READ THIS NEEEOOWWWW
Printer issues, ur here, Flower Shop, The Stranger- Pt2, Pt3, pt.4, Spider in the Dark, Two is better than One, next part?
Sasha rubbed her eyes. The light glow of the computer was beginning to blur together. She had spent most of the afternoon listening to Tim complain to Martin about Jon and for Martin to, not that she was surprised, back Jon up to a nauseating degree. She was trying to track the location of the original Breekon and Hope delivery service since they dropped off an odd antique desk as well as a lighter. Her attempts seemed to be in vain other than a few news articles and the statements Jon had given her.
"Oh come on Martin, just admit he's a little insane."
"Christ Tim! He's tired and stressed, we have bloody worms crawling around outside. Cut him some slack!"
Sasha sighed and stood up, passing her fellow assistants. She would try the library, maybe if she could find some documents or even a newspaper or something. Anything to get away from their bickering and out of the mocking glow of her computer.
The actual library was used mainly by the students and such. The only part of the Institute that had any credibility left. It was mostly empty this time of day. Sasha took a corridor down into the 'public records' section, passing a yellow door that made her pause.
Has it always been there? It was a tacky color for such a bland colorless hallway. Sasha didn't have the brainpower to pay it any mind, instead finding the bookshelf with company logs. She managed to actually locate the documents that mapped out the original building used for the service and even tracked down the records for the service vehicles. But in relation to where it was and what happened to it, that information was foggy.
Sasha hummed and passed another aisle to look through records about shipments, passing yet another yellow door. She paused in front of it and frowned. Was there always a door there?
Ah. Right. She should have expected sooner.
Nonetheless, Sasha ignored it and continued on. The silence was starting to get to her, she opened the third directory, trying to desperately track a shipment that Breekon and Hope supposedly sent out. It ended up going across the sea from a ship she suspected to be Lukas's, but after that the record is simply blank.
She was able to figure out a few residents that had gotten deliveries so it wasn't a complete fail. Of course Sasha had to wonder how many of those people weren't missing or passed away by now but that was a worry for a different day. For now she was content to have the scowling lady at the desk fax over the newspaper clippings as well as deliver the bundle of shipment catalogs down to Jon's office. She felt satisfied enough to ignore the yellow door she passed on her way out of the Institute and towards her usual spot for coffee.
Sasha ordered her usual and a slice of toffee pudding before she took a seat by the window and watched the cars go by.
"Is this seat taken?"
Her gaze snapped up towards the familiar voice, recognizing him instantly by the cacophony of colors in his coat and the spotted scarf that didn't seem to sit correctly over his shoulder. Micheal stood lax in front of her, his hands hidden in his coat pockets and his blonde hair washing over his back and curling in on itself over the side of his face.
"Not at all." She responded, watching him blur into the chair in front of her. He rested his chin in his palm, a giddy smile shifting and warping like tree leaves in a breeze.
"This place is quite more to my liking than your place that watches." He hummed, looking somewhere past her.
"I agree."
"Tell me, assist-" Micheal chuckled and looked at her, "-excuse me, Sasha" he amended, "Why not leave for someplace more like this?"
She shrugged and took a sip of her drink. "I like working at the archives."
"Right. That ugly place isn't worth what the crawling rot gives it credit for."
Sasha frowned slightly and shook her head, "the crawling- what?!"
Micheal laughed in response. The sound was starting to lose its sting in her ears.
"Whaaaat," His smile spread with every word like pulled taffy. "My dear you truly have no clue about the happening around your Institute."
She rolled her eyes. "Well you've been a massive help."
He just laughed again. "The ceaseless watcher doesn't like me, my Dear, but that doesn't mean I cannot intervene."
Sasha didn't have the patience to wonder what the hell he was referring to. "I think you just like freaking Jon out."
Micheal's grin twisted over his features and shifted as he moved to lean back, his hair flickering out into nothing before moving out again as normal. "Yes, confusing the archivist is fun." He looked over his shoulder at nothing in particular before turning back towards her, "but that's not why I've decided to help."
"You have a strange idea of what 'help' is."
He giggled. "Ideas are arbitrary."
"And so is this conversation." Sasha shook off the headache trying to buzz through her ears. "Is it too forward to ask why you are here?"
Micheal giggled again and reached out, his hand covering over hers. "Because, my Dear, you...Confuse me."
Sasha didn't really have a response to that. Instead looking down at where his hand draped over hers. Sharp, boney things that seemed not right to her eyes, but it didn't hurt, and they were quite soft for the illusion of pointed tips. Jon had mentioned that Micheal had referred to himself as the 'throat of delusion' so she shouldn't have been surprised.
But Jon didn't get all the details right. Micheal was certainly dangerous, she wouldn't deny that, and it was clear he probably knew things that might help them, but he wasn't actively trying to set the institute on fire and that was a lot better than the other things they were dealing with currently.
"You stalk people that confuse you?"
"Surely I don't know what you mean." He made a dramatic hand gesture to follow the slight nod and sly grin.
"That was you, in the archives, your door."
"Mayyybe."
"Why?"
"You search for information in the depths of your own understanding, yet you are blind to the truth in front of you."
"Really not an answer, Micheal."
He chuckled. "Entertainment then."
Sasha took another sip of her drink. "How do I confuse you?"
"You ask a lot of questions, my Dear." He stood, his scarf seemingly growing around him as he drew himself up like the fuzz of cotton. The colors dragging in place, slow to reconnect to the places on his coat. "Until next time, Archiv-, Sasha." And he disappeared into the sea of sounds around her.
HELEN AS ENA???? đ
Helen Distortion đ«¶
@wren-of-the-flock
There he go
gummy lamas
Skin are yummy sometimes :3
You're a beauty
[Eats your hair (not romantically)]
why must everyone want to eat me? Why?
I GOT A HAIRCUT AND I FEEL SO FUCKING MASCULINE AND I LOVE IT AND THIS MAKES ME SO HAPPY I WAS BOUNCING ALL DAY AND THE WORLD MUST KNOW.
michael awareness poster
Ur here, Lunch Date, Flower Shop, The Stranger- pt.2, pt.3, pt.4, Spider in the dark, Two is better than One, next part?
(A conversation between Sasha and Micheal before the siege of Jane Prentiss)
Sasha stared as the printer sputtered and grunted. A pause, another sound before silence. She grumbled and hit the roof of the printer a second time. Nothing. A small mechanical shutter and then nothing. Sasha let out an exasperated sigh and sat back. It was unbelievable that she could hack into anything Jon asked her to, but she was thwarted by a damn printer. She considered bugging Elias about it but she wasn't in the mood to deal with him. If she wanted the details to the statement printed, she'd have to use the printer at the desk to artifact storage.
Just lovely.
Sasha dragged her hands through her hair as she made her way to the other end of the Institute. She didn't have to pretend she enjoyed the place. It wasn't... Natural. She had figured out that much. And not just because of the worm infestation gathering outside the walls of the Institute. She had felt it before as well. She sensed it when they had followed up on statements only to find the person dead or missed. She had noticed it when at her desk and it felt like a thousand eyes staring daggers into the back of her head. And she noticed it now as she sat behind the Artifact storage reception desk and logged in, praying desperately that the printer would connect and behave in a timely manner.
The printer made a small wine and a short compliant huff before a paper started feeding through. Sasha dared to breathe. The paper pushed its way through and the printer made a delighted chime. She frowned. The printer paper, which should have printed out an information sheet about a drug company in relation to a health crisis, was instead a mess of colors and patterns, Sasha found it was hard to look at after a while.
Just. Bloody. Lovely.
She didn't have time to think before laughter ricocheted off of the wall and shattered through her mind. Micheal. Lord, she really needed to get paid more.
Sasha forced herself to at least try and stay calm.
"Hello again, Archivist Assistant, what leads you down here to such a place?"
She eye'd him carefully. The last interaction had left her compromised and almost dead in a graveyard and while she was safely within the Institute, she doubted that would actually be a genuine factor against him.
"The printer wasn't working." She answered rather dumbly.
He giggled and walked forward, picking up the headache of colors splattered over the paper and looking it over. "It doesn't seem broken to me." He laughed again and she felt it in her bones.
She shook her head and swallowed. "No- not this one, the one upstairs."
"Ah yes, well that one has never seemed to work." He giggled again and she managed a small frown.
What would he know about the institute's printer? She thought it was best not to ask. Instead she carefully moved towards the computer and gestured at the screen. "That's why I'm opting to use this one."
"You should try again then." His hair washed over his jaw and his shoulder as he tipped his head. His grin spreading further than the confines of his face.
Right. Sasha clicked print and watched the printer go through the motions of odd sounds before spitting out yet another distorted array of colors and shapes. Maybe she'd just be better off telling Jon he wasn't getting a paper version. Surely she could just email the details to him?
Micheal's laughter reverberated through the room as he leaned against the counter, holding his face in too long fingers.
"My, my, Assistant, whatever are you printing?"
Sasha let out a half hearted chuckle. It was too late into the day to have to deal with this. She ignored his question. "Yeah, obviously this isn't working."
"Giving up already? Oh Assistant, come on, give it another try." His smile was all teeth.
"It's Sasha." She said, rubbing her forehead.
"The printer has a name?"
"No, Micheal, my name. My name is Sasha."
He laughed again, his form spreading out like smoke before reflecting colors like glass, just transparent enough to see through whilst also noticing your reflection.
"So you say, will you try again?"
"Yes cause I'm sure it'll work better than the first two times."
"Sasha?"
She snapped her head in the direction of the voice, seeing Sally walking towards her with a concerned expression and carrying a stack of books.
"Who are you talking to?"
Sasha turned back to where Micheal was standing, except Micheal was gone and the door he had come from no longer seemed to exist. Of course.
"Oh um, no one, just talking to myself."
Sally didn't press the matter, instead disappearing down an adjacent hall. Sasha scowled and tried pressing print again, almost crying with relief as the document finally printed. Sasha quickly grabbed it and went to walk away before glancing back at the tray. Back at the two distorted pages. She grabbed those as well, folding them up and tucking them into her purse.
----------------------------------------------
"Thank you, Sasha, I'll have Martin look into the drug company's representative tomorrow."
"Great, just don't ask me to print out anything in the future, I've had quite enough to last me for a while."
Jon gave her a quizzical expression and Sasha let out a belated sigh.
"Nevermind, I'm headed home. Don't forget to feed yourself, Jon."
He muttered some backhanded response and she headed for home.
Sasha tossed her purse on the kitchen counter and started brewing a cup of tea. She spent most of the evening getting out of work mode and into comfier attire. Finally pulling out the distorted papers from her bag and looking them over. The colors were...pretty. For lack of a better word. Oddly distracting, mildly disorienting, but pretty nonetheless. She hummed and taped them to her fridge. A bit of eye-catching decoration never hurt anyone.
C A T S .
I went wild with this one :D
Printer issues, Lunch Date, Flower Shop, The Stranger pt.1, pt.2, pt.3, pt.4, Spider in the Dark, ur here, next part?
Sasha entered her apartment with the quiet click of the front door. She tossed her backpack onto the chair in the kitchen and started a cup of tea. A clatter from the adjacent room caught her attention. She frowned slightly before peeking her head into the other room.
It took her a moment to process the scene before her eyes.
Micheal was sitting on her living room floor, long fingers carefully curling through the fur of a content cat purring below him. She noted a secondary feline to the left, pawing at a strand of long spindly blonde hair. He glanced at her lazily, tipping his head to the side and humming.
There was only one thing wrong with this picture. Sasha didn't own pets.
"Micheal-what?"
His smile widened. "Hello my dear."
She gestured to the cat now rolling onto its back as Micheal petted its belly. "Where did these come from?"
He looked over at the one still playing with his hair. "They followed someone into my corridors. They followed me here."
Right. Sasha shook her head and sat down, the one on its back stretched out before moving towards her curiously, it had orange hair like a tabby. She pet it and it purred in response.
"Micheal."
"Sasha."
"I don't have the stuff for these guys. I barely have the room, you don't really expect me too-" Her words were cut short as she watched the grey one tangled in Micheal's hair sound out a small mewl as Micheal tenderly picked it up in its hands with too much bone and fingers that stretched too far across. The cat didn't seem to mind.
Micheal hummed as he watched the cat in his arms twist and curl, purring contently as if Micheal wasn't a terrifying monster. Sasha dared to smile.
"I believe, if I remember correctly, these creatures need food, water." He chimed lightly. Sasha rolled her eyes.
"Fine. There's a store down the way from here. They have pet supplies." Sasha sighed as she stood to her feet. "And they are cats, Micheal."
He didn't so much as stand to his feet, rather a blur of motion and colors that stretched out and scattered like sand before he was standing in front of her. "Cats. Yes."
She grabbed her bag and walked towards the door, stopping when she realized Micheal was following her.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm coming with you of course." He giggled, "silly question."
"Right." Sasha smiled, "This won't end badly at all."
----------------------------------------------
The actual trip wasn't horrible.
Besides the fact that every single dog started barking at Micheal which earned them a few curious glances from the staff, they made it out with a sack of cat food, cat litter, and a box. Even more than she had expected, Micheal paid. Handing the cash to the women as Sasha looked at him with such a confused expression she partially believed he did it just to see her reaction. Laughing as they left the store with the supplies. She simply shook her head.
"I think- he had one."
Sasha looked over at him, he looked, well, human. The way his coat sat on his shoulders and down past his boots, his hands wrapped around a bag of cat food. His eyes trained on nothing before looking over at her with a sharp smile.
Sasha frowned. "Who?"
"Micheal. Before-" His words echoed and trailed off.
Sasha understood. "I'm sorry." The words felt stupid in her mouth.
"Do not be, its-" he paused. "It's a nice memory, I am not sorry to have it, amongst the fractals of everything and nothing and the not-in between, it is nice."
Sasha thought about her question a moment before asking. "What's it like?"
"What?"
"The...what you said about the fractals and the nothingness, delusion...what's it like?"
"It Is Not What It Is and it is a part of me" he said it like a broken tune from some forgotten nursery rhyme. "It is madness- throaty, hollow, the depths of doubt- madness that stirs in the mind. It is not a physicality, but, within it, there is a certainâŠâ He paused. âAh! Beauty. Like a fine piece of decoration in a mundane hallway." Micheal laughed long and hard as they approached her building.
"You say it's beautiful?"
He giggled and shook his head. "You tell me, my dear, what with your It Knows You, all that knowledge will never satisfy, never relief, you see all and yet-" They entered her house to the two cats scratching up her couch and seemingly content with life. âMadness floods the senses and dilutes the mind, leaving it clear. It changes perception, blinds reality. It's a song sung with all the wrong notes and the wrong tune but it is beautiful nonetheless.â He sat the bag on the kitchen table and she prepared two bowls.
âA broken melody is still broken.â
âAh, but only you would know if it's broken.â
Sasha paused and stared at him. He was crouched down, pouring the food into the bowl she had provided. It got everywhere and he giggled. Letting out a hummed âoops.â Before moving a long finger to scatter the dropped food even further. His hair cascaded around his shoulders and swept across the floor, the grey cat already taking interest in his dubbed playtoy.
She understood what he meant. And maybe there was a relieving beauty to it. Someoneâs only lost if they themselves donât know how to get to their destination. But if someone is simply wandering, well. There could be a comfort to that. Ignorance is bliss after all. A buzz of muddled headspace that someone looks for within drugs or alcohol. A weight lifted from the mind as it's consumed by something that isnât tangible.
âDo you understand?â He looked back at her, the pieces of food that had missed the bowl now nowhere to be seen. The two cats had taken an interest in the food and water and were quick to indulge themselves. She looked into Michealâs eyes, the swirling spirals that seemed to impossibly dilate as he looked at her. He seemed softer, somehow. All folded up and crouched on her floor seemingly as protection to the felines happily eating away. His sweater changed and morphed in color and she half wondered where his coat went. His scarf was wound around his neck and seemed to move like a snake, continually curling over his shoulders. Twisting and bending and pulling in every direction. He was an enigma to look at. Madness. An ever shifting idea that barely took shape before it was changing again. Beautiful. She decided.
He was beautiful.
She almost forgot he was waiting for a response. âI understand.â The words didnât feel nearly enough. Some part of her reminded herself that she was supposed to be scared of this thing that had casually dropped two cats at her feet like it was nothing. This thing that bought the supplies with money she wasnât sure he was even supposed to have. This thing that had given her a distorted flower that she still had in the living room. This thing that followed her around with a curiosity she couldnât explain. This thing that had kissed her cheek instead of killing her when she had been in its corridors. She ignored that voice and instead moved to fix the litter box in the washroom.
Not even an hour later she was curled up on the couch petting the tabby as Micheal played with the gray one on the floor not even a foot away.
âWhat are their names?â She asked him, breaking the silence that seemed to muffle Michealâs laughter as he let the cat swipe at his long fingers, pulling them away just in time.
âNames are redundant.â
She rolled her eyes. âI think Iâll call this one Pumpkin.â
He didnât look away from the cat, letting it catch his fingers and pull them down to bite playfully. Micheal hardly seemed bothered. âDaisies.â
âThe cat? Thatâs a pretty name.â
âNo-â He giggled. âI remembered. I was picking them up.â He drew his hand away and pointed at the mess of lines and colors that had once been a flower, sitting in a jar on the coffee table.
Sasha smiled back. âDaisy it is. Pumpkin and Daisy.â
He's just- not good... Bad at his job. so go find someone else
h0w t0 wIn eM0tI0nS N0 gLUe nO B0raX
YAAAA THANK YOU (by the way he's cute can I keep him)
Guess who just forgot how to post...
wow! Finally do my to do list on drawing Taurice after years of planning! How cruel of me!
@oopsarboreal your boy
Also my OC's bc why not? †something pulled me in the fandom again, yay!
Sorry not much, trying to fight my art block rn and what I can do is doing this doodlesđ
By the way
I forgot something lol but idk Anymoređ (YAEY I DRAW SOMETHING!!)
1120 is myself. trying to find a fitting place for an abnormal thing like me. mengapa saya terkutuk dengan kebingungan...?
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