two's company

stevie | 20 | trans | she/her probably more tired than you [mamono island]

[withhope]

im a big fan of rain and girls

[tianween]

((harksichord)) “Oh dear, do you need help?”

Okay, this island’s library was cool as shit. It was probably all the very inhuman tomes stacked in a magicked back room that really made it, but it was super cool nonetheless! So many years of information that he could shove inside his already bulging brain! Hella cool, right? He always left the building with a stack of books he could barely carry, a dollar store plastic rain poncho draped over them for protection. Gotta be nice to the books! 

Today’s pile was especially high. Benji found himself not really seeing what was in front of him, but just believing in himself and his knowledge of how to get home, which was. Not exactly working. He just ran into a wall. Shit, man. As he was shaking off that little jolt back to reality and kinda hoping no one saw him do it, a voice cut through the fog. Aw, man, that was embarrassing… He turned his head anyway, books still pushed against the wall with his torso and legs. 

“Hey, yeah, that’d be great! Thanks, dude.”

[tianween]

The quips made him laugh, a wholly relatable feel there. Loans really, truly sucked. Like, sucked eggs. Raw eggs. “Shit, dude, me too. Like, one of my moms is a lawyer and stuff, but that don’t mean shit to colleges! Like, I’m gonna be paying loans until I really do die. Of course the only places with good astro departments gotta be big ol’ state schools and shit. Man…” Benji jumped a little in place, trying to readjust his stack hands-free. “I like learning and stuff, y’know? Like, most of these are all sciencey and shit. But school sucks! Gotta listen to the man and shit. I think they’re all just like, trying to stomp out the good stuff inside your brain, make a whole buncha already living brain-clones. Teachin’ everyone the same thing, y’know? Making kids who’re different like, not be different. It’s basically proven that curriculum only serves to make people think the same way. ‘Sposed to be for like, the post-war intellectual wastelands! We’re all sheep to the government!”

Shock crossed his face as this girl - Stevie, apparently - showed off the tiny scar. “Oh, shit, really! Man, that’s kinda fucked up. Hey, buddy!” This was directed to the pole itself, a stubborn set to his brow. “That’s fucked up, dude! Why’d y’do that to this chick, huh?” He paused for a moment, as if waiting for a reply, and sighed. “Shit, guess I gotta rescind that best man thing. ‘S’alright. I’m sure I’ll make new friends by the time I get married or whatever. Man, I can’t even imagine getting married. You ever thought about marriage? That’s some shit.” His nose twitched to the idea - he was, like, basically a kid still! Was that even legal? The nice girl’s offer brightened him right back up though, smiling again in pre-thanks. “Oh, well, y’know. Home, I guess. Little early maybe for pizza time…” Okay, it was early afternoon, but Moonpies was a nighttime haunt. Plus, he didn’t really wanna take all these books into that grease trap… Benji squinted up at the sky, trying to see the sun through the clouds and loosely determine the time. Not that he was successful in this endeavor, but at least he tried! “I’m Benji, by the way. I’d, like, shake your hand or something, but I kinda gotta carry all these books. You too, now, huh! Bad plan there, the hands thing. Try that shit later.”

[harksichord-blog]

The girl gave a crooked smile, absently noting that her arms were beginning to ache from the weight of the stack of books she was cradling. It was an easy fix - a gentle nudge stirred the demon awake, cold strength pooling into her arms and making the books feel almost weightless. It whispered that she was growing lazy but she ignored it, head cocked as she listened to the boy. “Oh, y-you’re in the, um, the sciences? I d-didn’t think that the island had the, um, resources for lab work. S-sometimes they can barely muster, uh, Sharpies.” Ruefully, she shook her head and heaved a wistful sigh, before smiling down at him. “Either way, I think y-you’re, um, fairly safe from sheeple here - what w-would the singular of sheeple be, do you think? Sherson doesn’t sound quite right.” Her dark brows drew together in thought for a second. Quite the conundrum. Perhaps she’d email her professor once she was back at home - he’d always been rather patient with her rare tangents. 

“Marriage? Yeugh.” Stevie’s nose wrinkled and she shook her head, looking down at her feet. It was her inner millennial - as opposed to her inner millennium-old-demon - that reacted with distaste, really. Anyone who had grown up with stereotypical sitcom-esque parents had the same disregard for marriage, she was sure - shotgun weddings, jokes about balls and chains, her mother upstairs while her father’s friends watched football in the living room. It was nothing abusive, nothing that was uncommon, but it was also nothing that held any appeal to Stevie. In her opinion, a bond between lovers would be better proven by perhaps buying a cat together, or a couch - the important things. “I’ll be in my grave before I think I’m old enough to get married. I think it’s rather too adult, don’t you?” Lips pressed together in thought, she looked up at the murky sky for a moment before giving a huffed laugh. Ah, Moonpies - every island student’s favourite haunt. The boxes seemed to find themselves everywhere - the library, the Kahi, the park, always a clear sign that 20-somethings had been gathering. Stevie was fairly certain her own bin had several folded pizza boxes jammed in amongst the coffee filters and scrumpled post-its. “Ah, the thought of the m-metaphorical handshake is enough for m-me, thank you. I, um, I-I’m Stevie - oh, but I think I, um, already mentioned that.” She gave a shrug, as best as she could. “I hope you’ll r-remember it without the handshake.”

[adayinthelesbianlife-deactivate]

New York, 1992

[f-ether]

still applicable

[reallyreallyreallytrying]

[me drawing 7s with a little line through them to impress girls in the library]: hmm. what? yes, i always draw 7s like this. it’s normal for me.

[harksichord-blog]

“Are you dead?” -Dagmar

Wincing and sitting up, Stevie clutched her pounding head and peered up at the girl stood beside her. Shit. She rubbed her eyes, digging her knuckles in before dragging her hand down her face and groaning. Where the hell was she? “No, n-not dead, unfortunately.” The girl tucked her long legs beneath her, unfolding to her full height and stretching with a number of unpleasant sounding clicks and pops.

Finally on her feet again, she looked around and tried to make sense of what on earth was going on. The last thing she remembered was setting aside her laptop and finding a blanket to hunker down for a nap and then suddenly - well, someone had swapped her couch for a bench, and her living room for the bloody park. Bloody demons. Beginning to grow red in the face and hoping this would be easy to explain away, she said lightly, “Um, you don’t h-have to worry…”

[dagmariusdrummeren-blog]

In an attempt to not make a face at all the noises, Dagmar ran her hand through her mess of dark hair to try to distract herself as Stevie finally stood up. She didn’t know the lanky girl too well but she had definitely seen them around the island often enough to know that they had a weird habit of popping up in weird places at weird hours. Dagmar had mused a few times that it was probably something paranormal but Stevie was just too normal. 

“I mean normally I wouldn’t worry but when you find some person sprawled out on a bench on cloudy day close to six am you just have to wonder what’s up,” Dagmar explained with wide shrugging gesture. “After all, it’d suck if I had never come along and you got rained on. It is Mamono we’re talking about here.”

[harksichord-blog]

Rolling her shoulders and rubbing at the corner of her mouth absently, Stevie nodded and squinted at the girl through sleep-clouded eyes. She’d definitely seen her before, around town and at the little get-togethers she used to go to. A little loud and scrappy for her to have ever approached her to talk - she preferred her friends a little quieter - but not someone she’d ever earmarked to be avoided. “I, um, I d-doubt it’s the strangest thing you’ve ever s-seen on the island... I mean, if it is then, um, maybe the island’s b-been holding back on you.” 

She couldn’t help but laugh at the joke about the weather - no matter what, she could always rely on a Mamonian to bring the conversation around to the bloody rain. “Next time I, um, d-decide to nap al fresco, I’ll d-definitely bring a brolly, d-don’t worry...” Her eyes stayed bright with mirth and she tilted her head, looking the other woman up and down before remarking, “D-did you, um, have a plan in case it rained..? Only I th-think we’re, um, both equally at risk of getting wet, d-don’t you?”

[nicolerichiecirca2003]

listen…i literally dream of being a woman with a skin care routine, that smells good always and eats vegetables but i am a swamp demon and i’m doing what i can with that 

[ghostlywriterr]

[harksichord-blog]

me, dying and going to the underworld: hey hades can i pet your dog

[hollandcalli-blog]

odorous

It caught his attention in the same way a roll of thunder announced a storm’s arrival– a skipped heartbeat, a quick recalculation of flight patterns, and then a sudden swerve in a new direction were his immediate reactions.

However, he wasn’t flying.

No, Holland was just shopping in the general store with a basket tucked into his elbow. The stacks of printer paper and packs of pens slid to the side of said basket as he turned, still sniffing at whatever was permeating the air. It was subtle enough that it was unlikely anyone with a normal nose would even notice it; he swiped his tongue along his lips to taste the air. He mentally recoiled while his face appeared mildly peeved. Death. It smelled like death.

His glasses slipped down onto the bridge of his nose from where they had been previously propped on the crown of his head when he turned his head once more in the opposite direction. Eyes settled on the only other person in the aisle: a girl about the same height as himself who was currently busying herself by looking at…notebooks? Sticky notes? He couldn’t tell. Either way, Holland was transfixed: she was alive, and yet she was not. She smelled of death but her life force was still strong enough to tickle his senses into a confused cycle of “is she prey” or “is she the predator”. That alone was enough to put him on edge. However…she looked familiar. Not uncommon on such a small island, but familiar enough that they probably existed in the same social circles– well, when he wasn’t holed up by himself, that is. He continued to stare, unsure what to do, until he finally blurted out, “When was the last time you showered?” And immediately flushed in regret and humiliation.

[harksichord-blog]

Stationery was, as far as Stevie was concerned, more precious than life itself in the lead up to yet another round of brain-numbing exams. She delighted in taking the cellophane off of new packs of fineliners, and her dining room table was currently piled with organised stacks of colour-coordinated flashcards that she’d spent hours poring over. So it was of little surprise that the bloody demon had decided to delve into her stationery stash when it got bored one night, and of even less surprise that the discovery of her entire living room covered in sticky notes had put Stevie in a less-than-excellent mood. Of course, being riled up only served to stir the murky waters of the demon, so she’d decided to take a walk to replace her lost goods. 

Aside from the name, which evoked some image of the Wild West, the general store was a good place to people-watch, and she’d been pleased to see that the sticky notes she wanted were in the same aisle as that tall witch’s boyfriend... He had a country name, she thought - the demon suggested Timbuktu with a grin that made Stevie’s cheeks hurt, and the girl pulled her face into a remonstrative scowl as she began to toss sticky notes into her basket. Bloody demons. So childish. The little bastard continued to chitter in her ears, and the host was so intently focussed on her task that it took her a few seconds to realise it had fallen silent, pressed against the side of her skull like a child with its nose pressed to a window. Just as she was about to turn around, a question was spilled out into the silence of the aisle, and she froze. A cold chill prickled down her spine, quickly chased away by the hot flush of embarrassment - her cheeks tingled with heat as she turned to face the asker, feet fidgeting on the tiled floor. “Th-that’s not, um, a particularly polite thing to ask someone, you know. I could ask you the s-same thing, um, but my m-mother raised me to hold my tongue.” Her free hand drummed a jittery beat on her thigh as she looked the man up and down, a little fretful - he had to be a non-human, surely. It was rare for a human to be so welcome in circles such as the ones he moved in - the exception being that loud-mouthed human who was overly familiar, of course. “Might I ask what the, ah, o-offensive smell is, sir?”

[nitrons]

[androidboy]

[harksichord-blog]

@shuowang

[tianween]

((harksichord)) “Oh dear, do you need help?”

Okay, this island’s library was cool as shit. It was probably all the very inhuman tomes stacked in a magicked back room that really made it, but it was super cool nonetheless! So many years of information that he could shove inside his already bulging brain! Hella cool, right? He always left the building with a stack of books he could barely carry, a dollar store plastic rain poncho draped over them for protection. Gotta be nice to the books! 

Today’s pile was especially high. Benji found himself not really seeing what was in front of him, but just believing in himself and his knowledge of how to get home, which was. Not exactly working. He just ran into a wall. Shit, man. As he was shaking off that little jolt back to reality and kinda hoping no one saw him do it, a voice cut through the fog. Aw, man, that was embarrassing… He turned his head anyway, books still pushed against the wall with his torso and legs. 

“Hey, yeah, that’d be great! Thanks, dude.”

[tianween]

Aw, hell, this girl was laughing. Laughing! Who laughed at a dude in need? That shit was just cruel. Still, he was very grateful for the help, hopping in place as he readjusted to the weight. Holy shit, he could see! Well, as best as he could without his glasses, which were very unhelpfully tucked into his shirt collar. Man… He should really think about wearing those. The bunny looked down at his stack, wrinkling his nose at the dusty old tome on top. Huh. He didn’t actually remember picking that one up… Spooky shit.

Oh, man, this chick had a cool accent! And words, too. Trolleys. What’s up with that? “Yeah, yeah, I know! I’ll read all these in like, a week, though. I find it more productive to just take a whole bunch! Like, I’d hit the library like sixty times a week if I just took one or two! I gotta lotta readin’ and shit to do, y’know? Studying and all that. Well… Nah, okay, most of these are just for shits. Gotta have hobbies, right? School takes the life right outta my body. Zoom, there it goes, off to the sky.” Benji grinned his signature toothy grin, much more visible without a wall of bound paper in front of his face. “Me and the posts are already, like, best buds. Hang out on the weekends, I met all their moms. That one over there-” He cocked his head towards an old post about 5 feet from them - “it’s gonna be the best man at my wedding. Real tender stuff, right?”

[harksichord-blog]

Oh, he was a student! Sizing him up anew, Stevie decided that maybe he wasn’t as young as she’d first thought. It was the hair that had done it, she thought, and the height - being taller than everyone else always seemed to make them seem - ah, well, smaller. Although... oh dear, maybe he was a pupil up at the Academy - Americans always seemed to phrase things differently! With a rueful half-smile, she nodded, “Oh, I know the feeling! I, um, y’know, kissed goodbye to my s-spirit when the first student loan came through. S-some banker back home probably, uh, has it mounted on a plaque somewhere. Stevie Harker, 1996-2014.” Hefting the books into the crook of her arm, she reached out with her other hand as though picturing this in front of her. “I w-wouldn’t be surprised if, um, education w-was just a p-ploy to reap the souls of the young. Terrible thing, isn’t it?” Her eyes crinkled at the corners as she shrugged - what could they do? They were fools enough to fork over the money, after all. Bloody books.

Delighted, she laughed, a barely-noticeable wisp of smoke escaping into the wet air. “You’re pulling my leg! That’s the bloody bastard who gave me this!” Flicking aside a loose swathe of hair and hoping her foundation was smooth, she raised her eyebrows and pointed to a small scar just above the bridge of her nose, barely more than a thin white smudge. “There I w-was, um, fresh off the boat - so to speak - without a s-soul to help me carrying my books, not even a lovely English girl, and then - wallop! Bit of a bloody mess, truth be told. Um, happened to land n-neatly in a puddle, so, y’know - racked up a fair bit of debt to the library f-for a while. I w-wouldn’t turn my back on that sod if I were you. Cheeky buggers, lampposts are.” Squinting suspiciously at the lamppost for a second, daring it to make a move, she shuffled the book stack before asking, “W-where are you hefting these to, chum? I’ll, um, offer m-my services for a while.”

[nickydelacroix]

delivery for two

[nickydelacroix]

Nicky took a moment to hem and haw over the offer presented. He had work to do, but what an opportunity! He felt as if he would not be let in again if he returned at a later date. This human was much too guarded! “Well, okay! But I can’t stay for very long. People very much enjoy their mail on a schedule! I think I find that a bit odd. The mail part too!” Stepping inside, he let out his wings again, but with less of a flash - if she already knew, and they were in private, what was the point of keeping them inside? That could only lead to further discomfort. The iridescent feathers rustled softly as he folded them close to his back, following this girl and her parasite farther into the home. The angel looked around as he walked, wanting to poke at each and every trinket. Humans collected such odd things! His own dwelling was comfortably sparse, with bare walls and minimal furniture. He most definitely was not here on Earth to gather material items! Even clothes seemed a bit much to own.

“Well, you are not the hellspawn yourself, correct? There’s a separation. I can feel it. A distinctly pure and human soul somehow balancing with the repugnant demon.” He tilted his head, staring at this odd pair and squinting a bit. “Doesn’t seem much like the friendly type, now is it? At least it’s not too mean… The hiding is a good sign! The foulest always want to come out and attempt to challenge us, my brothers and I.” He smiled softly at the girl. This was truly so strange… Usually such creatures took much more control of a host’s body. “Now, there must be some explanation for your… Divide. I must admit, I’ve never seen the likes of this before! I’ve been active for a very long time, and yet you are the first. Fascinating!” he exclaimed, clasping his hands to his chest with a kind of twisted glee. Facing a demon was always just unfortunate, of course something so obviously weak couldn’t challenge him alone, but learning new things was absolutely terrific! What an adventure!

[harksichord-blog]

“Not everybody has the, um, pleasure of living forever.” Stevie said crisply, pulling the door to behind her and flicking the latch - in case another have-a-go hero decided to ruin her already rocky morning. “Time i-is important to humans.” She had, on multiple occasions, wondered what her lifespan would be. Whilst her body was a little worse for wear, she supposed the demon would do its best to maintain it for as long as it needed a vessel. It didn’t do her any good to dwell on the “as long as” part of that. Padding into the kitchen, she found the coffee machine had just finished, and that she had more clean mugs than she had first thought - more likely, she had more unused mugs than she had first thought. She didn’t particularly make a habit of doing the dishes. “Do you eat? Or, um, I suppose, can you? It’s custom to offer guests a hot beverage, and you’ve certainly made yourself p-present, haven’t you?” There was no point in beating about the bush - the angel had made himself very clear in his intentions, and it always gave her something of a rush to speak so plainly.

Resting her hand protectively on her breastbone, she made a soft noise of consternation, and had to turn herself back to the counter to compose herself. This was, really, like some sort of unwelcome therapy session. If she had wanted to examine her bond with the demon indepth, she would have preferred it to be in a dimmer room, with some soft whale music playing - not in her kitchen, under the gaze of her angelic mailman. It was difficult to not smart at remarks made at the demon’s expense - after twenty years together, she found it difficult to separate herself from it, and she had little doubt that it felt the same way from time to time. Huffing out a lungful of smoke, Stevie gathered her words and a plate of cookies and pivoted back to the table. “D-do you not have, um, a nicer word? I’m sure that you h-have problems with, um, demons, but... well, this is my home, and I live in it. I m-mean, um, and the demon lives in me. I was born with it and, um, I’m not sure that I like hearing it being called hellspawn. I’m not much sure that the demon a-appreciates it either, and I’ll be the one p-paying for it later.” Flushing red as she immediately regretted her words, she sat heavily at the table and nodded over to the chair opposite. “If, um, you h-have questions - a-and I’m sure you do - I’ll answer them a-as well as I can.”

[harksichord-blog]

“Are you dead?” -Dagmar

Wincing and sitting up, Stevie clutched her pounding head and peered up at the girl stood beside her. Shit. She rubbed her eyes, digging her knuckles in before dragging her hand down her face and groaning. Where the hell was she? “No, n-not dead, unfortunately.” The girl tucked her long legs beneath her, unfolding to her full height and stretching with a number of unpleasant sounding clicks and pops.

Finally on her feet again, she looked around and tried to make sense of what on earth was going on. The last thing she remembered was setting aside her laptop and finding a blanket to hunker down for a nap and then suddenly - well, someone had swapped her couch for a bench, and her living room for the bloody park. Bloody demons. Beginning to grow red in the face and hoping this would be easy to explain away, she said lightly, “Um, you don’t h-have to worry…”

[tianween]

((harksichord)) “Oh dear, do you need help?”

Okay, this island’s library was cool as shit. It was probably all the very inhuman tomes stacked in a magicked back room that really made it, but it was super cool nonetheless! So many years of information that he could shove inside his already bulging brain! Hella cool, right? He always left the building with a stack of books he could barely carry, a dollar store plastic rain poncho draped over them for protection. Gotta be nice to the books! 

Today’s pile was especially high. Benji found himself not really seeing what was in front of him, but just believing in himself and his knowledge of how to get home, which was. Not exactly working. He just ran into a wall. Shit, man. As he was shaking off that little jolt back to reality and kinda hoping no one saw him do it, a voice cut through the fog. Aw, man, that was embarrassing… He turned his head anyway, books still pushed against the wall with his torso and legs. 

“Hey, yeah, that’d be great! Thanks, dude.”

[harksichord-blog]

Stevie struggled to keep amusement off her face, mouth pressed into a wavering line and cheeks flushed. She’d actually laughed aloud when he hit the wall, the demon pushing the impulse into a full blown burst of laughter, but she’d managed to control herself enough to offer assistance. Awkwardly manoeuvring herself around, she managed to reach in and slide out half the stack, arms briefly quivering with the weight before being bolstered by the double strength behind them. 

With a crooked smile, she said, “Um, you know the library lets you c-come back, right? It’s, um, more than just a one-time place - a-and they don’t offer shopping trolleys either, sadly.” She half-laughed at her own remarks, shifting the weight of the books before adding, “In lieu of trolleys, I can, um, carry these..? I mean, unless you wanted to, um, walk home dangerously - i-in which case, don’t let me stop you! I’m sure it’d be a, um, good chance to get well acquainted with the, um, local lampposts, as it were.” Truly, she was incredibly pleased with herself - only one cup of coffee, and she was stringing full sentences together! Tucking her chin down against her chest for a moment, fidgeting beneath the weight of the books, she grinned down at her feet before directing her focus back to the rather large-toothed boy and his own stack of books.

[harksichord-blog]

✜?

✜ what’s their posture like in a normal situation?

oogh...... Uncomfortable, mostly.. she hunches in a lot to keep her height less obvious, and either has her hands jammed as far into her pockets as they can go with her shoulders up by her ears, or behind her back so she can squeeze her own hands.. she does that like. standing on your own feet awkwardly thing a lot too. basically worlds worst and most anxious posture 3/10 would consult a chiropractor 

[harksichord-blog]

⇅ ❧

⇅ do they look up or down while thinking?

up! she used to have bangs n she’d always blow up at them, but now its just a habit

❧ describe their usual sleeping position

if she manages to sleep through the night, curled up in a ball right in the centre - but mostly its splayed over whatever surface the demon deposits her on once it’s done knotting all her laces together and tping the tree outside