I just did my god only knows how many play through of the 3rd book, and can I just say... I love being Verda's friend. It really broke my heart in book two he took finding out so poorly. I'm glad we got to make things right with him quickly. I just love this man had his whole family. I really can't wait to see him interact more with the agency and get to find the truth about Eric. The fact that my Verda BFF route is also my Morgan route just makes it that much better. ✨️ I am excited to reunite with my boy in book 4.
Oh, M and Verda's dinner party scene was SO much fun to write, lol! M had no interest in trying to make a good impression with him, unlike the rest of the vampires.
Verda enjoyed that honesty, lol!
It'll be interesting to see how players react and choose to go with the Verda and Agency thing...interesting indeed...
I wonder how things will be in the route where Tina/Verda don't learn the truth. Like, we already know Tina is going to be the new detective... How will she feel when the UB takes a case she's working on, just like when they did when the MC was detective? Is she going to be angry they "stole" their case or something like this? Like just imagine she's working on a case and then her friend, former detective gets in and says "so hey, the agency is taking this case now"... I wonder If this will complicate their relationship or idk
Tina: “Yo detective! Verda! Look what I made!” *Puts laptop on the front desk and clicks play on a youtube video.*
Video title: Markiplier going “YOU CLOSE!?” for 5 minutes.
Verda: *Prays to whoever diety is willing to listen to end his suffering.*
Detective: “RIP Unus annus.”
Douglas: *looking up from his phone very sceptically.*
featuring: alma greene/mason; tina poname, soloman verda
word count: 1.2k
note: a @wayhavensummer entry for the 6/15 prompt flags! Tina ropes Alma and Verda into helping with a local Pride event; Alma and Mason discuss labels.
“So I’ve been thinking about Pride,” Tina bursts into the lab like a shot.
The echo of the metal door against the wall does little to shake her resolve, but it has all but assaulted her precious little scientists. With a smile of partial apology, she makes way for her designated stool (Verda insisted on giving her a specific place to sit while visiting the lab after a rogue elbow smushed one too many evidence samples).
“Hi Tina,” Alma and Verda chime in unison, shaking off the sudden fright enough to focus on their work again. The monotone chorus of their greeting never fails to make her giggle.
Once she’s perched, legs and arms safely crossed, she continues the thought that came to her only moments earlier. No idea is too big for Tina, and she likes to believe her ideas aren’t too big for Wayhaven either.
“As I was saying, Pride Month is almost upon us. Yeah, sure, we usually go into the city and attend their festival, but Wayhaven is growing, and we have plenty to celebrate locally!”
Verda, safety goggles still on, slides his gaze over to Alma. “She’s going to ask us to help plan a Pride festival, isn’t she?”
“That’s definitely what this is building to,” Alma replies.
“Wayhaven’s never done anything like this, and we’re changing that this year.” Tina hazards a stretch, extending her arms high above her head where there are surely no critical pieces of evidence to defile. “Ah, I do love it when a plan comes together. Thank you, brainiacs!”
“But,” Alma begins, her words nearly failing as Tina stands and heads to the door, “but we don’t have a plan! We didn’t do anything!”
Tina rests her hand on the door’s handle, turning to Alma with a smile she knows her friend won’t be able to resist. “Alma, babe, just find some queer artisans, maybe some sponsors. Verda, you and Eric work on a few local places for food vendors. I’ll worry about the entertainment.”
With a wink, she wishes them goodbye and good luck, and her stride isn’t slowed down one bit by the echo of Verda asking Alma what the fuck just happened.
Crouched between counters in the tiny kitchenette with a cropped white t-shirt in front of her and surrounded by paints, Alma's putting the finishing touches on her pride outfit when the front door opens and closes with a sharp, quick sound.
“Where the hell are you?” Mason, quiet and confused. She forgot he was coming over after his patrol.
“Kitchen!” She stands, trying not to slide on the sheet she put down to protect the linoleum. This is a rental after all.
In an instant, Mason’s leaning over the counter (comfortable; he looks so comfortable in her space now that it might as well be his home too), eyeing her mess with a rare streak of curiosity.
“Whatcha got there?”
It takes everything in her to resist mumbling "a smoothie."
“I’m, uh, painting a t-shirt for the Pride festival.” Alma holds it up as carefully as she can. “Putting the ‘bi’ in biology.”
‘Bi’ and ‘biology’ are painted pink, purple, and blue. Not a bad job if she’s being honest.
“Cute,” he smirks. “Don’t really get needing to label it though. You like what you like—simple.”
She places the shirt back down to dry and steps around to his side of the counter. A quick kiss to the corner of his lips, another proper kiss when he turns to meet her face.
“It can be simple, but it’s not for everyone. There’s more to it than just a label, at least for me.” She leads him to the couch by his hand. "You've never thought about it?"
She knows the answer before he gives it.
"I don't need to think about it. It's just something that," he pauses, face scrunched in search of the right word—it doesn't seem to find him, "is."
After arranging their limbs in the tried and true way, a position that doesn't grate on Mason but allows for maximum cuddling and includes interlocked fingers, Alma continues her reasoning in the gentle expository tone she takes with him so often.
“For me, there’s a lot of comfort in having a name for my attraction. There’s this sense of community when you meet someone that’s different in the same way you are. It’s like this instant relief. A sense of safety.”
Mason nods. Safety, relief–feelings to which he clings once he finds them–he gets that.
“You might be surprised what you’re comfortable with after a little research.” She tugs a blanket over both of them, then grabs the remote to turn the TV’s volume almost all the way down. “Ready for several hours of Ancient Aliens?”
“Alma, I cannot emphasize how much I hate this show.”
“And yet you still drag your ass over here every single week to rip it to shreds with me. It's called a hate-watch for a reason, sweetheart.”
Mason shifts under her legs, half-grin at odds with his almost imperceptible grunt of defeat.
Work and festival planning, festival planning and work. Alma hardly remembers the last decent conversation she had with someone that wasn’t Tina. Even after weeks of non-stop planning, the day of Wayhaven’s Pride falls upon her with all the giddiness of a child waiting for their birthday.
She paces by the window, waiting for her team. Unit Bravo insisted on picking her up and attending as a group. For work. For her safety. No one mentions how, conveniently, they're a group of queer friends and that in itself is worth celebrating.
"Always the no labels thing with these guys," she huffs to herself just as the dark SVU pulls into the parking lot.
In the time it takes Adam to park and Alma to move to the door, Mason is already there when she opens it. He leans against the frame, hands in the pockets of his jacket.
She takes it in stride. One gets used to turning around to a room presumed empty and finding a vampire or two after the umpteenth time.
“How does the shirt look?” She does a little spin and smiles at his only-slightly-distracted nod of approval.
“Nice work, space girl.”
“Thank you.” Alma stretches up for the customary hello kiss, hand tugging at his jacket collar to bring him down to her level, when her fingers run over the enamel pins.
Two new additions to the dark leather jacket stand out now that she’s closer to him. Pride flags: pansexual, demiromantic.
She raises a brow. “Feeling festive all of a sudden?”
He shrugs, and the restraint it takes to keep his eyes from rolling is tangible. “I thought about what you said. Looked into it. You were right.”
“I was? Do you want to talk about it?"
"No," he says, before continuing on anyway (her habit, Alma notices, but can't remember when he absorbed that one). “It’s comfortable. And... Felix made all of us get some.”
He grins, pulling her close, changing the subject with the brush of his lips over her cheek. Mason is very good at changing the subject when he wants to. “You ready?”
