apologized and Sihok began to wax philosophical once more about the beauty of asymmetry in mathematics.

A few rounds on the Starfleet-themed pinball machine only left Virgil frustrated and half-sober, overstimulated. He didn't understand why Janus didn't just make an excuse and go. They had both been drawn in by Sihok's vague manner, but Virgil knew that his continued refusal to get to the point must have been driving Janus crazy.

The music changed to something reminiscent of heavy metal, blast beats ringing loud in Virgil's ears. He practically felt in his face: the shredding guitars, the way all the conversations became louder to compensate, the beeps of the pinball machine. Virgil had been declared mentally fit to serve in Starfleet, having proven he could push through bouts of anxiety and even thrive in high-pressure situations. But subjecting himself to the torment of this noisy bar was unpleasant and wholly unnecessary, so he turned and followed signs for the bathroom.

Once inside, he leaned back against one of the cool metal walls, heedless of the potential for infection. He had been vaccinated for just about everything under the sun upon joining Starfleet and he doubted any pathogen on Lotus Island could make it through his defenses.

The door opened and shut and a human stepped in, eyed Virgil up and down. "You look like you could use a chill pill."

It was old vernacular, slang Virgil had picked up at the Academy, because no one on Alpha Proxima II talked like that. He was quiet for a moment, wondering if this stranger was merely using a turn of phrase or if they were, in fact, stupid enough to offer drugs to a member of Starfleet. He decided on the former. "Am I that obvious?"

"You're about to chew a hole in your lip," the stranger said. "Look, you're already bleeding."

Virgil had long grown used to the taste of iron on the tip of his tongue. "It's just a little loud out there."

"I've got meds that can help with that," the stranger said.

Virgil blinked and reassessed: they really were that dumb. "I'm Starfleet," he said incredulously, glancing down at his yellow tunic in case he had somehow taken it off and forgotten about it.

"So what, you're not allowed to cut loose a little? You're on vacation."

Virgil scoffed and let the back of his head rest on the wall, marveling at the audacity of this strange human.

To buy himself time, he walked over to the sink and began to wash his hands. A plan was beginning to form in Virgil's head, neurons firing and making connections. He steeled himself and turned back to the stranger. "How much?"

--

"So, and just so I'm crystal clear on this," Remus said, stomping along beside Roman with his unstyled mohawk ruffled by the breeze, "our heroic plan to rescue Patton and Logan is to take the guided tour?"

"Oh, shut up." Roman backed away from the Help Desk and shoved the PADD at Remus. "Ugh, I don't understand maps at all. Where's Virgil when you need him?"

(Answer: Making a drug deal in the bathroom of the Tier III Lounge).

Remus studied the PADD. Roman had already set the translation to Romulan, but it was crude and hard to navigate. "Man of metals?" he asked, squinting.

"Oh, nevermind." Roman snatched the PADD back and began to walk. "It's the Founder's Statue. It's made of titanium and platinum. Get it?"

"Well, that's a terrible translation," Remus grumbled.

"Maybe you should learn Federation Standard," Roman nagged. This was far from the first argument they'd had about it and he already knew that Remus would refuse point-blank, masking his frustration and insecurity behind stubbornness. Remus had none of his brother's knack for languages, and while he was a talented engineer, he'd always struggled with his classes far more than Roman had.

"Maybe the Federation should start using Romulan," Remus shot back, and changed the subject before Roman could escalate the argument. "You never answered my question. What's the plan?"

"We need to catch up with either Patton and Logan or, uh… the Caitians."

"Shaa," Remus said with unnecessary smugness, pleased to have something on Roman, "and M'Birr."

"Sure."

They were both out of breath by the time they reached the Founder's Statue, both privately regretting the decision to wear heeled boots. The marginal boost to their height still left them the shortest members of the crew, a fact for which Janus loved to tease them.

"Onward to the next one," Roman said, looking around and seeing no one. He held up the PADD, and Remus peered over his shoulder.

"Rotation wheel," Remus read in Romulan. He looked up at the towering Ferris wheel in the near distance. "Well, that shouldn't be too hard to find."

"It's called a Ferris wheel," Roman complained. "It's a proper noun. Why would they try to translate that?"

Remus paused so he could stamp his foot. "Focus."

"Yeah, yeah." Roman tucked the PADD under his arm.

They caught sight of the two Caitians just after the Ferris wheel and pulled back to avoid being spotted.

"They have guns!" Remus said, a touch too loud even for his own liking. "Real guns! Not phasers!"

"Speaking of…" Roman sighed and touched his hip where his phaser and communicator would sit. Weapons were not allowed anywhere on Ya'Lotus and communication was restricted to their own official channels. "What are we supposed to do?"

"Vulcan nerve pinch?" Remus reached over and grabbed Roman's neck.

Roman stared at him, unamused. "Right, so we'll just try to stay out of a fight. Maybe if we can get around them, we can catch Logan and Patton and, uh… Well, get the Captain, I guess."

"Running off to get Daddy at the first sign of trouble," Remus sighed. "This is why I got promoted and you didn't."

"Yes, that's why. Not because you were the only one stupid enough to risk bleaching the Captain's eyebrows for him."

"Only chemical burned him one time!" Remus said proudly. "Where are we going, by the way?"

"Oh." Roman consulted the PADD. "Banana stand."

"What's a--"

"Walk and talk."

Remus shook Roman's hand off his shoulder. "What's that?"

"It's a kind of Earth fruit. I'm sure they have them here, since the founder of Ya'Lotus was human."

"Boring," said Remus. "Race you!" He took off running, moving awkwardly in his heeled boots. Roman sighed, looked around, and grabbed a tandem bike. It was not the most dignified form of transportation on the island, but it was one he happened to be familiar with. He and Remus both had a bit of a fascination with human history: Remus specializing in weaponry and warfare and Roman preferring to study courtship rituals. He mounted the bike with only a little difficulty, found his balance, and pedaled after Remus

"C'mon, get on."

"Oh!" said Remus happily, not even bothered by the direct order. "It's like a motorcycle with pedals!"

"How have you heard of a motorcycle but not a banana?"

"Will you focus?" Remus flicked Roman's shoulder blade. "You are now officially the Navigator and Helmsman of the Federation vessel Gemini."

"Subtle." Roman would have rolled his eyes, but between trying to steer and keep an eye on the PADD, didn't want to risk it. "What does that make you?"

"The Captain, obviously," Remus said. Roman put his head down as they pedaled by Shaa and M'Birr, but Remus whooped and flashed them a rude hand sign.

"Are you trying to get us killed?" Roman wheezed, a little winded from having to haul both his and Remus' weight. "Fucking pedal!"

"Don't talk to your captain like that," Remus said, giving the pedals a few half-hearted turns.

"Could you at least take this a little seriously? Our crewmates are in danger!"

"Oh," said Remus, kicking his feet out, "guns aren't that dangerous. Not compared to phasers."

Roman just huffed and didn't answer. He steered them to the banana stand without incident and, upon seeing Patton and Logan about to leave, dived off the bike to reach them. Ignoring Remus' annoyed cries behind him, he sprinted over to his wayward crewmates. "Hey!"

"Roman," said Logan, glancing over at Patton in surprise. "You appear to be in distress."

"We gotta get out of here," Roman said in Romulan. Despite the universal translator, he usually switched to Federation Standard out of politeness when speaking with Logan and their human crewmates (though Patton's native language was Welsh), but he was too stressed at the moment to try to switch gears.

Behind him, Remus cursed and examined his left palm, which he had thrown out to break his fall when the bike had tipped. "I'm gonna kill you."

"Kill me later!" Roman shouted back. "We gotta go!" He wrapped his arms around Patton and Logan's waists and started to steer them toward the crowded boardwalk. "Remus!"

"I'm bleeding!" Remus said, scampering to meet them.

"You are?" Patton stopped and turned, ignoring Roman's cursing. "Is it bad?"

"Kiss it better?" Remus asked, batting his lashes.

Roman dragged his hands down his face. "Do you want to get in a gunfight with-- Oh, don't answer that. Of course you do."

"Forgive me, Lieutenant, did you say gunfight?" Logan asked, extricating himself from Roman's slackening grip.

"We don't have time for this!" Roman stamped his foot to try to get Remus' attention, but he was too busy playing up his injury for Patton. He only had a few minor scrapes across his palm, a few dots of green blood here and there.

"Roman, I must insist that you explain," Logan said. "I understand that you are agitated, but if you simply explain the situation, I'm sure we can--"

"We don't have time!" Roman interrupted. "Is it not enough to know that we're in danger?" He turned to his brother, desperation shining in his eyes. "Back me up on this."

"Maybe you should have thought about that before you tried to murder your superior officer," Remus said as Patton continued to pick bits of gravel out of his palm.

Along the path, Roman caught sight of the Caitians. Their pace was quick but not frantic as they scanned the horizon for their target, hands on their guns. Roman whispered an untranslatable swear word and made a decision.

Abandoning his crewmates, he straightened, crossed his arms behind his back, and strode forward to meet M'Birr and Shaa.

"Greetings" he said, trying not to let his voice tremble.

"You again?" said Shaa, crossing her arms. "Where's your partner?"

Roman swallowed. "After some discussion, we agreed it would be logical to interfere on your behalf."

"How so?" M'Birr asked. She frowned at Roman, her eyes scanning him.

"We acted under the belief that Starfleet officers would be more likely to trust other Starfleet officers. As you can see, we were correct. We have gained their trust and ascertained that they are not aware of the operation." Shaa tilted her head, and Roman felt compelled to add, "Vulcans do not lie."

"If you're really Vulcans," M'Birr said, still eyeing him with wide-pupiled green eyes. "And not, say, Romulans."

Roman forced his face to remain impassive. "That is an easy mistake to make, particularly if one is not familiar--"

"Oh, shut up." M'Birr drew her gun. "We can take care of all four of you."

Roman's pulse and breathing quickened, his vision narrowing to a very small spot, centering on the matte black of M'Birr's handgun. It was bulkier than a phaser and, he reminded himself, less deadly. He stared at the barrel, mind formulating and discarding half-formed plans for escape. Regardless of what Remus had said, he really didn't want to get shot.

What Roman did not see in his narrow-minded panic, was Remus abandoning Patton and flanking his brother and his assailants. He also did not see Patton flanking the other side, nor did he notice Logan appropriating a golf cart from a confused family of humans.

Remus flew into Roman's field of vision and tackled M'Birr, followed shortly by Patton who dropped Shaa with a sweeping kick to the knees. Adrenaline kicked in and Roman grabbed Remus by the wrist and hauled him up, spotted the golf cart, and dived for it. Patton beat them there and swung around to the passenger seat.

"Go, go, go!" they all shrieked, and Logan obediently stepped on the accelerator. The golf cart began to roll forward at a leisurely pace.

"Oh, are you kidding me?" Roman demanded.

"It's okay!" Remus said. He had turned so he could peer out the back, and was happy to see Shaa and M'Birr still struggling on the ground. "Dang, Patton, I think you broke Shaa's leg."

"Don't say that!" Patton wrapped his arms around himself and instead turned his attention to Roman. "What was that all about, anyway?"

Roman explained, punctuated by interjections from Remus. This concluded with Remus sitting back in his seat with a huff. "I can't believe nobody got shot."

"Should we have confiscated their guns?" Patton wondered out loud.

"Hopefully security will deal with them," Logan said. "Does anyone know where the Tier III Lounge is, by the way? I've been making evasive maneuvers, and now I am unsure--"

"So we're lost," Remus interrupted. "Possibly with more assassins after us, if the kitties called for backup."

Roman rested his forehead against the back of Patton's seat. "I hope the Captain is having a better day than we are."

--

Despite the lack of immediate danger, Janus was having a much worse day than the whole of his crew, save perhaps Virgil, who was still negotiating his drug deal in the bathroom.

"So you see," Sihok was saying, his drink nearly untouched, "an asymmetrical system is beautiful not only for those at the top, but for those at the bottom by instilling hope in them that they might someday reach the top."

"Capitalism," said Janus, bored. "You just described capitalism."

"Perhaps I did," Sihok said, and displayed the Vulcan equivalent of a guarded smile.

Janus masked his utter confusion behind raucous laughter. "Sihok, what exactly are you implying?"

"Nothing at all," said Sihok primly. "I was merely displaying my admiration for the artful execution of a certain style of economics."

That was when Virgil emerged from the bathroom clutching a roll of tablets, the drug known as 'kin.' It was identical to the one Sihok was holding, and the implications of this turned his stomach. Sihok was head of security for the whole of Ya'Lotus, and the way he had spoken to Janus had implied that he was after something, though Virgil had no idea what it could be.

Virgil hurried over to the table, heart racing in anticipation of what he was about to do. He had information that Janus might need and he couldn't speak it out loud. After hearing he had been assigned to the Foley, he had made a point to study the biology and abilities of Vulcans, though he had no idea what telepathic abilities Janus might have inherited as a human-Vulcan hybrid, and a genetic anomaly at that. Virgil was taking a risk, one that might draw the Captain's ire or make him look foolish, which was as dire a consequence to Virgil as death.

He approached the booth and, before Janus could get up, gently rested his hand on Janus' shoulder.

Janus froze. Sihok marked this, and Virgil noticed him notice. Dread trickled down his spine like cold water. "Excuse me, Captain," he said weakly.

"Bored already?" Janus asked. He directed an amused look at Sihok and said, "The human attention span," in a tone of patient exhaustion, then got up to let Virgil in.

Virgil was careful not to brush up against Sihok's legs, but he could tell that Sihok was staring as he scooted back up against the wall. Despite Janus' lack of reaction, he had a sneaking suspicion that his plan had worked too well and that not only Janus, but Sihok as well had picked up on the information he had transmitted.

They all lingered for a moment in a silent standoff. It was Janus who broke the silence, laughing again and rolling his eyes. "I have to say, Sihok, I'm a little disappointed. And offended, if I'm being honest." He took the roll of kin from Virgil and set it on the table. "You're pushing a capitalist drug empire on a pleasure planet. What was the master plan? To establish a capitalist regime within the Federation with you at the top? How un-Vulcan."

Sihok ignored the slight. "I had intended to offer you a partnership. Are you declining?"

"Was that not obvious?" Janus asked, abandoning the last of his pretense at Vulcan restraint. "Not only am I declining, I'm calling you an idiot. Sihok, you are an idiot and a disgrace to the planet Vulcan, and I don't mean that as a compliment. I suppose now you're going to kill us before we can report you to Starfleet?"

"Yes," said Sihok.

"How?" asked Janus. "We're sitting down. Do you want to arm wrestle us to death?" Sihok took a breath to speak and Janus cut him off, "Don't even think about your phaser. Sure, you could get one of us, at which point the other would disarm you."

"Well," said Sihok, "it seems we have reached an impasse."

Virgil took another risk. "May I?" he asked, nodding at Sihok's drink. "You haven't touched it and if I'm going down today, I'm going down drinking."

"Control your crewman," Sihok said to Janus, deadly serious.

Virgil took the drink. "Thanks." He held onto the tumbler, using the numbing ache of chilled glass against his palm to ground himself.

"So," said Janus, disregarding Virgil, "an impasse."

"About that," said Sihok. "Your Ensign is new to Starfleet; you said so earlier." He drew his phaser and aimed it at Janus. "I do not believe he has the capacity to disarm me, especially as he has been drinking and his reaction time will be slowed."

Thinking that now was as good a time as any, Virgil touched Janus' leg and splashed his drink in Sihok's face. They both scrambled out of the booth and sprinted out the door. They paused for a moment to get their bearings, and that was when a golf cart plowed into Virgil at a speed equivalent to 10 miles per hour.

Logan hit the brake and reversed so as not to run over Virgil's legs. "Forgive me, Ensign Salem. Are you alright?"

Roman, who hadn't picked his head up from the back of Patton's seat, began to lightly tap his forehead against the metal support bar. "Please tell me you didn't just kill our Helmsman when we need him most."

Virgil scrambled to his feet, too full of adrenaline to register any serious pain. "We gotta get out of here."

"You too, huh?" Remus said. He patted the seat next to him and addressed Janus. "Climb aboard."

Janus hopped on and was forced to sit on Remus' lap. Unruffled, he barked, "Ensign Salem, evasive maneuvers. Now."

Virgil hopped into the driver's seat, which Logan had recently vacated, waited for Logan to clamber onto the back of the golf cart, and slammed down the accelerator. "Where to?"

"Evasive maneuvers, Ensign Salem. Let's lose our pursuers before we worry about a destination."

"Yes, sir." Virgil pulled around the back of the Tier III Lounge just as a dripping-wet Sihok emerged, phaser drawn. The chase that ensued was unremarkable, as the golf cart began to pick up speed while emitting a worrisome whining noise.

"I made some adjustments to the engine while we were moving," Remus said proudly.

"That's impossible," Janus answered.

"I said that, too," Logan said.

Virgil continued to steer them in concentric circles around Lotus Island, self-assessing now that he was calmer. He could already feel the dull ache of impending bruises on his hip and elbow, but the damage seemed minimal.

"So," said Roman, "who are you evading?"

"Oh," said Janus, feigning boredom, "just a would-be capitalist drug lord Vulcan hellbent on murdering us. You?"

Roman put the pieces together. "Said Vulcan's lackeys, also hellbent on murdering us."

"Oh!" said Patton and Logan simultaneously, albeit for very different reasons: Patton to express dismay and concern, Logan realizing why he had smelled opioids earlier.

"You're welcome, by the way," Remus said, addressing Patton since he was easier to reach. "Those Caitians were after you and Logan."

"Thanks," Patton said weakly. "You know, I'm not feeling very relaxed."

Janus looked around and, seeing no trace of either murderous Caitians or murderous Vulcans, leaned forward to address Virgil. "Set a course for the Transporter Building, departures terminal. Let's get the Hell out of here."

--

After making some arrangements on the viewing deck, Janus arranged for Virgil and Patton to be summoned from their rooms, where they had both gone to decompress. Virgil and Remus had first been strongarmed into going to Sickbay, where Patton looked them over and pronounced them fit for duty.

Remus was showing off his bandaged hand to Janus and regaling him with a greatly embellished tale of how he had received the injury when the doors slid open and Virgil and Patton appeared.

Patton came in first, Virgil lingering behind him. "Aw!" he said, looking around at the array of alcohol and finger foods arranged picnic-style on the floor. "What's this?"

"It's your welcome party," Janus explained. "Since Ya'Lotus didn't quite work out. Come sit."

Patton sat down next to Logan, leaving Virgil to occupy the empty space next to Janus. Janus offered him half a smile. "You did well today, Virgil. You may even have saved my life." He paused, then added, "Although I probably still could have disarmed Sihok before he got the shot off. Regardless." He poured Virgil a glass of bourbon. "Thank you, Ensign Salem. You did well."

"Yay, Virgil!" Patton said happily.

After ensuring that everyone had drinks, Janus regained command of everyone's attention and raised his glass. "A toast to honor our new crewmates. Virgil Salem, Patton Kelsey." He looked at them in turn. "Welcome aboard the Foley."

[translations-by-aiimee]

Dig a Grave to Dig Out a Ghost - Chapter 5

Original Title: 挖坟挖出鬼

Genres: Drama, Horror, Mystery, Supernatural, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 5 - Expert

The subsequent calm was something Lin Yan wasn't expecting. The thing seemed to have decided it tortured him enough and nothing else happened the rest of the night. Lin Yan changed back into his clothes and unplugged his computer. Even though he knew that that probably wouldn't do anything, the screen actually powered off and didn't come back on at all in the night.

Perhaps a new storm was brewing in the silence, but Lin Yan was too exhausted to worry about it. The alcohol that was left in his system worked as a great tranquillizer, and he rolled over and fell asleep.

While he was deep in sleep, something cold pressed itself on his lips again, but Lin Yan was too much a heavy sleeper to realize it.

When he woke up, the entire room was clean. All the red paint had disappeared, the light gray printed wallpaper and the screen wall painted by the students of the Academy of Fine Arts were intact, and the glass was spotless. There was no other evidence to prove that the absurdity of last night had ever happened except for the shameful traces of liquid on Lin Yan's body and clothes. He took a bath and threw the red clothes into the washbowl. Compared with the power of the invisible thing, he was clearly at a disadvantage. Instead of running around without a plan, it was better to observe what happens as things unravel.

After he finished packing things up, Lin Yan took out his phone and texted Yin Zhou about the meeting place. Unexpectedly, he got a reply almost instantly: See you at the school gate in half an hour.

Lin Yan looked at himself in the mirror. Within just two nights, he looked like he had been doing drugs for years, he had a scruffy stubble growing, and his eyes were red. The mint scent of his shaving foam made Lin Yan feel for the first time that his typically monotonous life was actually so much more beautiful than that. The blade was thin and sharp. Just one long stroke across his neck and there would be nothing left.

Humans were such fragile creatures.

"Shit. . ." Lin Yan hissed, sighing at his unfortunate luck and put his fingers under the water. His hand had slipped and he sliced his fingertip on the blade, red blood seeping out. Lin Yan wrapped a bandaid around his finger, leaning against the wall and pondering about how unlucky it was to feel the pain.

He didn't know what kind of dye was used on the funeral clothes, but it had bled dramatically in the water. After a while, the whole basin of water had been dyed red. Lin Yan glanced at it in disgust as he left and slammed the door shut.

At 8 o'clock, Lin Yan saw Yin Zhou holding a Scallion pancake and some fruit in front of the school gate.

The two of them regretted trying to drive. The roads were clogged with morning rush hour traffic to the point that they couldn't even see the end of the lines of cars. What genius designed this kind of urban roundabout? Five ring roads surrounded the main road and they were forced to convene together every morning and night.

Lin Yan and Yin Zhou were nearing the third ring road and they still didn't have any temper, so all they could do was turn on the radio and eat the breakfast that Yin Zhou brought.

"A 13-year-old boy from a remote village in Sichuan was found hanged at home wearing a red coat. The locals suspected it was most likely cult-related. It is reported that the boy's time of birth and time of death are both extremely negative times and very suitable for. . ."

Lin Yan snapped the radio off.

It seemed that everything in the world had been messed up overnight. Even this kind of unreliable news could be relayed to the public.

Yin Zhou didn't care. He swallowed the last bite of his pancake and hiccuped. He said with satisfaction: "I spent the rest of the night in the library. I was starving and I couldn't buy anything. It's great to feel full."

"There was no exam recently, what were you doing at the library?"

"I was studying the enemy's intelligence. This enemy works in the dark. Can we defeat it if we understand how it operates? What do you think, buddy?"

Lin Yan turned his face to look at the crowded traffic outside the window. He stayed silent for a while before he said softly, "Do you really believe that there are ghosts in this world? I feel like something is wrong with me. Maybe I should see a psychiatrist first."

Yin Zhou's eyes widened in surprise: "Come on, even if something's up with you, I'm totally normal, yet we both saw those clothes yesterday."

". . . At your house the day before yesterday, I was the only one who thought it was cold, and I was the only one who could feel ‘it’ in the house."

Lin Yan sorted out his thoughts and told Yin Zhou his experience of being choked by someone last night.

Lin Yan wasn't expecting it but Yin Zhou exploded after hearing this, and blurted out: "Fuck, that ghost was a rabbit master* during his lifetime?" He scanned Lin Yan's face over and over again: "Little Brother Lin, don't tell me. . . you can be considered a nice-looking guy if you look closely. He's dead and maybe he's lonely and wants to recruit you as his wife."

*because they would kill the rabbit by snapping its neck

"Fuck you. If you aren't going to be serious, get out of my car and leave. Don't forget to burn two boxes of condoms for me when I croak." Lin Yan said quietly. The car behind him honked its horn twice, and Lin Yan realized that while he was talking, a 5-6 metre gap had cleared in front of him. He hurriedly followed the line of traffic.

"Furthermore, in the middle of the night, I obviously saw that the whole house was covered with red paint, but in the morning there was nothing. It was as if I had been dreaming."

Yin Zhou dragged the backpack out of the back seat and hugged it in his arms. He said, "Hey, let me show you the results of my brother's research." As he talked, he opened his bag and took out a dozen crumpled papers from it and spread them out on his knees. He flattened them with his hands and started going over them from top to bottom.

"You can't take care of shit. I feel uncomfortable just looking at those."

"See, the attributes of a wife. This ghost saw it perfectly."

A grass mud horse roared and ran across Lin Yan's heart.

Sure enough, these geeks are something else.

"Listen carefully." Yin Zhou pushed up his glasses with his long fingers: "There are generally two modern interpretations of ghosts. The first is due to the discovery of dark matter. You know the law of conservation of energy?"

". . . Go on." Lin Yan gave him a blank look.

"The universe expands at a certain rate every year. If the law of conservation of energy goes as normal, where does the energy that supports the expansion of the universe come from? According to this question, modern physics puts forward the concept of dark matter and dark energy. It does not generate electromagnetic waves, cannot be sensed, and cannot be measured. The law of gravity estimates that dark matter and energy account for 96% of the mass of the universe, and the remaining 4% is what humans can now recognize."

"Many unexplainable phenomena are therefore attributed to the results of dark matter, such as meridians in traditional Chinese medicine, the power of the mind, and ghosts. There are many discussions on this field abroad, but it is obviously blocked in China and difficult to find." Yin Zhou spread out his hands.

Lin Yan nodded. This was a bit like a science fiction novel he had read once.

"And the second one?"

"The second type is attributed to electromagnetic waves. The environment in which the deceased died is not conducive to electromagnetic wave attenuation. The powerful thoughts it had before death form a unique energy field. If a person's own frequency is similar to it, it will resonate when they come into contact. The waveform of the original ghost is greatly strengthened so then the two can sense each other."

Lin Yan was stunned: "You mean I. . . resonate with the ghost?"

Yin Zhou said indifferently that it was possible. He turned and smiled mysteriously: "Do you know how to explain love at first sight using electromagnetic fields?"

Lin Yan's heart stuttered.

"It's just resonating. It's the same with both men and women."

Yin Zhou sighed: "I don't want to fall in love for a while. It's boring, it's like a ghost."

The cars finally started moving again, and they finally got off the third road ring after being stuck for three hours. Lin Yan turned on the navigation and stepped on the accelerator to hurry towards the destination.

He always thinks that love was just like a ghost; he didn't believe in either. He only understood the panic and anxiety he felt when he encountered it, but he has never imagined that ghosts were also like love, triggered by a specific reason in a specific environment and dragged forcibly into the abyss, unable to escape.

"Have you been in touch with anything special recently, or have you been to anywhere special?"

Lin Yan thought about it for a moment and shook his head: "No. Every day I'm in the study room, tutor's office, library, home, cafeteria, there's nowhere else. But I have come into a lot of contact with lots of things from several dynasties."

Yin Zhou clumped the pile of information in his hand, and put it into back his backpack despite Lin Yan's contemptuous eyes, and clicked the buckle shut.

"Impossible. The electromagnetic waves would have decayed early in a small object, even if the Maoshan technique was used."

A thought suddenly flashed through Lin Yan's mind.

"There was this one place. . .Last month, my old man arranged an internship position for me on an archaeological team. It was a tomb with small specifications. I was there for less than a week."

Yin Zhou's eyes lit up all of a sudden: "There's this show, we should wait and check it. . . what the fuck!"

Lin Yan slammed on the brakes. Yin Zhou's head slammed into the windshield with a bang, and he wailed in pain.

"What are you doing?! Braking like that is going to kill you. What if we got rear-ended?!"

Lin Yan looked at the empty windshield in shock. He pulled the car over and, when he turned to Yin Zhou, his face changed.

"You. . . didn't see that just now?"

"What!" Yin Zhou took off the glasses that had been knocked off-kilter, trying to push them into their original spot, and couldn't help complaining in grief.

"There was a hand. . . stretching down from the roof of the car."

Yin Zhou was stunned and looked up at the window glass cautiously. A truck came up from behind, went around their car and drove on.

Lin Yan was too scared to speak for a while. He recalled the stiff white hand that had slapped on the windshield from the roof of the car just now, but it disappeared in a blink of an eye. There were speeding trucks or tankers everywhere on the sixth ring road. He opened his mouth and looked at Yin Zhou. The other party understood his thoughts immediately. Yin Zhou took a breath and hesitated: "Then this thing. . . it wants a human life."

Lin Yan shook his head. He always felt that there was some motive behind everything that had happened, but he couldn't say it out loud.

They drove out of the city in a blink of an eye. The endless rows of poplar trees and the green border fields in the suburbs relaxed the tension of the two people in the car a lot. Lin Yan rolled down the car window, and the car air mixed with the fragrance of flowers and plants that poured in. Inside the car, the stuffy scent of the pancakes was blown away.

After the twist and turns the GPS took them on, the car turned onto a rugged path paved with stones. The surrounding buildings were replaced with independent bungalows and small farmyards. A yellow dog squatted on the steps and stretched its neck. Some hens gathered in groups lazily together. Every now and again, they passed by a white goose on the side of the road. Lin Yan slowed down and stared at the map displayed on the GPS. He glanced at Yin Zhou distrustfully.

"If I keep going, I'll have to turn around to go back to the village. Did your mother send us to a reclusive expert?"

Yin Zhou leaned over to study the map, then turned his head in confusion and looked out the window. He happened to pass by a house, a yellow mud bungalow, with a faded couplet on the door. The old man in front of it only lost two front teeth, and he was leaning back to watch the excitement. . Yin Zhou scratched his scalp suspiciously: "The address my mother gave is at the end of the village, and she said it was amazing. Let me buy some tributes to bring with me. I can't do it alone."

So Lin Yan stopped the car when passing by the market, and bought two gifts according to Yin Zhou's suggestion. . . that bastard.

"Are you sure about all this?" Lin Yan looked embarrassedly left and right, carrying a live turtle in one hand and walking back, Yin Zhou happily pointed at the turtle's head and said, "What do you know? , These kinds of psychic masters rely on this stuff to keep up with their lifestyle. Trust me."

Lin Yan threw the two bastards into the trunk, took out a bottle of mineral water and handed it to Yin Zhou. He also opened a bottle for himself and took a few sips.

The country cicadas cried one after another, and the green wheat was headed; it was a wonderful scene of peace and prosperity.

Several children wearing red and green were squatting on the ground playing fan cards not far away. Lin Yan asked Yin Zhou: "What did your mother saw that name of the expert was? I'll ask around."

He couldn't help but imagine a scene of a bamboo hut with a mantle drooping in front of the porch. An old man in white with his hand stroked his beard and smiled slightly. He and Yin Zhou knelt forward on one knee, clasping their fists and begging, "Master, please guide me!"

Yin Zhou took a note from his pocket. He squinted at it, and said perplexedly: "Second Immortal Gu."

Before Lin Yan had enough time to swallow, all the water was spat back out.

"Ahem. . . is that so?"

In a small courtyard in the northeast corner of the village, Lin Yan and Yin Zhou found the legendary Second Immortal Gu’s house. When Lin Yan saw Second Immortal Gu's respectable face from outside the door, the regret in his heart was like torrential rapids. There was an enclave in an empty black room; he didn't know which god was being worshipped. An old woman in blue flower cloth sat cross-legged on the futon with her eyes closed and rests her mind. The red cloth strip that was tied to her forehead was quite imposing.

"This posture rivals some of the best dancers out there!" Yin Zhou pointed at the scene inside and couldn't help muttering softly.

"Come on, this is who your mother mentioned. Be respectful." Lin Yan said embarrassedly.

"What should we do?"

"Let's take a look first. Maybe the real person hasn't shown up."

Lin Yan and Yin Zhou walked through the door. Hearing the movement, the immortal woman lifted her eyelids slightly, and hummed from her nose aimlessly.

"Oh, ahem. . ." Yin Zhou couldn't hold back his grin and quickly concealed it with a cough.

What happened later was a farce. After receiving the turtle and two hundred yuan brought by Lin Yan, the woman suddenly became energetic. She worshipped the gods with incense and poured a bowl of clear water on Lin Yan while muttering words. After turning around Lin Yan more than ten times, she finally opened his eyes sharply. Lin Yan was so frightened by her that his body was shocked. The only thing she did was shout: "Aha! I saw it!"

"There is a little girl standing behind you!"

Lin Yan and Yin Zhou looked at each other, each holding their breaths.

"Oh, this baby girl died terribly. She said that she was locked up and could not be born. She didn't have money to buy clothes, and she didn't have money to pay her way through death. That's why she's gotten involved with you. . ."

"Wait, I'll ask her how to resolve this. . ."

The immortal woman closed her eyes and began to sing. Lin Yan pointed at the door to Yin Zhou and said: "Do you need someone to grease your feet, what are you waiting for?"

After reciting a long list of words, she opened her eyes and saw that there were no longer two other people in the room.

The immortal woman had no choice but to touch the newly collected two hundred yuan and shook her head, muttering that the young people nowadays are really impatient. Then she staggered around to pack her things up.

When she picked up the bastard turtle, she couldn't help but give a long sigh.

[whatmack]

how unreliable a narrator do you think neil is in terms of his looks lol. neil thinks he looks "plain and average" w the contacts/black hair (more evidence for brown neil, w ginger hair/blue eyes being NOT average!) but then most other characters comment on how cute/hot he is 🤔🤔

Mm! So I’m going to start with a couple base assumptions– I guess they’re closer to hypotheses–about the human landscape surrounding Neil in Palmetto, that the other characters would be comparing him to.1) Most college students look good. I don’t mean most college students look well-rested, or dressed up; the opposite, actually. When I was in college we were all doing obscene things to our bodies, from the general oppression of unbearable stress to lack of sleep to horrendous diets to not going to the doctor to an, uh, inadvisable degree of alcohol consumption– but we basically looked good, even rolling up to class in holey sweats and unbrushed hair.As much as people would think they looked awful, we were all young adults and my baseline for what looked “fine” definitely was raised in college because a nineteen year old on no sleep (usually) looks worlds better than a forty year old with no sleep*; when you’re younger there’s more resilience (and also American beauty culture sets the baseline of beauty at youth, which is fucked up– but this isn’t the post for that). So we’re assuming that the characters are surrounded by basically attractive people. 2) The Foxes take better care of their bodies than most college students. Again, this is not to say they all take *good* care of their bodies– insomnia and alcohol consumption come to mind–but all of them, even Andrew, would need to give their bodies at least some of the nutrients they need because (as I learned my freshman year) if you try to be intensively active on the average college student diet your body will physically give out. As in literally collapse.The Foxes also get regular exercise, and shower at least once a day during the week. Now, most sports aren’t particularly good for your body (and Exy doesn’t seem like it goes the way of water yoga), but for most people any exercise is better than none as far as your parts and organs working well, and your parts and organs working well usually makes you look better. Even as fucked up as the Foxes are they’re definitely getting a workout. So what surprises me is not that people find Neil attractive– not to be a raging pansexual but basically everyone I went to college with was attractive, and if I thought otherwise it was because I was in a bad mood–but that people find him more attractive than the rest of the Foxes, because as far as looks go Neil is doing pretty much everything he can to sabotage himself. He shows up. He’s underfed (though that soon changes, but Nicky DOES find him good-looking when he first arrives and I’d argue so does Andrew). He’s at literally-sure-he’s-going-to-be-murdered stress level. He’s got box-dyed hair; box dye is usually one flat color, and as many people have pointed out Neil’s hair must be one big crispy frizzball after his frequent re-dyeings and his definite lack of conditioner. He’s got colored contacts in. Colored contacts often look– odd– because for most sighted people at least, your natural irises react to stimuli and emotion, but colored contacts don’t.  He’s in worn clothes hideous even by 2000’s standards. They’re baggy and hide whatever muscle Exy has given him. He probably washes his face with bar soap if he washes it at all.He keeps getting beat up/tortured. He doesn’t smile. He isn’t kind (how many people have you decided were not cute at all, actually, after they acted an ass?). And aside from when people make him, he isn’t trying to be attractive, not even subconsciously: he doesn’t swing, and he doesn’t want people to look at him.   He’s doing almost all of the “wrong” things and yet people still find him attractive enough to comment on and even pursue.So even if people are being kind, even if him being the new guy means people are attracted to the novelty….evidence points to Neil being fucking stunning.Now imagine how Andrew reacts when Neil actually starts to try.*It occurred to me after writing this that this is incredibly subjective, and might be rather rude. Perhaps the reason I’m most attracted to young adults is because I am one; so there’s a third sub-assumption that the young adults attracted to Neil generally think young adults are the most attractive age group. If any of the young adults attracted to Neil find an older age group the most attractive, then hey! That’s proof of Neil’s super-beauty in a different way! Whichever way you slice it, Neil standing out from the crowd means he’s got to be special

[mauserfrau]

Mau's Very Silly Headcanon Post

Since I have two pieces of fiction going live this weekend and they’re both going to be late due to butting into each other XD.

I did another one here and there’s going to be some overlap, but less bodily function stuff in this one (mostly spit) (also some vague references to medical trauma).

A lot of this is small potatoes because I didn’t want to spoil anything.  How Phaseleech actually works ends up being a plot point in what I have pending, so I actually can’t just come out and say what’s going on.  That said, I’m sure there are people here who want to know what’s on my mind, but who don’t want to sit through 50K words with half a dozen squick warnings.

That said: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mauser_Frau

Questions welcome, about this, anything else I think about Borderlands, what exactly is in Chapter 13 of Satellite, if it’s true the one flashback actually happened to Mom... 

Both

-Look, the only thing I did that’s appreciably off-canon is let them have emotions.  Maybe I drove into left field with what those emotions were, but that’s really all anybody’s got to do to fix this situation.  Go with the deity of your choice.  

-If I was headed for a Gearbox ending, it would be for the scrapped one, not the one we got.  See this and this other thing.

>>>I would still have written the twins as having something resembling a meaningful relationship regardless of whether that turned out romantic or not.  As things went and are, them as a couple was something I knew how to write and my mom shipped them (no, I’m not kidding).  

-I’m not going for a canon ending.  Mercy, did I find a thread I could snap and take the whole sweater out.  

-Both had blue siren markings when they were born; Troy’s turned red after they were separated.

--Which was a complicated mess-- they were upside-down verses each other and had several secondary adhesions, the most notable of which was Tyreen’s face to Troy’s thigh.

---Leda never 100% recovered from the emotional or physical trauma, but she put on a brave face for the last sevenish years of her life.  

---Troy’s tissue loss was severe and left him with a notable pit in his upper right side.

---Tyreen also has heavy scarring running from her right armpit to her right hip.  It’s not as complex, but it is very visible.  Missing a fair amount of intestine compared to the average human, but this has apparently never bothered her beyond the fact that visiting the toilet when you don’t eat is not fun.

-Semi-identical twins. Have 82.5% of their genes in common.  LSS, neither one is a parasite.  They’re two sperm plus one egg and they didn’t divide right.

--Ms. Phaseleech* didn’t know any better.  #oops  

--If you get them relaxed enough, they will indeed curl up together in their “fish” position.

-Tyreen is the one who would wail first if separated from her brother when they were very small, but they don’t like being apart even as adults.  

-Both very well-read, used to recite The Odyssey to congregants instead of scripture (‘cause they didn’t have any scripture). 

-Good to excellent hunters. Depends what they’re hunting and if they’re together.  Prefer to go barefoot if there’s no one else around.

-The circumstances surrounding Leda’s death are appreciably worse than fanon baseline to the point I don’t think I ought to leave them lying around in a Tumblr post.  

-Both have wavy hair if they don’t iron the daylights out of it.

-Prefer to be on the road and around people, even if a fair amount of those people are going to end up dinner.

-Get weirdly soft-hearted around kids, especially little boys with a similar complexion to their own.

-Do they have any concept that they’re horrible people? Yes, but it’s very academic and not something that motivates them.  You’d be way more likely to hear them frame themselves as hedonists, which also explains their worldview to a certain extent.  

~*~

Troy

-Skinnier than most other Troys.  You could put him in a room with every fandom Troy and sort them by muscle mass, you’d find him at the bottom end, partying like this was an accomplishment.  

-Has an X-linked connective tissue disorder which is more extensive than he lets on.  He really should not do about 90% of the stunts he does because of the vascular involvement.

-Made a categorical decision to treat the associated pain with a lot of cannabis and massage.  Has a distinct resin and honey body butter smell because of this.

--Also, if you get him off-hours, there’s going to be a fair amount of “but why are we here, man?” discussion.

-Has a kink in his upper back.  His spine tilts to his right.  Not super noticeable, but if you were on massage duty, you’d realize something felt out of place.  

-Used to get catastrophic nosebleeds, though these have lessened in frequency and severity over the years.  

-After a certain point, has a permanent latching socket port installed on his right side, allowing him to switch arms out as he likes.

--Because he has a selection of eccentric ones.  What? It’s a challenge to learn to use non-human aspects like claws or feathers or forty joints in a tentacle.  

--Still flounces around without one if nobody of consequence is watching and generally won’t sleep with one in.

-The insides of his ear gauges are messy and don’t even get him started on changing the jewelry on any, erm, other piercings he might have.  (Nipples and one off-center PA.  That was QUITE enough after what it took for his tattoos to cooperate.) 

-Will frame any illness or off-day as a migraine, which he does get.

-Had really bad teeth before his mouth mods.  After that, has none of his natural teeth remaining.  Primarily uses his exceptional bite radius to annoy others, show off, eat sandwiches in a disturbing fashion and do unspeakable things in bed.  They’re for show.  They’re not functional in any serious way.  

-Doesn’t have great control of said mouth mods in the heat of passion or if you get him laughing hard enough.  Hope you like spit!

-Still has rather heinous-looking feet, but he’s concerned about losing his calluses if he has them fixed.  You’d be more likely to see him open on an operating table than barefoot in public.  

-Always wants to be the little spoon.  You’re a tink? You’re a third his size? So what.  He wants to be the little spoon.  Just give in.

-Genuinely likes tea, especially flower-based tea.  Favorite foods include grits, polenta, tamales, campfire beefy rice, beef and broccoli layered onto somebody else’s leftover noodles, beef curry, beef sandwiches soaked in jus, steak tips on day-old fries and look just give him a sloppy plate of starch and dead cow if you need him to shut up.  

-Drinks vodka so cold and over-filtered it tastes like water, then follows it up with extra greasy, burnt-to-hell texas toast while talking about his mother.

-Lactose intolerant.  Please do not feed the rat child pizza. Or chipped beef on toast.  No, not even if he begs.  

~*~

Tyreen

-Abnormally acute senses, especially hearing/smell and including a form of intuition which targets where things she can leech exist nearby.  She’s only aware of any of this in the context of it being different from how Troy’s senses work.  She knows where to get food.  Don’t most people?

-Doesn’t perceive herself as 100% human.  The Leech is part of her and she likes herself.  Mama said she was perfect.  The details are whatever.  You got a problem here? Well, that’s easy to fix… 

-Would have been sorted as a tomboy growing up, but had no companions to do so.  As is, prefers the company of masculine individuals, loves showing people up in a boyish fashion and is absolutely going to tune you out if you start talking to her about the topic.  

-Reeks.  You might smell something “off” with her around in a meeting room, but get her sweaty or worked up and forget it.  It’s not even a human smell.  Petrichor and spray paint, menstrual blood and chlorine, dead leaves and solvent.  It’s chemical, it’s uncannily biological.  It’s really not OK.  She can’t smell it and Troy’s used to it.  

-Doesn’t shave.  Has fluffy armpits that don’t match her dye job and a rather spectacular bush that extends onto her upper thighs.  Does pluck here brows and the witch hairs on her chin, but otherwise, you know what, nah.

-Heavily tattooed, but this is limited to her torso.  The viewing of said tattoos, as well as her scars, is a ritual in her particular CoV.  

--Not that she cares about being naked.  A body is a body.  You people are so uptight.  

-Will reflexively guard her lower stomach before anything else and sometimes in error.  Do not call her on this.  You will piss her off.  

-Has an eye-shaped siren marking, but it’s on her left shoulder blade and she tends to forget it’s there.  More aware of the “pointer mark” underneath her navel.

-Poor tolerance for any drugs.

-Can only ingest salt, sucrose and 80 proof or better clear alcohol without retching.

--Which is to say she doesn’t eat “people food”.  

--Fatty or high-fiber foods tend to make her ill faster.  She could possibly keep tofu or chicken breast down for an hour or more, but it’s still not going to end well.  

--Can and does eat cinder toffee because it’s one of the few things she can chew and digest.  Konpeito is nice too, but sometimes the dye upsets her stomach.  

--Milk, maybe.  Human works better.

-Enjoys swimming or long baths.

-Ambidextrous.  Was either born that way or picked up doing certain things left-handed because that’s what her brother had to work with and she had to show him how to do stuff somehow.

-Good with a forearm-mounted crossbow.  Either hand is fine.

-Used to drool precipitously when she leeched something “good”.  Mostly has a handle on this by the time the CoV gets to be a thing.  Mostly.  

-Deeply immature love language which might include her actually asking to play with her prospective partner and a good bit of bullying.

-SHE IS NOT SHY ABOUT HER NEEDS AND KINKS.  THE HELL WITH YOU.  YOU’RE MAKING SOMETHING OUT OF NOTHING.  HOW DARE YOU.  DO YOU WANT TO BE SKAG BAIT ON THE NEXT LIVESCREAM.  UGH. #nottsundereatall

~*~

* The Leech IDed herself as, erm, herself in some stuff I’m not sure I’ll ever post but ANYWAY.

[emiisanxious]

Ignorance - Chapter 4

Archive of Our Own Link

Rating: Mature

Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con

Category: Gen

Fandom: Sanders Sides (Web Series)

Additional Tags:

Angst

Hurt No Comfort

Emotional Hurt

Panic Attacks

Rape/Non-con Elements

Violence

Blood and Violence

Sexual Violence

Threats of Violence

Aftermath of Violence

Broken Bones

Blood and Injury

Blood and Torture

Blood

Torture

Psychological Torture

Past Torture

Sympathetic Deceit | Janus Sanders

Sympathetic Dark Creativity | Remus “The Duke” Sanders

Alcohol

Former Dark Side Anxiety | Virgil Sanders

Anxiety | Virgil Sanders is a Dark Side

Anxiety | Virgil Sanders as Paranoia

Summary: “"Para for fuck sake stop chewing your thumb!" Janus yells as Virgil noticed that he was doing again opening the wound more. "Sorry... Just I need something to do with my hands." Paranoia told as he sits, and soon a fidget cube appeared in front of him and he just takes it fidgeting with it. "Let's see if I understand..."”

Note: Not all tags are in this chapters, some are in other’s chapters but just for the sake of it, read the additional tags since it will be on the rest of the fic.

"Well... I think is only fair enough if Remus tells you what happened, right?" Virgil told while moving back to lay down on the floor, giving the Duke space and also because he wasn't the type who likes touching too much. Drinking again he could see that Patton was looking to the bottle. "Do you want to know what is this?" Morality noded and Virgil shrugs it a bit before answering. "It's vodka with lemon juice and purple food coloring dye. I think if Remus did right is 50% 50%, so it is better to my taste." He looks to the Trait in question and got a nod. "I hate alcohol, but it does help calm down and make me open up to talk. The reason I hate it is because it makes me slow and not aware. Which makes me feel like I'm a failure at doing my job to protect Thomas. But since we are all here, Thomas is sleeping I can't care less."

Patton looked to Virgil still concerned about it, yet the anxious side does have a valid point, where the purple trait in question just keeps looking to him, before saying. "Relax popstar I promise after we satiate all questions and tell everything we can and want, we will be sleeping. Neither I or Janus likes to be not aware or slow." He looked to the yellow trait and saw him nodding, drinking his wine again. "Now Re... Your turn." He put the bottle down though, as he reaches towards a purple mug with his symbol to sip on the hot chocolate and eat a cookie. He could see the relief at the father figure as he eats something and not only drinking.

"Well... Since it's sincerity night..." Remus wasn't happy, and he lost most of his characteristics while he looked to everyone and then turn his vodka a little more. "I honestly hate this idea... But okay."

-----

"Fuck you Logic!" Remus was angry, grumpy, but more important he was scared, waking up to the sensation that he lost the power to rule over The Others commons room. They had one day, just one day to figure out what they should do, it was obvious that nightmares won't work for a while, since Logic and Creativity was working against it. Soon he could see his door slamming and closing quickly, obviously, Virgil would be the first one to appear there.

"Remus what the fuck is that?!" He could see the purple trait walking around his room, chewing on his thumb nervously. "Why does it is going back to that?" Soon enough he could see blood starting to appear on the other's thumb, "That dude surely has sharp canines huh?" was all he could think before he gets up and puts both hands over Virgils shoulders looking at him. "Hey calm down dude. You're hurting yourself." With that, he could see Paranoia letting go of his thumb.

"Yeah, you totally can do that right now." Janus wasn't summoned but it would be safer to just sink in on Remus room than walking the hallways right now. "So, Logic reasoned his way out again? Or was your brother who blocked you?" He just sighed as he sits on the bed worry growing yet he was relieved that both of who he need were there. "Logic, fuck him up dude, but or we try something new to get the power or..." He trailed not even caring about to keep talking.

"Para for fuck sake stop chewing your thumb!" Janus yells as Virgil noticed that he was doing again opening the wound more. "Sorry... Just I need something to do with my hands." Paranoia told as he sits, and soon a fidget cube appeared in front of him and he just takes it fidgeting with it. "Let's see if I understand..." He was talking slowly since he was trying to calm down with the toy and reason about it. "Remus was ruling because of the nightmares, that I was scared of." A nod comes from Janus as he sits down as well. "Now Logic reasoned the nightmares and he lost his powers. Which means the Commons will get in chaos?"

"Pretty much." The Duke finally said as he rests his back towards the wall. "Also Wrath will probably come towards me for been ruling so much... I guess I will pass the next week on Depression Dream Space. That is nearly my second room now." He shrugs. "But that does mean you both are free from Wrath till he gets bored of fuck me up till death."

"That doesn't sound good." Paranoia says as he looks to Deceit. "So... What we should do?"

"Lay lown, try to plan something to bring power towards me or regain Remus. You truly don't know how to rule over so you're out of the question." It was a simple answer. "And we stock some food and water for good measure. When Wrath gets bored with Remus, we can save him."

"Save you mean to kill him right?" Everything was weird to Virgil as he looks to both who was sincerely accepting everything without too much of a fight. "Can I ask why you're both accepting it? Like, it's not sure that Wrath will pick up on Remus right?"

"Oh... Para you are too good sometimes huh?" The Duke almost sounded sarcastic, although it was pure truth. "Here it's you will rule or be ruled if things go chaotic as it will go because no one is powerful to take over, then the strongest wins. Hence Wrath is a gang with 7 people, they are stronger, Dee can't fight that well, you're new here, and for more that I can fight very well, I can't protect anyone and neither win over 7 traits." Remus sighs as he looks at the ceiling of his room. "So... Yeah, it will happen. The only thing that can change this chaos is if a Dark Trait is accepted as part of Thomas, so this trait can change the rules forever."

"Well, that won't happen any time soon with Logic always reasoning, Creativity saying we are bad and Morality agreeing with both." Janus finally said as the trio sighs. "Well let focus on now, we have a day free. Let's grab what we can and hide in our rooms."

"Can I keep this?" Virgil asked as he gets up from the chair with the cube.

"Yeah, if it will stop you from chewing your thumb till wound it." Remus chuckled about it, it was like a gift to be remembered by. "I need to be alone, for tomorrow. So see you all when you rescue me." Another dark chuckle as he looks both leaving. He could see both staring at each other, but since they couldn't do anything and Remus wasn't asking they just left.

-----

"Sorry to interrupt." Logan wasn't sure about interrupting but he honestly needed it. "I didn't know... Well, we all didn't know about the Dark traits very well or how it worked on the other commons room. But, I... I'm sorry... If I knew, you all won't be..."

"Now it's my time to interrupt you." Janus cut him, as his eye narrowing in annoyance. "Like you said you didn't know, you couldn't possibly imagine what happened there, you all worked based on Morality and you all are doing your jobs as Traits. So you don't need to feel bad about it, sure, we cursed every time we get powerless by one of you but it was bound to happen and we knew it. You saying sorry now just doesn't help in anything that happened, but as well is pitying us and making less of what happened. Diminishing and mostly hurting us who passed by that!" It was impossible to miss how annoyed and angry Deceit was about it.

"Ah..." Logan was still feeling bad about it, but for now, he tried to just let it go. "I will wait till the next pause... To reason about it... Since it does have more to hear" He murmurs, as moves to his mug to drink and try to calm down.

"It's fine, we are talking exactly because of this. To reason and explain and obviously to get in better terms between us." Virgil smirked as he just finishes his cookie and let the mug on the coffee table to drink a bit more of his alcohol. Although he hated talking about that time, he could understand the effort, since repression is bad for mental health. "So, Remus keep going."

-----

So they left, Remus stared his door to imagination. "I could hide." A couple of seconds later looking how amazing would be hiding. "Nah... Already tried that it went more bad than good." He felt defeated as he lays on his bad, looking to the ceiling. "Time to take care of me and sleep as much as I can." As he gets up and so went to the kitchen to do something to eat and drink, ignoring the whisper and mocking as much as he could. Soon he was back in his room with some eggs, crackers, and juice, slowly appreciating it, finishing and sleeping.

The next morning, before he could even talk or wake up properly, he was met with his door slamming open and the sharp sound it does. "Sooooo Time to make you understand that you don't rule anything Huh?" He sat on his bed throwing a star towards them which they dodge, he wasn't going to make it sound like he was willing, it could be bad for Vee and Dee if he is so helpful to them.

"You think you're still ruling?! Pick him up!" With that, the traits started to fight, stars flying, yells, at the same time punches everywhere, soon enough he was overwhelmed, it was too many for him to deal and he was caught. His right eye was already purple, he had some cuts over his chests, and a broken finger already. That was going to be fun. "Now, let's go, here is disgusting."

He was dragged towards the Depression Dream Space, somewhere he always felt bad, mostly because it is like a suicide chamber, with a lot of tortures machines coming from 80's movies, objects that he truly didn't want to look at. He was soon thrown on the floor, too tired to fight for it if he plans to stay alive he needed to keep his energy, but that didn't mean he can't mock right? "Oh baby, I never came to this place before ~!" That was a lie, but he hoped it was enough for Janus to understand.

"You're feeling brave huh? Let's see how long it will keep." Soon he had shackles around his wrists and ankles, suspending him, he could feel his shoulders aching since he was hanging by the shackles, he would probably have broken shoulders by the end of that. Turning his head a bit he could see that his legs and arms are shackled together at one point on the ceiling.

His clothes are ripped apart as he was looking to the floor. "Shit... That won't be fun." He breathed hard as he could feel an elbow on his back forcing downwards. "So are you still brave?" A mocking voice came from Wrath as the Duke tried his best not to yell when answering. "That is all you can do? It is still a walk in the park."

After that, he could feel a spider gag ball been put on his mouth letting it open wide, drool was already starting to form as he honestly hated that thing but that was already expected, if he should say so, everything was going as normally would be.

-----

"I'm going, to sum up, the rest." Remus was trembling when he turned his second vodka bottle. "I was fucked up and torture in every way they wanted, he would fuck me up dry without any preparation or condom, then he would use whips to cut my skin, they would jump over me till I had both shoulders broken. I was pretty much passed out from pain so the next day, they would lay me down on those beds who stretch a person, they would do that while using a hot iron to mark my body with marks, of course, they fucked me up again. This time was both at my mouth and ass. Needless to say, I passed out again after they are done. I think the next time I saw him I wasn't sure at all why he was so pissed, but it was just Wrath the others aren't there. He broke my legs burned my skin by flaming that. I think he tried to cut me open, to make me bleed but I don't remember... After that, I honestly don't remember too much all that I do know is that they fucked my ass every day."

The Dark Creativity side was already turning the third bottle when he felt a hand over his right knee and then on his ankle. "Right... Dee, can you keep?"

"Yes."

-----

It took one week and five days, if he thought well about it, it was fair since Remus was ruling for four months, suddenly he could hear a knock, meeting by a gray trait. "Depression?" That was normal.

"Wrath told me to tell you: You can pick up that bitch and be warned that you only have till the Duke is back plus a day to relax. You're next." With that told the Depression just went back to his room, he was worried about the violence threat and the fact that if he was next then maybe Virgil would be next to him? He could care less about it now, as he moves to look at himself one last time and then knock on the Purple trait door. "Paranoia, open up."

He was met with purple tired eyes with black horrible circles who wasn't makeup. "You didn't sleep since Remus was caught?!" A nod was all he received, which drew him a sigh. "Well, we are going to pick him up." Another nod as he passes by Deceit and then closes his door, motioning for the other lead the way. He was sincerely worried about Virgil, but he couldn't do anything right now, since he does need to rescue The Duke first before Wrath changes his mind.

It did take a lot of time to where they wanted, but they got the eventually, when he opened the door, he could hear a gasp, and then soon enough he could hear the choking and sound of Virgil throwing up. "Well... I guess he tried to put a fight..." Janus sighed as he looked around, founding a knife, walking towards Remus. "Hey, are you awake?"

He saw a small nod and murmuring. "They gave me till the time you're back plus a day. So try to take as much time you can to recovery, okay?" Another small nod and a raspy voice followed. "Try...Co-c-compa... Para..." It broke him, as he sighs. "Yeh will do. Now you take your time." A nod, then he pulled the knife to cut his throat.

"Wa-wait..." It was a small sound as Virgil moved towards Remus, he wasn't sure at all what the other wanted. "Hey, buddy... Try to relax." Looking to Paranoia he was shaking but he put a hand over the Duke's heads, and soon enough his hand was emitting a purple light. The green trait expressions softened and relaxed, drawing a sincere smile. "Now you do."

Without thinking or waiting, he cut the Dark Creativity side throat and stuck the knife on his heart, which makes him turn into a green light ball and disappear. Then they walked back to the Paranoia's room, only when they are there that he could see Virgil picking up the cube that Remus got him and started fidgeting with it. "What you did?" Now was an excellent time to talk about everything.

"I... I... Don't know." It was clear to see him panicking and that the cube wasn't helping, soon enough he could hear a yell coming from Virgil, and he just threw himself further on the bed, shaking, contorting, holding the sheets as strong he could, almost ripping the fabric. Moving quickly he opened the jacket and pulled the shirt to see a purple hole wound shining though over his stomach. "You... WHAT YOU DID?!" Janus started to panic since he wasn't sure at all what Virgil did he couldn't help, but it was clear that whatever he did was hurting him.

"I...I don't know! I just wanted him to... Feel relaxed! Make it stop!" Virgil was crying while yelling, it took everything from Janus to not kill him to stop it.

-----

"It took... Three fucking weeks, till the hole disappeared, I stayed in his room all the time, making him company and forcing him to take care of himself. Like eat, drink water, sleep even though it was like 2 hours nap here and there, also helped him shower and distract. I think that is when Virgil started watching all of Disney movies." Janus sighed, discomfort, and pain as he remembers those days.

"Yeah, it was. I remember the fact that watching movies was a nice distraction and it helped forget the panic, the pain, the hole, that is when we bumped with a coping mechanism called age regression and that helped a lot in the next three weeks to heal and stop everything. But we didn't know what I did at that time. All that we knew was that I told someone to calm down and touched, my hand went purple and that is all." Virgil looked at the ceiling as he put his hand over his left shoulder.

"And yeah I heard a lot coming from Janus, every day he scolded me to take care of myself and that I do matter. If I can't sleep I should summon him or at least go talk to him. That is when I started to trust him more... He would be there every time I had a panic attack after that, also when I locked myself up, he would be there to annoy me to make me take care of myself." The purple trait looked to the one in question and had a small smile. "He also helped me figure out what I did later after the hole disappeared and I had a proper rest of course."

"Those morons told me about it when I woke up, I was shocked also angry and pissed, I was the first one to prohibited him from doing that at me again. Yes, I felt calm, yes for once in my life I wasn't thinking about gore or anything else, but I didn't want him burned out or in pain. And yet you did it again! And again! And today!" Remus was annoyed and sad about it while he looks at Virgil laying on the floor next to his feet.

"Well, I tried okay? But I can't help! Whenever you all are panicking or is fearing something, it annoys me, sometimes I could feel it in my room, even though I tried to hide in Janus's room I could still feel it! So sometimes I just went and did that thing... Today was just because, I wanted to you agree so we could do this talk." He defended as he looked to Remus. But it was obvious that both were starting to argue badly.

"You both stop now!" Janus yelled and both stopped. "Yes, Remus you're right to be upset about Virgil breaking your rule, but Virgil also has a point on his defense. It does disturb him whenever someone is panicking and he starts to panic as well, so it was well-intended. So, both are right and wrong. Just drop this okay?" Both noded while they turned to the Light Trio watching them looking with the most confused and surprised look.

"We bickered a lot... About anything and everything, normally between me and Virgil will be about lie or trust. Virgil and Remus are about fears and nightmares. I and Remus are about our ways to deal with things. So it's normal that the third out can stop it. Sometimes rare times we three bickered, to fix it normally is Virgil who stops the yelling and we go to our room, reflect and talk later." Janus confessed as he looked at both of them. "So, now let's take a break okay? I need it if I want to talk about the next thing."

"Can we reason about..." Logan tried to talk but he trailed off not sure at all how to keep talking.

"The fact that you are still feeling bad about doing your job, stoping Remus nightmares even though it was very bad for us?" Virgil pointed and then looking to Logan he could see a nod. "Sure."

[sinister-bob]

Truthfully, each time there is some sort of outbreak (namely from foreign countries because the racism really jumps out), I get irritated.  If there’s nothing you can do, have hope, keep clean, and monitor yourself/surroundings.  That’s it.  That’s all you can do.

I have a chronic illness, and with that comes a compromised immune system, which means that even flu shots are out for me.  But for the most part I live like this, since a common cold can lay me low for a month or longer.  So it’s more so a drudge, and seeing people panicking like this feels like an overreaction, though if I care to be empathetic enough, I know why.  You’re not used to the thought of all this, or the great finality of it all.

It’s going to get better, guys.  Just like it always has before.  Yes, there are risks, but that’s for the people with the compromised immune systems, IE., people like me, pregnant folk and the elderly.  You are going to survive.  Remember that.

But, people are scared.  Just like they always are.  Which makes sense, so okay, you want to be healthy along with your friends, family, and other people.  But, in doing so, people are buying out stores, using not really necessary things that are bad for the environment, and buying hand sanitizer, which was found years ago to be BAD on a whole other level because it makes super-bugs that can’t be killed by antibiotics.

There are things, though, that you can get, that you can make, that will work in place of them.  All it takes is a little effort, so in the long run, these things will probably be cheaper too.

Wet wipes 2

Disinfectant 2 3

Thieves oil 2 mix it with oil based hand lotion, or a carrier oil, like coconut oil, which is antibacterial in itself.*

Four thieves vinegar 2 3 4 (white vinegar is fine, don’t believe their lies.  You can also eat this, unlike the thieves oil.)

Then there are the things you can buy, which are a little off the beaten path, but are still good.

Carbolic soap:  It’s antibacterial, kills acne, and is good for open sores.

Coconut oil: As stated above, it has antibacterial properties, and as well is good for open sore.  Don’t over do it, though, because it can clog pores. (It’s also good for healing tattoos.)

Honey: it’s antibacterial and antifungal.  I once made a mix of this and coconut oil of equal measures, and it’s wonderful for cuts and the like.  Honey is also good for getting rid of acne.

Edible plants 2 3 4: Because, oh shit, there’s a lot of them!  The ones linked are actually lists that give their properties, but they are all either antibacterial/antiviral.  Check to make sure you aren’t actually allergic to anything.  You can’t be healthy if you’re dead.

Capsicum: Eat spicy foods.  The spice helps your immune system, and helps keep you healthier longer.  At least one meal every day.  Even if you don’t like spice, start small.  Start with paper-thin garlic, and work your way up the peppers, starting at something like an anaheim.  It looks like a giant jalapeno, but it is pretty much a green pepper.

*Essential oils: This one is tricky.  You have to make sure that you are getting the right ones, and you will have to do some research.  They can be harmful to pets, especially small ones like rodent, birds, lizards, ETC.  But you have to make sure the ones you’re getting are the antibacterial, antifungal, antiviral ones, like tea tree, eucalyptus, rosemary, cinnamon . . .

Lemon concentrate:  Lemon helps boost your immune system, and if you catch anything, it can help you get better quicker.  It also helps loosen phlegm stuck to the walls of your lungs.  So, if you have asthma or bronchitis besides, this would be a good thing to keep in your fridge.

Ginger: Ginger is like lemon only a 100 times better.  It does so much more, like help with blood flow and is an anti inflammatory.  Tastes great with lemon and pretty much everything else.  Fresh or dried, it doesn’t matter for the most part, but fresh always tastes best.

Turmeric:  It’s again anti everything, including anti-inflammatory.  Good for both the inside and outside of you.

Then there’s prep.

Soap

Take the carbolic soap, melt it in a double boiler with some water.  Once it’s dissolved, you have a choice: either you can make liquid soap, or you can make some small hard ones so you can take it wherever you’re going.  If you are making it liquid, you add some more water, and once that is done, you add it to the bottle.  If you’re making hard ones, use an ice cube tray or the like.  I don’t suggest using a plastic one, because it can melt it as well as the soap scent will linger.

Either way, you can add things to it to either make it pull double duty or to make it stronger.  Things you can add?

Baking soda:  About a teaspoon per bar.  Warning:  It foams a lot when you introduce it, so make sure the walls of your pot are high enough to keep it contained.  Mine went about twice the volume.  It makes it a better cleaner.

coconut oil: About a tablespoon.  It retains it’s antibacterial properties.

Honey: About a tablespoon and a half.  It makes it lather well.  It keeps it’s properties as well.

Essential oil: For the most part, I don’t suggest adding more than 30 drops (a tablespoon).   You can do more, I just think you’d be wasting it at that point.  This would be a good use for the thieves oil, too.

*Note*  Always vent, especially if you have pets or small children.

Antibacterial ETC ETC ETC Hand Lotion

All you need is coconut oil, wax, and your choice of essential oil.

Depending on how hard you want the lotion, I would say about 1/3 wax to 2/3 oil.  Use a sliding scale to see where you want it, but remember, you cannot tell when it is in a liquid state.  If you are unsure, you have to let it completely cool before checking.  To add your essential oil, add it by the drop and stir.  You have to experiment, rather than just dumping stuff in.  Always add your scent last, otherwise you’ll kill it while smoking yourself out.

As for wax, believe it or not, you can use most anything.  I recently made hand lotion with the wax that comes off baby bells.  Certain candles work too.  You can even use crayons.  You dilute them so much, that they don’t really leave a colour on you, but that said, you might want to stick to colours that are complimentary to your skin tone.

You can steep a couple teaspoons of turmeric in the oil while keeping it over a low heat, and you’ll get the added benefit of it.  Steep it for about 4-5 minutes.  You can later throw the bundle in your bath for your health.  *Turmeric can dye things including you, so be careful.  I would more so suggest this step for people who have naturally occurring yellow or gold tones in their skin, unless you don’t mind looking like a Simpson.

Honey Lemon Ginger Drink

1/4 c. lemon concentrate

2/3 tsp. powdered ginger

2 tsp. honey

3/4 c. water

Optional: 1/4 c. gin (Decrease water to 1/2 cup)

Add all of the ingredients (except gin) to the pot.  Bring to under a boil.  Pour into cup and drink when cool enough to handle.  Tastes great cold, so you can make it a few days ahead.  Strain if you don’t want to contend with the sludge in the bottom.

Sage and Thyme Tea

1/2 tsp. powdered sage

1/8 tsp. powdered thyme

1/8 tsp. cinnamon

1 c. water

prep like regular tea.  Let steep for 6-8 minutes.  Strain before drinking to get rid of the sludge.  Sweeten to taste.

Fermented Milk

Yes, it sounds weird and gross, but it is good for you and boosts your immune system.  It doesn’t taste bad.   Kind of creamy and nutty.

1 c. warm milk

1/4 tsp. bakers’ yeast

1 tsp. honey or sugar

Combine all ingredients in a jar, shaking until the honey is dissolved.  Put the lid on loosely, not even barely closed, so that if you were to tip the jar, the contents would spill out.

Let sit for four hours, checking on it occasionally.  Sometimes you need to agitate it a little.  Once the time is up, you can drink it.  Leave it any longer, and it will turn to alcohol.  Don’t drink the dregs.

Wash your hands.  It’s a little terrifying that that has to be a reminder, since I got that drilled into my head as a child first from my mother and then by countless kid shows and ASPs.  Didn’t that happen with you guys?

20 seconds right?

Have a soliloquy:

Is this a dagger which I see before me, The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee. I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible To feeling as to sight? or art thou but A dagger of the mind, a false creation, Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain? I see thee yet, in form as palpable As this which now I draw.

Have a poem:

Tyger Tyger, burning bright, In the forests of the night; What immortal hand or eye, Could frame thy fearful symmetry?In what distant deeps or skies. Burnt the fire of thine eyes? On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand, dare seize the fire?And what shoulder, & what art, Could twist the sinews of thy heart? And when thy heart began to beat, What dread hand? & what dread feet?

Make Big Bird proud.

[pan-delure]

hey I'm starting dice casting in resin as a quarantine activity! anything you think I should know? (I have researched a decent amount about what to do or not do but I feel like it'd be better to get the opinion of someone who knows things!) thanks for your time! I love your blog btw

Oh my gosh, thank you! Wow... okay where to start... (Just a heads up to anyone reading, this is going to be a long and probably rambling post)

There's definitely a large learning curve for dice making, so like you said it's really good to do your research! Experimentation is important, but I'll try to share as much as I can to help!

There are a few important stages that help improve the quality of your dice, and the quality bumps up a bit each time you go up a stage. Each stage would cost a fair bit to bump up, but it does show an improvement and most importantly, each one reduces the amount of time and effort you have to put into completely finishing a set of dice. If you ever get discouraged, remember that failure is part of learning, and of course your results will get better with experience! I'll include some pics of my first dice versus my most recent ones for comparison.

The first tests I ever tried with making dice, I had barely a clue as to what to try. The first molds I ever made were made with a small, extremely expensive Hobby Lobby silicone mold kit, and a small bottle of Alumilite casting resin.

At the time, I knew from watching King of Random videos that the best thing to use to remove the bubbles from silicone (improving the quality of your molds and final product DRAMATICALLY) was to use a vacuum chamber to "degass" the silicone as much as possible. At the time I couldn't afford one, so my old molds often had tiny bubbles that would leave small, stippled pieces of resin all over the surface of my dice. So, how do we get around all of this?

Well, one way would be to buy a vacuum chamber, but I recently found a better way to make sure there are no bubbles! But, I'll talk a bit more about this later.

(Side Note: I do not support Hobby Lobby or their policies in the slightest, but at the time it was the only place in my town that offered silicone or resin, and it still is. I now buy almost all of my supplies online, and buy direct from the manufacturer if they have a website to avoid using Amazon.)

So first off, what kind of resin should you use?

This is normally just determined by personal preference, but I really enjoy using Art n Glow casting resin for all of my dice. You measure the two parts in a 1:1 ratio by volume, and it hardens pretty well as long as you mix it for 3-4 minutes before adding any pigments or dyes. I'll add a link to their website here, but keep in mind they also sell a lot of interesting pigment options besides just resin.

So what about silicone?

So after my first unfortunate mishaps with my old Hobby Lobby silicone, I decided to do some digging and see what would actually work the best. After watching a lot of Rybonator's videos on youtube about making molds, I went with Smooth-On brand Mold Star Slow 15 silicone for my first serious molds. This specific silicone is a two-part, green platinum cure silicone, which basically means it will last a lot longer than something like a tin cured silicone. (I would add a link for where to buy it, but there is another silicone that I like much better that I'll talk about in a moment.)

This worked pretty well for me, but there is a major downside. When you use an opaque silicone, you can't see the resin as you fill up your molds. This works for a LOT of applications, but if you're interested in doing layered, swirled, or pride themed dice, I would instead go with Smooth-On Sorta-Clear 37 silicone (link included). One trial kit is more than enough for one full set of dice molds, with a bit extra left over for other projects. Not only do the clear molds leave you open to being able to make layered or pride dice, but the silicone itself is a bit firmer than Slow 15, which makes it easier to secure the mold together before you pour resin into it, and the mold is a bit more durable overall.

(Comparison photos of molds I've made with Slow 15 and Sorta-Clear 37, and my og molds)

But how do we deal with all of the pesky bubbles in the silicone and resin?

Well, I'm glad you asked. So, normally a vacuum chamber would be used to remove the bubbles from the silicone, and then you would use a pressure pot after you fill them with resin to basically crush down any bubbles that are suspended in your resin while it hardens and cures. When I wasn't unemployed and had a decently steady stream of income, I went out of my way to track down a decent vacuum chamber and a vacuum pump (which I had to buy separately). However, with a bit of experimentation, I found that you don't really need a vacuum chamber at all! Instead of buying both pieces, which would (if you're lucky) would cost around ~$75 for the vacuum chamber and pump, and $100 for the pressure pot, just using a pressure pot in place of a vacuum chamber will save on both time and a TON of money.

Using a pressure pot is one of the main stages that helps improve the quality and time spent sanding dramatically, and both Rybonator and Peter Brown have great videos on setting up your pressure pot. Harbor Freight sells a great model that has a massive capacity and is absolutely perfect for dice making! The technique for using a pressure pot for curing silicone is rather simple, just pour your silicone into your molds and place into the pressure pot, then let them cure for the length of time given on the packaging instructions.

In terms of actually preparing dice for molds, I would follow this guide from Rybonator, which is pretty much what I've followed in making mine. My molds are slightly different, but it's just trial and error to see what works for you!

Hey, so how do you pigment your dice?

Pretty much any way you want! There are lots of different ways to color and tinted resin, and nearly infinite things you can inset into them!

A few of the things I use are the cheap $0.50 bottles of acrylic paint you can buy at Walmart or any hobby store, alcohol based inks, liquid glitter, glow powder from Art n Glow, mica powders, pearl powder, cocoa powder, gold leaf, so pretty much anything! Peter Brown has an amazing video series where he takes household items and tests how well they work as resin dyes (link), and it serves as a pretty good source of inspiration for what to use!

Oh lord, am I going to have to sand these?

IMPORTANT NOTE: ALWAYS WEAR A RESPIRATOR OR FACE MASK, EYE PROTECTION, AND GLOVES WHEN WORKING WITH RESIN! (Yes, always!)

Unfortunately, sanding your dice can be one of the most tedious parts of this hobby, but each of the stages I've mentioned such as using a pressure pot or even getting your own dice masters can really cut down on the amount of time that you have to spend sanding and polishing. Personally, I use a mix of different wet sanding grits (normally the grits I use are 300, 600, 800, 1200, and 2000), and once I'm happy with the surface finish I move on to something called Zona papers (link), which work amazingly well compared to things like micro mesh pads that I've used in the past. I normally sand each face, including when polishing them, for about a minute or so on each face in a figure-8 motion, making sure that there is plenty of water to keep both dust from clogging the sand paper, as well as to reduce the amount you are breathing in. Buying master dice, such as those from Blue Mimic, can really reduce the amount of time you have to sand, but most hobby dice makers may not go so far as they can cost over hundreds of dollars, but are necessary if you ever plan on selling them or starting a business with them.

That's about most of the advice I have when it comes to making dice, but if anyone has any questions please don't hesitate to ask!! If I think of anything else I'll add a reblog onto this with any extra info. Remember, any failures you make are absolutely part of the process, and make sure you keep them to remember how far you've come!

[builder051]

Everything that kills me

A commission for an anonymous client.  Criminal Minds.

_______________________________________

take that money

 watch it burn

sink in the river 

the lessons I learned

everything that kills me 

makes me feel alive

The plane ride is uncomfortable.  Usually JJ has no problem reading or writing while in motion, letting her eyes and hand move gently with the turbulence, but today, the legal pad in her lap seems to be swimming.  The green lines fuzz over and disappear into a blur of the yellow paper, leaving her pen marks looking stark and dreary.  A subtle throb has developed behind her right eye and invited a streak of bright aura with it.  Some of her letters stand out in three dimensions while others seem to retract into the page.

“The local PD is still calling him a serial rapist,” Hotch says, flipping around his iPad to show the battered faces of four young women.  “But with one found dead at the scene and one failing to survive her injuries, we��re probably looking for a serial killer.  His time between victims is short, bordering on a spree.”  He glances around at the other members of the team.  “Time is really of the essence here.”

JJ nods and copies down the note.  She scans over what she has so far, as if reading it again will press the bit of information into her brain.  She only gets a moment, though, before her vision starts to cross again.  JJ rubs her eyes with her knuckle and brings the butt of the pen up to tap against her teeth.  

Come on, she tells herself.  Concentrate.

It’s been like this on and off for a while now, not that she wants to admit it.  If anyone asks, she’s fine.  No problems.  She’s good to work.  And truly, she is.  She has more good days than bad ones, sleepless nights notwithstanding.  The insomnia probably isn’t even related to post-traumatic stress.  JJ lies awake next to Will as often as she does when she’s away on a case.  The migraines are a different story, but not one she’s ready to tell anyone else about.  At least not yet.  

She blinks hard and starts over, re-reading the first line on the page.  Her forehead throbs before she finishes the first line of text..  

Four young women, raped and battered.  Patsy Michaelsen.  Age 22.  Found at the mouth of a bike trail with two punctured lungs, a miraculously non-lethal slash across her throat, and a used condom in her mouth.  The scar will show for the rest of her life; the raspy whisper of her voice is supposedly temporary.  The BAU has a file of notes from an interview with local law enforcement, but it’s none too enlightening.  A man.  A dark hood.  A knife.  JJ could have guessed the details.  She imagines the specter of the unsub leaning over her; large, sweaty hands finding her neck.  It makes a line of cold sweat run down her spine.

Then Lydia King, a 24-year-old grad student with a UK passport, dead and buried in a pile of leaves just off the road in front of a playground.  Kids found her on their way out to play.  Not that she was much more than a kid herself.  JJ examines Lydia’s photo, taking in her unblemished chubby face.  If she didn’t know better, JJ would have pegged her for an innocent 16.  She finds herself wondering if Lydia was a virgin.  Then her stomach knots as she feels guilty, so instead hopes the abuse was at least post-mortem.

Jersey Jones was found fewer than twelve hours later.  Technically it was the next day, but the accelerated timeline between victims two and three means a spree.  The unsub is unravelling.  Possibly getting sloppy.  He left semen in the vic this time.  He’d forgotten the condom, or disregarded it.  The 27-year-old Jersey looked closer to 30, another departure from the previous MO.  They won’t know for sure it’s the same perp until DNA results come in, but JJ has little doubt.  

Then there was Sarah McQueen, the one who got away.  She managed to pick her way across six lanes of traffic and into a 24-hour diner where the owner called for an ambulance.  The authorities thought she’d been hit by a car until she started vomiting up strips of latex.  Local PD put two and two together and called the feds within the hour.  Hotch accepted the case as soon as Penelope finished downloading the files, and the team was on the jet before Sarah was out of surgery.

“She’ll be in a delicate position.  Traumatized and probably having trouble expressing herself.  She has head injuries in addition to slashes on her torso and neck,” Hotch warns. 

“That’s another difference from the last three,” Emily points out.  “Are we sure she’s not number three?  Is this all the same guy?”

“Lexington isn’t that big of a city,” Spencer supplies.  “It’s unlikely to have more than one active at a time with that population density.  Killer or rapist.”

JJ nods absently in agreement, still scanning her notes. 

“Anything to add?” Hotch asks, looking at her. 

“Um.”  JJ struggles to focus for an uncomfortable moment.  

“You ok?”  This time, it’s Emily, glancing her way with a concerned expression.

“Yeah.  Of course.”  JJ clears her throat and swallows.  “Looks like he’s escalating.  Jersey might have been a victim of opportunity, but things didn’t go as expected, so he went after Sarah before he cooled off?”

“Sarah does have more defensive wounds,” Spencer says.  “And the blows to the head might have been an attempt to incapacitate her.”

JJ nods again, glad the spotlight is off her.  Focus, she tells herself again.  What is with you?  You’ve worked while feeling this bad before, no problem.

Hotch starts to lay out plans.  As soon as JJ’s instructed to visit the victims in the hospital with Spencer, she lets her mind wander.  She taps her pen again, absently counting the dull clicks of the plastic against her teeth.  

Five.  The number of Patsy’s broken ribs.  

Twelve.  The number of hours between vics two and three.  

Eighteen.  The age of Sarah McQueen. 

“Hey.” 

JJ jumps, instinctively bringing her hand to her chest.

Spencer appears at her shoulder.  “Sorry,” he says.  “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine.”  JJ smiles and drops her defensive position.  “Want to compare notes?”  She looks back to her tight cursive spread over the first page of her legal pad.  As usual, Spencer’s written about five times as much, his untidy scrawl marching across several crumpled-edged sheets.

He quickly reads over her shoulder.  “No, I think you got everything important.”

“Good.”  JJ runs her fingers through her hair, embarrassed of being put on the spot, even though she and Spencer are close.  Her nails catch and pull on a few strands, making her wince.

“You ok?”

“Oh, yeah,”  JJ repeats.  For a second she thinks considers saying headache, but she thinks better of it.  All that’ll do is put another worry in her friend’s mind, one that he certainly doesn’t need.

Spencer pauses and squints slightly.  “Tell me if you’re not?”

“Of course.”

JJ’s glad when the pilot’s tinny prep for landing announcement sounds.  Spencer sits beside her, and she’s relieved to be taken off the spot.  He can’t look at her now without being awkward. 

The silence between them still feels odd, though, so she takes a bottle of water from her bag.  JJ makes to unscrew the cap, but finds her hands trembling too hard to hold it steady.  Luckily the jet hits a patch of turbulence to cover the movement, but she feels caught either way.  Her mouth is full of thick saliva, and she isn’t thirsty anymore.  JJ settles for picking distractedly at the label until the plane touches down on the runway.

The drive to the hospital is downright painful.  JJ’s knees ache as she pulls herself up into the front passenger seat of the shiny black SUV.  She’s not sure how she wound up riding shotgun, but she’s grateful for the bit of good fortune.  The stiff leather seat feels hard and lumpy behind her back, and the air conditioning all but makes her teeth chatter.  Clammy sweat gathers on her forehead, but she wipes it away before the local detective behind the wheel has the chance to notice.

“How far to the hospital?” JJ asks, swallowing hard and trying to smile.  Her stomach twists uncomfortably again as her mind flickers backward to other times she held pain between her teeth like this.

It’s nothing like those other times.  No one is hissing in your ear.  No one is holding you against your will.

“Fifteen, twenty minutes?” the detective says, his voice thick with an Appalachian accent.  “Not too far.”

Not long for you, but a long time for those girls.  A long time when you’re the one tied up.

JJ shakes her head to clear it, but all it does is reignite the throb.  “Good,” she says, though her voice sounds anything but..

Spencer asks a question from the backseat, taking control of the conversation.  JJ silently thanks him, though he probably has no idea.

Or does he?  Guilt joins the noxious brew churning in her gut.  They aren’t supposed to profile each other, but they’re not supposed to keep secrets, either.  However she puts it, JJ knows she’s in the wrong. 

But what’s wrong about hiding a headache? she asks herself.  That’s all it is.  Just a little headache.

The hospital smells of antiseptic.  One whiff practically makes JJ’s eyes burn.  Cold discomfort rises in her stomach again as she picks up something else, something like salt and copper hovering just under the pervasive curtain of alcohol-based sanitizer.

The local cop leads them through a maze of hallways to Sarah McQueen’s room.  Through the window JJ sees her on her back in the bed, a layer of bandages wrapped tightly around her head, giving the impression of a snowy white ski cap pulled over curtains of icy blonde hair.  It looks like a dye job to JJ, maybe even one of those at-home bleach kits.  She makes a mental note to check the details of the other girls’ hair and see if that’s part of the pattern.

You should already know, the voice in her head tells her.  You’re falling behind.

JJ sighs and shakes her head slightly, her own blonde waves moving on either side of her face.  Her eyes feel wet, and she blinks a few times to get a handle on herself.  A pool of tears threatens to loose itself down her cheek, so she quickly swipes her thumb across her lower lash line. 

When JJ lifts her head, Spencer’s staring at her.  He narrows his eyes to a concerned squint, but Sarah begins to cough, and he focuses his attention on her instead.

“Hi, Sarah,” JJ says.  She clears her throat, bursting what feels like a bubble of mucous blocking the top of her esophagus.  “My name is Jennifer, and this is Spencer.  We’re with the FBI.” 

The girl doesn’t even have her eyes open, but if the doctors and local PD are letting them question her, JJ assumes Sarah is up to the challenge. 

“Mmph.”  The girl makes a little groaning sound.  Her lashes flutter slightly, but other than that she remains motionless.

JJ swallows.  She can’t decide if she needs to cough again.  Her vocal cords feel tight, as if an invisible hand is pressing down on the front of her throat. 

Spencer picks up where she left off.  “Do you remember how somebody attacked you?  When you were—Were you walking last night?”

Sarah’s eyelids move again as she squints up at them.  A litany of facts and figures flick at the back of JJ’s mind.  Don’t walk to your car by yourself.  Don’t go out alone after dark.

Don’t give up information no matter how hard you’re questioned.

Don’t let men have their way with you.

Sarah starts to say something, her voice low and raspy.  Only a few sounds come out before she moves her head painfully to the side to hack and sputter into her shoulder.  A few flecks of blood spatter on the pale green fabric of her hospital gown.

JJ can taste the copper from across the room.  She swallows quickly, but cold sweat gathers on the back of her neck as her gag reflex moves jerkily up and down.  She practically feels thick fingers reaching for her shoulder, then her throat.

“It—“ JJ starts, desperate to shake the feeling.  “You’re not in trouble.” 

Too much spit froths under her tongue.  Of course Sarah’s not in trouble.  Why would she even think that?

Maybe you’re the one in trouble.

Guilt bubbles in her stomach again, combining with something hotter and angrier that sends sickly tendrils up into JJ’s chest.  She crosses her arms in front of her, hoping the pressure will at least give her a momentary hold. 

“Just, anything you remember can be helpful.”

Sarah opens her mouth.  It makes a wet sound, and somehow that’s the last straw for JJ.  Oh god, she prays silently, please no.  Please not now. 

Sourness rises in the back of her throat, and not the kind that can be swallowed back down.  Her jawline prickles as her gut presses upward into her chest.

“I’m—excuse me—“ JJ delicately touches her lips with the tips of her fingers, then turns on her heel and hurries from the room.  There has to be a bathroom, a trash can, even a mop bucket.  Something she can get to before she completely destroys her dignity. 

There are emesis basins stacked neatly on the counter at the nurse’s station.  JJ snags one and hurries down a deserted hallway.  She slows, her breathing ragged, as a heave makes her stomach contract and her shoulders jerk forward.  She holds the basin against her chest and backs into the wall, slowly sliding down into a crouch.  Stars flicker in the corners of JJ’s vision.  Nausea rises up in her, and sourness blossoms across her tongue as she vomits, bringing up bitter coffee and orange juice along with the remnants of last night’s dinner. 

The basin trembles in her grip, sending ripples through the disgusting fluid.  A drip runs to the end of JJ’s nose.  She sniffles, getting a good whiff of the odor of her own sick, and gags painfully again. 

“JJ?”

She hears her name from the end of the hall.  It sounds miles away, echoing and hazy, but it brings an icy jolt of panic over her anyway. 

“No,” she says in a choked whisper, but whoever it is doesn’t hear her. Either that or he doesn’t listen.  

Footsteps approach.  Spencer’s hand drops onto her shoulder, and JJ jumps, the basin sliding from its loose position in her arms and clattering to the floor.  She swears under her breath as the pool of vomit seeps into her shoes.

“I’m so sorry.  I didn’t mean to—again, you know,” Spencer stutters, grasping at her arm to keep her from falling.

“I—it’s—”  JJ can’t control the retch that bursts from her chest, and she throws up a third time, bile dribbling in strings hanging from her lower lip.  “Oh my god.  Sorry.”

“It’s ok,” Spencer says quickly.  “It’s ok.  You’re alright.”  He pauses, cringing, to correct himself.  “Well, you’re not, but, it’s fine.  You have to breathe, JJ.”  He pats her on the back a few times, the soft percussive movement forcing air into her lungs. 

JJ’s throat burns with acid.  Her mouth waters, and she goes through the motions with a fourth, tiny heave.  She stands bent at the waist with her hands on her knees, her hair obscuring her burning face.  Spencer tries to help her upright, but JJ resists.  “No,” she murmurs.  “Just—just a second—”

“Of course.”  Spencer gently touches the back of her neck.  “I—you feel really warm,” he says.  “Do you think you have a fever?”

“No,” JJ says automatically.  She whips her hand behind her head to catch Spencer’s wrist.  His touch is nothing but soft, but she still can’t stand it.  “I’m sorry.”  She slowly begins to straighten, retracting her hand into her sleeve and dragging it across her lips. Tears prickle at the corners of her eyes again.

“Don’t worry about it.”  Spencer’s eyes are huge and glassy with concern.  A soft wrinkle forms between his brows.  JJ wants to reach up to smooth it out, but that would require touching him, and she isn’t ready for that yet.  “You’re really sick.”

“I’m…”  JJ plans on saying fine, but she knows she can’t continue to lie.  “Yeah.”  It comes out as the tiniest whisper, quiet and crackling with the physical and emotional strain of pushing out the word.  “I guess.  Yeah.”

“Should I get a doctor?”  Spencer glances around.  “A nurse, maybe?”

JJ shakes her head.  They are in a hospital after all, but she can’t accept help.  She can’t let the team see her like this.  Fever be damned, she’s been through much worse.  She isn’t supposed to fall apart.

“No, I just—”  JJ pauses to swallow.  “Let me just—back to the hotel.  Or the police station.  If I just lie down for a minute, I’ll be fine.” 

Speaking leaves her fatigued and short of breath.  JJ feels herself sway on her feet, and Spencer gently catches her shoulders.

“Please don’t…” JJ murmurs.  She can’t stand his touch anymore; it’s as if his long fingers are leaving red-hot furrows that burn away her sweater and blister her delicate skin.  “I’m sorry.”

“Ok.”  Spencer slowly nods.  His face blurs, and JJ isn’t sure if it’s the vertigo finally taking over or a fresh round of tears.  “Should I call someone?  Hotch?”

“No—”

“Emily, then?”  It’s clear what he’s not saying.  JJ hates to admit it, but she would feel more comfortable with a woman.

“I—”  JJ wavers.  “I don’t know.  I guess.” 

“Alright.  Here.”  Spencer reaches for the disgusting basin she still has clutched to her chest.  “Are you, uh, done?”

“Yes, I think so.  Sorry, that’s…”  She shakes her head, reigniting the nauseating pain throbbing behind her eyes. 

“A natural process of the human body,” Spencer finishes.  “I won’t give you any more facts, I promise.”

JJ tries to smile, but her face feels heavy and frozen in a pained expression.  “Thanks.”

They drop the basin on an abandoned nurse’s cart and slip out a back door, then down the steps to the parking lot.  As soon as Spencer helps her into the car, he dials Emily and puts the phone on speaker.

“Prentiss,” the other woman answers on the first ring.  “Did you get anything from Sarah McQueen?”

“Oh.”  JJ’s practically forgotten about the girl.  Another swoop of guilt rises in her stomach, and she has to swallow hard to keep it from turning into something worse.  “Um…”

“You have any luck with the victims’ online presence?” Spencer asks, covering for her effortlessly.

“Actually, yes.  Garcia’s pulled what she can from all their accounts, and it looks like they were all into fitness.”

“What, same gym?”  The words sear on the way out of her throat, but JJ’s desperate to participate.

“No, more like trail running.”

“That’s really dangerous,” Spencer pipes up.  “Women going out alone after dark.  Probably wore their hair up.  Ponytails are easy to grab, making them more appealing targets…”  JJ sees the cogs turning in his head. 

“Could it really be that simple?” Emily asks.

“Talk to their friends.  See if you can recreate their running routes,” JJ suggests.  The last word sticks, and she covers her mouth before the resulting cough can turn into a gag.

“You ok?” Spencer reaches for her again, but retracts his hand quickly.

“JJ?”

“I’m fine, I just—”  Nausea rises in her, sending sweat trailing down from her temples.  “Oh god.”  JJ scrambles to open her door and hang her head out of the car.  She barely frees herself from her seatbelt when she throws up a weak stream of bile, almost all of it running sideways into her hair. 

“What was that?” JJ hears Emily ask, panic plain in her voice.

“I, um,” Spencer waffles.  “Actually why I was calling.  JJ’s sick, and I was wondering if you could meet us…  I don’t… I just…” he loses steam and begins to stutter.

“What’s wrong?  What happened?”

“An anxiety attack, maybe?” Spencer guesses.  He undoes his seatbelt and scrambles out and around the car.  “She’s vomiting, and I think she has a fever.”

“You’re still at the hospital, aren’t you?  Try urgent care—”

“No!” JJ says firmly.  She wipes her mouth with a shaking hand and uses the car door to push herself upright again.  “I just spooked.  I’m fine.”

“If you need a rest, you can take one,” Emily says.  “Hotch will let you—”

“Please don’t tell him.” JJ presses her fingertips into the corners of her eyes.  “I can’t let this get in the way.  What if someone else gets attacked tonight?”

��That’s not on you.”  Spencer shakes his head emphatically.  “We need you at your best.  Even just a little sleep will help.”

JJ sighs.  Guilt and sickness weigh heavily with the excess saliva running under her tongue.  He has a point.  She’s not at her best.  She hasn’t been at her best for weeks, and a nap isn’t going to make much of a difference.  “I’m sorry.”  JJ shakes her head.  She’s not even sure what she’s apologizing for, but she feels she needs to.  Badly. 

“JJ…”  Spencer looks from her to the phone.  “I know there’s something you’re not telling us.”

She shoots him a venomous look, and he quickly continues with, “You don’t have to say anything.  And I promise I won’t profile you any more.  But, just, you have to know we’re here for you.”

JJ swallows.  Her throat feels tight, and she isn’t sure if it’s more or less comfortable than it was before. 

“That’s,” she rasps, “I mean, thank you.”  She wants to explain more, but at the same time, she’s glad to remain silent.  “I will.  Sometime.”  A hiccup forces its way up, and she covers her mouth.  “Sorry.”

“Forget the police station, ok?” Emily says.  “I’ll meet you at the hotel.”

“Don’t—” JJ starts

“No, I’ll have Garcia load up some files.  I’ll look at them while you rest.  Then maybe we can put our heads together once you’re feeling a little better.

“I…”  JJ knows she can’t protest.  “Thank you.  You’re… Just, thank you.”

“You’re just welcome,” Spencer says at the same moment Emily says, “Of course.”

Spencer drives back to the hotel.  He appears to do his best to move the car smoothly, only skidding through one dangerously short yellow light.  “Ok, here we are,” he says after a few minutes of silence.

Thank god, JJ thinks.  She opens her door with trembling fingers, pausing to breathe through a queasy hiccup before attempting to exit the vehicle.

“Let me help you--”  Spencer runs around the back of the car and meets her on the passenger side.

“No!” JJ squeals before she can stop herself.  “I--I’m sorry.”  She covers her mouth with one hand and holds the other up to stop him.  “I just--I can’t.”

“That’s alright.”  Spencer stops in his tracks and holds the car door open instead.  “I won’t touch you.  Is it fever aches?”

The kid has to know that isn’t it.  He’s offering you an out, JJ thinks.  Take it.

“Um.  Yes,” she says with more formality than she means.  She wraps her arms around her chest as she stands up, a shiver wracking her thin frame.  

“Here.”  Spencer holds his hand an inch or so off the back of her shoulder, ready to catch her should she fall.  “We have rooms on the ground floor this time.  No elevator ride.”  He offers a wan smile.

“Good,” JJ manages.

They walk to the end of the hall.  Spencer taps on the last door in the row, and Emily opens the door.  “Oh, my god,” she says upon seeing them.  Then, “I’m sorry.  That’s--you look--”

“Dead?” JJ suggests with a dark smile.  It’s so inappropriate that she wonders if she’s getting close to delirium.

“Well, that’s not what I was going to say, but now that you mention it…”  Emily trails off, shaking her head.  “Get in here and take your shoes off.”  She points to JJ’s vomit-covered loafers.  

“Looks like you’ve got it from here,” Spencer says.  He lifts his hand in thanks to Emily, then gives JJ a hard stare.  “Take care of yourself, ok?  We’re all here for you to lean on.”

“Yes, exactly,” Emily echoes.  She looks to Spencer.  “Hotch wanted you back at the police station.”

Spencer nods.  “Ok.  See you later?  Hope you feel better, JJ.”

“Thanks,” JJ whispers.  

Now that she’s in a room where she can relax, her energy seems to be draining out of her along with her guard.  She divests herself of her shoes and gingerly moves toward one of the beds.  Emily helps her sit, then slips into the bathroom to run a washcloth under the tap.  

“Did you bring files from the station?” JJ asks.  “I thought Penelope was putting some on a laptop for us.”

“Yes,” Emily answers.  “But for me.  You need to rest.”

“I--”  JJ starts, but her train of thought leaves her as a wave of exhaustion crushes over her.  Tears prickle at the corners of her eyes as she feels tired and frightened and thankful all at once.  

“Hey.”  Emily sits on the edge of the bed and begins to carefully sponge JJ’s face.  “It’s ok, you know?  We all have our days when we need a little help.”

“Hm.”  JJ nods and presses her lips together.  “Yeah,” she whispers.  “Thank you.”  

[thecosmetickitchen-blog]

Lockdown Bath Bombs

At the moment, the chances are that you can’t get hold of your favourite products from stores like Lush cosmetics - not to mention they cost a bomb (excuse the pun!) in the first place. That being the case, why not learn something new and enjoy making your own tailor-made at home? If you can get to the supermarket, the chances are you’ll be able to get most of these ingredients at home; if you can’t, don’t worry, you can order them online on either Amazon or eBay.

In order to make these truly cost-effective, you’ll need to buy the ingredients in bulk - but if you’re just doing this for a bit of fun, then there’s no harm in just scaling the recipe down and making whatever quantity you want.

I’d recommend reading this entire post first to give you an idea of what you’re doing, rather than starting and getting frustrated if you get lost on your way.

Before you begin, you’ll need some equipment on standby, including cup measures, tablespoon and teaspoon measures, a large bowl, a whisk, and a small bowl or jug. You’ll also need a spray bottle that creates a fine mist; ideally the spray bottle should be full of a 100% alcohol solution, but you can use water provided you don’t dampen the mix too much. You’ll also need some bath bomb moulds, which you can find cheap on eBay or Amazon. It’s up to you what size and shape you buy, and you can buy either clip-together moulds or press-together moulds (which is what I use).

The moulds I use are stainless steel and make bombs that are roughly 2.6-inches in diameter. If you can find stainless steel moulds, I’d recommend them, as the clip-together plastic moulds can sometimes break when you pull them apart, and the cheaper tin moulds can dent a bit easily. Here’s a few suggestions that you might want to investigate, but it’s entirely up to you - buy whatever suits your budget or whatever you like the look of:

Stainless Steel Sphere Moulds

Metal Moulds (Mixed Shapes)

Plastic Sphere Moulds

If you’ve been successful, then you should end up with a lovely, fizzy bomb that does something like this when you drop it in the bath:

So, what is going in to these bath bombs? Well, if you search the internet, you’ll find that there’s dozens of different recipes for these bombs; everyone has their own mix of things they like to include, so this is just my recipe. It’s the one I have success with, but I am not going to claim mine is the definitive recipe - play about and see what works for you.

Based on my 2.6-inch moulds, this gets me roughly 8 bath bombs, although on this occasion I only moulded 6 bombs and kept the rest to use as bath fizz - more on this later!

Ingredient Tip #1: One suggestion I have in regard to making bath bombs is regarding the use of vegetable glycerine (or any glycerine) in the mix. Some recipes do suggest it, but don’t do it, it can ruin your bombs! This is because glycerine is a natural humectant - which is the technical term to describe something that retains or preserves moisture. That makes it brilliant for the skin - but not so good for bath bombs. The reason for this is because bath bombs contain sodium bicarbonate (or Baking Soda, in the common tongue) which, if you didn’t already know, reacts with water and creates the fizz of the bombs. So including an ingredient that will draw in moisture from the air is a bad idea as it can start the fizzing reaction early, either ruining the bomb altogether or making it so that when you go to use the bomb, the fizz is all but gone.

Ingredient Tip #2: If you can find them, use fine Epsom salts as these will mix in better with the other ingredients and larger grains can make the mix very crumbly and harder to mould. It should also be noted that larger grains of salt can draw in moisture in a similar fashion to glycerine.

Ingredient Tip #3: Make sure all your ingredients are either food or cosmetic grade.

Ingredient Tip #4: If using colourants, make sure they’re water soluble otherwise they can stain your bath and ruin your life! You might also want to wear gloves if you’re using liquid or gel colours so they don’t stain your hands; you should be okay if working with mica powders.

Ingredient Tip #5: You can use whatever carrier oils you like for your mix, they don’t have to be the same as mine.

Ingredient Tip #6: If you’re using liquid dyes, remember that they will lighten once mixed with the dry ingredients, so you might want to add a little extra if you want to end up with stronger coloured bombs.

Dry Ingredients

2 Cups Cornflour

1.5 Cups Baking Soda

1.5 Cups Citric Acid

Two-thirds of a cup Epsom salts

.5 Cup Cream of Tartar

Mica powder (if you’re using powder and not a liquid dye)

Note: If you want to make a bubble bath bomb, then you can ditch the Cream of Tartar and use SLSA instead.

Wet Ingredients

3 Tablespoons of Fractioned Coconut Oil

2 Tablespoons of Vitamin E Oil

2 Teaspoons of Witch Hazel

Colourant

Scent (make this as strong or as weak as you like)

Method

1. Add all of your dry ingredients to a large bowl and mix them together with a whisk, until you have a fine white powder that looks like snow - and there are no large clumps of any one ingredient present. I used a liquid dye to colour my bombs, so I did that in the next step - but if you’re using a mica powder, add that now until you have the depth of colour that you want. Remember that with mica powder, a little usually goes a long way! If you have a respiratory problem, such as asthma, then I would recommend wearing a face mask while mixing these ingredients - especially if using SLSA which is a very fine powder and can easily irritate your lungs. You might also want to consider safety glasses if you are concerned about your eyes.

You can guy mica powders on eBay or Amazon, or through a specialist soap making site like these ones over at The Soap Kitchen.

If you want to make bombs that are multicoloured, my suggestion would be to wait until after you have mixed the dry and wet ingredients together, then to split the mix equally by weight to make however many colours you want, and then to add the colour - whether it be a liquid or powder. You’ll just need to give it a very thorough mix to blend it in.

2. In a bowl or jug, mix together the wet ingredients to the best of your ability. Obviously the Witch Hazel and oils will not mix as one is water based and the other isn’t - but that’s not to worry too much. Now is also the time to add in your liquid colours if doing so. On this occasion, I actually used a food gel colourant as I didn’t happen to have a soap dye in the colour I wanted, and the colour of food gels is very concentrated, so you generally don’t need to use a lot. Plus they can be cheaper to buy than some of the more expensive liquid dyes - not that any of the dyes are hugely expensive.

You can find a wide range of different dyes from natural to synthetic. The ‘cheaper’ ones can be more inclined to stain your bath, but this generally doesn’t happen unless you use a lot of it.

With some liquid dyes, you may need to dilute these in water first. If you have to do this, you might want to consider using the dye in place of the Witch Hazel and not as well as, as too much liquid can cause the reaction with the baking soda to begin and ruin your bombs - or make them a lot less fizzy!

Some dyes I found that you might want to check out:

Natural Dyes - The Soap Kitchen

Liquid Dyes - The Soap Kitchen

Zwanzer Dyes (20 Colour Assortment)

Now is also the time for you to add your scents. Again, there are loads of different brands that you can buy. I used the ones pictured below - because they come in some really ‘fun’ scents like Blueberry Muffin, Chocolate Orange and Pina Colada (which I used for this recipe) etc.

Pure Life (which I think may just be a rebrand of the ones pictured below) has all the traditional scents you would expect to find like lavender, rose, ylang ylang, sandalwood etc., but also has these funky fragrances too. You can buy their range here.

3. Now the time has come to add your wet ingredients to your dry ingredients. My suggestion here would be to add this in thirds, and give the mix a very thorough stir with your whisk before adding more. This is to mitigate your chances that the Witch Hazel or other water-based ingredients you use will cause a reaction with the baking soda. The oil-based products will not cause a reaction.

Once mixed together, you should end up with a snowy powder which is coloured and scented, but now also holds shape when you squeeze it - as if you were making a snowball.

4. Now is the time for the fun bit: making the bombs. This can be a little tricky, as it is somewhat dependent on the conditions you are working in: for instance, if you’re in a particularly dry climate, you might need to use a little more moisture than if you’re in a humid climate. But the principle is essentially the same: using your spray bottle of pure alcohol (ideally) or water if not, give the mix a couple of very quick sprays just to dampen it slightly. You do not want to soak the mix, only make it mouldable!

Now work quickly to get the mix into the moulds - alcohol spray will evaporate quite quickly, which is what makes it preferable, as it will evaporate out of the bombs, leaving them dry, and not giving them a chance to start a reaction.

Using a spoon, or your palm, press the mix into the mould until it’s quite condensed. Before pushing or clipping the moulds together, remember to slightly overfill them so that the two halves fuse together and join.

If you’re using clip-together moulds, then you can leave them in the mould to set overnight before gently opening the mould and tapping them out. If you’re using a push-together mould, using your finger or a spoon, very gently tap the mould to release the mix.

Carefully set these bombs aside to dry out. Depending on the humidity level, this could take anywhere from an hour or two, to overnight. You can, of course, run straight up to the bath and use them there and then if the mood takes you!

Once dried, the bombs should last for a few weeks, but I’d recommend keeping them stored in a dry place, ideally in a sealed container, lest they fall victim to humid conditions. Now, you should have plenty to keep you going for a while - so go have a bath and relax.

Troubleshooting:

My bombs are hissing and increasing in size and not drying out.

Unfortunately, too much moisture went in to these bombs and the reaction has started. Really all you can do is run yourself a bath and use them there and then - or discard them, and remember to mist the next bomb / batch with less alcohol or water solution.

My bombs are cracking or falling apart.

Okay, so this isn’t a complete disaster - it just means your bombs were too dry. If this is the case, remember to use a little more mist on the next bomb / batch or you can do what I do and ‘rebrand’ the product. The mix will still work perfectly well when added to the bath, so there’s no need to discard it! Get yourself an air-tight container (Mason jars work well) and spoon the mix into that. You no longer have bath bombs, you have bath fizz! And if anyone asks: that is absolutely what you intended to end up with in the first place! ;) Just shake some of this into the bath when you next have one, and you’ll get the same relaxing feeling, it just won’t involve a bomb fizzing round the bath!

Someone also once asked me, what each ingredient in this recipe is there for. If you’re really that interested, then the gist is this:

Cornflour: it’s a bulking agent and also makes the water ‘fluffy’

Baking Soda & Citric Acid: this is what creates all the fizzy goodness

Cream of Tartar: Helps the bomb float so it doesn’t just sink and fizz away at the bottom

SLSA: This is the ingredient that creates the bubbles (if you’re making a bubble bomb)

Oils / Witch Hazel / Epsom salts: Soothes the skin

Colour: Makes it look pretty

Scent: Makes it smell nice

[safyresky]

Away With The Fae

Summary: Charlie is Stressed, and Jacqueline knows exactly what will help him wind down...a night out with the Legates! Join Charlie the day after as he tries to piece together what happened, and why he now has $1000 (in cash), new running shoes, and...red hair dye?

Based on a prompt I read on tumblr ages ago which I’ve put below:

Your OC just woke up in their living room with hair dye, new shoes, and a note with 1,000 cash taped to it. What happened? (from the which-oc-would tumblr: post/159733622744/your-oc-your-oc-just-woke-up-in-their-living) (I know charlie isn’t my OC, but my OCs would definitely be the cause of Charlie in this situation so HERE YOU GO)

Warnings: a sprinkling of f-bombs, several mentions of alcohol. Alcohol is a huge driving force in this fic tbh so if that squicks you, I’d recommend against reading this smile shot!

---

Away With The Fae

Charlie's head really hurt. Like, bad. He opened his eyes and groaned—the light coming in from the front window was Not Good. Tumbling off of the couch and tripping over a box, Charlie fought the blinds closed and lay face down on the floor, glad for the darkness.

He wondered why he was in his living room. He thought he would be up in his room after his night out, not in the living room. And at the Pole, not his place near campus. The events of the night were kind of fuzzy. What was the box he had tripped over?

He rolled back to the couch and picked it up. It was hair dye. A bright red colour. He felt his heart race as he sat up and quickly ripped open the box; his relief when he realized that it was still full. He grabbed a bit of his hair and pulled it down towards his face—yup, still brown. Phew. He needed a haircut badly.

He put the box down and sighed, when he noticed a new pair of shoes on his feet. Why did he have those? Why didn’t he take them off when he got in? He pulled them off, trying to recall when he bought them and frowned. He couldn’t remember where they were from. He put them down beside the hair dye, which was all in a neat pile at the side of the couch with a note.

A note?

He picked up the note and gasped as he flipped it over.

"Holy shit."

Taped to the note was a huge wad of cash. He counted it out: there was one thousand dollars. Ten whole Benjamin Franklins staring up at him.

"What the fuck?" He whispered, putting the cash down and reading the note.

Hey Charlie,

Sorry about the hangover. You passed out after deciding to dye your hair. Jacqueline said we should do it anyway, but I figured that maybe it would be better if you were awake and not drunker than Bacchus to make that decision. We tucked you in and put the dye beside you. Feel free to text me if you decide you want to do it! I know a thing or two about beauty ;)

With Love,

Dite

Well that explained most things. Except for the money. And the shoes. He read the note again, realizing there was still a fold to the page. He unfolded it fully, a second part written below the neat pink script.

Hey Charlie boy!

You had a wild night, let me tell you. Sorry about your shoes, though. I hope you like the pair we got for you, now that you’re (hopefully) sober enough to appreciate them! I got the other two to pitch in and after a quick visit to the bank, gave you what we had on us at the time. I hope that helps kick start that payback thing, but my offer still stands. I’ve got like. A LOT of pirate treasure left over. Anyway, I hope you feel at least a little less stressed now!

Jacqueline :)

"A wild night, huh?" Charlie voiced. He leant against the couch, frowning.

He didn’t remember any of it.

He sat back on the couch, frown deepening. He would probably recall the night eventually, right? He hadn't been that fucked up...though another glance at the letter told him that perhaps he had been.

Well, first thing was first: he had a headache to take care of. Maybe that would help jump start his memories from last night. After all, he could recall how he ended up going out with the Legates easily enough...

---

"It really sounds like you've got a lot on your plate there, Charlie boy."

"Gee, thanks Jacqueline."

"You need to cut that sass, dude," Jacqueline replied, frowning. She had come up North with her brother today for a quick visit, running into Charlie as she and Jack headed towards Santa's home to chat with him. It was nice to see Charlie at first, but then it wasn't so nice when she got a closer look at him. He looked like he'd been hit by an iceberg.

So being the kind person that she was, Jacqueline had asked what was up and, well, a lot was up. Mostly school stress, of course; this was why she and the other two had dipped after the whole shadows thing. They had been to schools multiple times and didn't need the stress it caused people in this century. Seriously, the amount of sprite sleeps she had needed second semester was wild.

"You’re right, I'm sorry. I shouldn’t be taking it out on you. It's just…there's a lot going on."

"I know, you just told me. Girlfriend stuff, and school stuff, and Legate stuff. From one Legate to another, you should really chill out about the Legate stuff. Your Dad is the legendary figure like least at risk. He's very well protected—I would know."

"Right. The Dome. Ugh. I just want to finish this year and graduate and start living life, you know?"

"Totally. You know what you need?"

"A massage? A stress ball? A screaming pillow?"

"Do you mean like a pillow that you scream into, or a pillow that screams? I could get you a pillow that screams, though I don’t know why you would want that—"

"Jacqueline. It was the former."

"Oh. Good. You had me real concerned there, pal."

"Why on earth would I want a pillow that screams?!”

"I dunno, you’re the one who wanted it!”

“No I didn’t!”

Jacqueline frowned. “Anyway, what I was going to say was that you need to go out, have a drink or two, and just de-stress."

"I tried that already."

"But you didn’t try it Legate style," Jacqueline said, grinning in such a way that Charlie was immediately reminded of Jack and immediately concerned.

"What are you getting at?"

"Sometimes, Dite, Xander, and I go out and about and just kinda, you know, have some drinks and de-stress together."

"How is it different from what I would do with Cass and Brian and Derrick?"

"Because we're magical! We're headed out at eight tonight. We'll swing by here to pick you up. Sound good?"

Charlie had thought for a moment. It couldn’t hurt, he thought. What’s the worst that could happen while out with three super powerful magical people?

"You know what, yeah. Yeah! It does sound good. I'll see you then. What should I wear?"

"Casual dress. We usually go bar hopping in the Southern Province, so it'll be warm."

"Alright. Warm place, drinks with friends, some cool magical shenanigans…I'll be ready right at 8!"

"Cool! We'll see you then!" Jacqueline said, winking and disappearing.

---

That was how it had started, Charlie recalled clearly, as he poured himself a glass of water and helped himself to plain toast. He sat back down on the couch, wrapping the blanket around him again and eating the toast, despite his stomach's protesting. He wondered if they had any Gatorade left in the house, and headed back into the kitchen to grab some (if there was any) as well as two aspirins.

Lack of food and dehydration taken care of, he popped the aspirins and lay back down on the leather couch, the surface cool to his touch and the couch very soft (as it was a hand-me-down).

That should take care of this headache, he thought, closing his eyes as the night began to come back to him, piece by piece.

---

He knew he had felt some regret as he had realized what he had agreed to. But the truth was, studying had him stressed to the max and he had needed some unwind time—and time away from his housemates, of course. It was why he had been up at the Pole, after all.

So, telling himself that this was a good idea, and it would go alright, Charlie threw on a pair of shorts and a nice plain band shirt, and waited for his ride.

At 8 o'clock sharp when he heard the loud swish of large wings, felt a chill in the air, and remembered that really cool dream he had had the other night where he was James Bond, he realized that his ride had arrived.

"Hello, anyone home?" Xander called out.

"Yeah, just a sec!" Charlie shouted back.

"Jacqueline! Isn’t that rude?”

"It’s not like they lock the doors here at the Pole,” the sprite replied, sliding into the kitchen. "What up Charlie boy?"

"Why do you keep calling me that?" He asked, eyes focused on the note he was writing for Dad and Carol.

"I like the sound of it,” she said.

Charlie briefly looked up, skeptical.

“Okay, fine! You got me. I have not yet worked out a good nickname for you. Or at least, one that you would find nice. That’s all I’ve got at the moment," she finished with a sheepish shrug.

Charlie side-eyed Jacqueline, signing his note and leaving it on the table beside the cookies. He blinked briefly, because what he saw was something he was very not used to. Jacqueline was wearing shorts. Like, sorta short shorts. He had only ever seen her in shorts that weren't super short, mostly skirts, and more often than not her old fashioned looking princess dress. The shorts were light blue; she strode in casually, wearing a big hat and sunglasses, her white t-shirt loose and breezy.

"What?" she said, pulling her sunglasses down a bit and looking at Charlie, quizzically.

"It's just. It's weird seeing you in shorts. I'm used to the big princess dress, or, y'know, skirts."

"I do own pants, Charlie."

“My apologies, Charlie,” Xander said, entering the kitchen. “Jacqueline’s patience apparently needs work. And I thought it was just my place she barged in to all the time,” he teased.

“You guys always have the windows open, so I assumed that that meant you had a door open policy.” A pause. “Or rather, a window open policy.”

That got a laugh out of Xander. “I suppose I can’t argue with that—oof!”

“Charlie! Hello!” Xander was nearly blown over as Dite flew into the kitchen, immediately giving Charlie a very squishy, very tight hug.

“Hey Dite! Hi! I need to breath, just a friendly reminder.”

“Oh! Right! Sorry,” she said, with a very big smile. She landed, her wings giving one last flap before settling behind her.

"You’re good, Xander,” Jacqueline said, steadying the sandman.

“We definitely have a door open policy here as well,” Charlie said, catching his breath. “Dad’s off in the Workshop doing some post dinner rounds, and Carol is finishing some lesson plans up at the school. It’s just me. Well, and Buddy, but he’s been passed out for a while and Dad and Carol have magical monitors in case he wakes up. It took forever to get him to bed. He’s really chatty, so let’s hope he doesn't wake up before we leave.”

“Boom! Open door policy, therefore it’s NOT rude!” Jacqueline shouted, grinning victoriously.

“You have me there,” Xander said, hopping onto the kitchen table and sitting cross-legged. He was also dressed down, in a pair of shorts and a polo. "Ready to go, Charlie? We have a fun night planned. Once Jacqueline told us you were joining us, we did a little bit of restructuring."

"Oh geez, I didn’t mean to impose. That's sweet and all, but you really didn’t need to—"

"Nonsense!" Dite interrupted. "We bar hop usually, but knowing that you were coming I tailored it so that you could get the full experience, and not just bar hops. We're starting at our favourite little beachside bar for some singing and dancing, and then we’ll head to the Final Destination and most likely bar hop on the way there! Sometime between the two spots, shenanigans tend to ensue so we’ll see where the night takes us! Isn’t this exciting?!”

Dite was also dressed down tonight, too. Charlie didn’t see a single active weapon on her: just her charm bracelet. She wore short shorts as well, and a bright pink shirt with very poofy sleeves that sort of resembled her usual Roman wear, as Charlie called it. He had once called it a toga and Dite had given him quite the lecture on Ancient Roman and Greek fashion. He had learnt a lot that day, and had profusely apologised for low key calling Dite a prostitute. Which then had launched Dite into a whole other lecture about their worker rights and a whole slew of other issues surrounding the topic. It was a very full day of learning. A lot of learning. But way more engaging then his school lectures had been.

“That first stop is the one with the karaoke, right?” Xander asked.

“It is our favourite for a reason,” Dite replied, winking. “I probably should’ve been more specific. Whoops!”

“Dite, are you already forgetting the little things? We haven’t even started yet!” Jacqueline teased.

“Or have we?” Dite teased back with a wink.

“Oh my goddess, you absolute party animal, you pre-d?”

“Sorry to interrupt, but uh. This sounds like a really busy and full plan you guys have here. Are we going to be able to do it all?”

There was the briefest of silences, and then all three Legates burst into laughter. Jacqueline was doubled over. "Will we be able to do it all," she gasped, leaning on Dite's arm, the love goddess wiping away a tear.

"Of course we will!" Dite said, grinning.

"If you guys say so. It just sounds like a lot and you know what they say, Rome wasn't built in a day."

Dite’s face immediately grew serious. “Don’t get me started,” she said.

---

Gatorade in hand, a second one in the other hand for good measure, Charlie sat up on the couch, debating if he should trudge upstairs to his room or not. The house was silent, and weirdly clean—not that he’d complain. He assumed that everyone was out and about, seeing as how it had to be nearly three in the afternoon. It was Monday, after all, and the final week of the term. And although his Mondays were free with not a single class in sight, the others had their own stuff to do. Mondays were usually quiet. A relief, since he really did not want his housemates to see him like this. Why the heck had the Legates dropped him off here?!

His stomach flopped. I need to get horizontal, he thought, falling back onto the couch. He bundled tighter in the blanket, closing his eyes and hoping for sleep.

---

“—and that’s why Nero TOTALLY burnt down the city himself.”

“Can I source you in my essay?”

“I think it would depend on your prof and how credible they think “Source: Hedone, Goddess of Pleasure, who was there” would be,” Dite said with a giggle. “Oh! Have you eaten yet, Charlie?”

“Uh, like an hour or so ago I had a small dinner.”

“Oh! Good! That means you’re probably starving. Humans have to eat every three hours or so, correct?” Xander asked, brushing snowflakes off of him. Jacqueline had poofed them over to their very first stop for the night, resulting in a spattering of snowflakes all over the four Legates.

“Something like that, yeah.”

“Excellent!” Dite said, with an excited clap. “Because guess what lives across the street from our first stop?”

“Uh…a restaurant?”

“Food AND drinks! Let’s motor,” Dite said, stirring up quite the breeze as she hovered over to the left most building.

“What about the karaoke place?”

“Can’t get decently drunk on an empty stomach,” Jacqueline said, breezing in behind Dite, who had already run to the hostess.

“Come now Charlie, let’s go! This place will barbecue anything.”

“Anything?” Charlie asked.

“Anything!”

Sure enough, as they were seated and Charlie had his first drink, he discovered that yeah, they would barbecue anything. Even if it wasn’t edible, just for “funsies”, as their waiter said. They barbecued all sorts of foods, including ice cream, which Charlie and Jacqueline had an absolute riot over. Their bellies full and dessert on their brains, they all did a round of shots.

“To a good night!” Xander said.

The glasses clinked. They cheered. Four shot glasses slammed down onto the wooden table at the same time, a second round ordered.

That’s when the night really began.

---

Hand shaky, Charlie pulled the handle and flushed the toilet. He fell forwards onto the blanket with a soft thunk, drowned out by the rush of the toilet bowl draining and refilling.

The toast was a bad idea. He was absolutely fucked up today, he was realizing. The real question now was, had it been worth it?

He thought of the barbecued ice cream. Totally worth it, he thought.

I disagree, said his stomach, as Charlie found himself staring into the toilet bowl all over again.

---

By the time they finally made it to the beachside karaoke bar, Charlie was absolutely, without a doubt, whatever was between tipsy and drunk.

His recollections were fuzzy now, but he had decent memories of the night before, as he thought about it. It probably had to do with Crystal Springs being the home of the literal source of all magic. The other Legates seemed alright. Dite was definitely buzzed. Jacqueline was without a doubt at least tipsy. Xander seemed okay, though.

“Here we bar!” Xander said. “It’s our favourite are!”

“You mean here we are, it’s our favourite bar?” Jacqueline asked.

“That’s what I said,” Xander replied.

So Xander was also somewhere between tipsy and buzzed, Charlie had thought. He laughed.

“Why is this the favourite bar?” Charlie asked.

“I am so glad you asked!” Dite replied. “The best mixed drinks, the most pleasant atmosphere, it’s right beside the BEACH! AND! It has KARAOKE! WHO’S COMING WITH ME FIRST?” Dite asked. “JACQUELINE, THANKS FOR VOLUNTEERING!”

“I didn’t—”

But the protest was lost as Dite grabbed her hand and flew to the stage, Jacqueline dangling behind her. Charlie and Xander claimed some bar stools and ordered some drinks, watching the duo sing their hearts out, to much applause and singing along!

“Better buck up, Charlie boy! One of us is going to be next.”

“I can buck up alright,” Charlie said and, with the confidence only a drunk teen could have, stood up and yelled, “SHOW ME YOUR BELLY BUTTON, XANDER!”

“I beg your pardon?!”

“Bartender! An tequila, please!”

“I don’t like where this is going,” Xander said. “Why do you need my belly button?” The sandman looked mortified, his hands unconsciously pulling his shirt down.

“Body shots, duuuh.”

“No thank you.”

The tequila appeared on the counter. “Suit yourself,” Charlie said, grabbing the tequila and pouring it into one of the empty shot glasses. He downed it, then a second one, then a third one.

“See? I BUCKED UP!”

“I am thoroughly disgusted and yet, oddly impressed.”

“Shanks!”

“Wou’re Yelcome! Wait. That didn’t sound right.” Xander looked perplexed.

“I need a HERO! I’m looking out for a HERO TIL THE END OF THE NIGHT! An’ she’s gotta be fast and she’s gotta be strong and she’s gotta be larger than li—woOP she got me!”

Jacqueline was laughing as Dite grabbed her from behind and swopped her around. Charlie squinted.

“She’s like a sack of potatoes to you, isn’t she?”

“Mmmmm not quite! More like an oddly cold body pillow? A small weighted blanket? No no no those are definitely heavier.”

“Dite is BUFF!” Jacqueline said. “And LARGER THAN LIFE!”

“Well I CAN be but then Charlie’d go insane.”

“Whaddaya mean? Demigods don’t make people go insane, my classics prof said so.”

“FIRST of all,” Dite began, putting Jacqueline down. “If it’s still Carson, he doesn’t know a thing about a thing, okay? SECONDLY, I’m a full goddess! A very minor one but godly on BOTH sides! SURE Mom was HUMAN when I was a FETUS but she’s ALSO A GODDESS now and BECAME one BEFORE I was born so THERE.”

“Oh my god, Dite, have you ever,” Charlie paused to laugh, “Have you ever looked at some dude you’re beating up. And like. And just frosting said this isn’t even my final form and then frosting gone all super sayan and made them go insane?” He was practically choking on laughter now, though something seemed...weird.

Dite frowned. “No, I don’t think so. But I’ll keep that in mind next time I’m messing somebody up!”

“You could mess me up and I’d thank you,” Jacqueline said. She held an orange drink with a little umbrella in her hand. She stared at it intently, the liquid becoming slushier. “Heh. Nice.”

“That makes no sense,” Xander said, looking up from a pyramid of empty shot glasses he had been building. “Why would you thank her for messing you up? I’d be very upset if someone messed me up.”

“Because she’s a pretty badass.”

There was a pause while Xander failed to understand.

“I’m more even confused now!”

“Xander, have some water,” Jacqueline replied. She squirmed out of Dite’s grip and grabbed a glass, magically filling it up with ice.

“There’s no glass in this water.”

“That sounds like a good thing,” Charlie replied.

“Xander I know a perfect song for your confused butt, let’s go,” Dite said, grabbing Xander and rushing off, the young man practically airborne with how fast she was going.

“My pyramid!” He shouted behind him, as the shot glasses fell.

Charlie tried to lurch forwards to stop them from falling and breaking, but only succeeded in causing a dizzy spell and falling off of his stool and into something cold.

“Good thing those are plastic,” Jacqueline said.

“Oh, you’re the something cold!”

She snickered. “I think you need some water too, ginger baby.”

“Ginger baby?”

“Cause Santa is like. A gingerbread man and you’re like. A tiny Santa. What’s the word, it’s my literal job—”

“Legate?”

“YEAH! THAT! Thanks, Charlie. Here’s some water.”

“No, YOU.”

“I’ll have you know this smoothie has none alcohol in it!”

“Still not water,” Charlie said, downing his. Mmm. Refreshing, he thought.

“I make ‘em that way,” Jacqueline replied, wiggling her fingers.

“Oh, I said that out loud?”

“Yeah buddy. Man, you need to get your sleet together.” She leant in close dramatically. “You’re next,” she said. Charlie had nearly paled before noticing her tilt her chin towards Dite and Xander, who were loudly singing along to Short Skirt, Long Jacket.

“That’s like. The least of my tinsel that needs to be put together. I am so frostbitten stressed out Jacquie.” That also sounded weird to him. Why did that sound weird?

“Excuse me bartender, could I get another orange smoothie thing?”

“Of course! Shall I put it on Mr. Frost’s tab?”

Jacqueline snickered. “Yes, absolutely! He’ll pick it up next time he’s in.”

The bartender nodded and brought the smoothie over asap. Jacqueline slid it towards Charlie. “Now dish, Charles.”

“That’s not my name.”

“Really? Your parents just. Named you Charlie?”

“Yeah? What’s so bad about that? I like my name, thank you very much!”

Jacqueline was suddenly very interested in her drink. “You were saying? About how stressed you were? Talk to me, Charlie.”

---

And he had gone OFF, Charlie remembered. He buried his head in his pillow, his comforter cocooned around him. He curled up in his bed, pretty sure that he had nothing left to throw up. The nausea was subsiding, for the most part. As was the haze over the night. He felt his cheeks getting red with how much he had told Jacqueline!

He had gone off about the workload he had this year, and the two reports he had due the same day as a take home exam. That had led into how he couldn’t find a spot to study on campus and he never had that problem back in community college, and how when he tried to study at home his housemates SOMEHOW managed to mess it up. And that had opened up a whole other bag of worms about chores not getting done and dishes being left around and the dog versus cat fight between Cass and Derrick. Which had led into him lamenting how much he missed Danielle, and how stressed he was that he barely had time to see her and how he was trying very hard to hide the fact that his Dad was fucking Santa Claus and then drunk Charlie had decided that then and there was a good time to differentiate the different ways you could say the word “fuck” and it was mortifying.

He recalled several smoothie things going down the hatch, and Dite and Xander popping back in before popping back out—some magibeans had cornered Xander and wanted to see the dream sand do its work and Dite had somehow found a dart and was watching one couple with interest and woah there, he said to himself. These thoughts were becoming incredibly run on.

“Alright Charlie, deep inhale…and hold…and exhale. Breath. Good. It’s fine! It’s really not that embarrassing and Jacqueline would have told me if she didn’t want to hear it…right?”

He closed his eyes, and his train of thought and recollections from last night began to blur together.

---

“Dude, I know that your dad isn’t frosting Santa Claus and that he is Santa and the frost was just added for flavour. I may be censored by magic, but I know my way around the f-word pal.”

“Gosh Jacqueline, I’m just so stressed and TIRED and like. ONE MORE SEMESTER and then I’m DONE and I can take up residency up North with Dad—oh dang. I’m gonna have to pay back my student loans!” Charlie made a very odd noise in his throat, that sounded like a scream that had screamed far too soon. “That’s so many monies!”

“Like, how much monies? I have a huge collection of pirate booty in my closet, do you want me to help you at all—”

Charlie’s hand shot up, and landed on Jacqueline’s entire face. “Sssshhhhh, It’s FINE! It’s my responsibility I gotta take it! And do it myself!”

“Alright, alright, chill out,” Jacqueline said, picking up his wrist and dropping his hand. “Look Charlie, you’re almost done! You’re so close! And your last semester is next right? Or do they do quarters…”

“’s semesters and ye, you’re right, but like. It's just a lot, you know? Do you know?”

“Charlie I may be old as sleet but I know, dude. I’ve been around, experienced stuff, whatever. Anyway, you got a lot going on. It frostbitten sucks pal. Next one’s on me, alright?”

“Oh kay, cool cool cool cool cool.”

“I GOT THEM!” Dite said, flying over to the pair and stirring up quite the breeze. “Look at them CUDDLE!” she nearly squealed with excitement. Sure enough, the couple from earlier was getting really cozy in the booth.

“Nice one, Dites.”

“Thank you, Charlie! It’s ma job,” she said, with a wink.

“A fruity one for the lady? Make it pink?” Jacqueline asked the bartender.

“Sure thing,” he said, zipping away. A pink smoothie arrived around the same time Xander did, dusting dream sand off of his pants.

“It really sticks to non-dream sand clothes,” he murmured. “Miss did I what?”

“I’ll catch you both up,” Jacqueline said gently.

Charlie was chewing his straw. He wasn’t paying attention to what Jacqueline was saying. He was too busy thinking about everything he had just told Jacqueline, and also wondering where Dite had gotten the dart from, and there was something…else brimming just below the surface that he didn’t quite understand. He ordered an old fashioned and was nearly halfway through it when a tap on his shoulder broke him out of his silent thoughts.

“Hey Charlie,” Dite said softly, smiling sweetly. “It’s your turn.”

“For what?”

“Karaoke of course! And since this is your first time out with us, I’ll let you pick the song,” she said, winking and leaning in close.

Charlie started laughing the moment the thought came into his head. “Do you know…fff…d’you know. What would be….fffhAhaHA…so god dang funny??” he broke down into a giggle fit.

“What would?”

He whispered it into Dite’s ear, laughing now. She grinned, wings fluttering. “Let’s go let’s do it RIGHT NOW—Jacqueline, you’re gonna LOVE this!”

And Charlie had been rushed away by the goddess, Xander and Jacquie sharing a look. Charlie had made sure to look directly at the pair as the song he had so carefully chosen rang out around the bar. A collective groan resounded. Jacqueline snorted, blue smoothie coming out of her nose. Xander brightened—quite literally.

“I song this love!” he shouted. “Good choice, Charlie!”

“WE’RE NO STRANGERS TO LOOOOOVE,” Charlie belted out. “YOU KNOW THE RULES AND SOO DO I!”

They had only just made it to the course when the bouncer came over. “NEVER GONNA GIVE YOU UP, NEVER GONNA LET YOU DOWWWWN,” Charlie remembered singing as the large orc stopped at the base of the stage. He was confused, and kept singing, glancing over to the other two Legates. Jacqueline was doubled over, coughing and laughing; Xander was hitting her back.

“Can we at least finish the song?” Dite asked the orc.

“…alright, fine.”

“NEVER GONNA TELL A LIE, AND HURTT YOU!”

The song ended and the Orc waited for them by the stairs. He put a firm hand on each shoulder. “Our policy states that when the rick rolling starts, you’ve had too much. Great rendition though, one of the best I’ve heard. We’ll be seeing you Legates, yeah?” he said as they passed through the door.

“Of course!” Dite said. “See you next time, Fred!”

Fred the Orc nodded, popping back in and coming out with Xander and Jacqueline, who was still laughing.

“You frostbitten RICK ROLLED them! I’m dying that was hilarious!”

“I never understood that policy,” Xander said as he was placed down. “It’s a good song.”

“Xander do you know what a meme is?” Charlie asked.

“Pardon me?”

---

Charlie chuckled, curled up in his bed. That had been. Hilarious and he definitely didn’t regret that. Though it was a good policy for cutting people off, he thought. He couldn’t quite recall how he had explained the concept of a meme to Xander, but sometime between the start of his explanation and the end, they had made it to their final stop of the night.

---

At first, he wasn’t sure if it was his sight or just the way the place looked. But as they approached, Charlie realized it was, in fact, the way this club looked.

It was like nothing he had ever seen before. The building was surrounded by sand—as most things in the Southern Province were, Charlie was learning—and completely open concept. There wasn’t even a DOOR, it was just an archway with two burly nearly human looking people blocking it. He squinted. They kind of had wolfish features…oh! OH!

“Dude,” Charlie whispered to whoever was beside him. “Are those werewolf guards? Werewolves are REAL?!”

“Well yes, of course they’re real! They’re as real as you or me, Charlie. And nearly look just as human as us!”

Charlie did a triple take to see who was at his side. “Whaddabout your wings? That’s not very human looking.”

“Or is it?” Dite teased.

Charlie squinted, nearly crashing into one of the guards. “Oh. Sorry.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it kid. ID please?”

“Oh…uh…” Charlie pated his pockets before pulling out his wallet. “Here. I’m not from here but I swear my ID is real and not a fake.”

“Don’t worry about it, we see magibeans from all over, kid. Looks good, here you go. And here’s your glow bracelet—that’ll let you move in and out of the place freely. Enjoy!”

“And don’t forget the complimentary sunglasses if you folks are prone to eyestrain or seizures,” the other guard said, holding out four pairs of sunglasses.

Jacqueline and Dite pulled out their own. Xander grabbed a pair, thanking the guard, and passed one over to Charlie.

They walked in and Charlie had to lift his jaw from the floor. The music was loud, and there were magibeans everywhere from all over, just like the guard had said! There were the usual fairies and pixies, and an elf or two here and there, and a whole host of other beings! Two dragons were flying around above everyone, glow bracelets all over their wings and scales and legs, intertwining with each other to the beat of the music. The building didn’t have a roof, but it had several levels of dance floor, covered with magibeans. The structures were dark but the floors were flashing all sorts of colours. Lights on the walls moved about, in all sorts of colours, going in and out of each other and shining throughout the different parts of the club.

Charlie threw on his shades, glad Xander had grabbed them for him. “Guys I am losing my MIND-O!”

“I just gave you happening, that should NOT be sunglasses!”

“No like not literally! I’m just. This really is tons of fun and so different and colourful and the breeze through the building? That’s excellent! This is excellent! Thank you so, soo much guys I am APPRECIATE!”

“You’re welcome Charlie! We’re so happy to have you with us tonight!” Dite said, her wings fluttering happily. She squished her hands together, the biggest grin on her face.

“What did I tell ya, Charlie boy-o? Legate style,” Jacqueline said with a silly little shoulder shimmy.

“This place needs some DREAM SAND,” Xander shouted, and suddenly the place was covered in golden sand, revealing the structure to be not as dark as Charlie had initially thought, and a little bit on the rocky side of things. The dream sand wove through the crowds, taking on different shapes and forms as each dancer touched it. It glinted in the lights, leaving the place hazy. Cheers erupted all around. “What are we waiting for, Legates? Shall we?”

Time blurred together as Charlie danced his butt off. Drink stations were all over the place, people moving freely in and out to enjoy the sand and the water just outside. The breeze running through the place took the edge off of the heat, and offered a nice respite when Charlie had tuckered himself out from dancing. He wandered to one of the open archways, enjoying the view. The moon was up in the sky, shining brightly down on the ocean. The water glinted, reflecting all of the stars in the sky, the icebergs in the distance tall shadows floating across the backdrop.

“Now that is a view I could get used to.”

“The icebergs really make it,” Jacqueline added, joining Charlie. She leaned on the other side of the archway, sipping a tall cold glass of something clear (Charlie was unsure if it was water or more alcohol).

“Dude, how are we not like DEAD right now? We have had. Many alcohols. I mean you guys are all magic so like, you don’t die of alcohol? But how am I not dead. Of alcohol.”

“Well, for starters don’t be so down on yourself. You’re a magihuman, after all. A human who’s magical, that is. So that definitely plays a part. They've also been giving you water all night. They're really good about that here, since it tends to be the final destination for most of the party goers—hence the name! The Final Destination! Plus, the mist from the springs gets EVERYWHERE and since the source of magic is here, that is, in the springs, and the water is all over the place, I think it helps curb the copious amounts we drink? I’ll definitely sleep more than four hours tonight let me tell you, and I’m sure this is going to knock out Xander.”

“Like the time with the coffee!”

“Yeah! That was funny, right into the tray—”

“The mashed potatoes went ALL OVER JACOB!”

“It’s what he deserved,” Jacqueline added, as Charlie laughed. “Anyway! Xander may be the Sandman who never sleeps, but he can sleep and will after this. He’ll make his old man proud with the amount of snoring he’ll be doing tomorrow, that’s for sure.”

“Heh. Nice.” Charlie drank more drink. Water good he thought.

“Want me to top you off?” Jacqueline said, wiggling her fingers. Ice cubes appeared in the cup.

“Thanks,” Charlie said, scanning the beach as he slurped from the straw. The ice melted FAST here. He scanned past the people standing in the waves gently lapping the shore, the handful of younger fae who may or may not have been skinny dipping, some outside dancers, a group of witches playing volleyball, a huge group of people surrounding a path of coals—wait, what?

"Is that a—are they walking on FIRE?!" Charlie said, straw from his drink still in his mouth.

"Yeap," Jacqueline replied. "It's a big thing in the South. It's used for tons of stuff. Healing, team building, confidence building, rite of passage—I think they're doing it for entertainment right now," she finished, squinting. "Or team building—Charlie? Where are you going?"

He had already crossed the room and was at the archway entrance. "I'm gonna WALK ON THOSE COALS!"

"Wait a minute Charlie, wait a minute!"

He heard a scrape and felt a rush of cold air as Jacqueline caught up to him. "Are you sure about that? They're hot as heck."

"I'm POSITIVE."

"You're also not heat resistant?"

"Excuse me, sir! I'd like to do that walking thing," Charlie said, gesturing to the path of coals.

"Of course," the faun said, gesturing to the coals. "Have you done this before?"

"Nope," Charlie said, approaching the walkway.

"Let me give you some guidance then first—uh…excuse me? Hey, sir! Sir you forgot—"

Charlie had already begun walking onto the coals. "Look! I'm doing it! This is SICK!"

"Miss Frost, are his—?"

"Yes. They absolutely are. I'm so sorry, he's a bit uh…he's a magi-human."

"Ah," the faun replied, as if that explained it.

Jacqueline cupped her hands to her mouth and yelled. "CHARLIE! CHARLIE, YOUR SHOES!"

"WHAT ABOUT THEM?" he yelled back, stopping his walk and turning in place.

"THEY'RE STILL ON AND YOU’RE STANDING IN A FLAME!"

"Huh—oh! Oh, silver bells! Silver bells fruitcake silver bells!" He had booked it off to the side right then and there, the sand around them putting out the flames of his running shoes. A good thing, too—they were a bit on fire and he wasn't heat resistant, like Jacqueline had said. "YEET," he yelled, tossing the shoes far away once they were off of his feet. They hit the ground with a soft thunk.

"Oh, that's a nice breeze," Charlie said, as Jacqueline appeared beside him.

"Thanks, I'm my own walking AC unit." she winced. "I think you did a number on your shoes," she said, heading towards them.

"Nah! It's fine! The sand took care of it!"

"Guess again, buddy."

"NO, I'm Charlie, Buddy is my brother, you know tha—oh, silver bells! My shoes!"

Jacqueline had held them in her hands. They were pretty melted, and charred in a couple places. The shoelaces had burnt off.

"That fire walk was definitely lit by Aunt Summer if it did that to your shoes."

"Wait a second. What did I just say? Silver bells? What? No, that's not what I wanted to say. What the fruitcake? WAIT! I meant fruitcake, not fruitcake—wait." That’s what had sounded weird all night! But why was it happening? His brow furrowed as he tried to piece it all together.

"It's the source. We're not sure if it's the source of magic that doesn't like swearing, or the goddess herself, but either way magic censors us big time here. So instead of saying frostbite or sleet, you say frostbite, or sleet. Or, if you’re a Christmas magic person, silver bells and fruitcake, I suppose," Jacqueline shrugged, grinning cheekily.

"Huh."

"Oh! Oh, do you know what that means?" Jacqueline asked, excited now.

"I can't say the fruitcake word?"

"It means you are OFFICIALLY a MAGICAL PERSON!" Jacqueline said, giving him a very tight hug and managing to lift him a few inches off the ground. "HECK YEAH! YOU GET CENSORED NOW TOO!"

"Oh! Hugs!” Dite yelled, low flying towards them and hugging their hug. “What did I miss?" Dite asked, squishing the daylights out of them.

"Charlie can’t swear, so now he's definitely magic," Jacqueline said. Dite had dropped them and Charlie had, unfortunately, landed on his butt not very gracefully.

"My shoes died," he pouted.

"That's rough, buddy," Xander said, arriving on the scene now with his own drink. It was in a coconut.

"I'm Charlie, not Buddy."

"Need a hand there?" Xander offered.

"Thanks bro," Charlie replied, grabbing it and pulling himself up. With a lot more help from Xander than anticipated, he realized now.

“A full-on Legate! How exciting!” Dite said, clapping and hovering once more.

“I’m not as Legaty as you guys though,” Charlie said, laying down in the sand.

“I just helped you up why would you go back into the sand? It's not even dream sand just boring. Beach sand—”

“Xander, sweetie, he’s choosing to lay in the sand,” Dite said.

“Talk to us Charlie,” Jacqueline said, plopping down in the sand beside him, putting her arms under her head.

“It’s just. Like. You do the swooshy ice things, right? And Dite,” he said, as she lay down gently, her wings whooshing sand everywhere, “She even works when she doesn’t have to!”

“I just. Love love. So much.”

“If we’re going to lay down in the sand then at least let me make it comfortable,” Xander said, laying down in the sand with a thunk, palms down and fingers spread. His hands glowed, and the sand under them lit up and did, in fact, get surprisingly more comfortable.

“And then Xander does that! Just casually! You guys are all so much more legatey than me, you even LOOK legatey—”

“You look like your Dad too, y’know,” said Dite. “Just because you don’t have a big white beard doesn’t make you any less of a Legate.”

“You’re even censored now!” Jacqueline said.

“Zzzzzzz,” said Xander.

“Oh my god, he’s asleep,” Charlie said, distracted.

“So it begins,” Jacqueline said, Dite giggling.

“Should we like, wake him?”

“Nah,” Jacqueline replied. “Let’s just kick back and enjoy the stars.”

“Look! The milky way!”

“Maybe I’ll grow a beard,” Charlie said, snuggling into the sand.

“It might suit you. But you don’t need to look the part to be a Legate Charlie. I won’t be a small old grouch when I’m Cupid. And Jacqueline's gonna be a great Jack Frost! Which is more we can say about our current Jack Frost’s status, all things considered—no offense Jacquie!”

She snorted. “Please, I’m the first one in line when it comes to talking about how Jack half assed the job for a solid five hundred years.”

“We can say ass?”

“On occasion, yes!”

“And Charlie, you know, you’ve already done a lot as Santa’s Legate!”

“Yeah! Jacquie’s right! You helped us save the Legends from Erebus and Willow!”

“We never would’ve snuck in if we hadn’t done it Charlie style! And The elves won’t shut up about the things you helped them innovate when you were like, seven, dude! That’s impressive! That’s pre-Legate years, too! Before I was a Legate I mostly wreaked havoc and froze my Dad to the floor a lot.”

“He didn’t immediately melt the cold stuff?”

“I think he was humouring me.”

It was silent. Xander's snores permeated the air, the gentle lapping of the shore and far off beats from Final Destination the only things heard in the silence.

“A beard would suit you! But not the Santa beard just yet,” Dite began. “If you want to fast grow a beard, I know a guy. He has questionable methods and isn’t the greatest in matching materials to the person. Like. C'mon buddy, your son is GAY and he wants to GET WITH APOLLO, DON’T USE WAX FOR THE WINGS! DON’T!”

“Dite you never cease to amaze me,” Jacqueline said.

“Maybe I need some more red,” Charlie began.

“OH! I’VE GOT IT!” Dite said, shooting up.

“I’m awake! I was never sleeping! Sleep is a lie!” Xander said, shooting up.

“LET’S DYE YOUR HAIR RED!” Dite finished.

“YES!” Charlie said, shooting up as well.

“Oh my goddess I cannot WAIT to see how this backfires,” Jacqueline said, getting up and dusting sand off of her legs.

“It wouldn’t shoe to get Charlie new hurt, either,” Xander said, the sand coming off of him with a wave of his hand.

“Right! Getting Charlie new shoes! A very good idea!” Dite said.

“Is that not what I said?”

“You’re still doing the word switcheroo there, bud.”

“Ah. Apologies Charlie, didn’t mean to imply that we should give you more hurt!”

“I have enough as it is,” Charlie half-joked.

“You all need more water,” Jacqueline said. Before anyone could reply, she was running full speed into the water. “CANON BALL!”

“IT’S CHEATING IF YOU FLY UP FIRST!” Charlie shouted, grinning and running in behind her.

Dite laughed and flew straight up, dive bombing in and splashing the other two. Xander waded into the shallows and waited for the three of them to stop splashing around.

“When the three of you are done, shall we head to WUTSNESS?”

“What’s What’s-Ness?”

“WUTSNESS!” Dite corrected.

“It’s how you say the first letters of WTSNS. Which is short for Where The Sun Never Sets which is basically a cross between a non-magibean Wal-Mart and a Costco.”

“Like Wal-Mart, WTSNS has everything,” Xander explained. “The difference being that like Costco, the managers at WUTSNESS treat the magibeans working there like magibeans and pay them a liveable wage, make sure they aren’t overworked, and they have insurance and a very good union!”

“In that case,” Charlie said, shaking off like a dog once he was back on the shore. “TO WHAT’S NESS!”

“WUTSNESS,” everyone corrected.

“The letter U is bull-tinsel and I dunno why Crystal Springs and Canada BOTH use it so much. Fruitcake that letter in particular!”

---

That was the last clear memory Charlie had.

He woke up, groggy, everything else coming back in hazy patches.

WUTSNESS was bright, and big, and clean and tidy and staffed entirely by vampires for the night shift. Dite had tried really hard to talk him out of bright red hair dye. Jacqueline had disappeared while they contemplated hair dye and reappeared with several pairs of shoes, and Charlie had picked the nice dark blue ones that now sat at the front door.

Xander had bought a ton of snacks, and once Charlie picked hair dye and they had left the store, things got real gross real fast.

“That’s a lot of vomit,” he remembered Jacqueline saying.

“Let’s get him home,” Xander had said.

Charlie was 90% sure that Dite had carried him home all by herself, which did not surprise him. She was built, despite her soft appearance. Charlie had once watched her bench press Jacqueline, and had seen her use Xander and Jacqueline as dumbbells. She was impressive as fuck.

He grinned a bit. It was nice to swear again.

But what the heck had happened after that?

There was a knock on his door.

“Yeah?”

“It’s Cass. Mind if I come in?”

Charlie grunted. His door opened, and Cass came in.

“Is that a DOG?”

“Her name is chocolate,” Cass said. “She’s very friendly.”

Chocolate was a huge lab, and she immediately jumped onto Charlie’s bed. He had always been a dog person, and immediately pet the crap out of Chocolate, who enjoyed it immensely. The dog snuggled up against Charlie, happily lying down.

“Did I miss something?”

“I was getting up when the Legates appeared at the front door,” Cass said. “Hedone recognized me, thankfully, and the other two dropped their guard.”

“I got home that late?”

“It was just after six,” Cass said. “AM. I felt like something nutty was about to happen so I headed downstairs and poof! Three old friends and a completely drunk Charlie.”

“That’s embarrassing.”

“It wasn’t too bad,” Cass said, sitting down on Charlie’s desk chair. “I asked why you were home, cause I had seen you staying at your Dad’s all week. According to Jacqueline, you insisted.”

“I dunno if I wanna hear the rest of this,” Charlie said, nuzzling the dog.

“I’ll stop then. I have to get Chocolate back to the shelter in a bit anyway, but I figured since Derrick wasn’t home, you’d appreciate doggo cuddles.”

“Oh my god, do I ever.” A pause. “I bet that she could win Derrick over.”

Cass laughed. “And he’ll find a cat that can win me over. Then we can have the best of both worlds, huh?”

There was something about that phrase, Charlie thought, before making a decision. “Actually, I think I do want to hear the rest.”

“If you insist!”

---

Cass had stopped at the stairs like a deer in headlights when a whirl of blue sparks and snowflakes had appeared just past the front door and turned into four whole people. She could tell from their auras who they were immediately: Charlie’s magical friends (you can’t hide that sort of thing from someone with sight). Jacqueline and Xander immediately called up projectiles when they saw her. Hedone—Dite, Cass corrected, (best use a goddess’s preferred name so as not to incur their wrath, her grandmother had said) immediately recognized her, and brightened.

“Hello Cass! You two can drop the balls,” she added.

“Pfft hahaha balls. That’s. That’s—” Charlie retched, putting his hand in front of his mouth.

“Here comes round four!” Jacquie shouted.

“Let’s get this recovery into man position!” Xander shouted. “To his bed!”

“NO! No just. Couch, please.” Charlie said, having stifled the vomit.

“Could you grab a bucket for us please, Cass?”

“Uh-yeah, sure.”

“Anyway, phrasing, Dite,” Charlie said, just before retching again. Cass had only just made it in time with the bucket, and thankfully, Charlie hadn’t missed. “You too Xander, watch your. Your phrasing. Man position in bed...heh. Gross!”

“Couldn't agree more,” said Xander.

Cass watched as a surprisingly yawny Xander carefully placed Charlie into recovery position.

“There we go. That should do it.”

“That was all SPIT! There is nothing left inside of my me, holy fuck, I wanna sleep!”

“I can help with that. Just stay put in that position...excellent! POOF!”

Golden sand billowed out from Xander’s palm, surrounding Charlie's head. He was out in moments, breathing deeply and thankfully, sleeping still.

“That should also keep him from moving out of the recovery position,” Xander said, slowly and carefully as if he had to think really hard about every word.

“Apparently I missed something?” Cass finally said.

“We took Charlie out for a night on the magic town,” Dite said. “We had fun! Charlie got a little—”

“A lot—”

“Drunk—”

“Absolutely frostbitten wasted—”

“BUT! He had fun! And I think he’s a lot less stressed right now.”

“His stress levels are down by about 70% I’d say, judging by how fast he fell asleep.” Xander yawned. “That couch looks mighty comfortable.”

“I think we need to get you home now too. Oh! Almost forgot! We have some stuff for Charlie. We’re just gonna leave it by the couch for him, so he sees it when he’s up,” Dite said, putting a neatly wrapped note and a box of hair dye—hair dye?! At the corner by Charlie’s feet.

“The conversion rate on a good quality piece of eight is CRAZY! I should deposit,” Jacqueline mussed, throwing a blanket on top of Charlie. “And we should still totally dye his hair.”

“Jacqueline he couldn’t possibly make a clear, cohesive, decision about it right now. He just laughed at me saying ‘drop the balls’. I think that speaks for itself, don’t you?”

“It’s a little funny,” Jacqueline said with a grin.

“I’ll make sure the guys don’t mess with it,” Cass said, having finally processed what she was seeing.

“Don’t mess with what?”

They turned to the stairs and froze, as Brian and Derrick were both making their way downstairs. Cass felt celestial magic settle around them. Dite must’ve cast a glamour on them.

Sure enough when Cass turned around, she was met with the very human trio that they had all initially met in first year: Amy, Alex, and Jackie. No frozen hair, no pointed ears, no wings and no glowing sandmen. Just three definitely human people, yup.

“Jackie! Amy! Alex! Hey dudes, what’s up!”

“We’re just heading out actually, Alex is crashing.”

“Big time but please don’t tell anybody I said that, I have a no-sleep reputation to keep up.”

“We all have nights like that dude,” Derrick said.

“Actually,” Jackie said, a current of ice in her voice. “I have a bone to pick with the lot of you. If you all have a moment?”

---

“She didn’t.”

“She DID! She went HAM on all of us for not doing the chores or pulling our weight and told Derrick and I that we should compromise on the cat and dog thing and you should have seen Brian and Derrick, they were absolutely gobsmacked. Brian actually did ALL the dishes!”

“All of them?!”

“Yeah! All of them!” Cass paused. “Jacqueline made a lot of good points. Sorry for not pulling my weight around here, and being so stubborn about the dog and cat thing. I cleaned the shower finally, and I’ll try to be quieter when you’re studying.”

“Oh. Well, thanks Cass. That means a lot! Apology accepted,” Charlie said, scratching the ears of the dog. “Hey Chocolate, can you go give Cass hugs from me? Go on! Hug her!”

Chocolate bounded off of the bed and ran to Cass, jumping up on her legs and licking her face.

“Alright alright cut it out! Those gross slobbery kisses make me really think Derrick has a point about cats.”

“Maybe you should tell him that?” Charlie said, sitting up in a blanket bundle now.

“Maybe. Anyway, I gotta go bring her back to the shelter.”

"She can live in my room! I’ll walk her and everything!”

Cass laughed. “We’ll have a house meeting first and discuss how everyone feels, and THEN maybe we can keep her.”

“Ou, so mature,” Charlie said.

Cass laughed. “Feel better, nerd.”

“Thanks, dork.”

Charlie pulled his blanket tighter around him. He sniffed. He smiled. His phone vibrated. It was somehow still in his pocket. He did a little shimmy and was able to grasp the case, pulling it out of his pocket. He loosened his hold on the blanket as he read the text

Hey love, I got a text from your friend Amy! She said that you weren’t feeling too great and taking a day off. I’m heading over now with snacks and your favourite Christmas films. Not Even God Could Stop Me rn so don’t you even try ;) Love you! See you soon!

Charlie grinned at the plethora of hearts and kissy faces and the one poop emoji that had snuck its way in.

I wouldn’t let him stop you. See ya soon! Love you too!

Jacqueline was right. He just needed to destress! He really had needed that night out and evidently, his friends had made sure of it. Xander had given him a good night’s rest, Jacqueline had whipped his housemates into shape, and Dite had made sure he got that sweet, sweet SO time in even after the three of them had also gotten magibean drunk last night and made sure to take very good care of him.

It was quite the balancing act, but Charlie was beginning to think he really would be able to have the best of both worlds.

[mysticsparklewings]

The Intrigue (Brush Marker Test)

So per my poll from a few days ago, the first of my drawings made testing new supplies going up is this one! Thanks to a ton of stuff getting the glorious "Clearance" tags and stickers at my local Michaels, I finally got my hands on a 6-set of Spectrum Noir Illustrator markers, which I've been wanted to try for a long time, and thanks to a well-timed sale, I also finally got my hands on four sets of 6 and a 2-pack of the Winsor and Newton Brushmarkers that I've been wanting to try for an equally long time. I decided to put the two different kinds of markers together for this test because even with 26 markers by Winsor and Newton, I felt I was still lacking just enough colors to get a good range to work with, (this is also the reason I usually grab whatever markers from just whatever sets I have when I'm just drawing to make art and not to test specific supplies) and only having 6 Spectrum Noir markers to use...well, that would've made for a very challenging drawing, now wouldn't it? After swatching the markers out, I was really drawn to some of the colors in the Portrait set from Winsor & Newton, and after staring at my options for a while, I felt like drawing a long-haired vampire dude would be fun and get the best use out of the colors I had. So I did I will say that the one major problem I had during this process, and it's actually fairly obvious (although I did choose to accentuate it on the shirt) is that the markers kept smearing my lines. Which is strange and confusing because I used a cobalt Copic Multiliner, which is supposed to be "water and Copic proof." So you'd think since these markers are alcohol-based like Copics, that everything would be okay. Apparently not! My best guess is that this ink (mostly the Winsor and Newton markers; the Spectrum Noir markers seemed to fair a bit better) dries more slowly or has more dye/pigment in it, or something. My original thought was that I had just made some of my lines too thick, but then I had the same problem a couple of times in areas where the lines were thinner/their original weight, so there went that theory. (Although the thicker lines probably didn't help, but I did that before I knew that was going to be a problem and it wasn't like I could suck the pen ink back up to fix it.) Anyway. Other than that, I liked both kinds of markers pretty well. The Winsor and Newton markers remind me a LOT of the Prismacolor Brush Markers, which are actually my favorite of all the alcohol-based markers that I've tried. Other than visual differences between markers, and the Prismacolor markers having a brush tip and bullet tip while the W&N markers have a brush tip and chisel tip, the main thing is the tips of the W&N markers are a tiny bit softer than the Prismas, and the Prismacolor markers have slightly more friction on the paper; they "stick" a bit more, but it's a very very veeeeery subtle difference. My only issue with the Spectrum Noir markers is I'm a little concerned about how long the brush nibs are going to last. They seem like they could be in very early stages of desalinization--a thing that can happen to all alcohol-based markers, including Copics, but tends to happen more commonly in older markers or markers with a very short shelf life just because of the formula used to make the ink. In this case, I'm inclined to believe it's more to do with how long the markers have been sitting in the store, unsold. There was a thin layer of dust across the top of the box, and this was the one set of about five options available that got a clearance sticker. And so, if that is the case, I will forgive it. The other part of the nib problem though is that the nibs do seem pretty spongey/foam-like instead of more of a nylon/silicone feel like Copics or Prismacolor markers have. This isn't necessarily a bad thing, but it does point to the nibs potentially wearing out more quickly over time and/or with heavy use. I didn't have any issues while swatching or working on this drawing, but I will be exceedingly careful to try and not push my luck going forward, just because I'm a paranoid little potato after the hot mess that was the one set of Artist Loft markers I bothered to pick up. (Those nibs, for context, were awful and have started to collapse with very little use). Other than that, I don't really have much more to comment on. Both markers blend really well, and the Winsor and Newton markers, in particular, seemed to be very forgiving in terms of not being patchy if you laid them down inconsistently, and they soften out to a smooth blend pretty well, especially if you use more of a flicking technique while layering up the colors. The shadows aren't terribly dark in part because I only had so many colors to pick from and also because I am notoriously skittish about accidentally getting my shadows too dark on my alcohol marker pieces anyway. But I think Mr. Vampire here turned out pretty good despite that. I did have to touch up a few colors in Photoshop because my scanner kinda messed them up, but I think that's more user-error and my scanner being finicky than it is any fault of the markers. Speaking of which, I did the soft green background with a Pan Pastel to tie in with the green in his eyes, and the triangle-border thing saw the triangles filled in with some tri-tone pencils (a couple by Koh-i-noor and a couple by Crayola) that I acquired recently. I thought it would breathe a little more life into things, and I think I was right. I think it also ties the otherwise random colors together a little bit more. I added the border at all because I had kinda already decided on the pose I wanted to try for a vampire character, since the kind of character was where my color options led me, and while I could have just left it without, it felt kind of lacking without something to more formally ground the character, and as I said the colors feel a bit random without something to strengthen their presence. Which is ironic because the structure of the border was almost completely random, and yet my brain looks at it and just kind of glosses over that knowledge . Overall, I like the markers and I'm happy without how my tall, pale, and mysterious character turned out. Though for some reason I get "hypnotism" vibes from the final product; I think maybe it's the pose, the nature of triangles, and the seductive part of vampire lore combined that's giving me that impression? I'm not really sure.   He's not terribly original, but I may end up using this character again in the future since I do like his general design so much and how nicely he turned out here, we'll see. ____ Artwork © me, MysticSparkleWings ____ Where to find me & my artwork: My Website | Commission Info + Prices | Ko-Fi | dA Print Shop | RedBubble |   Twitter | Tumblr | Instagram