DISCLAIMER : There's a high chance this whole fanfic is pure ass, I feel as if I can't write a thriller/police series for shit,, but I WANT to try. Either way,, I am in no way a professional/connoisseur in the domains of healthcare and police/investigation, so I might get a LOT of things wrong (such as the hospital's layout, the different legal procedures and such),, although I will try my best to do some research so everything isn't completely utterly bullshit
Warnings : I'll just try to tag each chapter appropriately if anything is too shocking
Summary : A corpse is discovered in the hospital's attached morgue, and the police are quick to get on the case ; especially Liam,, working a little too happily on the murder, much to his superior's despair, who doesn't especially like beating around the bush or spend countless months on a single investigation. It will lead them both to work with Julian Devorak, the hospital's hematologist, as well as his superior, the infamous lead surgeon of the neurosurgery department, Dr. Valdemar
Work in progress
CHAPTERS .đ„ Ę ËđȘ¶â. ââ .âŠ
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
dividers (except death head hawkmoth one) by @saradika-graphics
NOTE: You don't always have to use an alternative to said in order to get your point across! Please avoid overusing dialogue tags, and remember to spice things up in other ways.
Pairings: Adam Murray x Judas (OC)
Fandom: The Mandela Catalogue
Warnings: this chapter / part doesn't contain any specific warnings other than. Horror, I guess. some ooc maybe idk I'll try my best
Summary: A plan that swerves in all the directions except the intended one.
analog horror themed dividers: @saradika-graphics
[ 1 ]
The night was always dark in Mandela County. Every day the street lights felt colder and harsher to the eye, and sometimes it felt as if the sun would never rise at all. Life had gone off the rails. People kept disappearing, alternates kept roaming around, and yet, most people had to keep up with their daily lives, sometimes against their will. It was quiet in Mandyâs, the little convenience store not too far off from the highway that led into the county. The silence was only broken by the hums of the aisle fridges and the bright, artificial neon lights. A young man was working there, stocking one of the shelves. He had short, wavy auburn hair and deep green eyes, but there wasnât really anyone around to admire the handsome traits of his face. Night shifts were often pretty uneventful, especially in the current climate of things. It was⊠Boring, quite frankly. Once he was done, he headed over to the computer in the back room, and opened Dove Messenger. Nothing. He let out a little hum of annoyance, and decided to scroll back up his messages with a certain âAdam Murrayâ. Theyâd started chatting a week or two ago, and that probably had been the most interesting thing to happen in his life as of late. He leaned back in the office chair which creaked slightly, his eyes quickly skimming over the texts that had already been sent. Of course it was a bit awkward at first (it was always a bit awkward at first) but theyâd gotten along pretty easily⊠Despite this âAdamââs recent⊠Mood swings. He didnât really know what else to call them. Not that he cared much. Adam had been quite cryptic and anxious-sounding around the last time they talked.
âI feel like my skin is not my ownâ
Was the last thing heâd sent, on a Saturday night at 2 AM. The green-eyed young man had of course replied with a little paragraph aimed to reassure Adam, but whether or not that had been effective would probably forever be a mystery. He hesitated. Should he just let Adam be, let him come back on his own? Or should he try to coax a text out of him? He checked the clock: midnight. The other was probably awake. The young man decided to type something.
[Iscariotxoxo] : âYou ok? You havent been online in a while.â
Sent.
His leg started swinging idly under the desk as he waited for a response. He briefly glanced at the surveillance cameras to make sure there were no customers in the store before focusing his attention back onto the computer screen. There was nothing for a good twenty minutes before the young man was called back into the store by the distinct âdingâ of the automatic doors opening. He sighed, fighting the urge to roll his eyes before heading out of the back room, closing the door behind him. He offered a polite smile to the customer and stood behind the checkout counter, waiting for them to pick out their articles. He tried to listen to the faint rock music playing on the store speaker, but that thing was so old that it polluted any kind of audio with an uncomfortable amount of noise and crunches, so that was pretty much useless. He wouldâve turned it off, but he didnât remember how, and his manager hadnât picked up the phone in over four days. The green-eyed young man let out a quiet sigh, fingers drumming absentmindedly on the counter before he scanned the clientâs articles. He did the task mechanically (heâd done it so many times before, after all) and bid goodbye to the customer as they left before heading back in the back room, eyes riveted on the computer screen as soon as it he could see it.
[Adammurray88 is online]
He couldnât help but smile as he noticed that. He sat down, waiting for the other to type something, with, he noticed with some surprise, eagerness. He enjoyed talking to Adam, he realized, and him disappearing like that had been a bit frustrating, but he tried not to think about that too much. He wasnât supposed to feel like that, after all⊠Finally, he received a new message from the other:
[Adammurray88] : âdont pani câ
The green-eyed young man raised a curious eyebrow at the cryptic message. Adam was sometimes vague and a bit hard to read, but this was unlike anything heâd sent before. But before the young man could type anything back, the profile went offline again. He let out a slightly frustrated sigh, and went back behind the counter in the store. Looks like he wasnât getting any answers tonightâŠ
⊠Or so he thought.
He was fiddling with a stray pen when he noticed flickering, red and blue lights outside in the parking lot. A police car had come. The young man blinked in confusion. Was something going on? Or was it simply an officer on duty coming to grab themselves a snack? Regardless, a police officer stepped into the store, looking rather exhausted. His strands of hair were dyed blonde, although they could use a little redo. His eyes were underlined by dark eyebags, and the blue shirt of his uniform was a bit rumpled. The young man raised an eyebrow, curious as to why an officer was here during his service, but stayed calm and offered the same polite smile as he did other customers. The police officer came up to the counter straight away. He wasnât here to buy himself a snack after all.
âLieutenant Davis, Mandela County Police. Iâd like to ask you a couple of questions if thatâs alright.â
The green-eyed young man blinked, initially a bit confused, but he complied regardless. Had he been discovered? It didnât really matter, of course, itâs not like he was in any real danger.
âOf course. Do you want to sit down, coffee, somethingâŠ?â He inquired, pulling out a stool for himself.
The policeman sighed, running a hand over his tired face. He knew he probably shouldnât accept, but he caved in, his exhaustion catching up to him.
â⊠I wouldnât mind a coffee.â he mumbled.
The worker nodded and went over to the coffee machine, taking one of the disposable cups before handing it to the Lieutenant.
âThanks.â Thatcher whispered, taking the cup, while the worker went back behind the counter, sitting on the stool heâd pulled earlier. The policeman took a sip, his shoulders relaxing a bit as he got a taste of the hot, bitter drink. He then looked back up at the worker, looking at his uniform (which pretty much boiled down to a red cap and apron, a white t-shirt and jeans) and then his face. He had to admit, from a purely objective point of view, the young man behind the counter was handsome. He almost felt jealous for a second. The young man mustâve been a real heartbreaker back in highschool⊠He cleared his throat, focusing back on the matter at hand.
âI have⊠Uh, where to even begin.â He started, followed by another sigh. â⊠Have you noticed anything strange happen lately? At your workplace here in the store or even at home?â
The young man hummed in thought before shaking his head. âMh, no. Nothing out of the ordinary. The occasional drunkard or junkie but nothing more.â
Thatcher nodded. âNo TV turning on on its own, no knocking on the doors and windows?â
âNo, nothing like that.â The worker shook his head again.
âHuh.â Thatcher felt a tiny bit suspicious. â⊠Well, you might just be the only guy in Mandela County thatâs had a relatively peaceful life as of recent.â He put the cup of coffee down, looking at the badge with the workerâs name on it: âJudasâ.
âIf you donât mind me saying, you look exhausted, sir.â Judas remarked, with a hint of sympathy. â⊠Itâs this whole alternate business, isnât it?â
âYeah.â Thatcher conceded, but it seems the young man in front of him wanted to coax some more information out of himâŠ
âHave you ever seen one? An alternate, I mean? Iâve seen the broadcasts on TV, but Iâve never seen one in real life. Do they even exist?â
âThatâs confidential.â The policeman replied firmly, giving the young man a warning glare.
Judasâs eyebrow twitched faintly, but if he was annoyed, he hid it behind a shrug. âRight, sorry. Youâre the one supposed to ask the questions, not me.â Judas conceded, putting on his polite smile again.
Thatcher couldnât help but feel like something was⊠A bit off with the young man. Though he was probably just being paranoid. Yes, it must be that. He hadnât gotten much sleep recently, he must be imagining things⊠He lightly shook his head, focusing on the matter at hand.
âDo you have internet? Are you on Dove Messenger, by any chance?â
Judas nodded, a bit intrigued by the sudden interest in his online presence. âYes, I do. Why?â
Thatcher nodded. âRight⊠Whatâs your username?â
The young man frowned, looking a bit suspicious. âWhy do you want to knowâŠ? Do you need to investigate my profile or somethingâŠ?â
âSort of.â The policeman said with a nod.
Judas nodded and wrote down his Dove Messenger username on a little piece of paper, before handing it over to the Lieutenant. Thatcher took the paper, quickly looking over the name, before he let out a short sigh of⊠Relief?
âThank God, finally found you.â He mumbled, hoping Judas wouldnât hear⊠âIscariot, huh?â he continued, glancing at the young manâs nametag, âEmbracing the whole⊠Biblical aspects of your name, huh?â
Judas shrugged with a slight smile. âYeah, you can say that. Iâm not ashamed of my name and I just thought the⊠Username sounded cool.â
Thatcher nodded, finishing his cup of coffee. âJudas, youâre going to have to come with me to the police station.â Seeing the hint of confusion (and even anxiety) on the young manâs face, he quickly clarified: âthis isnât an arrest, donât worry no no, I just need you to come with me so I can properly interrogate you. I donât exactly, uh⊠Have my files or tape recorder here- besides itâs just protocol, nothing crazy. You can relax. Iâm not going to be keeping you for too long. Iâll need you to take your ID and other personal documents. Do we need to stop by your house for you to get them?â
Judas, now looking more relaxed, but still intrigued, shook his head. âNo, I have everything in my bag⊠I just have to close the store for the night, it might take a minuteâŠâ
The young man headed to the back room again, glancing one last time at the computer before turning it off. âdont pani câ. Did Adam know what was going on? Did he have anything to do with this? He shook his head. Regardless, he had to go with the policeman now; he couldnât afford to have his cover blown at the moment. He removed his red cap and apron and slipped on a coat before checking inside his bag. Hopefully, heâd manage to keep the Lieutenant busy enough, and he wouldnât spend too much time looking at his documentsâŠ
Author's note: WUAAGHH AArrrghh I don't knowowwwww I DONT KNOWWWW. I NEED THEIR STORY WRITTEN DOWN SOMEWHEEERREEE anyways enjoy ig. gentle reminder!! please don't come in my askbox saying Alex Kister is a bad guy, I am just here for the Mandela fandom and content nothing else <3
The little two-people boat sailed gently out of the fog, its wooden structure bearing the symbols of the Vanilla Kingdom. The sun shone high in a bright blue sky, the calm water of the sea gently nudging the boat towards a modest dock. White, thick clouds glided across the sky slowly, and a faint breeze brought a fresh and salty scent to the two cookies sitting in the boat. Pure Vanillaâs eyes widened a bit, admiring the peaceful scenery, and gazing at the grass-covered island in front of them.Â
âI didnât think you lived in such a place⊠It looks peaceful.â Pure Vanilla remarked, smiling as he looked at the sunny, albeit small landscape.
âIt is peaceful,â Orgeat agreed with a nod. ânothing can come disturb you here. Thereâs just the waves, the grass, the sky, the sun and the breeze.â
âThis,â he started, gesturing to the pitiful-looking village âis⊠uhm, where my friends stay when they come to visit me. They⊠used to each have their own houses, but as you can seeâŠâ Orgeat sighed. Pure Vanillaâs expression turned worried
âDid something happenâŠ?â He asked, worried. He took both of Orgeatâs hands into his own.
âOh, well, nothing unusual for the most part- I grew up, and friendships came and wentâ Orgeat replied with a shrug. He took a moment to appreciate the way the sunlight made his future husbandâs long hair shine brightly before continuing: âYou know how it is. Losing touch, and all that. In all honesty, I forgot about most of the houses - but there are some I still look at fondly⊠But it is quite exhausting to keep a whole house in optimal condition all on your own-â he chuckled âbut my point is. Yes, most houses donât have inhabitants anymore. And⊠Thatâs alright.â
Pure Vanilla nodded, but his chest still felt tight with sympathy for Orgeat. It couldnât be always enjoyable to look upon these faded ruins and reminisce on what was no moreâŠ
âBut here,â Orgeat gently tugged on Pure Vanillaâs hand, gesturing towards a few houses who looked, from the outside, intact. âsome still come. Sure, they donât necessarily stay long, but I appreciate it a lot when they do.â The both of them started walking towards one of the houses, built in dark oak with black rooftop tiles. âThis, for example, is the house of my childhood friend. Weâve been in contact basically our whole lives, and we still send each other letters from time to time, even if lifeâs circumstances drove us somewhat apart.â
âAh, yes⊠Things get dusty quite fast around here. â Orgeat said, apologetic. He walked over to the window and opened it, letting in some sunlight and the fresh breeze of the seaside. Pure Vanillaâs brows furrowed a bit.
âMaybe, but⊠How long has it been since anyone set foot here?â
Orgeatâs expression faltered slightly, before he quickly composed himself âYears⊠But as Iâve said, we keep in touch through letters.â
âOh-â Orgeatâs cheeks flushed in embarrassment again. âThatâs⊠me. I burnt this one while I was throwing a fit.â He gave the monarch a sheepish smile.
âShe was, but that is a story for another time. What matters is that sheâs not part of my life anymore.â
âGood, good.â Pure Vanilla hummed, though with lingering annoyance still.
They then walked up to a house. This one was different⊠It looked like it was never finished. Pure Vanilla, yet again, spared Orgeat a questioning glance, noticing the slight falter in his smile, and the bitterness that adorned his features. âAh, this oneâŠâ Orgeat sighed. âThey ended our friendship before I could even finish the house. Theyâve been to the island once or twice, but⊠Alas. It was⊠Quite a blow, for me. They were a friend I valued, and whose insight I deeply appreciated. I talked with them the way I couldnât talk with the others. We laughed, we shared and⊠And by the Witches they even nicknamed me âmy liegeâ! How am I supposed to recover from that?â Orgeat chuckled, wrapping an arm around Pure Vanillaâs waist and tugging him close, almost to reassure himself. He continued: â... They were even a great advocate of our relationship.â He sighed once more. âI do not know what drove them away. They refused to tell me. I still have the letter in which they forever bid goodbye to me.â
âIâm so sorry,â he said softly, placing a kiss on his cheek."it mustâve been difficult to part ways with them so brutallyâŠâ
âItâs⊠alright. It happens.â Orgeat replied, giving a kiss on Pure Vanillaâs forehead in return. âI only wish theyâd told me more. I knew I wouldnât be able to make them change their mind -it wouldnât have been right to try, either way- but still, I would have appreciated⊠Some closure.â
Pure Vanilla nodded in agreement. âIt was not quite fair indeed,â he commented âit is disrespectful, too. You deserved to have a proper explanation. I know how it is to have a friend pretty much vanish - even if our situations do not quite compare. Iâve even been the vanishing friend. But I always made sure to reach out again. No one deserves to be left in the dark about something as important as a friendshipâ
The dirt path went up in a slope towards the top of the hill, the air getting slightly crispier as they went. Orgeat made sure Pure Vanilla followed, and wouldnât let go of his hand for the rest of the path, which ended right atop of the hill, becoming a soft patch of grass as they now walked on the plateau of the hill.
âAnd thatâs where I live.â Orgeat said, smiling, gesturing proudly to a great, richly carved cathedral built in what Pure Vanilla assumed were volcano stones. He let out an awed hum, his eyes fixated on the buildingâs façade as they approached.
âIt was already there when I arrived on this island,â Orgeat explained, reaching into his pocket and retrieving the key to the heavy wooden doors. âI donât think Iâd be capable of building something like this myself.â
Once they were unlocked, he pushed the doors open. Their hinges creaked loudly, and Orgeat let out a huff -they were heavy doors- before stepping in. Pure Vanilla followed closely, a smile adorning his face once more as he observed the inside of the cathedral - the floor tiles, the lined pews, and the stained glass windows which captured his attention the longest. They were larger than heâd anticipated, turning the bright sunlight of noon into an array of colorful rays which painted the floors and benches in specks of green, blue, purple, orange, gold, red⊠It gave a near magical essence to the building, adding a layer of unexpected beauty to the holy place.
âBeautiful, isnât it?â Orgeat said, taking a few steps forward to join Pure Vanilla in the main alley -after giving him some time to admire the surroundings-. His voice echoed softly.
âVery,â Pure Vanilla agreed, a hint of admiration in his voice. âI have a feeling youâre the one who organized the colors on the windowsâŠâ
âI did,â Orgeat confirmed with a chuckle. âThey were all broken when I arrived here. It was quite the challenge to put them back together and to give the colors their former glory.â
âI canât imagine how amazing it must be to hold sermons in such a grand place.â Vanilla continued, sounding eager.
âAh, the thing isâŠâ Orgeat continued, sounding sheepish and embarrassed once again. âI do not do sermons here. Or preach at all, for that matter.â
Pure Vanilla blinked, confused. âOh? Why not?â
â... There is no one to preach to.â Orgeat replied softly, but also with a hint of resignation.
âItâs alright,â Orgeat replied, leaning slightly into the other cookieâs displays of affection. âI am not quite fit for preaching either way. I am content to just be.â
Orgeat then guided Pure Vanilla to a discreetly concealed door behind the altar, which gave access to the cookieâs own bedroom. Vanilla couldnât help but smile fondly - he saw so much of his future husbandâs personality in this room! It was a bit chaotic, without a single whole aesthetic, but rather bits and pieces, scattered both carelessly and carefully in organized little spots. There were piles of books, sketchbooks, clothes, and other trinkets. There was only one, large window, which allowed light to pour onto the little crowd of bright green plants carefully placed in front of it. Pure Vanilla looked around, chuckling to himself sometimes when heâd see something that was so uniquely Orgeat. Meanwhile, the other cookie went over his desk, opening a box from which he took out a little pile of letters. Intrigued, Pure Vanilla stepped over to him, and peered over his shoulder.
âThese are some letters I kept,â he explained âfrom friends, family, anyone really. The more important ones. Some even have little gifts with them.â He opened one of them in particular. It looked more recent than the others. It read;
âGood day,
No, I do not plan on remaining friends â nor of speaking again anytime in the future. I will elaborate on the reason being that we are not compatible as friends after all.
Please do not insist upon further explanations or the sort, that will be all.
As the end of the afternoon rolled around, Orgeat took Pure Vanilla outside again, in the small space behind the cathedral. There was a bench here, in the grass, allowing the both to sit down and look at the sea. The hilltop ended in a rather sharp and abrupt edge, but they didnât plan on diving down in the water below anytime soon. Pure Vanilla took a moment to simply allow the atmosphere to sink in, letting his earlier annoyance fade. His hand was in Orgeatâs yet again. He noticed a couple of butterflies -which, now that he thought about it, had been the only presence of wildlife on the island. There wasnât even a seagull flying around⊠The thought made him sad for Orgeatâs sake- fluttering around flowers. They were lilies of the valley, their small, white little bells dangling softly in the breeze. Pure Vanilla smiled at the sight.
âYes, they are mine.â The other cookie confirmed. âI donât remember planting them there, but they grew a short while after I settled here. Which is strange, since normally this kind of flower grows in undergrowths or forests.â
âSpeaking of forestsâŠâ Pure Vanilla piped up, tilting his head curiously âthere is none here! I know how much you like forestsâŠâ
Orgeat chuckled. âIndeed, there isnât a forest here. I didnât quite know where to put it.â He looked back out at the sea. âBut I do hope to be able to grow some trees here, one day. Iâd love to grow an oak tree.â
Pure Vanilla smiled. He knew how much Orgeat liked nature. âI could help you, if you wishâ he said.
âPoppies used to grow there, too.â He said, his tone bearing a note of nostalgia and bitterness. Pure Vanilla knew that it was probably because something had happened. He stayed quiet, and listened intently, determined to find a way to alleviate his partnerâs sorrows one way or another.
â... I removed them,â Orgeat continued. âThey were⊠Symbols of a love that failed, faded and passed.â He said quietly. Pure Vanilla understood - he was talking about his previous relationship. His heart sank harder this time; the cookie knew just how deeply it had affected his lover, the scars still deeply embedded in the flesh of his heart and the essence of his soul. He could see the consequences firsthand -the doubt, the fear, the pleas for Vanilla to stay no matter whatâŠ- and it always upset him to think the cookie he loved went through such heavy heartbreak. He squeezed Orgeatâs hand harder. No one deserves to go through something like this. Love is a beautiful thing, and it is unfair that it ended in such a way for Orgeat - no, that it happened in such a way. From what he remembers of the first time Orgeat told him the story of his previous relationship, the cookie had felt heartbroken and desperate -truly desperate- more than once, nearly all throughout. He shouldnât have been. Love mustnât be a constant fight, mustnât be a constant struggle, endless prayers, numerous pleas, and flowing tears. He remembered how mortified he felt the first time he heard the story. Heâd vowed to never be like this, to never make Orgeat feel such things.
Orgeat hoped he would never have to remove these orchids from the grassy hilltop.
dividers by: @uzmacchiato
Cloud headers by: me :D please ask me if you would like to use them as well
Authorâs note: ARGHH goodness... this is something I wrote in hopes of connecting further with my husband after reading an unfortunate thing in the crk game that basically made purelily canon and it. Deeply upset me. But I know the truth the only canon that exists is us and its orvanilla PERIOD- hope you enjoyed the oneshot nonetheless! May your own yumeship be blessed and bloom forever <3
Pairings: Quaestor Valdemar x Liam (my mc) - platonic !
Fandom: The Arcana visual novel
Warnings: none
Summary: In the dead of the night, not everyone is asleep. But some can be... A little more active than others.
It was calm at this time of night at the palace. The corridors, ball room, drawing rooms and chambers were quiet, and dark. A few candles were resting at some turns, in case someone needed to get up and go somewhere. It was always better not to trip on your own feet in the dead of the night. Some people didnât need candles, however. Some could see perfectly in the dark.
The silence was only broken by the occasional hoot of an owl in the distance, as a window or two had been opened to let in some fresh air. But around three in the morning, the halls resonated with hurried, almost eager footsteps strolling around the palace. They didnât seem to have a precise destination in mind, and were wandering incoherently around...
Liam was fast asleep, no sign of a sleep walking episode bothering him tonight. His breathing was deep and even, and he was comfortably curled up under his thick blankets. He shifted a bit, to lie on his back, letting out a satisfied sigh as his head leaned back against and sinking into the half-plush half-firm pillow. He couldnât help but smile slightly: goodness, he could feel the muscles in his neck finally relax. Unfortunately, he didnât notice the door to his room openingâŠ
He was slowly pulled out of his slumber as he felt a weight on his chest. His brows furrowed in confusion as he squirmed a bit, and when he opened his eyes, he saw he was practically nose to nose with Quaestor Valdemar. He could swear their red irises were glowing softly in the dark. They were fixating him with even more intensity than usual, pupils blown wide. He was hopelessly confused, his eyes barely focusing on their face.
âValdemar...? What are you⊠What time is itâŠ?â The necromancer mumbled, his voice hoarse with sleep as he desperately tried to focus.
âThree and fourty-five minutes twenty-five seconds in the morning. Are you sleeping?â They answered, confusing the man further.
ââŠWhat?â
âNo? Perfect. I have to admit, I am a little bored.â Their head tilted, like it does so often. âHave I mentioned my last experiment? I do not think I have.â They were speaking a little faster than usual, werenât they? âSo it started when I saw that little corner in the dungeons which was covered in fungi because of the humidity and darkness down thereâŠâ
And then they started rambling, their lengthy tirade about testing and documenting seemingly never-ending. The more they spoke, the more Liam got confused. Of course, as they rambled on about their experiment, he found it somewhat interesting, it was just rather inconvenient right now, because⊠Again, it was three in the morning. The necromancer tried to get his point across and convince the demonic doctor to just wait until morning to tell him about this new experiment and let him sleep, but itâs like his words werenât even reaching them. They rambled, and rambled, all excited, and jumpy, too, sometimes, which just further exhausted Liam, leading him to let out a few frustrated whines.
But then, just as quickly as they came, they were gone. They jumped off Liamâs bed, trotted towards the door, turned back around briefly, and then they left, leaving the poor necromancer utterly confused once more. Liam sat up in bed, the muscles in his arms protesting at the sudden movement and struggling to push him upright. He looked at the still open door of his room, his mind feeling sluggish and struggling to come to terms with what had just happened. His eyes were begging him to lay back down and go back to sleep, and he tried, but unfortunately for him, he wouldnât quite sleep much moreâŠ
The next morning, at breakfast, he tried to focus on the pastry on his plate and ignore the way Volta was eyeing it hungrily. He had things to do today, after all. Portia brought in some tea for the Countess, and seeing Liamâs dishevelled state, she walked up to him.
âLiam, are you ok?â She asked, obviously concerned.
"...They have the zoomies. The three-in-the-morning zoomies..." Liam tiredly and incredulously whispered to her, without looking up from his pastry.
Portia looked confused at first, but then it clicked. She gave a knowing sigh, looking at him with a hint of sympathy and an apologetic smile, patting his back and giving him a quick side-hug.
Author's note: aaaa this is so short Im so sorry đ Im trying to get back into writing to continue Murder at the Hospital but the inspiration... sigh, has been a bit non existent as of recent
Vesuvia Weekly ; If you're cold, Theyâre cold, Let them in!
Pairings : The Courtiers x Reader - Platonic
Fandom : The Arcana visual novel
Warnings : Nun. Just fluff.
Summary : Winter is finally here! But it is uncharacteristically cold, so much so beings doing the bidding of the Devil himself come to you for help...
Ah, winter. Some love it, some hate it. Either way, Vesuvia was bustling with life, getting ready to celebrate the winter solstice. Streets, shops and homes were being decorated, restaurants were preparing their most special menus, and the palace was organizing the annual banquet...
You were one of the palace's guests this year. Your heart was thumping with excitement in your chest as you put the little handmade, wooden decorations near your window. Murielâs work was always your favorite; the little animals all looked so sweet, and there was something beautiful about his large, calloused hands carefully carving something so small. You could almost feel little sparks of magic coming from the wooden bear in your hands as you placed it next to the other animals.
You knew you wouldnât have time to decorate your guest quarters much more, but it didnât really matter. Dinner time was coming closer with each minute that passed and so you got down to business: you had to look your absolute best.
Quaestor Valdemar, a frown on their face, pushed the doors of the palace open and were quick to shut them behind them. They let out a shaky breath as they mumbled a little insult under their breath. What was it with this yearâs winter? They could almost feel their bones shaking! They hadnât been out in such a cold weather in at least 500 years... They tried to get themselves together and rubbed their hands, checking their pouch one last time to see if they had everything they needed - they werenât going to go back outside anyway -. They clutched their cloak tightly as they made their way back to the dungeons and put the ingredients of their pouch onto the shelves of their office, their hands afflicted by a slight shakiness which was uncomfortably out of character. They groaned in frustration once they were done, clutching their cloak a little tighter around them. Itâs like the cold air had seeped through their skin, their muscles, their bone marrow even! How was that even possible? Was it really that cold out? It didnât matter. Theyâd feel better soon, anyway.
Volta and Vulgora came back from their little stroll in town, baskets of fresh meat and vegetables for the dinner in their arms. The Pontifex had been reluctant to accompany the Procurator, but she had insisted on being the one to pick the food for tonight, arguing she'd know which one would be the best to buy. Once Vulgora had dropped the -numerous- baskets of food in the palace's kitchens, they found Volta in one of the drawing rooms, near the fireplace, in the middle of a fit of sneezing. They were slightly confused but they couldnât say they were especially worried. They briefly checked up on her but nothing more, since Nadia had come in and decided to handle things herself. Vulgora walked out of the drawing room and back to their quarters, removing their thick cloak with a sigh. They didnât exactly understand why they had even put it on; they were feeling way too hot with it. They discarded it on the bed before adjusting their usual outfit. They didnât feel like making efforts for the banquet tonight. They just didnât see the point. Itâs not like they were celebrating a victory or something...
You did the last few buttons of your top and gave yourself one last once-over in the mirror... Perfect. You smiled and adjusted your jewelry one last time before exiting your guest quarters. The clock struck eight and you excitedly went downstairs. You could already hear the chatter from guests in the main hall, see servants walking back and forth, carrying plates of amuse-bouches and various small pastries. You figured the banquet had begun, but the main dishes hadnât been served yet. You took a deep breath and entered the hall, greeting some guests you recognized, and getting yourself a few snacks and a drink. The cooks had outdone themselves, as always. As you savored your salmon tartare toast, someone called your name at the other end of the hall; and they sounded angry...
"WITCH!! WILL YOU GET THEM OFF OF ME THEYâRE COLD LIKE - ARGH, CAZZO, DONâT SQUEEZE ME LIKE THAT!!"
You turned around, confused, only to see a very frustrated Vulgora trying to squirm out of Valdemarâs grasp. You blinked. That... was unusual. You approached the scene with a certain sense of hurry, and addressed the Quaestor, who was almost holding Vulgora in place.
"What are you doing?" You questioned. They looked up at you, their face deliberately expressionless.
"... Theyâre warm." They simply stated.
Your confusion only grew as you looked between them both. Vulgora sighed as they gave up trying to escape the demonic doctorâs grip.
"...uhm... I suppose they are. Is it- why you're clinging to them like that?" You asked Valdemar. They seemed to pause, as if they were carefully choosing their words. They briefly looked around, at the guests, and then back at you. Their voice lowered, to make sure you were the only one to hear them.
"I'm cold. I canât seem to warm myself up... I tried the fireplace, the coat, all that."
Your eyes widened. They were cold?
"... So you... Decided to try and use Vulgora to warm yourself up?" You wondered aloud, as the Pontifex tried to squirm away from their grasp again.
"I'M NOT YOUR PERSONAL FIREPLACE, LET GO YOU FIGLIO DI PUT-"
You cut them off before things escalated.
"Woah woah, we're going to find a solution, donât worry... Valdemar, could you just please let go of the Pontifex...?"
Valdemar stared at you for a second, before slowly releasing Vulgora from their grasp. The Pontifex swore some more as they put a good distance between themselves and the doctor, who was now intently looking at you. You could make out a sense of confusion in their eyes, as if they hadnât been in this situation before and simply didnât know what to do. You looked at their cloak, and gloves, they even had a scarf... You took their hands in your own and gasped. It was like cupping a handful of snow and ice...
"You're freezing!" You exclaimed, somewhat alarmed. Valdemarâs head tilted slightly, probably confused as to why you were worrying so much. You looked around, before dragging them to one of the unoccupied guest quarters. You hurriedly instructed them to replace their cloak with the thick blankets of the bed, and then asked them to sit by the fireplace, as close as possible. You then quickly lit a fire thanks to a spell and made sure theyâd be close enough to the heat.
"There, it should help a little bit... I'll check up on you after the banquet, alright? Donât move from here."
They looked at you leave the room, secretly dumbfounded and maybe even a little insulted. They werenât a child! They could look after themselves, thank you very much. When the door closed they looked back at the fire. They had to admit, the warmth was nice... They werenât sure if the blanket was doing anything though.
You sat at the ridiculously long dinner table, eyeing the guests who were happily chattering amongst themselves. Your mind was elsewhere, however. You had noticed a few times already how the air seemed to get chilly whenever the great doors of the palace opened to welcome in more guests. You were thankful no more people were going to show up, because you had had a hard time warming yourself back up each time the outside air got in. You thought about Valdemar, who, hopefully, was still in the guest room by the fireplace, and your heart squeezed with a hint of worry. You didn't know why, but it did... You took another bite of your salmon tartare and let your mind wander. You had always had an inexplicable soft spot for the courtiers. You always found their antics funny, and somewhat cute as well sometimes.
Your gaze drifted to Vulgora, who was obviously bored. Apparently, no one wanted to entertain their tales of battle and violence⊠You noticed Volta, a few seats further, who was joyfully devouring her food, plate after plate, and you noticed some of the guests even gave her their leftovers. You resisted the urge to tell her to slow down a bit and chuckled to yourself. Vlastomil was monologuing to one of the guests, probably about his worms, while Valerius â who seemed to be enjoying himself at least a bit â was having a rather in depth conversation with yet another guest. You swirled your drink, took a sip of it and adjusted the shawl Nadia had passed you earlier, when she had noticed you were a bit cold. You still had a hard time warming yourself up, howeverâŠ
Once the dinner was over â thank the gods â, you hurried upstairs, to the guest room you had left Valdemar in. You entered without knocking, and was surprised to find them exactly as you left them: they were still enveloped in the blanket, sitting in front of the fireplace and looking at the dancing flames in the hearth. You quietly closed the door and sat down beside them.
âBetter?â you asked softly. They turned their head towards you, their red eyes gleaming even more strangely than usual because of the dim lighting of the fireplace.
âBetter what?â they inquired.
âI meant, do you feel any better? Warmer?â
They paused, as if mulling over the question.
âSlightly. It took a long time, however.â they looked back at the flames. âWhat puzzles me the most is why. I canât say I have ever felt a sense of coldness persist this long before.â they paused. You took their hand again.
âYouâre right, youâre barely any warmerâŠâ you sighed. âCan I⊠Try something?â
They looked at you again. âDepends. Whatâs the protocol of your experiment?â
You blinked. They clarified: âWhat do you want to try?â
You carefully took one of their hands in your own again, holding it like it might slip away anytime. You focused on trying to warm your hands with a bit of magic, hoping that warmth would help the Quaestor. They tilted their head. âThrough physical touch? It could work. I canât say my body emits any warmth of its own. Maybe it could do the trick.â
You resisted the urge to make any comments. Valdemar had never been one for touch or things like that⊠They must be desperate for a solution to their problem, you thought.
âCan I hold you, then?â you asked, scooting closer. The Quaestor blinked at your request, and scrutinized your face for a while. You couldnât tell what they were thinking even if you tried â with or without spells â and so you just anxiously waited for a response. After what felt like an eternity, they extended one arm towards you, wrapping it awkwardly around your shoulders as you brought yourself closer to them. You resisted the urge to chuckle; they obviously werenât used to snuggling close to someone, and their movements felt very calculated and at the same time improvised. You scooted close to them, wrapping your arms around them securely after re-adjusting the blanket around you both. Oh, they were cold as a river of iceâŠ
âYou poor thingâŠâ You mumbled, holding them a bit closer.
âExcuse me?â
âNo, Nothing.â You quickly stammered.
You two stayed like this for a long while, and you half expected Valdemar to just push you away at some point, but they didnât. You allowed yourself to relax⊠You could feel the warmth of the fire, and you swore you felt Valdemarâs body finally warm up. You let out a little sigh, your eyes threatening to close⊠But a harsh knock on the door drew your attention.
âMagician, you in there?â Vulgoraâs angry voice rung behind the door.
âYeah? What is it?â You asked, curious.
The door opened to reveal a very much annoyed Pontifex, to whom clung a shivering Volta, a shaky Vlastomil and a snob but obviously cold Valerius. You blinked and your jaw dropped slightly.
â...What-â
âAs I said before, I am not anyoneâs personal fireplace. Thereâs an actual fireplace here, I see. So-â They stepped in, dragging the three others with them, and one by one put them by the fire. â-Iâm leaving them here.â You were⊠A bit surprised they were so effortlessly holding the other courtiers.
âUhm, well, sure, I mean-â You didnât have time to finish your sentence, as Vulgora walked out of the room, slamming the door shut behind them. You could swear you heard Valdemar let out an annoyed little âtskâ as they looked at the others, who had sat a bit closer to you both. The silence settled, occasionally broken by a quiet sneeze from Volta. You were⊠A bit confused on what to do, honestly. You hadnât planned on helping more than one cold courtierâŠ
ââŠâ You looked behind you, back at the bed. It would be big enough for all of you, noâŠ?
â⊠Alright, uhmâŠâ You spoke up, and looked at the courtiers around you. âWe can- settle on the bed, thatâll be more comfortable than the floor and well⊠You three can⊠There should be some extra blankets in the closet, just⊠Make yourselves at ease, I suppose.
As the night rolled in for good, Vulgora found themselves pacing around in their quarters. They were bored, and they had no idea why. But there was something else poking at their chest, an emotion they didnât like, but couldnât name. Their thoughts drifted back to you, and how you were snuggled up to Valdemar by the fireplace. They frowned and gritted their teeth. What was it they felt? Envy? Jealousy? Hurt? They simply couldnât place it⊠But they had to fix it. They stomped out of their quarters and back to the guest room, where they unceremoniously invited themselves, closing the door firmly behind them. They crossed their arms and contemplated the scene before them⊠You were still snuggled up to Valdemar, and Volta was snuggled up to you, while Vlastomil was snuggled up to Volta, and Valerius was snuggled up to Vlastomil â strangely enough â. It seems only Valdemar was still awake, as they looked up from the⊠Pile? Whatever. Their eyes scrutinized the Pontifex, and after a while they quietly sighed and gestured for them to join. Vulgora huffed quietly, before pushing their way through the line of snuggles, so they could take Voltaâs place beside you. The small courtier protested, but realizing it was Vulgora, she snuggled up to them, as did the others, realizing they were just⊠Radiating an unreasonable amount of warmth. They laid there, wordlessly holding onto you while they stared back at Valdemar â who had no one but you clinging to them â.
â⊠Shut up.â They mumbled.
âI didnât say anything.â Valdemar responded smugly.
âYou thought it! And you thought it too loud! I could hear it!â They argued in a whisper, making the Quaestor chuckle to themselves.
And that is how you spent the winter solstice nightâŠ
Author's note : I'm so sorry it's a bit wacky,, but I'm a little tired :')) I still hope you enjoyed !
green+ moon dividers by @saradika-graphics (THEY'RE SO CUTE)
Pairings: Liam (my mc) x Quaestor Valdemar - Platonic
Fandom: The Arcana visual novel
Warnings: Valdemar experimenting a bit at the beginning, so gore ; angst? Stress? ; some fluff yes yes
Summary: How long had it been since they had let someone get this close? It had been a long time for sure. Too long, maybe. So long they had forgotten what it was like to have someone care, even if a little bit...
It was a normal day. A good day, even. Experiments had been successful and Valdemar had made progress on the most recent one, the evidence of that laying right under their hands as they poked and prodded at the lump of flesh. They smiled to themselves, enjoying the quiet athmosphere of the dungeons, the silence only broken by the occasional water droplet hitting the ground in the distance and the clicking of their instruments together. It was nice when things went smoothly, especially when 'things' were the routine. If they were honest with themselves, they appreciated their routine. Especially when nothing disturbed it...
Well.
Little did they know, it was about to be disturbed. They faintly heard hurried footsteps coming downstairs in the distance, and only raised a curious eyebrow at the noise, not looking up from their experiment. They heard the door to the operating hall open - almost too loudly - as well as the faint sound of panting. Only then did they turn around, slightly annoyed at being interrupted. Their annoyance ever so slightly faded when they noticed it was just Liam. They took a moment to observe him... He looked nervous, on edge, tense, which was rather unusual. But what was even stranger was the way he relaxed as he saw them, letting out what sounded like a relieved breath. They were slightly confused but figured he was fine enough. They were about to turn back to their experiment when they noticed the necromancer approaching.
"You have no idea how happy I am to see you."
He said, accompanied with yet another sigh, the tension slowly seeping out of his shoulders and body. The Quaestor blinked a few times. They were used to strange things, but this somehow sounded stranger than usual. They knew Liam had sort of a tender, friendly spot for them, but to see him actively relax in their presence left them... Confused, intrigued. They looked back at the necromancer, noticing both the relief and worry on his face.
"Are you now?" They replied, scrutinizing his gaze to try and find the source of this unusual behavior.
Liam nodded. "I had a... Weird dream. A bad dream."
Aaah, so thatâs what it was. Oh well. Nothing to be alarmed about.
"You were there, too." Liam continued.
Mh?
"I was... I donât know, breaking red chains and next thing I know you were... Turning to dust in my hands..."
...
Valdemar turned to look back at him. They had not missed the way Liamâs voice wavered towards the end, nor the spark of hurt in his eyes. It was clear the dream had affected him deeply, or at least enough for him to come down to the dungeons to... To check on them? This was just getting stranger and stranger.
"Nonsense."
They simply replied, briefly going back to their experiment.
"What a silly dream to have."
They mused. Of course, they knew what the dream meant. But they didnât want Liam to know, if only for their own safety. Of course, the chances of this happening were low, lower than the depths of hell itself, but... Better safe than sorry.
A few moments of silence passed before the necromancer did something they really did not expect. As soon as they turned around, he captured them in an embrace. They barely had time to react. He squeezed them close, without a word. It seemed to have been an impulsive, emotion driven decision rather than a rational one, but it didnât lessen Valdemarâs confusion. Their first reflex was to try and jerk away, however, they found themselves momentarily parylized, as if their mind had decided that 'wait. Itâs not that bad.' This... Only confused them more. Their brows furrowed as they quickly attempted to analyze what was currently going on in their mind: confusion, surprise, a hint of repulsion and...
They blinked.
What was this last thing? This little spark of... Something. The way they felt Liamâs warmth seep through their clothes. The proximity. The way his hair kind of tickled theor cheek. It was... Warm.
The more they tried to analyze the feelingw the more confused they became. What was the meaning of all this? What... Were they feeling?
Meanwhile, the necromancer, oblivious to their internal struggle, continued to hold them just as tight. He felt his heart hammering in his chest, although he felt it start to calm down a bit. It had been... A long time since he'd hugged anyone. Even if so impulsively. A moment of weakness, he supposed... He wondered if he should let go. But then he felt the way the Quaestor relaxed, even if subtly. They werenât protesting. Werenât wriggling themselves out of his grasp... He loosened his own grip, realizing he mightâve come off as strange, wrong even. He sighed.
Valdemar was still trying to analyze their feelings, especially the foreign one, the one that was nagging at their chest, the one that made them relax, the one that made them realize this actually felt nice, the one that felt so foreign yet familiar. They let out a sigh of their own, realizing they wouldnât be able to fight it off, or brush it aside. They tried desperately to keep up their cold, unfeeling facade, despite the subtle want to wrap their arms around the necromancer, too.
They didnât know how long it lasted. But with every second that passed, they found that they almost enjoyed it. They wouldnât allow themselves too. They wouldnât outright admit it felt nice. They would refuse to acknowledge that yes, the fact Liam, after a nightmare where he had most probably killed them without realizing, was hugging them out of relief - because they were very much here, and in fact, not dead - didnât leave them indifferent.
He cares.
The realization hit them like a ton of bricks. Of course they knew he was a little more attached to them than most. But...
He cares.
By the gods, he cares.
When was the last time someone had cared about them? Any memory of those times were deeply buried beneath layers of fog and devilish binds, and yet... Like a tenacious plant poking out of the barren, dried and harsh soil, a little feeling of comfort, a little emotion was there, nestled in their cold, dead heart. It was a mere speck. Not nearly enough to be qualified as a whole feeling, only the faint ghost of what once was human, but... It was there. They found themselves relaxing further, and decided to bask in the few more seconds of warmth Liam would give them.
When he pulled away, they regarded him for a moment. He was almost avoiding their gaze, but they could clearly make out the relief and emotion in his eyes, signs of his own internal struggle. They stood there silently for a second, debating on what to do. What to say. But they didnât know what.
They hesitantly raised their hand, letting it hover in the air for a second, as if calculating the trajectory of their movement, before giving Liam an awkward, friendly pat on the shoulder.
Friendly...
The necromancer smiled, and quietly chuckled. It seemed he didnât exactly know what to say either, and so he just looked at them for a moment. There didnât seem to be any need for words, actually. After a few seconds of staring, they both turned around, heading to their respective tasks, Liam walking out of the dungeons and Valdemar going back to their experiments.
Despite their best efforts, the Quaestor was unable to hold back a small, somewhat fond smile from stretching their lips.
Pairings : Liam (my mc) x Quaestor Valdemar - Platonic
Fandom : The Arcana visual novel
Warnings : Plague years, wipeeee đ„; beetles maybe ; human corpses/bodyparts ; sickness everywhere ; spooky spooks scares scary (so horror, if I write it correctly) ; sick people ; vomitting ; gore
Summary : Working in the dungeons is something alright. Even more so when there's literally a room no one ever goes to, not even the head physician of the palace...
The Plague was ravaging Vesuvia. Doctors came and went, hurried through rows of beds and operation tables, bumping into each other. It was, sadly, rather normal. Sounds of loud coughing and retching echoed through the dungeonsâ halls... Music to the Quaestorâs ears. Boxes of instruments were moved around, from one desk to a table, doctors shouted at nurses and nurses shouted at doctors. The horrid air filled their nostrils and they let out a blissful sigh. Those sounds, this smell, it was almost akin to a lullaby for them. As the day came to an end, they retreated to their office, as they rubbed their hands together and got ready to count todayâs victims.
The office itself was noticeably more quiet, which was somewhat appreciated, since they had to focus on writing, counting, and organizing. They flipped through the various files the doctors had slipped under their office door throughout the day, looking through the reports, causes of death and such. After writing down everything, they organized the reports in a neat pile which they then dumped in the wooden box at their feet. They stretched, their joints snapping slightly from staying sitting in the same position for too long.
They tilted their head as they heard a knock at the door. "Come in." It was strange for someone to come in at that time. Or come in at all. As the door opened, they recognized Dr.072. They stood up from their chair. "Can I help you?"
"Yeah I uh... Canât find your trash tub?" Liam said, slightly awkward.
Ah, the trash tub. The little recipient in which they tossed whatever bodypart they were done with.
"Yes, I put it near the well this time." They replied, straightening their apron and swiftly walking out of the office, expecting Dr.072 to follow, which he did. Once they both reached the pit, Valdemar gestured to the trash tub, and Liam opened the beetle well to dump its contents inside. He watched as the various lumps of bloody flesh slipped into the well with a ploof, the skittering of the delighted red beetles feasting reaching his ears. He looked at the swarm of insects for a little while, torn between shuddering and smiling. Liam sighed and put the empty trash tub away, looking back at Valdemar, who had closely observed the trash disposal with their eerie grin, as usual.
"...Say, I have a question."
Liam said, breaking the silence.
"Mh?"
"...Whatâs behind that door?"
He pointed at the old, dark, small door at the very end of the operating hall.
"Mh? I donât know, I never went there."
... Pardon? Valdemar, never having gone to one of the corners of their dungeons? That...
"What?"
They shrugged
"It never seemed important. Do you want to go check? I wonât stop you."
Liam hesitated, looking back at the door. He walked towards it, his steps resonating in the hall, as Valdemar watched, standing still in their spot. The necromancer approached the door, carefully avoiding the splats of blood and flesh on the ground. He paused, and looked it up and down. The wood was dark and dull, as if it had been smoked, nearly burned. It didnât look very sturdy, but as Liam got a hold of the doorknob, he found himself struggling to push the door open. He took a deep breath and shoved his shoulder into the wood, and nearly tumbled forward as the door opened. He looked beyond, trying to see something in the darkness. But all he could see were stairs... Stairs leading into nothing. Little particles of ash flew before his eyes and he stood there for a second, stunned. What was this room...?
He looked at the stairs, wondering if he should go down. But as he saw the way they slowly disappeared into nothingness, he decided against it. Where could they lead...? He looked at the blackness in front of him again, trying to sense something, a hint of magic, looking for clues of someone's past presence... But he found nothing. A thin layer of dust covered each steps of the stairs, but there wasn't a single cobweb or a single beetle to be found here. He swallowed nervously. This... This wasn't good. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but the fact that there seemed to be absolutely nothing in there... Bugged him. As if something was supposed to be there, but it wasn't anymore, long gone, vanished eons ago, out of reach for his mortal mind...
He swallowed thickly. This... Whatever this was, was wrong. And yet he couldn't bear to look away. As if he was stuck in place, bound to be frozen in place as those stairs and the mysterious room ahead were.
"Should we go down?"
Liam gasped loudly and flinched as he heard Quaestor Valdemar's voice right next to his ear. He tried his best to calm back down, looking between them and the stairs.
"... Are we supposed to?" He inquired, making the surgeon's head tilt.
"Whatever do you mean? Are you trying to say we are forbidden from entering this place?"
Liam paused, and looked back at the eerie staircase. They weren't... Wrong. He did feel as if he wasn't supposed to go down. But why, if there was nothing there...?
"..."
Valdemar's gaze looked at the stairs too. They paused, contemplating what was before them, a mix of curiosity and resilience swelling in their chest. They couldn't tell what was down there, and that was curious. But at the same time, if they of all people couldn't guess what was there, then maybe there was nothing to see. Or... There was something, but they or Dr.072 weren't allowed to know. What a puzzling dilemma... Finally something interesting.
They quietly debated in their mind for a while, just as Liam did. They both stood in front of the eerie staircase, unsure of what to do.
"... You know what? Let's not. That would be a waste of time."
"Yes, I believe it would."
Both agreed to close the door and go about Vesuvia's plague business as they were supposed to. The mysterious room, however, had now a place in the back of Valdemar's mind... As time went on, they found themselves more, and more, and more curious. They decided to go in. What were they risking, anyway?
When all the doctors had left the dungeons, they stood in front of the ominous staircase again, and, one step at a time, went down. Their silhouette was progressively engulfed by the darkness, and their eyes got used to the obscurity. There was almost quite literally nothing but barren, dusty, grey and ash-colored walls, and the staircase was exactly 55 steps - they'd counted, just in case -. They reached a cube-like empty room, and looked around attentively, trying to find little clues, such as things carved in the brick walls, or buttons, or any kind of thing that stood out and could give them an answer. All they found was a small, metallic gear on the floor. They crouched down and picked it up to inspect it.
They felt a strange sensation in their hands, a faint hum of... Energy, or something similar. They looked at the gear attentively, trying to comprehend what this thing was and what it was doing there... But they couldn't figure it out. This... Was probably the strangest thing. They could feel it - the object almost vibrating, its energy trying to come into contact with their mind, but failing. It was like dipping one's head underwater or standing in the breeze, a faint flow, a glimpse, a snipet from a realm they didn't know of. Whatever the object, and who or what was attached to it, was trying to communicate, it failed. It just couldn't reach them, no matter how much it tried.
After a while of unsuccessful attempts at discovery, they sighed, and decided to go back up. They put the gear down, and took the stairs back up to the dungeons...
The following day, they decided to talk about their discovery to Dr.072, only to be met with confusion on his part.
"What staircase?"
They were even more confused by the fact he didn't seem to remember, and briefly checked if it wasn't some symptom of illness but... He was completely fine. No magical or physical traces of modifications on his body or in his mind, no sickness no fever...
And when they went back to the staircase, they were met with a simple wall, as if it had simply never been there.
Summary : Life is different now... But there are still means to find warmth and comfort in each other.
Julianâs eyes lazily fluttered open. He felt the small branches of his makeshift bed-nest poke his face through the fabrics he'd gathered to try and make it more comfortable. He slowly came back to his senses, feeling his feathers, his longer, stronger limbs, his talons and-
Ouch
His wings. They were both still sore, but the left one hurt. Not as bad as when these arrows flew through it, but it was certainly bothersome. Maybe he shouldnât have struggled against Liam and Valdemar so much. After all, they'd just wanted to help him...
He sighed and let his eyes wander around the Hanged Raven. The cursed tavern was quiet tonight, the air eerily still. Tables and chairs were knocked over, and empty Salty Bitters scattered on the floor. He felt his heart tighten with inexplicable sadness, which was something that had happened a lot in this tavern already. He curled up on himself, taking a deep breath, seeking comfort in his own embrace. He was about to try and close his eyes again when the front door opened, making him perk up. Boots thudded against the creaking floorboards, a large sword was put on one of the tables and Death sighed heavily, pulling the hood of his bloody cape back. Julian felt his heart flutter as he saw Liamâs familiar face. He sat up in the nest, despite the way the pain in his wing made him wince.
The necromancer took off his armor as quickly as he could, smiling softly as he approached the bird man. He was quick to sit in the makeshift nest and wrap his arms tightly around him, inhaling the soft, discreet scent of his feathers. Julian blushed as he also felt Liam squeeze him tighter. Hesitantly, he wrapped his own arms around the smaller man, trying not to make it too comfortable. He didnât want to accidentally scratch him with his talons...
"Campâs pretty boring without you around."
Liam suddenly commented, his voice tired and hoarse form yet another battle today.
"Really?" Julian replied, with a dry chuckle.
"Mh... You brighten the mood, you know?"
"..Looking like this?" He replied, skeptical.
"Yeah."
Liam looked up at the bird manâs face, a warm, tender smile stretching his lips and an adoring look in his eyes. Julian almost felt like crying again. He shook his head and chuckled.
"You're too good for me."
"Nonsense."
Liam protested, running his finger through the dark feathers of the manâs head. Julian felt a soft shiver run over his skin.
"Howâs your wing?"
"Itâs... Capricious, if I can say that. But it certainly isnât as bad as yesterday." Julian replied, glancing at his still bandaged wing. Liam nodded.
"Thatâs good... We'll just have to check it tomorrow to make sure itâs not infected. Now hold on, I know you're not looking forward to Valdemar being near you but... Theyâre our only surgeon. Besides, I told you, I would never leave you alone with them, even if theyâre more trustwhorthy than they were before."
Julian sighed. "You know how I feel about you two's... Arrangement, if I can call it that. Just because you 'saved' them from the Devil and his anger doesnât mean they'll necessarily spare you... Or us."
Liamâs smile faltered a little, as his hands continued to card through the feathers. He looked aside briefly, his train of thoughts going over the events of the day. His fingers mindlessly fiddled with the feathers, gently scratching around their base, running over their length and feeling them. If Julian was honest with himself, it caused... Pleasant sensations. He felt soft shivers run down his neck, like a tingle that soothed him. He let out a hum of approval and nestles his face against Liamâs neck. The necromancer raised a curious eyebrow, but then smiled.
"You like it?"
"Mhm..."
Julian felt slightly sheepish. He tried to hide his blushing face by nuzzling further into Liamâs neck. The necromancer only smiled, and adjusted his sitting position.
"Lay back." He softly demanded. Julianâs brows furrowed in slight confusion as he sat in his nest a little straighter, careful to not press on his injured wing. He looked down at Liam, trying to guess what he had in mind...
The necromancer rolled up his sleeves znd started running the fingers of both his hands through the feathers on Julianâs head. The bird manâs eyes widened, and he felt his cheeks heat up. He cleared his throat, trying to keep himself together... But it was obvious Liam did not want him to stay composed. He gently scratched the base of the feathers, from the top of the head to the base of the nape of the neck, separating and caressing single feathers at times, as if he was cleaning them. He scooted closer, almost on his lap, making Julian almost flinch back. But a part of him wanted to give in to these gentle caresses, to...
Wait.
"Are you... Preening my feathers ?"
He suddenly asked, incredulous.
"It seems I am." Liam replied softly, with a hint of mischief. "Do you want me to stop?"
"No-" Julian paused, trying to gather his wits. "No.. I-itâs alright, I like it..." He said quietly, raising his own hand to gently caress Liamâs cheek with the back of his talon. "How do I..."
Liam quickly cut him off. "No no. I want to spoil you." He said, still smiling, as he pressed himself even closer. Julian swallowed thickly, nodding sheepishly and agreeing.
The both got comfortable in the bed-nest and enjoyed each otherâs proximity. Julian slowly allowed himself to be lulled by Liamâs gentle caressing, scratching and preening of his feathers, his wild train of thoughts progressively slowing down. For the first time in a while, he found himself relaxed, not caring about what kind of monster he'd possibly turned into, while Liamâs thoughts didnât linger on the harsh battlefields out there, as he too found himself soothed by the way his fingers felt his manâs skin and feathers. The only thing that mattered was this moment. Despite the branches of the nest, it was soft... Despite Liamâs cold hands, it was warm... Despite the hate and despair, this was love.
After what felt like hours - as if time had meaning in the realms -, they both started to drift off, and eventually, they fell asleep, wrapped up in each otherâs arms.
could you please put the "read more" on your fic posts higher? ppl usually put them right after the description or first paragraph or two. imo they're also more likely to be shared if they're cut earlier
interesting ; but on the main page (like where all the links to the chapters are) or the chapters themselves?
Is it bc they're long chapters sometimes and so it's harder to read? or is it because it's unappealing with so much text?
warnings : discussion of organ trafficking (marked between X so you can skip the part with the details) ; discussion of ongoing investigation, hardships, toxic family relationships, difficult upbringings
I'd rate this chapter and overall fic 16+
Liam finished his cigarette before entering the police station, crushed what was left of it in the ashtray next to the entrance doors, and made his way to one of the meeting rooms. The others were already there, and so he sat down between Valdemar and Julian at the table after briefly greeting them both, glancing at Vulgora in the process. The police officer seemed deep in thought, and they had put on the table a couple of files. The anthropologist guessed that it was the whole of the case so far⊠He frowned. It was little. He bet the autopsy results, in terms of volume, made up half of it.
âSo.â Vulgora began. âI am⊠Not exactly used to this, so Iâm sorry I didnât call for a meeting sooner, but I suppose Iâll have to make this⊠A regular occurrence, since all four of us are working on the case now. And uhm- if you two-â they pointed at Valdemar and Julian â-miss anything because of the hospital or whatever Iâll try my best to keep you updated via the group chat.â Both the medics nodded and Vulgora looked back down at the file. âI thought it would be a good idea to make a little⊠To like say again what we have so far. Alright.â They cleared their throat, opened the file on the table, displaying the various documents that were in it and steeled themselves.
âTwo weeks ago at 10 AM on Tuesday, we discovered Ronald Avertonâs decomposed carcass in the morgue of Vesuviaâs Central Hospital. He was 36 years old, went by âRickâ with his friends, has no criminal record, worked at the Tower concrete factory, has â had? â a wife, Christine Averton, who goes by Chloe with her friends, and a year old son, Elliot. The body had been buried in Eltowen forest for a year before being brought intentionally to the morgue, and it presents traces of stab wounds but the supposed cause of death is strangulation. We know Rick didnât have a good relationship with his family, based on Chloeâs testimony; she said they were quote âoppressiveâ, âaustereâ and their house was like a âtyrantâs kingdomâ. We can conclude from that he had a fairly strict family, and possibly a tense relationship with them, maybe he cut them off, but weâd need to interrogate the parents to get an even clearer picture. He apparently didnât have any violent tendencies and a healthy relationship with his wife. Thereâs a faint chance he drank or smoked on the daily, maybe he would occasionally but I⊠Forgot to ask about that. Ahem. He also had a colleague with whom he was at least acquaintances with nicknamed Big Bill, aka, Emmanuel Biz. He has been working at Tower for five years now, dropped out of college and is a supposed member of a small group which commits small acts of vandalism around. He himself has been charged with a few accounts of vandalism and destruction of property.â
Vulgora took a deep breath, observing their three colleagues. It was obvious Valdemar was very interested in the autopsy reports, and were focusing on those, while Julian was more interested in Emmanuel Bizâs file. Liam, he, already knew everything, since heâd been accompanying Vulgora through the whole investigation so far. He looked up at them and raised an eyebrow: âDid you manage to contact Volta?â
Vulgora nodded, crossing their arms. âI managed to get her on the phone yeah. Sheâs pretty busy, but Iâm sure she can manage getting us a warrant for the interrogations at Tower soon enough. Maybe next week, though.â
Valdemar chimed in, not looking up from the autopsy reports, eyes fixated on the pictures: âBut next week when? More on Monday-Tuesday, Wednesday-Thursday or Friday-Saturday?â
Vulgora blinked, momentarily confused by the question. âUh⊠Knowing what the administration is like, probably towards the very end of the week. It could very well be on Saturday at 11PM for all I know.â
Valdemar let out a small hum of acknowledgment before focusing their attention back on the reports. Vulgora spoke again: âOur biggest element so far is Biz and the gang. I am convinced we need to exploit that trail as much as possible.â
Julian looked up from the files, looking slightly skeptical. âYou really think our perpetrator is part of a small niche gangâŠ?â
Vulgora huffed. âI am not sure, Iâm just saying we should absolutely look into it! Thatâs all we have!â
Julian nodded, thoughtful. He wasnât exactly convinced, but the police officer was right⊠Thatâs all they had for now. But then he had an idea: âWhat about the family though?â
Vulgoraâs nose scrunched. âI mean⊠Of course, weâll have to take care of that too butâŠâ They sighed heavily. âI canât say Iâm looking forward to it â I really donât want to deal with a bunch of stuck up nun convent whatever the fuck-â They pinched the bridge of their nose, briefly closing their eyes.
âI can always have a chat with them.â Valdemar proposed, turning over yet another page of the autopsy report.
âNo no no- Weâll be alright.â Vulgora immediately responded. âItâs not- Iâm sure youâre capable of interrogating them, donât get me wrong, itâs just that administratively speaking if youâre the one collecting testimonies alone then they cannot exactly be considered valid by the court and other officials, because youâre⊠A surgeon, not a police officer. You feel me?â
Valdemar hummed again, visibly not too bothered, but maybe a tad bit disappointed.
âThat makes senseâŠâ Julian agreed âBut they could come with you then, since theyâre⊠Usually good at reading people.â He proposed. He and Vulgora shared a glance â none of them were particularly fond of the idea. A sort of tense silence settled, before Liam broke it:
âSo. This gang⊠Where do we start? Are they settled anywhere, or can we find them around Tower?â
âThe thing with gangs is they can have a lot of territories.â Vulgora replied. âI would be very surprised if this one did, though. They donât look particularly aggressive, or involved in any kind of trafficking, drug dealing, Iâm not even sure theyâre in the uh more problematic streets of Vesuvia.â
âEven if theyâre not directly involved they can participateâŠâ Valdemar commented, still absorbed by the autopsy report. Vulgora raised an eyebrow and a look of realization came across their face.
â⊠Wait but you were involved in trafficking.â
âHm, was I?â Valdemar replied, almost innocently, while Julianâs face lost a bit of color.
âYes, organ trafficking! You must know⊠Someone, something!â Vulgora continued.
Valdemar finally closed the autopsy report as they leaned back in their seat, and started looking at Vulgora, all the while they thought. The police officer sustained their gaze as best as they could but, gods, it was hard. The silence was almost stifling, and the more it went on, the tenser it became, like a rubber bend being endlessly stretched yet on the end of snapping at all times. Everyone was holding their breathâŠ
â⊠I donât know how closely linked it is to our little case, but⊠I might know someone.â
Everyoneâs eyes widened as the surgeon finally replied. A spark of determination went through Vulgoraâs eyes as they listened on, while Julian and Liam could only wait with baited breath.
âThere were a few dropouts at the college I used to teach at. Which was, I suppose, understandable. You donât exactly know whether youâre fit for medicine until youâre elbow deep into it.â They crossed one leg over the other and folded their hands on their lap, crossing their slender fingers together. âOf course Iâve never heard of an âEmmanuel Bizâ in my classes. But there was a boy, Sylvian Chester, who had quit mid-semester. X One random day he came into my office to tell me âthe fridges say hiâ. It was what we called the organ traffickers in the group I was implicated in, the ones who carried the merchandise from the victim to the client. Surgeons â including I â were called âknivesâ, and the should I say supervisors were âcandiesâ, because they usually furnished the drugs we used to neutralize the victims. Xâ
Vulgora took a deep breath to avoid throwing up the contents of their breakfast and Julian looked away, visibly horrified. Liam was⊠Worried, mainly, albeit a lot.
âYou, uhm⊠Donât do that anymore, rightâŠ?â He inquired with an uneasy smile.
âHm? Oh, of course not. It was boring, really. I feel much more fulfilled in my current field of work.â
Everyone seemed to relax a tiny bit at their reply.
âBut my point is: there is a great chance Sylvian was involved in the criminal world at some point, and maybe he knows something.â They finished.
Vulgora inhaled. ââ I should fucking lock you up â Ok. Great. And where can we find him?â
âHeâs a waiter at The Ten of Pentacles. I go there often and have seen him a couple of times.â
Julianâs eyes nearly popped out of his sockets. âThe⊠The Ten of Pentacles? I canât afford to go there more than twice a year!â
âI went there once for a cousinâs wedding and well it wasnât bad.â Vulgora commented with a shrug.
âI donât know what that place isâŠâ Liam said with an awkward smile.
âItâs a restaurant in the Heart District, just two blocks away from the Palace.â Valdemar explained.
âAh yes. I definitely havenât been there before.â
âThatâs not surprising⊠That place is the most expensive Iâve seen.â Julian commented.
âIt is justified. They are worth the price, in my opinion.â Valdemar said, pushing the autopsy report back towards the main pile of files on the table. â⊠Say, I could take you three there.â
They all blinked, looking at the surgeon in confusion.
âThis way, we can question Sylvian discreetly, without a warrant, and we get to eat at a nice placeâŠâ They explained, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
âI mean thatâs not a bad idea, but Valdemar are you- sure??â Vulgora questioned, visibly taken aback by the sudden invitation. âIâm not sure all of us can afford the restaurantâŠâ
âIâll pay then.â They shrugged, leaving everyone⊠Baffled, really. Liam and Julian exchanged more than confused glances.
âI⊠Suppose we can do this, I- ah⊠Thank you.â
Valdemar smiled, satisfied with the response and stood up from their chair, sliding their bag over their shoulder. âPerfect. Iâll see you there at noon, then.â They said, somewhat cheerfully, before promptly making their way out of the meeting room, despite Vulgora calling after them.
The room fell silent once again. Everyone was speechless, trying to comprehend where Valdemarâs sudden invitation to eat in the fanciest restaurant of maybe the continent came from. It was a mystery to all three of them, as they exchanged glances, desperately trying to find a miracle answer in each otherâs eyes.
ââŠWeeell⊠Itâs only 10AM, so I suppose we have a bit of time to get readyâŠâ Julian commented, and Vulgora and Liam hummed in agreement, standing up to leave the room themselves, trying to process the confusion this sudden initiative on Valdemarâs part had triggered amongst them all.
âDo you think this will do?â Julian asked Liam, adjusting his red tie. Heâd asked the anthropologist to help him out a little bit, since he wasnât used to making himself more than decent looking, nor was he used to going to fancy places to eatâŠ
âYeah, just close thatâŠâ Liam said, buttoning the doctorâs sleeves. Julian tried to ignore the little sparks of warm electricity that coursed through his chest and hands every time Liamâs fingers accidentally brushed against his own. âShould be good⊠Do you have any, uhm, I donât know, cologne?â
Julian nodded. âI should have that somewhere in the bathroom, Iâll be right back.â
Liam nodded as he focused on his own outfit. He sighed as he saw the little folds in his tuxedo; he didnât have an iron, therefore that thing had probably spent its whole life at the back of the closet, seeing the light of day maybe once every few years. He felt self conscious, but he didnât exactly have anything else. He wasnât completely tasteless in terms of fashion, but fancy clothes werenât something he had in his closet⊠He sighed as he tried to flatten his tuxedo by hand, adjusted his belt and turtleneck and gave himself a once over. He had gone for an all black look, but it could all definitely use some accessories. His golden earrings looked fine, but he couldnât help but feel it was missing something, like rings, or a watch. And of course, he had none of those. Sure, Julian had some, but they werenât golden, and wouldnât match. What about necklaces? No, that wouldnât work either. He snapped his fingers as he got an idea, and turned around, reaching for the long leather coat heâd brought, just in case. It could very well replace his tuxedo. Yeah! He smiled to himself as he slipped it on. Much better⊠He glanced at Julian as he came out of the bathroom, smiling slightly. He looked really handsome: his black suit was nicely adorned with golden buttons, and his red, slightly unbuttoned shirt gave the usually formal outfit a sort of openness, as if someone had opened the window to let in some fresh summer morning air. He couldnât help his gaze from lingering on the other manâs exposed neck, looking at how the lines of his sternocleidomastoid muscles joined his collarbones, and how his Adamâs apple bobbed when he started speaking: âOk! I think Iâm ready. Is there anything you uhm⊠Need? A shirt, or a ring, orâŠâ
Liam shook his head with a smile. âNo, thank you. Iâll be alright for tonight.â
Julian nodded, and took a deep breath. âWell! I suppose the only thing left to do is⊠Get going.â He smiled at Liam, and briefly looked at him. He loved the way the turtleneck wrapped around his neck and clung to his chest, as if it was giving him a gentle hug, a gentle caress⊠He could almost feel his thumbs softly trace the edge of his jaw, before he looked back into his eyes for a brief moment. His cheeks reddened and he cleared his throat; âDo uh you uh have everything?â
Liam nodded. âYeah, Iâm all good⊠Letâs go.â He smiled up at Julian, and both of them exited the building.
Julian parked almost right next to the restaurant, and he and Liam both hesitantly walked closer. They could already tell by the baroque facade that this place was from a world completely different from their own. Women in classy velvet cocktail dresses and men in custom-tailored Italian suits walked in and out of the building, the great double doors being opened for them by a pair of men who were there for that specific purpose. These people exuded wealth from their cars to their laughs, and Liam doesnât recall feeling more out of place somewhere than in this exact moment. He and Julian nervously followed another couple of clients in the restaurant, and they both found their breaths hitching in their throats as the placeâs grandiose decor was revealed to them. The ceiling was high, supported by Greek columns, and from it hung four crystal chandeliers which illuminated the place thanks to maybe a good few hundreds of candles. The walls were sparsely decorated, surprisingly enough, although a discreet mural followed the contours of the main hall. It represented a stream of vines, the green leafy lines guiding the guestsâ gaze all around, periodically bringing their attention to a dove couple nestled in a tree or a flock of barn swallows that flew high into the twilight sky in a flurry of soft colors, all of it limited to a somewhat narrow frame compared to the sheer size of the hall â but itâs as if it participated in a perfect equilibrium between the sobriety of the monochromatic mahogany walls and the artistic sensitivity of romantic paintings. Of course, all of it was a very bold decorative choice, yet whoever was responsible for it had somehow made it so it didnât feel like a patchwork, and instead it looked like an intricate tapestry of different epochsâ architectural signs of wealth.
Julian and Liam swallowed nervously as they made their way further inside. Couches were lined against the walls, accompanied by various rectangular tables, the ones around the center of the hall being circular. The wooden oak and mahogany floor presented discreet [Touraine] patterns, the whole carefully glazed. Their steps would resonate in the hall if it werenât for the sound of music and chatter covering them. They advanced, but didnât dare to walk much further than the reception, and even then, they didnât exactly know what to say to the man behind the marble counter, who had apparently addressed them. Liam and Julian looked at each other awkwardly, trying to stammer a response, when a familiar voice rang just behind them.
âTheyâre with me, Stephan.â Valdemar said â almost cheerfully â as they walked up behind the pair and placed a hand on each of their shoulders, making Julian visibly tense up. Vulgora was there as well, coming to stand beside the three of them. The receptionist smiled. âAh, so a table for four, yes?â He inquired, which was confirmed by an affirmative hum from Valdemar. âThereâs the booth at the end of the hall which is unoccupied. Please, follow me.â He continued with a smile, writing something down briefly before guiding the group towards said booth. âWho are these gentlemen, if I may ask?â The receptionist couldnât help but inquire, looking back towards Valdemar briefly. âLong lost cousins.â They replied with a smile. The others looked briefly confused but when they noticed the receptionist smiling from ear to ear, they decided it was best to play along. âReally? That is wonderful! Here, you all get comfortable, Iâll bring in the menus. Ah- Same as usual for the wine?â
âPlease.â Valdemar confirmed, nodding. âThank you Stephan.â
âItâs always a pleasure!â The receptionist replied, before going off to another room behind the counter, back towards the entrance â it looked to be so far away from their booth â.
The group settled down, taking off coats and bags and hanging them to the neatly placed coat hanger right in the corner of the wall. Vulgora had decided to recycle the suit theyâd worn for their dinner with Vultur, deeming the red suit and let down hair appropriate enough for the occasion. Valdemar, on their part, was wearing a V cut white button down, the light of the tableâs candles dancing on the silky material. The shirt was neatly tucked in a pair of black, high waisted straight pants and the sleeves were rolled up to their elbows. Under their Plender gap rested the pendant of a gold necklace, the little ruby hugged by a thin frame of gold which gave it the shape of a small beetle. As they sat down, Liam briefly caught a whiff of their perfume as well, the scent reminding him of a mix of flower and spice, yet they had managed to make it very discreet. His jaw was hanging slightly slack as he looked at them and how theyâd so effortlessly made themselves the very picture of elegance and refinement.
â⊠Val?â He inquired, to get their attention.
âHm?â
â⊠How are we supposed to look good next to you?â
They blinked, seemingly confused by his sudden question. They briefly looked between the others and let out a little âoh!â and a chuckle when it clicked.
âPlease, I barely made any efforts.â They replied, adjusting their sleeve a little bit, earning themselves a deadpan and unconvinced look from Vulgora. Even Julian, who probably feared them the most here, had to recognize their taste in fashion.
âIf this is what you look like when âbarely making any effortsâ I canât even imagine what you look like when you do make efforts.â Liam commented, still trying to come down from his dumbfounded state.
âOh quit the flattery, will you?â They replied, amused, as they took the menu Stephan had come back to give them and the others.
Once the receptionist left for good, Vulgora couldnât help but inquire: âLong lost cousinsâŠ?â
âYes,â Valdemar replied, opening the menu. âHe wouldnât have believed me if I said you were friends.â
Everyone looked a little taken aback. It was⊠Almost sad. But no one commented on it.
The three others instead started looking at the menu quietly, and Julian couldnât help but feel slightly awkward at the silence that had settled despite the soft background music of the restaurant. He started wondering what he could say or do to break said silence, but his mind was running short on ideas. He didnât exactly know of a way to have a normal conversation with Valdemar⊠Fortunately for him, Liam spoke up, and so his shoulders relaxed slightly: âSo this⊠Sylvian. You said he was a student of yours. That means you were a college professor at some point?â
âI was.â Valdemar confirmed, not looking up from the menu. âI even taught your friend Julian here for a couple of years.â
Liamâs eyes widened and turned to the other doctor. âReally?â
Julian nodded, with a sigh. âYes, they⊠Were my college professor for about half of my degree.â
âHow was it?â Liam inquired, seemingly very interested.
âYes, how was it Julian?â Valdemar said, briefly glancing up from their menu with a mischievous smirk.
Julian greeted his teeth. âOh, well⊠It was⊠Something alright.â He paused and cleared his throat. âI canât deny they were a good professor but I can strongly disagree with their teaching methods.â
Valdemar chuckled. âYes, administration did end up asking me not to bring real brains for the lectures at some point⊠I always thought it was best to work with the real thing as soon as possible, but alas.â They shrugged, while Julian gave an awkward chuckle.
âYes⊠Real brains⊠I donât even want to think of where you got your hands on themâŠâ
Valdemar chuckled once more before surprisingly enough Vulgora chimed in: âWere you in any sports team?â They asked the hematologist, curious.
Julian shook his head. âNo, I didnât exactly have time for that. Iâd occasionally go for a jog, but nothing more than that.â
Vulgora rolled their eyes in response, slightly disappointed, while Valdemar shot him a skeptical â and almost disapproving â glance. âYes, unless sleeping around does count as a sport, Mr. 69.â
Julianâs cheeks suddenly flushed bright red and he stammered: âH-Hey!! Thatâs none of your business!â
âIt is not, and I had already heard more than I wouldâve liked back then.â Valdemar grumbled, looking back at the menu. Vulgora let out a bark of laughter while Liam looked back at Julian, a hint of mischief in his eyes.
âHa! So you werenât completely physically inactive, were you?â The police officer teased, a wide grin on their face. âShit, you mightâve not been too bad either, they gave you a nickname and all!â
Julian was stuttering, trying to justify himself, while Liam quietly laughed at the othersâ antics.
âGods, there was even a rumor at some point heâd slept with me too.â Valdemar mumbled, visible disgust on their face. âIâm shuddering just thinking about it.â
âI would rather kill myself-â Julian said, visibly horrified.
âMe too.â The surgeon replied, their nose scrunched up.
âI donât really know how you dealt with that rumor but it really disappeared in a snap of fingers â thank The Arcana â.â
âOh well, Iâd gathered the various culprits in my office, explained in details why this rumor was wrong and forced them to watch me dissect a brain. That certainly shut their mouths.â
âIâm⊠Not surprised.â Julian said with an awkward chuckle.
âHave you gentlemen chosen what you would like to eat?â The waitress that had approached their table suddenly said, putting an end to the subject of the conversation.
After everybody ordered, Valdemar briefly caught her attention: âDo you know if Sylvian is working today?â They asked, and the waitress nodded.
âHe is.â She replied, smiling politely.
âWonderful â do you think you could go get him for me please?â Valdemar requested, a slight, polite smile on their face.
âCertainly, but maybe heâll be available later, weâve got a bit more clients than usual todayâŠâ she replied, apologetic.
âItâs alright, just send him when heâs done.â
The waitress nodded and walked away, going to the kitchens to give the cooks their tableâs order.
Vulgora raised an eyebrow. âIt looks like youâre friends with all the staffâŠâ
Valdemar shrugged. âAs I said this morning, I come here often. I suppose I got familiar with the place, yes.â
âYou come here with who, if I may ask?â Liam chimed in, curious.
âAlone.â they replied, shrugging.
âReally? Not even with family?â he inquired, curious.
âFamily? Oh please. I cut them off a while ago.â
âReally? Oh gods, I didnât know, Iâm sorryâŠâ
They waved their hand dismissively âNothing to be sorry about.â
Julian was surprised as well. âAnd why did you cut them off? You donât strike me as the type to be petty, so I assume itâs pretty seriousâŠâ
âStrange wording on your part, but youâre right.â Julian cleared his throat and briefly looked away, embarrassed, but they continued. âWhen I graduated high school and started looking for medical schools, they started acting⊠Weird, really. But even more so after my 18th birthday.â They shook their head, as if they were annoyed. âThen they started talking about marriage⊠Can you believe that? My mother and aunts in particular. It was the main talking point of every single family reunion â Valdemar, are you seeing anyone? Valdemar, what do you think of ârandom guy I had never seen beforeâ and so on.â
Liamâs face scrunched slightly. âThat sounds⊠Particularly unpleasant.â
âOh it was.â Valdemar confirmed. They had everyoneâs attention, since it was⊠Well, one of the rare instances where they talked about something else other than whatever skull surgery theyâd performed the other day. âThey became insistent, to the point theyâd bring in people and present them to me, saying they were suitable spouses. It was⊠Annoying, quite frankly. Iâve never had any interest in romance, much less marriage, and so I ended up telling them. I had been patient enough. I wanted to focus on my carrier, not⊠Whatever that was.â A waiter came by and poured them a glass of the wine theyâd ordered. They murmured a little âthank youâ before taking a sip. âNaturally, they were a little frustrated, and the more I refused their propositions and brushed off their remarks, the more they started to leave me alone. That was a relief, for a while, all up until my maybe⊠Third year of medical school. Thatâs when I had come out of the closet to them â I remember distinctly, it was the winter solstice â and they⊠Did not appreciate it.â They chuckled and took another sip of wine. Everyone was waiting for what was next with baited breath. âThey went on to say if I didnât get married in two years they would stop funding my studies. Guess what happened.â
âThey cut you off?â Julian said, visibly surprised. âIâd always thought youâd paid for everything yourself.â Valdemar shook their head.
âNo, at least not while I was still in school. Sure, I was paying for my books and tools, the material and everything but the tuition fees were paid by my family. And well, when two years later I was still not married they cut everything off. I had a little bit of money saved up but I needed to find a solution quickly. Hence the⊠Ah, trafficking business.â
Vulgoraâs jaw was hanging slack. â⊠Oh wow. I never thought you wouldâve done that out of necessity.â
âI wouldâve never imagined it either.â They chuckled.
âI was persuaded you were doing it out of⊠Passion.â The police officer said, with a hint of disgust.
âI initially was, but well, it became boring quite quickly. It took you guys a while to find out too.â They added with a chuckle, making Vulgora huff.
âYeah? So what if youâd stopped by the time we caught you? At least we did.â
âAt least you did, I supposeâŠâ They said, smugly sipping their wine.
âItâs still sad you had to go to such extremes to get your degreeâŠâ Liam commented.
âOh but I still chose to go to such extremes.â They replied, smiling, making Julian shudder slightly. âSo yes, thatâs the whole story, and why I donât talk to my family anymore.â
âWell that was certainly somethingâŠâ Liam said, seemingly in awe at their story.
As Valdemar sipped their wine some more, the brief silence that followed their sudden storytelling made them realize just what theyâd revealed. They felt their cheeks heat up and discreetly looked off to the side to hide it, their heart looping in their chest with embarrassment. Gods, what had come over them?? They had barely been around these people for more than a few days and they were already laying on the table important bits of their life to them just like that! They usually were a fairly private person⊠They decided it was probably because they hadnât had a casual conversation in a while, and reminded themselves to make sure this didnât happen again. Meanwhile, Vulgora let their eyes drift and look at the restaurantâs interior. They werenât really impressed. The place was nice, sure, but they were always sort of immune to displays of wealth like these. The mural was interesting, though. They liked the way the barn swallows were painted. They didnât even notice the way the silence settled amidst them four until they looked back at Julian and Liam, who were looking at them expectantly. They raised a questioning eyebrow and Liam spoke up: âI just thought you were going to say something.â
âOh- uh⊠No, I wasnât.â They paused, and seeing how the silence uncomfortably stretched, they felt obligated to say something. âI uh I mean uh-â They cleared their throat and sat a little straighter in their chair. âValdemar and Julian went to med school, but⊠What about you, Liam? Where did you go?â They asked, hoping to strike conversation and make things less awkward.
âMe? Ah well itâs a⊠Complicated story. I didnât exactly study for my job per se, I was actually trained on the field â if I can say that.â Liam replied, smiling sheepishly.
Vulgora raised an eyebrow, intrigued, and Valdemar was secretly thankful for the change of topic. âOh yeah? So you didnât go to⊠Uh corpse lover school or whatever itâs called?â The police officer asked, making Liam roll his eyes.
âNo, I didnât go to bone freak school.â He replied with a chuckle.
âAh you saw that-â Vulgora replied, letting out a chuckle themselves.
âI did. Anyways, no, I didnât go to a specialized school⊠The thing is, uhm, I arrived to Vesuvia during a very peculiar time, both for me and the city actually.â Liam paused, trying to find his words. âIt was around that time the Flooded District got flooded again because of the heavy rains, and like very old corpses were floating back to the surface-â
âOuch, yeah, I remember thatâŠâ Vulogra said, cringing slightly.
âEveryone was panicking, it was a whole mess.â Julian agreed, nodding.
âI know right? And well the police was in need of some help, to like identify the bodies because they didnât have enough scientist for it. And so since I had just arrived and didnât have a job or an apartment yet I volunteered, they took me in and trained me and thatâs how I ended up a professional forensic anthropologist.â He continued, smiling.
âThatâs nice, but why didnât you have a job or apartment? Did you decide to come to Vesuvia on a âcoup de tĂȘteâ?â Valdemar inquired, invested in the conversation.
âWell, technically⊠Yes. Yes I did. I uh⊠Had problems back home.â Liam replied, slightly uneasy.
âProblems?â
âYes I â well. Back in my country the death penalty is still a thing. And because of a terrible misunderstanding, I nearly got sentenced to death so I⊠Even after the court realized I was innocent and literally had nothing to do with what had happened, you know, I thought it was a good idea to leave, actually.â
Julianâs jaw dropped and well generally everyoneâs eyes widened a bit.
âThat⊠Was a wise decision, yes.â Valdemar commented, mildly shocked.
â...Alright, well might as well all trauma dump from the get go!â Vulgora said, smiling, hoping to lighten the atmosphere. âIâll go next. Personally, I uhâŠâ They paused, their cheeks reddening slightly. Maybe they had spoken up a little too fast⊠But there was no going back now. They cleared their throat and got a hold of themselves. âWell. Liam knows a little bit already, but⊠I grew up in the suburbs with my mom, my dad was a soldier and he died on the battlefield⊠uhm⊠I donât have any known living relatives and- and I tried joining the army, but I had a hard time getting along with the regiment and didnât⊠Obey my superiors much either so eventually I was just. Kicked out.â They paused, clearing their throat. âBut after a few years, the Police of Vesuvia was looking for new police officer so I joined and uh I am now where I am.â They stopped there, their cheeks flushing slightly red in embarrassment. They and Valdemar were usually pretty private persons, so talking about their stories like that â even if it wasnât in overwhelming detail â was unusual. Liam smiled at them.
âWell, that sounds like quite the upbringing⊠What about you, Julian?â
Vulgora shifted their attention to the hematologist, glad that they werenât questioned further about their past. They could feel Valdemarâs eyes lingering on them for a while before turning to Julian. The doctor chuckled and leaned back in his chair.
âWell. It might not be as impressive as your stories but⊠I and Pasha â my sister â personally grew up with our adoptive grandma Mazelinka. Uhm when I was about thirty I was wrongly accused of murder back in Nevivon, so I too fled to Vesuvia to be safe,â he glanced at Liam, now noticing the similarities between their respective stories. He gave him a brief smile before continuing: âand back there I was a doctor in the army. Uhm so basically I was accused of purposefully letting a colonel die which was⊠Never the case, I can assure you. And so when I arrived in Vesuvia with Mazelinka and Pasha I tried to find work, but I just ended up going to college, you know, medical school and began â and finished â my hematology studies there. Eventually the charges against me back in Nevivon were dropped, but I liked it so much here in Vesuvia I didnât want to go back.â He stopped there, as the others nodded and mumbled between themselves.
When the food was brought to their table the conversation came back to lighter topics such as work and daily life. Liam was itching to talk about the investigation, but he knew that it wasnât safe to do in public. He thought about it while quietly chewing â and savoring â his salmon tartare, up until another face came up to the table. Valdemar let out a little âah!â and turned to look at the waiter that had just approached.
âSylvian.â They greeted, politely yet somewhat warmly.
âValdemar. You asked for me?â The waiter responded, nodding quietly.
âYes, well, you know, I just wanted to know how my student was doing. It has been a while after all.â
Sylvian chuckled âIt has⊠Well, life has been good recently, I⊠I left that group.â
âThat is good for you.â Valdemar approved, even though to Vulgora, who knew them better than the rest of the group, it sounded almost like fake concern, as if they were âinterestedâ in what was said to them only out of necessity.
âBut temporarily, I joined another one⊠They were all really nice, but I realized if I wanted to get my life back together Iâd have to leave them too.â
âAnother group? Which one?â Valdemar inquired, curious and falsely concerned.
âWell they donât exactly have a name but they have a⊠Small territory, I think I can say that, around the South End and Red Street. They also go around the Tower factory sometimes, so I would just advise you to⊠Avoid those places when you can.â Sylvian smiled slightly.
âThat I will remember.â Valdemar replied with a smile of their own.
The conversation went on for a little while, but Valdemar wasnât exactly paying attention anymore. Vulgora was discreetly typing down in their notes app what theyâd just heard, Liam was focused on finishing his plate and he and Julian seemed to be forming plans and theories about what would come nextâŠ
When Sylvian left, Valdemar turned their attention back to the group. They raised their glass of wine, a small, satisfied smile on their face. âThere you have it.â
Liam smiled while Vulgora grumbled. âWell that was easier than I was expectingâŠâ They commented, putting their phone back in their pocket. Valdemar raised an eyebrow, visibly in the mood for tease.
âA âthank youâ surely wouldnât be the death of youâŠâ
Vulgora groaned. âPlease, you did what you were supposed to. Youâre working on this case like everyone else.â
ââThank you Valdemar for giving us new, crucial information via your personal sources~ââ
Vulgora sighed heavily, looking back at them. Oh they didnât want to give them what they wanted, they really didnât- â⊠Thank you.â They mumbled, rolling their eyes, barely audible.
âYouâre very welcome.â Valdemar replied smugly, putting down their glass of wine. âDessert?â
A little while after the group finished all their plates, they decided it was time to part ways. Liam and Julian expressed concerns about paying their parts of the meal, seeing how expensive it was, but Valdemar waved it off with a simple âIâll pay.â The two men tried to negotiate, to split the bill maybe but Valdemar insisted on paying for everyone. Eventually the others gave up trying to argue and let them payâŠ
Liam closed the door of his apartment and let out a heavy sigh, the events of this early afternoon replaying endlessly in his mind. It had been⊠A long time, since heâd gone out with friends. Or, at least, what felt like friends⊠He tossed his bag on the floor and went to lay down in bed, contemplating the ceiling for a good hour, the familiar obscurity of his bedroom enveloping him softly despite the fact it was very much daytime. Thatâs when he noticed it had been a while since heâd opened his blindsâŠ
Author's note: long ass chapter... BUT I LOVED WRITING IT WREEEE
I hope you still love how the story is going !! :D I definitely have some fun things planned ahead ehheheeh
There's no greater heartbreak for an anatomy enjoyer romantic than to learn there is no other name for the pretty neck lines that start from jaw to collarbones than the sternocleidomastoid muscles...
What do you mean there isnât a pretty literary name for those
