#stove salamander

[luciosfanpage]

he was a terrible person but i love him

#count lucio #lucio morgasson #lucio the arcana #the arcana #the arcana game #notice the tense changes #stove salamander

[samtheplatypus]

Julian and the stove salamander

#julian devorak #the arcana julian #the arcane game #dr devorak #fanart #ilya devorak #stove salamander #the arcana fanart #queer artist #artists on tumblr #small artist

[nabesthetics]

are you or your followers able to share what we know about the stove salamander? / how it works?

just a little friend…

Weird that the lil guy doesn't have a name even (unless I missed it), we should probably rectify that. I'd need more time though because otherwise I'll just name him Bob or something. I'll call him Stovie here for simplicity.

Unfortunately, there's not much information about him. I can mostly just recall that he eats (?) coal and spits fire to heat up the said coal. Breathes out smoke to express annoyance. Other things, I can just speculate about.

Stove salamanders are clearly not a common way of heating up stoves/ovens, as most characters' reaction to hearing about him is essentially "a what?????". The MC just considers Stovie a normal part of the kitchen because they knew him for as long as they can remember. (You'd think they'd have stronger attachment to him, given that it's the only other living being aside from Asra and Faust that the MC knew for a while)

A very intelligent and peaceful creature capable of understanding requests and even express emotions, including amusement. Whether that's a species trait or just this one individual's personality is up for interpretation.

While it’s called a “salamander”, it also has very distinct lizard features (e.g. eyes) as well as amphibian, so it might be a magic hybrid of sorts. Unsure yet if I’d classify it as a dragon or not.

Normal body temperature is perfectly manageable (so yes you can pet them), and after a burst of heat they need some time and fuel to “recharge”.

Possibly able to hibernate or just spend a lot of time resting because nobody is concerned about leaving Stovie alone for weeks. That also shows that the critter doesn't tend to spit fire or travel much by itself (that or the stove has some protection spells on it).

Fire might be a protection mechanism and/or a way to get coal in the salamanders' natural environments. I'd assume that they live in volcanic areas, or dry places with common forest fires. Maybe deserts where they can burn dry vegetation without causing a disaster? If we assume that they can hibernate for long periods of time, it might be that they just nap while the area recovers, and are awakened by heat.

Hell, could also be that Stovie is some one-of-its-kind creature.

Alternatively could be a domesticated species more commonly used in other areas, e.g. Zadith. Asra most likely found Stovie/Stovie’s egg during their travels, so could be either “wild" or “domesticated” option. The latter is most likely though, since then Asra would be sure that the critter is happy with that arrangement and won’t burn the house down.

Imagine a larger creature like this being a blacksmith’s familiar…

Important Stovie fact: 10/10 adorable

#the Arcana #the Arcana lore #the Arcana headcanons #stove salamander #the arcana worldbuilding

[sketchyjaybird]

Asra and friends! 🐍🦎

#the arcana #the arcana app #asra the magician #arcana asra #asra #faust #faust arcana #stove salamander #arcana fandom #arcana fanart #fan art #fanart #asra fanart #asra faust

[elsyrel]

Peekaboo!

#the arcana #The Arcana Game #lucio morgasson #count lucio #i'm not completely satisfied with this one #so i didn't bother colouring it #i think the stove salamander turned out cute though

[weaselle]

being a line cook is insane but people do it anyway

do you want to know the secret to why line cooks stay line cooks?

We're addicted to a certain aspect of the job. A sort of combination of Pride and Power.

See, most of what is going on in that restaurant comes down to you. If the restaurant was a dairy, you'd be the cow, everything is based on what you produce; how much, how fast, and of what quality.

And it's INSANELY hard for most people to do. It requires you to keep mental track of tons of stuff while doing complicated physical creation in a dangerous environment under intense pressure

Any line cooks reading this? let me recreate a moment most of us have had many many times

For the rest of you this will be a nice window into the line cook experience

you have a rail FULL of tickets, and the printer will NOT stop printing more.

You've got a stove FULL of stuff you're cooking, and half of it is for stuff you don't even have a ticket for, because of something on a table that already went out was wrong or missing, or a server forgot to put something on a ticket and needs it in a hurry, or...

the tickets you are working on are for tables that finished their appetizers 45 minutes ago, and it could be an hour before you even get a chance to read whatever the printer is currently printing.

You have a head FULL of stuff you're tracking: how quickly the sauce is thickening in this pan, whether the garlic is about to burn in that pan, how long before you drain the pasta in that pot before it over cooks. As soon as the thing in the oven for table 31 is 5 minutes from done you gotta put the other thing on the flat top to go with it, you're putting together Something on your board and you can't finish it because you need a refill of an ingredient from the walk-in but you can't go get it because if you leave the kitchen you'll burn the thing in the salamander. And you can't plate the thing in salamander yet because the Something you're putting together on your board is taking up all the room you had left in this disaster of a kitchen

Three people have just told you complicated changes to dishes you have to organize and keep in your head. Something like

"24 needs 3 gnocchi not 4, and 2 with no rosemary; 3 needs all 4 gnocchi to have extra rosemary, 2 with no garnish; 22 needs an extra gnocchi extra garnish no rosemary, salads are almost out you can go in 3 or 4 minutes"

The manager, assistant manager, about 8 servers, and a fuckton of people at tables are all waiting on YOU with an impatience bordering on fury.

right? sound familiar? okay that's not the moment, that's just the dinner rush on a night somewhere between bad and average.

The moment happens when, during this insanity, you reach an internal place where you become completely overwhelmed. Panic and frustration and over stimulus all rise up and wipe your brain completely clean. You can't think, you have no idea what to do, you want to run away, you want to quit, you can barely think of your own name, everything feels completely impossible.

And then. The Moment

You pull it back together.

You stop being overwhelmed, you stop panicking, you insist that it IS possible, and that you are going to do it. You decide what has to happen and you start. You clear all the clutter you can from your kitchen. You pull all your tickets as far down the rail as possible and scan through the tickets on the printer so you have an idea of how things are going to go. You write down a couple of times on tickets that you would usually keep in your head but you need the brain space. You group the tickets according to not only time but what dishes they have in common so you can do batches of things. You decide if you can just get these two things out of your way you'll be in a much better position and so you concentrate on getting those two things cooked and plated. You beg the dishwasher to grab you the thing you need from the walk-in. You call your assistant manager or manager into the kitchen and you tell them you need them to start you 8 gnocchis: 3 no rosemary one extra garnish, 4 extra rosemary two no garnish, and one normal.

Right? Okay so first of all, as you can see... The job is INSANE

and second of all. Not everybody is capable of that Moment. The moment you stare already-existing catastrophic failure in the face and tell it No. That moment.

and you have to be capable of that moment if you want to be a line cook.

Which means pretty close to zero other people in that restaurant can do what you can do.

So now let me tell you a story.

I was 19 years old. I was a line cook at an italian joint. We're slammed off our ass one night, and the manager is in the little galley kitchen with me, and he's just standing there because he isn't good enough to not be in the way if he tries to help

and he's over my should about everything, telling me to drain that more or turn the heat down on this etc.

Finally, I stop completely, look him dead in the eye, and say "Tony, i'm not cooking another thing until you leave this kitchen."

I'm 19. Ive worked here six months. Tony is twice my age and married to the owner's daughter. There is a heavy pause.

Then Tony turns around and walks out of the kitchen.

What's he going to do, send me home? Zero other people in this restaurant can do the thing that makes it a restaurant. If i go home the customers are going home too.

And that's the real reason most line cooks stay line cooks even though the job feels like a war you never win.

It's that interplay of Pride and Power. For those few hours, the restaurant is happening because of you.

That's the power.

For the other part, try pulling a cook off the line during the rush. You can't. Even if they are in the weeds. Maybe even especially if they are in the weeds.

Once i was working with a cook who, in the middle of the dinner rush, sliced is hand open - a cut both deep and wide, pouring blood. No bandage we had was going to be a solution for it.

So he popped a latex glove on that hand, triple wrapped a rubber band around his wrist to keep the blood in, washed with soap, and went right back to cooking.

Because it was the dinner rush and no one else could do the job, and he wasn't coming off that line.

30 minutes in he had to swap gloves because it had filled with blood like a water balloon and was making it hard to cook. Leaving the line was never even a question.

that's the pride

#He went to the emergency room after his shift and came in to work two days later all stitched up and ready to kick more ass in the kitchen #same cook use to pop out back during a rush and power hit an american spirit #if you don't know american spirits are notoriously long lasting cigarets #and power hitting means smoking the whole cig in one long breath #that was my first restaurant job washing dishes there #wild experiences in restaurants absolutely wild

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Hiii! May I, please, request the M6 with an MC who doesn’t show a lot of emotions and is regarded as apathetic by strangers, who actually likes to joke around and shows affection through quality time or acts of service?

Thank you 🫶🫶

The Arcana HCs: When MC comes across colder than they are

~ aww, anon! I had that struggle all through my teens, most of my friends told me they were scared to approach me at first until we actually talked XD I hope you enjoy these! - brainrot ~

Julian

Let's get this straight: you're smart, attractive, capable, single, and (seemingly) emotionally distant? Consider him whipped

Does he find you slightly intimidating? yes. Is that intimidation lethally attractive to him? ... also yes. Is this his sign to play off of that detached attitude as the roguish charmer he is? absolutely

So you can imagine his surprise when, as the two of you get closer, you start to show this playful, affectionate side that he never would have guessed at

Now he loves you twice as much as he used to, and he didn't even think that that was possible

Loves it when you spend quality time with him. He's so used to bouncing around the world by himself that having you set aside time to be with him is wonderfully new and fulfilling

Acts of service are nice too, but he gets so flustered and worked up if you don't let him reciprocate. Please let him reciprocate

Loves to tell the story of the cool, ruthless apprentice who stole his heart when he stole into their shop

Asra

They've known you for nine years. They know about your accidentally stand-offish exterior and how nice you actually are once you're comfortable around someone

You're not the only best friend he has who's like that *cough*Muriel*cough*

It does mean a lot to them that you feel comfortable enough around them to be playful and affectionate

It makes you that much sweeter to fall in love with, and that much harder to hide his feelings from

They find it endlessly entertaining to watch person after person approach you thinking that you're aloof, only to find out that you're genuinely kind and caring

He loves spending quality time with you. Lazing upstairs in the afternoon sun, reading a book and daydreaming while you do your thing snuggled next to him? Bliss. Pure bliss

They also appreciate your acts of service, but usually because they're terrible at remembering to do their share of the cleaning (that poor stove salamander really deserves a cleaner wood pile)

Nadia

She's pretty used to having an accurate and in-depth first impression of someone

And yet, despite you coming off as aloof and uninterested, she keeps catching glimpses of this wonderful warmth in your eyes

Color her intrigued

Very honored when you begin to act more casual and playful around her. It means you trust her enough to be yourself

She does feel guilty sometimes that you always manage to make quality time for her, when her schedule is often so hectic that she can't reciprocate to the same extent

However, when she can enjoy quality time with you (and she often does!) she dotes on you endlessly and savors every moment

She didn't expect acts of service from you. She's used to having assistance around the clock, and on top of that she values her independence and a peer-based relationship with you

But when you notice that she's tired, and have breakfast brought to her chambers so that she can sleep in? She's in love. She's so very in love

Muriel

You. He gets you. You are his kind of person

Finally, somebody he doesn't have to explain himself to! Though he still finds it a little disarming that his intimidating presence doesn't deter you from wanting to get to know him better

He knows from his own experience how valuable your trust and affection are, and as much as he hesitates to admit it, it gives him butterflies every time you open up to him a little bit more

Now when Asra forces him to attend a multiperson event, he has company when he stands in the corner and puts off "do not approach" vibes

It also means he has company when he feels safe enough to relax a little bit and enjoy connection with you. He has quality time for you in abundance (unless he's recharging his social battery)

He's also the kind of guy who prefers to let his actions speak for himself, so when you do little things to brighten up his day it means the world to him

You two around strangers + Inanna = peak intimidation tactics

Portia

Portia can get along with anyone if she puts her mind to it. She's not put off by your aura at all

If anything, she mistakes your apathy for mystery:

The powerful magician who calls themself an apprentice that the Countess had clairvoyant dreams about, sailing through the palace like they're untouchable. That's so cool

Very proud of herself when she "unlocks" your relaxed, affectionate, funny side. It means you see her as a worthy partner

She's the kind of person who likes to cram as much into her day as possible, so it takes a small paradigm shift for her to get used to your offers of quality time. She loves it once she does, though

You make her so flustered with your acts of service. She's used to being the person watching everyone's back and making sure things run smoothly behind the scenes

Having that kind of attention turned back in her direction is new and unexpected and more charming than she thought it would be

Likes to use your intimidation in important meetings because she comes off so friendly

Lucio

Right, so you triggered him a little bit at first

You're the first person in three years who can see and interact with him, and no matter what he does he feels like he keeps running into a wall of ice. To say you infuriate him is an understatement

(It doesn't help that you remind him of his mother in that way)

Of course, this only makes him more determined to earn your approval and affection

And he is so gratified when he receives it from you

It's a good thing that you like spending quality time with him, because with all the traveling the two of you do as journeymen there's lots of space for that

He doesn't know to recognize your acts of service until the two of you have to travel separately for a bit, and when he realizes how much you do for him every day he nearly breaks down into Melchior's fur (Mercedes was with you)

He laugh uproariously at all of your jokes, regardless of how good or bad they are

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana fluff #the arcana crack #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson

[stackofpossums]

Could I get a Hc for how the M6 would react to finding out Mc's past is worse than they thought? Like finding the shop is the point their life goes from awful to okay to eventually great. Before then? You can leave it as vague as you'd like.

(I have an Mc who was an executioner/pet similar but different from Muriels executioner/gladiator role being Their scars are from the person in charge and all their opponents were never given a chance. Another Mc who tried to live up to others expectations for him. Eventually forced to leave his home or die at 10 because his sister tried to murder him for a power he didn't even want. My third Mc who had abusive parents and learned from a passing by sparrow that they need to run away to save themselves.

What if before the shop Mc's life was actually horrible? So like to the point they never told anyone, not even Asra. Only telling stories about after they had moved to the shop to live with their aunt.)

I just finished a big assignment so Mc who has a dark past let's go:

Asra: He already knew MC past was dark and was kind of glad they didn't have to remember that when they lost their memories. Then they got their memory back. And oh. OH. He never knew it was this bad. At first, he's a little upset that MC never felt safe enough to confide in him. He quickly realizes, "No, it wasn't him." He's grateful MC chose to confide in him now, and he's going to do everything in his power to support them. He'll hold them and comfort them while they talk if MC is comfortable with that. The salamander has already lit the stove so he can brew some calming tea. Therapy has been scheduled. He is fully committed to helping MC heal as much as possible, mostly out of love, but there's a tiny part of him that feels guilty for not knowing sooner.

Julian: He thought he had it bad. He didn't know it could be this bad. He may be a doctor, but... for quite possibly the first time in his life, he knows he isn't qualified to fix this. He's gonna set MC up with the best mental health care. Until then, he's going to attempt to theraptize them himself. He encourages MC to talk not only about their past but also about how it made them feel, how they're feeling now, what challenges they are having, and anything and everything else they want to share. He's going to respond with hella words of affirmation, making sure MC knows how much he cares about them and that their safe now.

Nadia: Patiently listens to MC's story, no matter how gruesome the details are. She'll hold them tightly when it becomes too much for them to bear. There are no words to describe the hurt she feels for them to her very core. Afterward, she is setting them up with the best mental health support money can buy. Only the best therapists, medications, if MC wants to try them, or anything else. Anything MC thinks will help them is theirs. No expense is too great for her beloved MC. She's pretty venengeful, though. It'll be tough to convince her not to make the lives of anyone who's made MC suffer hell. She'll relent eventually, though, because she's knows if MC doesn't want that, it won't be helpful.

Muriel: Out everyone here, he understands it the most. It's a little hard for him to listen sometimes because he remembers times in his life where he felt just as hopeless as MC. He's here for MC, though, and makes it his mission to make sure MC NEVER feels that way again. He shares the techniques he's found for dealing with trauma, as well as helps MC find what works for them. He pushes them to keep going when he notices they are struggling. He comforts them when it's too much. He celebrates with them for every challenge they overcome, no matter how "small." It's the least he can do for them after everything they've done for him.

Portia: When MC first opens up about their past, their a bit afraid they're going to get squeezed to death by Portia's hugs. She's the other LI mostly likey to try to go after the people's who hurt her precious MC, she solves problems with fists flying. But that's okay. She's sneaky. She's going to make sure anyone who hurt MC wakes up to a fun surprise. Other than that, MC can always count on Portia for a listening ear. She will comfort MC through any story they need to tell and wants to help them find closure however she can.

Lucio: Oh. Oh no. No one gets to hurt his MC. No one. Who shall he defeat in battle for you? That won't help? Oh... well... what can he do? Lucio would do ANYTHING to make things better for MC. Just say the word. Hugs, he's here. No hugs? That's fine, too. He's here to listen. He knows a thing or two about unpleasant pasts. But you have each other now. MC has had his back despite everything he's done. It would be criminal not to do the same.

#lissy's headcanons #lissy answers #I hope you like pain #the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #the arcana asra #asra alnazar #the arcana julian #julian devorak #the arcana nadia #nadia satrinava #the arcana muriel #the arcana portia #portia devorak #the arcana lucio #lucio morgasson

[taduki]

Hey, Taduki, I recently started reading your Arcana headcanons. They’re great! I have a headcanon request if you’re interested. M6 with an MC who has a habit of turning into cats and other animals, eventually leading to heightened senses in their human form too.

Now I see why arcana asks pages are so stressed out 😭 I’m worried about disappointin’ y’all. It’s ok tho this looks fun. REALLY sorry it took so long… I’m writing this with specific powers in mind, comparing them to the powers Atreus has from the God of War series.

M6 w/ an MC Who Can Transform into Animals and Use Their Abilities

Asra

If you ask him about your relearning of abilities when you came back, he’ll have an entire book of the shenanigans you got up to: picking a fight with the stove salamander, “Which one’s the real Faust?”, “MC, don’t eat that !!”, the list just goes on, and for the sake of old memories, you like reliving some of those moments or maybe tying up loose ends you may have caused. (No wonder why the stove salamander was always so moody around you and your cold eggs).

It was honestly stressful, so you can imagine their relief and confidence in your abilities now. He had little to no worries about leaving you at the shop alone once you got used to them. This, of course, led to the events in the story.

This turns out to be a two sided coin though because they watched you learn and grow your instincts and it only made them want you more. You’re so gifted and special, they are so fascinated with you. Just imagine your adventures with them!

On your adventures, they ask for your help way-finding, gathering, and other useful activities, but sometimes they just like to humor you by asking of you the impossible. “MC, could you take a sniff at the stars? See where we are?”, and that smug grin plastered on his face makes you want to prove them wrong so badly, so you make it up based on the actual knowledge of your location to find your way ahead, and every. single. time. they just tease you, “That’s my lover, alright.”

You had little relations with Aisha and Salim at first, so they didn’t know of your abilities, like AT ALL. So, what does the mysterious and powerful Asra The Magician do? They propose you prank them, of course, and whatever you two did became an inside job for years to come. Aisha and Salim are interested in your powers. They’re powerful magicians too, yes, but you transform with such ease. So easily that you’ve retained the instincts of the animals you can turn into. It’s safe to say they’re reassured of you as a partner for dear Asra.

Julian

You have many opportunities to spook him while he’s working.

What’s that thing behind the ink pot? Oh, it’s you! You’re a mouse. Oh, now you’re a bird. Aww what cute little creature are you going to become now? — AHH A TIGER!!

Of course, he admires your capability to retain some of the animalistic abilities while you’re in human form. He may or may not be secretly super interested in your capabilities, but knows not to pry. He’s just proud of your independent magic.

You make the funny habit of being a part of his costumes/disguises. Now “Julio” has a pet squirrel !!

Secretly loves when you sneak your way to him unexpectedly. He loves surprises if they’re you. Follow him while he’s on an errand and when he comes home, mention something casually about it and he’ll turn around, so certain and wide-eyed like, “YOU were that cat!”, when you were actually the falcon flying overhead.

On the very rare occasion that he is called upon to aid an injured animal, he’ll mention it, but won’t expect you to help. Whether you’re actually knowledgeable about the anatomy of the animal or not, you find ways to help like cleaning or standing guard for their comfort. You might also find you can empathize with them. Tell Julian where not to touch, how he can better handle them, etc.

At the end of the day, he is forever grateful for you. He’ll give you all of his love as a reward…

Portia

Dealing with Pepi constantly interrupting her work was a real pain in her day, so if you’re willing to offer, she’ll be so relieved.

That’s not the bulk of it obviously, Portia loves new things and you’re all new things in one !!

At first, she treats it like a game. “A duck!! Ooh, what about one of those fancy birds in the garden?”, so if you decide to indulge her, she’ll be going about her business on palace grounds and suddenly get an MC wolf jumpscare from the bushes. Every day, she eyes the animals suspiciously, wondering if they’re you.

If you can interact with the animals, you could help her take care of them if you’d like. “Could you pollinate the flowers for me? Pleaseeeee?”

Oh, the delightful jokes of making her hair into a bird’s nest…

If you can get her away from her work, it’ll be easy to have fun. Go for a little shopping trip in town!! It’s a mission to find specific things for good prices, and you succeed every time. Her heart bursts with her love for you when you pick up little things that remind you of her.

Palace gossip is so funny now because she’ll hear one thing, and you’ll hear another thing somewhere else entirely, so you two just end up theorizing in the afternoons. Afternoon tea is now full of even more giggles and incredulous gasps. At this point, you’re pretty sure you’ve collected every backstory in Vesuvia.

Nadia

She’s just happy she can find more ways to provide for you. There is plenty of space in the gardens if you want to roam free or sniff flowers or just take a nice nap in the sun. If you really so wish, she’ll be happy to personally set up a room for your needs.

You surprise her everyday it seems like. Every time she thinks she’s seen it all, you defy her expectations, and it delights her (and potentially startles Chandra).

Speaking of Chandra, depending on what form you’ve taken on, you might want to give her space. She’s fully aware that’s you who just looks like an animal, but she’s very headstrong and instinctual. Even if Nadia has talked to her, she’s still a bit stubborn about it and will only interact with you if you’re in human form.

Of course, there are some exceptions to Chandra’s rule. She’ll be a little more comfortable and friendly if you’re in owl form. She may preen you. Other times, she will step in to protect you if you’re in danger.

When Nadia is in Business Mode, she’ll ask for your input on issues about animals in Vesuvia if you’re comfortable about it. She wants to find ethical solutions for every party in Vesuvia, which includes animals. How can she help the Flooded District while taking care of the fish and other underwater creatures? She honestly might not have even considered this in her plans if she didn’t meet someone with your abilities.

She does not hesitate to ask for your help outside of the palace. She is very confident in your abilities and admires you for them. You have earned high respect from various visiting parties, including the animals.

Muriel

Maybe Muriel doesn’t like humans that much, but he still loves you even if you’re another human he has to trust and talk to and — … Where did this cat come from?

Blinks a few times before letting the crazy catch up to him. “MC…?”

He doesn’t know how to feel about it at first, but then he remembers he literally lives in the forest with all the animals ever. This leads to both relief and worry. Relief because he finds it easier to get settled with you now that he can apply some of his knowledge to take care of you, but worries about letting you roam around in certain forms because how will he be able to protect you?

Inanna literally knows it’s you but still gets startled when you switch in front of her. Some forms make her worried about shoving or stepping on you, but the other ones she’s perfectly fine with. The best way to play with her is switching to a form around the same size as her that can run and/or jump fast. Some days, you just spent hanging out with her, exploring the forest together, and by the time you two come back to Muriel, he’s just happy to have you two back.

Sometimes he gets a little wistfully jealous of the animals that spend so much time with you. He didn’t imagine he could, but it’s more of like, “It’s too quiet. I miss them…”, and, “I want to spend time with them too…” He tries not to let it get to him, but if it’s really bothering at some point, he’ll tell you outright, “I want to be with you”, and proceed to become a bumbling mess of “I mean, AROUND you” and whatnots.

If you incline to spend more time with him, he’ll be so grateful, yet guilty that you’re having to hold back because of him. With enough time and patience, you two would work something out where some days you come home before dinner time and spent the rest of the day with him and leave after he feeds the chickens. Go ahead and pretend you’re one of the chickens!! Show him this can be fun too!

He so badly wants you to be happy. He loves you so.

Lucio

You have GOT to tell or demonstrate this to Lucio as soon as possible or he will try to hunt you for game. If he does try to hunt you and you transform back, he’ll be all over you with the following statements:

“Oh GOD, I’m so sorry MC! Are you okay?!” “That was really cool by the way.”

Once he’s past the awkward part, he has so many questions. How far can you jump? How high can you climb? CAN YOU FLY??? Can you become imaginary creatures?

Whether you can or can’t accomplish these feats, he also has many ideas. You two are journeymen now, and you live day to day off the spoils of your hunts and adventures. He thinks, with your abilities, you two could become much more efficient, and you ask him what he plans to do with the rewards, and he gets all flustered like he doesn’t want to take you on a nice, luxurious date.

When you explain you can use some of your abilities in your present human form, he is silently relieved he won’t have to keep checking if the animals he’s hunting are you. He’s moreso impressed, though. Whenever you tell him something like “it smells like rain”, he asks what it smells like for no particular reason. He just finds it fun to ask about and likes imagining what you’re sensing.

New friend for Mercedes and Melchior !! They’re very perceptive, and have no problems differentiating you from other animals, so when Lucio loses you in a field of bunnies, he can count on them to help out, but occasionally he’ll insist on being able to find you just so he can impress you. It never works in his favor though, and he gets a nasty bunny bite… “I didn’t even know they could bite!!”

#lucio morgasson #the arcana game #muriel of the kokhuri #nadia satrinava #the arcana muriel #asra alnazar #julian devorak #lucio montag #lucio the arcana #portia devorak #the arcana imagines #the arcana x mc #the arcana hc #portia the arcana #the arcana julian #the arcana headcanons #asra the arcana #nadia the arcana #the arcana nadia

[thearcanagame]

The stove salamander living in the apartment above the magic shop deserves some recognition for all its hard work!

#the arcana game #arcana #arcana game #the arcana #arcana memes #visual story #visual storytelling #visual storyteller #mobilegames #mobilegame #storygames #otome #tarot #interactive art #interactive story #romance visual novel #fantasy visual novel #otome game #gaming

[star-trekkin-across-theuniverse]

Shortbread, pt 1

I really need to find my creative soul again. So I looked up writing prompts on the google, and found one that instantly resonated with me and a full idea popped up.

Feel free to BUG THE SHIT out of me if I don't PROMPTLY update.

__________

You were flipping through your grandmother’s cookbook, reading the generations of recipes written in her familiar, cramped writing. You were warm with nostalgia, smiling as memories of time spent in the kitchen with her flooded your mind, the sepia-toned daydreams so evocative you could practically smell the shortbread’s buttery sweetness. With a purpose, you paged through the book and found the recipe. Scottish shortbread, your great-grandma’s recipe. 

In the kitchen, you were pleased to find you had the three required ingredients and set to work. It was a quick recipe, and it was baking in the oven within minutes. The wait for it to bake was longer, but you continued thumbing through the cookbook, reminiscing. 

When the timer rang, you could barely wait for the cookies to cool off before you broke a piece off and allowed it to melt in your mouth. Just as you remembered. You gingerly pulled the rest of the broken cookie off the sheet, and popped it in your mouth, closing your eyes and sighing in happiness.

When you opened your eyes, your apartment looked very different. Drastically different kitchen. The stove was only marginally recognizable as a stove, and you thought that might be an icebox across from it. A quick peek inside assured you that it was. The kitchen window overlooked an alley and from your suite on the 4th floor, you couldn’t see the pavement, but you could hear a racket coming from down below and stepped out onto the fire escape to see what was going on. 

A small, skinny man was holding a trash can lid up like a shield, defending himself against a much larger man. Before you could shout in protest, another large man, this one in a uniform, arrived and knocked out the aggressor. You dropped your cookie in surprise, and it hit the small man’s shield with a surprising amount of noise. 

Both men looked up at you, alarmed. You waved, sheepishly. The larger of the men let out a low whistle.

“Stevie, you didn’t tell me the dame in 412 was such a looker,” he smiled, tipping his hat. You realized as he did so that he was in a military uniform.

“I’ve never met her, Bucky,” Stevie answered.

“Well, I think your eye needs the touch of a beautiful woman,” Bucky replied and looked up at you. “Hey sweetheart, you think you could take a look at my buddy?”

“Uh,” you paused, considering your situation. You looked back into your apartment. Other than you, nothing looked out of place. “Sure, come on up.”

To be continued…

__________

@rampant-salamander, @bolontiku, @castiels-sunflowers

[luciosfanpage]

why do they call it oven when you of in the cold food out hot eat the food

#incorrect quotes #count lucio #lucio morgasson #lucio the arcana #the arcana #the arcana game #stove salamander #why do they call it oven #garfield oven meme

[mermaidchan05]

Vesuvia Weekly: Putting It Together

CHOO CHOO ALL ABOARD THE ANGST TRAIN

For @vesuviaweekly 's "cooking class" event. The prompt made me think of Asra teaching the Apprentice to cook after they first woke up, which led to... well, all of this XD

Approx. 2600 words.

Featured characters: Asra and my OC Meleia (she/her), with important appearances by Faust and the stove salamander.

TW for panic attacks and flashbacks. But there IS a happy ending, and the flashback doesn't last too long.

_________________

It was amazing, really, how the smallest things had a way of leaving the biggest impact.  

After Meleia woke up with  no memories and very little control over her new body, Asra was forced to take things one step at a time.  They both were.  It always started so simple, a few shaky steps here and there, a few words that Asra recognized… but every change was important.  And it all added up amazingly quickly. Meleia was doing so well now.   

True, Meleia still had her struggles.  Crowds were debilitatingly overwhelming, she didn’t quite have the strength for going out on her own yet, and there was still a bit of a language barrier.  But so, so much progress had been made.

The next step was working on meals.  Meleia was well enough now to start cooking on her own instead of relying on Asra.  He had to admit, he was proud.

And though he would never admit it, he was decidedly nervous.

For their first official cooking lesson, they were starting with a simple dish.  Meleia loved mushrooms. And they had plenty of rice around.  So fried mushroom rice it was.  Asra hadn’t made anything like this in a while, and as far as he knew, Meleia had never made anything like it, even in her previous life.  But it seemed a safe place to start.  It was hard to mess up just throwing things together and heating them up.

Not impossible, as Asra had proven many times over.  But difficult enough to make him assume they were safe.  

But, naturally, got off to a rocky start.  And not due to any fault of Meleia’s or Asra’s.  The stove salamander was simply refusing to cooperate. 

Asra leaned closer to the grate.  “Come on, little one… we really need your help.”

The stove salamander pouted at Asra, then deliberately turned his back on him.  Asra sighed. 

Meleia put a hand on his shoulder.  Asra carefully stood up, making sure not to shake her away.

“What is it?” he asked gently.

He half expected Meleia to need help with something.  Or for her to need some support in standing up.  It was still hard for her to be on her feet for long periods of time…

But she stood tall, more than tall enough for Faust to balance happily across her shoulders.  And she was smiling.  She quickly let go of Asra’s shoulder and nodded towards the grate.

“I… can help,” she said, only slightly haltingly.  “Let me try.”

Asra couldn’t help but beam in pride.  “Of course.”

He stepped out of the way, allowing Meleia to crouch down so she was right near the stove salamander.  And she started talking to the little magical creature, her tone soft and gentle.  She was speaking a language that Asra still didn’t recognize, even after all this time. 

From the very first time she woke up, Meleia had understood Asra perfectly.  But in yet another unexpected side effect of getting an entirely new body, she had apparently fallen back into whatever her native language was.  She was still learning how to speak the common language of Vesuvia out loud, and Asra had only managed to pick up a couple of her unfamiliar words.  But they understood each other. 

And clearly, the stove salamander understood her as well as he understood anybody.  Meleia kept gently coaxing him.  The salamander was clearly a little grumpy about something.  But he wasn’t immune to Meleia’s charms.  In moments, the salamander was carefully stepping into Meleia’s offered hands.

She lifted the stove salamander up closer to her eye level, laughing fondly.  Asra’s heart thudded.  He loved that sound.  Always had.  And she looked so adorable cooing at the salamander.  Even more so when he pressed his sooty little nose against her own.  Multiple times.  The aftermath almost made her look like she had a few extra freckles.

Then Faust tilted her head.  The stove salamander looked back at her.  And Faust twisted so she was looking at Asra.

Messy stove, Faust reported.

Asra flushed a bit.  “Ah… I must have forgotten to dust out the stove again…”

Silly Asra, said Faust.

“Right.  Silly Asra.”  Asra managed another little smile.

It was far from a simple case of “silly Asra.”  Asra hated cleaning the soot out of the stove.  He didn’t enjoy dusting, either.  The dust and soot all over his hands… it brought back unpleasant memories.

But Meleia didn’t need to know that.  So he forged on.

“You keep holding him, alright?” he said, keeping his smile pasted on.  “I’ll clean up.”

“Thank you,” said Meleia, beaming at Asra.

Asra’s heart thudded.  “Thank you” was one of the first additions to her vocabulary after she started picking up the common language of Vesuvia.  And Asra was always moved when he heard it. 

She was really growing in strides.  And that made everything worth it.

Asra cleaned up as quickly as he could.  Meleia was very happy to hold onto the stove salamander.  She laughed when he scurried across her palms in little circles, and kept chatting to him in her native language.  Asra listened as he worked, focusing on the wonderful sound of her voice instead of the horrible feeling of ash on his fingers.

The moment he was done, Asra immediately washed his hands.  He couldn’t even allow himself a little sigh of relief.  He had to smile for Meleia’s sake. 

“There we are,” he said.  “All set.  Are we ready to get started?”

Meleia eagerly nodded.

At first, everything went smoothly.  The stove salamander settled into his newly-cleaned spot and got a fire started.  Meleia diligently followed Asra’s instructions.  And it was rather nice, working close together in the cozy kitchen.  It almost reminded Asra of the way things had been before.

But no.  He couldn’t allow himself to think about that.  Meleia deserved to have a choice in whom she spent time with.  Just like she deserved to choose her preferred food. 

For as long as he had known her, Meleia had never eaten any meat, though cheese and butter and things like that were fine.  As far as he knew, there was no medical reason for it.  Just a matter of preference.  So he had carefully introduced the idea of making a new choice when she first woke up.

She’d stuck with her traditional preferences.  Asra rather appreciated that.  It was good to know that some things hadn’t changed.

Still… he had to be very careful when it came to food.  Nothing triggered Meleia’s memories quite like a familiar smell.  And that made some foods very dangerous.  Asra was lucky that the pumpkin bread they both loved so much hadn’t had the same effect on her as the first time he had made them both some simple pasta with cream sauce….  

She had grown so much.  But there were some risks he simply couldn’t take.

Asra firmly shook his head, trying to stop the spiral of dark thoughts.  Meleia gave him a questioning look.  As always, Asra answered with an easy smile.

“Sorry,” he said.  “Just lost in thought.  And it looks like you’ve gotten the butter and garlic all taken care of.”

Meleia beamed at him.  “Yes.  Ready.”

Asra’s heart swelled with pride.  “Perfect.  Let’s put the mushrooms in.”

He allowed himself to squeeze even closer to Meleia, their shoulders brushing together, while they moved onto the next step in the recipe.  Which was probably part of the reason things went wrong.

The kitchen was small enough as it was.  And Asra had never been one to put things like dishes and mugs away after washing them.  What was the point, when he was just going to use them again the next day anyway?  Far more convenient to leave them near the sink.

The truly unfortunate thing was that the sink happened to be dangerously close to the stove.  So it was probably only natural that Meleia’s elbow bumped into a mug.  And, of course, said mug immediately hit the floor, shattering on impact. 

Asra winced at the sound.  His pulse spiked.  But that was nothing compared to Meleia’s reaction.  Her breath caught.  And she went utterly rigid at the sudden crash. 

Asra immediately turned his attention to her.  “Meleia, are you hurt?”

Meleia shook her head.  She crouched down, moving to clean up the mess.

Asra quickly caught her hand.  “No, don’t touch those.  Not with your bare hands.  Here… I can help.”

Meleia shook her head again, a bit more stubbornly this time.  “My fault.  I… s-sorry…”

“It’s alright,” Asra said gently.  “It was an accident.  And no one was hurt.  That’s what’s important.”

Meleia still looked utterly guilt-ridden.  “But…”

“It’s fine.”  With a flick of his fingers, Asra used a little magic to safely gather up all the broken pieces.   “See?  No harm done.”

“But… Asra…”  Meleia hesitantly reached out a hand.  “Your… most liked?”

“My favorite?” Asra clarified.

Meleia nodded.

Asra glanced at the shattered fragments.  He recognized the pattern, now.  All the air seemed to rush out of his lungs.

“Asra, I… n-not want…” Meleia choked out.  She was near tears by then.  “My fault.  I’m sorry…”

Asra couldn’t respond.  He hardly heard her.  Not over the sound of his own pulse pounding in his ears.  Of his own breathing coming far too quickly.  Of the shards of ceramic shattering further as they clattered to the floor, his magic immediately petering out in his panic.  

He was back, back in a time when Meleia was still gone.  When the world had seemed so broken, so empty.  When nothing mattered but finding a way to see her again.  And it was his fault, it was all his fault… he had left her, fought with her, abandoned her, just so she could fall to the plague.  And then… he had made so many more mistakes.

“Asra?”  

Asra had forgotten how to breathe.  His hands were shaking.  Traces of soot still lingered on his fingers.  It was just from cleaning the grate.  He knew that.  But to his eyes, the soot looked like the crimson-stained ash of the Lazaret.      

And the shards of his mug had become the even more broken fragments of Meleia’s favorite teacup.   

All he could do was stare, eyes wide, hands shaking.  A hollow pit had opened up in his stomach, nearly consuming his entire being.  He felt just like he had back then.  The cup was hers, one that Asra had never dared to use even when it was clean, since it was so special to her.  A memory of her life before Vesuvia.  It had been hers, and now it was gone, and she was gone…

Everything was gone…

“Asra…”

A gentle touch on his shoulder made Asra flinch.  He whipped around… only to see Meleia, staring up at him with eyes wide in concern.  Asra’s heart tore a little more at the look on her face.

She wasn’t supposed to see him like this.

Asra managed to take a breath.  “I’m sorry, Meleia.  I must have gotten lost in thought again…”

Faust somehow managed to scoot across Meleia’s shoulders and transfer herself over to Asra.  She gave him a gentle, grounding squeeze.

Safe, she promised.  Friend here.

Asra took another breath.  He was still far from himself.  Still felt a bit detached.  But it was better.  And Faust was right.  Meleia was there.  That was what mattered. 

Meleia clearly knew something was still wrong.  She gazed at Asra for a moment more, searching his face.  Probably looking for some way to help.  Asra did his best to smile for her.  To show her that he was alright, no matter how far from the truth that may have been.  It wasn’t very convincing.   

Then, slowly, Meleia looked at the broken mug.  And with a little frown of concentration—a look that Asra had always found heartbreakingly adorable—she copied the spell Asra had used.  She gathered up the shards of ceramic and collected them all in her skirt.  Then she sort of… stared at them.  She looked rather forlorn.

“My fault,” she said again.  “I’m sorry…”

“It’s alright,” Asra insisted.  He carefully put a hand over hers.  “It’s just a mug.  Besides, we can fix it.  Here… let me teach you a spell.”

As he had done a hundred times before, he gently guided her through this impromptu magic lesson.  With every word, every gentle touch to guide her hands, his panicked heartbeat slowed.  His breathing grew calmer.  His trembling hands stilled. 

By the time the magic was done, he was nearly himself again.  And the mug was whole.  Almost.  It was put together again, at least, and it would work perfectly.  But there were still some faint cracks.  A little chip had gone completely missing.  And the pattern was ever so slightly off. 

Meleia looked even more heartbroken than before. 

“What’s wrong?” Asra asked.

“It’s… broken,” she said.  “Still.”

“It’s fine,” said Asra with a little smile.  “We can use it again now.  That’s enough.”

Meleia’s fingers carefully traced the now-imperfect pattern.  “All wrong…”

Asra hummed thoughtfully.  “Is it?  I think it’s still beautiful.  It’s different, but that doesn’t make it bad.  There’s a kind of beauty in fixing something, too.  In seeing all the scars.  Now it’s unique.”

“Unique…” Meleia repeated, slowly sounding out the word.

“Yes,” said Asra.  “One of a kind.  And that’s part of what makes it beautiful.”

Meleia slowly picked up the mended mug.  Her gaze was rather distant, and still decidedly sad, as she turned it this way and that.  Asra saw how lovely the new, no-longer-symmetrical pattern was.  But he was sure that Meleia was just seeing the traces of the cracks.

“Broken,” she said again.  “Like me.”

Asra’s heart lurched.  He carefully wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into a gentle hug.  Meleia sank into his embrace. 

“No, Meleia,” he whispered.  “You’re not broken.  I know things have been… challenging.  But you’re doing so well.  And no matter what happens, you are a whole person.  A wonderful person.”

Meleia took a shaky breath.  She blinked back tears.  She leaned against Asra a moment more, nearly snuggling into the hug.  After another few heartbeats, she pulled back. 

And she was smiling again.  It was faint, but it was genuine.

“Asra?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you,” she said.

Asra smiled in return.  “You’re welcome.  Did I help?”

“Yes.”  Meleia’s smile grew a little wider.  Then she glanced up at the stove… and the probably-a-little-too-crispy mushrooms.  “Try again?”

“Of course,” said Asra.  He got to his feet, taking her hand and pulling her up as well.  “Let’s make this the best mushroom rice dish the world has ever seen.”

Meleia laughed.  And any remaining worry in Asra’s heart faded.  If only for the moment.

Meleia always had a way of making things seem brighter.

The mushroom rice didn’t come out quite the way Asra had expected.  Especially when they wound up spending more time making a game out of tossing the rice into the pan instead of just pouring it in there.  But it was delicious nonetheless.  And Asra was happy that Meleia was feeling better. 

She had never voiced the thought before.  But Asra doubted that this was the first time she had thought of herself as broken.  Asra was grateful that he was able to cheer her up.  And eternally thankful for every moment they shared. 

Maybe, in a way, things really were like the mug.  They were still picking up some pieces.  Still learning how to put everything back together.

Nothing would ever be the same as it was before.  But they could still make something beautiful.     

#vesuvia weekly #cooking class #the arcana #the arcana game #fanfic #oneshot #my stuff #my writing #apprentice meleia #asra x apprentice #tw flashbacks #tw panic attack #angst with a happy ending

[ivquatro]

🍪The stove salamander and the cookies🍪

After I'd finished, I thought it looked like an explosion in the background, but it'll stay that way anyway, I like to imagine that they've both blown up the magic shop, trying to cook. (Sabel is terrible at cooking and Lucio isn't far behind.) This is definitely my favorite scene in the game. (He's so cute in this scene that I almost forgot what a terrible person he is.)

#the arcana #the arcana mc #the arcana game #count lucio #lucio x mc #the arcana lucio #lucio morgasson #my art #fanart #witch sabel

[thelastspeecher]

Weird Little Critter - Chapter 2: Study

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 AO3

Here's the next chapter of the thing @elishevart and I have been working on together! Enjoy some quality axolotl Ford moments!

——————————————————————————————

              The sun had just begun to peek over the horizon when Angie sat bolt upright in bed, abruptly overcome by the events of the night before.  She threw her covers off and ran to the bathroom.  She had to reassure herself it hadn’t all just been a dream.

              The bathroom door still lying on the floor indicated that at least some of what she remembered was true.  Angie made a mental note to track down a toolbox from somewhere to fix it later.  She crept through the doorway as silently as she could, holding her breath as she approached the bathtub.  Her breath escaped in a soft gasp when she saw the mysterious creature still sleeping below the surface of the water.

              Getting a good look at Ford’s strange form in the light of the day, when she was fully lucid, made it possible for her to notice more subtle details.  His light pink skin along his back had stray tiger stripes of a barely lighter pink.  He had random spots of black and light green that looked more like freckles than the kind of coloration that helped with camouflage.  His caudal fin was a baby blue, as were his external gills and the tuft of material on top of his head in the same shape as his hair.  His external gills flicked slowly, matching the pace of his breathing.  Ford rolled over onto his back, exposing his solid white belly.  Angie barely held back a squeal at just how adorable the movement had been.  It reminded her of one of the many kittens the farm cats had back home.

              All right, best get out of this room ‘fore I get overwhelmed by the cuteness and wake ‘im up.  Angie glanced at the window above the tub.  The moon was still in the sky, but slowly drooping behind the tree line.  She had some time before Ford returned to normal.

              Angie hurried back to her room, grabbed her camera, and took a few photos of Ford.  Then, she went to get dressed and brushed her teeth in the kitchen sink.  She didn’t want to be in the bathroom, just in case her friend transformed back to a fully nude human while she was brushing her hair.  A faint blush spread across her cheeks at the thought.

              Once she was ready, Angie grabbed a pencil and new field notebook, then sat down at the kitchen table to jot down what she had observed thus far.

              His features are broadly similar to that of an axolotl, though that could be a false lead.  Angie tapped her pencil against the paper, thinking.  The traits that make him resemble an axolotl, namely the external gills and caudal fin, aren’t inherent to axolotls.  They’re just juvenile traits that have been retained to adulthood.  Presumably, any salamander that retained those traits would be axolotl-like in appearance.  Ford’s also far bigger than any axolotl I’ve ever heard of.  There are larger salamanders out there, but none of them have the coloration that Ford has.  Of course, the coloration he has doesn’t fit an axolotl well, either.  I don’t think even leucistic axolotls look like that…

              Angie had been chewing on her thoughts and idly writing them down when she heard noise coming from the second floor.  Water splashed, followed by a loud thud and soft grunt of discomfort.  She smiled.

              ‘Bout time he woke up.  Angie got up from the table and got started on breakfast.  By the time Stanford entered the kitchen, wearing clean clothes but his hair still damp, the small room had been filled with the smell of brewing coffee.  Ford made a beeline for the coffeemaker and poured himself a cup.  Only after he took his first sip did he notice Angie standing at the stove, watching him with amusement.

              “Oh!”  Ford startled slightly.  Angie chuckled.  “I, uh, I didn’t realize you were…”

              “It’s okay.  Ya needed yer coffee to fully wake up.  I get it.”  Angie shrugged.  “Rarely is there a day that I don’t take quite some time to shake off the sleep m’self.”

              “Are you making breakfast?” Ford asked.  Angie looked down at the skillet sizzling away in front of her.  She looked back at her friend.

              “I certainly hope so,” she drawled.  Ford turned pink.

              “You didn’t have to.”

              “Do we have to have this conversation every time I make food fer us?  I was raised right, Stanford.  Now, sit down.  The eggs ‘re almost done.”  Ford obeyed and went to the table.  He sat in the chair Angie had been occupying, raising an eyebrow at the open notebook with her observations.

              “You’ve gathered quite a few notes in a short amount of time,” he remarked, flipping through the pages.  Angie smiled.  She carefully slid an omelet onto a plate and placed it in front of Ford, then grabbed her own and sat across from him.

              “I’m a quick learner ‘n observer.  It’s what I was trained to do.  Ya don’t always get much time with critters, so you’ve got to be able to notice a lot ‘bout ‘em fast.  It helps that I had a bit of a head start with the rumors I heard.  But most of m’ notes are just speculation and comparison between critters I know ‘bout.”  Angie paused to eat a few forkfuls of her breakfast.  “I know I said you resemble an axolotl, but I ain’t quite sure anymore.”  Ford swallowed his mouthful of food before replying.

              “Because of my size?” he asked, sounding slightly sheepish.  Angie chuckled.

              “Yer definitely bigger ‘n any axolotl ever recorded, but there are some salamanders out in Asia what are even bigger ‘n you!”

              “Really?”

              “Oh, yes.  The zoo I used to work fer had one of ‘em Chinese giant salamanders.  That sucker was just ‘bout as big as me.”  Angie chewed her breakfast for a few moments.  “Yer features in that other form don’t resemble any single salamander I know of.  Could be a hybrid or maybe even a whole new species.  Frankly, given that yer some sort of were-critter, anything is possible!  Ain’t that excitin’?”  Ford was silent.  He poked his omelet halfheartedly.  “…Stanford?”

              “To be frank…”  He set down his fork with a loud sigh.  “This is exciting.  Or rather, it would be, were I not the subject.  This is all rather overwhelming.”

              “I understand.”

              “But even with being overwhelmed, I am still most excited to finally get some answers about what happened to me, what I’ve become.”  Ford offered a weak smile.  Angie returned the expression.  “I look forward to picking your brain further and discussing our own observations.”

              “Yessir,” she said with a nod.  “I reckon we can talk and plan after we go to the store.”

              “Pardon?” Ford asked.

              “Stanford, I told ya, yer current lifestyle ain’t beneficial fer whatever kind of creature ya are now.  After breakfast, we’re headin’ to the store to find some dif’rent body care items.”

              “But-”

              “I ain’t takin’ no fer an answer,” Angie said firmly.  She got up from the table and set her empty plate in the sink.  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve needed the restroom fer quite some time.”

-----

              “Can’t believe they didn’t have a single thing I was lookin’ fer,” Angie’s voice carried through the door of Ford’s bedroom.

              “Are you still thinking about that?” Ford asked as he removed his clothes.  He could feel a tingling sensation beginning to spread across his skin, as though he was getting goose bumps on his entire body.  The full moon was going to rise soon.  “This is a small town.  I have to order most of my more specialized equipment to be mailed in.”

              “I know,” Angie whined.  Despite a fervent and thorough search of the various shops in town earlier that day, they returned home empty-handed when Angie couldn’t find any of the items on her list.  “I got too used to livin’ in a big city where ya can find everything ya need without leavin’.”  She sighed.  “I guess we’ll just have to go to Eugene at some point.”

              “We don’t have to.  I’ve been fine thus far.”

              “That ‘fine’ is very debatable,” Angie said firmly.  “And think about it like a scientist, Stanford.  We’ll learn more ‘bout yer condition if we learn how to make ya operate on the same level ya were ‘fore it happened.”

              Dammit.  She has a point.

              “Yer not sulkin’, are ya?” Angie teased.  “Don’t worry, I ain’t always right.”  Ford chuckled despite himself.  Suddenly, the pricking sensation turned into needles.  He let out a gasp of pain.  Angie shifted outside the door.  “Stanford?”

              “Please…go downstairs,” Ford grunted.  Angie had managed to talk him into allowing her to listen to his transformation, but he knew she couldn’t stay.

              Like F, she has too kind of a heart.  It would pain her to hear what comes next.  To her credit, Angie didn’t try to argue.

              “Okay,” Angie said softly.  He heard her gently place her hand on the door.  “If ya can’t get out when yer done, smack yer tail on the floor three times ‘n I’ll let ya out.”

              “Under…stood,” Ford managed.  Pain flared through his flesh, seeping into his bones.  He wouldn’t be able to hold back much longer.  Footsteps sounded as Angie walked away.  Once the footsteps faded, Ford dropped to all fours.  He screamed as his bones rearranged.  Six points around his head and neck itched, then burned when his gills erupted.  A similar sensation accompanied the growth of his tail.  The most painful part was over, but what remained was more uncomfortable.  Ford fell to his side, groaning.  He could feel his flesh rippling and shrinking, his skin changing.

              After what felt like hours, the lingering pain and discomfort finally faded.  Ford laid on the floor, panting.  He didn’t want to move.

              Angie’s waiting.  She’ll get worried if you don’t communicate with her in some way.  She might even take down another door.  Angie repaired the bathroom door after lunch, requiring only a bit of help, as she couldn’t reach the top hinge well.  Ford slowly, effortfully, got to his feet and traipsed over to the door.  He stood on his hind legs, using his tail to balance so that he could turn the doorknob.  To his relief, the door swung open with ease.

              “Stanford?” Angie called from downstairs.

              “I’m coming,” Ford squeaked.  His high-pitched voice was quieter than he expected.  He cleared his throat and tried again.  “I’m coming!”  Staying on his hind legs, Ford clumsily made his way to the stairs.  “Dammit.”  His vision, poor normally, was even worse in this form.  He reached out a paw to steady himself against the wall and, at an agonizingly slow pace, crept downstairs.  By the time he reached the first floor, Angie was already waiting.  “H-hello.”

              “Goodness, I just want to pick ya up and squeeze ya!” Angie burst out.  “Yer too cute, consarnit!”  Ford blushed.  “Okay, now I got that out of my system…”  She crouched down so that she was at his eye-height.  “Why did ya walk on yer hind legs?  Surely walkin’ on all fours would be easier ‘n more comfortable.”

              “I’m fine,” Ford said.  Angie pursed her lips.

              “If that’s what ya want to do, I can’t stop ya.  Now, come on over with me.  I’ve got all my equipment ready.”  Angie stood to her full height and walked into the living room.  Ford followed her, continuing to walk on two legs.  In the living room, Angie had placed a mat on the floor, which she directed Ford to stand on.  She sat cross-legged in front of him and began to take measurements.  When she measured the length of his external gills, her fingers brushed up against one.  The gill instinctively twitched.  Angie paused.

              “What?”

              “Did ya do that on purpose?”

              “No, it was a reflex.”

              “…Can ya do it on purpose?”

              “I don’t know.  I’ve never tried.”

��             “Would ya mind tryin’ fer me?” Angie asked.

              “Um…”

              “Maybe next time,” Angie said, smoothly moving on.  Ford let out a small sigh of relief.  He wasn’t opposed to trying to move his gills on purpose, but he was feeling an extremely high level of anxiety.

              Even if I can move it, I doubt I could while being studied so intensely.  Angie continued to take her measurements, jotting each one down in her notebook.

              “There’s that done,” she said softly, setting the measuring tape aside.  She smiled at Ford.  “If you want, you can sit down.  I don’t need ya standin’ fer this next part.”  Ford gladly sat down, being careful to move his tail to the side so it wasn’t directly under him.

              “Now what?” he asked.

              “I’m just goin’ to make some qualitative notes on yer appearance,” Angie said.  She picked up Ford’s tail and gently ran her fingers along his fin.  “Texture, color, things of that nature.”

              “And then?”

              “Then I figured we could do some tests.  Walkin’, runnin’, checkin’ yer vision,” Angie rattled off.  She got up and walked around to look at Ford’s back.  He shivered as she traced her finger down his spine.  “I’m treatin’ this like the annual check-up ya get at the doctor’s.  It’ll give us a lot of data.”  Angie sighed heavily.  “I ain’t quite sure what to do with all the data, but that’s somethin’ we can discuss together.”  Ford nodded.  “After I’m done gettin’ measurements ‘n whatnot, I figure we’ll talk about yer experiences since becomin’ this critter.”

              “That sounds like a good idea,” Ford said.  He yawned widely.  He was still a bit tired from the previous night.

              “Oh!  Could ya open yer mouth again so’s I can look?” Angie asked eagerly.

              “Okay.”  Angie came around to Ford’s front again.  Ford opened his mouth.  Angie grabbed a small flashlight and shone it into his mouth, a look of concentration and curiosity on her face.  A look that Ford recognized as one he made on a regular basis.

              Is this how I act around the anomalies of Gravity Falls?  Angie muttered something under her breath and scribbled in her notebook.  Sweet Moses.

-----

              An alarm clock was going off somewhere.  Ford reluctantly opened his eyes, blinking away a crusty film that had formed while he slept.  Angie was slumped over, fast asleep, a few feet away, still in her now thoroughly wrinkled overalls and yellow T-shirt.  She even held a pencil limply in one hand.  Ford pushed himself up into a seated position.

              Shit.  We must have fallen asleep while discussing Angie’s observations.  He shivered.  Why am I so cold?  Angie grumbled something and sat up as well.  Their eyes met.  Angie’s gaze briefly dipped south before rocketing back up, her face beet red.  Ford suddenly realized why he was cold.  I am not wearing a single stitch of clothing.

              “I, um, I will go get dressed,” Ford stammered.  He stood up.  Angie’s face turned even redder.  She quickly looked away.  Ford turned around and bolted out of the living room.  As he dressed, he desperately tried to tamp down his embarrassment and humiliation at Angie seeing him completely nude.

              She was flustered by it as well.  Just like me, she’ll want to move on from it without any discussion.  Ford pulled on a turtleneck sweater, hoping it would stifle his shivers.  However, even fully clothed, he was still cold.  Ugh.  I hope I’m not getting sick.  He shrugged off the concern and returned downstairs.

              Angie was leaning against the wall, paging through her notebook, a thoughtful expression on her face.  Ford coughed quietly.  She looked up, smiled, and tucked her notebook under one arm.

              “I was just goin’ over some of my notes,” she chirped.  “I figure we can discuss ‘em durin’ breakfast?”  Ford nodded, relieved.

              As I hoped, Angie would like to avoid mentioning my nudity earlier as well.  He wiped his suddenly sweaty forehead.  Spots danced in front of his eyes.

              “So!” Angie said.  “What do ya want fer breakfast?”  Ford opened his mouth to answer, but before he could, his vision went completely black.

-----

              Ford awoke to the smell of something cooking in the kitchen.  He slowly pushed himself up into a seated position and took stock of where he was.  He was laying on the couch in the living room, a thick blanket gently laid on top of him.  There was a pillow where his head had just been resting.

              Angie must have moved me to the couch after I…wait, did I pass out?  But why?  Ford pressed a hand against his forehead, suddenly aware of a raging headache.  Why do I feel so horrible?

              “I left some water fer ya!” Angie called from the kitchen.  Ford looked over at the dinosaur skull he had repurposed as an end table.  Sure enough, a glass of water sat on it.  He picked up the glass, ignoring the dull, deep ache permeating through his entire body, and downed the entire drink.  “I would’ve liked a heads up that he’s so good at pushin’ himself to fallin’ down,” Angie continued.  Ford frowned, confused.  “Oh, hush.  I ain’t that bad.”  There was a pause.  “No, even ‘fore grad school I was better ‘n he is!”

              Oh.  She’s on the phone.  Presumably with F.  Ford leaned back and closed his eyes.  His head continued to throb painfully.  After a few minutes, he heard Angie hang up the phone and enter the living room.  He opened his eyes again.  She stood by the side of the couch, dressed in clean clothes and carrying a bowl in her hands.  Steam rose from it, along with a tantalizing smell.

              “I was awful shocked to see ya go down like that,” Angie remarked.  “Reminded me of the time a diabetic collapsed against me at the DMV.  But at least ya didn’t take me down with ya.”  She set the bowl down on the end table.  “I whipped up some vegetable soup.  Chicken is, in my opinion, more healin’, but we didn’t have any, and I didn’t want to leave ya alone to go shoppin’.”

              “Thank you,” Ford croaked.  He picked up the bowl and took a sip from it.  Like everything Angie made, it was delicious.  Angie frowned.

              “Ya sound awful!”

              “…Thanks.”

              “You know what I mean,” Angie scoffed.  “Sounds like ya were garglin’ with rocks.”

              “It feels like it, too.”

              “What happened?”

              “I’m not quite sure.”

              “I was just talkin’ to Fidds on the phone.  He told me ya have a tendency to push yourself too hard.  But it didn’t seem like ya pushed yourself too much recently.  Unless…”  Angie trailed off.  Ford looked at her curiously.

              “Unless what?” he asked.

              “Well…”  Angie sat at the end of the couch.  Ford made room for her.  “When we first woke up, I noticed somethin’ that ya tend to cover up with yer clothes.”  Ford felt his face promptly burn.  He quickly took another long drink of the soup to avoid eye contact with her.  Angie’s eyes widened.  “Not- not that!  No, I just- ya seem awfully scrawny to me.  Have ya been eatin’ right?”

              “I…”  Ford set the bowl in his lap and rubbed the back of his neck.  “I have lost some weight,” he confessed.  “Since I developed this…condition, my tastes seem to have changed.  Much of what I used to enjoy disgusts me, and what I can manage to choke down causes me to vomit roughly a third of the time.”

              “Hmm.”  Angie frowned at the floor.  “Could be that yer gastrointestinal system has been affected, same way yer skin has.  After all, salamanders don’t really eat what humans eat.”

              Great.  Yet another inconvenience with this condition.

              “I doubt that my struggles to find an appropriate diet were the cause of this particular loss of consciousness,” Ford said.  Angie looked at him.  “I’ve been dealing with it for quite some time.”

              “True,” Angie murmured.  She leaned over to rest the back of her hand against Ford’s forehead.  “Ya still feel a bit warm, but not as feverish as ya were when ya first passed out.  Maybe ya just caught a bug of some sort?”

              “Maybe.”

              That doesn’t feel like the right answer, but I don’t know what else it could be.

              “You should prob’ly spend the rest of the day on the couch.  Unless ya feel up fer makin’ yer way to yer proper bed?” Angie suggested.  Ford shook his head.  “Fair enough.”  She smiled sheepishly at him.  “Sorry I could only move ya to the couch.  I’m stronger ‘n I look, but no taller ‘n I seem.  The dif’rence in our heights kept me from takin’ ya to yer room more ‘n the dif’rence in our weights.”

              “It is quite all right.”

              “When ya transform tonight, you’ll be smaller, so’s I can take ya upstairs to the bathroom,” Angie continued.  She got up.  “But fer now, rest up.  I can stay in the livin’ room with ya if you’d like.  Or if ya don’t want anyone ‘round ‘cause ya don’t feel good, well, I can manage that, too.”  She looked at Ford for an answer.  When he didn’t respond, she prompted him.  “Stanford?”

              “I think I know why I became sick,” Ford said softly.  Angie cocked her head at him.

              “Oh?”

              “You mentioned bringing me to the bathtub tonight.”  Ford met Angie’s eyes.  “I spent the entirety of last night outside of the bathtub.”  Angie’s eyes widened.

              “Oh, shoot!”  She slapped her forehead.  “Ya done got dried out!”

              “It would appear so, yes,” Ford said softly.  Angie sighed.

              “Well, at least yer not sick with somethin’ contagious.”  She shook her head.  “Okay, we’ll have to make sure ya stay damp in the future, I guess.  At least while yer in yer amphibious form.”  Ford nodded.  “My question from ‘fore still stands.  Do ya want me to spend the day in the room with ya or go elsewhere?”

              “Um…”

              It’s been how long since I had company while I was sick?  Ford managed a small smile at Angie.

              “I may not be up for conversation, but merely having your presence in the same room would be quite nice,” he replied.  Angie beamed.

              “I’ve always been a proponent of the idea that ya get better faster when someone’s with ya,” she said cheerfully.  She picked up Ford’s empty glass of water.  “I’ll top this off ‘n come back to look over some of the stuff I wrote last night.  You rest up, okay?”

              “I shall do so gladly.”  Ford downed the rest of the soup and set the empty bowl on the end table.  He then spread out on the couch, laid back, and closed his eyes.  There was a soft breeze as Angie passed by him to set his filled glass of water down, then footsteps as she went to the table in the corner of the room.  He opened one eye.  “I heard some of your conversation with Fiddleford.”

              “Did ya?”

              “Yes.  Apparently, you are prone to pushing yourself when you should not?”

              “Not as much anymore.  Had to stop doin’ that in grad school or I would’ve had a heart attack my first year.”

              “Before then, you engaged in that behavior?”

              “Yes.”

              “Interesting,” Ford murmured.  Angie laughed softly.

              “Are ya tryin’ to make me come off as a hypocrite fer pointin’ out ya shouldn’t do it?”

              “No,” Ford lied.  Angie laughed again.

              “Like I said, I don’t do it no more.  But I’ve still got the stubbornness what drove me to push myself past my limits.  And I don’t got any qualms ‘bout usin’ that stubbornness to fight yours.  So close both yer eyes and take a nap, Stanford!”

              Ford chuckled.  He closed his other eye and rolled over so he was facing the back of the couch.  Sleep came quickly.

-----

              “All right, I’m done!” Angie’s voice said.  Ford looked up from the book on amphibians she had lent him.  They were in Eugene, due to her insistence on purchasing supplies that couldn’t be located in Gravity Falls.  Thankfully, Angie had offered that Ford sit outside while she shopped in the specialty soap store.  She held up the shopping bag.  “I got ya plenty of things.”

              “I really don’t need-” Ford started.

              “Just think of ‘em as an early Christmas gift,” Angie said smoothly.  Ford raised an eyebrow.

              “I’m Jewish.”  Angie winced.

              “Then think of it as an early, uh, an early, uh…”  Angie was fumbling for the right words, speechless in a way that Ford had yet to see her.  Recalling how oblivious Fiddleford had been about Judaism when they first met, Ford took pity on her.

              “Hanukkah, perhaps?” he suggested, closing the book on amphibians.  Angie sighed in relief.

              “Yes.  Think of it as an early Hanukkah gift, then.”  Angie rubbed the back of her neck.  “I’m awful sorry, Stanford.  Fidds must’ve mentioned to me you were Jewish, but I plum forgot!”

              “Whether Fiddleford told you or not, I won’t hold it against you,” Ford said.  He stood and handed Angie’s book back to her.  She slipped it into her large purse.

              “I’m glad to hear that.  I didn’t mean to offend-”

              “I’m not offended,” Ford interjected.  Much like her older brother, Angie was perpetually worried about upsetting or offending her friends.

              “I just-”

              “Please, Angie, no need to drag this out.  That wasn’t the first time someone has assumed I am Christian, and it won’t be the last,” Ford said firmly.  Angie nodded.

              “Well, I hope that ya remain unoffended after our next stop,” she said.  Dread began to build in Ford’s gut.

              “Where are we stopping next?” he asked.  Angie smiled nervously.  Instead of answering, she took a few steps forward and opened the door of the adjacent store.  “A pet store?”  Angie nodded and entered the store.  “Do you plan on purchasing a pet?” Ford asked, following her inside.

              I would have liked some warning, but I don’t see how that would offend me.  Angie led Ford to the back of the store.  They stood in a dimly lit corner, surrounded by occupied terrariums filled with moss and logs.  Perhaps she wants to purchase a snake and is worried how I might react?  Another possibility presented itself.  Ford winced.  Sweet Moses, please no.  Anything but that.

              “No, I ain’t purchasin’ any critters,” Angie said slowly.  “I’m purchasin’ stuff fer critters.  Well.  One critter in particular.”  Angie met Ford’s eyes.  “You.”  His stomach plummeted to his feet, his fear realized.

              “No,” he whispered.  Angie nodded.  “Angie, you can’t-”

              “Trust me,” Angie hissed.  “I know what I’m doin’.”

              “You can’t buy items for me here!”

              “I don’t really have any other choice.  They don’t sell mealworms at the grocery store.”

              “Meal-”  Ford cut himself off and shook his head.  Angie used the pause to continue her argument.

              “Like I said, I know what I’m doin’.  I’ve got a degree in this, Stanford!”  She straightened her back firmly, with a confidence that made her very short height seem taller.  “Entertain yourself while I pick ya up some things.”

              “Ugh.  Fine,” Ford muttered, crossing his arms.  Angie playfully punched his shoulder before walking away.

              I hate this.  I hate this!  But…she truly does know what she’s talking about.  The full moon ended a few days ago, and with Ford fully recovered from being “dried out”, he and Angie had gone over her meticulous notes.  There were many instances in which he’d needed her to explain what she had written.  Herpetology truly is not my area of expertise.  I need to defer to her in matters regarding my condition.  Regardless of my personal feelings about it.  Ford took a deep breath.  Seriously, though, is she really going to try to feed me mealworms?

              “Dislike stranger.”  Ford’s head whipped around.  He was alone.

              I could have sworn…

              “Want food.”  Ford quickly zeroed in on where the voice had come from: a tank containing a bullfrog.  He cautiously walked up to it and crouched down to look at the little inhabitant.  The bullfrog eyed him with disdain.  “Dislike stranger,” it croaked again.

              “You- you can talk?” Ford whispered.

              “Strangers bad.”

              “How did you-” Ford started.  The bullfrog turned away and crawled into the log inside its tank.  “No, come back!  Talk to me!”

              A talking bullfrog!  What a charmingly mundane anomaly.  And one Angie would love.  Perhaps we should return to Gravity Falls with a pet.

              “Don’t bother, brother,” another voice said.  This time, it came from a tank to the left of the bullfrog and a bit higher, roughly at Ford’s eye-height.  The inhabitant of the tank was a black axolotl, eyeing Ford with fascination.  “Our tongue is too different from theirs to allow for much intelligent conversation.  Only the basics.”

              “…Our tongue?” Ford whispered.  The axolotl seemed amused.

              “The Salamander Tongue.”  It swam closer to the glass and looked Ford up and down.  “I’ve never seen a salamander like you before.”

              “That’s because I’m- I’m not a salamander,” Ford said quietly.  The axolotl cocked its head in a gesture that, oddly, reminded Ford of Angie and Fiddleford.  “Or, at least, I’m not usually one.”

              “Hmm.  I thought there seemed something odder about you than your shape,” the axolotl remarked.

              “What do you mean?” Ford asked.  The axolotl shrugged.

              “It’s difficult to put to an actual word.  I just have this feeling that, even if you looked like me, you’d seem different.  You’re a strange one.  Aren’t you?”

              “Many people have described me in that way.”

              “It’s the best way to be,” the axolotl said cheerfully.  The genuine tone made Ford smile.

              “Do you- could you have any idea why I am the way I am?” Ford asked, unable to keep desperation from spilling into his voice.  “I wasn’t always like this.  And like I said, I don’t take a salamander’s form often.  Just a few times each month.”

              “I’m not well-versed on magic, though many of us axolotls are.”  The axolotl stood a bit prouder.  “Our species tends to have innate magical abilities.”

              “Fascinating.”

              “Yes.  But because I’m not particularly skilled at magic, I don’t have any answers for you, brother.”

              “Oh.  I see.”

              “I can tell you something, however,” the axolotl said.  Ford perked up.  “Whether you take the shape of one of us or one of them, you are always one of us.  I can sense it.  Your being is salamander.  Not human.”  Ice spread through Ford’s veins.

              “Mom, look, look!”  A child sprinted into the corner, his beleaguered mother behind him.  The child pressed his face against the glass of a tank containing a tarantula.  “I want it!”  While the weary woman explained to her son that she wouldn’t purchase the tarantula, Ford placed his hand against the glass of the axolotl’s tank.  The axolotl placed one of its own tiny hands on the glass as well.  He smiled weakly at the salamander.

              “Stanford?”  Ford looked over his shoulder.  Angie had returned, carrying bags covered in the store’s logo.  “I’m all done.  We can head home.”

              “Ah.  Yes.”  Ford followed Angie out of the store.  He put his hands in his pants pockets as they walked past the storefronts of the strip mall.  “What did you purchase?”

              “All sorts of goodies.  Mostly worms ‘n crickets.”

              “You do realize that, even in my other form, they will be so small that the entire supply would be one or two meals,” Ford said.

              “I’ve read through that Journal of yours,” Angie said.  She grinned crookedly.  “Those size-changin’ crystals will help the bugs last us a while.”

              “Oh.  That’s quite clever.”

              “Thank you!  I also got ya some supplements.”

              “Supplements?”

              “Some amphibians and reptiles need extra calcium or things like that ‘cause their diet don’t simulate what they’d have in nature well enough.  I think it’d be a good idea to do the same fer you.  Just to see if it helps ya feel better.  If not, we don’t need to keep doin’ it.”

              “That sounds reasonable,” Ford replied.  He frowned.  “How do they taste?”

              “…I have no idea.”

              “You’ve never asked a salamander about that?” he teased.  Angie laughed.

              “I have, but I ain’t ever gotten an answer.  After all, they can’t quite talk.”

              “Maybe you just can’t understand their language,” Ford said.

              “Oh, and you can?”

              “Well…”

              “No!” Angie gasped.  She grabbed his arm.  “Stanford, you can understand salamanders?!”

              “Not so loud,” Ford hissed.  He grinned.  “But, yes.  Though I didn’t discover until today.”  Angie let out a squeal of delight.

              “Tell.  Me.  Everything!”

              “Gladly.”

-----

              When the man and woman got into their car, Melvin quickly backtracked, retreating to the closest pay phone.  The man and woman had been quiet enough to keep most people from overhearing them.  But Melvin wasn’t most people.  When he heard the woman’s initial squeal, he paid attention to the rest of the hushed conversation, following close behind the entire time.

              He was rewarded for his thoroughness.  The man was apparently harboring a magical secret.  A secret that one of Melvin’s clients would be interested in.  Getting his hands on the man would be easy enough.  But he would need someone else to do the transportation.  Luckily, he knew just the money-desperate soul for the job.

              Melvin put coins into the payphone and dialed the number.  After a few rings, the person on the other end picked up.

“Stan Pines.”

#Gravity Falls #Gravity Falls AU #Axolotl Ford AU #Stanford Pines #Angie McGucket #fanfiction #my writing #my stuff #speecher speaks

[saintunhinged]

Midnight

parings: asra alnazar x reader

word count: 0.9k

prompt: asra and you are in an established relationship. after being separated for so long, asra surprises you by showing up right before midnight on new year’s eve.

You occasionally asked Nadia to use the fountain at the palace to keep in contact with Asra. Usually, you would have ventured out with him on expeditions, but the countess of Vesuvia needed your assistance with other things around town. Plus, someone needed to run the shop and make sure the stove salamander didn’t burn the place down.

Nineteen days had passed since you last saw him in person. Sure, you were able to coexist in each other’s dreams, just as he was able to bring you into his oasis. However, nothing beat being with him in the real world. Even if you had no clue when you might see him again, you counted down the minutes until you were to be reunited.

You locked the shop up after attending to your last customer. After a moment spent sweeping the dirt carried in throughout the day, you realigned the elixirs on the shelf to look neat. You spoke to him every day whenever time allowed you to. Last week you were pleased when he started indicating he’d soon be back and in your arms. You kept a single candle lit on the glass countertop in case Asra returned home during the opaque hours of the night — which he still hadn’t yet.

The handcrafted analog clock adorned with Roman numerals hung on the wall behind the counter. It was eleven minutes until the clock struck twelve, the start of a new beginning. You hoped you’d be able to see Asra in your dreams tonight. Therefore, you made a cup of tea mixed with an audacious amount of valerian herbs, before hurriedly heading to your bedroom.

You expected the tea's effect to work fast, but not that fast. The instant you saw the messy bed in front of you, you visualized your sleeping form lying there. Your body fell flat to defy the sudden tiredness washing over you. Your eyes slid shut seconds after you flopped face-first onto the soft mattress.

Everything grew dark. Your eyelids fluttered open as you took in the familiar scenery. A swirling purple, blue and orange sky twinkled with glowing stars above. Luminescent critters flew past your face, while others crawled on the bright green leaves of syagrus trees. Sand coated the ground beneath you, and in the middle was a picturesque pond teeming with fish of various colors.

You mastered the skill of reaching Asra’s oasis.

Parallel to innumerable times before, your magic reached out to find Asra’s.

You patiently waited for the delicate white line bonding your heart to his to appear. You were stunned when Asra showed you it for the first time. The love you shared was unlike any other. A rare connection formed between two magicians created a force to be reckoned with. No matter where you were, you would always find your way back to each other.

A small smile touched your lips, but just as quickly, you realized the line was taking a little longer than normal to form. Confusion struck your face as you glanced down. You were shocked to find a bright glow emitting from your chest where your heart was.

You knew Asra was there, and extremely close. With Asra nowhere in sight, there was only one place he could be. Your excitement overpowered your senses and you concentrated on your breathing.

As the world beyond you shifted into nothing, you felt it before you saw it. A familiar weight made the bed dip next to you, and a warm hand found its place on your face, softly caressing your cheeks. Your eyes opened to the welcoming sight of Asra. You wasted no time hurling yourself at him without hesitation. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders and you buried your face in the crook of his neck.

The momentum nearly knocked him back, but he regained his balance to keep you both from falling off the bed. You didn’t need him to tell you he missed you, you felt it. “I didn’t mean to wake you.” His arms came around your waist to embrace you in a tight, comforting hug.

“Friend!” Faust’s tiny voice echoed in your head. Seconds later she emerged from Asra’s shirt to drape herself around you and him. “Squeeze!” She was including herself in the hug, and you found it adorable.

She continued to slither around your shoulders. In this case, you weren’t able to move back too much without bringing discomfort to the familiar. Laughing at the situation, you said, "Asra, I think we're stuck.” You pointed out the obvious, that neither of you could pull away.

He didn’t appear to care, if anything, you felt the warmth of his breath tickle your skin when he released a deep sigh and pulled you impossibly closer to him. “Hmm? It’s not so bad.” He meekly commented, and Faust returned to her place in Asra’s shirt. This gave you the opportunity to get a thorough look at his attractive features.

His eyes glimmered with barely contained joy. It perfectly matched the carefree curl of his mouth. You watched his lips part to form words, but the booming sound of muffled fireworks interrupted him. From many experiences before, you recognized this as the start of a new year.

Sharing the same thought, your lips met in a longing kiss of devotion.

Maybe it was cliché— the whole perfect moment thing, but you thought nothing was better than time being on your side at a time like this. “Happy New Year, love.” He softly let out.

There was an uncontrollable smile growing on your face, and you earnestly replied, “Happy New Year, Asra.” You were excited about the future of your lives. You couldn’t wait to see what new adventures were in store for the both of you.

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