#runa workshop | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

urmomsstuntdouble · 4 years

Note

if you’re okay with hetalia! I would love anything with the nyo!nordics they are absolutely my guilty pleasure. it can be shippy or familial or whatever else. I’m partial to stupid AUs like “they all work at the mall but don’t match their stores at all” and “iceland is into vocaloid” but you could also go the complete opposite direction and I’d be just as happy with high fantasy or whatever inspires you :)

here ya go i guess. sorry this took so long, i sort of got carried away with it and now it is Lorge. is it good? in character? who knows. anyway, i hope you enjoy :)

December 19, 20XX

After five years of living together, there were certain things Ylva had come to expect of her roommates. Harassment at work was nearly a given when one of them had a problem, whether it was Runa needing a place to sleep for the night or Maija needing to workshop material for her latest gig. Thankfully, Ylva worked at a Color Me Mine instead of a bank or something serious. And today was no exception to the Workplace Harassment Rule. At 7:32, Maija burst through the front door and charged over to where Ylva was filling bottles of glaze. If she were any other customer, someone might have something to say about it, but by now, every staff member was acquainted with her and found her charming. Some had even been disappointed to hear she was taken, though Ylva couldn't imagine why. Her girlfriend was a fucking nightmare.

“I need to paint some mugs,” Maija demanded, tossing the end of her scarf over her shoulder. Ylva didn't look up, didn't even take her headphones out of her ears.

“Cool.”

“For Tuli and Astrid. For Christmas.”

“There have been enough Color Me Mine presents circulated within our apartment already,” Ylva said. The bottle of glaze had been filled, and it was time to move on to the next one. It was butter yellow, almost the same shade as Maija’s hair.

“Okay, you’re not wrong, but if I order on Amazon, it’s not gonna come on time. Also, you’ll get paid this way.” Maija moved a clump of hair away from her forehead with delicate fingers, as though it were made of glass. Ylva snorted, cracking open the yellow glaze.

“My knight in shining armor,” She said, “It’s not like this place is going under.” Quite the contrary, in fact. This close to Christmas, the place was packed as people scrambled to make gifts for their loved ones. Dumbasses. When they rushed the place, it was nearly impossible to get everyone’s stuff through the kiln in time for Christmas.

“Okay, well, have you considered that I’m your girlfriend?” Maija said, giving her best puppy dog eyes. Ylva rolled her eyes, trying to suppress the warmth she felt inside, and shrugged.

“I’d like to not pay rent next month,” She said, “Make that your Christmas present to me. Instead of paying my share of the rent, I get to pay off my student loans.” Maija rolled her eyes, but shifted closer to Ylva.

“Done, if I can make them mugs.”

“Fine.” Ylva glanced up at Maija. “Your hair looks cute today.”

“Oh, thanks! I’ve actually been wearing a hat all day, so I was worried it would look ugly, but…Anyway. So, I sent Runa some tickets to my show on Saturday, but I haven’t heard back from her. Do you know if she’s, like, alright?” Once again, Ylva had to shrug.

“Runa’s a big girl, she can handle herself.”

“I know, but I get so worried about her. Like, what if some handsome boy seduces her and she runs away from home, and-”

“My sister? Run away with a boy?” Ylva had to laugh. “Are you high?” Of all the reasons Runa had to run away from their mother’s house, a boy was not one of them. She’d be more likely to start her own brand of sweaters or write a TV show for Netflix, but never once had Runa talked about boys.

“Whatever. Is she doing okay?”

“I think so. I’ve been sending her money for a couple weeks, so I know she’s not starving.” Ylva had to take comfort in that. The truth was, she hadn’t heard from her sister in a while, and it was becoming unnerving. But if she got anxious about it, so would Maija, and an anxious Maija was no fun to deal with.

“Besides, when has she ever missed one of your shows?” Runa made it a point to go whenever one of them had a gig. She was always in the front row when Ylva’s band, Lithium, was playing, and always somewhere in the room when Maija was doing “comedy.” Cringing along with the rest of the audience.

“That’s true. I just wanna make sure she’s safe, you know?” Ylva nodded. It was a feeling she knew all too well. Looking after Runa defined her middle school career.

“What sort of mugs do you want?” She asked, changing the subject. She was tired of talking about her sister, tired of thinking about all the ways Runa could end up dead in a ditch. Or dead some other way, like drugs or if she ate scallops, which she was allergic to, or if she got too close to some birds while trying to take a picture and got hit by a car.

“Oh, um, I think Tuli likes the round ones.”

“All mugs are round,” Ylva snorted. Her manager probably wouldn’t notice if she wandered away to paint mugs with Maija. She stopped pretending to fill bottles of glaze and stowed the refills under the table, where they usually lived, and guided Maija over to the selection of paintable ceramics.

“This is what I mean,” Maija said, grabbing a mug from the top shelf. Ylva enjoyed the way her hoodie moved, how the fabric straightened against her waist while she rose to her toes. The mug in question was wide at the bottom, but the sides slowly curved up to the top, not unlike a sugar pot. It was cute, and exactly the sort of mug Tuli would like.

“Oh,” Ylva said, “That’s cute. I think Astrid would like that one.” She pointed at another mug on the top shelf, and took pleasure in watching her girlfriend stretch to reach it. Over the next few hours, Maija painted the mugs. Her efforts to be artistic were sincere, but it was clear she didn't have the attention span. As always, Maija never stopped rambling and never stopped making jokes out of everything. By now, Ylva was immune to most of it, although she did laugh at the occasional joke while picking bits of clay dust out from under her fingernails. Once most of the customers had left, she kicked up her boots on the table, which was mostly an excuse to show off her fishnet leggings to Maija.

“I think I’m done,” Maija said a couple hours later, paintbrush between her teeth as she stared down at her work. Both mugs were sloppily painted, but Ylva could see what they were supposed to be. Astrid’s was a reference-less portrait of her dog on one side, with cherry blossoms covering the rest of the mug, and Tuli’s had a rainbow painted along the handle and a bunch of Pokemon adorning the outside. Well, Pokemon via the brush of an ill-experienced painter. There were some that erred more to the side of horrific than cute, but Ylva knew what Maija was going for.

“They look like shit,” She said, “They’re gonna love them.”

“Hey!”

“You can’t tell me this is supposed to be Eevee,” She said, tapping what looked like a bear on the side of Tuli’s mug. Maija’s face fell, a pout gracing her lips.

“It was supposed to be a Pikachu.”

“That’s talent, I guess,” Ylva said, “Or lack thereof. Don’t worry, you’re talented in other areas.” She tacked on at the end, when Maija’s pout increased.

“Well, that’s rude. Can we go do the glaze now?”

“They’re already glazed,” Ylva said, “The next coat is just to protect them when they go in the kiln. But you can come.” The pair stood up, and made their way to the back room, where Ylva removed her fishnet gloves and dunked each mug in the pre-kiln glaze, then set them aside to dry. Before she could put her gloves back on, Maija snatched one of her hands.

“I need my hand,” She complained, but allowed Maija to press a kiss to her knuckles and pull her into a hug. It was nice, after a day on her feet, to lean against someone she loved.

“This is nice,” Maija murmured, breath warm against her neck. Ylva shivered at the feeling, and though she wanted to rub her face further into Maija’s shoulder, she couldn’t walk out of the back room with smudged eyeliner, so she stayed put.

“How was your day today?” Ylva asked, her voice muffled somewhat by the hoodie.

“Long,” Maija said, “Feels like yesterday was years ago, and I didn't do anything the whole time. You?”

“I’ve been at work,” Ylva said, closing her eyes. She could almost ignore the ache in her feet when she focussed on how warm Maija was and the pressure of arms on her back.

“Mm,” Maija hummed, “When do the mugs go in the kiln?”

“When they’re dry,” Ylva mumbled, swaying slightly. She missed this. Even though she was done with school, no one else in the apartment was. Finals week was almost done, though- Which reminded her, Maija really needed to be studying. She had a test tomorrow. Eh, she’d already spent two hours painting mugs. A few more minutes spent hugging wouldn't hurt.

“That’s annoying,” Maija said, her voice high and soft. Her sentence was punctuated with a yawn, and Ylva was glad her face was hidden, because how dare someone make a sound so cute. The smile on her face would become a target for mockery, and go straight to Maija’s ego.

“My shift ends soon,” Ylva said, clenching her fingers in the back of Maija’s hoodie.

“Yeah.”

“The car’s not far.”

“Thought Tuli took the car to school today,” Maija mumbled, straight into some of Ylva’s hair.

“Astrid got them an Uber,” Ylva said. This was where it was at, even though Maija was insufferable most of the time. Conversations that meant nothing, hugs, and the comfortable familiarity of someone she’d loved for a long time. But, technically, she was still on the job. So she pulled away, gave Maija’s hand a quick squeeze, and left the back room feeling energized.

December 20, 20XX

“Do you think I should dye my hair?” Maija asked, leaning heavily against the shopping cart.

“Mm. It could look cute. What color are you thinking?” Tuli asked, not pausing in her examination of the supermarket’s selection of spices. Maija clicked her tongue, and ran her hand through some heavily gelled hair.

“Oh, you know. Blue and pink are the classic colors, but what if I got, like, green or something? That would be pretty neat.” Tuli plucked something from the shelf and returned to the cart.

“But: Are you biased to dye it green right now because green is a Christmas color?” Hm, that was a good point.

“I don't think so?” Maija said, “I mean, green’s a nice color.”

“That it is,” Tuli agreed, and laid a hand on the shopping cart. “What else did they tell us to get?” Maija pulled a crumpled up list of ingredients out of her back pocket, and read over them. From the looks of the shopping cart, most of it had already been gathered.

“Uh, craisins. And…those sprinkles that are actually eyes?”

“Oh!” Tuli smiled, “I put that. I wanted to put them on cupcakes, but then I didn't really plan anything else, so…I guess I’ll just end up eating a bunch of eyeball sprinkles. Or maybe someone else will do something with them.” Tuli shrugged, and brushed some hair out of her eyes. “So. Craisins.”

“Craisins ahoy,” Maija replied, though she wasn't sure what Craisins ahoy actually meant. To her knowledge, most Christmas meals did not include craisins, but when Ylva and Astrid were in the kitchen, she did not question them. They were magicians of the culinary persuasion, except for when Astrid tried to say that bananas on pizza were good. No, Maija hadn't tried it, she would not try it, and it was not good. End of discussion.

“Craisins,” Tuli agreed, and turned away to search for them, leaving Maija to follow behind with the cart. Though they were out for craisins, both of them had a habit of picking up interesting foods, sharing it with the other, and deciding if it was actually worth buying. Jalapeno chocolates? Yes, but we can't tell the others it’s spicy. Mango flavored tea? Not actually that interesting, but the box was pretty.

“Hey, Tuli,” Maija asked while they were waiting in line at the checkout.

“Mm?”

“Do you like Pokemon?”

“Oh, yeah! I was super competitive on the Pokemon scene in middle school. I was one of, like, three kids who actually knew how the card game worked,” She said.

“I didn't know I was in the presence of royalty,” Maija teased. Tuli gave a soft laugh, and adjusted her hoodie.

“Plot twist,” Tuli said, “I’m actually both Jessie and James, smashed into one body.” She laughed at her own joke, though it wasn't funny. Maija gave her a pity laugh though.

“Oh, move the cart up,” Maija said, and Tuli did, pulling the cart after her. The store was super crowded today- Probably not the wisest idea to save the shopping until this close to the holiday, but oh well. At least Maija had gifts for everyone this year. She was rather proud of that. It was worthy of straightening her bow tie- If she had been wearing a bow tie, that is. She should get more of those. Insufficient bow ties was an excellent description of her wardrobe. Unfortunately.

All in all, the trip to the store lasted about two and a half hours. Not too shabby for a pre-Christmas haul, if Maija had anything to say about it, and soon enough, they were back home. Ylva was out at work, and Astrid was busy working on her thesis, so the pair set about to silently put all the new groceries away. Once that was done, they traipsed off to their respective rooms. Maija knew she had to work on her new set, but couldn't think of anything funny. Literally, hours went by and she was still staring at the same blank screen. How fun.

Eventually, she got bored and sent Astrid the link to a YouTube video called i sword fight my ex gf in a denny’s parking lot with the caption omg this is so us!!1!. A couple minutes later she was rewarded with the word Blocked, despite not actually getting blocked. Love you too bab <3. No response. At least Ylva thought she was sort of funny. Or at least, funny enough to go to her shows. Did Ylva actually think she was funny? As if they hadn't had that conversation before. But, Ylva was on her mind, so Ylva she would text. babe. A couple minutes passed before the response of what.

am i funny

You’re the courtiest of court jesters. i lose my spleen laughing every time i go to one of your shows.

Though Ylva still had her spleen, the message was reassuring.

should i dye my hair

Idc, its not my hair. A pause. also i got your dumb mugs

yay!

Ah, punctuation. Noice. Ttyl. Maija sighed at that, and returned to staring blankly at her laptop. Maybe she could write some jokes about her weird, not-quite-rivalry with Astrid. Or her relationship? Something didn't sit right with her about mocking her girlfriend on stage. It was only funny when Ylva could mock her back. And that was how Maija wound up watching clips of various comedians until the evening rolled around and Ylva came home.

“Hey,” Maija said, “Tell me what to write about.” Ylva paused for a second, taking off her coat and boots.

“How girls always dye their hair blond but do it so you can see their roots.”

“What?”

“‘Cause they’re, like, into beauty but half ass it when it comes to their hair,”

Ylva said, “It’s irony or whatever.” Maija didn't think the idea was that good, but stowed it away in her mind, just in case.

“Thanks, luv,” She said in her poshest English accent.

“Nobody with that accent says luv,” Ylva told her, “It’s not an upper class Londoner thing.”

“Upper class London can suck my dick,” Maija mumbled, “And thanks. Love.” Apparently saying the word “love” in her regular voice was enough to tinge Ylva’s cheeks pink. That was cute.

“Whatever,” She muttered, and brushed past Maija into their room. Ylva crashed on their bed, face down.

“Tired?” Maija asked, and she nodded.

“But the M-U-G-S are in my backpack.”

“That word is too short for you to spell out like that.” Ylva only stuck out her tongue.

“I’d fuck this bed if I could,” she mumbled, “So soft.”

“Consider yourself kinkshamed,” Maija said, taking a seat beside her. She wound one hand into Ylva’s hair, combing it out with her fingers. Ylva had such pretty hair. It was already blond, but with a liberal application of dye, she was silver-haired. Except for the side of her head that was shaved, where little golden tufts reigned supreme.

“There are worse kinks to shame, but alright,” Ylva said, “But I don't need to tell you about that.” Maija choked on her breath, heat rising to her cheeks.

“I- What?! What are you trying to say?” Ylva tilted her head to the side. Somehow she was both exhausted and playful, and the combination was not doing great things for Maija’s heart.

“Oh, nothing,” Ylva teased, kicking one leg in the air. “I just know you, is all.” Maija withdrew her hand and gave Ylva a light shove, only for Ylva to drag it back.

“No, just…Just stay here,” She mumbled, so Maija did, though not without workshopping her material until Ylva was no longer in the mood to fuck the bed. Although she could feel Ylva getting annoyed, at least she was laughing.

December 21, 20XX

Tuli scanned the room once again, wondering if she had gone to the right place. Maija’s shows were always at the same comedy club, but what if things were different this time? What if she made a mistake by ordering a cocktail? If this was the wrong place, it was probably too late to make it to the actual one. Would Maija be mad if she missed the show? Probably not, right? Yeah, it was just a simple misunderstanding. She checked her phone again, and it sure looked like she was in the right place, but what if-

“Tuli,” A voice said from behind, and when she glanced up, she was relieved to see Astrid behind her.

“Oh, Astrid! Sorry, I didn't see you come in.” She stood up, and pulled a chair away from the table for her wife. Astrid flashed her a tiny smile, and sat down, though she scooted herself in.

“There’s nothin’ to be sorry for,” Astrid said, her voice rolling over Tuli in a calming wave.

“Yeah. Anyway, do you want something to drink?” Astrid shook her head, causing her long hair to shimmer in the low light. One of her jobs was modelling, and for her most recent shoot, pink hair had been in order. Where her hair was usually a pale golden shade, it was now a faded bubblegum color at the ends, and Tuli loved it. She had suggested dying all of it pink, but apparently that was more than Astrid was willing to do. It was a bit of a commitment for someone with hair as long as her’s. Still, her wife looked cute enough with pink hair that Tuli was considering dying her own blond locks.

“Not two nights in a row.” The previous night, Astrid had attended a Christmas party for work, and had more to drink than was wise.

“You’re such a grandma,” Tuli teased, running one foot up Astrid’s leg under the table. Astrid’s slight shiver made her smile, though she tried to hide it by taking a long sip of her drink.

“Hey,” Another voice said from her other side, breaking the soft air between the two women. Ylva had arrived, it seemed, decked out in leather and fishnets, with only the most extreme eye makeup on.

“Hey, how are you?” Tuli greeted her with a warm smile, though Ylva did not return it.

“I’m alright. Don’t really want to see Maija embarrass herself again, but it seems to be her passion.”

“Oh, don’t say that!” Tuli gasped, “She’s not that bad!”

“She’s not that good either,” Astrid mumbled, leaning forward to rest her chin on her hand.

“You guys are so mean!” Tuli said, mocking offense. In her heart, she knew Maija wasn’t particularly good at delivering a joke, but she didn’t want to be rude about it in a space where Maija could hear.

“I’m allowed to be mean to her, she’s my girlfriend,” Ylva said, and kicked her legs up on the table. Tuli rolled her eyes, letting the meanness thing slide.

“You should be wearing pants right now,” She said, “You’ll freeze!” Though she wore knee high boots, fishnets and red denim shorts couldn’t protect her from the cold.

“I drove here, it’s fine. Relax, mom,” Ylva said.

“Okay, but if you get too cold-”

“It’s a great time for you to get preachy,” Astrid mumbled. Tuli blushed, though she wasn’t wrong. Her dress was better suited for the warmer seasons.

“I have a flannel in my purse,” She mumbled.

“That’s gay,” Ylva deadpanned, scrolling through her phone. Tuli rolled her eyes. At least one of them had the sense to dress for the weather. Astrid had on knee high boots that looked like they belonged to a high fantasy video game, olive green jeans tucked into her boots, and a gray sweater dress that hugged her narrow frame. She was lovely, or at least Tuli thought so.

For the next couple minutes, the three sat in relatively comfortable silence. Tuli had to wonder how Ylva was comfortable sitting with her knees in her chest, but she let it go. Astrid pulled her laptop out of her backpack and got started on some of her homework. Tuli had always liked the idea of grad school, but after seeing the toll it took on her roommates, she began to second guess it. Astrid would be paying off her student loans for the rest of time, and Maija would be saddled in debt after the heat death of the universe. At least the loans made for good comedy on occasion.

By the time the lights dimmed and the first comedian took to the stage, Tuli had grown bored, and was watching Astrid work over her shoulder. She was working on her thesis. It wasn't due until May, but she’d already started over from scratch twice since she started. When the lights went down, Astrid paused her typing, then lowered the brightness and started typing. She worked all through the first comedian’s set. He had some funny things to say, and some things that were more offensive than humorous. Overall, Tuli was more invested in her drink and checking over her shoulder to see if Runa was there yet.

When Maija came on, as the third act of the night, Astrid moved her laptop away from herself on the table, paying more attention. While Ylva didn’t set her phone down, she did look up from it.

“Has she already done this set in public?” Astrid asked, and Ylva shook her head.

“No, it’s fresh. She calls it a Christmas special. Must be why there’s so many stupid Santa jokes.”

“I like the Santa jokes,” Tuli said, though she wasn't really paying attention to Maija. She was listening, but tracing circles in the condensation on her glass.

“She might just be bombing,” Ylva said, a slight upturn in her lips. “You suck!” She shouted, interrupting the show. Maija paused, the smile dropping from her face as she looked out at the crowd. Her eyes were wide for a minute, then when she noticed Ylva, a smile crossed her face.

“Says the emo in the corner. Hey, did anyone tell you it’s not 2006 anymore? My condolences, but My Chemical Romance is dead.” That brought on a couple laughs, and Maija launched into a whole spiel about Hot Topic, all while staring straight at Ylva. Tuli shook her head- The whole thing was ridiculous. How Maija was funnier when she was improvising, how she needed Ylva’s help to do that. But Ylva didn't seem to mind, as she hugged herself and grinned up at the stage, saying nothing as her girlfriend dragged her through the mud. Not long after Maija began to deviate from the emo jokes, someone stomped over to their table and plopped down in an empty seat, then buried her shaved head in her arms. Ylva’s attention was immediately diverted from the stage, and onto the girl next to her.

“Runa?” She whispered, and laid her hand on the girl’s arm. The girl looked up, and holy shit, it was Runa. Tuli tried not to eavesdrop when they began speaking in hushed whispers, but couldn’t help but overhear a couple things. Failure, mother, homeless? And also college, driver’s license, weed. All that set her heart racing, but she tried to pay attention to Maija anyhow. Astrid, who was also peering over at Runa, took her hand, and gave a comforting squeeze.

When her set was over, Maija gave a dramatic bow and tipped her hat, then scurried off the stage. She returned a moment later to put the microphone back on it’s stand, which got a couple laughs. Tuli wondered if that had been on purpose. Shortly after, Maija made her way over to the table. She spun around the last empty chair and sat down, crossing her arms over the back.

“Hey guys,” She said, a little breathless, “How’d I do?”

“No better or worse than usual, I think,” Astrid said, pushing her glasses further up her nose.

“You were fine,” Ylva said, reaching across the table to pat her arm. The table was too wide, though, and her arms were too short, so she only managed to swipe at the air.

“Thanks,” Maija said, “Hey, Runa, glad you could make it.”

“Oh, yeah,” Runa said, her voice tiny. She had her arms crossed, and seemed to shrink in on herself a little. “You were cool.”

“Cool.” Maija smiled, “How’re you doing? Haven’t seen you in a while. And you cut your hair!” Runa shrugged, one hand coming up to her head, almost as if to tuck some hair behind her ear before she realized it was no longer there.

“Yeah, I guess I wanted a new look.”

“Well I like it,” Maija said, “It’s cool.”

“It’s a little messy,” Ylva said.

“Someone else is on stage, guys,” Astrid piped up, gesturing forward. All five of them looked up, dumb expressions on their face. They were, in fact, talking over someone’s set.

“Shit,” Maija said, not lowering her voice at all, “Do you guys wanna get out of here?”

“Can we?” Runa asked, looking hopeful.

“But we just got here,” Tuli complained, “Wouldn’t it be rude to-”

“Well, as we have just noticed, we are talking over someone’s set, so I think we should have this conversation in the lobby,” Ylva said, and that was something they could all agree on, so the group packed up their things and left the main area of the comedy club.

“Sorry to make you guys leave,” Runa mumbled, balling her fists in the ends of her sleeves.

“It’s okay,” Ylva said, “I can drive you home if you want.”

“I don't want to go back to mom’s house,” Runa said.

“Well, you’re always welcome at our apartment,” Maija said, playing with a piece of hair that had fallen into her face. “Can I ask who cut your hair? It’s so cute, and-”

“I did,” Runa said, “Thanks.” Though Maija was entertaining her with discussions of her hair, Tuli couldn't help but worry. She pulled her phone out of her pocket, and began typing out a message to Astrid. Do you think she’s ok? Astrid glanced down at her upon checking her phone. Idk. No way for me to know. She paused for a moment, then began typing again. Also, I watched you type that. Tuli shifted so she could get a better look at Astrid, and sent her a goofy expression. She was rewarded with a smug smile and a hand on her shoulder. Tuli shifted closer to her, until they were almost touching, with the hope that Astrid might put an arm around her shoulder, but to no avail. That was what she got for not asking, but it didn't seem appropriate with Ylva and Maija vying for Runa’s attention.

“I’ll talk to her later, okay?” Runa said, “I just need a place to stay for Christmas, and after that I’ll be out of your business forever.”

“I never said I wanted you out of my business forever,” Ylva said, her voice betraying some anger.

“Okay,” Runa said, though the indication of her tone was that it was not, in fact, okay.

“Okay,” Tuli butted in, “Runa needs a place to stay, and we have one, so that’s the problem solved. Let’s go home, I can make dinner, and-”

“‘S my turn,” Astrid said, “I’ll make dinner.”

“Sure, whatever,” Ylva said, “Is that okay with you, Runa?” Her sister shrugged, but nodded, in the ultimate mixed message.

“Dope! Alright, so you guys wanna go?” Maija said, gesturing to the door. As that was the general consensus, the group began to make their way out. Just as they were on their way out, a man came up to the group.

“Hey, I saw your set,” He said, talking only to Maija. “Maija, right?”

“Yep, that’s me!” She said, putting on a voice eerily similar to Tuli’s customer service voice.

“Well, you’re really funny, and I was wondering if you might like to go out with me sometime.” Maija’s face went a deep red, and her fists clenched at her sides

“Um, thanks, but-”

“Have you ever heard of a straight woman with a rat tail?” Ylva asked, and threw her arm around Maija’s waist.

“If you have, I’d actually like to meet her.” Neither of them noticed, but Runa seemed to wince, pulling her arms even tighter around herself. Her cheeks had gone red, but the door hadn't been open long enough for it to be attributed to the cold.

“Oh, shit. Sorry, uh, you don't look gay.”

“I’m-” Maija sputtered, “This is my girlfriend. But I’m sure you’re- You’re very sexy to some. Thanks- Thanks for coming to my show, bye!” Tuli felt bad for laughing, but Ylva clearly didn't. She cackled, in fact, as they filed out the door and away to their car.

“But you should really get rid of the rat tail,” She told Maija, and Tuli couldn't agree more.

“It’s a part of my look!” Maija whined, running a hand through her hair. Though she had employed copious amounts of gel to preserve a coiffed look, it was mostly falling apart by now.

“Yer look is…You should change it,” Astrid said snidely.

“What’s wrong with it?” Maija asked, walking backwards so she could face Astrid, although she kept one hand firmly in Ylva’s.

“The rat tail, f’r one. Yer hair’s a mess, clothes never match, and-”

“We can't all be models, Astrid.”

“She’s got a point,” Ylva said.

“You’re all bullies!” Maija whined, turning back around. “I can't believe my own lover would betray me like this.”

“I said what I said,” Ylva said, seeming unbothered, though she yelped when Maija attacked her with a side hug.

“You guys are so loud!” Runa whined, hands now in her pockets.

“It never ends,” Tuli warned, though her tone was jovial, “You’re lucky Ylva’s already graduated.”

“Don’t remind me,” Astrid said, her cheeks paler than usual. Tuli chuckled softly at the memories- Ylva was probably the worst student out of the lot of them, and college had been a stressful time for her. Where Tuli wanted to rip out her hair sometimes, Ylva actually had. It was actually concerning how many times someone had found Ylva crying with fists full of blond hair. Not that college hadn't been stressful for all of them. Tuli was set to graduate in May, and her experiences had made her question grad school.

Though she was only a year younger than Astrid, she was further behind in school, due to her gap years. They had known each other for a long time, and had been together since high school, but Tuli had never seen Astrid more stressed out than when she was applying to PhD programs. Stress remained simmering ever since, but Tuli wasn't sure if she was willing to put herself through that. She would probably be fine getting a job at a museum or something, given her major of theology.

The group reached the car, only for Ylva and Maija to break out into an argument over who would drive home. Both claimed the car to be theirs, even though it was actually Astrid who paid for most of it. Ylva won out in the end, and she continued arguing with Maija the whole time. Runa seemed mortified by the whole ordeal, but Tuli didn't want to prod. Once they got home, Astrid fulfilled her promise of cooking dinner, and they enjoyed a round of extremely loud conversation, as was typical of their household, before Maija started drinking to celebrate her set. Though the air in the room was jovial, everyone was tired, and they somehow managed to get to bed before the time became ungodly.

December 22, 20XX

Saturdays. There should have been more stuff on Twitter, given that it was a Saturday. More people- Ylva, Maija, Tuli, Astrid- should have been out, given that it was a Saturday, but no. Weren’t you supposed to go out and party every night when it was a Saturday night? Four college kids sitting around the living room drinking wine and knitting and watching TV wasn't what Runa had expected when she crashed with Ylva. Weren't there places to go, things to do?

Instead, she had a pillow under her chest and her phone clenched in her hand as she laid on the floor, watching the nth consecutive episode of Sense8. How was there so much of a show that only went on for two seasons?

“So wait, is he actually there?” Maija asked. Ylva sighed, and paused the show to explain every detail of the situation. That was how, Runa thought. She turned her face into the floor, scraping her nose against the rug. Her neck thanked her for relieving it of the odd position she had been in previously. As Ylva prattled on about the ins and outs of Sense8, Runa brought a hand up to stroke her newly shorn head. She couldn't stop touching it- Although she sort of wanted to, it was getting greasy. Her hair had never been so short, and she didn't know what to think of it. It wasn't exactly uncomfortable, but she didn't know how to feel now that her hair didn't rest against her shoulders.

But it didn't matter. Her hair didn't matter, right? All that mattered was that she got into Princeton. She was smart, and she was going to Princeton, and she had a place to stay until Christmas. What am I doing? Sleeping on her sister’s couch while avoiding her mom wasn't something to be proud of, but it was all she had. But a song she liked was part of the soundtrack, so she turned onto her side, and watched the show. Maija was right, it was really confusing, but at least the soundtrack was alright.

Eventually, Runa redirected her attention to social media, blindly scrolling through various apps until there was nothing left to scroll through. Finally, she resorted to scrolling through her own Instagram page. She only had twenty posts, and eleven of them were of birds, with eight of those being pictures of her pet parakeet, named Puffin. Ylva teased her about it when they were kids, but it wasn't her fault puffins were the only bird she knew. Fortunately, since then, Runa had become more educated on the dopeness of birds. Scrolling through her own page didn't help, though. She was only reminded of how Puffin was dead. Maybe she could get another bird when she was at Princeton, if they let students have birds.

“Runa?” The sound of her name caught her attention, and she jolted into a sitting position. Ylva stood at the end of the couch, staring down at her with a blank expression.

“Where’s everyone else?”

“Maija’s in the shower, and we’re out of toilet paper, so Tuli went to get some. Astrid’s right there.” Astrid was, indeed, right there. She sat cross legged in an armchair, brows furrowed as she worked on some knitting, though there was a half empty glass of wine next to her. As if on cue, Astrid looked up.

“Hi, Runa,” She mumbled, and went back to her knitting.

“Hey,” Runa said, “What’s up?”

“Can I talk to you in the other room?” Ylva asked, by which she meant her bedroom. Runa couldn't really say no, so she got up and followed Ylva to the bedroom.

“Are you okay?” Ah, the age old question. Would she ever learn how to answer it in a way that didn't launch a whole discussion? Experts remain puzzled.

“I guess,” Runa shrugged, “I had a fight with mom. But it was really stupid,” Runa mumbled, and it really was. Things hadn't been going her way lately was all. She was eighteen, and every day her mom dropped hints that she’d be kicked out soon. But apparently, being eighteen didn't mean she could smoke weed or hug a boy- Even though she wasn't sure she even liked boys. And then she got to learn that her best friend was moving to a whole different country, because apparently it was Oxford or bust for her mother, and she was leaving over break- Everything was so much. And, as any responsible adult could tell you, sex won’t solve any of your problems. So why did Runa think it would work?

“I don't care how stupid it was. You’re my little sister, I care about you.” Runa couldn't help but cringe at that.

“Half sister,” She reminded her.

“Half sisters are still sisters. What happened?” Ylva pressed, crossing her arms. She adopted a stern look, and even rose to her toes to appear more intimidating.

“It’s really nothing-”

“Bullshit, tell me the truth.”

“I just- I did something stupid, and…Will you hate me?” Runa asked. It felt irrational, but what if her sister saw her as some sort of…traitor? She wasn't even sure what she was scared of. Why did Ylva’s approval even matter? Even if Ylva decided she hated her, Maija liked her enough to let her stay…Right?

“I am legally not allowed to hate you,” Ylva said, and though it was meant to be a joke, Runa didn't feel comforted. The law was just a bunch of words, after all.

“Well, um. Mom and I got in a fight. I did something, she didn’t like it. I guess I knew she’d be mad, but I didn't think she’d be that mad. I deserved it, but-”

“Until I know what you did, it’s going to be hard for me to have an opinion,” Ylva said, finally coming down from her toes. Runa supposed she was right. It would probably be better to say something, but she didn't know how. Would it even be safe? Who knew.

“I smoked a lot of weed…”

“Everyone smokes weed.”

“I, um. Please never repeat this,” Runa asked. Once again, her arms came up to hold her body. It was almost protective. Ylva nodded, and reached out to grab one of her hands. She refused to be okay with limply holding Runa’s hand between her own, and squeezed so hard that Runa had to squeeze back, as a form of revenge.

“Um. My friend and I were smoking, you know, and…In the basement. And I sort of, um. I sort of did...” She paused, remembering. “You know.” Ylva’s eyes went wide, and she started nodding. That, coupled with what she’d just confessed to, had Runa’s cheeks burning.

“Alright. Getting it, that’s cool.”

“No it’s not!” Runa yelled. Absolutely none of it was cool. “Our friendship is over! Mom said she’d leave us alone, but then she came downstairs, and we were just- She wouldn't stop yelling, and I was- I was still on the floor, and, and-” She could feel tears welling up in her throat, but refused to acknowledge them. She wouldn’t cry. She hadn't cried when her mom was yelling, or during any argument since then. Or before it, for that matter. No, Runa Stelisdottir didn't cry. Except now she was, and Ylva was watching her.

“I hate Mom.” Runa wiped her nose, because she couldn't cry over this.

“Me too,” Ylva said, and it really ticked Runa off how calm she could stay about the whole thing.

“You don't get it,” She said, though she despised sounding like a teenager.

“You don't understand! Your life is so perfect, with your girlfriend and your apartment-”

“My life isn't perfect just because I have a girlfriend and an apartment,” Ylva said, but Runa wasn't listening at that point.

“Mom was always so nice to you, and- And you have so many friends! You don't get it, you can't get it, and mom’s not gonna let me come home, and I don't have anywhere to go, but you won't-” Runa hiccupped, and she couldn't. She started crying harder, sobs shaking her body.

“Runa-” Ylva’s hand came down on her shoulder, and though her touch was gentle, it was even more unnerving.

“Don't touch me!” She shook Ylva’s hand off her shoulder, and ran. Her hiding place seemed to be the laundry closet, where the washer and dryer hummed away in their neat little stack and color coded baskets- Blue, yellow, black, and red- almost filled the rest of the room. Runa sank to the floor, phone clenched in her hand. It wasn't her fault, she told herself. It was all her mom’s fault. If she didn't want her daughters to act out, she should’ve raised them not to.

Knowing that didn't stop her from crying, though, and cry she did. She was an embarrassment, having a temper tantrum like a little baby. But eventually, she cried herself to sleep. Uncomfortable, cramped sleep, with her neck resting at an unnatural angle against the dryer, but sleep nonetheless.

She woke hours later to the faint hum of the dryer and the muffled sound of hushed voices.

“I think she’s depressed,” said one woman. Ylva.

“Really? That’s pretty bad.” Maija.

“Yeah. I mean, she’s got parental issues out the ass and doesn’t even trust me when I’ve been more of a mom than our literal mother.”

“Well, I mean, maybe that’s part of why? And it doesn’t automatically mean she’s depressed.”

“She’s on her phone all day. And I know, I know I sound like a boomer, but that shit’s not good for you. She doesn't talk to anyone, and…you know, maybe you were right about her running away with a boy.”

“I thought she was, you know…”

“I did too, but I guess not.” Runa choked at that, pressing her ear against the door. Was this a regular occurrence, that they just- just gossiped about her?

“Eh, it doesn't matter. I just hope she doesn't get into anything harder than weed.”

“You know that thing about weed being a gateway drug is bullshit, right?” Maija said, “They just say that to scare kids out of doing drugs-”

“Is it really that bad of me to want her sober? I mean, I’m not, like, saying you should never do drugs, but-”

“No, it makes sense. It would really suck if she got arrested or something.”

“Yeah,” Ylva murmured, and the conversation seemed to pause for a minute. “I just- Why wouldn't she tell me about the shit she clearly has going on?” Runa cringed at that, and she wanted to cover her ears, but there was something inside her that demanded she keep listening.

“Well, you said yourself that she doesn't really trust you,” Maija said. Runa wanted to rip her hair out. No! That wasn't it at all- Did they really think that poorly of her? Of course she trusted Ylva! It was Ylva who didn’t trust her, and only played the sisters card when things were going badly.

“She doesn't,” Ylva agreed, “And I sort of get it, ‘cause high school sucks, but since she doesn’t talk to me, I have to assume the worst.” Oh, come on. She talked to Ylva plenty.

“Yeah,” Maija hummed, “Do you think-”

“Runa doesn't care what I think.”

“I’m sure she does. But I’m not Runa.”

“It would be pretty weird if you were,” Ylva said, then paused. “I’m glad you’re not.” At that point, Runa couldn't keep listening. Her hand came up to the doorknob, and she was about to open it when Maija spoke again.

“Hey, it won't be that long before she’s out of your hair.”

“Yeah.” Ylva sighed, and the tone she said it in made Runa shiver. Like she was a temporary form of entertainment, or an obstacle, or- “At least I’ve got you.” She burst out of the laundry closet to find Maija sitting on the counter, one arm around Ylva, both with mugs in hand.

“Stop talking about me!” Runa shouted, and took a moment to relish in their surprise before she spun around and ran out of the apartment- A terrible idea, since she didn't really know the area. Her wallet and phone charger were in her backpack, which she had left behind. But she wasn't here to make good choices, apparently. No, she was there to anger her sister then leave all her shit behind after she had pissed off her mom.

Runa made her way into the lobby of the building, ready to leave, but the snow falling from a pitch black sky made her pause. Maybe she could find some storage room to spend the night in. According to her phone, though, she'd already spent most of the night in Ylva’s laundry room. And it was technically Sunday, so most people probably wouldn't be up and about for a while. So Runa set about wandering the first floor of the building- Not that there was much to wander- until she came across a door labelled T. It housed a dumpster and a recycling bin, both of which were empty. Sure, Runa thought, I can stay here. Besides, she was tired, and what harm was there in sitting down for a couple minutes? So she did, hiding behind the dumpster. Eventually, she managed to fall asleep, although her new position was no more favorable to her neck than the last.

December 23, 20XX

There was a certain sort of silence that came the morning after a heavy snowfall. It was a silence that Astrid found very peaceful, when accompanied by the correct lighting. Unfortunately, this morning was not one of them, which made waking up a lot easier. Though it would be more fun to stay in bed all day, there were things to do. Okay, she was getting up…now. Now. Okay, hug Tuli a little tighter, then…Awake! She reached across Tuli, still asleep, and felt around the nightstand for her glasses. Once she grabbed them and shoved them up her nose, she pushed herself up into a sitting position. There, Astrid combed her fingers through her hair, contemplated braiding it, but ultimately decided she could do that later, and rolled out of bed.

Upon emerging from the room she shared with Tuli, she spotted two things. One, the couch was empty, and two, her knitting basket was out of place. Instead of dealing with either of those things, though, she meandered over to the kitchen and pulled some mugs from the cabinet. She liked her own coffee black, so she didn't touch it before pouring her own mug, but for some reason, her roommates liked theirs with all sorts of flair. She left the remaining mugs on the counter and leaned against the sink. While she waited for her coffee to cool to a drinkable temperature, Astrid removed the filter from the coffee maker and tossed it in the garbage can. I should probably take out the trash, it’s getting kind of full. But then she’d have to put pants on…Eh, it would give her coffee time to cool off.

Astrid returned to the room, threw on a hoodie and a pair of running shorts, and after a moment’s thought, grabbed her phone. She grabbed the trash, replaced the bag, and slid into their Community Crocs, which were generally used for getting the mail or taking out the trash when nobody felt like putting on actual shoes. She checked her phone, saw that Maija had sent her a series of deep fried memes, and clicked away from Instagram. Maija sending her memes at four am was the least of her worries when it came to online harassment- Yet it somehow managed to be the most annoying. Astrid did modelling work as one way of paying for her degree, and apparently the rainbow flag and diamond ring in her bio weren't enough to deter the advances of the general public.

The elevator reached the first floor, and Astrid shuffled out, blinking in the bright lights of the lobby. With the trash bag slung over her shoulder, she felt like a woman on a mission- And she was, sort of, but in her head it was more along the lines of Stealth and Adventure. Maybe it could be, in her head. In an alternate world where spies take out the trash…

Or. In the regular world, where there might have been a dead body next to the dumpster. That was fun, and also the beginning of a cop show. Astrid dropped the bag in the dumpster, and kneeled down to get a better look- Or, in the regular world, where Runa was hopefully sleeping next to the dumpster.

“Runa?” She asked, shaking the girl on the floor. “Runa, are ya okay? Alive?” After a moment, the girl became awake, yelping and leaping away.

“Whatthefuckareyoudoing!?” She shrieked, then seemed to notice Astrid. “Oh. Uh. Hey, Astrid.” She made a move with her hand, as if to adjust her hair. Her cheeks only grew a deeper pink when she remembered she had none.

“Hey, Runa,” Astrid echoed, “What the fuck ‘re you doin’?”

“Oh, um.” Runa stared at the ground, her knuckles going white as she gripped her cell phone.

“Are ya okay?” Astrid asked once again, adjusting her glasses. Runa shrugged.

“I mean- I don't know.” She paused. “Can I tell you something?” Astrid nodded.

“Well, I, um. I kind of eavesdropped on my sister and Maija talking about me. Rudely.”

“Maija’ll do that. Ylva too, but less,” Astrid said. She sat back, leaning against the wall. “D’ya wanna talk about it?” Runa shrugged, leaning back against the dumpster.

“What even is there to say?”

“Not talkin’ about it is horse shit,” Astrid said, “Stuff happens, usually not great.”

“I think Ylva hates me,” Runa murmured. She ran a hand through her hair, and tipped her head back against the dumpster. “And our mom.”

“Why?”

“Well, mom hates me because I like getting high, I like to drive, and because I, um. Will you judge me if I tell you about something I did?” Astrid shook her head. Not because she wasn't judgemental, but because she didn't really care. From the way Runa was talking, it was just regular problems that seemed so much bigger to her because she was young. And everyone had those sorts of problems, so who was Astrid to judge?

“Don't really care ‘bout your probl’ms. No offense, but I’ve got my own issues to worry ‘bout.” Runa nodded, seeming to understand, then launched into an explanation.

“So, I have this friend, Li, and she’s pretty cool, but she’s moving away. To London. For college. ‘Cause of some weird custody battle that I don't really get. But then it’s like…She’s leaving me behind! And I’m- I don't- It’s weird, okay?” Runa spoke defensively, yet Astrid didn't know a single teenage girl named Li. Let alone one who was moving to London. “And we have this other friend, Noah. And his family’s also kind of weird, but that’s mostly his sister. Anyway, um. I don't know, there was this weird tension, and now Li’s gone, so I, um. Made out with Noah?”

“Why?”

“I don't know!” Runa said, “Why did I tell you that?” Astrid shrugged.

“Because 'm quiet, therefore ’m not a gossip, therefore ’m trustworthy?” Runa’s face scrunched up as she considered the possibility.

“Huh. But then my mom walked in on us, and Noah left, and we had a fight. Then his sister said we weren't allowed to hang out anymore, and my mom took my driver’s license away. And then I shaved my head, and we had another fight, and…Well, then it was now.”

“So ye’ve been busy,” Astrid said, “Sorry. ‘Bout your friends.”

“Thanks, I guess,” Runa said. “I still don't get why I told you that?” Astrid shrugged.

“Ye don't have to. But ye probably should tell yer sister.”

“That would be humiliating,” Runa complained, hugging her knees. “She makes me feel dumb.”

“Yer not dumb,” Astrid said. “Ya know, I’ve got some little nieces ‘round your age ya might like to be friends with.”

“Oh, um. Cool?” Runa said, though her tone indicated she couldn't care less. Perhaps Astrid hadn't presented it the right way. Whatever. Her nieces were menaces to society anyhow.

“D’ya want me to talk to Ylva for ya?” She suggested. Hopefully that didn't make her sound like a poser, or whatever. But Ylva was probably concerned, and she could probably help with whatever mommy issues had arisen, so. Yeah. And did it make Astrid a bad person if she was thinking through the psychology course she had to take as part of her teaching certification? No, this was something she’d have to deal with when she became an actual teacher. It was fine.

“I guess,” Runa said, “Can I, um, can I come back to the apartment now? I’m cold.” As anyone would be, after spending the night on the floor of the trash room. Astrid hoped she’d be a better mother than Runa’s when and if she and Tuli decided to have kids.

After a few more minutes, Astrid helped Runa off the floor.

“You’re um, you’re really tall,” Runa commented, having to tilt her head back to make eye contact with Astrid.

“Yes, I know,” Astrid said as they walked. Her feet slid around in the Community Crocs- somehow. How was it possible that they were too big for her? How did Ylva survive in these? “Yer kinda short.”

“I’m not that small,” Runa bit out, and the conversation ended. Typical short person response. Though Astrid amused herself, the air between them remained tense on the elevator ride up. When they got to the apartment, Astrid unlocked the door and slid off the crocs.

“Took the trash out,” She announced to the now heavily populated main room. Tuli sat on the floor, head in one hand, eyes shut, but perked up at hearing Astrid’s proclamation. A sleepy smile crossed her face and god, she was so cute. Warmth flooded Astrid’s chest, before she remembered the Runa she had in tow. “Also, Runa’s here.” She stepped aside, revealing Runa. Ylva, who sat on the counter, slammed her mug down.

“Runa,” She said, voice neutral. “Hey.”

“Ylva,” Runa said, shoving her hands in her pockets. She shuffled to the side, allowing Astrid to block her from view once again.

“Hi, Runa!” Maija said, and took a sip of her coffee. “How are you?”

“I’m ok,” Runa mumbled. Astrid made her way across the room to join Tuli on the floor next to the refrigerator- Her wife liked iced coffee year round, and when she could not buy iced coffee, she made iced coffee. The only drawback was how long she had to wait for the coffee to chill. Astrid kept telling her it was easier to pour warm coffee over ice, but Tuli wanted to do it her way, so Tuli got to do it her way.

“Hi,” Astrid whispered, joining Tuli on the floor, trying to be quiet so as not to disturb the family drama going on around them.

“Mornin’” Tuli yawned, “Thanks for taking the trash out.”

“No probl’m,” Astrid replied. Tuli hummed, and leaned her head back against the fridge. She didn't incite any further conversation, so it seemed they’d just be listening to Ylva and Runa attempt to talk to each other about their mother. Awesome. Well, more like really bad parenting and a control freak mother- Which, actually, explained a lot of Ylva’s personality. And life choices. And taste in music. And women.

Though she did try to tune them out, Astrid was unable to ignore the pair forever. Mostly because Runa called on her to arbitrate the conversation, which was dreadfully boring, seeing as it turned out that not much had actually happened. Runa was acting rebellious, whatever that meant, and their mom didn't approve. Ylva sent her money, which Runa had allegedly spent on bus fare and food. She actually spent it on weed, until their mom took her license away for Bad Behavior, which was apparently the lying but mostly the Noah thing. Which was somehow related to the hair thing. If Astrid had to comment, which she didn't, Runa was just confused about a lot of things. Unfortunate, really. But! She was now staying with them until she had to go back to school, so that was cool. Maybe during that time she would become less confused- Although Tuli taking a coffee mug out of the freezer surely didn't help.

“Why was your coffee in there?” Runa asked, pulling Tuli into the limelight.

“Oh, I like iced coffee,” She said. She set her mug down on the counter, grabbed some milk from the fridge, and then honey from another cabinet. A generous amount of both went into her mug.

“But it’s winter,” Runa said, dumbfounded. Tuli only chuckled.

“Yeah, but I still like iced coffee. It just tastes better,” She said, taking a sip.

“It’s a seasonal beverage,” Maija butted in. She managed to stay silent while Runa and Ylva talked about what had happened, but it seemed that was over now.

“How is iced coffee a seasonal beverage?” Ylva asked, “It’s literally just coffee with ice in it.”

“It’s got summer vibes,” Maija explained, “Like how you wouldn't get, like, a peppermint latte in July.”

“I could if I wanted to,” Ylva snapped back, “If I liked peppermint.”

“Okay, but you not liking peppermint doesn't mean it’s not a Christmas drink,” Maija said, “I think you just lack fun.”

“Here’s the thing, though,” Ylva said, tapping Maija’s chest with every word.

“Peppermint exists all year round, so it’s not a goddamn seasonal drink.”

“Yes it is!” Maija shouted, “They only have it in the winter, how is that not seasonal!”

“You can ask Starbucks to make you a peppermint latte in the summer, it’s just not advertised as much.” Astrid, along with Maija, and at least Runa, rolled her eyes. If there was one thing the inhabitants of their apartment were good at, it was pointless arguments. Most of them broke out between Ylva and Maija- Hopefully Runa didn't take the wrong message from that.

“Welcome to our apartment,” Tuli said, almost drily, then turned her attention to Astrid. “I’m gonna go get ready, alright?” Astrid nodded, and gave her shoulder a squeeze. She’d probably wander back to their room soon enough- She had so much work to do, it wasn't even funny. But for now, the greatest entertainment in town was watching Ylva scream at her girlfriend about the seasonality of peppermint lattes.

“Are they- Are they always like this?” Runa asked, once again clutching her phone to her chest.

“Ye get used to it,” Astrid confirmed, “Nd, for what t’s worth, your sister ‘sn’t that bad.”

“I know,” Runa sighed, “Thanks.” Astrid flashed her a slight grin.

“Not a probl’m.” After all, who would she be if she didn’t look out for her friends?

10 notes · View notes

windyfiend · 4 years

Link

“What’s going on?” whispered Runa. She sat atop a metal slab in the artificer’s workshop, her fingers curled at the cold edge, craning her neck to watch the shadows flicker in the space beneath the heavy doors. Shouts and radios and running footsteps rushed in the corridor on the other side.

“The empress saw a rat,” Sebastian grumbled distractedly, peering into the empty eye socket of a half-exposed skull. “She’s mobilized the guard to capture and execute the vermin.”

“Over a rat?” Runa wrinkled her nose. “I’ve caught rats by myself. You don’t need an army.”

With thin tweezers, Sebastian withdrew a tiny shining mushroom from inside the bone. “You don’t know Empress Isobel,” he murmured, turning it thoughtfully, then placed the little specimen into the bottom of an empty jar.

While Runa watched, Sebastian flourished a delicate knife and sliced masses of mushrooms from the mold-filmed skin. Faintly glowing fungus dropped into the waiting jar.

“Can I help?” asked Runa, mystified.

“No.”

“I’m really good with a knife,” Runa pleaded, leaning a little forward. “I’ve skinned squirrels.”

“This isn’t a squirrel,” said Sebastian, and another clump of mushrooms clunked into the jar. “The skill lies in not damaging the skin during harvest. When the appendages have been drained, the bodies will be stitched for burial. They should remain as pristine as possible.”

“I’m good at sewing, too,” Runa offered, then grinned at Sebastian’s sour glare. “What are the mushrooms for?” she prodded.

“They’re sucking the last dregs of the dying soul into their devouring, fungal roots,” Sebastian hissed with theatric sarcasm, “like an assimilation of the mind with the rot.”

Another cluster of mushrooms filled the luminous jar.

“So the mushrooms are eating the dead person’s veskal,” Runa said smartly. Sebastian’s busy silence was as good as agreement. “But then,” said Runa, “how do you get the veskal out of the mushrooms?”

Sebastian thunked the jar down and set Runa with a cold stare. “I allowed you to watch my work on one condition.” He raised a silver-ringed finger.

“Keep quiet?” Runa mumbled.

Sebastian dragged a gesture across his lips as if zippering them shut. While Runa suppressed further questions, Sebastian carried the jar away through the winding aisles of mushrooms and body parts to a long table against the wall. He snapped the jar into the base of a blender and casually flipped a switch.

The room buzzed and echoed with a whirring, pulverizing noise, then the hiss of pressured air like a boiling kettle. Finally, while Runa stretched to see, a bright liquid oozed like magma out of the machine’s spout and dripped into a waiting bottle. The extracted substance glowed with the colors of a brilliant sunset, swirling deep indigo, burning orange and violet until it settled into a shimmering, gloopy blue.

“This,” said Sebastian, “is sludge veskal.” He turned off the noise of the machine and held the bottle to the light of a lavender candle. The veskal inside shifted and writhed as if it were alive, formless and sticky, shimmering with oily colors. Runa’s mouth hung open in awed silence.

“It’s the simplest and most common extraction,” Sebastian continued, enunciating clearly for his wide-eyed student. “A corpse three days old could produce veskal of this hideous caliber, provided a quality fungus is introduced. It’s almost a waste… but it will suffice for our purposes.”

Runa straightened at eager attention. “Are we gonna make a lamp?” she squealed excitedly, pointing up at the blue lights that dangled from the rafters. “We made lamps once in science class, but it was with lantern-moths. The teacher said veskal’s illegal.”

While Runa prattled, Sebastian turned a key in a hidden lock, then rolled out a long partition of ledges and drawers that emerged like magic from the solid wall. The shelves weighed heavy with dark Scythe armor: helmets and chestplates, pauldrons and boots, dulled and lacking their signature shine. Sebastian chose a hoverboard from a narrow shelf and pushed the storage block shut with a rumble and a click.

“Why do you have so many secret doors?” Runa asked, searching the wall for hidden seams.

Sebastian laid the hoverboard upside-down beside her and popped the cover, revealing an intricate network of wires. “Do most people not have secret doors?” he scoffed. “Heathens.”

Runa grinned brightly. She leaned to examine the complex inside of the hoverboard. “What are you doing?”

“What happened to being quiet?” Sebastian snapped.

Runa puffed her cheeks in struggling silence.

Sebastian leveled a warning glare at her, then raised his chin and held out the bottle of sludge veskal. “Hold this, right at the neck, over the floor. Don’t drop it.”

While Sebastian unfolded a cloth-wrapped set of tools, Runa gripped the little bottle carefully, her arm extended as far as she could. “What happens if I drop it?” she whispered, barely daring to breathe, her eyes trained on the shifting liquid.

“That depends on the frequency.” Sebastian struck a brass tuning fork and held the humming note close to the glass. Nothing happened. “Your body could turn inside-out,” he suggested lightly, striking another instrument, “or you could simply go mad.”

Runa swallowed and held the bottle a little tighter.

After two more tuning forks of varying size, the next resonation rippled in the surface of the sludge. The veskal shuddered and smoothed peacefully, settled deep in the bottom of the bottle, then began to change.

Its color shifted vibrant-- oily violet swirled into clear neon blue --and the bottle brightened until it shone clear as a light bulb.

“One-thirty,” Sebastian announced the veskal’s frequency and snatched the bottle from Runa’s grip. While Runa blinked away the residual colors behind her eyes, Sebastian bent over the hoverboard, adjusted a dozen tuning knobs, then poured the dimming veskal into an open well among the wires. With a twist and a snap he sealed the well tightly shut, replaced the cover, flipped the hoverboard right side up and flicked one last switch.

The hoverboard began to hum. A low, droning note sang in the waking metal. The veskal’s blue glow intensified, pushed bright against the surface of the table, and-- like a repelled magnet --the hoverboard lifted into the air.

“Good enough,” Sebastian sighed and tossed the hoverboard to the floor, where it floated and bounced in a pool of blue light. “Now,” he offered Runa his hand, “would you care to try?”

With the child’s eager consent, Sebastian carried her off the edge of the table and set her on the hoverboard like the seat of a swing.

Runa wobbled and squeaked with surprised delight. “It’s like it’s floating on water!” she laughed.

“The veskal will respond to your thoughts,” Sebastian said while he returned to his work, a knife glinting against the overgrown mushrooms. “Don’t command it, but imagine it behaves according to your will. It is stable. It is rising and falling. It is an extension of yourself.”

Runa gripped the edges of the hoverboard while it lilted and tipped in protest. With a determined breath, Runa closed her eyes, steadied her heart and her nerves (the board, in turn, stopped wobbling) and concentrated on the blue glow beneath her.

For a few quiet moments, all was still. And then--

The hoverboard surged at the ceiling like a slingshot while Runa shrieked in terror. She opened her eyes in time to stop her ascent before her head would have struck a beam.

Runa breathed quick as a rabbit. She chanced a look down from the dizzying height and saw Sebastian staring calmly up at her.

“Help!” Runa whimpered, clinging to the hoverboard with a shuddering death grip.

“You’re in control,” Sebastian called with mild interest. “Not me.”

Tears brimmed hot and painful in Runa’s eyes, but she swallowed hard and forced her thoughts to focus through the twisting memories of crumbled stone and ocean wind.

Slowly, the hoverboard descended. Runa squeezed the edges with pale shaking knuckles and refused to open her eyes while she floated down like a feather.

Her feet dangled a few inches from the floor when the hoverboard tipped out from under her, tossing her off with a terrified shriek that cut short when she found herself safe on solid ground.

“Have you had enough, then?” Sebastian asked with a bemused tilt of his head.

Runa dragged herself to a sitting position, and she glared at the retreating hoverboard as if it had committed a grave betrayal. She extended a hand with her thoughts toward the humming glow.

Her heart slowed. Her breath rose and fell.

The hoverboard glided closer as if guided by an invisible string. Runa gripped the edges and hauled herself up onto it again.

“Not yet,” she said.

#original writing #original fiction #stolen suns

1 note · View note