#kmlaney asks

[kmlaney]

A friendship of long-standing note / Adventures and heroes we wrote / At this time of year, / I want to be clear: / Your friendship keeps spirits afloat. // Merry Christmas to you, and a New Year full of peace and plenty!

A limerick for me! Thank you so much!

[kmlaney]

Multipurpose things, 1 (The 11th. ) and 25 (Each time we climb the stairs, something changes. )

So still working on the first one (and Kabe! @kodrevas Got yours!) but here’s the second:

25. Each time we climb the stairs, something changes.

The house will try to fool you.

You must remember that. Above all else. The house will try to fool you, and if you let it you'll go mad.

You have to, a little, though. If you go mad you'll disappear but if you don't play you'll disappear too. You'll disappear and no one will remember you. It's a fine line between playing along enough to stay and not so much you lose it.

What do I mean? Like, take the kitchen. There’s always food there but no one ever goes shopping and no one comes in to bring the food. Sometimes there’s exactly what you want. I mean, exactly. If you were thinking about Oreos, they’d be in there. Or a nice sandwich, or the meatballs from your favorite restaurant. Other times there’s nothing in there you want. Sometimes, there’s nothing in there you can eat. Literally nothing. It’s all gone; gone bad or gone gone. When the house really wants to mess with you then the cornflakes box is full of actual sawdust and the milk is white paint and if you’re lucky you’ll realize it before eating a big spoonful. 

It usually only does that when you haven’t been playing.

Um, okay, so our rooms are upstairs. Let me see your card. Oh. You’re in Hemmingway. That was...nevermind. Follow me. I’ll show you where it is. No, don’t bother bringing your stuff. You won’t need it. You won’t need anything. It will be gone whether you leave it here or take it with you. I figured I’d save you the trouble of lugging it up the stairs. Plus it gives the house an easy target to change. Make it easy for the house and it's easier on your brain. Each time we climb the stairs, something changes. 

Something changes. Yeah, every time. I don’t know why. It just does. Either way, up or down, so technically, it’s each time we use the stairs. Maybe it’s a trigger point or maybe the house just figures we’ll be out of the area for a while so it can really screw with us and score some points or whatever it gets out of the game.

A game. I think it’s a game. I got here because it was a show. It was a reality show like Big Brother...you don’t have that show? Well, it was a show where a bunch of people are all together in a house and they filmed everything and then made a show about what happened. At least that’s what they said. They must have lied, though, because it has to be way longer than the six weeks or ten weeks or however many weeks it was supposed to be.

There were...three others? Four? I can’t quite remember. It’s hard to remember the house doesn’t want me to remember. There’s always five in the house. You, me...I’ll let the others introduce themselves. I--yes I know their names, we live together and you’re our newest roommate. You’ll like it here. Everything’s taken care of.

Well, anyway, here’s your room. Hemmingway. It used to be...nevermind. A bit creepy with the taxidermy, but the bed is nice. No, I never slept in it but all the beds are nice. What? No, I, uh, I wouldn’t recommend it. We don’t really...invite others to our rooms to sleep.  

Yeah, see, your stuff’s in your closet. And drawers, if you want to look. That's what I meant. Things change. Make it easy for the house and it's easier on your brain, if you know what I mean. Your stuff won’t be there for long, but it won’t matter anyway. The variety, I mean. What you need will always be there, but it’s always the same. I hope you like what you’re wearing today because it’s what you’ll be wearing from now on. It doesn’t get dirty. Or if it does it gets cleaned when you take it off. It will be ready for you when you need it. 

No I don’t know how, okay? I don’t know how it works, I don’t know how any of it works. I never did. No one does. I just know that I haven’t needed a haircut since I got here and my nails don’t grow and I get hungry and eat but never need to use the toilet which is a good thing because there aren’t any bathrooms and I don’t remember the people who were in the house when I got here but they’re not the same ones as live here now and I know it but I can’t explain how I know and maybe I don’t really know after all because the House tries to fool me and it will try to fool you, too. 

It will fool you.

The house always wins.

[kmlaney]

41. comfort food, character of your choice.

First thing that came to mind: Pan Ju Lei and Cookie

She poured the tea. The spout was terrible. It splashed tea on the table and into the saucer--which was no doubt why it was there--saving the tablecloth but making a mess around the cup. Ju Lei set the teapot down with a sigh. She picked up the metal soup spoon--the kind for customers, not the ceramic one she kept to herself--and sampled Cookie’s soup.

It was a nice clear chicken broth. There were some bits of chicken at the bottom along with carrot and peas. Flat noodles--he insisted they were dumplings but they definitely weren’t proper dumplings--swam in the golden liquid. She closed her eyes and savored a second spoonful.

It wasn’t exactly like the soup she remembered as a child. It didn’t have the same vegetables or seasonings or even the right kind of noodle. It was different in nearly every way. Yet, always, it tasted like home. 

Cookie stuck his head in from the kitchen. “So? Soup good?”

“The soup is good,” Ju Lei replied. She set the spoon down for a sip of tea, which was also good despite the lousy teapot.

Cookie snorted. “You always say that,” he said.

“Because it is always good,” Ju Lei said. “It would be better with duck, though.”

“You and ducks. Always ducks,” Cookie grumbled. “You know how hard it is to grow ducks in Nevada?”

Ju Lei smiled over her teacup. “Yes, I do.”