#ch:maud

[bloodlines-if]

Hiii, Dream! Hope you've been doing well and there haven't been any negative asks. . .

Anyways - Feel free to answer how you will to this RO ask!

So this is more on War Correspondent!MC. Got 2 options/scenarios, so tis your pick! :3 kinda picture soft!MC but no worries if sassiness calls for it!

Option 1) Say MC had been getting nightmares of the war near a particular day when sleeping alone. Dark bags under their eyes, flinching at loud noises and spacing out a little.

And just when RO might be concern - because they found this out from personnel files, investigations or even spying - MC ends up coming up to them, nervously asking if it would be okay if MC sleeps with them at their place (can be taken sexually or not - MC just wants to be near RO becuz safe space!)

How would the ROs respond to this? 👀 Maybe in a fresh rela where they're dating but not yet moving in.

(god, maybe even add Maud's reaction, where MC approaches Maud first and ask if they can sleep tgt like the old days. At least for a day.)

Option 2) MC has been suspicious as of late. They were stocking up food, telling RO(s) that they'll be away for a couple days. And yet, there had been no jobs or work assignments? MC even took days off, which is even more suspicious! Finally, RO(s) find out that MC usually hold up in their home during this time of the year.

So RO goes to MC's house, which is suspiciously quiet. No lights, no noises, just dead silence. But just as RO(s) close the front door and inspect a little, they got tackled! Pinned down, straddled on and when the lights come on, there's MC straddling them, their elbow against their neck.

And mind you, this is soft MC - one who, perhaps, is more lamb than vicious, more on shy and genteel mannerism than the fierce, tense version currently pinning RO down. But upon realizing just who MC pinned down, they stiffened up before pulling their arm back, flustered.

"O-Oh! [RO], I'm so sorry! I thought you were intruder! I'm just a bit...wound up a-and I didn't want you finding out...!"

MC ends up explaining how during this time of year, they end up being a bit more 'sensitive' to their surroundings and nerves from their experience at war. It's a strange, perhaps nonsensical phenomenon - but it left MC needing to just stay home around this time of the year.

So MC, while still straddling RO and squirming a little out of nervousness, ends up looking guilty and go "I'm...sorry for not telling you sooner. A-Are you mad?"

Sorry for the long ask fjbfkf ;u; thanks for taking the time to read this.

Haha all good✨ I really like Option 1 🖤

Ace: You show up at their door, exhausted. "Can I... stay tonight? Sleep here?" Ace sees the dark circles. The way you flinched at a car backfiring earlier. "Baby, of course. Yuh don't even have to ask." Pulls you inside, wraps arms around you immediately. "Yuh having nightmares again?" All you can do is nod against their chest. "I got you. Every night if yuh need." Leads you to bed without hesitation. "You’ll always be safe with me I promise." Holds you close all night. Protective and warm. Chasing away the darkness.

Arden: You knock nervously. "Can I sleep here tonight? I've been having... trouble." Arden takes in your appearance. The exhaustion. The jumpiness. Already knew from checking records after noticing your behavior. "Anniversary coming up." Statement. Not question. "Yeah." "Come in." Steps aside. "You should have asked sooner. Sleep deprivation makes symptoms worse." Gets you settled in their bed. After a moment of silence. Starts humming. Soft, wordless melody. The sound is grounding. Unexpected. Gentle. "You're safe here." Still humming quietly. "Sleep." The lullaby continues until you finally drift off.

E: You arrive at their penthouse. "Can I stay tonight? Sleep with you?" E's been watching you deteriorate all week. Already pulled your records. Knows what's coming. "You should have come sooner. You look exhausted." Firm but concerned. "You should stay the whole week." Gets you into bed. Starts reading some papers for work. After some hesitation pulls you against them. Their body temperature rises deliberately. Draegon warmth seeping into your tense muscles. Relaxing them. "I'm here." Arms tight and protective around you. The comfortable heat works like magic. Melting away the cold fear. E continues looking over their paper not because they’re planning to stay awake all night to watch over you and holds you steady through the night.

Luz: You knock. "Can I sleep here? I've been having nightmares about the war—" "Ah." Luz pulls you inside immediately. "I don't understand guilt about violence. Killing is just... necessary sometimes. But I understand you need some comfort." Cups your face gently. "What do you need from me? Distraction?" Knowing look. "Or just someone to hold you tonight?" "Hold me. Please." "Then that's what you'll get." When you're lying down, their hand pats your back in small, steady rhythms. Like soothing a child. Unexpectedly tender. "There we go. Just breathe." The gentle pats continue. Grounding and calming. The soft, repetitive comfort works, pulling you toward rest.

Maud: You knock on her door late. "Can I... can we sleep together? Like we used to?" "What—are you okay? You look like shit—no wait, not shit, just tired—did something happen? Is someone after you? Do I need to kill someone? Because I will! I'll—" She pats your shoulders awkwardly. "Just nightmares, Maud." "Oh! Oh okay yeah!" Pulls you inside. Looking around nervously. "Like old times! Remember when we'd hide with our blankets inside the closet and you'd… wait that was when we had to hide from Ivo and Dee but the other times! The good couch times!" Drags you to bed. Still rambling. But her chaotic energy is familiar. Safe. She grabs your hand tight. "Got you. I won’t let go."

[bloodlines-if]

I need more about your tiny maud art

Like this?👀

[bloodlines-if]

I need to know maud happiest halloween as kid with her big sibling

Smoll scene :) I think I made it a little bit too dark, so please don't read it if some of the warnings trigger you.

TW: bullying of a minor, suicide mention/encouragement, discrimination/prejudice against supernatural beings, emotional abuse by authority figure

The cafeteria smells like something that died three days ago.

Maud sits alone at the corner table. Again. Her tray holds food she won't eat because the moment she reaches for it, someone will knock it over. They always do. Like clockwork.

"Freak," Jessica whispers. Loud enough for the whole table to hear. Loud enough for the next table over to hear. "My mom says people like her should be locked up. That Umbras are all psycho killers waiting to happen."

The others laugh.

Maud makes her eyes go wide. Blank. Stares without blinking until Jessica looks away first. Holds it just long enough to make her uncomfortable. To make her wonder if maybe her mom was right.

It only makes things worse.

"See?" Jessica hisses to her friends. "Told you. Total freak."

Mrs. Henderson pulls Maud aside after class. Again. The teacher's perfume is too sweet. Makes Maud's nose itch. Makes her want to disappear into the shadows pooling in the corner.

"Maud, why can't you get it together? Are you even studying? Of course you're not... why do I even bother. Just try bette next time, okay? And stop with the... staring thing. At this rate, you'll never amount to anything. Do you understand?"

Maud nods. Doesn't point out that she really tried this time. Doesn't matter. Never matters when you're the wrong kind of different.

She stops listening halfway through. She's heard it before. Different teachers. Same script. Hopeless. Disturbed. Wasting potential. Needs intervention.

But Halloween. Halloween is different.

On Halloween, monsters belong. Killers get celebrated. Scary is good. Maud can walk down the street with blood on her face and people smile. Hand her candy. Tell her she looks amazing.

For one night, being frightening is the whole point.

This year she's going as a killer clown. Spent three weeks planning it. Black around the eyes that bleeds down her cheeks. Red smile carved too wide across her mouth. Fake blood dripping from razor-sharp teeth she fashioned from plastic forks and paint.

She practices the smile in the bathroom mirror every night. Watches her face transform from weird kid everyone avoids into something powerful. Something that makes people feel what she feels every day.

Fear.

Then you say you're too old for trick-or-treating.

Just like that. Casual. Like you're discussing what's for dinner.

"I'm sixteen, Maud. Teenagers don't do the candy thing anymore."

Maud doesn't cry. Hasn't cried in years. But something in her chest goes cold and small and tight.

So she goes alone.

The streets are full of younger kids. Parents hovering close. Everyone in groups. Families. Friends.

Maud walks by herself, pillowcase clutched in one hand. The makeup took an hour to get right. The costume looks perfect. But no one's there to see it except strangers who drop candy in her bag without really looking at her face.

Jessica and her friends catch her three blocks from home.

Of fucking course they do.

"Look," Jessica calls out, her voice carrying across the darkening street. "It's the psycho dressed like a—" She stops. Squints. "Wait, is that even a costume? Maybe that's just her real face."

The others laugh. Circle closer. Maud's hand tightens on her pillowcase.

"Where's your babysitter?" Another one asks. Emma, Maud thinks. Or Emily. They all blur together in her mind. "Oh wait, even your own family doesn't want to be seen with you." That's it. Maud swings her fist.

"There you are!" Your voice cuts through the darkness. Slightly out of breath. Slightly too loud. Maud halts.

She turns. You're really here. In jeans and a hoodie. Not a costume. But there.

Jessica's smile falters. "Oh. You actually have... someone you're with."

"Yeah," you say, stepping forward until you're shoulder-to-shoulder with Maud. "She does. Problem?"

Jessica and her pack melt away into the darkness. Prey recognizing predators.

"Thought you said you were too old for this," Maud manages. Her voice sounds strange. Thick.

You shrug. "Changed my mind. You know what Tolkien said—'It's the job that's never started that takes longest to finish.' Figured we should start walking now before all the good candy is gone."

You walk together. Just the two of you. Hit every house on the street, then double back through the rich neighborhood where people give out full-size candy bars. You hold Maud's pillowcase when it gets too heavy. Points out the houses with the best decorations. Makes stupid jokes that aren't funny but make Maud laugh anyway.

Best candy haul she's ever had. Best night, period.

By the time you reach Ace's house, Maud's face hurts from smiling behind her clown makeup.

The Reid house glows warm from within. Ace opens it before Maud can knock, grinning with that easy warmth that makes everything feel safer.

"There's the killer clown," they say, stepping aside. "Nice work on the teeth. Creepy as hell. Ma and Pa will absolutely hate it."

Inside, Tasha and Keisha are sprawled on the couch arguing over which movie to watch.

Mrs. Reid emerges from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel, calling out in that distinctive lilt, "Maud, MC, dat you? Food almost—" She stops dead when she sees Maud.

Stares. Blinks.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph," she breathes, one hand going to her chest. "Child, what dem do to yuh face?"

"It's Halloween makeup, Ma," Ace says, barely containing his laughter. "She's a killer clown."

"A killer what now?" Mrs. Reid moves closer, squinting at Maud's makeup like it might be contagious. "Yuh telling me yuh painted dis on purpose? All dis blood and... Lord have mercy, are those supposed to be teeth?"

"I made them from plastic forks," Maud offers proudly.

"Plastic forks." Mrs. Reid shakes her head slowly.

"Ma—" Ace starts.

"No, no, I'm not finished." But she's smiling now, that warm smile that makes everyone feel safe. "Maud, baby, dat's quite impressive work. Yuh have very steady hands." She pauses. "Terrible taste, but steady hands."

Mr. Reid emerges from the kitchen carrying a pot of rice and peas. Sees Maud. Nearly drops the pot.

"Marcia," he says urgently. "Why there's a dead clown in mi living room?"

"She's not dead, Pa," Keisha calls from the couch. "She's undead. There's a difference."

"Oh, well, dat makes it so much better," Mr. Reid says, setting the pot down with exaggerated care. "Marcia, did we invite de zombie apocalypse for dinner?"

Maud giggles. Actually giggles.

"Can I keep it on?" she asks. "For the movie after?"

Mrs. Reid and Mr. Reid exchange a look. The kind of look parents share when they're about to allow something they don't approve of.

But then Mrs. Reid smiles. "Alright, baby. Yuh can keep yuh zombie face. But careful with mi good couch, yuh hear? If dat paint get on mi cushions, yuh gonna need more than makeup to look scary."

After dinner when it's time to pick a movie, Ace gestures to Maud. "Your choice."

"Nothing too scary," Tasha adds. "Ma will come check, and if it's too much blood and guts, she'll make us turn it off. Trust me."

Maud picks The Lost Boys. Vampires and outcasts and found family. Perfect.

Halfway through, when Maud is absorbed in the screen, candy wrappers scattered around her feet, Ace nudges you. Jerks their head toward the kitchen.

You slip away quietly. Ace leans against the counter, arms crossed, studying you with that look they get when they know there's more to a story.

"So," they say quietly. "Real reason you decided to go?"

You don't answer right away. Instead you reach into your jacket pocket. Pulling out the crumpled piece of notebook paper you've been carrying all night.

Even in the kitchen's bright light, the words are ugly.

Freak. Freak. Freak. Kill yourself, monster. The world would be better off.

The handwriting is looped. Girlish. Probably Jessica's.

"Found it in her backpack when I went to grab my headphones," you say. Voice flat. The tone you use when something matters too much to show it. "There were others. This was just the newest one. I thought it had stopped. I tried to make it stop multiple times. I thought it was under control."

Ace takes the note. Reads it. For a moment, the easy warmth is gone, replaced by something harder. Sharper.

You both look toward the living room. Toward Maud laughing at something Keisha said, her killer clown makeup smudged but her smile genuine. Real.

"She's thirteen," you continue, watching your sister. "Just a kid. She should get to be a kid. Not deal with shit like this just because she's an Umbra."

You may not always get along but she's still your little sister. Still your responsibility.

Ace folds the note. Tucks it in their own pocket. Neither of you mentions calling parents or teachers or anyone who's supposed to handle this kind of thing. You both know how well that works.

"You did good," Ace says finally. Squeezes your shoulder. Tomorrow you'll have to think of other ways to make that Jessica bitch pay. But for today, you should focus on your sister.

You rejoin the others. Squeeze onto the couch between Tasha and Maud.

Later, when Mrs. Reid drives you home, Maud clutches her pillowcase full of candy and asks, "Can we do this again next year?"

"Yeah," you say. "We can do this again next year."

And you mean it.

Maud falls asleep in the car, clown makeup smudged, candy clutched close.

Tonight, for a few hours, she was scary-on-purpose Maud. Monster-by-choice Maud.

And nobody looked away. Everyone actually liked it.

Tomorrow, the face in the mirror will be just Maud again. Weird Maud. Freak Maud. Monster Maud.

School will be the same.

But tonight was different. That matters.

[bloodlines-if]

Valentine day is here how the ros and maud would spend the day

I forgot to post that on Valentine’s Day so after the shock of Chapter 1, enjoy a little fluff 💝

Ace: Plans a whole day. Breakfast in bed with your favorites. Flowers - not roses, something you actually like (if you like roses you’ll get roses but you know what I mean). Takes you to their family's restaurant for dinner. Ends the night at home. Slow dancing in the living room. "Happy Valentine's Day, baby. I love yuh."

Arden: "It's a commercialized holiday." Does not to care. But if you do? Secretly googles what to do on Valentine’s Day. You'll find your favorite drink and favorite pastry waiting at the clinic. No note. Later, Arden awkwardly hands over a small box. "It's practical." It's a custom medical kit with your name engraved. In the evening: "I suppose we could get dinner… If you want?" Takes you to a quiet place away from Valentine crowds.

E: When in love with you? Goes all out. Reservations at the most exclusive restaurant in Sordia. Designer gift wrapped. "Only the best for what's mine." Takes you to a private rooftop dinner. Every detail is of course meticulously planned. Gives you your favorite jewelry. Image matters. But also genuinely wants you to feel valued.

Luz: Makes it theatrical. Rose petals everywhere. Champagne. Candlelight. Takes you to Rogue - private room, just you and them. "Tonight is about worshipping you properly." Gifts are personal and expensive. Knows exactly what you want. "You're mine, and I'm yours. Happy Valentine's Day, amore." Imagine being love bombed 24/7 the whole day.

Maud: Either spends it with Kai or just to be annoying, I could see her tag along with MC + RO (in an alternate universe)

[bloodlines-if]

Similar to the dying MC ask but how would the ROs react to Leech getting badly injured jumping in front of them to protect them? Actually can you include Maud too? She's my favorite character.

Aww I love that you guys love Maud :D

I think I already answered that for the RO's just don't know where, sry :(

But I remember it was something that they would be annoyed/pissed since they have regenerating abilities and wouldn't die so easily from one wound (besides Luz hates being protected) + they have powers to stop any bullet/evade an attack. Like MC please, you can die more quickly, don’t be stupid :/

Ace would feel so guilty and just start training even harder. They’d literally beg MC to NEVER do anything like that ever again. They're the proffessional ;)

Maud: Watches you take the hit. Goes still. "MC?" Her voice comes out like a whisper. "Get up." You don't move. Blood spreading. Maud starts laughing. Manic. Desperate. "No no no, wake UP!" Drops beside you, hands shaking. "You don't get to leave before me. You're all I got!" Applies pressure to wounds. "Please, MC. Please." Then to whoever hurt you: "I'm going to make you regret being born." *indescribable torture starts* Later, at your bedside Maud is uncharacteristically quiet: "Don't ever do that again." Grabs your hand really tight that it hurts. Her eyes look eerie. "You're all I have, so don't fucking leave me."

[bloodlines-if]

The thing is, I just wanted to thank you for creating this masterpiece, hic hic, it's so healing and so captivating. (Sorry for my poor English vocabulary, English isn't my native language). But if you don't mind, I'm a little curious, and more accurately, I really like my beloved Maud, even though she suddenly… passed away so unexpectedly. Like, I didn't think about it. And I really admire the dynamic bond between these two siblings, wondering where you got that idea from and whether Maud's death was a plot twist or the truth, I don't want to accept it aaa.ToT

Awww thank you so much nonnie!! 🖤

Funnily enough the first thing I figured out about Maud was her death. Everything else got built backwards from that.

The initial idea actually came from Hamilton xD Specifically the “why do you write like you’re running out of time” song, and the fan theory that the characters who die young are the ones who move fastest through their songs. Like there’s something in them that already knows. So they’re frantically cramming everything in, always singing/rapping quickly.

I loved that idea too much to not steal it. Maud’s chaotic energy, the way she interrupts herself, jumps between topics, can’t sit still etc. part of that is her mental health deteriorating and her adhd. But part of it is also that. She’s running out of time and she doesn’t know it. She just unknowingly feels it. Like something in her is always rushing, always grabbing at the next thing before she loses it. She was never going to slow down. That was never an option for her. And I think that makes it hurt a little more✨😌

[bloodlines-if]

Dear author how Maude would react to an mc who is mean and indifferent to her but when she breaks into their apartment room she sees something the desk near their bed. A photo of child maud smiling brightly? 🥺🥺

Maud's tearing through your room when she spots it, a faded photo on your nightstand. Little Maud. Gap-toothed. And grinning. Hugging a stuffed horse.

She goes completely still. "What the hell..."

Picks it up with trembling fingers. You kept this? After all the times you acted like she's just an inconvenience?

Maud starts laughing. High, manic laughter that turns into something raw and painful. "You fucking liar."

The laughter cracks into something between a sob and a giggle. Clutches the photo to her chest, rocking slightly.

"Boom," she whispers to herself, making explosion sounds. "There goes my heart. Kaboom."

She sinks onto your bed, photo clutched against her chest, and just... waits.

When you find her later, she's sitting cross-legged on your bed, photo in her lap, grinning that manic smile that doesn't reach her eyes.

"Found your little secret, big sibling."

[bloodlines-if]

The cold wakes you before the alarm.

Not the artificial chill of climate control or the damp creep of Sordia's polluted fog. Real cold. The kind that sneaks through window seals and settles in bones despite three blankets and Uncle Ben's insistence on keeping the heat at a reasonable level.

You blink at the ceiling of Uncle Ben's spare room. Still not used to it. The quiet. The safety. The way morning light filters through curtains that actually close all the way instead of hanging crooked on broken rods.

Three months you've been here. Three months of Uncle Ben trying too hard to make you comfortable while pretending he knows what he's doing with two traumatized kids.

You sit up. Check on Maud automatically. She's still asleep in the other bed, hair spread across the pillow, face peaceful in a way it never is when she's awake. She still hoards food under her mattress even though Uncle Ben's fridge is always full.

You're about to lie back down when you notice it.

The light is wrong. Different.

You slide out of bed, bare feet silent on carpet that's worn but clean. Move to the window. Pull back the curtain.

Snow.

Not the grey slush that you see on the streets. Not the chemical-yellow ice that forms in alleys. This is white. Actually white. Falling from a sky that's usually too polluted to produce anything but acid rain.

"Holy shit," you whisper.

"Language," Uncle Ben says from the doorway, but he's smiling. Not mad. Never actually mad even when you fuck up. Even when you test him. "Pretty, isn't it?"

You don't answer. Pretty feels like a trap. A distraction before the other shoe drops.

"First real snow in three years," Uncle Ben continues, moving to stand beside you. He's already dressed in a very ugly red sweater with a Christmas tree stitched on it. Already holding two mugs of hot chocolate. "You like the snow?"

You take the mug he offers. It's warm against your palms. Suspicious. "A little."

Liar. You don’t like snow. You remember Maud crying because her shoes had holes and her feet went numb. Remember being seven years old sitting alone at the bus stop waiting and thinking snow was beautiful right up until it wasn't.

You take a sip. "Why are you awake?"

"Because it's December first," he says, like that explains anything. "And I have plans."

Plans. Great. Adults and their plans. Usually never ends well.

"What's happening?" Maud asks, voice thick with sleep. She's sitting up now, eyes wide and wary. Always wary. Always expecting the next bad thing.

"It's snowing," you tell her. "Come look."

She hesitates. Checking if it's safe. If this is a trick. But she gets up. Moves to the window. Her breath catches when she sees it.

"Is it real?" she whispers.

"Very real," Uncle Ben confirms. "And I was thinking. Since today's December first and all. Since this is your first December here with me. Maybe we could start some traditions. Make this month special."

You almost laugh. Almost. You don't trust special. Special in your experience means someone's about to take something away.

But Maud's face has lit up in a way you haven't seen in months. Years maybe.

"What kind of traditions?" she asks.

Uncle Ben grins. "Well, for starters. How about we go play in that snow before it melts or gets contaminated or whatever else Sordia does to ruin nice things."

"Play?" The word feels foreign. The rare times you played was ‘Horsies‘ with Maud.

"Play," he confirms. "Snowmen. Snow angels. Snowball fights. All that winter fun."

Maud is looking at you. That look that says please. That says just this once. That says I'm tired of waiting for bad things.

You remember something from one of the books at the library Uncle Ben dragged you to. Dickens, maybe. Some Victorian asshole going on about Christmas spirit. "For it is good to be children sometimes, and never better than at Christmas."

Stupid quote. Naive. But you can’t deny that you’re a little curious.

Twenty minutes later you're on the roof of Uncle Ben's building wearing a coat that actually fits. That's still weird. Not stolen. Not pulled from a donation bin. Yours.

Maud's bundled up beside you, drowning in a puffy jacket that's slightly too big. Uncle Ben said she'll grow into it. Like he's planning for you both to still be here next winter. Like he's not going to wake up one day and realize two broken kids aren't worth the trouble.

The snow crunches under your boots. Foreign sensation. Clean and cold and nothing like the slush you remember.

The roof is empty. Just you three and the snow and Sordia's grey skyline in the distance. The neon signs are still visible through the falling white. The Han Tower's golden red gleam. A stark reminder that beauty doesn't last in this city.

"Okay," Uncle Ben announces, clapping his hands together. "Lesson one. How to make a proper snowball."

He demonstrates. Scooping snow. Packing it. His movements practiced. Easy. Like he's done this a thousand times.

You copy him. The snow is cold against your bare palms. Uncle Ben offered you gloves but you refused. Need to feel it. Need to know it's real.

Maud makes her own snowball, tongue poking out in concentration. It's lopsided. Imperfect. She looks so proud of it once it’s done.

"Great," Uncle Ben says. "Now. The most important part of snowball fighting. The sneak attack."

He wings his snowball directly at you. It hits your shoulder, exploding in a shower of white powder.

You freeze. Every instinct screaming that you fucked up somehow. That the game is over. That punishment comes next.

But Uncle Ben is laughing. Not mean. Not mocking. Just happy. And he's already making another snowball. Already dodging as Maud throws hers at him with terrible aim and fierce determination.

"Come on, kid," he calls to you. "You gonna let a nine-year-old and an old man win?"

Something breaks a little. You feel the careful wall you've been maintaining since you started your new life with your uncle start to crack.

You scoop up more snow. Pack it. Throw it hard.

The snowball hits Uncle Ben square in the chest.

"There we go!" he shouts, delighted. "Now we've got a fight!"

Maud shrieks as both of you target her next. She runs, slipping slightly on the snow-slick roof, laughing in a way you haven't heard since before.

The three of you chase each other through the snow. Throwing. Missing. Occasionally landing hits that make everyone laugh harder. Your fingers go numb. Your nose runs. Your cheeks hurt from smiling.

This is stupid. Childish. A waste of time when you should be planning. Preparing. Staying ready for when this ends like everything ends. But you keep getting distracted.

By Uncle Ben's terrible aim and his ridiculous war cries while trying to build a snow fort. By Maud tackling you into a snowdrift, giggling uncontrollably. By the way the snow makes Sordia look almost clean.

And maybe.

Maybe Dickens had a point.

Maybe it's okay to be children sometimes.

Even in Sordia. Even in December. Even when you know nothing good lasts.

Just for today. Just for December first.

You let yourself play.