It’s once again time for the Big Bang run by @ts-storytime! This set is for the wonderful story by @cause-a-gay-has-got-to-slay. Their story can be found here(link pending).
Now, on to the art, starting with the designs of our SCP main 6:
And finish it off with a peek at the inside of the SCP foundation:
This year I participated in the Sanders Sides Big Bang run by @ts-storytime as the artist for @the-panmixxia!
Their adorable story full of family fluff can be found here and go below the cut to see my art!
One word on organization: I hit the image limit in this post, so all the designs will be here, and I will reblog this soon with illustrations of moments from the story.
Now, on to the art! Starting with everyone’s favorite snake dad:
Now that we’ve seen out main line up, it’s time to see what mischief they get up to.
Starting with a landscape and design for the wooly geese present in the first chapter:
Now that I’ve gotten my landscaping urge out of my system, let’s see a little Remus, all calm with the wonders of a towel:
Then let’s zoom over to the second chapter with the hatching of Leggy-Eggy, better known as Virgil:
Then unfortunately have to leave him behind to see Roman and Remy at the library. I’m not quite sure if I lived up to the amazing description of “So many rainbows it looks like a hate crime,” but I tried:
Finally, I’ll close off this post with movie night, aka the most effective way to keep a curious teen and two five-year-olds from spoiling Christmas surprises:
This year I participated in the Sanders Sides Big Bang run by @ts-storytime as the artist for @the-panmixxia!
Their adorable story full of family fluff can be found here and go below the cut to see my art!
One word on organization: I hit the image limit in this post, so all the designs will be here, and I will reblog this soon with illustrations of moments from the story.
Now, on to the art! Starting with everyone’s favorite snake dad:
And we can’t forget his brother, frog dad:
Now the eldritch horror that really just needs to sink a coupe toy boats and have a good bedtime story:
And his brother, the spider baby:
Now that all the scary parts are out of the way, we get to the dark, sinister scientist who...adopted his science. Oh well, at least Virgil looks happy:
And it looks like Logan also adopted his lab assistant:
Last, but definitely not least, of our main characters comes the wondrous Prince Roman: Just ruler of the playscape and friends with fairies everywhere!
The first round, Patton vs Remus, was set up quickly. The two fighters took their place in front of the tv, and the spectators sprawled out across the couch behind them.
The match was over before it even began, as Patton was knocked in to the void before he ever managed to get a hit in on Remus.
“Ha! Round 1 done and won. Ready for a match, brother?” Remus asked, turning to Roman with a more-than-slightly-deranged grin.
“But of course,” Roman said, taking Patton’s place. Logan looked slightly upset, as they didn’t follow the plan laid out when they were getting cocoa, but he didn’t get a word in edgewise, as the two brothers quickly started shit-talking each other with Virgil and Janus egging them on. Roman succeeded in launching Remus off the edge, then Remus went flying.
“How’s the weather down there?” Roman cried in victory, as he launched Remus off again, and the match ended.
“Why don’t you come down and see for yourself? Re-match!”
“Absolutely,” Roman replied.
The second round proceeded in much the same way, with Roman squeaking out another victory from his brother.
“Best 3 out of five?” Remus pushed.
“Move aside, the real Smash players are stepping in. Who was I supposed to go against, Logan?” Virgil asked.
“Roman,” Logan replied.
Remus grumbled and stepped aside so Virgil could take his place. The match started, and it was clear who was better, although it was still close. Virgil could evade most of Remus’s attacks, but couldn’t rack up combos to deal serious damage. Still, Virgil safely squared the victory off against Remus.
“Come talk to me when you get serious,” Virgil grinned, as the victory screen popped up.
“Oh, you know what? We forgot to make the popcorn we’re betting with!” Patton jumped up.
“Ah, shit, yeah,” Virgil said.
“I’ll make it,” Patton volunteered.
“Nah, it’s my apartment; I’ll get it,” Virgil said and slipped in to the kitchen before Patton could protest.
The sound of Virgil’s obnoxiously loud microwave that he kept swearing he would replace but never did overlaid the commentary, as Janus and Logan took their first turn.
The match was over quickly, ending in a narrow win for Janus, and they agreed on a rematch, which Logan took the win for. A final round let Janus squeak out of the match-up as the winner.
Virgil came back with a giant bowl of popcorn, “What did I miss?”
“Jan and Lo had to fight 3 rounds to figure out Jan was better,” Remus replied.
“Janus won two rounds, and I won one,” Logan supplied.
Virgil quirked his brows, “Alright, then. Who wants to fight me?”
“I’ll gladly play another round,” Janus said.
“Let’s go, Harvey Dense,” Virgil said taking the controller back from Logan. Their fight was dead even. Virgil won, then in the rematch Janus won, then in the re-rematch they timed out. They geared up for the re-re-rematch, and the room went silent, as the two focused on the game.
“Boom!” Virgil yelled when the match finished and declared him the victor.
“...rematch?” Janus suggested.
“That was our fourth rematch, you’ll just have to accept defeat,” Virgil replied.
“...until the others have had their turns?” Janus pressed.
“Sure, I’ll just beat you again. Who’s going next?”
The night wore on, as they fell in to a rhythm of swapping out players, although Janus made sure he and Virgil got paired up as much as possible, and their scores remained almost exactly even.
They ordered pizza at some point, and awhile later Patton made everyone cocoa. It was almost midnight by the time Janus finally admitted defeat to Virgil, with only a 2-win point difference between them.
“We completely forgot about the bets,” Logan pointed out.
“Eh, we all know I won, and I was the only one who bet on me,” Virgil shrugged.
“That’s true, but we’re out of popcorn,” Roman said.
“How about something even more valuable: First pick of movie?”
“How dare you!” Roman called out in mock offense.
Virgil gave an evil laugh and made a beeline for the remote, quickly putting on The Nightmare Before Christmas, which Roman voiced his approval for with mock resignation.
Patton snuggled in to the nest of blankets he had brought/stolen from the others and was asleep before Jack had even discovered Christmas.
Here’s my gift for @welcome-to-crowleys-hellhole for the @sanderssidesgiftxchange
Woo, this was definitely a fun write! It’s a little outside what I usually write, but I had enjoyed getting to make all the boys happy, and I hope you enjoy it, too.
Title: Hot Cocoa Night
Summary: Patton, Roman, Remus, Janus, Logan, and Virgil get together for hot cocoa and a sleepover.
Warnings: None
Read it on Archive of Our Own
Chapter One
Patton hummed to himself, as he went about making lunch. Remus and Roman would be over soon to pick him up, and if he knew his boys(which he did) they would have forgotten to eat lunch, and that was besides the fact that he himself needed to eat!
Their plan for the day was simple. Patton, Remus, Roman, Janus, Logan, and Virgil were all meeting up to get hot cocoa, then going back to Virgil’s for a sleepover(plus probably more hot cocoa).
Patton flipped the grilled cheeses over, right as the doorbell rang.
“Come in! It’s unlocked!” Patton yelled towards the front door.
Roman and Remus stepped in. Well, more accurately, Roman stepped in, and Remus naruto-ran down the narrow front hall and in to the kitchen.
“Good morning, Remus,” Patton chirped.
“Afternoon, pops,” Remus grinned, tapping the clock above the oven, which read 12:01.
“Oh, so it is! Are you boys hungry?” Patton said, raising his voice slightly to make sure Roman could here.
“Always!” Remus replied, then pointed to the sandwiches on the stove, “Grilled cheese?”
“Mhm! I made one for each of you,” Patton said, transferring the finished sandwiches to a plate.
“Those look simply marvelous, Patton,” Roman said,
“Well, eat up! We don’t want to be late,” Patton said.
Remus responded by stuffing an entire sandwich in to his mouth, and Patton turned away from the sight to eat his own sandwich. Roman shot Remus a disgusted look before grabbing his own sandwich and eating it.
Once he was done eating, Patton stacked the small amount of dishes next to the sink.
“Are you ready for the most wonderful time of the year?” Roman asked, slipping in to song for the last part.
Patton gave a little laugh, “Yup! Let me just grab my bag.”
This didn’t take long, as Patton had already packed that morning and set his bag...where had he set his bag?
Patton looked around his apartment. He checked the table, his living room, and bingo! It was still laying on his bed with half the things he needed to bring laying around it. He quickly shoved the rest of the things in there and closed the bag, running down the stairs.
“Ready!”
The three of them walked out to Roman’s car. Patton squished his bag in next to Roman’s in the trunk before getting in the backseat. Roman immediately turned on his playlist of Disney tunes. The shuffle feature brought them first to Princess and the Frog’s Friends on the Other Side. They sang along, as they drove the short distance to where they were supposed to meet up with Logan, Janus, and Virgil.
And they were only 5 minutes late!
They got out and looked around, immediately spotting the rest of their party waiting next to Virgil’s car.
“Hey, guys!” Patton called.
“Speak of the devils,” Janus said, walking over.
“I hope we didn’t keep you waiting.”
“Not much,” Janus said, “But I’m not freezing and ready for hot cocoa now.”
Janus gave an exaggerated shiver. It wasn’t too cold, seeing as how they lived in Florida, but he always got cold quickly.
“Shall we head in?” Patton asked the group.
Everyone made varied sounds of agreement, as they headed in to the cafe. Logan was nominated to make the order, and the rest of them claimed a table.
“How’s your book going, Virgil?”
“I’ve been to hell and it’s hours of editing the same chapter because you just can’t get it to end on a nice note and not being able to delete it because it’s important to the plot,” Virgil groaned, “See, the main characters start off in this dungeon, and they’re looking around trying to find the exit and they find this clue and the wizard figures out- God dammit, I figured it out, where’s my phone?”
Patton smiled, as Virgil fished out his phone and furiously typed something in to it.
“Thanks for helping with that,” Virgil half-laughed.
“Always happy to help!” Patton replied, as Logan came to the table.
“The orders have been placed,” Logan said, sitting down, “What are you talking about?”
“Me and Janus are trying to get Roman to admit I’m better at Smash Bros than him, and Patton and Virgil are talking about something else,” Remus quickly replied.
“He is not better than me at Smash Bros!” Roman protested.
“Perhaps some scientific research would be of value? Virgil, you do have consoles that support Super Smash Bros at your house, correct?” Logan asked.
“Yeah, I have Smash Bros. And I’m just saying that I will crush you all in a tournament,” Virgil replied.
“Bold words to be said in the presence of someone who has never lost a game of Smash Bros before,” Janus said, putting his hands on the table.
“That legacy ends today, and that’s a threat,” Virgil shot back.
“You’re on,” Janus replied.
“Wait, we need to make this a proper tournament, bets and everything,” Virgil said.
“But what are we betting?” Roman asked.
“Honour, no, fuck, what are we betting?”
“The best sleeping spots?” Remus offered.
“I literally just moved all the furniture in my living room to the walls to make space for all of y’all, there is no “best” sleeping spot,” Virgil countered.
“Popcorn,” Roman sad seriously.
“You know what? Sure, let’s bet popcorn on a Smash Bros tournament. Who’s keeping track?” Virgil asked.
“I can keep track,” Logan offred, already pulling out his phone, “Who is betting on who winning?”
“I’m betting on myself winning,” Virgil said instantly.
“You can’t do that,” Roman pouted.
“Yeah I can.”
“He can,” Logan backed him up.
“Fine, then I will also bet on myself,” Roman said.
“And I’ll bet on myself,” Janus said.
“Alright, Remus?”
“I’m betting on Janus!” Remus replied.
“And forsake our sacred brotherly bond?” Roman gasped.
“It brings me great pain, but yes. You’re horrible at Smash Bros.”
“Can I place a bet against Remus winning?” Roman turned to Logan.
“You can bet on him getting a place other than 1st, yes.”
“Then I bet on him getting 4th,” Roman replied.
“I bet on Roman getting 4th!” Remus shot in.
“Alright, so far Roman has bet on himself winning and Remus getting 4th place, Virgil has bet on himself winning, Janus has bet on himself winning, and Remus has bet on Janus winning and Roman getting 4th place. Patton?” Logan asked.
Patton hummed, as he thought to himself, “I bet on you winning.”
“And Patton has bet on me winning. I will bet on myself winning.”
“So the only people who didn’t bet for themselves were Patton and Janus. Seems about right,” Virgil shrugged.
“Be prepared to lose all your popcorn when I win,” Roman boasted.
“Okay, I want to place another bet. I bet Princey gets third,” Virgil said.
Logan nodded and added it to the list, as Roman scoffed in offense. Then their order was called, and Logan went to grab their drinks. Conversation paused as everyone either burned their tongues or blew on their hot cocoas.
“So, who’s going first in the tournament?” Patton asked.
“Whoever gets to the controllers first?” Janus suggested.
“If we go with that Mario and Luigi will smash my controllers to bits,” Virgil countered.
“I think it would make most sense to go by the number of bets placed on them. That means in the first round Patton and Remus would go against each other with 0 bets, then Virgil and Roman would go against each other with 1 bets, then me and Janus with 2 bets,” Logan suggested.
“Technically Remus and Virgil put a bets on me, too,” Roman pointed out.
“Regardless, I think that’s a sensible order to use for the first round,” Logan said.
“Let it be known that I will play against Remus at some point and I will win,” Roman said.
“You wish!” Remus shot back.
“Well, we will be able to test this after finishing our hot cocoa,” Logan said.
With that the whole table went silent, as they tried to finish their hot cocoa as fast as possible so they could get to Virgil’s and destroy each other in Smash Bros.
“Are you sure you’ll be alright here alone?” Patton asked one more time.
“Yes, I will,” Roman responded again.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Patton said, although it mostly seemed to assure himself, then left.
Roman waited for a moment after Patton left, then looked around the room. He started by making Patton’s bed, as he had seen Patton do himself, then sat back at the desk and started daydreaming, while he waited for Patton to come back.
*****
Roman looked up when he heard the door downstairs opening. It was only noon, far too soon for Patton to come back.
The door to Patton’s room was slammed open. An angry looking young man with a nasty scar across his face held Patton’s hand. Patton was hiding his face in his sleeve and shaking. The angry man scanned the room, saw Roman, shoved Patton in, and dragged Roman out before shutting the door.
Roman pulled himself away from the angry man’s grip. “Who are you, and what have you done with Patton?” he demanded.
The man looked him up and down. “I’m Janus. I didn’t do anything to Patton besides bring him home. He’s crying because of some idiots who couldn’t keep their mouths shut,” he sighed, then added in a mutter, “idiots who got what was coming for them.”
Roman looked down and saw a bit of blood on Janus’s gloved knuckles.
“Now it isn’t time for you to answer my questions. Who are you and how did you get in to Patton’s room?”
“My name is Roman, and Patton let me in,” Roman huffed.
“Roman. I don’t recognize that. You aren’t the automaton he’s been talking about.”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand what you mean.”
“Don’t stay afraid,” Janus huffed.
“How can I do that when you won’t explain yourself?”
Janus looked Roman up and down again, then sighed, “I don’t speak in negatives.”
“You didn’t a moment ago.”
“I do do it when it’s important.”
“Well, what can I do to help Patton?” Roman dropped the subject so that he could focus on his friend.
“I do have a better idea than you do. I do know how to comfort him beyond getting him away from the idiots,” Janus said.
“I’m going to go in there and help him,” Roman decided. Janus made no move to stop, as Roman opened the door.
Patton was curled up on his bed. He had taken off his coat, and now it lay unceremoniously on the floor.
“Hello, dearest friend,” Roman said.
Patton mumbled something in to his pillow.
“I didn’t catch that.”
“Mm, doesn’t matter,” Patton mumbled, barely any louder.
“Well, mattering or not, you’re clearly unhappy now, and I’d like to help,” Roman declared.
Patton halfway rolled over to mumble, “Can I have a hug?”
“Of course,” Roman said, sitting down on the bed and opening his arms. Patton crawled over and buried his face in the thin fabric of Roman’s shirt. Roman gently closed his arms around his friend. Patton clung to Roman as if the world would slip away if he ever let go, so Roman returned the strength in a silent promise that he would never leave.
Roman felt the bed shift, as Janus sat down on the other side of Patton. Patton shifted so that he could hold on to both of his friends at once, squishing Janus and Roman together. Patton stared sniffling, startling Roman, but Janus only held on to Patton tighter, so Roman followed suit.
They sat there for a long time before Patton stopped crying and sat up slowly, wiping his face clean.
“Are you feeling better?” Roman asked softly.
“Mm, yeah. Thanks,” Patton replied.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Janus asked.
“I don’t think it would help. It’s just kids being kids.”
“Kids being idiotic isn’t more accurate,” Janus said.
Patton gave a half-hearted giggle, “Idiotic is an idiotic word.”
Far-away church bells rang once. Roman remembered Logan’s comment about how he, Virgil, and Patton were all likely to work through lunch.
“Have you had lunch today, Patton?” Roman asked.
Janus shot him a dirty look.
“No, the...fight started before I…” Patton trailed off, looking at his hands.
“If you’d like, I can go and get you lunch,” Roman offered.
“Would you?”
“Of course.”
“You won’t need money,” Janus said, then produced a small black purse and held it out to Roman. Roman took it and opened it, then closed it seeing the jumble of currency inside.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t steal any. I’ll know,” Janus said seriously, his eyes boring in to Roman’s soul.
“I would never steal,” Roman said.
“Liar. You haven’t already stolen Patton’s heart.”
Patton laughed and pushed at Janus, who smiled back. Roman wasn’t quite sure what it meant, but he smiled and slipped away.
Roman went to the square Patton had taken him to and went to the store with the sweet buns Patton liked. Roman picked out a bun that looked like the same type Patton had gotten. He paid and barely stopped himself from running back to Patton’s house.
Roman let himself back in to Patton’s room. Janus was sitting at the desk now, and the room was quiet.
“I’m back,” Roman broke the silence.
“Thank you,” Patton said, taking the bun, a smile breaking out on his face when he saw what it was. “You even remembered which one I got.”
“Only the best for you,” Roman replied, handing the purse back to Janus. Janus looked inside it briefly, then tucked it back in to his jacket.
“You’re the best,” Patton said, taking a bite.
“No, you’re the best,” Roman said.
Patton made a noise of dissent, but his mouth was full of the bun.
“Ah, it seems the bun agrees with Roman,” Janus said.
Patton gave a huff of laughter, and all was well again.
*****
Thank you so much for reading! Reblogs are greatly appreciated.
Patton awoke early in the morning, when the sun was starting to lighten the horizon, but the streetlamps were still needed to see clearly.
“Good morning,” Roman said.
“Good morning,” Patton yawned, peering out from under the covers, “Mm, it’s too early to get out of bed.”
Roman laughed softly, “Do you have school today, too?”
“Don’t remind me,” Patton groaned, getting out of bed, “I wish I could get Logan to go to school for me. He actually liked school. Can you believe it?”
“Well, I never went to school, so I can’t say.”
“Lucky,” Patton wrinkled his nose, “Logan would probably love to meet you. I can drop you at his house and have time to get breakfast and go to school.”
“That sounds marvelous,” Roman replied.
Patton quickly got ready for the day, and the pair headed out in to the streets. They went in to the square, and Patton pulled open the door of a shop labeled “The Mcconald’s Mechanical Marvels.”
The inside of the shop was lined with all sorts of small machines. While mostly wind-up toys, Roman spotted more practical machines, too, including the sewing machine a young man was tinkering with behind a desk.
The young man looked up when they walked in and flipped a small set of lenses away from his glasses.
“Good morning,” the young man said, “What brings you here so early, Patton?”
“I was just wondering if you’d like to meet Roman.”
“Am I correct in presuming Roman is the automaton next to you?”
“Mhm!”
“Well, good morning, Roman. Patton, school will start soon.”
“I know, I know. Can he stay with you today?” Patton asked.
“I don’t see why not.”
“Great! I’ll come back afterschool!” Patton said, and walked out of the shop.
“You’ll have to excuse me, I wasn’t expecting any guests. There’s an extra stool back here if you’d like to sit down, but that’s all I can offer you,” Logan said, then turned back to the sewing machine.
“I don’t mind at all,” Roman said, taking a seat behind the desk.
Roman watched, as Logan added a gear on to the machine, then cranked the handle a couple times, staring at the mechanisms. He stopped turning it and replaced the gear he had added with a larger one.
“May I ask what you’re doing?” Roman asked.
“Yes. I am attempting to adjust this sewing machine to do larger stitches.”
Roman was confused. He didn’t know much about sewing, but he knew that smaller stitches were stronger than larger ones. A strange feeling set on him, at Logan’s statement.
“Why would you want larger stitches?” he asked.
“I’m doing it as a proof of concept. I know I can replicate the machine nearly-perfectly, but I’m adjusting it to ensure I understand how it works. I also have more large gears than small ones,” Logan replied, cranking the handle again. He seemed satisfied with what the saw and began adding a new cluster of mechanisms to the machine.
“You seem very smart.”
“Thank you,” Logan replied, tightening a gear, then feeding the machine cloth and thread. He made a short line of stitching and pulled out another scrap of cloth.
“Perfect,” Logan said, holding out the two scraps for Roman to see. The first scrap of cloth had 1 stitch for every 3 stitches the second scrap had.
“I suppose now I can advertise sewing machines as part of my stock,” Logan said, although he didn’t seem happy with the prospect.
“Is that a bad thing?”
“Oh, no, not at all,” Logan said, pulling a cloth from his pocket and cleaning the lenses of his glasses.
“If you don’t mind me asking, who made you?” Logan asked.
“I don’t know.”
Logan hummed, “Do you mind if I ask you questions about your mechanisms? I’ve never met an automaton, and I’m rather curious.”
“I’ve never heard the word curious before,” Roman said.
“Curious: An adjective meaning marked by the desire to investigate and learn,” Logan said, “You seem rather curious, yourself.”
Roman nodded slightly, “Would you be willing to make a trade? I’ll let you look at what’s inside my chest and you’ll teach me more words?”
“I’d like that. What words do you want to know?”
“Well, any ones I can tell you already know!”
“Then let’s start with infinitesimal: an adjective meaning immeasurably or incalculably small.”
“So would atoms be infinitesimal?” Roman asked.
“Yes. I’m surprised you know atomic theory but not the word ‘curious’.”
“Well, I can’t say that I know much more than that they are small,” Roman confessed.
“Hm. Ameliorate: A verb meaning to make better or more tolerable,” Logan moved on to the next word.
“Where did you learn these words?” Roman asked.
“I used to read the dictionary for fun while my classmates finished their work,” Logan replied with a soft smile.
“Patton said you had fun at school.”
“Hardly, but I did like it. It was a puzzle to sort out,” Logan said, fidgeting with a tool.
“Well, would you like to look, now?” Roman asked.
“Yes,” Logan replied quickly.
Roman unbuttoned his coat and shirt, revealing most of his chest area. Logan leaned down, looking at the mechanisms inside.
“This is...quite complex,” he heard Logan say. He stayed looking for a moment longer, then straightened again. “I-Thank you. For letting me look.”
“It was my honor,” Roman replied, re-buttoning his shirt.
“How did you come by Patton?” Logan asked.
“Well, he came by me, truly. I was performing and the director let slip that it was my birthday on Sunday. Patton was so determined that I shouldn’t be alone on my birthday that he broke in to the theatre.”
“That sounds like something Patton would do,” Logan nodded, “I’m supposed to be repairing a broken typewriter. Would you like to see?”
“That would be wondrous!”
Roman spent the rest of the day watching Logan repair the typewriter. Logan talked Roman through the process, the problems the owner reported, what caused it, how to fix it, why it was a more complicated fix than it seemed, here’s what this part does, this is what that part does, all the way until Logan screwed the case back over the top and looked to the time.
“Ah, I seem to have worked through lunch again,” Logan sighed.
“Virgil did that yesterday, too,” Roman pointed out
“Ah, yes. All three of us are prone to forgetting to eat.”
“All three of us?”
“Me, Virgil, and Patton,” Logan clarified, just as the bell to the shop rang. “Hello, Patton.”
“Hey, Logan! Hey, Roman! How are you two?” Patton asked cheerily.
“Marvelous!” Roman replied.
“Very well, and you?” Logan asked.
“Still bored from school,” Patton sighed.
“Well, I forgot to eat lunch, so if you’ll excuse me.”
“You better be taking better care of yourself than that!”
Rain was still falling by the time Patton woke up. Patton made quick work of getting dressed, then turned to Roman.
“Good morning!”
“Good morning, dear friend,” Roman replied.
Patton laughed, “Do you like the rain?”
“Yes, it is quite melodious.”
Patton hummed. “I’ve always liked the sound of falling rain, too. Well, what do you want to do today?”
“I fear I cannot go out today. The rain will rust my gears.”
“That’s okay, you can borrow my coat, and I bet my friend, Virgil, has a spare coat. He’s always making more things than he needs. What if we go to the square I showed you last morning, and I can get a bun, and you can hear the musicians, and then we go to Virgil’s house?” Patton asked.
“That sounds marvelous,” Roman said.
“Great! Here, put this on,” Patton said, handing Roman his gray coat.
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to make you cold,” Roman said, holding it delicately.
“I won’t be cold, silly! I’ll wear my other coat,” Patton said, producing a black coat that seemed a bit newer than the one Roman was holding.
“If you insist,” Roman said, putting on the coat.
Patton beamed at him and put on his own coat before coaxing his hair mostly in to his hat, grabbing an umbrella, and leading the way out on to the street.
True to Patton’s words, a group of musicians were tuning their instruments under the protection of an open-mouthed tent. Roman stood and watched while Patton ran to a shop and returned with a sweet bun in his hands.
“Do you want me to hold the umbrella?” Roman asked, seeing Patton struggle to balance the umbrella against the wind with one hand.
“Yes, thank you!” Patton said. Roman took the umbrella, and Patton quickly began to eat the bun while walking out of the square.
Patton was almost finished by the time they came to a small house. He paused outside to eat the rest of his bun.
“Alright, this is Virgil’s house,” Patton said, pointing with a honey-covered finger, “You better knock instead of me.”
Roman knocked on the door, and a person promptly opened it.
“Hi, Virgil!” Patton chirped.
“Hi yourself. Who’s this?” the person, who seemed to be about the same age as Patton, asked. He had a pin cushion strapped on to his wrist, and his black coat seemed to be almost brand-new.
“Virgil, this is Roman. Roman, this is Virgil,” Patton replied.
“Greetings!” Roman said.
“Hi. Again. Uh, come inside before you get cold,” Virgil said, stepping out of the doorway.
Roman and Patton stepped in to a neat little front room. A dress form held a half-completed dress of some kind, and a sewing machine took center stage.
“Oh, your sewing machine came!” Patton said.
“You say that as if Logan could give up the challenge to match one of these suckers,” Virgil laughed, “And it’s Monday. Shouldn’t you be in school?”
“But school is so boring now that you and Logan are gone,” Patton stuck out his tongue.
“Not that you liked it that much better last year. Have you really not made any more friends?” Virgil asked.
“Um, yeah?”
Virgil shot Patton a suspicious look.
“It’s Janus,” Patton squeaked.
“Oh,” Virgil said coldly, “Well, why did you come here anyways? It can’t just be to skip school.”
“Oh, yeah, Roman needs a jacket,” Patton said.
Virgil turned a keen eye towards Roman, “Yeah, I was wondering why he was wearing yours. I’ll make a deal: I make Roman a coat today, free of charge, and you go to school.”
“Oh, but don’t you have other work to do first?” Patton said.
“Mrs. Laney has never touched a sewing needle except to buy a sewing machine to show off her wealth. She has no idea how long it takes to hand-sew her a dress, and she won’t notice one extra day,” Virgil brushed him off, “Now get to class before the teacher notices you’re not there.”
“Fine. Have a good day, you two!” Patton said, then slipped through the door.
Virgil waited for a moment, then walked over the window and looked around the street. Seemingly satisfied, he turned to Roman.
“So, Roman, right? Take that coat off, set it here, and I’ll take your measurements,” Virgil snapped in to business mode. Roman did as he instructed, then held still as Virgil took his measurements. Virgil began messing with the machine, then started feeding it bits of fabric. They chatted a bit, as Virgil put together the coat, cursed at the machine, had Roman put on the coat, and made adjustments.
“There, try that on,” Virgil said, sticking the needle back in to his pin cushion. Roman picked up the coat and put it on. It fit like a glove. It was made of a light wool dyed a muted red, which Roman decided right then was his favorite color.
Virgil walked around Roman, then nodded, “Looks good, does it feel good?”
“It feels marvelous!” Roman replied. A feeling welled up in him, close to happiness, but warmer and heavier.
“Great. What time is it?” Virgil mumbled, pulling a pocket watch in the shape of a storm cloud. “Jesus, I missed lunch. Do you...I gues you probably don’t eat?”
“Oh, no, no stomach in here,” Roman laughed, tapping lightly on his stomach through the coat.
“Well, um, I’ll be right back?” Virgil said, then disappeared through a door deeper in to the house. Roman sat back down and looked out the window. It had stopped raining sometime earlier, but the pavement was still littered with puddles. Just as he was thinking about this, Virgil returned.
“I’m back,” Virgil announced, holding a sandwich. He ate quickly, then started working on the dress on the dress form. Roman and Virgil talked chatting a little, as he worked.
A bell chimed somewhere in the city, right as a knock came on the door.
“And that would be Patton,” Virgil said, “Can you get it?”
“Of course,” Roman said, standing up.
“Thanks.”
Roman let Patton in to the house.
“Oo, look at you!” Patton said, “Thanks, Virgil!”
“No problem,” Virgil said.
“I know you said free of charge, but do you want me to at least pay for the materials?” Patton asked.
“Nah, you payed me in knowing my friend’s getting an education. Now shoo, talking takes too much energy.”
Patton laughed, “I love you, Virgil.”
“Bold words to say to someone holding a 2-inch-long needle,” Virgil called after them.
Patton laughed, as they walked out of the house.
“Patton?” Roman asked once they were a little ways off.
“Mhm?”
“I was thinking, I felt something close to happiness when Virgil gave me this coat. Is there a word for that feeling?”
“Like gratitude?”
“Gratitude. Yes, that feels right,” Roman said, grateful for his new friends.
Here’s my gift for @mariniacipher for the @sanderssidesgiftxchange!
So, fun fact, I picked up your gift, saw the second prompt, and wrote the entire first chapter in one sitting. I haven’t written that much in one day, much less one sitting, in months. All that’s to say is that I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.
Title: What Makes the Heart Tick
Summary: Roman, an entertainment automaton, is pulled out of his old life when a young man named Patton takes it upon himself to keep him company on his birthday.
Warnings: None
Pairings: None
Read it on Archive of Our Own
Chapter One: Happy
Roman took his final bows at the end of the performance. The small audience clapped, stirring something that didn’t quite sit right in his steel body, and the curtains closed. Roman straightened with a gentle whir of gears and walked off stage. He heard the director step on the the apron and start talking to the audience.
Roman stopped between the legs. Soon the after-show tour for the handful of people who paid to see backstage would begin. It was always nice to see fans.
Roman heard the director herd the crowd out the door, then start explaining the rules of the tour. Roman took his cue to walk back near center stage among his scenery. He paused to adjust the simple-but-beautiful costume that hid his inner workings and waited, as 5 starry-eyed fans followed the director behind the curtain.
“And here you see Roman. He’s an automaton, the finest one on this side of the Atlantic,” the director said.
“How old is he?” a boy, or maybe a man, wearing a light gray coat that seemed like it had originally belonged to a father or older brother and tailored to a more-current fashion asked.
“Roman’s been in motion for 4 years, as of tomorrow,” the director said.
“Do you have any other automatons?” the same person asked.
“No, he’s the only one,” the director said.
“Does he get lonely?”
The director gave a little laugh, “My, you ask a lot of questions, hm? Let’s move along.”
The tour moved on, leaving Roman in the dim glow of the gas lights, as they moved on.
*****
The next day was a Sunday. The director went to church and left Roman in the dark. Roman turned his head, as the door opened. He couldn’t quite see who it was, but it certainly wasn’t the director.
“Good dawning to you, friend, or shall I say fiend?” Roman called, brandishing a sword at the intruder.
The intruder squeaked, and Roman saw the same light gray coat and cap that he had yesterday.
“You came here yesterday,” Roman said, letting the dull blade fall by his side, “Ah! This place is in no state for a customer to see! I’m not even in costume!”
“Well, is it in a state for a friend to see?” the person asked.
“I must confess, I do not know what you mean,” Roman said, quickly grabbing his costume and putting the first layer on.
“Well, I was just thinking that it’s your birthday, and no one should be alone on their birthday. Oh, but I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Patton.”
“My name is Roman,” he replied, straightening his bow tie and finally turning around to see his visitor, “But don’t humans go to church on Sundays?”
“I don’t,” Patton said, “But I do like to go to friends.”
Roman’s gears whirred, as he took in what Patton meant, “Well, then, what would you do with your friend?”
“Well, because it’s your birthday, you get to decide!” Patton said.
“Well, then, I suppose we shall have to go on an adventure for your birthday.”
“No, silly, it’s your birthday! The director said you’re turning 4,” Patton giggled.
“Oh, then, I suppose it is. You’ll have to show me how to celebrate, for I’ve never had a birthday before.”
“You’ve never celebrated your birthday?”
“No.”
“Well, that won’t do! Hm, I’d say we should go out for lunch, but everything is closed and you can’t eat anyways. What if we go, and you can show me all the spots that make you happy?” Patton asked.
“Happy? I’ve never heard that word before. And I’ve lived my whole life with the director in this stage, so I don’t think I can show you anywhere the director hasn’t brought you,” Roman said.
“You don’t know what happy is, and you’ve never left this stage? Oh, no, I’ll have to show you all the spots that make me happy, then. Come on, or we won’t be back until after sundown!”
Patton and Roman ran out of the stage room, barely pausing to close the door behind them. The sun hurt Roman’s eyes, and the uneven roads kept him from kept him from ever truly getting his balance, although he was balanced enough to keep up with Patton, as he ran down the street and in to a plaza.
The plaza was mostly empty, except for a couple walking past. They were too deep in conversation to notice Roman and Patton.
“This plaza is better during the week. There’s musicians that play over there, and that shop sells the best sweet bread, and that shop is owned by my friend’s family, and he shows me how to make little machines. Do you think they made you?” Patton asked, pointing around the plaza.
“I don’t remember my creation. I just remember being turned on for the first time backstage,” Roman said.
“Huh, well, they’re really smart. Here, look,” Patton said, fishing a pocket watch out of his coats and flipping it open. It was in the shape of a heart, and it ticked along to the same beat as Roman’s own mechanical heart. Roman slowly took it in his hand, feeling the steel, the same material as his hand, and listening to it tick. A lightness rose up in his chest, and he smiled.
“Logan likes to talk me through how it works and how they make the steel, it’s something called the Bessemer process, I think? Or that might have been one they made before. But I think he’d like meeting you,” Patton said.
“I think I should like to meet him, too.”
“That’s be so fun! Alright, we should go if we want to have time to see everywhere,” Patton said, and he started running again.
Roman followed. He was getting more used to the way that the streets curved and bumped, and he didn’t feel quite as off-kilter as he had before. This time, Patton lead him down a small trail in to a glen. He stopped a little ways in to the tree cover in the center of the tiny valley.
“This is the glen. No one ever comes here, but it’s a great place to hide,” Patton said, “I only take my best friends down here.”
Roman felt a lightness in his chest at being called Patton’s best friend.
“Patton, I’ve been thinking about the word happy. I feel light and free, and I think that’s what happy means.”
“You’re be-glen-ing to see it!” Patton grinned.
“I don’t understand.”
“I made a pun, get it? Beginning and glen, be-glen-ing!”
Roman laughed, as he understood, “Allow me, I cannot be-leaf I didn’t get it sooner.”
Patton nodded and laughed back, snorting a little with the force of his laughter.
Patton led Roman on and on through different parts of the city. Their final destination was the very theater where they started, and Patton said it made him happy because it was the first place he remembered seeing a performance, and it reminded him of his new friend.
“I guess I should go before the director gets back,” Patton said, walking towards the door.
“Wait,” Roman said.
Patton stopped and turned back around.
“I’ve been happy all day with you, and I don’t feel quite that happy backstage. Would you mind a favor for a friend? I think I will be happy to only perform for you.”
“Of course you can come home with me,” Patton said, and Roman only looked back once to shut the door.
I can see the flattened grass where people walked to the river bank. To sit, to swim, to exist in the water. The sun dances across the water, flashing across my camera lens, as I focus it on a small bird across the river.
Click, click, click goes the camera, then the bird flies away. I walk down the few steps of barely-there path, set my camera, shoes, and socks away from the water, and wade in to it. Its cold bites through the oppressive summer heat, and I just stand there, existing, for a moment.
Then the wind blows and the moment is broken. I step back on to shore, sling my camera back around my neck, and put my shoes and socks back on. I step back on to the beaten path and keep walking.
but I want to do it again.
I stare out the window. The teacher drones on in the background. My name is said in the same breath as a question. I answer incorrectly. I try to pay attention.
I pick up my pencil. I stare at the blank paper. I sketch. It’s not a good sketch. I’m not a good artist. But it’s a sketch.
It’s a sketch of a bird. The bird sitting on a branch outside the window. The bell rings. The bird flies away. I drag myself to my next class.
It deserves to be done again.
The wind whistles around the house, but inside I am safe and warm, draped in blankets that make up for the heater that’s on its last legs. A bird sits outside the window, grasping tightly to a branch, but it doesn’t seem scared of the storm at all, in fact, it seems like its at peace in the howling wind and driving rain.
I pull out my watercolors and I paint the scene that I see in front of me, as I see it. I paint the frame of the window and the little white whatever-they’re-called that go across it in front of the outline of the tree and the tiny little bird, and the scene is a muddy mess, but you can still tell it’s a bird, or at least I hope you can tell its a bird.
Maybe I’ll try to paint it again, but better this time; clearer outlines and lighting and shadows, but by the time I can have this thought the bird hops away, and I’m left with the paper full of muddy, muted colors that somehow feels more vibrant than anything more realistic I could manage to paint.
Maybe it’s not that meaningful...
I lay on my back. The snow rises above my body, keeping it from view. It would be nice if it were a couple degrees warmer and the sun could decide to just stay behind the clouds.
Is this what it feels like to be dead? I could get why people are suicidal if it is. It’s nice. Eh, it’s probably not what being dead is like.
A bird that has clearly spent more time around people than I, a certified people, have hops over and looks at me. I fish my phone out of my pocket and take a picture. Right as I open up the photo album to look at the most confident mother-clucker I have ever seen, it flies away.
But?
Red and blue and yellow and red again. I lower my mask to take a look at my work. The spray paint drips and makes a cool design. A bird perches on the wall above me, peering down at me.
Maybe it wants to be painted. Heh, alright, buddy.
I pull my mask back over my face and paint it in a couple neat strokes. It’s not the most complicated thing I’ve ever painted, but it looks neat. Black and yellow and a touch of white to finish it off, right as it flies away. I bet it liked it, though.
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