boo!

[maybemonica]

[pm] Thoughts on using 'Sun-sational' as a pun? I'm trying it out and I kind of like it.

[pm] BRILLIANT! Just like you! And thanks for this SUN-SATIONAL weather we're having btw!

[vengeancedemon]

@maybemonica replied to your post “What is your current level of joy”:

could be higher if u opened your heart to whimsy............

​I will not be doing this, so it will stay where it is.

[maybemonica]

Mr. Emilio. Send Perro picture. Plz. Or I'll EXPLODE.

[asirenscream]

frozen yogurt... yum // wren & monica

TIMING: MAY 2026

LOCATION: Forzen Yogurt

PARTIES: Monica ( @maybemonica ) & Wren ( @asirenscream )

SUMMARY: Wren tries to apply for a job. Monica wants frozen yogurt. Monica decides to lend a helping hand all while Wren, per usual, is utterly terrified. Time to be a real adult!

CONTENT WARNINGS: none!

As the weather got warmer with each day, it meant that one of Monica’s favourite seasons was approaching: ice cream season. Although she had never really agreed with how humans associated the frozen treat with the rising temperatures — didn’t it make more sense to eat ice cream in the winter, in weather where she could step out of the store and not have her cone melt immediately? Whatever, they could enjoy their ice cream in the summer and she would eat enough of it year-round for all of them. 

Now frozen yogurt was a whole other beast. Was it actually just frozen yogurt? Why did it seem fancier than ice cream? If she froze her tub of yogurt at home, would it produce a delectable treat? Monica was tempted to try it out, though she wasn’t sure how pleased Luc would be if she potentially ruined their yogurt for the sake of science. She would have to settle on leaving frozen yogurt to the professionals, which was what the people at Forzen Yogurt apparently were. She’d never actually been in the shop, but she heard about it plenty. One of the moms in her Zumba class claimed that the ice cream made her son cry. How could ice cream be scary?

So Monica had to go see for herself, and what could be better than a post-workout sweet treat? “Ice cream, ice cream, ic– oh, no. Frozen yogurt, frozen yogurt!” She sang to herself in some made-up song, tugging at the bag strap on her shoulder. The doppelganger waltzed up to Forzen Yogurt’s entrance to see another girl hovering outside the door, as if she was unsure about something. “Have you tried pushing instead of pulling?” 

—

Wren was being so brave. The bravest, in fact. That’s what she had to tell herself to get over the debilitating fear that was applying for a job. She had told her gege that she’d help out, of course. Apparently, making sure Moo Deng didn’t leave slipping hazards did not count—or being her daily entertainment. Whatever. So that’s how she found herself attempting to find a job. Though, everywhere else she tried to find her way into had resulted in her just running out before she could even try to apply. 

Forzen Yogurt was Wren’s last attempt—if she could get in the building, that is. The pink paper in her hands was clutched tightly. Wren practically trembled like a baby bird, which was a far too accurate comparison, admittedly. She was proud of herself for not hyperventilating at least. Her fingers clutched the paper tightly and she was bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet. 

“AH—!” Wren jumped and wheeled around with wide eyes to the other woman. “Oh! Um—hah—“ she awkwardly lurched forward and shoved the door open, practically tumbling forward. “There! Ah, yay! Woo hoo!” Her smile was more of a pained grimace. “Did it! Wow, thanks. Come here a lot?” The stuttered question came out quickly and still with an air of frantic panic to it. 

—

The stranger jumped which caused Monica to jolt rather dramatically too. “Ah!” She repeated, not mockingly, but it was a force of habit for her to return the energy of whoever she was around. Perhaps it was simply in her blood as a doppelganger. She instinctively reached her hands out when the other girl flew clumsily through the doorway, revealing the empty store inside the building. The only person was the employee behind the cashier…well, at least Monica hoped it was a person. She couldn’t quite tell with the thick hood that they were wearing. 

“Oh yes, woo hoo!” She repeated once again, throwing her hands in the air in a little cheering motion. The girl looked nervous to be in here — maybe she’d heard about the scary frozen yogurt like Zumba mom had? Monica shook her head at her question, smiling softly at the stranger in hopes that it’d help ease whatever was wrong with her. “First time, actually! I’m here to investigate the difference between ice cream and frozen yogurt. Which is to say, I’m here to have a little sweet treat! How about you?”

She scanned the room, trying to map out her plan of attack. There seemed to be a wide selection of frozen yogurt flavours as well as toppings, which was good for someone like Monica who hated having to make decisions. Maybe she would just get an itty bitty scoop of everything? She glanced over at the stranger again, noticing the pink paper that she was death gripping in her hand. Most of it was crumpled, but she could make out the bolded ‘RESUME’ heading at the top. “Oh! Are you here to apply for a job? Do you want me to, like, pretend to be your reference or something?”

—

There was a far too tight smile on Wren’s face as she straightened out, one hand smoothing out the fabric of her skirt. The girl seemed nice enough, but that was enough reason to make her even more jumpy. That, mixed with guilt that she couldn’t manage to hold a conversation without wanting to turn tail and run. “I, um—” she stuttered a bit, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks almost immediately at being put onto the spot. She didn’t even do well normally, this was a disaster already in her mind.

“I’m—well. Yeah. I’m trying.” Wren finally managed to get out. “I told my—my brother. Um. That I would try to get a job. Not that he’s making me!” She said quickly, crumpling the paper up inadvertently as she gripped onto it tighter. “I just want to prove a point. That, like, I can do it or whatever. Be a real adult.” She laughed weakly, doing her best to not outright stare at the employee behind the counter with their spooky hood. 

Glancing once, unable to help it, Wren then quickly looked back at the girl. “I’m Wren, by the way! I hope your… you know, investigation goes well. It looks like they have plenty of toppings near that scary employee—” Wren broke off with a squeak then grimaced, immediately lowering her voice. “Sorry, I shouldn’t call people spooky or scary—but like, their vibe is totally off, right? Am I overthinking this?” 

—

Now that Monica had a bit more context, it made complete sense why her new friend looked like she wanted to jump out of her own skin. “Job hunting is nerve wracking! I’ve totally been there,” the doppelganger said, dragging the ‘totally’ for emphasis. Applying for jobs had been scary at first, that was, until she had started applying for every and any job that popped up around town. “It’s good that your brother didn’t, like, force you or anything. I’m guessing he’s a “real adult” with a “real job” then, huh?” Monica scrunched up her nose in displeasure as she moved her fingers in the air quotes motion. “Being a real adult is sooo overrated. But c’est la vie I guess!” 

The doppelganger figured that would be the end of it; the stranger would go about her day trying to convince Forzen Yogurt that she could be trusted to handle cash, while Monica would sneak around taking little samples of every topping available. She was pleasantly surprised when the sheepish girl introduced herself, assuming that meant she had come off as friendly enough as to be an ally in her job hunt. “Wren…cute! Like the little birdy! I’m Monica, like the song “Mambo No. 5!”” 

She followed Wren’s gaze towards the sole employee — still hooded, still ominous. “No, I think you’re onto something…” She nodded in agreement, turning back to the other girl while making sure she still had the employee in her peripheral. “But maybe that’s just the theme of this place? I’ve heard they have some scary-themed flavours! And you see that table over there? The pentagram deco on it? Some cult sorta shit. Spoooky…” Monica wriggled her fingers for dramatic emphasis. “Hey! How about I go up to them with you? The faster you drop off your resume, the faster you can get a sweet treat as a reward and get the hell out of here!” She looped her arm through Wren’s, pulling her towards the counter before the other girl could protest.

—

“He’s definitely the most adult-y adult I know. I feel like I’m perpetually not an adult. Is that normal?” Wren asked like that was a normal thing to ask someone she just met, but whatever. It’s not like she could exactly discern what was normal and what wasn’t with humans. She had to keep watching her movies for research purposes. “Yeah! Yeah. Just like a bird.” Mambo No. 5… she had no idea what the other woman was talking about, but she would take her word for it, she supposed. She just smiled shakily and nodded her head. Being brave, she was being totally brave. Soooo brave.

There wasn’t much Wren could do. One moment she was telling the girl that the employee seemed scary as hell, the next? She was being dragged along without a second thought. A squeak escaped the siren and she swallowed thickly, the lump of nerves forming in her throat almost instantly. “Okay! Okay—um, oh god.” She had to resist the urge to outright turn around, wrench her arm out of Monica’s hold, and run off as fast as she could manage. She could do this, especially with her new pushy… friend? Yeah, she’ll go with friend. Her new pushy friend’s help.

Once at the counter, Wren promptly slapped down the pink paper. “What do we say now?” She whispered to Monica, jolting when the hooded figure slowly looked at them. “HELLO!” She said loudly, a far cry from the nervous whisper she just used with Monica. This was totally going well.

—

Monica nodded adamantly, despite not having a single clue what being a real adult felt like. She didn’t even know what being a kid truly felt like considering that her ‘childhood’ consisted of jumping from body to body. But she at least knew what it was like to feel pressured to grow up and be at a certain point in her life, so she wanted her new friend to know that she wasn’t alone. “I think so! But, like, what even is an adult, ya know? Age is just a number and adulthood is just a concept…at least, that’s what I tell myself. Maybe you can tell yourself that too and you’ll be less stressed!”

Judging from the sounds that Wren was making on their way to the counter, Monica might’ve been doing the opposite of making her less stressed. The other girl was squeaking and squawking like the bird she was named after…or did only parrots make those noises? Whatever, Wren was clearly scared, though Monica couldn’t really blame her. Even for a super brave person like her (and she was most definitely brave), the hooded employee was giving her the heebie-jeebies. 

Monica only paused for a second to think about ways to lead the conversation, but it was enough silence for her new friend to feel the need to fill it. Her eyes widened in alarm at the other’s sudden outburst, Wren’s voice ringing through the empty store. On second thought, was this what people meant when they said Monica was talking at 100 decibels? Well, the only thing to do was double down. “HELLO!” The doppelganger repeated after Wren, the employee turning to look at her now — did it count as looking if their hood covered their eyes? 

“My friend here would like to get a job at this fine establishment! She’s, like, super qualified, trust me. No one has ever made a bowl of frozen yogurt better than she has. Wren, show them!” Monica gestured to the various frozen yogurt machines lining the walls, throwing a thumbs up at the girl with her other hand as her tummy started to gurgle. Well it wasn’t exactly a lie if she didn’t know if it was false, right?

—

“That’s true…” Wren allowed with a puff of her cheeks. Most movies she watched with the quintessential coming of age experience. Maybe this frozen yogurt shop with a creepy employee would be her coming of age moment! Though, with how she was all but being yanked along, she wasn’t entirely sure. Most of her everyday life felt like her being brought along for the ride—one she very much wanted to get off. Much like now. She wanted to get off this ride and go back home, maybe sneak Moo Deng a dorito or two and call it a night. Instead, she had to be brave—or try to be, at least.

The hooded figure just stared at them, entirely too still. Well, it seemed like they were staring. Wren wasn’t entirely sure if they were or not. She was too nervous to double check. “OKAY! I mean—ahem. Okay. Yes, definitely. I can totally do this.” Her smile was much more of a grimace than an actual smile before she nodded her head sharply. She headed directly for the machines. Though, the second she grabbed a cup? Wren just stared at the machines. They had some of the weirdest flavors imaginable listed. Voids and some.. Gods? She wasn’t sure. Rainbow sounded like the best bet out of all of them. 

Wren grabbed the lever and pulled it down, yelping sharply as the machine started to make a strange noise. She couldn’t even begin to describe it. Maybe something close to a mix between a mechanical groan and a cartoonish scream? Or just a goat yelling—she had watched those videos once—all she knew was it was absolutely terrifying. The monochromatic ‘rainbow’ flavored yogurt had barely begun to dispense into the cup when the machine making that noise frightened Wren so much that the cup slipped out of her grasp. It hit the ground with an audible SPLAT, sending the yogurt all over the floor and up her legs. 

Staring at the mess, Wren then slowly looked at Monica and the employee. “Um, tada? Professional.. Uh, professional frozen yogurt dispensing!”

—

Now this wasn’t good. With the grimace on her face, Wren looked like she was holding in a burp rather than exuding confidence. At least she was trying, fake it ‘till you make it and all that. Monica would give her an A+ for effort, making a cheering motion with her hands as she watched her new friend make a beeline for the machines. Throwing a look back at the hooded figure, the girl couldn’t help but let out a little squeak of her own when she realized they had inched closer to the counter when she wasn’t looking. “Uh, trying to get a better view! Smart! You’ll definitely wanna keep your eyes on this artistry.”

Monica jolted from surprise once more when the machines started coming to life, a sound filling the room that she could only describe as screaming. Soft serve machines definitely didn’t do that. “You guys should play some music in here or something, help mask whatever the hell that sound is,” she commented to the employee, making sure to keep one eye on Wren as the frozen yogurt started dispensing. There was potential for things to go well! However, it was quickly squashed by a particularly loud scream from the machine, the cup slipping out of Wren’s hands and its contents splatting onto the ground. 

Crisis mode! Monica hesitantly glanced back at the employee (who seemed to be fully pressed against the counter now) before pulling napkins from the dispenser and darting over to Wren. “This flavor’s called rainbow? Now that’s just not true,” was the first thing she said as she saw the plaque above the machine. Handing over the napkins to Wren, Monica paused for a split second. This frozen yogurt hadn’t been on the ground for that long — surely it was still edible, right? No, no, she had to stop eating floor food no matter if it was free or not. 

Free…the gears in Monica’s head started turning. She could turn this around, surely. It was clear that Wren wouldn’t be allowed anywhere near these machines if the hooded figure cared about their business, so at least they could make the most of their time here. “Hey! Your machine frightened her so bad that she couldn’t even do her job! What are these workplace conditions, huh?” The doppelganger crossed her arms as she turned back to face the employee. “We demand financial compensation for this emotional damage. Actually, no. You know what? We’ll be generous. A free cup of frozen yogurt each and we won’t tear your business to shreds on Yelp.” 

The employee didn’t say anything, which wasn’t agreement but it wasn’t exactly rejection either. Monica could work with that. “Wren! Go over there and fill two cups with toppings, will ya! Surely gummy worms won’t scream at you. Leave the machines to me!”

—

Wren was contemplating all the different ways that she could become one with the spilled frozen yogurt on the floor. She, too, could be a monochrome shade of color, perhaps pink, that claims to be rainbow. It would be hard to go from a siren to a sentient pile of frozen yogurt, but maybe it’d be good for her. 

Taking the napkins from Monica, Wren forced a wobbly smile on her face. She would not cry, even if every part of her body was demanding she did. Her teeth dug into her wobbling bottom lip and the sting in her eyes was far too prevalent. It was mortifying enough to get frozen yogurt all over her legs, she didn’t need to add to it. She took the napkins from Monica and hurried to wipe up the mess splattered all over her legs. “It definitely doesn’t look rainbow. Maybe it’s in the taste.” She muttered, balling the used napkins up in her hand. 

Wren looked between Monica and the employee. The employee just seemed to keep staring at them. Not moving a muscle. What the heck? “Yeah, we won’t yelp!” She quickly jumped into action with a sharp nod. She didn’t know what yelping had to do with anything, but she definitely wouldn’t make that sound if she was going to get out of this with either a job or frozen yogurt—or both. 

“Right!” Wren quickly moved. She snatched up two more cups and hurried over to the counter. She used the same spoon to scoop up a bunch of nuts into one cup then piled gummy bears on top of it. She lurched to then plop a scoop of boba—maybe strawberry—into the cup. The siren practically got as many toppings as she could into the two cups before proudly presenting them. “See! Without incident!” She plucked up a piece of broken cookie and popped it past her lips. 

The hooded figure just stared at both Monica and Wren. Maybe. It was hard to tell. He seemed to let out a sigh, a long suffering one at that, before saying nothing else. Wren blinked then slowly looked at Monica. “I think we can just take them and go. Maybe?”

—

Great. Everything was going according to plan — well, the plan that Monica had conjured up on the fly as a diversion to the chaos unfolding. Sure, this plan was mostly so that she could get a free sweet treat, but Wren seemed pretty sad when she plucked the napkins out of her hand, and what better way to cheer her up than free food? 

The doppelganger made sure that the other girl was settled at the toppings bar before turning to face the machines. The evil, evil machines — she wouldn’t be so easily defeated. Monica placed her hand on the lever, bracing herself for impact before pulling down. It screeched again, and she was almost tempted to screech back at it to assert her dominance, but that probably wasn’t the best idea with her jumpy new friend. The stupid Rainbow flavour sputtered, only a few drops going into the cup before a large amount suddenly plopped out of the nozzle. Monica swerved the cup around to make sure she was catching every bit of it — thank god that 24 hours where she worked at Dairy Queen was finally coming into handy. 

She repeated the process with the flavour in the next machine — Graveyard Bones, whatever that meant — grinning when she finally had the two full cups in her hands. “Yes! Without incident! I knew you could do it, Wren,” Monica cheered as the two girls reconvened at the counter, sticking her hand out to give her new friend a high five. “See? Clearly an equipment issue. She’s, like, an expert otherwise.” The fae’s tummy twisted considering that she had just dispensed the frozen yogurt with no issue. Well, it was an equipment issue when in Wren’s hands — that much was probably true.

The employee made their first audible sound since they’d entered the shop, and Monica nodded affirmatively to the girl next to her. “We will be taking these and going, and you will not be stopping us!” She pointed at the hooded figure with an exaggerated flourish, copying what she’d seen in some anime detective game. “Any parting words? Defend yourself against the super brutal review I’m about to write?” The employee did not speak, and the fae stayed in her pose until they finally sighed again. “Get out. Now.” The low, gruff voice sent a shockwave through Monica’s system, and she let out a squeak as she scrambled to pick up both cups of frozen yogurt. “C’mon Wren! Time to go!”

When she was sure the door to Forzen Yogurt was closed tightly behind them, Monica couldn’t help but giggle. “See, that’s what I call a grade A swindle. Annoy the enemy until they’ll do anything to get you to leave them alone! Including giving you food for free.” She waved the cups in front of Wren until a tiny bit of guilt started to creep in. The fae’s cheeriness faltered. “Uh, I’m sorry about the job thing. I feel like that was kinda on me…” She trailed off as she looked down at the ground, kicking a tiny pebble off of the sidewalk. “But, like, if you ask me, you dodged a bullet! Who would want to work for that creepy guy anyways? Bleugh.” 

The cups of frozen yogurt were starting to freeze her hands, and Monica offered Wren a sheepish smile. “How about this? We go find a place to enjoy our hard-earned sweet treat, and I’ll help you think up some other places around town you can apply to! I’ve worked at, like, sooo many places around town. I’m basically an expert.”

—

Wren’s hand collided with Monica’s in a little high five, a breathless little smile pulling at her lips. The frozen yogurt looked so well done! Way better than the mess of frozen yogurt that Wren had dropped all on the floor then all over her legs—even if the frozen yogurt did look a little weird. At least it was in a pretty swirl! Her hands tightened around the two little cups of toppings as Monica declared that they would be taking the frozen yogurt and going. “Yeah, what she said!” Fake it until you make it, or so the humans seem to say. She could fake being totally confident, even if she was the furthest thing from it.

“Getting out now! Thank you, bye!” Wren squeaked out, hurrying to catch up with Monica to get the heck out of Forzen Yogurt ASAP. Thankfully, they did not have to yelp. She did enough yelping in everyday life, she didn’t want to have to yelp at the scary hooded employee. Once outside, Wren laughed a little alongside Monica. “This is just like when I stole seafood with my friend, Clem! How exciting! Frozen yogurt and yummy toppings!”

At the other woman’s apology, Wren immediately shook her head. “No, it’s okay! You’re right, I think I would spend every day crying there—especially when the sounds went crazy at the machines. That’s like, so not cool, ya know? I don’t need to cry into the yogurt toppings. I don’t think that’s good.” She nodded her head sharply. “Yes! That sounds good! Thank you for your help, Monica. I’m glad I met you today.”

Following alongside the other girl, Wren let herself smile a tiny bit. Sure, the day hadn’t gone how she imagined for a job hut, but she was almost positive that this was way better. 

[eggtruther]

[maybemonica]

WHY IS THIS EGG OLD PERSON SHAPED??!?!?! IS THERE A NEW CRYPTID THAT WE HAVE TO BE WORRIED ABOUT?!?!?!

[constanquence]

TIMING: Mid March LOCATION: The Black Lagoon PARTIES: Constance Eades (@constanquence) and Monica Clarke (@maybemonica) SUMMARY: Constance and Monica sit down for a latte. Some unintended side-effects follow.

Wicked’s Rest was her beloved home, so Monica was making it her mission this year to explore every inch of it. Today she was in Nightfall Grove, the one part of town that she had put off visiting for a while. The place totally gave her the heebie-jeebies with its gothic buildings and flickering streetlights, but the Instagram reel that she’d seen of a neat coffee shop had been too tempting to pass up. Besides, she was brave! If the cute little humans could get by in this part of town with no problem, then so could she.

The bike ride to the neighbourhood had been non-eventful, except for the fact that the sun had started setting out of nowhere. Monica blinked in confusion at her watch; it was only 2pm! Upon arrival at her destination, she quickly chained up her bike outside of The Black Lagoon and made a beeline into the cafe. She was relieved to see a decent crowd of people inside, the low chatter a comforting reassurance compared to the eerie streets. “Man, why does the sun set differently here? That’s, like, not how planets work, I’m pretty sure,” she exclaimed to the customer in front of her in line, who had the misfortune of being the person closest to Monica at the time. “Hmm, so many options! Have you been here before? Do you have any recommendations?”

—

Things have been going fantastic since she moved to Wicked’s Rest. No problems at all! She was grateful work was completed for the day since she knew they would soon be losing light. As a treat for all her hard work she decided to head over to the Black Lagoon. It couldn’t be the only place to grab a drink in the neighborhood, but Constance knew better than to go walking around the area once the night fully settled in. She also could be a creature of habit and had yet to fully venture throughout the neighborhood.

After a brisk walk, she came upon the cafe. Constance usually settled for one of their black teas, but was feeling especially daring today. As she looked over the menu on what to try, she heard a voice behind her in the queue. “Oh,” she turned around, giving a polite smile. “Hi there. The darkness is a mystery, but it really sets the tone around here.” A very eerie tone but a tone nonetheless. “I usually get one of their teas, actually. I haven’t been very adventurous, but I thought I’d change that today.” She glanced back at the menu. “I was thinking the Reanimated Monster sounds nice—it’s a matcha chai latte.” Her fingers brushed against her lips as she considered the menu further. “I’ve also been wanting to try their Werewolf in London Fog. How about yourself?”

—

Set the tone it did indeed, which wasn’t a tone that Monica particularly enjoyed, but she guessed every neighbourhood needed its own charm. At least it produced this cute little cafe, and she had been lucky enough today to seemingly run into a regular. “Tea is good! Tea is comforting! But adventure…ooh, how exciting!” She exclaimed, her eyes widening at the menu board. She listened as the stranger listed off a few drinks, nodding enthusiastically as they read the description of each one. “Well both sound super yummy! I know you didn’t ask for my opinion, but the Reanimated Monster sounds soo fun! Plus, green!” Selfishly, Monica was hoping that the stranger would get that one so she could see how a green drink would look; it was a color of food that she usually avoided. 

The girl pursed her lips, deep in thought as she scanned the list of drinks more seriously. “Hmm, I think I’ll do that one!” She told the stranger, pointing at a vague area of the menu board. “The Astomi’s Brew. I mean, I don’t know who this Ass-To-Me is, but their drink sounds good!” The warm apple cider latte with cookie butter drizzle was calling to her. As they made it to the front of the line, Monica waited patiently for the other to make their order before bounding up to the counter herself. “Sooo, which drink did you end up getting?” She asked as she moved to the pick-up area where her new friend (self-proclaimed) was waiting for their own order. “And oh! I’m Monica, by the way. Thanks for letting me chat your ear off, heh.”

—

Constance took in the other’s energy, faintly amused, but not unkindly. It grounded her, pulled her out of her own thoughts. Reminiscent of someone she was very fond of. “It does sound good.” She agreed. “It’s hard to choose when everything seems interesting.” Given how often she had been visiting the Black Lagoon, it wouldn’t hurt to try a new drink every time. When the stranger had let her know the drink she was considering, Constance’s eyes narrowed slightly at the mispronunciation—luckily her gaze had drifted back to the menu. An apple cider latte? That was definitely unlike anything she ever had before. Perhaps another time.

When her turn came, she placed her order and stepped aside. She hadn’t expected the girl to continue the conversation, but warmly welcomed it. “I’m Constance. It’s nice to meet you, Monica.” Her gaze moved briefly to the counter, then back. “I ordered the Reanimated Monster. It felt appropriate for the weather.” Chai was always warming with its spices and Constance enjoyed the earthiness of a Matcha. It was a perfect match. Although, she did ask if they could make it a touch sweeter. “How about yourself?” She glanced around the seating area and noted a small table open near the window. “You’re welcome to join me, if you’d like. I was going to grab that table by the window.”

—

Monica beamed when her energy seemed well received, giddy when the other confirmed that she’d gone with her drink suggestion. “Sick! Warm spices, cold weather. Brr.” She shivered just thinking about going back out there without a hot drink in her system. “I did end up going with the Ass-To-Mi! I like sweet things, and the name is so funny sounding.” Monica was about to pull out her phone to look up who or what exactly this Astomi thing was, but she was quickly distracted by Constance’s offer. “Oh my gosh, that’s so nice of you! In that case, I’ll definitely join you!” Success! Perhaps her new self-proclaimed friend wasn’t so self-proclaimed after all.

Offering a smile to the barista who placed their drinks on the counter, Monica waltzed to the table that Constance had pointed out. “I usually like sitting at the window to soak up some sunshine, but staring at a black void works too!” Perhaps she was being a little dramatic — the sun had fully set by now, though it wasn’t completely dark thanks to the few flickering street lights. She would have to get Estella’s thoughts on the perpetual darkness in this part of town. Sitting down and finally shrugging her coat off, Monica wrapped her hands around the hot cup and hummed in satisfaction. “A hot drink in hand is, like, the epitome of winter. Well, cheers!” she said as she raised her cup to Constance’s, nose skimming the pile of whipped cream as she then went to take her first sip.

—

The energy was childish and bright and Constance couldn’t find it in herself to turn it away. The world had a tendency to be cruel and dark and while she wouldn’t be someone who would reciprocate the other’s energy, she’d be sure it knew it had a safe place to land in. “The name,” she started, voice a touch gentler than usual, “it’s pronounced Ah-Stoh-Me.” She met the other’s eyes with a soft smile, meaning no disrespect in her correction. Actually, “Still sounds a bit funny, doesn’t it?” The smile widened and she averted her gaze, turning to the seat by the window. 

The lack of filter was actually refreshing to be around and it let Constance be more of a listener than driving the entire conversation. Something about Monica told her she could have an engaging conversation with a wall meanwhile Constance would grow tired of that same wall two sentences in. As she sat down, she took in the sight of the “black void” as Monica had called it. The streetlamps illuminated the streets with a warm orange glow. A shade that she felt Nova would enjoy. She let herself ease into her seat at the thought of her friend and made a mental note to message her later.

Her attention was pulled back to Monica as she sat down. “Cheers,” she said and raised her cup in return. She blew on it gently before taking a sip. Just the perfect amount of sweetness. Her eyes flicked back to Monica, eyes catching the cream at the tip of her nose. She slid a napkin over to her side. “You’ve got a bit…” her finger rubbed at the tip of her own nose. Constance couldn’t remember the last time she was so lost in the moment, so unattuned with herself, that she’d let her nose poke into her whipped cream. She could however, without much thought, recall the person who’d last seen her like that. “So, what do you rate yours? I think mine is a solid…” Constance’s lips pursed momentarily. “8.5 out of 10.”

—

“Ah-Stoh-Me,” Monica repeated slowly, making sure to enunciate every syllable. “Huh. Who would’ve thought!” She did like that it still sounded silly, the girl giggling as she cocked her head to the side. “Since you know how to say it, do you know who or what this Astomi is?” She felt like it was only right to learn more about the mysterious thing associated with this delicious drink.

She took another big gulp now that she knew the drink was good, enjoying the way the hot liquid burned her throat going down. As she spotted Constance sliding the napkin over, her eyes widened. “Oops! Thank you, I didn’t even notice!” She said as she picked up the offering, scrubbing at her nose perhaps a bit harder than necessary. If Monica was alone, she would probably lick all of the whipped cream off of the top of the drink before going in for the liquid. She didn’t want to scare off her new friend though, still wanting to show off some form of manners in front of them. 

“8.5 is good, great even! Phew, I’m glad my recommendation didn’t lead you astray,” she clapped her hands together, pleased. Monica peered curiously into the other’s cup — well, as best as she could from her seat without looking like a snoop. Sad, the drink was a much more muddled green than the bright neon that she’d been hoping for, but perhaps that was a good thing. “It smells really good from here, like, the spices are tickling my nose.” She peered down into her own cup, the scents wafting into the air so strongly that it felt like she’d entered a Bath & Body Works. “I’d give mine a 9! Just needs more cookie butter. Like, I can definitely taste it, but it smells so strong that I was just expecting more, ya know?” She angled her cup slightly in the other girl’s direction. “Like you smell how strong that is, right?”

—

Constance noted the way she took the correction. Easy. Without any defensiveness. She liked that. “I do know.” Everything Greco-Roman she knew had been learned against her will. But, Monica didn’t need to know that, no, she was asking for curiosity’s sake. So, with a smile, Constance enlightened her. “They were a mythical race in Greco-Roman legends. Humanoids who didn’t eat nor drink and instead gained sustenance from the air or the scents they breathe. That’s probably why your drink smells so strongly.” That was clever of the business, she had to admit. She wondered how they were able to do that without overpowering the taste.

As she took another sip, Constance could taste the earthiness of the matcha a bit stronger now. It was still wrapped up in sugar and spice, however. Delicious, but she wasn’t sure if it would be her new go-to. She glanced over at the counter. Nobody was in the queue and the workers had their backs turned, cleaning their workspace. Her eyes returned to Monica to see her trying to peer into her cup. It was an interesting color, she had to admit. With the few sips the green and the brown had started to mix, resulting in a muted dirty green. Not the most visually appealing color in any regard, but that didn’t matter so much as the taste did.

“You’ve got a strong nose,” Constance said, her voice soft. It was like Monica was experiencing the world for the first time, completely consumed by her own senses. It was infectious—almost. The joy wasn’t allowed to settle in deep, but it definitely did press against her and Constance allowed herself to feel its warmth. “I can definitely smell it. Do you think it would taste better with more cookie butter? They do take some adjustments to the drink. You could ask for more syrup next time.” While the smell was apparent, Constance didn’t think she would categorize it as strong. Maybe the dust in the home had hindered her sense of smell.

—

Perhaps some considered her habit of asking questions annoying, but learning was just one of Monica’s favourite parts of being human. Questions led to answers, and she liked how everyone had their own unique pool of knowledge. Like how would she have known that Constance was an apparent expert in Greco-Roman legends if she hadn’t asked? “Oh wow! That’s so neat that you know that, and clever of the shop to come up with this drink, heh.” As Monica let the other’s knowledge register, she suddenly started thinking about Kirby at home — how it and its little friends had sniffed up all of Clem’s food that day. Why did it sound so familiar? “Sooo, like, when you say humanoid, do you think that could include pink blobs?”

The funny thing was Monica didn’t have a particularly strong nose, which was why she left toast to burn in the toaster so often, or why she always had Luc check if certain food in their fridge had gone bad. But right now, smells were filling her nose in a way that she hadn’t thought possible. “O-oh! That’s a good suggestion,” she said to the other girl as she tried to focus back up. “I do tend to like things on the sweet side, and you can never have enough cookie butter, so I think I’ll do that next time!”

Another customer walked past their table with an opaque bag in hand, but Monica didn’t need to see what was inside to identify the sweet, slightly fruity scent. “That person’s blueberry muffin smells so good,” she said as she watched that customer sit down at a table across the room. Next to them, a child was drinking something creamy and chocolatey. Monica suddenly craved that hot chocolate. “It’s crazy how strong this place makes their drinks, huh?” She said with a nervous chuckle, the overwhelming mixture of scents in her nose starting to confuse her. If smells had colour, then this shop would be painted like a rainbow. “Or maybe I’m losing my mind…ha! Uh, am I warm? Do I feel warm to you?” It was probably a lot to ask someone she just met to feel her forehead, but Monica was one of the last people to ever feel shame. 

—

“Pink blobs?” Constance looked at Monica, half expecting her to burst out in laughter like this was a joke Constance simply didn’t understand. “They’re described as humanoid, but it is just a myth. They were said to be hairy as well.” No laughter followed, as if Monica had been asking a genuine question. Constance leaned forward. “Are you familiar with pink blobs that have similarities to the Astomi?” Wicked’s Rest was odd, to put it mildly. It contained creatures that Constance had never even heard of. If she truly wanted to do good here, if she truly wanted to help supernatural beings, she needed to educate herself.

It had always put Constance at ease to have someone else share a sweet tooth with her. Her mother was always the one to indulge in sweetness, her father was always the one to complain about the sweetness. How could you not enjoy the comfort of sugar? At the mention of a blueberry muffin, Constance blinked and looked over at the customer in question. She sniffed the air, but couldn’t find any hint of blueberry. Slowly, she turned back to Monica, coming to the conclusion the other had some kind of enhanced olfactory sense.

Constance observed her, taking a larger sip of her drink. The scents seemed too novel for Monica, as if she were noting them for the first time. If someone had an enhanced scent their whole life, they’d have gotten used to it already. No, this was something else. “Would you like to step outside for some air?” The cafe definitely did have some sort of heating on, combined with the warm drink, it might have made Monica’s internal temperature warm up faster than she was used to. Still, Constance obliged, standing up and leaning over to rest the back of her hand against Monica’s forehead. However, upon doing so, she felt a sharp shock at the contact. Constance immediately pulled her hand back. “Oh—forgive me, I wasn’t aware how dry it was in here.” That felt a bit stronger than your typical static shock. “Let’s go get some air.”

—

Hairy? Kirby wasn’t hairy — the complete opposite, actually! Kirby’s shiny bald head was one of the things Monica loved most about it. “Actually, I sa–” She cut herself off, eyes widening as she hesitated. Perhaps disclosing information about her weird new fae pet to a stranger wasn’t the best idea…but then again, Constance’s curiosity seemed more genuine than judgemental. “Well, I saw this little guy at work the other day. Pink, bald, blobby. Then it started vacuuming food through its nose! Like, sniffing real hard. Only the things that smelled good though.” She figured she would leave out the part about there being multiple of them, and the part about her taking it home. 

As she recounted her meeting with the little guys, a strong waft of cinnamon hit her nose. In her peripheral, she spotted a barista shaking the spice onto a foamy drink. Was this how detective dogs felt when they were sent to go sniff out clues? Or like those pigs whose job was to hunt truffles? At least Constance wasn’t looking at her in disgust, which meant that Monica wasn’t sniffing too super loudly. Yet somehow that made it worse, considering she was smelling so much without trying very hard at all. “Outside…yes, outside! Outside, good!” She replied, nodding at Constance’s suggestion. 

The other girl stood and reached her hand over, and Monica lifted the stray curls off of her forehead. “I don’t, like, feel particularly warm, but it’s kinda so stuffy in here, an– OW!” She squeaked as Constance made contact with her skin, a sharp shock feeling like prodding needles. Monica pouted, rubbing her forehead as if it’d help ease the lingering ache. “It’s fine! Totally not your fault. Unless that’s your super power that you’ve been trying to hide from me all this time. Oh, like Storm! Ya know, from the X-Men?” She was rambling now, the shock leaving an itchy sensation on her forehead. “But outside, right! Let’s do that,” she said as she eagerly stood, her chair letting out an echoing scrape throughout the cafe. 

With every table of food and drinks she passed, it was like Monica could identify every ingredient with just a sniff. The scent of herbal teas, sharp cheese on yeasty bread, and a random whiff of popcorn ambushed her nose — all delicious on their own, but a bit of a mess when she was smelling them all at once. The doppelganger frowned, quickening her pace towards the door. She held it open for her new friend, unable to suppress a flinch as Constance’s hand made contact with the handle. Monica watched as a visible spark flashed between Constance’s finger and the brass. “Yeesh, maybe you really are an X-Men and you’re just discovering your powers now?”

—

Constance’s eyes were focused on Monica as she described the creature she had come across. Hairless and pink? Vacuuming through its nose? That sounded very similar to the mythological creatures. Were the myths inspired by some actual creature? Wouldn’t be the first time. Her eyes flicked down to the black tile of the cafe. Most would have brushed off Monica’s words as utter nonsense. Not Constance. She made a mental note to look into it, and see how much more information Monica would be willing to part with.

Her fingers flexed at her side, still recovering after being caught off guard by the static electricity. Outside would definitely be better—surely the moisture in the air would dampen any friction from generating. She stood up from her seat, drink in hand and headed toward the exit. One of the baristas thanked them for coming as she reached the door, leading Constance to turn her head to acknowledge them. It allowed Monica to beat her to the door while she absentmindedly reached for the door to shut it behind them.

The electricity sparked at her fingertips as her skin made contact with the handle. The lights flickered in the cafe and Constance promptly shut it, hoping no one had noticed. But, of course, Monica did. Constance stood aside the storefront, a path illuminated by the glow from the lights in the cafe spreading from its windows. She could worry. She could concern herself with what happened back there—but Constance wasn’t alone. Monica was outside with her, and that was who took precedence.

“Does outside feel any better?” Constance asked as her mind processed the references Monica was making. Storm and X-Men immediately brought Nova to the forefront of her mind and a small smile ghosted on her lips. “No,” she said as her smile widened. “I’m not a mutant. It’s just static electricity from how dry it was in the cafe.” It was stronger than most, but Constance chose not to focus on that. Instead her mind was drifting to somewhere more pleasant. Cross-legged in front of Nova’s television, as the intro to the X-Men Animated Series blared. “It’s funny that’s the first thing your mind went to.” Most would have assumed something supernatural—the stuff of Superheroes was the stuff of childish imagination.

—

Monica felt the hairs on the back of her next standing, whether from being exposed back into the cold or from the electric (literally!) energy that Constance was emitting. Though before she could comment, the other girl was already asking her a question. “A little bit, yeah! Definitely not as overwhelming, that’s for sure,” Monica said with relief, flashing Constance a brief thumbs up. The faint smell of coffee mixed with the rich, buttery scent of freshly baked pastries still lingered in her nose, but anything was better than the bombardment of her senses that she was experiencing just seconds ago. 

The girl pouted ever so slightly at the confirmation that Constance wasn’t a mutant — in a world where shapeshifting grey blobs (herself) and sniffling pink blobs (Kirby) existed, surely the existence of mutants wouldn’t be that far-fetched. “Well, I’m always thinking about what super power I’d want if I were to get one, so I was thinking about shooting lightning from my hands just the other day! Pew, pew, pew, and all that jazz. Maybe not my number one choice, but still super cool, like Storm!” Like you could’ve been if you were a mutant, Monica thought but refrained from saying out loud at the risk of sounding rude. Not that Constance wasn’t cool already, but being a mutant would make anyone at least ten times cooler. That was just a fact.

Turning her attention back to reality, the doppelganger cocked her head to the side as she returned Constance’s question. “How about you? Do you feel better out here?” Monica hadn’t particularly noticed the dry atmosphere in the cafe, though she had admittedly been preoccupied with her own problems. The girl made a show of inhaling deeply as if it would help purge her nose of all scenes once and for all. However, as she went to exhale, she felt a slight tickle in her nostril. Monica covered her face with the crook of her elbow in preparation, but it wasn’t her typical high-pitched sneeze that she let out. Instead, a deep, booming sneeze echoed in the empty street, a sharp gust of air leaving her chest so intensely that it knocked her over onto her butt. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” She squeaked, the paper cup in her hand now tossed to the side. “I’ve literally never sneezed like that. Like, ever!”

Monica reached out to take Constance’s hand as she started to get up, but she flinched at yet another jolting shock as their fingers brushed. “Ack! Okay, I know you said you weren’t a mutant, but are you sure you aren’t, like, in denial? Or that this is your origin story? That’d be kinda cool, being in someone’s superhero origin story…” Monica said from the ground, where she still was because the flinch from Constance’s grasp had sent her straight back on her ass. The street lights started to flicker even more rapidly than they had been, and the girl shivered at the spooky atmosphere. “So dark…so grey…it feels like we’re in some actual ancient gothic novel right now. Like Dracula. Ooh, or Frankenstein!”

—

Constance was relieved to hear that Monica felt better out here. It must have been the enclosed space in the cafe. Her eyes caught the flame in a nearby streetlamp. The sight made her throat tighten. She was unable to look away, not mesmerized, but something closer to distrust—anticipating the fire to jump out. A gust of wind moved down the street, causing the flame to flicker toward her. She visibly flinched. Where the hell did that come from? Constance had passed by countless lamps like this before. Never had they provoked that sort of reaction. She finished what was left of her drink and tossed it into the wastebin outside.

Turning away from the streetlamp, she redirected her attention to Monica. The mention of superpowers brought another memory to the surface. What kind of children didn’t discuss what superpowers? Constance had struggled with the idea. They lived in this magical world—what was the point of imagining more? ‘Cause it’s fun. Telekinesis had been her choice. It usually came with a side of telepathy, but Constance never cared for being in someone’s head—or worse, letting someone in hers. With telekinesis there was no asking, no reliance on anyone else. You wanted it done—you willed it. The world, at least, would listen. She was about to answer Monica’s question when her own sneeze almost blew her away. Constance rushed to help her up, once again feeling that static charge at their contact.

“Sorry,” she uttered under her breath, backing away and folding her arms, tucking her hands away. Her eyes returned to Monica once more, blinking. “No, I’m human.” Constance hadn’t meant it in a supernatural way, but now that she had said it, she wondered if Monica would take it that way. “Just your typical human.” As the flames flickered again, Constance flinched, a heavy sense of dread settling her chest. “Are you able to stand?” Constance asked, taking a step away from Monica, but mindful of where the nearest streetlamp was. Shadows had already begun to stretch across the sidewalk. “Do you need a ride home?” Constance asked, hoping the answer would be no. “It’s not the safest neighborhood once night falls.” Constance looked around, her eyes flicking from one streetlamp to the next. Her palms were beginning to sweat. Was she scared of the fire? She needed to get home.

—

For once, Monica didn’t really know what to say. Constance seemed insistent that she was human, and it’s not like she had any reason to doubt her beyond the electricity that seemed to course through her veins. Still, a little part of her lingered in the possibility that Constance just wasn’t aware yet. The doppelganger would’ve loved to live in blissful ignorance like that — believing that she was human because that was all she knew. Instead, she had to spend every day convincing herself.

Pressing her hands against the cobblestone floor, Monica nodded as she came out of her daze. “Yes! I’m fine now, I think,” she said as she sprang up, jumping to her feet with a little too much vigour. What remained of her drink had spilled onto the ground when she had flung her cup, trailing down the street away from her, yet she still smelled the cookies and apples so strongly. The sudden floral scent of rose perfume joined the mix too, which Monica could only assume was coming from the woman who just stepped out of The Black Lagoon. Her senses were overwhelmed again. She wanted to go home. 

As distracted as she was, the girl still found it in herself to giggle at such a ridiculous statement. “Night has fallen and it’s barely 3pm! This place is really…something,” Monica trailed off, nerves starting to flutter in her stomach as her gaze jumped from the street lights to the dark sky to her bike. “I’m okay! I rode my bike here. But…I’ll walk with you out of the neighbourhood at least. Just to be safe.”

[laurestephens]

George died again hit the curb and ruined the axel and stranded me lord knows where while he gets a tow. [User attaches a blurry photo of the exterior of The Wormhole.] Does anyone know what there is to do around here?

[maybemonica]

Whoa ok so I kinda totally don't understand the first half of your sentence BUT I do know Worm Row!! My fav old guy in all of the town lives there!! I think there's a pretty cool pawn shop down the road from where you are....I hope you like shrimp though.

[hollow--sun]

Can we actually tone it down with the lobsters?

I get it. We're in Maine, we have lobsters. But this is getting a bit much. And it's tacky.

Thanks for your attention.

[maybemonica]

Henri!!!! Hiiiii Henri, it's me Monica!!!! Long time no see!! Well I guess in this case, see on my screen 📱

I personally love the lobsters! They're so silly looking. I'm glad they're getting use out of being a mascot of our state so they serve more purpose than just being eaten!

[arachnophelia]

Look at you, so giving! Teaching Zumba sounds fun as hell, though. You have to be pretty coordinated to do that? The only kind of physical activity I get lately is dancing at clubs, but that's definitely a little less... disciplined.

Setlist's probably just as fun, though.

[maybemonica]

Huh! I am pretty giving, aren't I??? Giving the town the gift of dance! It is fun and you should def come try it sometime!! No coordination needed, just passion!! And honestly as long as you're moving your body it doesn't matter how "disciplined" it is! In fact, I say throw discipline out the window!!

What's your fav banger to hear at the club?? Maybe I'll do a club night inspired set 🤔

[echoingmuse]

[pm] You should shout out my store! Echo.

He does make me sad too. It's quite strange to see the whole internet go to bat for him. I hope he finds community soon.

Me too! I recently made my own, which I like. I will attach it! I can't choose from all the others I like. You could get some cute stationary and perfume your letters, to make it complete. It's not that ancient though!

[maybemonica]

[pm] You own a store???? That's so cool!!! And a record store too ooo no wonder you're so cool!!

Apparently Punch found a girlfriend last month so he's chilling now!!! I am also in awe at everyone going to bat for him but I also think it's beautiful! We will always root for the underdog!

THAT'S SO COOL THANK YOU FOR INTRODUCING ME TO THAT WEBSITE. crying, i love my new gif!!

Hmm I do love cute stationary and nice perfumes....perhaps I will help make letter writing mainstream again. Bringing it back from the olden days!!

[loveandluc]

[pm] I don't really do mad, especially not at you. Mildly concnerned, though So shoot!

[maybemonica]

[pm] Sooooooo....I may have brought home a friend. And by friend I mean pet. And by pet I mean.....a creature?

I promise Kirby is sooooo low maintenance though, so don't worry!!!!

[most--fowl]

Hi, Monica!!! It is a pleasure to meet me! 🙂🙂🙂 You must be SO glad. What ever were you doing before I flew in? You're in luck, we are now hiring! 😂😂😂😂🫀😂😂 I'll have to intervie🫀w you, of🫀course! Want to come by my offi🫀ce?

Not all of the emojis are on purp--no, delete that--NUT GET THE FUCK--I'll see you around dinner! That's when my office will be open!

[maybemonica]

It's a pleasure to meet me too!! 🤠🤠🤠 Well idk exactly when you flew in but this month I've mostly been working and dancing! But I would looooovvvveeeee another job, a real job! So yes please, let me come to your office!! Or uh, offi🫀ce.

Sometimes you don't need to purposely include emojis! Sometimes they just insert themselves where appropriate. 🐬 Nuts!! 🥜🥜🥜

[vengeancedemon]

[pm] That could be any dog. Lots of dogs have this fur and three legs and chew on dolls. Perro doesn't talk to me because he doesn't know how to talk.

[maybemonica]

[pm] I SAW WHAT I SAW IN MY DREAM! YOU CAN'T GASLIGHT ME! Perro communicates to you in his own way and he's sad because you ignore him! Now let me come see your freaking dog!!!!!

[maybemonica]

[pm] Hey! I have like, eight extra bags of Doritos. Do you want some? Somebody dropped them off at the wrong house and I'm totally keeping them. They're cool ranch flavored.

[pm] HELL YEAHHHHHH!!!!! omg this is totally the universe giving back to you after stealing your fries!!! i'm sure kirby will loveeeee them too (tho i will come get them alone.....not bringing kirby back to the scene of the crime.....unless you wanted to see your godchild ofc)

[maybemonica]

TIMING: end February LOCATION: a residential area PARTIES: Cairn @cairnivore & Monica @maybemonica SUMMARY: Cairn and Monica meet at a garage sale where the clothes have a mind of their own. WARNINGS: none!

The garage sale sat at the edge of the road like it had always been there and given a light covering of snow over some of the items… maybe it had. The word FREE was written on cardboard signs littered throughout. The house behind it was closed up tight, curtains drawn, as if whoever owned it had already stepped away and wanted nothing to do with their items.

Cairn slowed without meaning to. Ever since going to the thrift store, she had been wanting to explore more clothing, find out which material she enjoyed, which colors… felt good. It was a learning process but considering how many places in town asked for money, something Cairn didn’t have, it was something that had been put aside for now. That is, until she found this place.

The clothes were piled in uneven stacks. Sweaters were stretched at the cuffs, shirts had torn seams and darkened stains. She lifted a scarf carefully, feeling the fabric between her fingers. Thick. Warmer than it should have been for how thin it looked. She could hear someone nearby rifling through the hangers. A normal sound. Cairn held onto the normalcy, letting it anchor her as she draped the scarf over her neck. It smelled faintly of cold air, not unpleasant. Almost… familiar.

Her head turned at the sight of movement in her peripheral and she could’ve sworn she noticed it, the scarf tightening around her, but that thought was quickly reasoned away as she met eyes with the stranger. “Free,” she started, testing the word. “That means no money, right?” Cairn believed so but she wanted to hear what someone else might have thought.

—

Monica loved a lot of English words, but “free” was undoubtedly one of her favourites. Humans and their stupid currency and capitalism; it was truly one of the biggest banes of her existence. Not to mention how hard it was to even earn money in the first place! So the thought of being able to get things that wouldn’t cost her anything…well, that was a dream come true.

She had heard from one of her Zumba students that a mysterious garage sale had popped up in her neighbourhood, situated in the driveway of an equally mysterious house. Signs with FREE written on them all over the place — her favourite word. This winter was proving to be a rough one, especially with the chaotic storms happening whenever they wanted to. Sure, Monica hoped that she would find a cute sweater or fancy jeans in one of these piles, but more than anything, she needed warmer clothes to help her through the cold season.

Brushing the thin layer of snow off of some vibrantly coloured jackets, Monica hummed as she sifted through the rack. The navy blue wool coat would be chic…but the neon orange ski jacket would match her existing fluorescent yellow one. Letting her mind wander, her gaze eventually met the eyes of the only other patron. Monica nodded with a grin, putting one of the hangers back on the rack. “Yes! No money! Isn’t that super awesome? I’m surprised this place isn’t packed with people. Clearly we’re the only ones smart enough to be taking advantage of this!” 

Monica’s attention went back to the coats, her brows furrowed as she realized there were no mirrors around. Then she glanced back at the stranger, and her eyes widened as an idea came to mind. “Oh! If I try both of these coats on, would you mind telling me which one you think looks better? I mean, I know they’re free and I could just take both. But I want to save some for other people too, ya know?”

—

The excitability came off the other one in a strong wave, but instead of throwing Cairn off, it grounded her. It was busy, bright, reaching—but not overwhelming. She felt herself settle around it, the way loose stones find their place when something solid presses near. It wasn’t something she wanted to move away from, just keep a comfortable distance around. While Cairn didn’t share a grin, the drop of her shoulders and the lightness in her eyes were close enough.

It made Cairn feel… accepted. Like she belonged. Her thoughts were cut off as she continued, now asking for Cairn’s opinion. “Oh… yeah, okay.” She confirmed with a nod. Cairn didn’t really believe she knew what looked better, but she was willing to try. She turned her attention to other items that may have interested her other than the scarf. As she squatted to rummage through an old box, the scarf dropped onto her arm and when she grabbed a pair of mittens, the scarf seemed to tangle.

Cairn’s brows furrowed and she shook her arm to shake the scarf loose but it wouldn’t drop. Like static cling. She grabbed the mittens and stood back up, still trying to shake it off when her attention was turned back to the girl, seeing her with a different coat. She looked in her eyes, taking in what she had been told about what clothes meant here. It was different than it was in the woods. “I think this color likes you. I notice your eyes more.”

—

Monica was well aware that not everyone would reply to her enthusiasm with equal energy, but even though this stranger seemed to be on the quieter side, they still seemed perfectly content to engage in conversation. That warmed Monica’s heart all the same. “Perf! You’re a rockstar,” she chirped to the stranger, then turned back to face the rack with a hand on her hip as she decided which coat to try on first. 

The neon orange was calling to her — literally! One sleeve moved with a sudden gust of wind, as if it were beckoning her to try it on. How could Monica say no? “This one is nice, like a traffic cone orange,” she said as she shrugged off her existing jacket, the split second exposure to the cold already enough to send a shiver down her spine. She let out a sound that could only be described as a sharp squeal, hurrying to shimmy her arms into the coat that was already clearly too big for her. “It’s fine! I like a little bit of wiggle room!” She said over her shoulder to the stranger. Though she didn’t have eyes on the other woman, Monica liked to think that she was listening intently to her constant narration.

Zipping the jacket up all the way to her chin, Monica did a dramatic twirl so that she was facing the stranger once again, the ill-fitting material shifting on her body. The other woman was in the process of trying on a scarf, except she was wearing the scarf tied around her arm. Weird! Maybe a new trend that she’d missed? Monica watched the other scanned her over, her own eyes widening as she listened to the feedback. “Whoa, I love that! The thought of a color liking me…well, I like them back!” She giggled, holding her arms out to admire the color on her and…hadn’t the sleeves been a little too long a second ago? Whatever, the color was so nice!

“Okay, I sooo appreciate your feedback! I guess I should still try on the other one just to keep things fair though,” she said, reaching up to unzip the jacket. Only, it wasn’t budging. Monica yanked a little harder to no avail, suddenly aware of how tight the jacket felt on her body. No, that wasn’t right. It had been too loose when she put it on. She furrowed her brow, opening her mouth to say something when she tripped over her own feet, an invisible force pushing her forward as the material on her body hugged her tighter. “Oof!” Monica exclaimed, just barely managing to dig her heels into the snow to stop herself from colliding with the stranger. “Ah! Sorry! Something, like, super strange is happening to me, I swear!”

—

The other’s energy was palpable and Cairn found herself wanting to step in, rather than step away. Her tone was bright, cheery, like the touch of a warm sunray on a cold morning. It wasn’t often Cairn found herself in a presence like this. Estella was similar, with her, Cairn felt lighter, like for a moment… survival was the furthest thing from her mind. A soft smile easily grew on Cairn’s lips and her eyes brightened at the other. She listened as though she was being told secrets of the world. She wasn’t sure what a traffic cone was, but was curious as to what else matched the vibrancy of this orange color. She made a note to look it up in the library later. Ever since she stepped foot into town Cairn had seen shades of colors she never knew existed. Bright—loud, but not unwanted.

Cairn’s attention sharpened. The sleeves had shifted. A breeze? No. Cairn felt none. Her brows knitted together and her smile faded. Her lips parted, ready to speak but the other’s energy disrupted her thought. Surely, she would have noticed if the sleeves had moved on their own accord. Clothing didn’t do that. Cairn’s gaze fell—to her arm, with the scarf still loosely wrapped around it. She tested it, attempting to lift her arm and felt it tighten. Something was going on.

The sound of the other drew her attention back to her, only to see her come close. Very close. Cairn’s body tensed momentarily, taking a sharp inhale with it. She shifted back in response, eyes running over the other, trying to figure out what was happening. “Are you okay?” She asked. The coat didn’t seem as loose as it once was. “Let me help.” Cairn instinctively reached for the zipper at the other’s chin only to find her left arm wasn’t budging. She fought against it, against the material. Did it snag on her coat? She’d have to tear through it.

Her free hand reached to her side, pulling out a small blade. With as much give as the scarf gave her, she brought her arm close to her hand. However, the scarf tightened as the blade drew close and twisted Cairn’s arm behind her back. She let out a grunt, and looked up at the other. Before she could speak, Cairn felt a push against her back and didn’t have enough space nor balance to stop herself from colliding into her. “The scarf,” she muttered through gritted teeth. “I need to take it off.” She pocketed the knife and reached for her neck. She only got the tip of her finger hooking at the loop of the scarf before it tightened—but not to choke. It pulled at her, as if directing her to move. Cairn obliged, feet reluctantly shifting in the frost.

—

“I’m okay! I think,” Monica managed to squeak out, her tone a mixture of embarrassment from how she seemingly almost attacked the other, and discomfort from the coat. From the moment she started jumping from body to body to live, she knew what it felt like to feel confined. There were plenty of nights where she’d stare at the ceiling, wondering why the human freedom that she sought out felt so restricting. Perhaps it was the weight of existing in a stolen body, breathing with lungs that didn’t belong to her. On those nights, she would have to claw any blankets or clothes off of her body, suddenly overly aware of the way fabric clung to skin that wasn’t hers. With the coat now wrapped tighter around her body now, Monica almost thought she was having another one of those episodes. However, glancing over at her companion, she was almost relieved to see that she wasn’t alone in the struggle. 

“Oh, so not a new fashion trend,” she mumbled to herself as her eyes fell on the coiled scarf on the other’s arm. Her eyes widened almost comically as the other brandished a small knife, blinking rapidly as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. “Oh! A weapon!” It was far from the first weapon Monica had ever seen considering how many people in Wicked’s Rest kept one on them, though it still surprised her every time. Definitely something that she shouldn’t be trusted with — or maybe she was just making excuses for the fact that holding a weapon reminded her of Dominique in the worst way possible. Regardless, the knife was going to be helpful here, so Monica had to snap out of her daze. Just as she was about to comment, the invisible force twisted the other’s arm behind her back. 

“Ah!” Monica yelped as they bumped into each other, her own arms starting to rise against her will. For a second, she thought that the invisible force was guiding her hands to the other girl’s scarf, her fingertips only grazing the wool before it escaped from her grasp. “Wh–” Monica was cut off by her arms being pulled into the same direction that the other girl was heading. Though unlike her new friend who seemed to be putting up at least some resistance, Monica hadn’t been as alert, and the force nearly swept her off of her feet. “Who is doing this!” She all but yelled as she stumbled a few feet in front of the other girl, getting dragged away from the garage sale and towards the end of the block. The jacket sleeves stretched as she was pulled, like a child being dragged away from the playground at dinnertime. “Hey, are you okay back there? Assuming you’re still behind me. I would turn to look, but this collar is, like, really pressing against my neck right now.”

—

It was better not to struggle in this case. Struggling could throw her off balance, could cause further injury than just going with the pull. It was clear the clothing was leading them somewhere. This wasn’t due to any gust of wind—it was an external force, but what was behind it? Cairn’s fingers slipped from the scarf and the material closed around her neck and she once again noted that while it tightened, it wasn’t enough to injure. Wherever it wanted to take them, it wanted to take them alive.

“I’m still here,” Cairn’s voice didn’t betray the uncertainty inside her. It wasn’t time to panic even as it swelled in her chest, urging to be released. Cairn wouldn’t. She tempered her breath to stay in control. She turned her head, watching as the house grew further away with every passing step and how the woods threatened near. Of course. That’s where it was wanting to take them. Her eyes took in the incoming trees, darting from one to the other. She tried to give the force some resistance and found herself still being tugged at, but almost free to steer. She tested its pull once more—she took a sharp left, only to be yanked almost off her feet. 

Cairn let out a soft grunt, now certain the force had some kind of sentience. The pull could be strengthened yet… it could be guided as well. So long as Cairn wasn’t attempting to move in a completely different direction its sway could be carefully maneuvered. She would use that. She held out her hand, trying to move closer to the other. “Take my hand.” She called out, voice firm, confident. She caught sight of them nearing a tree. Maybe the two of them grab onto it, maybe the clothing would give up if they resisted a bit longer. “Do you see that tree up ahead?” Cairn waited for confirmation. “When I say ‘now’, grab hold of it as hard as you can.”

—

Monica couldn’t help but flail around, her arms waving helplessly. Though they were being pulled out in front of her by the invisible force, there was no real resistance when she flung them around. Most of the control seemed to be at her feet, the girl dragging heavy, involuntary steps towards the direction of the woods. Hearing the other girl’s voice still behind her though, it helped to ease her mind somewhat. At least she wasn’t alone; at least she wasn’t imagining these killer clothes. 

Except, they weren’t actually killer clothes. At least, it didn’t seem like it. If the jacket had wanted to murder her, why hadn’t it just squeezed the crap out of her when she first put it on? Monica took a deep breath. So maybe they weren’t going to die directly at the hands of these pieces of fabric — that seemed like a good thing. Or were these clothes colluding with the real killer clothes and that was where they were being dragged too — that was a less than good thing. “Ugh!” The doppelganger groaned out loud, shaking her head as if it’d help reset her brain from the silly thoughts. There was no point in speculating now when her focus should just be on escaping. 

Her new friend thankfully seemed to be much calmer than she was, though admittedly, that wasn’t a very hard feat. Still, Monica was beyond glad that the other seemed to have a semblance of a plan, and she did her best to angle her head behind her against the jacket’s stiff collar. “Okay, lemme just…” she furrowed her brow in concentration, focusing all of her energy into digging her heels into the snow so that she could slow down ever so slightly. “I almost have you!” Monica’s finger grazed the other’s, just missing a chance at a good grasp. “Ugh,” she exclaimed again, for lack of a better word. The doppelganger’s eyes landed on the tree that the other was referring to, and she huffed as she steeled herself. “I’m gonna grab this, then…” she barely managed to wrap one arm around the trunk, squeezing hard as she immediately felt the force trying to peel her away. Her companion was not far behind now, and Monica stuck her hand out as far as she could. “Grab on!” She shouted, her feet starting to slide against the snow.

—

Cairn stretched her hand as far as she could, her shoulder tightening in exertion. But it wasn’t enough. She grunted in frustration and steadied herself. Focus. She watched as the other grew nearer to the tree and Cairn’s heart leapt the moment the other’s hand wrapped around the trunk. She did it. Now it was up to Cairn to follow through. She fought against the pull ever so gently, enough to get it to give, but not too much to cause it to pull her back. That inch was just enough—her hand met the other’s. Cairn used it to pull herself that much closer and wrap her arm around the tree as well.

“Are you okay?” Cairn asked, gently panting from the exertion. The scarf continued to pull and Cairn fingers dug themselves deeper into the trunk, the bark slipping into her nails. The pull of the scarf lessened and for a moment Cairn thought this was enough, that it had given up. “What’s your name?” It was as good a time as any for introductions even as they had wrapped themselves around a tree. “I’m Cairn—” She was unable to say anything further as she felt a tug move from her torso down her leg. As she looked down, she saw how the scarf had now wrapped itself around her legs. This was a much smarter thing than she had thought.

“I don’t think I can—” Cairn was interrupted by a yank from the scarf, pulling her off balance. Instead of fighting to hold on, Cairn let go. It was a good idea too, as the slam to the ground could have knocked her unconscious had she not had let her hands and arms take the brunt of the impact. Lifting a leg in the air, the scarf tugged her through the ground, far enough where she couldn’t reach out and grab the trunk or Monica again. As her leg fell back down, Cairn tried to get on her feet—which the scarf was more than happy to help with. It wrapped itself under her arms and yanked her up. The force was enough to disorient her for a moment. She called out to the other, wondering if she had stayed at the tree or if she too was unable to hold on.

—

Feeling the other’s hand grasp hers, Monica couldn’t help but let out an exhausted cheer. “Oh thank god,” she said as they both took the moment to catch their breaths. The sight of the both of them clinging onto this tree was probably pretty funny, but Monica couldn’t afford to laugh, not when it was taking all of her energy to hold on. “I’m okay! Well, for now!” She panted, nodding her head. “Right! Introductions. I’m Monica!” The other — Cairn — cut herself off, eyes falling to the scarf that was now tangled around her legs. “Oh my god, the clothes are fighting back!”

Monica watched in horror as Cairn fell to the ground, letting out a dramatic shriek that was probably far from helpful. “Are you okay?!” She called out, instinctively reaching her arm out again to try and help. However, that lapse in focus was all the cursed jacket needed to regain its control of her. The arm that Monica had wrapped around the tree slowly peeled off as she was pulled into the same direction as Cairn. She would’ve definitely tripped over her own feet if not for the force of the jacket keeping her up. The doppelganger let out an incoherent sound as her pace involuntarily quickened, zooming past the other who had just gotten back on her feet. “I think the clothes are mad at us!” She shouted, footsteps crunching as the jacket squeezed tighter again. 

Whatever the end goal was, Monica couldn’t figure it out. She had exerted so much energy trying to hang onto that tree that she now couldn’t find it in herself to fight back. She swore she could hear Cairn’s footsteps trailing behind her, but before she could say anything, she was jerked to an abrupt stop. “Oof! What now?” Monica whined. If the clothes were losing patience with her, then the feeling was quite mutual. A few feet in front of her stood the mouth of a cave, though she could make out nothing beyond the dark entrance. She felt the jacket tugging forward, her feet inching towards it slowly. “Uh, no way am I going in there! Jacket, at least let me wait for Cairn. Please!”

—

The scarf had made a mistake choosing to wrap around her torso rather than her arms or neck. While the tree hugging wasn’t effective, it wasn’t entirely a failure. Now it was clear the clothing had problem solving abilities. They could use force, but didn’t. If Cairn currently wasn’t being led to a dark entrance of a cave, she’d be inclined to test more about how they operated. She patted her pockets, searching for her blade. The pull of the scarf was stronger now. Monica was right. The clothing seemed to be very angry with them for trying to resist. “I’ve got a plan!” Cairn called out. She had to be quick. Monica was nearing the cave. Cairn drew the knife and looked from the scarf around her chest to Monica. One uncertain stroke and she could end up being sliced with the scarf.

Quickly, Cairn’s other hand gripped the scarf, trying to pull it away from her chest—the other brought the blade close, and struck down. She stumbled from the momentum, catching her fall. Looking around, she saw the scarf had fallen to the ground, limp. Monica’s voice pulled her attention back to her and she took off running. She didn’t know what waited for them in the cave, but considering what happened with Jenny last year—Cairn wasn’t going to wait and see. She caught up quickly and extended a hand out for Monica to take. Their fingertips graze, only for Cairn to be yanked to a stop. She looked down, seeing the remains of the  scarf wrapping around her leg. The pull wasn’t strong enough to stop her, only startled her. She stomped her foot, jostling the scarf around until it ultimately fell loose around her. She gave it a kick away from her before going back to Monica.

It was now or never. She was already practically in the cave. Cairn sprinted, leaping forward and crashing into Monica. The added weight and impact seemed to have been enough to cause the jacket to falter, letting them fall to the ground. Cairn snaked a hand around Monica’s waist and dug her heels in. “I got you.” She’d figure this out. She’d get this jacket off of Monica—but first she needed to make sure she didn’t let go.

—

Another plan! Thank god her new friend was so smart. Monica knew she was somewhat of a magnet for trouble lately, but at least the universe was giving her partners who were the epitome of cool, calm, and collected. Plus, it allowed her to be scared for the both of them, which she definitely was as her toes reached the edge of the cave’s mouth. “Think, Monica, think!” She mumbled to herself, putting one arm out in an attempt to grasp anything, only to get a handful of air.

There was a sudden shuffling of clothes coming from behind her, heavy footsteps filling the air. Monica turned her head as much as she could to see Cairn running towards her. Cairn, her saviour! Like the climax of a dramatic action sequence, Monica reached her hand out to meet the other’s in what felt like slow motion. Their fingers touched, just for Cairn to come to a stop. The doppelganger barely caught a glimpse of the scarf — notably not wrapped around the other’s body anymore — on the ground before she herself was yanked forward. Monica’s wet boots slid on the rocky surface of the cave floor as the jacket forced her across the threshold. It took everything in her not to shriek as it was happening, because surely that would not be helpful right now. But she was sliding deeper into the cave, and the dark was creeping up on her, and…

…a thud as a force collided with her, Monica’s back now pressed against the ground. She turned her head to see Cairn next to her. A hand grabbed her waist, and the doppelganger could only lie there pathetically, eyes wide with awe as Cairn worked to steady them both. Did her new friend just put her body on the line for her? “My…my guardian angel…” she whispered quietly, as if in the presence of a superhero. However, the jacket was clearly fed up with the little moment they were sharing, and the fact that Monica wasn’t moving anymore now that she had another person’s weight on her. The clothing promptly went back to tugging towards the darkness of the cave, and the girl felt it peeling off of her body like a sweater. “Oh! This might work! Keep holding me do–” she started to say, only to get cut off by the jacket now covering her face as it inched further up her body. She let out some garbled noises, hoping that Cairn would be able to translate them to “help!”

—

The pull of the jacket was wrong, and as the darkness of the cave loomed ahead of them, one could have mistaken its source of power being from the dark itself. The dirt crumbled under the sole of her boots, giving the darkness an inch. Cairn held on tighter. She could feel Monica slipping—or so she thought. As Cairn looked up, the possessed jacket had risen to cover Monica’s entire face. A sharp breath caught in Cairn’s throat. She had to move. Quickly, and with precision. This time Cairn wasn’t only holding on. She was taking Monica back. Cairn took an inch. Then another.

Cairn’s body remained low, mind recalling her pama’s lesson when a sack of their supplies had fallen into the river. She remembered how she pulled at the sack frantically, boots unable to find their grip on wet rocks. The current nearly took her—if it wasn’t for Pama’s quick grip of her collar. She could recall how that hold felt. Steady as stone even as they both stood against the current. “You don’t fight a current—you outlast it, pebble.” She learned that day there would be very little she could ever overpower, but nature didn’t reward brute strength; it favored those who bent and did not break.

A repeated clink of metal against metal caught her attention and as her eyes flicked to its source, a second zipper at the jacket’s helm glinted like a small shimmer of hope. Cairn reached for it, hand trembling as she still fought the jacket for control. It was at the moment she decided to sit, her weight tugging Monica’s body closer and she was able to grasp the zipper. It wasn’t a fastener she was accustomed to, but she knew its teeth had to be pulled apart. She gave a swift pull and it opened. It was a small split of teeth, but that was all that was needed. The jacket started to rise further up over Monica, and Cairn felt its strength diminish as it spit out the other girl, leaving them a few feet away from the mouth of the cave.

Cairn let go, the tension from her body unraveling itself as she realized they had managed to narrowly escape from the clutches of possessed clothing. “Are you okay?” Cairn asked, her breath catching between the words.

—

Though Monica was somewhat sure that the clothes weren’t out to specifically kill them anymore, it didn’t make the stifling hold that the jacket had on her any more pleasant. Her hair was getting caught in the back of the zipper and she felt like a squid caught in a net. She let out a string of incomprehensible sounds, wiggling around in hopes that it’d help speed up the jacket’s exit. Cairn changed positions next to her, or Monica could only assume that they were from the way their weight shifted. 

One minute she was taking a deep breath against the taunt fabric, the next she was feeling the jacket loosen around her. “It’s working! Something’s working!” Monica yelped, flailing her arms as she felt the jacket rise. Finally, light flooded her vision again as she popped out of the bottom of the jacket. The girl blinked aggressively as she acclimated herself to the brightness coming from the cave’s mouth. Thank god they hadn’t been dragged into the black abyss. 

After a few seconds of lying starfish-style on the cold ground, Monica sat up at the sound of the other’s voice. “Yes, I’m okay! Thanks to you!” She exclaimed, frantically crawling over to where Cairn was sitting so that she could get a better look at her. “You saved my life! I mean, I didn’t see you break out from the scarf, but I’m sure it was a super cool moment. Then you ran over like huh! And you reached out for me like ha! Then you pinned me to the ground like bam! Then you ripped that zipper off like woosh, and…” the doppelganger trailed off, rubbing the back of her neck with a bashful expression. “Heh, sorry. I’m rambling! Are you okay? And…why do you think those clothes were, like, drawn to the cave…” A part of her was curious about what was going on, but the other part of her shuddered at the mere thought of breaching the darkness. 

—

Monica sprang back to life so suddenly that Cairn’s brows lifted in mild surprise as she approached, a small smile ghosting her lips. But as Monica spoke, the intensity of it hit her all at once, like a strong gust of wind on a hot summer day. Sudden, but not unwelcome. Blue eyes lit up in quiet admiration, drawn to the sheer energy that Monica carried. She looked like she’d been through the same ordeal—a little disheveled, but vividly, unmistakably alive. Cairn found herself leaning forward, attention caught. Her gaze moved over Monica’s face, flicking between the shape of her words, the widening of her eyes, and the bounce of her curls. Like they too were charged with that same restless current.

A pause settled between them. When Cairn’s eyes met Monica’s again, the question landed and everything else collapsed into it. The absurdity of it all. Being ensnared by clothing, Monica’s frantic shouting, the way she didn’t just tell the story but became it. The smile broke fast across Cairn’s face, wide and uncontained, before a laugh burst free. She drew in a sharp breath, almost startled by it, but the laughter came again, fuller this time. Her eyes squeezed shut as she tipped her head back, laughter spilling out of her. Her arms wrapped around her stomach as the joy carried through her, loud and bright against the trees.

As the laughter faded, Cairn looked to Monica, “We should leave.” Her gaze flicked past her, toward the cave. “Before the clothes come back.” She had no idea why they had tried to pull them in, and this was one instance she didn’t care to find out. She pushed to her feet and held out a hand to help Monica up.

—

Cairn did not answer her question directly, but she didn’t have to — her reaction told Monica everything that she needed to know. She couldn’t help the huge grin that followed, a rumbling bubbling in her throat. Laughter was one of the doppelganger’s favourite sounds, whether it was coming from her or from someone else. She especially loved laughter that she had a hand in causing, and even though Monica hadn’t been the one to send the cursed clothes on their mission, Cairn was laughing at the ridiculous situation that they’d just experienced together. 

She put her own hand on her stomach as a hearty laugh escaped her lips. The sound of joy filled the woods, even echoing into the cave that they were sitting in front of. Monica clapped her hands together, which was a habit of hers whenever she couldn’t quite get her laughter to settle down. Those silly clothes — even if the temporary confinement and almost-kidnapping caused by the cursed items had been scary at first, they were both safe now. It was a story she was going to laugh about while recalling it; a story that not many other people were going to believe, but she and Cairn would always have.

Glancing over to the other girl, Monica thought that Cairn looked absolutely radiant with the genuine amusement in her eyes. It was a big difference from the person she had met back at the garage sale, yet neither side of her felt fake. Monica liked the duality. She took Cairn’s hand and helped herself up, taking one last look at the dark cave entrance with a shudder. She was right — best to leave before the clothes tangled their way back onto their bodies. “Yup, let’s go. Hm. Do you think those free clothes will still be there?”

[causefulmoon]

[pm] Wait, do you think that'd fit it? You might need to get like, a super extra large one or something. Oh. I didn't even think about that. No wonder they took off for the pizza man? Like, I would too if my leader (I'm guessing it was their leader???) did that shit, too. Nah, you're good, dw about it. It wasn't your fault or anything.

[maybemonica]

[pm] I think so!! I've poked around at Kirby's head and it seems kinda...malleable?? Like I could shove it in there if I tried hard enough. And right?!? The poor other guys just wanted some food but all they got was feet on their head while their leader (I agree it's a leader, like a mob) took it all. I know it wasn't my fault but I still feel bad!! Maybe you could order more fries and I bring my own and we eat them...together??

[necrosemancy]

Did somebody's cat get out? A big fluffy one followed me home... Sort of has a distinct meow if that helps? Just sounds like he's saying 'ow', poor guy. He won't let me pet him, but he's purring, so I'm fairly certain he's not hurt. Greyish fur- really big eyes. Anyone have a cat that matches the description?

[maybemonica]

Omg not my cat but PLEASE tell me you found that poor baby's owner?? D: 🥺🥺🥺

[most--fowl]

Tashi deleg, Wicked's Rest!!! 🙂🙂🙂 It's me. Kettle! I'm sure you've heard of me, but if you haven't, you're forgiven; I won't be in town for long.

You will be excited to hear that Wingspan Global (my very own travel agency, as you know) is now offering local bookings. I'll show you around town! It'll help me get to know it, too, since I just moved here. That shouldn't take long, of course. The town is what, 10 piddly miles? I'll be an expert before the week is over!

kllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllldddddddddddcvvvvvvvvAHSTOPGETOFFFUCKYOUI'LL

Ignore that. My dictation was interrupted. 🙂🙂🙂

By 🐦 the 🐦 way 🐦 I expect to see you (🐦🐦🐦) at MY new place. BYO🫀!!STOP I'M GOING TO PULL OUT YOUR FEATHERS ONE BY ONE YOU FUCKING

🙂

[maybemonica]

Hi Kettle!!! I have not heard of you but I'm glad I have now!!! My name is Monica :D

I'm like a super expert in this town!! Is there any chance that your travel agency is hiring??

Um. This part I can't really decipher. But I do LOVE your liberal use of emojis. Here let me return the energy!! 🤯😈😶‍🌫️🤠

🗿