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Apartment 309E



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Sat May 16, 2020 5:59 pm
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Mageheart says...



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a saeverse production

The ad for Apartment 309E wasn't anything special, save for it being listed both online and in paper. Neither was the apartment itself; it was just a collection of four bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen, and a main room. Its prices were reasonable, and the landlord didn't ask many question. Maybe that was why four very interesting individuals found themselves roommates - though they had no idea that any of the others were special.

For as long as humans have roamed the earth, people who are distinctly not human have roamed it, too. Some of them were supernatural in origin. Others were from far away worlds and dimensions. Others still didn't really fit into any of the categories. But as time went on thing, they all found something in common. They realized that the best way to survive was to blend in with the humans quickly taking over the world.

These people typically run into each other only occasionally, but there are exceptions. Apartment 309 was one of them. And because the four roommates had grown so used to hiding the truth about themselves, they were all convinced everyone but themselves were humans.

This is a story of the four of them living together - and slowly but steadily realizing that their supposedly human roommates were just a little more special than they appeared.

cast

@Magebird
@soundofmind
@TheMulticoloredCyr
mage

[ she/her, but in a boy kinda way ]

roleplaying is my platonic love language.

queer and here.





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Mon Jun 08, 2020 1:58 pm
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Mageheart says...



Daniel Leeds


If he had to rate this situation, it would be somewhere in the top ten list of stupidest things he had ever done. Daniel, as a rule, didn’t like to think of himself as stupid. He liked to think of himself as rather smart - especially in comparison to some of the people he occasionally worked with. But going over the list of what had happened in the past few minutes in his head, Daniel knew this idea was just below deciding to share a place with other people.

It was time to step back a bit.

It was the middle of the night. Daniel had come to this forest on the edge of the city his apartment because there had been reports of a cryptid or similarly supernatural creature. He had taken them with a grain of salt, of course, but it didn’t hurt to be too careful. If he was lucky, he could add another cryptid to his so-called collection of cryptids. Every new one, after all, was the boost to his credibility that he desperately needed.

But he hadn’t found a cryptid.

The woods had been empty, save for the occasional animal. And Daniel, who hadn’t been able to be himself since he moved into Apartment 309E, really needed to stretch his legs and his senses. He had let down his magic for just a minute before he had the unlucky luck of running into a cryptid hunter. One that he had met last year, back when they had both gone to Point Pleasant during the Mothman Festival.

The man wasn’t exactly smart, and probably wouldn’t recognize just a silhouette. Still, Daniel wasn’t willing to take chances. He darted off into the woods before the man could get close enough for a look. All the man got was an ominous running sound and bushes shaking.

But Daniel’s plan had one little problem.

He forgot how clumsy he got when he traded boots for hooves.

One tumble down a hillside later, and Daniel knew he was going to be hurting for the next few days. He let out a groan when he was sure the hunter had passed, leaning his head back against the cliff bank.

Fu-

xXx

When Daniel returned to their apartment that night, it was with a twisted ankle that refused to heal itself. He knew it was because he was focusing all of his magic on keeping up the guise of being human, but it still made him feel a little frustrated. He knew he probably looked like he had come back from a fight or something, considering how late it was and how dirty he was when he limped inside.

Thankfully, everyone was off in their own rooms - either sleeping or doing something else. He knew that he was going to get questions in the morning, but he could come up with some flimsy excuse when he got up in the morning.

In the meantime, he’d catch up on some reading.

The latest edition of The Skeptic had just come in. He could care less for most of the magazine, but he was always entertained by one specific reporter in particular. Grabbing the copy from his desk, he threw himself down onto his bed (wincing when he felt his ankle hit the mattress) and started flipping through its pages.

He stopped when he finally got to the article he was looking for.

It was a review on a Buzzfeed Unsolved episode. He definitely enjoyed reading it, but the real reason to read it was its writer: Benjamin Frost. He always looked so shy in the photos of the writers the magazine included, but Daniel had realized awhile ago that Benjamin often let his real emotions and personality slip through in his articles.

Daniel prided himself on picking up on that side of him; from the articles he wrote, it was pretty clear he didn't have anyone he was all that close to.

...Daniel could relate a lot to that.

But midway through the article, he sighed and let it rest on his stomach.

He might have had a slightly ulterior motive to reading his articles. He couldn’t help but have a crush on a guy he’d never have the chance to meet. Even if he someday did meet him, it’d never work out. Dating someone like him would easily claim the number one spot on the list of the stupidest things he had done in his life.

That was how Daniel fell asleep that night: ankle throbbing and The Skeptic laying on his chest.
mage

[ she/her, but in a boy kinda way ]

roleplaying is my platonic love language.

queer and here.





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soundofmind says...



Wilson Smith
written with @magebird


Pretending to sleep was always so strange.

Wilson stared at the ceiling on her loft bed, studying the little bumps on the popcorn ceiling. Each one was a slightly different shape and popped out in its own little bulbous way. She'd stuck a few of those glow-in-the-dark stars over them (somehow they stuck to the rough surface, she didn't overthink it) and they stared back at her in their sickly green glow. They were nothing like real stars, of course, but it was the next best thing. It wasn't like she had a window on the ceiling.

Now that she had the idea though, she kind of wanted to make that happen. A window on the ceiling, that is. But she didn't want to anger the landlord a month after moving in. That, and that meant having to explain how she knew how to install a window into a ceiling. But the main reason, above all else, was because the ceiling wouldn't even open up to the sky. It would just look up into someone's room.

And that would be awkward.

She rolled over with a sigh. Every night she kept herself busy during the minimum of four hours that she was expected to sleep, occasionally leaving a body pillow of herself in her place while she left the house undetected. It wasn't like she had to use the doors or anything. But every monday night she stayed in just to challenge herself. She liked to see if she could entertain herself in her head, and she always could.

Tonight, she imagined herself as a tiny snail on a long grassy leaf, trying to make it to another leaf that met hers at the tip. It was a nice, gradual climb. She imagined "El Muchacho De Los Ojos Tristes" playing in the background.

Just as she snailed her way to the tip of the grass blade she heard the front door open and close.

Oh! That had to be Daniel. He'd been out all night, off doing whatever Daniels did in the darkness. Probably skipping rocks in lakes and brooding. He seemed like he would brood when no one was looking. Maybe. That, or he ran off to dance clubs. Now that would be exciting. She tried to imagine Daniel at a rave and while it felt completely out of character it was oddly amusing and exciting. She wanted to go to a rave party...

Wilson pushed her body pillow out of the way and clambered out of bed. She twirled in her nightgown and wiggled her toes.

It was rave time.

xXx


She popped up in her bed, narrowly NOT hitting the ceiling with her face as she jumped down, skipipng the ladder entirely. Her heart was still racing as she threw on a black crop top and little jean shorts, leaving her nightgown on the floor because that was what people did. They were messy! And that was good.

Wilson tied up her thick black hair atop her head and spun it around, shoving it into a messy bun before swirling around to look in the mirror atop her desk.

Oh, that was lovely. She still had stripes of glitter on her cheeks. Her face was so wonderfully sparkly.

She bounced on her feet before strolling with a comically "cartoonish" walk to the door, arms swinging slowly at her sides. She kept the gait up as she walked out her door and only had to pause when she saw Daniel's door open up beside hers.

"Oh!" she said, eyes bright and wide as she saw him emerge, bleary eyed and limping.

Maybe he'd gone to a fight club (but you weren't supposed to talk about fight club, so that would make sense). She could see that.

"You look like you need a pick-me up," she said.

Daniel gave her a groggy yet confused look. "...You have glitter on your face."

Wilson smiled, nodding with vigor. "Do you like it?"

He smiled, though it was borderline a tired smirk. "I always like glitter."

Wilson let out a very tiny gasp and wiped her cheek with two fingers. She offered her now glittery fingers out towards him. "You want some?"

He studied it for a minute before holding up a hand.

"I'll pass for now," he said. He went to take a step forward - heading for the kitchen - but winced as left foot hit the ground. "Do we have any Ibuprofen kicking around the apartment?"

"I have some in my room!" she said. "I don't know what it'll do for an sprained ankle or whatever it is you got, but I can grab it if you want."

"Thanks," Daniel said, giving a somewhat pained smile. "I'd appreciate it."

"I gotchu bro." Wilson nodded and spun back to her door, dashing in at an unecessary speed. It took her a good two seconds to rush into her room, open a drawer of her desk and pull out the little pill bottle. She paused though, with it in hand, and slowly glanced back at her closet, humming at a low pitch in the back of her throat.

"Eep!" she chirped as she dashed again, this time to her closet, and flung the sliding door open before sticking her hand into the clothing wall and pulling out two crutches. Ah, yes. Just what she always wanted.

She hurried back out into the hall with the crutches in one hand and the pill bottle in another. With a big grin she held both out towards Daniel.

"So, what's your cover story?" she asked. "Did you get mauled by a bear? Save a kid from a mugger? Kick a bully's butt?"

Daniel mulled over his options, hand resting underneath his chin and the smirk still dancing on his lips.

"All of those have potential," he admitted, "but I think the best story is the one that hits closest to home. What do you think happened?"

Wilson blinked. She stared at him blankly for a second before she launched into her quick-spoken monologue.

"I think last night you left to go on an important mission. Your estranged uncle called you up and told you your great grandmother had gone missing. Everyone in your family said she probably just went out to care for her garden and fell somewhere. There was a hill nearby, anyway. She could've rolled somewhere, and oh, poor grandma! But your uncle had reason to believe that something different happened, because lo and behold, your great grandmother lives in the deep woods of Oregon, home to the great bigfoot - and we all know what that means. No one can truly see Bigfoot and live to see another day - at least, not in civilization! But maybe in Bigfoot's secret, underground dwelling, that obviously smells of feet."

"So your uncle told you someone needed to get to the bottom of this. Bigfoot's last sighting was in the woods a few miles from here, and Bigfoot needed to pay. Someone needed to get to the bottom of this. So you ran out into the night with your knife and your shotgun, ready to avenge your great grandmum."

"For hours you scoured the depths of the wood looking for signs, but you came up empty. It was 3, no, 4am. You were losing track of time, and hope seemed lost. All your clues were coming up empty. You might never see great grandma again. But then, you heard a shuffle in the trees, and caught a glimpse of movement. It was something big. Something tall. Someone hairy. And you made a dash for it, your blood pumping, adrenaline coursing through you like your life depended on it. Like your grandmother's life depended on it! But when you finally caught up, you were surrounded by the brush and your vision was clouded by the thick of the leaves and trees, and you hit what felt like a tree, but you knew it wasn't."

"You sent a shot up into the dark, but it was fruitless. Big, giant, hairy hands ripped your gun away from you and you were pulled up off the cold forest floor."

"You thought you were done for, but you couldn't forget your trusty knife."

She made a stabbing gesture in the air with the hand holding the ibruprofen bottle. The pills clattered.

"STAB! Right in his arm! And his big 'ol claw released you, giving you just enough time to scramble away! Running, running, because you always knew Bigfoot was big - that was in his name! But this was so much more than you'd imagined!"

"And then, just as you made some distance between you and the biggest foot of all, SNAP! You tripped on something. A root, a branch, a fallen leaf. You never found out. All you know is you had to keep running, and you pushed yourself to your feet and didn't look back until you made it home."

Wilson stopped, letting out a dramatic heave of a sigh before standing up and smiling brightly.

"And that's how you twisted your ankle!"

Daniel didn't say anything for the first few moments that followed Wilson's impromptu monologue. When he finally did speak, he looked amused - but the smile on his lips didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Well, there you have it," he said. "The story of how I twisted my ankle - even though I don't have a great grandmother."

"Well, not anymore, obviously," Wilson said with a wave of her hand, still holding the ibruprofen. "She's long gone."

"Oh, yes," he said. "Of course."

As he took the Ibuprofen from Wilson, he absentmindedly pulled out his phone and checked the time. His eyes - just a bit too white in the current lighting of the apartment - widened in alarm.

He swore and slipped his phone away.

After popping a few of the Ibuprofen in his mouth, he made a (limping) beeline for his room.

"I slept in way too long," he shouted back to Wilson from inside his room. "I'm going to be late for work."

Oh yeah. That's right. Daniel had a job with set hours. Poopy!

"Do you want the crutches?" she called back from the doorway.

"Crutches would be nice," he confirmed. He tentatively sniffed his apartment, only to lean away and grimace from the smell. He quickly grabbed a shirt out of his already slightly opened dresser drawer and changed into it - seemingly not caring that Wilson was in the room.

Once the shirt was on, he put on his combat boots, too. He unsurprisingly winced when he put his left foot down.

Wilson reached into the room and leaned the crutches on the wall by the door.

"Take care of yourself, bro," she said with a nod of her head, pulling out of the doorway. "New ankles are hard to come by in this economy."

He grabbed onto the crutches.

"They really are," he agreed with an overly dramatic regretful tone. Oh, Daniel was a ham. Ripe and ready sandwich meat.

Wilson chuckled. "Okay. Well, I won't keep you! Good luck!" she chirped, before skipping off to the kitchen to make toaster waffles.
Pants are an illusion. And so is death.






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Teddybear says...



Maggie Angelos


Mornings were a tired, useless cliche and Maggie was the poor fool who brought only a ten-cent romance novel from the airport gift shop for entertainment on a sixteen-hour flight. That was to say, they forced theirself through them, reluctantly, out of necessity, not pleasure.

It was only grudgingly that they dragged herself though this one in particular. They were meeting a client today and from the chatter in the usual forums, he was a bitch to work with. A perfectionist, the rumors said, a master with contracts. Make sure to read every word.

They talked about the guy like he was one of the bloody fae. Maggie rolled their eyes over their second cup of coffee and tucked a stray strand of hair behind their ear. Guys like that were why people were so quick to dismiss whatever myth you whispered to them in the dark of the night. Could just be people. Shadows in the trees. Right.

Maggie was shaken from their thoughts by Daniel, who hobbled by on a freshly twisted ankle. Have an interesting night, did you?

He was getting ready for work, whatever 'work' was for him, and only bothered with a mumbled, "Mornin'," at them - to which he received a nod - before he was back at his routine again.

Maggie took another sip of coffee, checked their watch. It was 8:31am, half an hour before they had to get going if they were going to make it to the meeting on time.

They set their mostly-empty cup of coffee down on the coffee table. The table was probably the most expensive thing in the apartment. The base was a detailed sculpture of the Kraken carved out of a single solid piece of black marble with its tentacles all curled up around the edges of a large slab of mother or pearl that served as the tabletop. Maggie had made it, but they didn’t think any of the roommates had figured that out yet. They just knew who it belonged to, probably.

They got up off the couch - that was either one of the others’ or it had come with the apartment - and stretched. Breakfast. They needed breakfast.

They muttered something about needing to get past as they wove their way past Daniel - who was typically out of the house by now; that ankle must be slowing him down big time - and opened the fridge. Labeled leftovers piled high, not a fresh food in sight. A mountain range of reheatable food. An arena where the best leftovers would fight for the right to be eaten before time ran out, and they were sacrificed to the all mighty trash heaps.

Today saw two champions. The first was plain rice from a meal Maggie was absent for, and the other was gravy from that time Marceline made a normal amount of biscuits and far, far too much gravy. The champions did a victory lap in the microwave before taking up residence in the luxurious palace of Maggie’s stomach.

As they ate their gravy-drenched rice - which wasn’t a bad combination - they watched the others slowly get up. Well, other. Marceline was out of the house nearly an hour ago, and now it was just Wilson - energetic as usual - who came skipping out of her room with a look like a happy golden retriever, completely unperturbed by the early hour as she went annoyingly energetically through her morning routine. If it could be described as a ‘routine’. What Wilson did every morning to prepare for the day seemed to be dictated only by the whims of the flippant god who watched over her every action, waving away the clouds of bad moods whenever they dared near.

Which was to say, Wilson gave Maggie a headache in the morning. She was mostly tolerable in the afternoons, though.

Maggie finished one cup of coffee and poured another, which they would ever so carefully attempt not to spill on the cracked leather seats of the car they so lovingly referred to as ‘Angelia’, their vintage vehicle that still, technically, ran. Their mother saw it a little differently, of course, giving it the charming little nickname of ‘stupid piece of crap’ every time it was vaguely in sight or brought up in conversation.

Maggie didn’t bother with goodbyes as they slung their messenger bag over their shoulder and left to that dreaded meeting like the general of an army on their way to negotiate peace treaties with the general of a force dead-set on invading. They could only hope they were greater in number and in wit.
formerly TheMulticoloredCyr

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Mageheart says...



Daniel Leeds


Daniel’s boss thankfully wasn't that much of a stickler for getting to work on time, but entering the bookshop late with a pair of crutches made the shop’s owner raise her eyebrow in surprise. It hadn’t ever been his intention to reveal the details of his other job to her, but it was hard to hide the truth from such an observant person.

Who also happened to be a witch.

“What happened last night?” Rowan asked. She walked over to the front door and switched the sign from “Closed” to “Open” - Daniel would have tried to protest that if they hadn’t had the exact same conversation the last time he had come in from a tough night at his other, less official job. The Cat’s Library always seemed to have just enough customers to support its two workers; maybe it was because it sold both used or new books.

Or maybe it was because Rowan definitely had done some spellwork on the place after it opened. She could call it marketing for as long as she wanted to, but Daniel could practically feel the magic whenever he walked into the place.

Rowan, though, apparently wasn’t done with her lecture yet.

“You shouldn’t be stumbling around with a twisted ankle.”

Daniel let out a sigh.

“Another cryptid hunter happened,” he said. He threw himself down in the chair behind the register’s counter. It was a little too close to the front door for comfort, but he didn’t feel like hobbling his way into the back room just yet.

He would, eventually. If he didn’t do it on his own, Rowan would force him to get in there.

“And you didn’t think of changing before you went home?” she asked.

He leaned his crutches up against the counter. “I didn’t have the luxury of it - with my luck, that guy would have seen me again. I couldn’t risk it. Besides, it’s good to get injured from time to time. It makes me seem more human.”

Rowan sighed and crossed her arms. “You could also move into a place that doesn’t have human tenants,” she pointed. “You could go to one of Bell’s places - Abe’s Lodge has pretty low rates, and you can access it from anywhere in the US right now if you just put in a request.”

He shook his head.

“I’m not staying in a hotel,” he argued. “And I need to meet more people, anyways. Cryptid hunters aren’t exactly the most normal people out there.”

He knew he hadn’t won her over, but Rowan stopped giving him a judgemental look. Instead, she turned her attention to the new books that had just come in. The majority of them had sleek, shiny covers, but there were a few older books tucked in between the stack. She started to put some of the newer ones on display in the currently covered front window. Rowan would occasionally pop in one of the older books between them, but the ratio of new to old remained fairly consistent.

After another moment of silence, Rowan glanced back at him.

“You’re a stubborn old man,” she commented.

He leaned back in the chair and shrugged.

Raising a finger up, he pointed it in her direction and wagged it a little bit. He didn’t actually know what elderly people were supposed to be like - it wasn’t like they ran around hunting cryptids - but he liked to think he was doing a pretty decent impression. “You should be respecting your elders, young lady. Not bullying them when they’ve been cursed with a twisted ankle and a pair of crutches.”

She turned to him and raised her eyebrow - crossing her arms for good measure.

“Who’s the one giving you your paycheck again?” she asked, tilting her head ever so slightly to the side.

The finger faltered.

“...That’s a good point,” he admitted. He got out of the chair, stumbling a little as he tried to get to his feet without putting pressure on his twisted ankle. “How long do you think I’ll have to keep this up?”

She glanced down as he came out from behind the desk. “Your ankle?”

He nodded.

“A few weeks, at least,” she guessed. Sensing his alarm, she added, “It’s not like they heal overnight.”

His body slumped.

“Human bodies heal so slowly,” he whined. He studied his ankle for a moment. It didn’t look that bad. Maybe, just maybe, he could play it off as being not as bad as it actually was? All he would have to do is take a few minutes break in the back room.

Rowan, as per usual, seemed to know exactly what he was thinking. Tucking a strand of black hair behind her ears, she pointed at the back room door. “It’s unlocked.”

“Thanks,” he said. He slowly made his way over to it, trying his best not to trip like he had on his way to the bookstore. When he was finally inside the room and the door was locked, Daniel let out a sigh of relief - and dropped the concoction of spells he was using to hide his appearance. Within a few minutes, his ankle was just the way it was supposed to be.

He popped back out, the crutches forgotten in the backroom.

“There!” he announced, good as new.

“Just in time,” Rowan said, shoving a stack of books into his arms. “I need you to reach the top shelf - you being freakishly tall certainly is useful around here.”

Daniel grinned.

“Also, your fangs are still showing.”

Daniel swore.

“I knew I was forgetting something,” he said. One quickly muttered spell later, and Daniel Leeds was finally back in business.

Now, if only he could find the cat this place was named after. Daniel had the sneaking suspicion that the moment he tried to shelve one of the books, Pumpkin would show up out of nowhere at the top of the bookshelf and demand pets that Daniel couldn’t give because his hands were still full of books.

The moment he shelved the first of the books, his guess was proved right. Pumpkin appeared just a few feet away, perking up when she realized that one of her favorite people had finally arrived. She was just the motivation he needed to get to work. When he was finally done shelving the books, he leaned down and gave her a few pets.

Her purr was so loud it almost drowned out the bell that rang as someone entered the shop.

“Sorry, Pumpkin,” he said, getting to his feet again. “It looks like it’s time for me to do my job.”

If cats could look disappointed, Pumpkin certainly did then.

Daniel let out a sigh.

It looked like today was going to be a very long day.
mage

[ she/her, but in a boy kinda way ]

roleplaying is my platonic love language.

queer and here.





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soundofmind says...



Wilson Smith
written with @themulticoloredcyr


Wilson's gamer chair had finally come in the mail and she assembled it with childlike eagerness in front of her computer shrine. Now she was a real gamer, with plush seating that supported your back and swallowed you in comfort all at the same time. And you could lean back or lean forward however much you needed! Well, maybe not however much you needed. Wilson discovered that there was a limit, as there was with most things.

Once everything was set up and ready to go Wilson was eager to start streaming, and she grabbed ye olde gamecube Mario Kart for some nostalgia grabbing. She cycled through a few different characters and cars before landing on Baby Bowser and Koopa Troopa. She liked the little guys. They were cute, and Baby Bowser still came with the giant shell that crushed people in your path, which was nice.

A few games in, Wilson caught Maggie walking down the hall and invited them in. Should Wilson have closed her door while gaming? Maybe. But no one was complaining about it today, and she liked having a little window to the outside world. It was so easy to get swallowed up in a game and forget anything else ever existed besides Waluigi in 7th place who kept sending blue shells at you. Why was it always Waluigi?

Anyways, Maggie was nice and came in and sat beside her, pulling up a beanbag from Wilson's pile and bringing snacks. Maggie was smart to bring snacks, and very nice to share. Wilson eagerly accepted the pringles chips handed her way and laughed when they crunched into the mic and people watching the stream started making ASMR jokes.

"Yes. Hello. Welcome to my ASMR channel," she whispered. "I go from zero to 100 really quick so just be ready for quiet chewing and incoherent screamin- OH MY GOSH WALUIGI PUNCHED ME AGAIN!"

That got a lot of laughs in the chat. I mean, that was always her assumption. It wasn't like she could actually hear any of the viewers, but it seemed like they were having fun, which was all that mattered.

Wilson actually wasn't doing too terribly on the hardest level, but then came Rainbow Road. At the end of the tournament, right there just to spite her.

"NnnnnOOoOoooooOooo," she groaned as she tapped the A button to rev up her engine during the countdown.

Things started off okay. She was able to muscle her way to 4th place in the first lap, which felt like a miracle with the sheer amount of chaos going on.

"How did everyone get so many shells?" Wilson groaned. "How many turtles were murdered to make this race happen?"

Maggie snorted. "Someone in chat made a PETA joke."

"Oh of course they did!" Wilson laughed.

Maggie was making sure to stay out of the view of the camera, even though the camera was mostly zoomed in on Wilson's face. Occasionally, Maggie's hair would end up in the frame, but that was about it.

Finally, Wilson made it to the last lap. She was in 3rd place, and her heart was racing. Bowser was ahead of her, and his massive car kept bouncing hers around. She had to be careful if she wanted to pass him. And then - there it was. Her perfect opportunity, granted by the gods: a blue shell, headed for the person in first place. With how close Bowser was to the first placer, it would hit both of them. Wilson drifted to the edge of the track just in case, watching as the blue explosion hit, taking out both of them in one single blow.

She passed them.

"YESSSSSSSSS!" she screamed into the mic.

The victory, however, was short lived.

Just as she sped up to the finish line, someone else came in with a blue shell. No. NO!

"BLUE TURTLES ARE GOING EXTINCT! PLEASE HAVE MERCY!"

There was no mercy. The blue shell hit just before she got to the finish line, and at that point, Bowser caught up to her and passed her with easy while she stumbled forward. She had almost regained control of her vehicle when she got hit by a red shell, and the person in 4th ran over her, stealing her spot in 3rd. Two more cars knocked her around and she stumbled across the finish line with them, finally landing in 6th.

A tragedy.

"Chat is going wild," Maggie commented, looking at all the messages flying across the screen.

Wilson laughed bitterly.

"Oh geez. You know what, I think I need a break after that one. Thank you to everyone who tuned in, I'll catch ya later!" And then she did her signature wink into the camera complete with finger guns. It was cheesy but she had to stick with it, now. It was her brand!

She cut the cameras and ended the stream, swirling around in her seat to face Maggie with a smile. She slid her headphones down around her neck and leaned back into her gamer chair, feeling like a real gamer.

"So," she said. "Ya hungry?"

"You just ate all of my pringles."

Wilson blinked. "Yes." A pause.

"Pizza?" she asked.

Maggie shrugged, "Sure."

xXx


The pizza came with a knock on the door, and Wilson practically tripped over own feet running, with Maggie close behind.

"Pizza! Pizza! Pizza!" she chanted, all the way to the door.

When she opened it up the delivery gal looked a mix between amused and mildly overwhelmed.

"Having a party tonight?" delivery gal asked.

"And night with pizza is a party," Wilson responded, reaching out for the stack of pizza boxes with greedy hands. She could see Maggie handing the gal some cash, and the woman with the pizza-shirt nodded graciously before dipping her head and turning to leave.

"The receipt's in the bag!" she said before leaving.

Wilson bounced on her feet, hurrying back to the living room while the very-hot pizza boxes were warming up her arms.

"Can I put them on your fancy table?" she asked Maggie.

Maggie nodded, clearing off the book she'd been reading earlier.

Wilson happily set the boxes down and darted to the kitchen, returning with paper plates, cups, and a pitcher of water all bundled up in her arms that she unceremoniously plopped onto the table.

Marceline came out of the woodwork - perfectly timed - at the smell of pizza [at least, Wilson presumed] and Daniel came in through the front door, just coming home from work. He'd gotten home a little late, but he did stuff like that a lot. Coming home late. Like the time he came home with a limp that they never talked about.

"Did I see a pizza-" Daniel started, before seeing his question answered by the pizza boxes on the table.

"Pizza time!" Wilson cheered. "Everyone dig in!"

And they did.

Everyone had pizza slices and was sitting around the coffee table when Wilson had a brilliant idea. Moments like these - bonding over greasy food, sitting in the living room on the floor and on the couch - they were perfect for movies. At least, that's what she learned from the movies.

Wilson made her feet dance under Maggie's beautiful table for a moment before she suggested it.

"How bout we watch a movie?" she asked, already grabbing for the remote. The TV was hers, and it was one of her main contributions to the living room. It was a smart TV, because she didn't really want a dumb one. At least, that's what all of the TV sales reps told her, and she could hardly disagree with them when pretty much all of the TVs on sale were smart anyway.

The screen turned on with the poke of a button, and all the icons for all the streaming services popped up like little daisies [was she using that saying right?].

"What do you want to watch?" Daniel asked, leaning into the corned of the couch with a pile of pizza on his plate.

Wilson hummed as she poked Amazon prime, and started scrolling aimlessly through titles.

"What about Cats?"

Daniel sounded like he almost choked on his pizza.

"You want to watch that abomination of CGI?" Daniel sputtered.

Wilson turned to look at him, eyes wide and full of childlike innocence. "Is it not about cats?"

There was a small silence as everyone looked at her. Clearly, she'd missed something. Namely, any of the previews. She just knew it was called Cats, and she liked cats well enough.

"I mean, technically it's about cats," Daniel said. "Like, anthro cats."

Wilson's eyes lit up. "Oh! So, furries!"

"Kind of?" Daniel said. "I don't think it's exactly what you're thinking."

"Put it on," Maggie said "See for yourself."

"Oh no," Marceline muttered.

"Oh yes!" was Wilson's eager reply.

That was all the encouragement Wilson needed, really. Now that she'd been told it wasn't what she expected, she had to follow through and satiate her curiosity. She quickly searched for the title and clicked it, not waiting to read the synopsis or anything. She wanted to go in blind.

And boy, was it an experience.

Daniel made a lot of disgusted comments about the CGI, and Maggie shushed him every time with a handful of thrown popcorn for emphasis. But overall, they all found themselves glued to the screen, unable to look away from the very strange, strange story-line unfolding in front of them in HD.

When the credits started rolling, they all sat in silence for a moment.

Daniel was shaking his head, Marceline was diverting her focus to a cold slice of pizza, and Maggie looked relatively unfazed, chewing on popcorn seeds.

Wilson looked around at the others with a smile.

"Wow!" she marveled. "Yeah, that was not what I expected! What a wild ride."

She smiled, and stood up, picking up some trash.

"Anyone want ice cream?"
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Mageheart says...



Daniel Leeds

Marceline was gone.

She had been gone for nearly a week now, but Daniel still faltered everytime he walked past her empty bedroom. He knew that a new roommate would come at some point; that was how apartments like this worked. The landlord just hadn’t found any who was interested in the room yet. Part of him hoped that no one ever wanted the room. That Marceline would no longer need to be with her family at some point, and that she would come back.

Marceline had gotten the news right after they had all finished watching Cats and were stuffing their faces with ice cream. Daniel had been about to tell her about this stupid conspiracy theory he just remembered, but then her phone had started ringing. Everything else had happened so quickly that it was just a blur now. He kept replaying that last moment over in his head, trying to figure out how else it could have gone.

Rowan said he couldn’t have done anything to change it. But that didn’t feel right. What was the point of having magic and living for seemingly forever if he couldn’t magically fix everything?

xXx

Daniel was avoiding the apartment.

He wasn’t sure when it first started. It might have been the first day after Marceline said she was moving out; it might have been right after she actually moved out. But Daniel had barely been inside the apartment since then, and he didn’t think he was going to be changing that any time soon. Home was just a place to sleep now. He was barely doing that anymore, either. He couldn't stand the sight of Marceline’s empty room. He couldn’t stand the awkward silence he used to fill when talking to her about the newest theory he had found. And he hated how he had to keep digging through the freezer instead of her handing over her leftovers.

He was in the park, now. Work had ended at least an hour ago, but he had been sitting on this same park bench the entire time. The Skeptic’s Instagram livestream had just ended, so it wasn’t like he could even distract himself with his crush. To make matters worse, he had finally finished the hot dog he had been nursing since he left work.

He leaned back against the wood of the bench and stared up at the frustratingly blue sky above. Marceline going was the reminder that he had needed - a painful one, but a necessary one. The bookstore was fun. Living in the apartment had been fun for a time, too. And he did still like interacting with Maggie and Wilson. But Wilson was going to die someday. Maggie was going to die. Even Rowan was going to die someday; being a witch didn’t suddenly grant her immortality. They all had limited time left here on Earth, and that meant that their life was going to change faster than he could blink. Someday, he was sure he’d be the only one left in Apartment 309E - with The Witch’s Hat having long ago shut its doors.

He had to focus on his real job.

He had to find himself some cryptids.

Throwing the napkin that had been wrapped around the hot dog away, Daniel got to his feet and gave a little stretch. He couldn’t see it himself, but the sunlight hit his eyes in just the right way - little orbs of silver looked eerily white. He gave a little smile that barely reached his eyes as he shoved his phone into his pocket.

It didn’t take long for him to return to the apartment. Maggie’s door was shut when he walked in; they must have been working in there. Wilson, on the other hand, had just emerged from hers.

“Hey!” Wilson greeted him, with a wave and a familiar grin.

Daniel just gave a little nod as he went to his room. He closed the door behind him. Even though this room was still very much his room, he felt like he was back in all of the hotels he had spent what felt like an eternity living in. He dug out a bag of chips from one of his desk drawers, booted up his computer, and started to scroll through the Reddit forums he had been neglecting for far too long.

He gave his signature, now currently fanged smirk, the magic covering that part of his appearance momentarily fading.

He was going to find a cryptid.

He had to.
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soundofmind says...



Wilson Smith


Wilson understood the pain of saying goodbye to a degree, but she felt like, in the grand scheme of things, there never really were goodbyes. At least, not for her. Also, Marceline was just a call or text away. She had Marceline’s phone number. 

That said, she was more likely to text than call. That's what all the young people were doing these days. Texting. Instant messaging. Sliding into DMs. Not that she was going to do THAT with Marceline!!! Haha!

Wilson pushed away from her gamer desk and spun in her gamer chair, looking around her room. She'd tidied up yesterday and cleaned her room, but she still had a pile of laundry sitting in the corner. She didn't quite feel like doing laundry, but she knew she felt like... something.

Active clothes. She needed active clothes. 

Shorts, sports bra, and one of those muscle tanks even though she didn't have any muscles to show.

In an instant, she was out the door and raiding the hall closet, taking out all of the cleaning supplies. Multi-purpose cleaning spray, all the special surface cleaners, and rags and everything in a bucket that made transportation easy. And once everything was gathered, all she had to do was clean. And clean, she did. Everywhere but her room, and well, everyone else's rooms. Cleaning their rooms without permission would just be rude, of course.

She started up high and worked down low. She dusted the ceiling fan in the living room [after climbing up on a chair to reach it] and then dusted every possible surface and knick knack - including leftover pizza reciepts - until everything was spotless. Then she vacuumed, and she swept, and she mopped. The hall was clean, the living room was clean, every nook and imaginable cranny in the apartment was clean, except for the oven.

The dreaded oven.

It was important to note that all of this cleaning and scrubbing and sweeping and mopping happened over the course of a few hours - hours that Daniel was gone, because he was out at work - and hours that she... well she didn't see Maggie around. 

It was also important to note that the entire time she was cleaning, she had Eye of the Tiger playing on repeat in her headphones. 

When she finally got to oven, she paused, turned the oven light on, and gazed upon its greasy, crusty, stained glory. Soon, it would no longer be so. She would reverse the oven to its former, original state when it was new and shiny and young and free. As the song started pounding the chorus of "eye of the tiger" in her head for the millionth time, she pounded her sponge to her chest in an act of self-inspiration and finally bent over to address the behemoth, and enter the belly of the beast.

Degreaser was a miracle.

She had taken the racks out and had her head in the open oven, scrubbing and scrubbing and scrubbing until her arms and back started to ache. She kind of liked it though. Getting sore from hard work felt rewarding sometimes, especially when things were clean and nice and shiny.

When she finally finished scrubbing the remains of the oven walls she emerged from its mouth and caught movement from the corner of her eye. Two familiar feet passed her and paused in the entrance of the kitchen. Wilson looked up to see Maggie with a bag of salt and pepper popcorn.

Wilson shot them a smile, but then it faltered.

"Oh! Did you need the oven?"

Maggie shook their head. "No, I'm good."

There was a pause as Wilson continued to look at them expectantly.

"You know we have a chore list, right?"

Wilson shook her head emphatically.

"Are you okay?"

"Oh yes I'm fantastic! Twitch is down today so I decided to clean since I cant stream. Clean stream. Clean stream."

Apparently repeating her newly coined catchphrase was cause for worry, because Maggie looked a little concerned.

"Yes... of course. Well, have fun," they said, as they started to turn away from the kitchen towards the hall. 

"I will!" Wilson called out. "Thank you!"

Maggie gave her a nod and a thumbs up before leaving. Wilson took that as her cue to pick up all her cleaning supplies and put the oven trays back in because, well, everything was clean now. There was nothing left in the shared spaces left to clean. What was she supposed to do now? It had only been two hours.

She sighed, and tugged at her ponytail. 

Well, she had worked up a sweat with all the cleaning. A shower wouldn't hurt. Maybe by the time that was done, twitch would be back up again.

xXx


Okay, so Wilson had showered and gotten clean, and twitch did get back up - and she realized it had only been down for the 20 mins she had checked it that morning, but that was fine, clean stream wasn't wasted - but now she was sweaty again. But it was for good reasons! She figured she was already on a good clean stream streak and she wanted to keep it going, so she was doing laundry. Might as well make the last of everything clean! Well, everything that was hers or a shared thing between the roomies! Nothing wrong with cleanliness! Besides, the evil stepmom on the Cinderella remake Ever After said "cleanliness is close to godliness," and it wasn't like Wilson believed she need to be any more like a god, but it was sure a catchy saying!

She held her laundry basket like a child on the hip of a wearied mother in the summer months and hurried out her door to run to the basement, where all of the laundry machines were held. 

Only problem was that was she came out a little to fast with a little too much gusto and she almost collided with a door, and Daniel, coming out of his room. Wilson jumped back with lightning reflexes but still stumbled back for show, because this all suddenly felt very sitcom-ish, and she wanted to play it right.

She didn't want to overdo it though, so she kept from falling and letting and laundry spill out. That would just be extra!

Daniel, though, just apologized in a groggy half-asleep voice. She couldn't actually understand him, but she assumed it was an apology.

"Hey bro, you're good, you're good," she whispered back to him. Because well, it was --

"...Why are you doing laundry at 2am?"

Ah. Yes. The middle of the night. Daniel looked like he was going to say something like "never mind, I don't know why I asked," or at least, that was her assumption, from how he looked at her with a tired kind of understanding. But she answered anyway.

"I am awake and clothes need to bake."

He stared at her.

She stared at him.

"That makes no sense," he said.

"What are you doing at 2am?" she asked back to him.

"Well, I was going to go to the bathroom..."

Wilson's eyes shot open. "OH! Oh, yes please go, go, go!" 

She was out of his way in a moment and waving her basket to the side so he could pass her to the bathroom. Bowel movements were of the utmost priority.

Once he closed the bathroom door behind him, Wilson continued her sprint, learning nothing from her almost-collision, and made her way to the laundry machines, wasted a few quarters for clean laundry, and sprinted back up. She figured if she was already sweaty, why not just get more sweaty? She would have to shower again, anyway, right?

As she came skidding back into the hall, she happened to catch Daniel on his way out. Her timing was impeccable.

"The laundry is in the oven," she declared to Daniel.

"That's good," he said, a little less half-asleep than before.

"If I showered right now, would you riot?" she asked.

Daniel snorted. "It's not that loud. I think you'll be okay."

Wilson met his eyes and stared at him very intensely. 

"Will I?"

He stared back again.

"Sometimes showering is dangerous, but I think you are an experienced showererer." 

She was grateful for his vote of confidence.

"Than you for having faith in me," she said with a bow of her head.

She didn't wait for his undoubtedly witty and tired comeback before she rushed off to the bathroom he just left to shower for the second time in the current 24-hour cycle. Her shower lasted a full minute of thorough cleansing before she hurried back to her room, wrapped herself in a blanket like a burrito, and curled up in her gamer chair, letting the spinning lull her into an almost-nap.
Last edited by soundofmind on Fri Jan 08, 2021 9:01 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Teddybear says...



Maggie


Marceline was gone.

Maggie woke up in the early morning. The telltale vibrations of Wilson's gaming chair rolling on the floor a room over betrayed her wakefulness. Dread pooled in Maggie's gut, but they couldn't find its source. Wilson was a comforting presence. The living embodiment of wakefulness, endlessly expressive of her every positive emotion.

But Maggie didn't want her around.

Daniel was working, most likely. Or wherever he went during the day.

Maggie's limbs were sore as they slid out from under their covers and padded to the wall. They closed their eyes.

They had hardly even spoken to Marcelene when she was around. They'd ignored her, really. She'd always been too talkative, too touchy-feely, and way too prone to giving gifts to anyone who'd bother to receive them.

So no, Maggie wasn't upset that Marcelene was gone. Though the mood in the apartment had gone down significantly since her departure. That was what bothered her. The stifling grief her remaining roommates refused to express with any amount of openness was...dramatic. They could always just call her.

Hurrying through their routine, Maggie prepared to head out. Their studio was waiting, and they had a few unfinished commissions to work on. They hadn't promised to deliver them until next month, so they had plenty of time, but at least getting a bit of planning done and getting a few balls rolling couldn't hurt. There was a particular mural they were itching to get started on. It had been a while since they'd had a piece that big to work on and the scale of it was more exciting than the repetitive sculptures and paintings people always went on commissioning. Besides, their studio wasn't tainted by the overreactions of a couple of intense drama queens.

As they left their room, they glanced in Wilson's cracked-open door to see her in the middle of a stream. Had she slept? Had breakfast? If they had, Maggie doubted it was anything more than snack food.

A thought...

Maggie rolled their eyes and turned around.

A few minutes later, they returned to Wilson's room with an omelet, some raspberries, and a juice pouch. No one knew exactly who had bought the juice pouches, but Maggie always guessed it was Marcelene.

Either way, taking care to keep at least their face out of frame of the camera, Maggie silently slid the breakfast onto a clear spot of the desk, laying the fork down with a pointed look. The likelihood that Wilson had eaten anything mildly healthy in the last twenty-four hours was, generously put, low. Maggie didn't take Wilson as the type to remember to eat healthy when she was upset.

Wilson's eyes widened when she saw the plate in the corner of her eye and she smiled cheerfully. "Oh, Maggie! Oh my gosh thank you so much! That looks delicious! My wonderful roommate made me breakfast, guys. Gamer fuel." She muted the mic for a moment. "Seriously, thank you." And then the mic was back on, and Wilson started making car noises, like the revving of an engine.

Maggie gave Wilson a nod and headed out of the room.

The commission had only just begun its development, and Maggie hadn't even seen the location yet. They'd exchanged a few sketches and ideas with the owner of the bookshop, but nothing solid had yet been fully developed.

Maggie grabbed their bag off its hook and exited into the hall, pulling out their phone. They typed in the owner's number and brought it to their ear as they started their walk in the direction of the bookshop.

After a few rings, they picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hello, this is Mirriocity, do you mind if I stop by the shop today? I'd like to see the space in person."

"Oh, yeah," there was a sound like the shuffling of papers and something dropping with a hollow thud on the other line, "Sure, yeah, come on over."

"I'll be there in an hour or so."

With that, Maggie hung up and shoved the phone back in their pocket. The bookshop wasn't too far. They'd be able to walk there within the hour, maybe with time to pick up some coffee on the way.
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Mageheart says...



Daniel Leeds


The bookstore was quiet that morning.

A quiet day in the bookstore usually meant a handful of customers, but it was quiet in another sense of the world. Rowan was good at reading Daniel. She had even figured out he had a crush on Benjamin Frost, and he had thought his crush on his favorite Skeptic writer was a tightly kept secret. It shouldn't have been a surprise that she picked up on how distracted he had been the other day.

And it should have been even less of a surprise that she would comment on it.

Rowan sighed and put a stack of books she was carrying down on the counter.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

Daniel looked up from Pumpkin, who was currently claiming the register as her own while she purred up a storm. "Nothing's wrong."

She crossed her arms. "Is it because one of your roommates moved out?"

He faltered. He had complained about how sore he was after moving all of Marceline's stuff, but he had doubted that Rowan actually put two-and-two together. He really needed to stop underestimating her. "...Maybe."

"You can call them," Rowan pointed out. "Texting's also an option."

Daniel rested his head on the counter.

"...It's more than that," he said. Rowan gave him a look, clearly trying to get him to say more, but Daniel refused to give in. She wouldn't get it. Witches were basically humans with magic. Even if they were different than other humans, they were still human at their core. The only connection that Daniel had with Rowan was their occupation and shared magical skills. His were even another kind and level than hers. She could do it, someday, but it would be when she was old and gray. Daniel had time to master the magic he relied on to seem human.

And he would have plenty of time in the future, too.

He had nothing but time, and that was part of the problem.

Pumpkin gave him a kiss on the forehead with a little wet nose.

He raised his head up.

"If you're going to mope around and not tell me why you're so upset," Rowan said, "then we can talk about business instead."

Daniel perked up a little more. Even though what he really needed to be doing was tracking down some cryptids, bookstore business was always just what he needed. From the little smile that danced across Rowan's lips when she saw him sit up straight behind the register, he had a sneaking suspicion that she was very much aware of that.

"What's the business today, then?" he asked. Pumpkin gave his arm a headbutt, still purring but adding a desperate-for-attention meow into the mix. "Moving books? Planning an event? Secretly using magic to boost business-"

"For the last time, it's marketing."

Daniel narrowed his eyes. "I know this place is loaded with magic, Rowan."

"...No comment."

Daniel smirked, triumphant.

"And no to everything else you listed," Rowan said. She looked towards the door, her gaze momentarily dropping down to her phone. He caught a glimpse of a name and a familiar website before she tucked the phone back into her pocket. The name was shown too quickly to see, but he remembered the site - it was how he commissioned art from Mirriocity in the past.

His eyes widened.

"...Did you commission someone?" he asked.

"I did," she confirmed.

"When?" he asked. "For what? Why haven't you told me anything about this?"

"You've been moping for the past week," she argued. She shook her head and sighed again, but he knew she was amused by the whole thing. "I've been trying to tell you, but you're so caught up in whatever happened with your roommate that you haven't paid any attention. I wanted a mural for either outside or inside the store, so I hired someone through the site you were raving about a little while ago. They're on their way to check out the space and figure out what kind of mural would work best."

Daniel couldn't help but grin.

"I love millenials," he said.

"You do realize people commissioned art before the internet, right?"

"Of course," he agreed, giving a nod. "I'm not under a hundred like you are. I've been around since long before the internet. But the internet makes everything easier, and that site has some of the best artists you can possibly get. I'm glad you decided to support the arts. Now, when are they supposed to get here-"

The bell above the door chimed.

Daniel turned. Rowan did, too.

But it couldn't be who Rowan had commissioned. The person who had just entered the shop was none other than Maggie, armed with a cup of what had to be steaming coffee. Daniel could smell the stuff a mile away.

Daniel had always guessed that one of his roommates would stumble onto the shop at some point, but he had never guessed it would be so soon.

...Then again, it did look like Maggie was heading straight towards Rowan. And Maggie was a freelance artist, so getting commissioned to do something in the bookstore wasn't all that impossible.

Maggie must have not noticed Daniel yet. The stack of books that Rowan had dropped on the counter earlier was pretty high. The combination of them and the screen they used for the register conveniently hid his face.

It wasn't that Daniel was ashamed of his bookstore job. It was just that it had never come up before. He wasn't sure what his roommates thought he did for a living; he was sure that they thought it was something dangerous, given the vibe he knew he gave off. Daniel had always had the feeling of being something wild and dangerous - something that really shouldn't be contained in an apartment and a city. A bookstore didn't really make a lot of sense for him.

Pumpkin was purring so loud that Daniel couldn't hear the start of the discussion, but he was sure it was just introductions. He already knew Rowan and Maggie; he wasn't really missing much. But he didn't want to miss anymore of this conversation, so he popped out from behind the register and joined Rowan. He easily towered over both her and Maggie. For a moment, he wasn't sure if Maggie actually registered that he was there. It was always hard reading her face. Emotions were something that Daniel prided himself on getting the hang of after being isolated when he first popped into the world, but Maggie was never the most expressive when it came to how they were feeling.

Maybe they expected him to work at a job like this. Maybe they didn't. Daniel didn't know, and it was eating him up not knowing if he had surprised them or not. He didn't want to startle his roommates. That was something he saved for other cryptid hunters. But the dramatic flair he had while hunting wasn't really something he just did for show; he was an honestly dramatic person. He thrived on seeing how people reacted to every little odd thing about him.

He liked being an enigma.

"Hi Maggie," he said, giving a friendly smirk.

Rowan stared at him. "You know each other?"

"We're roommates," Daniel clarified.

Rowan glanced between the two of them. He could see the gears turning in her head. This was one of the roommates that Daniel had been hiding his true nature from. He knew Rowan wouldn't have ever slipped, but he was sure she saw the added need to make Daniel come off as a nice, normal human worker.

Maggie gave a little nod.

Then they turned back to Rowan. "Where were you thinking the mural would go?"

Daniel took that as his cue to get busy doing something else. It felt weird interacting with Maggie outside of the apartment, and he was surprised to realize that he felt like he needed to be doing something a little more...normal to be at ease. He grabbed the book stack that Rowan had left on the counter, gave Pumpkin one last little pet, and then marched off to the shelves in the back of the store with a casual wave - the other hand holding the pile of books.
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soundofmind says...



Wilson Smith


Wilson woke up with the most devilish thought planted like a seed in the back of her brain. She had just watched a youtube video about gardening, and she now decided that, on top of being a gamer, she was going to be a dedicated plant mom. And that required going outside.

Wilson put on her cutest outfit she could think of at the moment, and that included a pair of mom jeans so that just went to show what was currently influencing her fashion sense. The influencers, obviously. She paired it with a frilly pink crop top and put her hair in a sleek ponytail. Looking like this, she felt like she could take care of all of the plants, and potentially, however unrealistically, take over the world. She finished off the outfit with a pair of while clunky sneakers and a small silver chain necklace and hurried out of the apartment.

When she stopped right outside the door, she realized she forgot her wallet though, so that resulted in her walking back into the house in shame (even though there was no one around at 10 am to see) to grab it. She put it in a little purse with her keys and her phone, and skipped back out the door, locking it behind her.

She danced down the steps, skipping every other one, and made it outside, in the crisp mid-morning air. She took in a deep breath and put her hands on her hips.

"A fresh day for fresh plants," she announced to nobody and then marched down the road to find where she parked her car in the mess of street parking.

It wasn't hard to find, though, considering it was a bright red VW punch buggy that she affectionately called a slug bug for unknown reasons - though it was probably related to watching the movie Herbie in The Love Bug recently.

In any event, her car was named Lacey because she got her lacy shirt caught in the seatbelt when she first got it and that was her source of inspiration.

Wilson hopped into Lacey and weaved out of the parallel parking into the light traffic. The plant nursery wasn't too hard to find, and Wilson walked in like she owned the place. Bright-eyed and with no idea what she was doing.

She found a worker there and waved them over.

"Yes, hello," she said, looking at their nametag. "Alice. I would love to get some succulents but it'll be my first time owning a plant. What do you suggest?"

Alice smiled and nodded. "Well, succulents are a good choice. A lot of them are pretty easy to take care of. I can show you some over here if you'd like--"

"I would love that," Wilson said emphatically.

Alice laughed a little and led the way.

Wilson learned about succulent health, and how to water them from the bottom-up, and to make sure you had well-draining pots - all things she probably could've googled, but Alice was so good at explaining and Wilson wanted to listen, so she kept asking questions, and Alice seemed happy to help. It seemed like Alice liked plants.

And by the end of it, Wilson had three little babies.

Succulent babies, of course.

One was spiky, with little white stripes on the leaves. One was shaped almost like a flower, and one had leaves shaped like little pearls.

When she checked out she made sure they were secure in their box and gingerly set them in the passenger seat of Lacey before driving home. And she drove the safest she'd ever driven before! That was an accomplishment. No quick turns. Only gentle, for the babies.

When she got home, the first thing she did was put the plants in the living room on the window sill where they would get sunshine and happiness. Alice said they were just watered that day, so they wouldn't need water for another few days, but Wilson felt the urge to fuss over them.

But plants were not needy in the same way pets were. They would be okay with some space. Like cats! Yes, like cats.

She decided to name them Will, Dan, and Mag - which seemed a little on the nose, but they didn't need to know that her plants were named after all of them. She could tell them fake names all the same, and no one would be the wiser.

After staring at her plants for an inordinately long time as they basked in the sun she finally remembered she should probably eat, and then stream, so she slipped off to the kitchen to do just that.
Pants are an illusion. And so is death.









You cannot have an opponent if you keep saying yes.
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