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 Posted: Tue Apr 28, 2015 9:31 pm
 the application
That first image of the Lab, the one concrete piece of evidence he could point to later as the thing that had started it all, arrived in a birthday card that was half a year early. On the outside was yet another unremarkable joke about his age, but inside was something that gave Fisher pause, not because he was searching for Shawn's approval with regard to the whole kid thing, but because the option his father had presented was actually interesting for once. [ lab image created by kyoupi ]
On the back of the photo Shawn had written the URL of a website that provided just enough information to pique Fisher's interest, and a physical address he found himself strolling past the next time he was in the neighborhood. The site had mentioned an application, and on half a whim Fisher stepped inside and asked for one. Living in a largely human part of town, he had never seriously considered volunteering to care for one of the creatures he'd heard stories about, the ones that spawned from necklaces and fairy tales and the shiny hopes in people's hearts. But he had been a Boy Scout, he had a steady job, he wasn't crazy, and he was curious. Surely those qualifications made him as good a candidate as anyone else in this town.
Fisher filled out the forms with a careful calm that belied his anxious interest. He left the lab that day brimming with conflicting thoughts on his own chances at fatherhood, feeling both confident and paranoid in equal, alternating measure. Could he teach a magical construct how to be a good person or would he raise a legless monstrosity hellbent on destroying the world?
He pondered life as a potential Raevan guardian all the way across town, wandering into a Food Mart when he realized there was nothing edible in his apartment beyond condiments and a case of Diet Coke. Somewhere between the produce section and the frozen aisle, what he had done faded in comparison to choosing a starch to go with his steak.
It wasn't that he forgot how he had spent the day by any means, he simply realized that becoming a parent likely took a lot more work than he had put in. At least the effort would get his father off of his back for a while. And if they chose him... well... he would be very surprised.
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Posted: Mon Jun 22, 2015 1:02 pm
the briefcase Fisher was very surprised.
His doorbell rang several weeks later at eight on a Sunday morning, and by the time he managed to roll out of bed, force his hair into an acceptable configuration, and shuffle to the door, the person who had done so was long gone. There was a box in the hall that he could only assume they had left behind, a large one with [LAB 305] stamped neatly above a frustratingly familiar address. Despite the sense of déjà vu he felt when he saw the logo and the fact that the package had obviously been dropped off for him—it had his name on it, for Pete's sake—Fisher left it in the hall while he went to grab his phone and Google this enigmatic Lab.
Three minutes later, the box was safely inside, perched on the coffee table, and Fisher was very out of breath.
"I can't believe this," he whispered to no one. His first two fingers rubbed at the address, then his thumb. He looked back at his phone. "I can't... s**t." He hadn't expected a response at all, let alone a giant, mysterious, unannounced parcel. For a moment he imagined the Raevan scrunched up inside like a sad, forgotten contortionist. He lunged for the box, scrabbling at its neat rows of staples until he realized he was probably wildly overreacting. Any place of business that had operated without public outcry for nearly a decade wouldn't still be around if they shipped creatures with human-level intelligence around in crates.
Fisher rested his phone next to the box. He couldn't handle this right now.
He had to handle it right now.
He retreated to the kitchen, emerging a moment later with a proper tool, or at least a tool more appropriate than his fingers would have been. He carefully jimmied each staple out one at a time with a butter knife, delaying the inevitable for as long as he could. To his credit, once the staples were all in a silver line next to his phone, Fisher didn't hesitate to peek inside the box. Nestled between a number of thick hunks of dark foam was a metal briefcase, the kind that held government secrets and weird bombs activated by combining two different flavors of goo.
A second round of shuffling and stalling promptly began, and when it was over, the outer crate had been moved to the floor and the briefcase sat alone on the table. Fisher took a seat on the couch in front of it, breathed deeply, and snapped it open.
The bottle and jar inside wouldn't have seemed out of place in a fancy chef's kitchen, oddly enough, but suspecting their more scientific purpose made him hesitant to touch them. Thankfully, there was a stack of papers bound to the inside of the briefcase's lid, and on the top of that stack was a note. Handwritten. Very nice.Quote: Greetings, Fisher!
Let me be the first to congratulate you on becoming a Guardian! My name is Zeke, and I am one of the staff members here at Lab 305. Out of numerous applications to our program, we felt that you were best fitted to become the newest addition to our family! So welcome and congratulations!
In this briefcase you will find your Soul Glass, Fel Essence, and a couple of documents - one of which needs your signature and must be returned to the Lab with your Glass and Essence upon your capture of a soul. The other is a list of contact information of every Guardian and Raevan pairing in the Lab. I've taken the liberty of highlighting the names of staff for you, but you will find us at the top of the first sheet!
I know this must be rather surprising for you, so before I go any further let me just state that if you have any questions at any time, please feel free to call, text, or email me and I will be more than happy to provide answers or guidance in general. That being said, let's get on with the show!
As I wrote above, you will find your Soul Glass and Fel Essence inside the briefcase. You are the Guardian to the Cat-Repelling Catnip Essence, which has already been written down on the legal documents you will have to date and sign. Your Soul Glass is that big glass and metal contraption to the left of your Essence Jar, and will be the thing you need to use in order to help us make your future Raevan. Please take note of the cloth between the metal and glass parts as it is important. Souls have colors and the cloth acts as a limiter and something of a fail-safe so that the bottle will not suck up just anything around it. As yours is brown and white/cream, it will only activate around things (be they animal, plant, mineral, metal, etc) that fit one or both of those colors.
When you capture a soul, the glass bulb will appear to have a smoke-like gas inside of it. When this happens simply return the filled Glass, the Essence, your signed documents, and the case to the Lab. There is a business card tucked in alongside this note for our carrier service. Contact them when you are ready to return your items and they will pick them up from your home. As soon as we get them back we will begin the process of making them into your Raevan!
Whew! I hope I covered everything well enough in this note as far as what you need to do now that you are a Guardian! If not, and as before, please do not hesitate to get in contact with me. My phone is always on and I'm always happy to talk with members of the Lab family!
Hope to hear from you soon and congratulations again!
Sincerely,
Zeke Farris
Leaning forward, Fisher gingerly rubbed the cloth at the top of the bottle between his thumb and first finger. Something brown and white. Okay. He could do that.
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Posted: Tue Jul 14, 2015 11:55 am
a real welcome A week passed. Bottle and jar remained locked away. Every time Fisher passed the coffee table and saw the mysterious briefcase resting there, his resulting sigh grew in dramatic intensity. He considered returning the case, washing his hands of responsibility, but the thought made him tense like he had misjudged the number of stairs before a landing and stepped off into thin air. This was not the sort of test Fisher wanted to fail. At the very least he owed the creature a chance at a life with him, considering that some scientist had thought his influence the best thing for it. Even after he was sure he wasn't taking it back, he still couldn't bring himself to touch it for another week after that. When his sighs grew forceful enough to leave him lightheaded, he reluctantly concluded that something needed to be done.
At first he made a show of cleaning up everything around the table, dusting, polishing, and tidying like his grandmother used to. She probably still did, he just didn't have any excuse to watch her do it anymore. The realization prompted a phone call to Grandma Melanie and another lost afternoon.
The following morning, Fisher awoke with an angry knot in his gut. He clenched his fists, but only for a moment. "Today's the day," he told thin air. The walls knew his plans. He couldn't back out now.
To his credit, he didn't.
Following a mug of tea and four slices of buttered toast, Fisher took a seat in front of the briefcase and flipped it open with only the slightest stutter of his fingers. He lifted the jar of bizarro-world catnip out first, turning it over in his hands and taking a worn, Windex-spritzed rag to its surface. Once it was pristine, he propped it upright in its foam divot, hurrying to retrieve the soul bottle before he could change his mind. It was warm, which worried him, but when five minutes of skin-to-glass contact had passed and he was no closer to being consumed by a soul-hungry future torso baby Fisher relaxed, taking up the rag again and resting the bottle in his lap.
"It's nice to meet you properly, kid," he said under his breath, wiping the soul bottle down until it gleamed as brightly as the jar he placed it beside. He dinged a fingernail against the glass, watching both containers for signs of supernatural life. "I'm going to assume you don't want me in there, which is... great. Really. So... I'll find something you do want. It can't be something stupid though, okay? Not that you know what stupid is." Fisher sighed softly through his nose. "Trust me. I've got you."
Until then, the Raevan needed a place to stay that wasn't the middle of his coffee table. It had to be clean, and it would be nice if it was a spot he passed all the time so the thing wouldn't get bored. He stood. He paced his apartment, scoping out every flat surface, only stopping when he spotted his gently used ottoman standing vigilant under a small heap of Rock Band peripherals.
"Got it." Fisher shifted his plastic guitars and color-coded keyboard onto the floor, sliding the ottoman closer to the briefcase. "I'll set you up here. That way you're all cushy and can look out the window when I'm not home and be here in the room when I am." He hesitated, lips parted as he thought. "Actually... no window. You could just..." He slurped. "...suck up anything that passes by. I'll get you some nice things to look at instead. Nothing brown and white."
For now, Fish retreated to his room, pulling a favorite old suit jacket out of his closet. It was blue, soft, and large enough to both cocoon the essence's jar and shield the soul bottle from... everything. It would have to do for now.
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Posted: Tue Jul 14, 2015 1:47 pm
 the summer tea party xxx
Fisher attends a get-together at the lab and catches his first glimpse
of actual Raevans. It's equal parts intriguing and nervewracking.
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Posted: Fri Apr 29, 2016 9:15 am
twenty-nine Every year Fisher made an effort to avoid working on his birthday. As an employee of Luka's Pizzeria, it had been easy enough to call in wheezing and sniffling to get out of a day's work, and during his stint as a paralegal, he'd just put in for the day off in advance. Unfortunately, this time of year saw the Crystal Forest's second biggest attendance spike next to Christmas, and any plans to spend the day with family rarely panned out. On top of that, with his prospective new charge lounging in a pair of jars at home, he had been thinking it might be time to try for a promotion. There would be no advancement for junior managers with birthday absences.
What was perhaps the most irritating part of being required to come in to work was that no one really needed him here. His presence was a simple morale booster, another body in case of emergency. Mostly useless.
He was on his third circuit around the dancing fountain when he saw a young woman crying, and though he wasn't one to find joy in other people's misery, her puffy eyes and damp cheeks did spark more interest than pity. She didn't register his approach, all of her attention on the synchronized spouts of water leaping in time with their epic score.
"Is there anything I can do to make your day more magical?" he asked, voice low to mask a little of the ridiculousness of the question. Luckily, the woman chuckled, glancing at his name tag before looking back at the fountain.
"Not unless you can change the past." Her small smile remained even though her cheeks were still wet.
"Lion King, right? I'm not supposed to say this since they're the competition, but I love that movie."
"Who doesn't?"
"No one I'd want to associate with." Fish rested both palms on the top of the railing that separated them from the rushing water, finding the melody in his head. This was one of the best routines the fountain had to offer, but in the months since they'd put it into rotation, the tune had melted into background noise for him. He focused, picking out the upcoming notes with ease and humming along. "This is the best part here in a few seconds, watch."
The jumping water chased itself around the edge and into a tight spiral, matching a sudden crescendo in the musical accompaniment. Fat drops hopped merrily, lights from beneath tinting them green, gold, pink, as a blue mist crawled across the fountain's surface, turning the entire spectacle into an inverted magical thunderstorm. A loud pop interrupted the display, launching a spout three stories into the air that came splashing back down all too quickly, spritzing the gathered audience with a fine layer of chlorinated dew. There were whoops and claps, but the woman beside him remained silent. The fountain water had diluted her tears, and anyone looking at her now wouldn't have guessed she'd been crying at all.
"Feeling any better?" He doubted she did on any level that mattered, but as theoretically sympathetic as he might have been to her mysterious plight, he was only really responsible for the open weeping part. There was no crying at the Crystal Forest. It was in the manual. Rule 24 or something like that.
"Better enough. Maybe I'll get some popcorn."
"Ride some rides? They're fun."
Her face went pale, the faint ruddiness that had remained draining away. "I... shouldn't," she whispered, her reply barely audible above the cascade of the fountain. "I'm pregnant. Too much jittering would be bad for the baby." Something in the way she said it left Fisher fairly certain he was the first person she'd told. s**t. He had no idea what to say. 'Congratulations' was off the table, and 'I'm sorry' was arguably worse, no matter how many tears he'd seen her shed. But he had to say something, before all the awkwardness in their immediate vicinity went nuclear and fried them to ash.
"I'll do anything in my power to help," he said, wincing a bit at his HR-trained chivalry. Luckily, she caught a glimpse of his discomfort, snorting and shaking her head.
"I won't hold you to that, but thank you anyway." She looked down at his name tag again, smirking as she tapped it with a finger. "Fisher."
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Posted: Fri Apr 29, 2016 9:18 am
family obligationsxxx
Raz and Fisher have a brief chat about Raevans, parents, and coffee.
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Posted: Fri Apr 29, 2016 9:21 am
assistant In the two and a half weeks that followed their unconventional introduction, Fisher and the sobbing woman became nearly inseparable, at least during the hours when he was at work. Four days after they had met, he learned her name—Ursula—when she showed up with a tag of her own, not the official white variety that would have indicated she'd been hired as an employee, but the deep blue souvenir version visitors could purchase at the gift shop. Many of her fellow guests couldn't tell the difference, and as a result she found herself in what might have been an awkward position for some, but one that didn't seem to bother her at all. Upon being cornered by kindly old people and frazzled families, she bluffed her way through answering their questions, giving them directions to rides and counter service food locations that she had never seen let alone patronized. Fisher felt guilty at first, but correcting her in the middle of everything would have caused more confusion than it remedied. Let them wander around lost for a while. They'd find what they were looking for eventually. He was very careful not to let her get too carried away, especially when dealing with the infirm or injured. Upper management was still watching and he still wanted that promotion.
It was a Friday, the last one before the Gambino kids went back to school and all of the park's part time student workers left. She was helping a young couple and their toddler son find Delfia's Undersea Adventure, a calmly rotating ride for the less adventurous. The boy was dwarfed by his electric blue wheelchair, all of his attention on Ursula's grand gestures and fanciful, fictional accent as she directed them toward Oceania, the wing of the Crystal Forest that catered to lovers of mermaids and manatees.
When the family had moved on, Fisher came up beside her, watching them go. "That was good," he said. "Not a single wrong turn." Her guidance always seemed to include a handful of dead ends and landmarks that didn't exist, but this set of directions had been pristine.
"Of course," she answered, still staring unblinkingly after their guests. "I love Delfia. Besides, I couldn't steer them wrong. It didn't seem very nice."
He had suspected she sometimes misdirected people on purpose, but this was the first time she had admitted as much.
"And that boy reminded me of mine."
They hadn't spoken of her pregnancy since the day they had met. Although he knew very little about fetal development, Fisher was fairly certain you couldn't tell a baby's sex this early. Maybe she had obtained some sort of special knowledge from the child's father. Maybe she wasn't human. Maybe she was just strange. Her reaction to the situation had always seemed off to him, but it wasn't his place to pry. Until she volunteered the information, he had no right to—
"You probably have questions," Ursula blurted, interrupting his thoughts. She turned, looking at him again now that the family had moved out of sight. "And even if you don't, I owe you an explanation."
Despite his curiosity, she really didn't. Even so, he wasn't about to discourage her, especially if it meant he might piece together enough information to help in some way. Fish inclined his head slightly, taking a few steps deeper into Aero and ducking under the shade of the monorail tracks where they might go unseen.
"If you want to give me one, I'm listening. I consider myself your friend, Urs, but we've known each other for, what, two weeks? You really don't have to explain yourself to me."
"I do and I will. I just can't." She looked up, as if a god of some sort was poised to drop kick her. "Not here."
"Okay. Not here. Wh—"
"The Gambino Bar. Tomorrow."
Fisher nodded, eyes on the passing guests. He had understandable reservations with regard to hanging out with a pregnant woman at a bar, reservations that Ursula did not appear to share. He chose to keep his mouth shut.
"Seven o'clock okay?"
She nodded, leaned in to peck him on the cheek, and headed out toward the park's main hub without another word. She didn't look back.
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Posted: Fri Apr 29, 2016 9:25 am
card capersxxx
Having been stood up by a friend, Fisher gets in over his head when
he agrees to play cards with Xiu.
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Posted: Fri Apr 29, 2016 9:33 am
wikipedia "Deer," Fisher muttered, his body hunched over his laptop with what had started as interest but was now the weight of numb boredom. He penned DEER on a notepad to his right, contemplating the word before adding a bold pair of lines beneath it. He'd definitely seen fawns that were brown with white spots in pictures, and the idea of an nega-catnip/deer hybrid was far more palatable than anything else he'd come up with so far.
A cow had been his first thought, but the main issue there was his violent unfamiliarity with everything countrified. Livestock baffled him and he didn't trust himself to be properly responsible for a farm animal. Giraffes posed a similar problem, only it was the African savanna rather than the country that left him reluctant to commit on that front. Comparing cows and giraffes to the simplicity and adaptability of a deer made those former possibilities seem absurd. He crossed them off of his list, the lines equally as final as the first pair.
Fisher yawned, the expression ending in a sigh. This soul might have been slightly more comfortable than the others, but it wasn't really any more appropriate. Baby deer and catnip simply didn't match. There had been nothing in the Lab's paperwork that insisted the soul he chose fit his assigned essence in any way, but Fisher was an orderly sort. a**l, even. He needed them to go together, and if it took him another million years to figure out how to get them to, well, he would probably have his bottles taken from him long before then. Fisher sighed again. He could only hope that Zeke or whoever would see fit to warn him before they were confiscated so that he might say a proper goodbye.
Through all of this frustrated contemplation, he couldn't help thinking that his search would be loads more productive if Ursula had been around. With the more pressing issue of her impending child looming over their heads, his bottles and briefcase had seemed unimportant, and thus he hadn't told her. He regretted keeping quiet, but there was nothing he could do about it now. His news might have been a balm for her potentially guilty conscience once she had spilled her own mysterious secrets. Instead, she had ditched him at a bar, leaving him to be unexpectedly duped by a raevan. Fisher smirked. At least meeting Xiu had been fun. In addition to a little good-natured humiliation, the Sigel had given Fish a much needed dose of perspective. As it turned out, raevans weren't particularly scary up close, and no more fragile or likely to spontaneously drop dead than any other Gambino citizen. They seemed to be oddly impressionable creatures, but he had kind of guessed they would be going in. It was why he had applied for the honor of raising one in the first place, to be granted a child that was not a child, a being that soothed his father's desire to extend their family tree while also serving as a suitable companion for Fisher himself. If only he could make up his damn mind as to what that companion should be.
He squeezed his eyes shut, rubbing at them in the hopes it would dull his burgeoning headache. His lunch hour was meant to be over four minutes from now, but Fish chose to temporarily ignore that fact, typing one more search into Wikipedia. It occurred to him that all he knew of nepeta cataria was that cats enjoyed it, and that all he knew of his raevan's essence was the opposite, despite the initial hints that there was more to it. Fisher sat up a bit straighter as the page crept onto his screen and he read, letting out a half-satisfied, half-pained grunt as his back popped in the interim.
Nepeta cataria is cultivated as an ornamental
plant for use in gardens. It is also grown for its
attractant qualities to house cats and butterflies.
The plant is drought-tolerant and deer-resistant.
Oil isolated from catnip by steam distillation is
a repellent against insects, in particular aphids,
squash bugs, mosquitoes, flies, cockroaches,
and termites.
He made a new list, inverting all the properties of traditional catnip and hoping this new definition held an ounce of truth for his cat-repellent variety.
repels: cats and butterflies
attracts: aphids, squash bugs,
mosquitoes, flies, cockroaches,
and termites
"Gross." Well, that certainly explained the Lab's comments about the specimen being covered in flies when they'd found it. Flies. Hm. He was beginning to suspect that he hadn't been thinking slimy enough. Fisher's phone blared an alarm indicating lunch was over and he tapped it as he rose. With his lower half already shuffling toward the door he leaned over his desk and scribbled one last note to contemplate later.A FROG?
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Posted: Fri Apr 29, 2016 9:34 am
confessions The note had been slipped underneath his door at some point between him tipping the pizza guy last night and five minutes ago when he'd rounded the corner into the front hall, reluctantly ready to face the day. Had he been able to narrow the time frame further it would have been ideal, but he knew he hadn't bothered to check the door since he had eaten and he'd barely paid attention even then. Still, he was pretty sure he would have noticed the ragged-edged sheet of paper had it been there at the time. Either way, it was too late now. He had no chance of catching the one who had left it, whether she'd done so ten minutes or ten hours ago. It was no use running after her anyway, not if what she had written was true.
Fisher,
I'm sorry I couldn't stay. I will explain
everything if you come to the Perkins
on Skyline Drive after your shift. I
promise I'll be there this time.
- Ursula
Of course, seeing her at all hinged on whether or not he showed up. He would have happily met her anywhere she'd wanted him a month ago, but he wasn't sure he had it in him now. In the weeks following her disappearance, Fish had forced his worries deep, determined to keep them from affecting him. Though his father would forever come first, he had enjoyed making a new friend too, one who shared his sense of humor and interests, someone he had met on his own and hadn't been forced to know first through school or work. Well, they had met at work, but she wasn't a co-worker. She could have left at any time. He supposed she had.
It bothered him more than it should have that she had stood him up. After all, he barely knew her, and much to his father's absent chagrin, he was pretty sure his feelings ran toward the purely platonic at the moment. It sounded silly even in his head, but from the moment he had approached her by the fountain, he had felt a part of something more. Having Ursula by his side had made the world interesting, and in her absence Fisher had been reminded that while his life seemed peppered in whimsy care of the Crystal Forest and his new affiliation with the Lab, it was actually distressingly average.
All day he had debated going straight home, leaving her to wonder if he was coming. See how she liked it. But in the end he found himself standing outside the strip mall family restaurant a little after eight o'clock, lips pursed in an unconscious scowl. As he entered, the hostess grinned like she was hiding something.
"Ursula's table, right?" she said by way of greeting. When a flicker of confusion lit his eyes, the woman added, "She did a perfect impression of your scowl." For a moment he was overjoyed. She'd shown up! He was forgiven! Life was fun again! But just as quickly he recalled that none of this was his fault. She had abandoned him. His frown remained.
"Try not to be mad for long," the hostess said, perkiness dying down to something more sympathetic. "She seems like a good kid."
After his reluctant nod of agreement, the woman led him to a table in the back, one built for at least four, but only seating one at the moment. Or two, technically. Ursula looked up from her menu as they approached, a nervous smile quirking her lips. Before he could offer a polite greeting she was on her feet, the napkin she'd placed in her lap fluttering to the carpet as she rounded the table, squeezing him tightly enough to bruise.
"I'm so sorry, Fish. I'm just the biggest idiot."
Fisher had always been a soft touch, his good humor the main reason why he was able to keep gleeful and chipper every day at the Forest. Even now when he tried to hold onto his hurt and irritation, forgiveness was near instantaneous.
"No, you're really not. I promise," he said, returning her hug once she'd loosened her grip. "I was worried more than anything." He pat her back, giving the greeter a small smile as she retreated to her duties in the front. "Come on. Let's talk."
Ursula nodded, taking her seat. Fish pulled out a chair for himself, getting slowly settled. Whatever her news turned out to be, he was also determined to spill the beans about his Raevan tonight. He wanted to be as comfortable as possible. Maybe then he wouldn't chicken out.
"Did you order?" He'd never been one to lose his appetite over nerves. She shook her head and Fisher smirked, making a grab for the menu. "Order first, news later."
Ten minutes passed, during which they chose their meals (Granny's Omelet Wrap for him, chicken strips for her) and their waiter provided a basket of sliced bread and water. There was also small talk, though it was so inconsequential that he couldn't recall what had been said once it was done. Fish was pleased by the effortless way they had reconnected, but he wasn't blind to the unspoken tension that plagued their calm. He drew in a breath, intent on breaking it abruptly, like ripping off a band-aid. Ursula got there first.
"So. My baby," she began, carefully placing her bread and knife aside as if she couldn't bear their distraction. Fisher sat straighter, infected by her nerves. He was determined to be supportive and understanding, no matter what she said. If he went and ******** this up, he doubted she'd return a second time.
"His father is... not human."
All right. He shifted in his seat, waiting for her to drop the other shoe. Half human babies weren't all that uncommon anymore, and he was certain there was more to it. Lots of creatures lived in the city these days, and many more had never left the forest, some of whom got a little overzealous when it came to seducing humans. It would explain the crying when they'd met, if nothing else. Fisher drew in a breath, comforting words poised on his tongue, but she continued before he could speak.
"He's not a rogue faun or a vampire or anything. He's a fae. And from what I can tell, he's kind of high up there? As fae go?" She looked down, the butter knife she had discarded now the ideal item to fiddle with. "Royalty? I guess? I don't know why he picked me, but..." Ursula shook her head faintly, setting the knife down again. "That isn't important. I mean... it's all that's important, but it isn't important to talk about like that. Here." Her cheeks went slightly ruddy. "The reason why I left was because someone threatened me. There are other fae who don't want the baby to be born and they're willing to hurt the people I care about until I get rid of him. And the only people I really care about are my mom and you."
Following Fish's sudden grin, Urs slapped her hand lightly against the table and laughed. "What? It's not like I didn't spend months following you around a theme park. It's not like I'm telling you the biggest secret of my life. And me telling you I care makes you smile. Stupid."
He raised his hands in supplicated defeat. "I knew it all along, Fair Queen of the Fairies."
She tossed a piece of bread at his head. "I should just let them take you."
"Maybe so."
"That's very brave." She tried to hold her smile but it faltered anyway. "They really scared me, Fish."
He cleared his throat. "Yeah, I'm sorry. That got a little condescending."
"It's all right." She touched his hand. "Anyway. Yestr told me there was a simple way to keep the two of you safe, so..." Her fingers wrapped around his, turning his hand upright. She motioned for him to hold out the other as well.
"Okay." Before he could wonder what she was doing, Ursula placed a flat blue stone onto his palm. A flash of pale energy forked out of it and through him, forcing his teeth to grind and his hair to stand on end. Though the assault ended quickly, Fisher sat in stunned silence for several minutes afterward, unable to speak as his breath hitched and muscles spasmed. When sense returned, he realized the stone was gone, though whether that was because it had disappeared or Ursula had simply put it away he wasn't certain.
"H... holy s**t," he said, flexing his fingers. "Warn me n... next time, maybe?"
"Hey? Fish? I'm gonna electrocute you, all right? Hold still."
"Fine. Point taken." He paused to take a deep, deliberate breath, trying to calm the fitful starts of his lungs. "What did that do?"
"It mostly allowed your bodyguard to be able to find you no matter where you are."
"Bodyguard?"
"But it also gave you the ability to do that same shocky thing to five other people. Or I guess you could do it to the same person five times, if you wanted. Five times, however you like, then I have to shock you again to recharge."
"But... bodyguard?"
"Yes, bodyguard. You have a fae bodyguard now. He's not going to protect you from walking in front of a car or anything, but he should be able to help. Sometimes."
The arrival of their food prevented him from commenting further, though he remained quiet even after the waiter was gone. Fish was about five bites into his breakfast wrap before he spoke again. He thought his deliberate veneer of calm was pretty damn flawless, even if he was still quaking inside.
"I just want to say... I mean... I was never mad at you. More sad that you didn't think you could confide in me. But I get it now, Urs. Completely. If not the what exactly, then the why. And I'm sorry for every bad thing I thought about you while you weren't around."
She watched him, smiling around her bite of chicken, and when he went quiet she straightened, planting her fist and her fork handle-first as if she was demanding dessert. "Like what?"
"I'm not getting into it."
She snorted. "Fine, then. Subject change!" Ursula hesitated, fork drooping. "Do you think Tom's mad? Can I come back to work?"
"Only you would worry about keeping a job you never had," Fisher said with a grin. "It's fine, I promise. He was going to offer you a real position before you left—spoiler alert—so I'm sure that's still on the table. Just don't disappear again."
"Really?" She sat up straight. "Really?"
"Really really. Don't get too excited. You'd just be my assistant."
"Being your assistant would be awesome. Stop trying to make it sound like less than the best news I've heard all day, party pooper." She did seem happy, smiling as she dug back into her food. He hoped she stayed that way, even after he'd told her about the Lab. She had no reason not to. He had to keep reminding himself of that.
"Well," he said, slicing off a bit of egg with his fork. "I've got more news that I hope is just as good."
"What is it?"
He inhaled slowly and deeply, steadying his hands and his heart. "About six months ago, I applied to be the guardian of a Raevan." He expected her to ask him what he was talking about or assume a Raevan was some sort of pet, but Ursula's eyes lit with curiosity and recognition instead. She scooted forward, perching on the edge of her seat.
"Did they accept you?"
"You know about the Lab?"
"Yeah? I mean someone like my mom isn't going to keep up with what they do or anything, but in some circles, Dr. Kyou's work is kind of a big deal."
Some circles. Circles full of people who would get it on with fae kings and hand out lightning magic at Perkins. Not that he was judging or anything, he just hadn't thought he'd known anyone who fit that description until twenty minutes ago. He thought he was taking it all pretty well, to be honest.
"So. Did you get picked? I'm gonna assume you wouldn't be so nervous if you hadn't gotten picked."
"Mmhm. You're the first person who knows. Who doesn't work at the Lab, I mean."
"I'm honored. What's your, um, combination?"
"My essence is cat-repellent catnip."
"And...?"
"I don't know."
"You were approved six months ago and you don't know your soul?"
"Yeah, so? Should I?" he snapped. Fish knew the answer was yes. He knew he sounded like a five-year-old, but his lack of progress was a bit of a sore spot. He didn't want to do things wrong, but whenever he thought about the colorful little prison he'd created for his essence, pinches of guilt tickled his gut. He set down his fork. "Sorry. No, I don't. I'm stalling because don't know what to choose."
"I hear that the souls usually show up when you're not expecting them."
"I'm not sure I could let it just... pick. I want it to be as good as I can make it, you know?"
Ursula looked like she wanted to object, but instead she went all thoughtful and silent. Eventually she nodded. "I guess I can understand that." Of course she could. She'd just electrocuted him against his will to make sure things were perfect for her baby. She squeezed his forearm for barely a second, then went back to her chicken. "I won't say anything else."
"That's not what I want at all. Don't clam up because I'm being an a*****e. Especially when you know so much more about this than I do."
She perked up again, as he'd hoped she would. "All right. What do you need?"
He chuckled. "Everything you've got. Just lay it on me."
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Posted: Tue Jul 12, 2016 8:26 pm
shawn Fisher hadn't seen his father in person for six months. That might have been a normal stretch of time for any other self-respecting adult, but prior to his decision to apply for Raevan guardianship, Fish and Shawn had spoken once a day and arranged to meet up at least once a week. Their emailing had continued unabated throughout this silent spell, which was pretty much the only reason Fish hadn't thought to panic. His own life had been rather busy lately. Presumably his father had been equally preoccupied.
These rational thoughts should have eased his guilt, but now as he stood on Shawn's doorstep waiting for a response to his knock, Fisher felt it even so. He should have tried harder to keep in touch, even with all that had been going on. The door rattled as its knob was turned, and when it opened, a smiling, middle-aged woman stood on the other side. Fisher blinked. He definitely should have stopped by sooner.
"Hello," the woman said. "Can I help you?"
"I'm looking for Shawn? Is he—"
Recognition dawned in her eyes, a wide smile overtaking her features as she reached for his shoulder and clasped it warmly. "Yes! You must be Fisher. You really are so alike! I never would have believed how much if you weren't standing right in front of me... oh... Shawn! Fisher's here!" She urged him inside, herding him easily even though she barely pulled with any force. By the time they got down the hall to the living room, his father was waiting, Shawn's own smile sheepish and a little sickly. When the woman took her guiding hand from Fisher's shoulder and transferred it to his father's forearm, comforting and familiar, he finally understood what Shawn had been doing with himself all this time.
"Fish, this is Lina. We've been, uh, dating for a few months now." While it was clear that Shawn was at least minorly mortified over this surprise encounter, Fisher could have told him he didn't need to be. Maybe he would have reacted poorly to walking in on his father's surprise girlfriend had he been younger, but all he really cared about now was that his father was happy. He had never even technically met his mother, and she had died long ago. It was honestly about time Shawn moved on. The expression on his father's face certainly helped soften the blow as well.
"Dad. No heart attacks," he quipped, unable to hide a smirk. "Lina, it's a pleasure to meet you." He held out his hand and the pair shared a knowing smile as they shook.
A consensus had been reached. Shawn Gridell was a total derp, but they both loved him even so.
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Posted: Tue Jul 12, 2016 8:27 pm
halloween October had proven to be unseasonably warm this year, at least until today. There was a bite to the air that rendered Ursula's Tinkerbell costume mostly impractical, and Fish was fairly sure he'd never hear the end of it. At the moment, her teeth were chattering.
"You can wear my coat if you'd like," he said for what had to be the twentieth time. It was proving difficult to come up with so many different ways of wording the same suggestion, though he was starting to embrace the challenge. "It's bad for the baby to be so cold."
It was a stretch, but declaring that things were bad for the baby generally dissuaded her from doing them, or at least led her to consider an alternative. In this particular instance, he was pretty positive the baby didn't give a crap, considering it was camped out in the body of a ninety-eight degree woman. The look Ursula gave him implied that she held a similar opinion.
"He'll be fine," she said between clicks of her teeth. "Stop stalling and let's get inside."
It had seemed like a good idea at the time, accepting Lina's invitation to come over on Halloween, but now that he was standing in front of his father's building in his storebought, slightly oversized Indiana Jones costume, this all felt like a terrible idea. It wasn't that he didn't want to spend time with his dad again or get to know Lina, he just dreaded the inevitable knowing glances they would share around Ursula, and outright feared what would happen if they found out she was pregnant. If that got out, it would take until the baby was born glowing and flying around for them to be convinced it wasn't his.
He had hoped to distract them from any ill-conceived notions about his future by bringing the essence. It was dressed as the Holy Grail.
Still shivering, Ursula elbowed him in the side then stalked off in the direction of the front door at a near jog. He could have let her go, but considering she didn't know which apartment to try, that meant she would try them all. Intervention was necessary.
Fisher corralled her toward 2F and let her knock when she got there. He straightened up and tried to position himself in peephole range after that, and when the door cracked open and the first thing he saw was Lina's smiling face, he knew he'd done a decent job.
"Come in, come in!"
"Lina, this is Ursula. A friend from work."
Fisher could almost feel Ursula's mental objection to the simplicity of her introduction, but all he saw was her blinding smile as she held out a hand for Lina to shake.
"Glad to meet you!" she replied, cheerier now that she was warming up.
"You too, dear. Your costume is lovely."
"Tinkerbell."
"Tinkerbell. And Indiana Jones. I'm not that old, Fisher." Much as she had when they'd first met, Lina herded them out of the hall with the skill of a long-suffering mother, which he knew she had never been. He found himself in front of his father's familiar couch with the urge to take a seat, so he did. Lina squeezed his shoulder and headed off to the kitchen. As soon as she was out of sight, Urs leaned in and whispered,
"This is nice. She's nice. But 'a friend from work'? I'm Ursula Rooney, mother of Moeth, consort of Yestr, personal assistant to Fisher Valentín Gridell and his best friend in all of Gaia."
Fish snorted. "My dad's a carpenter, Urs. 'A friend from work' is plenty. Don't be nervous."
"I'm not."
But she was. Maybe not as nervous as he was but nervous just the same. He brushed his fingers over the soft fabric covering the jar in his lap as Shawn entered the room, grinning as usual. He was dressed as a pirate, blackened teeth and everything, and he mistakenly held out his plastic hook for Ursula to shake before realizing his mistake. He retracted the offer, pulled off the hook, and stuck his hand out again.
"You must be Ursula," he said cheerily. "It's great to meet you."
"Same," Urs replied, appeased enough by his immediate recognition and good humor to overlook the lack of her self-made titles.
Following a brief pause during which his smile softened and he released Ursula's hand, Shawn went on. "So. Candy. I've bought more than we'll be able to give out to the kids who come knocking, if the past few years are anything to go by. I was thinking maybe we could bring it to them. We'd each take a pail outside and whenever we passed a kid in costume, we'd give them something."
Fisher nodded. It sounded like fun. Plus, with a little tweaking this plan had the potential to provide the perfect excuse to keep Ursula's coatless a** indoors. Before anyone else could express an opinion, he said, "Yeah. Sure. I've got some things I want to talk to you about, if you'd walk with me for a while. And Urs?"
"Hm?"
"You think you could watch the essence for me? Someone's got to stay here for the kids that do knock anyway."
Surprisingly, she didn't protest.
"By the way," he said, holding out the costumed jar in his father's direction. "This is it. The essence. Half of your grandkid."
Shawn turned, sharply but not aggressively, and gave the jar an appraising, slightly worried look. Fish pulled its costume off to one side so his father could see the catnip suspended within.
"Do I talk to it?"
"Yeah. Sure. I do all the time, but at this point that might be because I've gone a little insane. But I won't judge, I promise."
Shawn nodded. He swallowed, still looking at the jar. "Hey."
Any further introductions were interrupted by Lina's reentry. She had changed into a rather understated non-trademarked fairy costume, and the look of approval in Ursula's eyes was almost as sparkly and overwhelming as Lina's wings. The younger woman's mouth fell open for a handful of seconds before she snapped it shut.
"I think that's a good idea, Fisher. Ursula and I can stay here and throw glitter at the children who stop by while you and your father catch up." She smiled, Shawn smiled back, and Fisher couldn't help his answering chuckle. Throwing glitter at kids might not have been the most traditional of Halloween activities, but he knew Urs would love it.
"Okay then," he said, standing and handing off the essence to Ursula. "We'll be back soon."
Ten minutes later, they headed outside, buckets of tiny candy bars at the ready. Predictably, the first words out of Shawn's mouth were about Ursula. Or at least he assumed they were.
"She's fun."
"So's Lina. When you getting married?"
Shawn's face went white, then a patchy red, his forward motion stuttering a little. "What? We've only just met."
Fisher could have pointed out that his parents had barely been together eight months when they'd gotten married, and Shawn had already known Lina for at least six, but he knew that would only come back to bite him in the a**.
"I just wanted you to think about how that feels before you turn it on me. Urs and I are just friends." He held out his hand, dropping a couple of mini Snickers into a mini Iron Man's bag.
"No mentions of marriage. I promise." He still looked shaken. Fisher wondered for a moment whether Shawn had been referring to Ursula at all. Maybe he'd been a bit hasty.
"Sorry. That was always just... really annoying."
"Fair enough." He handed a little girl a couple of lollipops. "I was only ever trying to make sure you were happy."
"I was. I am. Mostly. I worry about the essence a lot these days. But things are fine. I'll make it work."
Shawn nodded. "You know I'm here to help."
"I do." Fish gave his father a sidelong glance and an uncertain smile. "When I figure out how to start, you'll be the first to know."
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Posted: Tue Jul 12, 2016 8:29 pm
busy While there was usually a noticeable dip in attendance between major holidays from the public's point of view, slow seasons at The Crystal Forest often masked the busiest times for those behind the scenes. Fisher hadn't had a true break since Halloween, and by the time he dragged his attention away from his work, it was twenty days until Christmas.
He still hadn't made any progress with his essence.
He hadn't bought gifts for anyone either.
He was a little frantic, and no amount of smiling at giddy children or choosing carpet swatches for the Merlin Spin refurb could calm him. His only hope was to go to the source of his yearly problem. Or, at least one of the sources.
"So," he said, taking a seat beside Ursula in the break room. "If someone was going to get you a present for Christmas, what would you tell them to get?"
She snorted, looking up from her phone. "Something that's a surprise, maybe? I'm sure you know me well enough by now to get me something I'd like."
"Your faith in me is comforting and uplifting in these dark times, but seriously. I can't. No matter how well I know a person, I suck at choosing gifts. No lie. One year Dad ended up with a pair of skis. He hates cold weather and he's got no balance to speak of, and... yeah. So, really. Any help would be appreciated. Please?"
"As you were buying these skis, didn't you stop to think that maybe they weren't a good idea? For the record, I'd love some skis."
"I did. I told myself that there were plenty of better, more suitable gifts. A knife set, a kite, a George Foreman grill. And I still bought the skis."
Ursula stared at him in disbelief. "A George Foreman... You really do suck at this."
"Yes. Yes. So, give me a hint, maybe?"
Her staring softened to plain consideration as he watched her, and she looked him over for a moment before replying. "Nope."
"Why not?"
"Because this is a serious illness, and I'm just the one to cure it. Imagine, years from now, when your Raevan opens their perfect gift and you think back on the day Ursula Rooney forced you to buy her a Christmas present instead of feeding you some uninspired list. This could change your life."
Fisher sighed. There would be no arguing with her. He could only hope she learned from the mistake she had just made.
She did.
Several weeks later, when she unwrapped her new Dancing Groot room guard and Walking Dead t-shirt (which was a couple of sizes too small at this point), Ursula promised him that the next time something like this came up, she would do precisely as he asked.
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Posted: Tue Jul 12, 2016 8:30 pm
doubts Fisher was depressed. The hangover wasn't helping.
Normally he hated drinking outside of social situations, and no matter where and when he did so, he hated having more than one of anything. But last night Ursula had shown up at his apartment with more bottles than she could carry, complaining of her inability to party while pregnant. It seemed he had graciously agreed to celebrate the new year in her name and in the names of at least a half a dozen Gambino citizens more intelligent than he was.
In hindsight he realized she had only been trying to help, to take his mind off of his indecisiveness and increasing agitation, but all she had done was get him sick, and he couldn't even be mad about it. It wasn't like she had held him down and forced him to chase seven beers with vodka shots or declare himself King of Pride Rock (his couch) and propose an accidental toast to his ceiling fan.
Reaching out the hand that wasn't gently throbbing, Fish pawed through the mess on his coffee table, thumbing out a text when he found his phone.Message sent, he rolled over and went back to sleep.
- - - - -
He didn't wake again until there was a knock at his door, and only then because it was their knock. He felt like a dried up slug dying on the sidewalk in the midday sun, a bug smeared across a car window by a curious toddler's fist, but he managed a smile for Urs as he opened the door anyway.
"Oh, hon."
"That bad?" His voice was shot, a breathy rasp that suggested he had been screaming for hours nonstop. For all he knew, he had been.
"I brought you a shirt. I'm guessing you didn't read your texts?"
"I was sleeping."
She nodded and nudged past him. "C'mon then." Ursula got Fisher settled with a cup of tea, some aspirin, and the aforementioned shirt, a heathered blue tee with a cartoon monkey emblazoned across the chest. She idly cleaned his apartment a bit while he worked up to having a conversation. It was only when he was almost ready to address her himself that she chose to speak, sitting gingerly to his left and taking his bruised hand in hers.
"You could have told me you didn't drink."
"I do though."
"What, like half a beer once a year? I feel like one of those a*****e teenagers in some after school special on the dangers of peer pressure."
He snorted. It hurt. "I'm a grown man, Urs, I promise. I could have stopped whenever I wanted."
They sat in silence for a minute or two, him sipping his tea, her rubbing her fingers over his knuckles, until the Lab's fancy invitation caught his eye and he sighed and pulled away. He thought he'd thrown it out, but there it was. The start of it all. The reason why he'd accepted every beer she'd opened and shot she'd poured without protest.
Last night, the Raevans and their guardians had gathered together to celebrate, hoping the new year would bring something better. His essence had spent that time quarantined in a corner, waiting in the dark to begin its life.
"I suck," he breathed into his mug. If he went by human fetus standards, he still had another month to get his s**t together. But it wasn't that simple. By striving for perfection, he had doomed the poor creature before it could even be conceived. For the millionth time, he considered giving the jar back, washing his hands of it and moving on, but he knew deep down he'd never follow through.
"I really do." He was too attached to let go. And he was already proving to be the worst father ever.
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Posted: Tue Jul 12, 2016 8:31 pm
a celebration, a promise Following Fisher's disastrous and self-piteous new year, Ursula threatened to shave his head while he slept if he wasn't smiling regularly again by her birthday. He tried his best.
Her party was held after hours at The Crystal Forest, where, surrounded by the friends she'd amassed over the past six months, she blew out her twenty-four candles and shoved a piece of her cake in Joe the Janitor's face. All in all, it was a pretty successful night.
It wasn't until they were on the bus ride home that Fisher got a chance to speak with her on his own.
"So. How'd I do?"
"With what?"
"My smiling. Is my hair safe from your vengeance?"
She looked up at his carefully maintained coif as she pulled her small hoard of gifts higher onto her lap.
"For now. You know, I'd forgotten all about that hair bet. You've seemed a lot happier this past month. I didn't think you were trying though."
"Hm." Fished glanced out the window. "I'm as happy as I've always been, I guess. But I think about that soul bottle all the time." He couldn't really help it, considering he still dusted the thing every day, but there was more to those thoughts than how much Windex to use.
"You should. I'd be more worried if you didn't think about it."
"Yeah. Maybe."
Ursula sighed. "Look. We know it's not frogs, dogs, cows, ducks, bats, hamsters, deer, or cats... obviously. So we need to try everything else. You've gotta bring the damn bottle outside and let it choose for itself." She deflated a little when she saw his expression. "And if you can't get over your control issues and do that, you've gotta crack open the internet again and keep going 'til you figure out how to make your perfect kid."
He didn't try to get her to calm down or cease her progressively excessive flailing, Fish just watched her grow louder and louder, attracting attention until most of the other passengers were staring. He knew how it must look—a visibly pregnant woman maniacally rattling off a list of animals long enough to populate a zoo, then ranting about perfect internet children—but he didn't care. It wasn't all that funny, but he laughed anyway, a rusty burst of amusement just pathetic enough to save him from reprimand when she sobered. She was right. He couldn't give up. He hadn't given up, he'd just slowed down a little. It was nice to know she still had his back, even when he was being a wishy-washy a*****e.
"All right. I'll... crack open the internet tonight. Just for you."
She nodded. The atmosphere in the bus seemed to cool with her, as if she had been unwittingly using one of her lightning stones on everyone present. Fisher looked back out the window for the length of a calming inhale and exhale, enjoying the relative silence.
"So. Jim the janitor," he finally said, smirking as he changed the subject. "Was that cake to the face an act of disgust or an invitation?"
"An invitat-eeeecchh! Jim's... old, you weirdo!"
He reined in a comment about the likely age of her fae king and said, "He's only in his forties, not some doddering pants-shitter. And he cleans for a living. Your house would never be dirty ag—"
She struck suddenly, a flurry of punches starting at his shoulder and trailing down his arm.
"Okay. Okay! Forget I said anything!" Fish held his hands in front of his face and laughed as she launched her second attack, pummeling him with a stuffed manatee someone had gifted her. Then, just as abruptly, she stopped.
"Better."
"What is?"
"You're laughing. And I'm the cause, so you can't possibly be faking it."
"Obviously." He smiled, shaking his head. "I promise I'm fine, even when I'm not making a spectacle on a bus."
"If you say so. I've got my eye on you."
"Don't threaten me."
She started to laugh, but her mirth was interrupted by a sudden spike of nerves. She sat ramrod straight, squinting out the window in search of the nearest street sign.
"You didn't miss it. You're up next."
She calmed, leaning over and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "Thanks. And... buck up there, sport."
He snorted. "Happy birthday, Urs. See you tomorrow."
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