Chapter 8: It's Friday I'm In Love

A girl with hair dark as the time night sky above saw gravestones for as far as the eye could allow. To the standard inhabitant of Royal Woods, or likely of any locale, it would have been a sight of unease or even sorrow, but for her it brought acceptance. Completeness. The final resting place for all, and a sanctuary in which one could bring themselves closer to that realm beyond the mere shell of the body. A viewership into the greater fate that they would one day become one with as so many before them had. This cemetery however blew with a breeze that she found comforting. Too comforting. If she had had any belief into the reality of the world around her, the change to a more ferocious wind alongside the shift in her thoughts dismissed those notions. She'd known it was a location of fantasy. A harmonic fantasy, but a fantasy none-the-less.

That wasn't to say Lucy was displeased however. Quite the opposite in fact. As with her previous visit to the mental mirage, the girl moved her hand out from her body and jerked it into the air allowing a rotted corpse to spring forth from the ground below. Smiling, she performed the action three more times and pressed her thoughts into the zombies' heads. Groaning, they turned to her, ripped a gravestone out of the ground, and lowered it in front of her. Once she had gotten on, the servants lifted the heavy piece of stone to their shoulders and started off towards what Lucy felt had been the center of the graveyard last time. From the height she sat at on her throne, it didn't take long for her to spot their destination off in the distance. A smile spread further across her face as the silhouettes of the upright coffin and its "keeper" became more defined.

Given the state of her aides, it took longer than one might deem acceptable to reach their end, but she didn't mind. She rather enjoyed the view of the hallowed landscape. And besides, had she willed it she could have just likely lifted herself into the air and flown right over to the vampire's side, she herself fully capable of their abilities and more within the fictional realm that she traversed. But that would ruin the full appreciation of the resting places which they passed, each soul-ridden province deserving of its acknowledgment. Somehow or another she knew she could take as long as she desired. The plane of dreams worked in a different manner than those within the land of consciousness, especially when it came to how time worked. Even so, the closer they got the quicker the zombies' pace seemed to progress until eventually they stood before the erect vampire and let their mistress to the ground in front of him.

"Edwin," Lucy bowed. The vampire returned the gesture with a nod and held out his arm to the coffin beside him. "Sigh," she said clasping her hands together as she took a step forward and smiled at the wooden box, "Tonight's the night. It's finally here...oh Edwin, if only you could accompany me. We could welcome him as the first of my undead consorts..." Out of the corner of her vision Lucy noticed Edwin's face drop a bit in dismay. She may have been curious as to the motive to the expression, but her desire for the boy she sought took precedence. Needing not to be told, Edwin's hand reached across the coffin lid.

As Lucy's eyes trailed upwards towards the limb however she noticed something. The coffin...it was...different than last time. Not by much, but it was noticeable to someone of her degree of expertise in the subject. It was as though it had begun to shift into another type of material for its composition. With the oddity of the coffin's design came a sense of anxiousness. Did she want it opened now? Was what had resided within it previously the same, or did something else now inhabit its hollow interior? Whatever the contents, she could feel madness building from the suspense. Lucy contemplated just flinging the entrance open herself, but managed to remain motionless until Edwin's arm had finished its seemingly eternal pull at which point she took a step back and nearly fell over.

The figure that lay before her was still that of a boy. One possibly matching the height of the one she had seen before her in the coffin on her previous visit. But he was different. Some of the features were the same, but others had been changed. And changed just enough that she could make out the presence of someone else entirely from the body. What had been silvery strands atop the round head were now white as snow. The shape of the hair itself wafted off of the head towards the back in three familiar protrusions. And the visible front tooth had a prominent chip in the center of it.

"...L...Lincoln?..." she mumbled. Taken aback by the reveal, Lucy stood there looking the body over. Occasionally she would take a step to the side or lean a bit, but would generally return to her previous perplexed positioning. Hoping for answers she looked to Edwin but he looked away, his face again hanging with dismay. "...what...what is this?" Lucy asked taking a step towards the unmoving boy. As she reached out to touch him his eyes snapped open as the previous occupant's had on her last visit. The same dead stare pierced into her's causing her to jump in surprise. This time however she did not turn from the startle. No instead the hop had landed her on a few unbalanced rocks and her feet were kicked out from under her causing her to fall forward right onto Lincoln's chest.

In a panic she tried to pull herself away, but found the task surprisingly hard. For some reason her limbs hung downwards with a newfound sleepiness, on top of which something seemed to be pressing her head towards the body she'd presumably landed on. Fighting off the burst of tiredness, Lucy twisted her head about to try and get it free from the loose clamp that pressed on it. She had been surprised at the prominence of a somewhat comforting smell. She recognized it from Lincoln's room, but given the state of his body in her fantasy she had not expected it to possess as much of a scent. Once she got her head free though she understood just why the aroma had filled her nostrils as much as it had and she blushed. In her franticness to free herself she had not taken the time to notice the rising and falling of the chest her face had been stuck to.

Looking up she could see Lincoln's slacked mouth hanging open as it drew in its sleep-filled breaths. Slowly trailing her eyes down his body, Lucy could see that he wasn't wearing what he had in the coffin. Orange shirt, blue pants. He was in his usual attire and they, she could now tell through the darkness that she'd gotten used to, were lying on his bed. Her first thoughts were to jump out of it and try to sneak out, but her body suggested otherwise and lowered her head back into a more restful stance on his chest. For minutes she lay there, listening to his breaths as they filled his lungs and pumped the blood through his veins. She smiled a bit each time a louder heart-beat sounded. Lucy couldn't tell if she fell asleep again or not. It felt like hours that she laid there enjoying the senses. Normally she raveled in the non-life of the world, but in those moments she found herself appreciating the energy of a body.

With her mind between sleep and consciousness she lifted herself up to crouch over the boy. As carefully as possible she reached out her hand and ran her fingers along his sleeping face, the touch not even rippling a reaction from him. He just continued breathing and eventually formed the mouth into a more happy expression, the face doing the same to Lucy's. She could feel a warmness dance across her's but she didn't mind. Not in those moments. Not under the cover of darkness where others would not seek. Not in the loneliness of the seclusion that she was so familiar with. But this...this wasn't familiar. Instead of the absolute sheer isolation there was now another. Someone to share in that endless nothingness. And that, for whatever fraction it did, brought some form of...comfort. Lucy laid down at his side and wrapped her arms around him while her face buried into his neck. His scent flowed through her nostrils now. Had she the choice, she might have stayed there like that forever.

In a way she felt regret. She had insisted so much on getting him to help her only for it to end up interrupted with each day. One of the other sisters might put the blame on him, but she was the one that had initiated the ordeal. And in spite of all the setbacks and delays, Lincoln never once tried backing out of it. Hell, it'd been a relief that he had even agreed to help to begin with. But he'd been there for her, even alongside his usual sacrifices he gave to try and help others. Taking in another breath of his scent, Lucy pushed her face along his cheek and peered over it at his. She knew the warmness painted her face crimson. She doubted it'd even gone away since the first instance she felt the blush. Yes, she felt regret...but she also felt something else. Happiness...ease...peace. He'd given her interaction that she rarely ever felt from others before. And for a whole week.

"Sigh..." she said quietly and squeezed her cheek tight against his, "...thank you..." The response she got made her stomach feel like someone had turned on a washing-machine inside it. The glow of her face never went away, but it had been fading somewhat until she felt his arm wrap around her waist and constrict her body against his. His own face perpetuated the same oblivious unconscious intakes of air he had had before. Her teeth clenching in her hesitant lips, Lucy placed one of her hands on the shoulder opposite of where she lay to return the gesture and rubbed her cheek against his. She didn't know if she could ever thank him enough for his part in her conflict, but she would be forever grateful.

For however pleasant the restful recompense felt however, it would have to end. Another rub against his cheek was enough to stir something in Lincoln's face. Nervously Lucy lifted away from him and watched as the muscles of his head pulsed and tightened. She held her breath for a good ten seconds before the tense movement died down and he returned to a more relaxed sleep. It took even more seconds, maybe even minutes, for Lucy to pull out of his loosening grip and inch back a bit. That had been close. She was sure that Lincoln wouldn't chastise her much for the embrace. After all, they'd both fallen asleep there. But it would probably have been best to save him the embarrassment of waking up to such...affection. If nothing else, he wouldn't have to deal with another of the startles she gave to those around her.

Quietly, she swam over to the bottom of the bed and flung her feet out to the ground. She took another look at her brother and smiled at his adorable curled-up body. A look to his side however dropped the expression. On the clock next to him glowed the current time. And it was time that she couldn't spare. According to it, the family would be up and about to start their morning routines in around half-an-hour. For Friday. The final day of the school-week. And the final day for their operation. Figuring it best to remain as inconspicuous as she could to the rest of the family, Lucy got to her feet and grabbed her backpack. She stopped at the door though to look back at Lincoln. After glancing to her own room through the crack, she turned back and skipped over to the boy. Gently she wrapped her arms around his head and nuzzled her face into his hair taking in his smell one last time.

She wished she could have stayed, she truly did. It was just so...intoxicating. The feeling of having someone there...with...with her... But there was work to be done, and she couldn't afford to screw things up so late into the agenda. Besides, when it was all said and done, she would have someone. That was the whole point of what they were doing. That night she would finally be acquainted with the one that would satiate her. The round-faced boy with light hair. Absent-mindedly her hand trailed along Lincoln's jawline in thought. The way he'd stood there seeking out a companion. Oh how it prodded at her unbeating heart. That figure of isolated want. It beckoned those of similar lonesomeness.

"Sigh..." Lucy said as she rubbed her cheek atop her brother's head, "just a little bit longer..."

"But we've been...waiting for...hours...Lucy..." Lincoln's unexpected voice caused her to jerk her head into the air and look down at him. Worry turned to relief as she viewed his still sleep-induced state. "We can...try summoning zombies...some other time..." he snored. Lucy smiled and tilted her head down against the strands covering his one.

"Oh dear brother..." she said quietly, "though you traverse the dreamscape and your senses are far removed from our own world, I hope that...somehow...some...way...you know...how much this means to me...how much you...mean to me..." Only receiving a head wobble and another snore from him, Lucy grinned and backed away from the bed. It was a bit hard to break vision with his sprawled figure, but eventually she did and found herself in the dim hallway of the Loud House's upstairs. Slowly and quietly she closed his door and began making her way towards her and Lynn's room. Just as she reached for the handle to their door however she stopped and looked down the hallway to the door opposite of Lincoln's. The bathroom. The holy sanctuary of the household. It...was open...and empty...and there was at least twenty-five more minutes before the rest of the family was up and about. Not even needing to think about the decision, Lucy hopped on over to the tiled chamber and began her preparations early.


In a half-blackened room a tuft of brown hair turned beneath its covers, the sheets pulling back from the limbs beneath it in the process. Carelessly the exposed girl's tongue hung out of her mouth while her throat filled with saliva and choked it down in a discomforted snort before continuing the previous bought of snoring. Even had she been awake she wouldn't have given much more structure to her position. Given her age and her interests, Lynn Jr. gave very little attention to her decorum. While most girls her age were contemplating the latest boy of interest, she was more focused on beating those boys...and those girls. Proving just how much better she was at it all. It's who she was. The dominant one. The star player. That whom everyone else should look up to. Should see as the example to aspire to.

Maybe that's why she'd been so confounded by Lucy's actions the other day. Lincoln had asked to see her and Lynn had crushed his foot in the door for what he'd done to them. But Lucy? She went to him. Willingly. And Lynn could have almost sworn she felt some...animosity towards her own actions when her roommate had parted. There hadn't been much activity the following day, but she definitely noticed the absence of the black-haired girl in the evening hours. She'd given a quick little scope around the house, mainly out of curiosity. She'd assumed Lucy had just decided to stole away in the vents or attic or something when she finally stumbled upon a bit of a surprising scene. Though still not caring to see Lincoln, she did make sure to check his room. For whatever reason, Lucy had been clinging to his sleeping form and had been fast asleep herself.

Lynn wasn't sure what was with the goth. She knew that Lucy cared about him more than some of the other sisters pretty often. It may have been hard for the less acquainted to tell, but Lynn literally lived with her. She knew how to tell the signs, as much as Lucy might not have wanted her to be able to. And the signs usually pointed to her having more worry for Lincoln than the typical resident whenever he got into his mishaps. She might have participated in the collective riling against him when offense was on display, but by and large she either showed more of an indifference towards his more reprimandable actions or hid her concern for him beneath them.

But why was she choosing now to be so defending of him? All that Lynn had done was slam his foot in the door. That was nothing compared to some of the pain she put him through normally. And those instances were WITHOUT the intent of vengeance. But the door-slam? That had been simply what Lincoln had deserved for the little stunts he'd pulled with Lisa's Help-...Butler-...Assist-...the little stunts he'd pulled with Lisa's robot. Lucy herself had been a victim. EDWIN had been defaced. That was cause for possibly a flat-out beating from her. But instead she hugged the culprit in her sleep? What the hell? Her actions made no sense. Coughing on some saliva, Lynn rolled onto her side and faced the wall.

Lynn had to admit, sometimes they were a bit hard on the brother of the family, but he was used to it. And aside from that, he'd brought the misery on himself. Why then didn't Lucy approve of her stance? How could she just forgive him for the ruination of her "vampire love"? There was no way she cared about Lincoln so much that it over-rid the preservation of her favorite bust...was there? No...no there had to be something more to it...but what? Maybe...maybe she just needed a reminder of what he'd done. Hearing a creak, Lynn's body tensed up. Had she been another sister she might not have noticed the near unaffecting footsteps that paced towards the other bed of the room once the door shut. Someone had certainly gotten back late. She could just barely hear the soft rustle of sheets from the bed behind her back. Lynn saw little reason for Lucy to lay down with how close it must have been to the time to get up.

Sure enough, within a few minutes at most, her alarm clock sounded joining the others of the rooms surrounding their's. With a stretch, Lynn let out a yawn and threw away the covers. Peeking to her side she watched the younger girl of the room practically raise into a sitting position from where she'd laid down as if she'd been in a lifting recliner chair. Lynn rolled her eyes. There seemed to be nothing her sister could do without dramatics involved. After hopping to the ground, Lynn did some morning stretches and jogged in place a bit while Lucy pulled her backpack onto her bed and pretended to arrange some items for the school day. Once she felt she'd wasted enough time with the imaginary preparations, Lucy reached beneath her bed and pulled her favorite wax-lipped companion out which Lynn instantly took notice of.

"Well, looks like Mr. Freak-Fangs is back in shape," Lynn commented as she walked towards the door, "LINCOLN really did a number on him huh?"

"Yes Edwin is certainly in better "spirits"," Lucy agreed as she beamed at her object of adoration happily. Lynn cocked a brow with the emptiness that came afterwards. No reply towards the one that had done the damage. She seemed to take no notice of the accusation. Scrunching up her face, Lynn shook her head and decided to take her exit in the wake of Lucy's ignorance. She really wished she could figure the girl out. Lucy however, with her roommate now gone, opened one of the pockets of her bag and pulled out a slightly wrinkled piece of paper. On it was drawn a familiar figure. A boy with a round head, a chipped tooth, and white hair wearing clothing more fit for a vampire than himself. Finally having time to think, Lucy wound her mind back towards the more mental experiences of the night. The graveyard. The coffin. The boy.

Why?...why had Lincoln been there that time? In the previous instance it had been the boy from Goth Mic Night. The object of her desires. That had been quite clear. Where had he gone? And...why? In his place had laid her brother. Sure they had...similarities now that she thought about it, but that was no reason for them to be interchangeable. Even Edwin had shown his own signs of discomfort towards the contents of the coffin. As if he viewed Lincoln in the same competition of affection as the boy from Goth Mic Night. Thinking back over the previous day, Lucy blushed when she remembered a moment towards the end.

"...he's my brother. What did you expect me to say to her?" she asked as she picked the bust up. That must have been what it'd been about. A bought of Edwin's jealously working its way into her subconscious. The statue just stared back her. "You know you're my eternal dark flower Edwin. But Lincoln's...family. I had to say something to Lana."

"Say what to who?" a voice asked. Moving so fast her arms were a blur, Lucy pulled Lincoln's vampire picture out of sight and jerked her head over to see him standing in the doorway. Grinning he tapped the wood of the frame with his knuckles. "Knock knock," he joked before strolling over to the side of her bed. Lucy tilted her head down. If it truly had been just an excuse, why did she feel the need to hide the redness dancing across her cheeks? It probably was just due to having been almost "caught" discussing him right then. Not to mention seeing him for the first time since their...nap. Lucy's cheeks felt like they were going to explode when she remembered just what she'd done shortly after her waking. THAT was what she was so nervous about. That had to be it. She tried to turn her mind to more calming things, but as Lincoln approached, the vivid memories of the touch of his skin against her's made sure her complexion remained as it was. Picking up a whiff of his smell in the midst of her reminiscence only served to make her coloring even more unbearable. By the time he'd sat down next to her, Lucy was pushing air in and out of her nostrils to try and regain her composure.

"Luce?...you okay?...what's wrong?" Lincoln asked having noticed her downturned silence.

"Nothing!" she responded suddenly, her face turning up to him with a forced toothy smile. Lincoln scooted back a few centimeters from the surprise. It hadn't just been the swift motion of her head, but also the state of her face. The clenched teeth. The fading hue.

"Um...okay uh...y-you sure?"

"Yes."

The two sat there staring at each other for a moment until Lucy, unable to view anymore, turned her head to the other side to relieve her tense expression. Lincoln turned his eyes around the room looking for something to speak about but found very little.

"Wait..." Lucy murmured, "why aren't you in the bathroom?"

"First one in there today!" Lincoln winked. Then he paused and gave her a suspicious glance. "...why weren't you there?..."

"Oh um..FIRST first one in there," she smiled. Lincoln thought about the wording for a second and grinned.

"Lucky."

"Just got the experience," Lucy boasted, "when that's the only place you can read your comics in the dim hours you have better instincts for when to avoid people in there." Lincoln rubbed his chin and nodded his grin at her causing her to blush from the admiration. His eyes turned towards the light at the top of the room where rectangular shadows rested beyond its casing causing Lucy's blush to deepen. "Anyhow, I doubt you just came in here to get recommendations about Princess Pony..." she murmured, her voice becoming quieter as it got towards the end of the sentence so as to better keep the secrecy of the subject. Smiling his own blush, he rubbed his arm.

"Well I was just, ya know...stoppin' by to...check on ya?" he murmured back, "just...well okay. It's the final day. How's this all gonna go?" Lucy's head popped up from the reminder. She'd been so lost in her memories and deductions that the urgency had begun to slip her mind.

"Um, well...we...I was thinking we'd do a quick overview session and maybe see about getting some clothes for you when we get back. Shouldn't be too hard to get those," Lucy said, a finger on her mouth in thought.

"Oh way ahead of you there," Lincoln winked. Lucy looked at him curiously.

"Um...no offense Lincoln, but I don't think the orange shirt is gonna cut it..." she told him. Lincoln just laughed and put a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm not Leni Lucy. I know how to dress for this. Don't worry, I got it," he assured her. Lucy inched her face into a half-turn to diminish her view of his. The memories of her waking moments were still lingering in her head and his half-eye-lidded smirk was only coaxing them.

"And the poetry. Should probably have you come up with a few poems beforehand. Just-...just in case ya gotta interact with people more than I'd expect..." Lucy figured. She returned her gaze to Lincoln when she heard him clear his throat and he gave her a confident look.

"The paleness of the skin doth shine

In the darkness o' er divine

For in the land of graves and lour

Doth she seek thy final hour"

Though she was more prepared for the rhyming than she had been at Flip's the day before, Lucy still took a moment to fully register the sentences. Once she had, she whipped her face away and ran her hands along her mouth and the bridge of her nose, her thumbs and fingers cradling her flaming cheeks. He was not making the meeting an easy one. Lincoln however was quite pleased by the supposed reaction of flattery and grinned to himself.

"Okay...okay...may-maybe you're...FINE in that area..." Lucy murmured, her digits still massaging her features.

"The end of life

In the hours of strife-"

Lincoln's voice cut to a stop as Lucy's hand unexpectedly clamped over it. She could feel the corners of his mouth spread wider and curl under her grip from the view he had of what he could see of her light-pink face.

"Y-y-you're fine...for now..." she coughed taking her hand back and looking towards the ground, "Y-...you should...save what material you have for the event..."

"Oh don't worry, I just came up with that one right now," Lincoln laughed. Lucy's mouth opened a bit. He'd JUST thought that up? "Here, see? Oh girl of sorrow, frequenter of-"

"NO!" Lucy yelped causing Lincoln to jump. She clamped her teeth together nervously. "Yueii-I mean...y-you d-don't do this often...you can...run out of material faster than you think...just...JUST save it for the event for now. W-we can't afford to potentially waste the talent beforehand..."

"Huh...well, alright..." Lincoln shrugged. In her mind Lucy breathed a rather large sigh of relief. She didn't know why she had become so uncomfortable. They were just sentences. Artistic sentences...some...probably about her...but still...just sentences. Figuring Lucy just wasn't used to such attention, Lincoln turned his focus to one last curiosity. "And...the date?" he asked. Lucy's body stood on end from the word.

"The...what?" she murmured.

"You know...me...you...us...is there any way I should like act around you at the thing or-"

"We can cover that later!" Lucy stated flatly. THAT was an inquiry she did NOT need at the moment. Lincoln backed his head away as Lucy's came closer to his, her mouth a flat-line stretched from one end of her face to the other.

"-o-...okay..." he gulped, not sure if she was going to try to eat him or just stare him to death. Either way, the face did not show signs of encouraging his questions. "I...Imma...j-just gonna...get ready for school then..." Lincoln stuttered as he got off the bed and backed towards the door. Feeling a twinge of guilt, Lucy's face slumped into a more sympathetic form.

"...Lincoln wait," she said as he got to the door. Warily, the boy looked back at her. "I...I just have a lot to think about today is...is all. Sorry if I seem um...uh..." Realizing the apparent cause of her anxiousness, Lincoln's worry diminished and he smiled at her.

"Hey, it's fine," he told her, "I know how it is. Schemes can get ya a bit panicked sometimes. But don't worry. I'll be here with ya." Tilting her head a bit, Lucy felt a small smile on her lips. "You just make sure YOU are ready for tonight," Lincoln said. Lucy nodded.

"Same to you..." she replied. With a wink Lincoln ducked into the hall where Lucy heard him yelp in pain a few seconds later when she turned to Edwin to bring back out the picture she'd made of Lincoln. As he stumbled back to his room clutching his arm, she reached under her bed and pulled out a box. Within it rested other drawings that she'd done. One of her in a bridal gown that she hung up on the poster of Edwin next to her bed every so often, one of Rocky, some of her sisters or friends, and one of Silas. Carefully she laid Lincoln's down on top of the others and closed the box back up. She could cut it out later.

"...I am ready..." Lucy murmured to Edwin as Lynn walked in punching the palm of her hand happily, "...I am..."


The final day of the week. The day that all children waited for and elated within. Friday. The excitement and anticipation would build up each week to that long-sought moment when the final bell would ring and release the youth upon the world for a full two and a half days to indulge in their workings. Their plans. Their schemes. Their agendas. All of it broke free at that instant. It was akin to every other day's release from their educational prison except amplified to an untold degree. The sheer excitement of their internal jubilation could not be matched by much else in that fragment of time. Their desire to be unshackled and let loose into their scheduled free-time activities left little to compete with it.

For a young goth however, her own plans had seeped into her time at the school. Most of the morning had passed without issue, but, due to predetermined dealings, she found herself holed up in a more staff-used chamber that she'd been scheduled to use rather than a classroom for a majority of the time. Her visible eye forever half-closed, Haiku looked over a rather large piece of paper. Carefully she read through each letter on it checking for spelling mistakes and grammatical errors. Though it'd been checked by the rest of her peers in their after-school sessions, she felt she had better give it once last look-through. Once the words had been read, her view slid down to the image below decorating the parchment. Though the boy and girl portrayed on it likely were filled with insurmountable joy at their union, their placement in the emotionless community stilled their faces with delighted frowns. Haiku could feel her own lips twitch slightly at the picture.

Inwardly she sighed as she laid a large blank piece of paper down on the machine in front of her. Up above was the same image that she'd been looking at, but displayed in reverse on a raised material that'd been wettened with ink. With a stern grip, she grabbed the panel that it was attached to by a handle at its side and pulled it down. After a few seconds she lifted it back up and the panel left the paper that it'd been stamped onto with a suctiony noise. The smell of fresh-pressed ink in the air, she lifted the first of the reproductions up to look it over. Seeing little in the way of mishaps, she nodded and set it down next to the original picture they'd made the stamp from.

Even as she reached for the next paper to press however, she could feel the nagging absence of a certain flair to the image that she'd taken on the task of copying. While it was true that the poster "got the point across", she knew that if The Morticians Club had had the full "team" to work with that week that they'd have probably gotten an even better presentation for the piece. She didn't want to knock any of the other members' work, but they all knew that one of the youngest members held promise in more than just poetry. She may not have been an Advanced Placement student, but Lucy Loud could elicit some surprise with the doodles she could make sometimes. If that potential had been at their disposal to harness for the advertisements, there was no doubt in the taller girl's mind that the piece would have turned out that much better.

Lucy however had apparently been busy for the duration of the week. With what? She had no idea, but it must have been important to make her skip out on The Morticians Club. A schlocking noise sucked from the latest print as Haiku lifted the press back up. She couldn't blame the shorter girl of course. They all had their own lives to deal with. But with such an important event coming up it felt quite...odd to not have Lucy joining in on the near-guaranteed arrangements that would enrapture their group as it neared. Still, it's not like she wouldn't be seeing Lucy again, even if her own time on that current Friday was mostly being taken up by the tasks that The Morticians Club had decided on. She was sure she'd bump into the shorter girl sooner or later, be it that week or the following one.

Wordlessly she slid the next piece of paper onto the press and pulled the panel lathered in ink down.


As the day wound on, the children of Royal Woods Elementary School grew more and more expectant of that ever desired chiming. The noise that would mark the end of their school-week and the beginning of their own personal lives for the time they were allowed until they had to return. That's what Clyde thought about. That's what Girl Jordan thought about. That's what Lana thought about. That's what Lola thought about. That's...not what Lucy thought about. And in his mind, Lincoln also partially joined the black-haired sister's concerns, though he at least made room for the excitement of the freedom they were growing ever closer towards.

The day itself had been nothing unpleasant. Just a standard school-day as with most others. Hardly any complications, especially with how the teachers too looked forward to their own release. The fifth grade class had had one specific project, and a rather fun one at that. Creating their own comics. Given the amount of time they'd had they'd turned out relatively basic in design, though no one had to look at Clyde and Lincoln's to know what their's would be a tribute to. Zach's had been about aliens and Girl Jordan's about how awesome she was, much to the chagrin of anyone that'd ever been on the receiving end of her assaults in gym.

Lola had mostly spent the time amidst her lower-grade peers checking herself in her fold-up pocket mirror, making sure to touch up on any spots that required blush and powder anytime she found them. Normally her twin would be found trying to communicate with some insects or playing with her favorite frog that she occasionally snuck into the classroom, but on that day Lana had been a bit more...thoughtful. Ever since the night prior she'd been trying to cobble together solutions in her head, a process that was not her strong suit. But still, the nagging oddities of certain members of the household in the past week was too much to simply sit still with. The "pranks" of Lincoln, his defense by Clyde and Lucy, and Lincoln and Lucy in general. Her mind always seemed to fall back to them. There was just something...off about them. Lucy hanging out with anyone was an oddity in and of itself, but her company with Lincoln...it'd been unusually constant.

The Goth herself had coasted through the majority of her day in even deeper thought. Her's however was of a more anxious nature. It'd been filled with her wonderings of the future. More specifically the future of that very day. At first she couldn't bring herself to even properly formulate the ideas. The perceived effort had been too great. It was true that she and her accomplice had spent the entire week preparing, but now that they day had actually arrived, now that it was at her doorstep, the building suspense was almost too much too bear. As the day had drawn on Lucy had found it harder to breathe when she'd taken the time to attempt stabs at the issue. But there was no stopping the approach. That was the reminder that had finally got her mind going.

While her teacher droned on about whatever the lessons were that day, Lucy's consciousness had been hard at work going through the intricacies of her schemes. It wouldn't be too terribly long that they'd have after school to prepare, just a few hours. And they couldn't be too late either. Lucy had been sure to staple that notice into her head. No books. She had to remain focused. It might not cause a disaster to get there a smidge after it'd started, but every second counted with the importance of such an operation. Every moment another was possibly wasted in their efforts to obtain the person that she had been seeking for the past days.

It was in these thoughts that Lucy had again found herself doodling. She hadn't paid attention too hard, but her hands knew what they were crafting. Across the spare sheet of paper she'd procured, the graphite laid down images of figures. Just vague blocky shapes to imply the presence of a crowd, and within them a more defined image. A boy with a round head and blackened eyes. Oh how she'd longed for him. Above the mass of people she'd started on some lines for a poem, but became lost on the writing as her thinking progressed. Initially she'd contemplated dressing in a more eye-catching fashion. Perhaps something with skulls or batwings hanging from it, but it felt to be too much to her. That'd just show desperation. The pencil had nearly finished her own figure a few feet from where the round-headed boy stood in the drawing, a frown adorning her delighted face.

Poetry, clothing, even the way to approach her target had been a frazzled mess in her head. Glancing up at the unfinished poem again, a twinge of annoyance and jealously flashed through her. The final figure on the picture would have had no trouble. None at all. This was his forte. Plans. Lincoln would have had everything all figured out in a matter of minutes. It might not have been an orchestration that'd work, but he'd at least have something, AND he'd be confident in it. Lucy on the other hand? She felt like she was trying to swim in quicksand with her ideas, her body sinking in the overwhelming notions of failure. But Lincoln? He'd tackle the problem with a grin. Hell, he'd come up his own poems that morning without even trying! Lucy's hand wobbled from the pressure it had started to push on the pencil with.

Bringing the writing utensil to a stop before it bore a hole in the paper, Lucy took in a breath and steadied her nerves. With the hand more manageable now, it continued its course in the sketching of her brother. There was no reason for anger. Not towards him. Not when he sacrificed his time and effort to assist her. Not when he sacrificed all that he did for the rest of the family. No. Not towards him. He didn't deserve that. He never deserved that. Lucy's frown actually began to reverse as she doodled a half-lidded blank expression onto his face. She had no ill will towards him. It was just the worry taking hold. Her failing expectations towards herself. But as she drew the fingers of his hand that were closest to her, she felt those expectations become less suffocating. Tightly she intertwined his with her's.

The reason he was better at things was due to his age and experience. She would one day be at his level. At least she hoped. His expertise in poetry was a challenge to aspire to if nothing else, but it wasn't something to spite. He would be there for her. He always had been. She may have been questioning towards what he might have had in mind for clothing that night, but she trusted him, and she knew that she could always rely on him. Always. And if he wasn't capable enough, she'd be there to help him out as well. In the frequency of their outcasted nature from the rest, they always had each other. And they always would. Lucy had been rather unsure about her state in helping to get him ready once they got home, let alone herself, after the...affection she'd given him that morning.

She didn't know why it'd bothered her so much, but with how many hours had passed it'd become a distant memory in the presence of the imposing event. One that lit up her face still, but one that she could ignore enough to manage things. She just appreciated him, more than he could know. How he helped her. What he gave up for others. It was admirable. He could be selfish in his own ways, but who in the family wasn't? Well...maybe Leni, but Lucy had to question if she even counted as a person at times with how empty her head seemed to be. With Lincoln he had more of a brain and a more...relateable personality with how he could get annoyed by people ignoring his more sensible knowledge. She certainly knew that feeling. Plus, he wasn't afraid to venture out into the unknown, be it racing across town by horse or searching for ghosts in a graveyard. Lucy bit the inside of her lips as her pencil moved to the center of the picture. She could see why Ronnie Anne liked him.

And now with his help she was going to finally nab her own parnter. The boy with the round head. Her eyes drifted towards his image while her hand worked. Her heart fluttering, she sighed. What untold calamities laid within his unspoken soul? What unquenched desires of lust and unrequited companionship? Lucy's hand trembled as it etched a shape into the center of the piece between her side and the boy's. Looking to her's, she figured her feelings would morph into lonesomeness, but looking at the figure she'd drawn next to her they remained almost the same as when she'd viewed the boy. Smiling, she finished the heart in the center of the page. With Lincoln at her side he relieved even her devastating isolation.

She added a few drops of blood to the simplistic icon of love at the middle of the page before jerking her head up alongside everyone else in the room, the teacher included. It'd sounded. The loud chiming BRINGG! echoed through everyone's ears. And for a moment there was nothing. No movement. No sound. Not even the reverberations in the air. And then it was undone.


Wilbur Huggins walked the halls of the school. As the principal of the establishment it was his duty to ensure that everything was as it should be. Every student accounted for, every teacher in their positions of education, and every book on its shelf. Even the cafeteria's tater tots needed testing. Though he had had a few after their initial frying, he'd been sure to save a batch for later on, which he was now enjoying in his latest survey of the classrooms, the final round to make before the departure of his staff and their youthful charges. Once they were released unto the world all that would be left would be a few conversations with some of the remaining staff and then locking up the necessary doors to ensure the preservation of the school's equipment until the following week. Then he himself would be free to relax in his own abode and enjoy some well-deserved reading material. He couldn't wait to read the latest issue of Ace Savvy.

He was not the only one itching to get home however. In the distance he heard it. At first he had thought his ears were faltering. Perhaps there'd been some sort of odd frequency in the air or some such nonsense. But as the seconds wore on the foreboding noise only got louder and louder. Before too long it sounded as though it were rushing towards him through the halls, like a thundering distant avalanche. That was when he jumped and looked down at his watch. He hadn't even thought of how late it must have been. The tater tots had been so good that he'd completely ignored the final bell of the day, but sure enough the feared time flashed back at him and he felt the color drain from his face.

Had he been in his office or some classroom or even the janitor's closet it would have been just fine. But he was in the hall. No door to hide behind. No shield. Nothing. Completely vulnerable. Desperately he spun around looking for something, ANYTHING, to take shelter with. Even a locker. Despite his vain attempts though, he could hear them, and before long see them, charging as they rounded the bend at the end of the hall. With a gulp he braced for the tide of bodies and let out a cry as they knocked him off his feet in their race. Principal Huggins' mind became filled with flashes of memories from the previous times he'd been unfortunate enough to be caught in the current of youth. Once left to stumble back to his office with shoe-prints in the back of his coat, another crammed into a long-forgotten space between the art-room and computer-lab. This time he could only watch as his beloved tater tots were scattered into the air beyond him and his body was carried away by the rushing children that had flowed beneath him.

The tater tots did not go unclaimed though. With a jump, a white-haired boy snatched some from their fall and continued on in the clamor to escape the confines of their children's weekly prison. Popping one into his mouth, he pushed his way past Liam.

"Go Lincoln! You're farther ahead than you've been for the last month!" Clyde cheered from further back, he himself having been dragged down by a few of their lagging peers. Popping a tater tot into his mouth, Lincoln climbed over Chandler and hit the ground in front of him running, curses on the other boy's tongue. Salt and starch filled Lincoln's mouth as he came up on a girl and tried to shove past her only to receive a bump back. His food almost got caught in his throat when he realized who his competition was. Shooting a disgruntled face back at her, Lincoln mustered up a surge of force and pushed as hard as he could against Girl Jordan, her own body refusing the budge. He wouldn't be able to hold out against her for long.

But her attention was fixed on him, and looking ahead he could see what she was ignoring. If her eyes stayed on him it would only be a matter of seconds before she was no longer an issue. Looking back at her, his scowl turned into a grin. Girl Jordan's own one turned to that of confusion before she realized why one would be so confident in the situation and turned her head frontwards. For her though it'd been a fraction too late as Lincoln no longer needed to push by the time she did so. Breaking off just as they got to the open locker in front of them, Lincoln raced onwards leaving her to slam straight into the door of the childhood storage space and stumble back into an irrecoverable position.

"Fuck you too!" he heard her holler over the crowd widening his grin. With a swallow of the tater tot he'd been chewing, Lincoln rounded the final corner. His eyes widened. In the distance it shone at him. The exit. The passage into sheer incomprehensible freedom. The gateway to the weekend. And he was so far ahead of his entire class! But not ahead of all the others. Looking to either side, Lincoln saw the floods of other grades converging into the central hall to the exit, and at their own leads were familiar faces. Now the real battle began. Despite his lead on the rest of his age-group, the other Louds seemed to have gotten just as lucky as him that day. He was able to charge ahead for a moment as Lola and Lana attempted to push him to the side, but that only put him between them as his legs slowed back down after the burst of speed. They grinned in their attempt to disorientate him by smashing him between their bodies.

Lincoln would not have lasted too long in that pressure, but to his fortune help came. Lola spun out of control and went careening off the wall she hit back into the crowd from the elbow of an older girl that'd entered the fray. Lincoln grinned for a moment before he too was met with an attempted strike which brought his mind back into the situation. Dodging the next pale fist that struck, Lincoln made his own swipe at Lucy who ducked as she ran. For what could have only been two seconds, the two older Louds battled their way to the doors until the remaining blond girl leapt onto their heads and began hitting their skulls together beneath her. Lincoln and Lucy could feel their eyes swirling in their sockets and, in an unspoken alliance, sent their fists sailing up into Lana's stomach which knocked her back into the tidal wave behind them.

Their pursuers dealt with, the brother and sister were free to continue their duel even out into the parking-lot. Lincoln however had one key advantage. His legs. Due to their length, he was able to ultimately cover enough ground so that Lucy's jabs and kicks weren't even a problem anymore and he hopped into the bus ahead to claim his victory.

"Oh yeah! Uh huh! Lincoln rules! Loud one!...other...Louds zero!" he sang to himself as he danced in place next to the driver's seat of the vehicle. It didn't take long for the rest of the school to catch up though and he realized the misplacement of his victory dance as they quickly congregated into the door of the transport, the second-place champion right at the front ready to "greet" him. Clenching his teeth, Lincoln put his arms out in front of him to brace for whatever assault was to come, but instead he felt something pull him. As Lucy rushed in, she grabbed the hands and guided the boy into the corridor between the seats of the bus. For a few spins they twirled in place, Lincoln surprised to see the happy expression on the loser's face, before they slowed into a break from the spirals and bounced towards one of the farther seats. The air hissed out of the cushions as they plopped down and slumped into an exhausted rest against each other, their breath ragged.

For a few minutes they just sat there as the other children that lived near their street filed into the bus. Their elbows slouched into each other's sides as their chests lifted and fell. It had been quite the battle for the position of victory and it'd left them pretty worn. Though Lincoln payed little heed to the movement in his recovering state, Lucy collected up some of the strength she'd gotten back and pressed her face more into his lower neck to have a place to rest it better. The pair sprouted bemused expressions as the two younger blond-haired Louds passed their seats. Scowling and in tatters, Lola shot her middle finger at them, an action that her twin joined her in, though her look was more suspicious towards the two older ones. Lana felt a light shudder crawl across her skin as Lucy and Lincoln grinned back at the them.

"I...gotta hand it...to ya...I really was staring to...to worry about getting here first..." Lincoln told Lucy between breaths once Lana and Lola had disappeared to their own seats. He felt a sound of recognition vibrate from her throat which spread a bit of warmth across his face. He hadn't realized the positioning of her head until she'd made the noise. Not that there was much he could do to change the placement in his drained state. And her head did give a bit of a comforting warmth that he'd honestly have reluctance in rebuking.

"Don't sell yourself short..." she told him, "that was some dance we were doin'. You might actually have what it takes to hunt vampires..." Lincoln chuckled as Lucy playfully nipped at him.

"Yeah, but I don't think I'm taking YOU down once you become one," he laughed, "I mean did you see Lola? You just came out and decked her into last week back there!" Even Lucy had to contribute her stale laughs to that. Their sounds of delight gave way to their returning strength and as the wheels of the bus creaked to life, they found their limbs capable of rearranging their positions. Lincoln mostly just sat more upright than he had prior while Lucy brought her legs up onto the seat and wrapped her arms around them. Lincoln looked to her as her head fell against his shoulder and he smiled as he ruffled her hair.

"You seem a bit more welcoming than earlier," he said quietly. Lucy rubbed her head deeper against his shoulder.

"Like I said, had...things on my mind...sorry about all that..." she apologized.

"Hey, it's fine," he told her. She smiled as the smell of his shirt tickled her nose. "You ready for tonight then ya think?"

"Yes..." she said confidently, almost sounding as if she were trying to convince herself, "I...I am." Her eyes locked with his as she looked up. "Boyfriend..."

"I am too," he replied putting his face towards her's, "Girlfriend." The two shared a grin. For Lincoln it was a few seconds. For Lucy it felt like forever that he wouldn't take his face away. When he finally did she was free to drop her's towards the seat again in her lean against him, her cheeks immediately filling with crimson.


"Like O M G, are you totes ready for tonight?" an excited voice could be heard from the hall.

"Like, totes," another, similarly aged voice replied, "I've already got the "blood" made and have the makeup ready!"

"Oh I can't wait! Tristan's like totally gonna ask that girl in the village out!" Leni sang as she twirled into view from the doorway.

"That or he's gonna bite her," Lori said joining her at the top of the stairs. Dreamily she sighed and clasped her hands together. "What a lucky girl..."

"Bite her? Why would he do that?" Leni asked.

"What do you mean why would he-" Lori began to question before blinking a few times and shaking her head. In a mix of an apology and sympathy, she patted her sister's head and started down the steps. Completely forgetting the question she had in light of the apparent affection she'd received, Leni skipped down after her leaving the view from the door as vacant, not that its occupant was all that interested to see what lay beyond it or hear the two's insipid conversation about whatever meaningless drivel they were going to watch on TV that night. A few sparks shot off from the solder that the young girl within was operating with. Once the appropriate wiring had been welded from the heat, Lisa lifted the safety goggles onto her forehead and inspected the burns closer.

"Ga ga?" the room's other occupant quipped. Taking a sniff of the burns, Lisa shook her head.

"No no Lily, it's not done yet," Lisa murmured as she dove the soldering equipment back into the wiring. A few more sparks shot off from the target. "But not to fear, this new and improved model will be finished before too much longer...and will have much less to handle for its trial run. That's the last time I let everyone in the house use such an untested subject..." After finishing another of the solders, Lisa picked up the unit she was working on and looked it over in her hands. She peered at a few areas more keenly than others. "Still...I never would have imagined Lincoln would have been able to damage the previous one so much. Lynn MAYBE. But him? Dear lord what he must have gone through..."

"Poo poo!" Lily added. Looking to the side, Lisa could see the infant glaring at the corner of the room where the ruined remains of the Assistant-Bot 2600 lay, her arms folded over her chest. Lisa had been rather intrigued by her distaste towards the invention once it'd been relocated back to their room following the incident. True it had terrorized the household, but the baby seemed to hold significant resentment towards the machine. But while the reaction did hold fascination, Lisa wasn't that concerned about the negativity. The next model would be far superior to the previous menace. She could tell that simply by looking over the more appropriate placement of the chips on the motherboard she had laying at the side of the table.

Lily looked towards the door upon the sounding of the front door opening. Lisa didn't need to turn her head to learn of the arrival of the younger half of her siblings from their time at school. While normally she'd have been spending her time within that building herself, she'd been able to request some time off to work on repairs for the disaster that had been her Assistant-Bot by explaining about the damages that had been done which had earned her some sympathy from Ms. Shrinivas. Her only regret was that she wouldn't get to spend time experiencing the brief instances of "fun" that she had found out about with Darcy.

"Sorry bud..." Lisa sighed as she put the device she'd been examining down, "Promise I'll bring a whole slew of vocabularily complex words for ya to laugh at next week." While the door creaks and slams hadn't diverted the young scientist from her work, a soon-after visual did inch her head away from it. Spotting a blur of white and orange from out of the corner of her eye, Lisa cocked her head to the side and saw Lily clapping gleefully at the image she'd missed. To her surprise she saw a rather opposite figure to the previous colors standing outside their door who was looking at Lincoln's open one. Before too long he popped back into the hall and, noticing Lily's excitement, waved to the baby before their black-haired sister grabbed his hand and skipped off with him. Lisa lifted a brow and popped her head out to see the two disappear into the goth's dwelling, her door promptly shutting afterwards.

"Hm...curious..." Lisa murmured as she slunk back into her own room and folded her arms over her chest, her head downturned in thought. Lily stared at the room with a blank smile while her sister pittered across it towards her desk. "Lucy seems to still desire Lincoln's company...very odd indeed. I had assumed that it would have just been a brief interruption in her schooling, but she seems to require the interaction even after a whole week...if this continues it may present a problem for her after-school studying next time as well..." Trying to fix together a solution in her head, Lisa stroked her chin. "...just why is she so...focused on Lincoln?..."

"Goo gee ga," Lily blurted. Lisa glanced at her and rolled her eyes.

"I highly doubt it has anything to do with that," she murmured, "But...what? What has he done in the past week or so that's drawn so much attention to him from her? All I can think of is him wrecking the robot and that was after she wanted him initially. Whatever transpired, I assume, might have amplified some attachments in private but-"

"Gaga go geega?" the baby said.

"Oh please, anyone with a brain could figure out it wasn't Lincoln that pulled those shenanigans," Lisa scoffed. Lily just blinked obliviously while her eyes darted around the room. "No...those "pranks" were clearly nothing of consequence towards their interactions...but...hm..." Lisa continued to ponder as she wandered over to a collection of beakers, her face reflecting into various shapes from their distortions. "...It...it's of no issue at the moment..." she reasoned, "Besides...maybe the continued interaction will be beneficial. Could release the distractions for when her tutoring takes place. And heaven knows that girl needs to cheer up. Having someone to hang around may provide that. No...these circumstances are adequate for now. As for me, I have work to do." Lily dropped into her crib and continued her default adorableness as the sparks started their flickers again.


Lincoln's tongue stuck out over his upper lip in concentration. He had half expected the request, but he was just getting settled into his relaxed sit on the bed when Lucy had gotten the makeup supplies. It hadn't been anything he wasn't prepared for though.

"Sigh. One of these days I'm gonna get it myself," the girl muttered.

"Hey no-" Lincoln began to reply, but stopped and, after another thought-filled stroke of the brush against her nail, dropped his voice to a more melancholy tone alongside his eyelids, "Hey, no problem...it's not like I'm not used to the brushing. Each layer bringing us one step closer to our inevitable end." Lucy put a hand to her cheek and smiled at him.

"Oh, you're just saying that," she would have cooed if her voice allowed for such a noise.

"No. I'm serious. Every time the brush moves another second wears by. Another moment of our deterioration passes. Eventually it will be at a halt, and then so shall we," Lincoln responded, not breaking from his dulled persona. Lucy's lips were curling rather intensely at their ends while a light blush ran across the bottom of her hair.

"Sigh. Your tone is decent. A bit too happy here and there, but overall it's getting the job done. And the wording...so romantic..." she mused. Now it was Lincoln's turn to blush which swiftly did away with his empty facade. With a cough he returned to his application while Lucy continued to watch him. She found her head bobbing up and down each time his dipped to get a closer look at his handiwork. She did notice him glance up once, but only for a moment, before his eyes darted straight back to the hand he held in his, his cheeks reigniting a bit from the brief eye-contact.

"So! W-we got the personalities. W-we got the, uh makeup. Anything else?, " he asked hurriedly.

"What?" Lucy asked, having not heard a thing he'd said in the trance the motions of his head had her in. While the incredulous reaction may have given Lincoln some disbelieving ire, it at least distilled some of the awkwardness he'd brought on himself.

"The Poetry thingy. We need anything else for it?" Lincoln repeated.

"Uhhh..." Lucy drolled, still fixating on the bounce of his head as he talked, "Oh! Um-well...clothes." Lincoln eyed her body.

"Um...you're already wearing different sleeves," Lincoln told her, "A few more stripes than normal." Lucy did her best to keep her paleness. She hadn't expected him to notice such a detail. She just felt that for such an occasion, at least a modicum of uniqueness was deserved.

"I was more speaking of...YOUR clothing choice," she corrected herself. Her nails finally done, Lincoln sat up straight and looked down at himself before shaking his head.

"What'd I tell ya? Don't worry about it," he laughed. Now Lucy shook her head.

"There isn't much longer," she reminded.

"I know," he told her with confidence. Lucy gave him a suspicious eye, but allowed the assurance to pass.

"Alright..." she murmured, unsure of the claim. They didn't have time to dawdle though. "How's about poems?"

"Young Girl of Darkness

This night, it does call to you.

Come now, take my hand."

Compelled by the words, Lucy, to Lincoln's surprise, lifted her hand in front of her to where he'd outstretched his during his reciting. Both of them felt a warmness flow up their bodies from the contact and delicately Lucy wrapped her free hand around the one that now held her other. Lincoln gulped and felt her eyes, alongside his, drift down to their link. For a pause they were silent and enjoyed each other's comfort.

"I'd say we've got everything figured out then..." Lincoln whispered. Lucy nodded, more to reply than to actually think through what he was saying. "That just leaves one last question then."

"Hm?"

"The one from this morning..." he reiterated. Lucy looked up curiously. "Is there anything...I should do while we're there," he asked. Lucy felt the grip tighten a bit. "As your...boyfriend..." Her own grip bit back at his.

"Yes...you...hold my hand while we're there..." she told him.

"Hold your hand?" he repeated. His eyes dropped to their's painting both of their faces with small smiles. "Well...I think we have that down..."

"Yeah...I guess we do..." Lucy agreed, unable to hold back a blush. The two hadn't realized they'd been leaning forward until their foreheads touched each other. They could feel the breath from each other on their lips, the continued slow pressing of Lucy's head going unnoticed by them. Its lean forward shifted into a tilt as Lincoln's other hand came up and cupped her cheek in its grasp, his thumb brushing some of the locks of her hair to the side in the process.

"I...should probably take care of this clothing problem then..." he said. He felt her nod in his grip. Lincoln took his limbs back to leave, but felt some resistance. It only took a tug for Lucy's own hands to reciprocate and loosen from their daze. As Lincoln hopped to his feet, she brought her arms back to herself and sunk them into her lap. Lincoln was about to head into the hall but stopped at the door and eyed the container he'd put the nail polish in. Lucy was a bit confused as to why he found interest enough in it to return to the bedside. "This got eyeliner in it?" he asked. Though confused, Lucy nodded. "...mind if I borrow some?"

"Use all that you need," she told him, her mouth acting on its own. Grabbing the case of makeup, he dashed out the door and headed towards his room. For a minute or so Lucy stayed a statue on her bed, her mind constantly trying to reboot into a usable state. She wasn't sure why she'd become so still in the aftermath of her and Lincoln's conversation, but the setting sun from the window was what ultimately forced her body into action. As feeling returned to her torso and limbs, she felt a vicious shudder vibrate across her skin and a deep intake of air was pulled in through her nostrils before exiting from her mouth in a gust.

"Sigh...sigh...SIGH..." Lucy repeated over and over to try and get her brain working in more normal patterns. After a few more breaths, she shook her head and crawled over to the side of the bed where she pulled out a box. Opening it revealed the picture she'd drawn of Lincoln the day prior. She removed it along with a pair of scissors and began to cut along the lines of the vampiric figure. Why was she so nervous? Everything was going to be just fine. He was there with her. Everything always turned out fine when he was looking out for her. The Princess Pony secret that he covered for, the winning-over of Rocky when the rest of their siblings nearly shattered those hopes, and now his assistance in acquiring her long-sought date for the upcoming gothic Ball.

She couldn't help but smile as the paper tore under the pressure of each snip of the scissors. If nothing else the redundant action helped to ease her nerves. And the image she stared at wasn't unwelcoming either. Lucy could feel some air tickle her nose on the way out as she gazed into the soulless expression she'd drawn on her brother. It was going to be alright. With a few more snips the excess paper fell away leaving her holding Lincoln's body. Snugly she hugged the image to herself. She truly hoped he did not take her requests for granted, that it was just some childish greed to her own ends. No...there was a reason she had chosen him. She knew he was the one she could rely on. And she hoped beyond hope that she might one day be able to make it up to him for all that he sacrificed, however impossible that notion might have been. To let him know how much it all meant to her...how much he meant to her...

"Sigh..." Lucy said as she looked down into the box and took out another picture, this one an image of herself with a drawn-on wedding dress that she occasionally hung up on Edwin's poster next to her bed. Looking to it, she got out the tape and stuck the image onto the undead character's left. A bit more hesitantly she eyed the one she'd just cut out of Lincoln and did the same, this time plastering it onto his right. Lucy looked between the two images a few times until her eyes focused enough on the middle that Edwin's much large visage became the focus. "Oh Edwin...please...let this night go well...all these preparations...all that Lincoln's done...please...PLEASE...just let us pull this off-"

"Who are you talkin' to?" a male voice sounded from the door. In a flash Lucy somehow both spun around and made the box of pictures vanish beneath her bed.

"No one!" she replied, "J-just practicing some poetry before we...go..." Lucy's jaw never came up after the final word. It just hung there in a state of shock. Standing before her in the doorway was a boy, but one that she hardly recognized. And one that she would have believed to have been sent by Edwin himself. His arms folded and one leg slung over the other as he leaned against the frame, Lincoln smirked. In place of his usual orange shirt and blue pants was nothing but black. Lucy recognized the shirt, boots, and pants all from one of the various days a that he had tried to do something different so he wouldn't come off as boring a while back, but now he had not had the time to dye the hair black to match. Even without it though, the whiteness at the top only served to make the image pop in contrast.

"Figured black would be best for the eyeliner this time," he said pointing out the lack of pale-purple from his last use of the outfit as he walked over. Lucy was still trying to take in just what she was looking at. Taking another scan over him she could make out some included ear-rings. Lincoln's expression grew concerned as more and more seconds passed without a response from the seemingly life-less girl. Then a thought clicked in his mind and he rolled his eyes. Maybe with that type of a getup he was expected to go the full mile. "Sigh. Shall we depart?" he asked emotionlessly. Thankfully, instead of shorting-out her brain, the unexpected voice snapped Lucy back to reality.

"But...of...course..." she replied, forcing the quivering words from her mouth. To her fortune the slowness of the sentence went unnoticed by her brother. Either that or he was trying really hard to stay in character. Regardless, Lucy had regained enough of her senses to land her feet on the ground and dust her dress off. Then she noticed Lincoln's outstretched hand, his face still looking as bored as her's. "Oh um...we're not there yet. You don't have to-" Lucy felt her voice leave as the hand took her's in his. Fearing the blood would come pouring out of her cheeks, Lucy tilted her head downwards. She felt her legs crystallizing and her insides becoming like jello from the intertwining of the coffin-fit boy's fingers. But she could not afford to freeze up. Not while she was supposed to be standing, and certainly not when they had to get going. Using all of her willpower, Lucy pumped air through her nose until she could feel her non-existent pulse flowing through her body once more.

"We should probably be quick," Lincoln told her. Though Lucy's head felt like it was spinning, her forced alertness allowed her to pay attention. "The twins and Lisa are in their rooms and Lynn shouldn't be back from practice for about another fifteen minutes. If we wait too long someone might see us, or more importantly, ME like this, and-well..."

"Y-yeah..." Lucy nodded, "Don't need any more...distractions..." She may have never moved from that spot had Lincoln not pulled. Quickly he led her into the hall where she continued to plod along behind him.

"So, where exactly is this place gonna-"

"Who are...wait-Lincoln?" a younger voice cut him off. The boy felt his limbs joining Lucy's resistance to move as they skidded to a halt at the top of the steps. Looking directly at them was Lana. A barely noticeable trail of puddles led from her shoes to the bathroom and also dripped from the plunger she held. Apparently Lincoln had miscalculated where she'd been before he'd reentered Lucy's domain. Upon realizing who she was looking at, Lana noticed his companion and narrowed her eyes at the pair. Both of the older Louds gulped. "...okay...what are you two doing?..." she muttered. For her mounting suspicions throughout the week, the odd display only furthered her accusing stare.

"They're just practicing for their act!" All three heads heightened as Luan miraculously popped out from behind Lucy and Lincoln. Lincoln returned a thankful grin to her, and while Lucy was less willing to, she did the same. Lana's indicting stare hardly faltered though.

"Act?..." she asked in a disbelieving manner. Luan wiggled her eyebrows at the brother and sister she was vouching for.

"Of course!" Luan exclaimed twirling out in front of them, "Yeah, Lincoln might have caused the whole robot thingy, but it was probably just pressure from some routines they've been helping me with to try and breathe some more life into Funny Business Inc.." Lana cocked a brow.

"Yeah...the robot..." Lana almost spat, her hands moving to her hips as her narrowing eyes now fixated on Luan. If she weren't so used to negative attention she might have been starting to sweat from the expression. "So...what's their act?..." Lincoln and Lucy's mouths shrunk as they grimaced at each other.

"Oh-uh-well it's uh, deadpan jokes of course!" Luan thought up and jabbed her elbow at Lincoln, "subverting the atmosphere and all that".

"Oh um-...yes, of course..." he nodded, morphing his voice into a more emotionless tone after the first couple of words. Lana visibly took an unnerved step back from the sudden change. "Hey Lucy...why did the chicken cross the road?..."

"What?" the black-haired girl asked. A quick look at him and her older sister's faces knocked some sense into her and she turned to face Lana. "Oh...um...I don't know. Why did it?"

"Because it had a death-wish," Lincoln answered, his voice almost a male version of Lucy's. Lincoln and Luan threw their hands out for applause while Lana viciously shook her head from the overwhelming change in demeanor that the scene had taken. But Lincoln and Luan's expressions soon started to lean towards her own. What started out as a confused frown of contemplation soon curled into a delighted smile on Lucy's face.

"Ha ha. Ha ha...HA HA...HA...ha...ha...ha ha..." she suddenly began to repeat. Though her voice stayed the same range, it got noticeably louder towards the middle before petering out leaving the girl to hang her head in embarrassment. While Lincoln and Luan had maintained enough composure to force their act's preservation, Lana had become rather disturbed by the sudden bout of enjoyment Lucy had displayed. Coupled with Lincoln's participation, it was too much. Her suspicions remained for the trio, but she had no choice other than to concede to the facade.

"Yugh!" she grunted as she reached for the doorknob to her room, "Fine whatever! Just...NEVER do that again!" Giving one last glare at the three, she slowly slid into her room and the door shut with a click. Simultaneously the older brother and sister let out a sigh while Lucy stated her own with a word. Lincoln smiled up at Luan who winked at him. Lucy's face remained unreadable to the older girl, but Luan smiled all the same to her. After a second of staring at Luan, Lucy just nodded and started down the steps, preferring to take the lead in case any other obstacles might catch a glimpse of them. She preferred that they spotted the one who was supposed to be wrapped in darker colors before they noticed her partner. As she neared the middle of the steps the sounds of the television gave warning to their upcoming interference and she mentally kicked herself for not having remembered to take the familiar show into account.

"Lucy!" a happy voice blurted out as her body became visible to the two that resided on the couch.

"Sigh..." she said quietly and motioned for Lincoln to stop.

"Hey Lucy!" Lori joined in and raised a glass of red liquid towards her, "Come on! Why didn't ya get the coffins ready? VOM's about to start!"

"Yeah, but don't worry. We don't need the coffins if it's too much trouble. We're like totes comfortable on the couch tonight!" Leni assured her. Hesitantly Lucy darted her head around to look for some way to get past the eldest siblings without their stares. Luan had already disappeared from view and all Lincoln gave her to work with was a bitten lower lip. With no assistance at her disposal, Lucy decided on the only viable option. The truth.

"Sigh, I...can't," she told them. Leni and Lori looked at each other.

"Aw, but why not? Tristan might bite that girl in the village tonight for some reason!" Leni whined.

"For some reason-?" Lucy grumbled to herself and shook her head. How, after everything they'd watch and everything that she'd made the two older sisters do to prepare for the show, was the blond still so clueless about what the material they watched could be about? Glancing at Lincoln, she could tell that he too was waiting for her answer. "Because..." Lucy said, "Tonight's Goth Mic Night and I have to get going. It's an important one so I won't be joining you." Leni's face sulked.

"Aw...but you'll miss-"

"Relax Leni, she can catch the rerun next Thursday," Lori reminded her. Leni's face brightened up once more. Sometimes it could be as easy to get her to smile as it was for Lily. Lucy was just glad to receive aide where she could get it in their mission.

"Yes, I will most gratefully watch it then," Lucy nodded. As the commercials played the two sisters continued to look at her and she at them. A few times Lori looked at Leni, though she just had her stare obliviously fixated on the curiously unmoving younger girl on the steps.

"...okay..." Lori coughed and jerked her head to the door a few times, "So um..."

"So um...yes..." Lucy said. Lincoln slapped his forehead. It was a good thing Luan had come along when she had previously, since they themselves did not seem to have much specialty with the whole "distraction" bit in their current agenda. Unfortunately the same luck would not befall them a second time it seemed, and Lucy didn't seem to be capable under such focus to be able to make up a proper scheme. At least she didn't until she remembered the character that Leni had mentioned. A character that both she and Lori had initially started watching the show for.

"Hey, is that Blake Bradley?" Lucy suddenly blurted, almost causing Lincoln to jump. For Lori and Leni however the words had a much more severe effect and the two instantly snapped their heads to the T.V. screen, wide smiles plastered on their faces. It didn't take long for the effect to where thin however with the actor's image not staring back at them, but in that time Lucy made her move. Not even giving Lincoln time to think, she gripped his hand and dragged him down the steps. The older girls only caught a brief glimpse of the two out of the corner of their eyes before they were out the door.

"W-wait, was that...Lincoln?..." Lori asked as she tried to process what she'd just seen. She could excuse the odd behavior. It was Lucy after all. Nobody knew what to expect from the dark loner. But she was sure that the person she'd seen behind her had been none other than their brother. And it may have been the dimness of the room and the odd effects of the illumination from the television's light, but she could could have sworn that he'd been wearing black and looked more...lifeless than normal. It was hard to tell in the darkness that they had doused the room in for their weekly viewing of the show, but her eyes were doing their best to insist on the oddity.

"It was?" Leni gasped, "I thought it was a vampire!" The two exchanged unsure glances until the intro to the show started which dashed any trace of inquiry from the younger of the two blonds. Lori however found it a bit harder to keep her confused eyes from trailing towards the door.


The setting sun blanketed the streets in a veil of encompassing shadows. As the hours wore on more and more businesses shut out their lights adding to the corridors of luminous darkness that veined their way through the town. And in the midst of that ethereal twilight hour darkened figures emerged from their homes. Within their own neighborhoods they were met mostly with solitude, but the further they ventured towards their destination the more they found company in those like themselves until eventually entire groups of them were sifting through alleys and parking-lots in their pilgrimage. Not all embraced the darkness, but enough of the poets shared interests with the subject that a good majority draped themselves in shadowy clothing.

Like mobs possessed, they journeyed across the emptying sidewalks of the nearing dusk, their attention paying no mind to the few that remained on them. Many knew any view they'd receive from passerbys would just be that of worry or contempt from those that didn't understand them, and that never would. And most did not have any care for what the thoughts were towards them with how far they'd removed themselves from society already. Those around them that were "normal" were no more than scenery for most. While it was true that there were those among them that merely enjoyed the succulent wordings of the calculated sentences that the gatherings revolved around, it was not the more light-hearted crowd that a newcomer found themselves within.

No, Lincoln Loud had fitted himself into a certain role, and that was what he found himself becoming surrounded in the nearer that they got. At first it'd just been them. Him and Lucy walking together through the streets beyond their's after they'd slowed out of their run from the house. For minutes they traveled in silence, neither knowing just quite what to say. Their brushes with fate had been quite nerve-wracking in their exit, and even without that, it's not like they hadn't already gone over the requirements for the night. For Lucy however, she was finding it hard to talk regardless of how much or how little of a need to talk there was. It'd gotten easier for her throat to attempt proper communication the longer she was exposed to the dreary figure at her side, but each time she glimpsed a peek at him she felt her vocal chords tighten up again.

Lincoln had just assumed she hadn't wanted to talk. She was her after all, and he was not at all a stranger to her long spells of silence and reflection. That and Lucy simply didn't feel the need to fill empty space with words when they weren't necessary many times. But that was not the case in that instance. Not in the slightest. She wanted to talk. To him. She wanted nothing more than to sit down on her bed and talk. Sonnets. Haikus. Even Limericks. Maybe some free-verse. A poem or two composed together, bits and pieces from each of them. It didn't even have to be poems. Perhaps they could converse about the absurdity of their sisters or the upcoming issues of the books they frequented. She could just lay there, talking with him. Joking. Rhyming.

No, she wanted to talk. Daring another look at him however proved detrimental towards the prospect. Darting her face forward again, her breathing increased in frequency. Yes, she would love to talk with the boy. But that face. That look. That sheer and utter enrapture of darkness that he bore made that nearly impossible. And yet...she would love nothing more than to just...spend time with such a figure. And one that understood her so well. Yes, the rest of the world may not have garnered a notion of what she truly was like, but she knew, in the back of her mind, that there was one that might. And he walked right beside her. Why had it become such an issue then? For the moment any thoughts of free-time frolicking should have been secondary. No matter what Lucy desired of her...partner, they had a mission. One that they had been working towards the entire week, and that obviously took precedence over whatever trivial shenanigans one of them might wish to enjoy.

About the time that they'd gotten within a mile of the establishment they'd been making their way towards, the older of the two noticed the forming crowds of like-dressed youths that they'd been passing from time to time. Though he retained his grimmer-than-usual face, he remembered one of the other requirements and felt that the dark-clad kids had become present enough to put it into effect. Lucy jerked to a stop and bent her head downwards as Lincoln's hand slid into her's. Lincoln blinked at her in confusion, but the curiosity only lasted for a few seconds before her feet started back up and she rejoined her brother in their stroll, though with her head still looking towards the ground. Thinking the action was simply a more amplified display of misery or sorrow, Lincoln tilted his head similarly but kept his focus forward, occasionally darting his eyes left and right to catch glimpses of other goths in order to make sure that they weren't drawing too much attention to themselves.

The raven-haired girl meanwhile was deliberating on more personal matters. Why did her mind keep refusing to stay on track? She NEEDED to think about where they were headed. She NEEDED to stop daydreaming. And when she focused she could. But that grab of the hand. That brush of the skin. It rippled her thoughts with vibrations of Lincoln. It was so easy to get lost in the fantasies. What they COULD be doing as opposed to what they NEEDED to be doing. Was that it? Did she not want to have to put forth the effort and face the fear of possible failure? Of possible embarrassment? Did she instead just want to spend her time dilly-dallying with Lincoln instead of venturing through the mounting tension? That...that must have been it. But it needed to be done. It's what they'd been building up to.

Lucy was ready to begin anew with her mental recitals of what she might say to the boy that she sought when she felt another soft squeeze at her hand. Her body threatened to stop once more, but only her mouth felt the effects of the flip-flop her stomach did. Her lips trembled with a sick nervousness. She wish Lincoln would stop what he was doing. He had no idea what it was doing to her. Hell, she wasn't sure she had any idea either, but she knew that whatever it was was making the feared confrontation they progressed towards only that much harder to prepare for.

Lincoln didn't tighten his hold without cause however. He'd felt it from a mile or so back, and he could now begin to understand what the change in atmosphere was. Some sort of...smell. He wasn't sure at first, but as he noticed the building they were walking towards appear on the horizon, a few whiffs floated through his nostrils and continued to magnify the closer they got, until entire streams of the odor were sifting through his cranium. Now he took his own halt. Unsure as to why they stopped, Lucy perked her head up and looked back at him. Catching sight of the boy's face she felt her own beat with an intense flash and bit her lips to dampen the light-bulb it had become. Thankfully Lincoln had been too busy tending to his nose to notice the fading coloring.

"Yah! What is that?" he grumbled as he tried to wiggle his nostrils. Taking in a breath, Lucy realized what he was talking about.

"Ah, incense. Such a fine setting for the serenity of the coming evening," Lucy declared. Lincoln coughed and hacked for a second as his attempts to stifle the scent had only gotten it lodged further into his lungs. "So magical..."

"It smells like one of those candles ya buy at the dollar store...only like...WAY bigger..." he murmured through his recovering wheeze. As Lincoln's hacks slowed and his breathing returned to normal, Lucy noticed a smear below his eye. His efforts to regain his breathing had mismatched some of the makeup he'd applied.

"Hey-what are-"

"Hold still," she said putting a hand up to his cheek to steady his face. Unpocketing a thin container, she pulled out a utensil that was blackened at the end and started to fix up the eyeliner. It took a bit, but Lincoln eventually realized what he must have done in his coughing fit and resigned himself to the assistance. After around five strokes, Lucy tilted her head to look over the socket and then licked her finger and smudged it up against the mess he'd made causing his cheeks to pinken. After a few more brushes, she clacked the eyeliner back into its container with a snap and tossed it back into her pocket. Looking the face over for any more mishaps a few times, Lucy smiled and nodded.

"Sigh...you're so handsome...You have no idea..." she complimented. It took her a moment to realize what she had said, but when she did she forced the confident smile to remain unfaltering on her face no matter what her coloring became.

"Yeah, I suppose I don't," Lincoln shrugged half-hearedly. It wasn't until Lincoln rubbed the back of his head nervously that Lucy chanced spinning back around to drop her strained expression. Putting a hand to her chest, she took in a deep breath and blew it out of her nose. That seemed to get her senses back into a more orderly manner. Lincoln meanwhile looked around. Spotting a few more members of the community than he'd have liked looking at them, he dropped his eyelids halfway and slumped his shoulders. Though some kept their gaze, the misery-filled posture did away with most of the eyes.

Satisfied with the results, Lincoln stuck out his hand towards the side of the girl in front of him. Lucy immediately noticed the appendage but, even if it was just a hesitant fraction of a second, she gulped and drew in another sharp breath. She was ready. Wasn't she? Determined to see the quest through to the end, she slid her hand into Lincoln's and gripped it firmly. She ignored how her cheeks felt.


Within the somewhat rundown auditorium, plumes of incense and decay clung to the foundation of the interior, the walls and ceiling sticky with the cleansing scents and rising precipitation from the accumulating crowd below. The chamber needed little to enhance the darkness in the waning hours of the day and as such a collection of spotlights built into the rafters from when it'd been used by previous generations was all that was needed when it came to manipulating the focus of the event. Unnoticed by the inhabitants, and accepted, two mice ran along the beams of the inner roofing above, occasionally poking their heads over the side to peer down at the darkened figures below. With a skitter, one crawled across a strung-up sign above the current reader which had been painted with the words "Goth Mic Night".

As the latest poem came to a close, the gathered attendees waited for about half a second before lifting their hands to give a collection of snaps from their fingers in applause. The action certainly caught the newcomer's ear as he and his sister entered through the loose doorway, its door long-since having been removed over the years. The form of congratulations was a bit strange to Lincoln, but he gave it little heed while he attempted to work his way to a good position in the group. The search itself proved a bit tenser than he'd anticipated. Most of the crowd was dressed fairly standard for what Lucy might portray of herself at home, but every so often he'd come across one of the...scarier looking individuals, his "experience" with horror films doing him no favors. And one or two just looked like straight-up serial killers with how they dressed, though their demeanor gave no signs of being anything more than normal beneath the dressings.

Though it took around half-a-minute of sifting, Lincoln finally arrived at an open-enough spot that he and Lucy could occupy the space. He was a bit surprised by the girl. It had taken some prodding to get her to follow along. It was as if her feet hadn't wanted to keep pace with his, a strange notion given that she was the one familiar with the event. If anything she should have been the one leading the way, but instead he'd been pulling her the entire search. With one last tug he'd yanked her into the spot next to him, her head dipping after she bumped into his body. Though their hands were still linked, that seemed to be all that was. She would hardly look up, and when she did she'd drop her head once more upon her eyes meeting his figure, only sometimes giving a hesitant sign of recognition to him.

Shrugging off the odd behavior, Lincoln turned his attention to the stage at the front of the crowd. To Lucy's misfortune they had arrived a bit late it seemed, but there was still enough vitality to the crowd, however minimal they might have displayed it, that Lincoln doubted they were in any danger of the session ending too quickly for the girl to put her plan into action. Assuming the guy even showed up of course. Lincoln had attempted to keep an eye out for their prey as he'd looked for a spot to stand, but the few light-haired individuals they'd passed bore no resemblance to the face that Lucy had shown him on her phone's video footage at the beginning of the week. He could only imagine Lucy had scanned for the boy as well and been met with perhaps a rather devastating realization towards one way their scheme might meet its end. But Lincoln had little worry. There was still ample time left it felt like.

On the stage an older girl, probably around Luan's age, recited lines that she had clearly spent time crafting for a good while. The intricate and detailed nature of the words alone were evidence enough of that. It wasn't necessarily the most catchy verses he'd ever heard, but Lincoln could admire the effort, even if he hadn't been paying attention to what the sentences actually were. Giving more of a listen to the later portion, he could tell more of what the person was actually talking about. Futility. Emptiness. The be all and end all of things. Typical stuff pretty much. The way the sentences were lined up and flowed into each other however drilled a more sentimental feeling into the boy's chest and he found himself unable to turn his ear away once he'd invested himself.

After around a minute of performing, the poem came to its close and Lincoln felt a swift rising tension from the audience before he became encompassed in a chorus of finger-snaps. Not wanting to upset the balance, he lifted his own hand and did the same, though with much less frequency to his pops. As the noise died down he eyed his fingers and tried figure out just how to make his digits clack together any quicker than he'd been doing it in his stint of participation. After a bow, the girl walked to the edge of the stage and stepped down making way for, what Lincoln could only assume was, the "host" of the event to walk into the spotlight. As they spoke a few words to the audience, Lincoln continued his snapping attempts a few more times before shaking his head in defeat and looked to his side.

To his almost shock, Lucy was just standing there staring at the ground. There was no evidence that she'd even tried to search for anything since the few brief looks he saw her make when they'd initially arrived in the building. It's not like she didn't want to of course. Obviously she'd love to spot the light-hair atop its round face and bite her fangs into his soft neck, but she...couldn't. The circumstances, the setting, the...entire operation. It was...she didn't know what she'd expected the experience to feel like, but she knew that what she felt in that building was not what she'd been striving for. The thoughts of failure, the nervous anxiety in her stomach, the countless ways that it could all be compromised. She gulped down a dribble of unease and leaned up against Lincoln's arm, the texture and smell helping to calm her.

She felt her hairs stand on end as he wrapped his arm around her body and pulled her closer. Instinctively she dug her face against the side of his neck.

"Sigh..." she said quietly. No matter how she had treated the glimpses of his face that she'd gotten, Lucy found herself lost in comfort within Lincoln's grip.

"Luce?" she heard him whisper, his lips tickling the strands of hair around her ear. She could feel a small smile on her face.

"Mhmm..." she hummed back. Her face lit up as she felt his hand squeeze the side of her waist that the arm had wrapped the appendage towards. "Sigh...Lincoln...I...this is...sigh, thanks for-"

"Lucy..." he murmured more sternly. Confused by his seeming disregard, Lucy glanced up and was met with his eyes. She would have probably reacted more warily towards the stare if it had stayed on her, but the moment after she locked eyes with him, his darted to the side. Lincoln brought the pupils back to her and dashed them to the side again. Understanding the gesture, the girl turned her head and looked towards where his vision directed. Then she died. At least she felt like she did. Looking directly at her was the boy. The one that she had been after. The one they'd been preparing for all week. The one that she'd asked for Lincoln's assistance in acquiring. And there he was. Looking at her. Looking at them. Watching as a boy of similar height and hair-hue held his arm around her.

What Lincoln assumed to be a continued portrayal of affection for the display was instead Lucy's alarmed body curling deeper against his for support. Whatever the intent, it only cemented the boy's stare at the scene. His eyes swamped with covet, he kept his head locked in the direction of the pair. As the latest poet read out their lines Lucy buried her face into Lincoln's neck. It may have been necessary to ensure their target's interest in her, but dear lord if the private breaths against his skin weren't painting Lincoln's face with a darker shade. The latest reader had finished their poem, and this time the applause was in the form of actual claps, though their impacts were rather quiet and respectable.

"So...he's right there...he's NOT looking away..." Lincoln murmured into her ear as a boy took the stage, "...you gonna do it?..."

"Not now...it'd-...it'd jeopardize everything..." Lucy whispered back. Lincoln's brows bent. It may have been a baffling claim for him, but Lucy needed more time. Time to collect. To prepare. She couldn't just rush him. No that would only end in disaster. She needed meditation. Calmness. Ease. Breathing more deeply, she tried to focus. Tried to focus on images of serenity. Of peace. Graveyards. Vampires. Edwin. Books. Lincoln. That final image broke her clean out of the steadied breaths and she popped open her eyes to see the physical view of her partner. Her inhales became more ragged, but allowed for a longer inflow.

"...he uh...looked away for a bit at some other girl but...he's looking at us again..." Lincoln informed, "ya...may wanna do something...who knows if he's gonna go for another gir-"

"H-he w-won't..." Lucy mumbled, her face still in the side of his jaw. Lincoln's blush deepened from the feeling of her lips moving against his neck. Minutes seemed to pass allowing another poet to take the stage in the meantime. Lucy was breathing deep now. Thinking. Contemplating. The moves to make. The delicate procedures to initiate. Flashes of her attempts at Rocky pierced the surface of her brain. She knew better now. At least she hoped she did. If nothing else the air she took in was assisting her thoughts. And the skin she rubbed against...she hadn't noticed it but her mouth had been slowly opening which shut from another squeeze from Lincoln.

"Luce...he's..."

"Right," she murmured. They were on a time-clock and every second they wasted was another closer to the end. Her mind now more stable, Lucy parted from her brother and turned to face the boy in the crowd. As reminded, he was still standing there, but with Lucy now having turned her attention to him his focus broke from her and stared off towards some other part of the crowd. Her feet did everything they could to stay planted where they were, but the pulsing determination Lincoln had helped to provide her with proved enough to begin a slow trek through towards his direction. It wasn't enough however. Time had run out.

"Thank you Sasha, as well as the rest of you out there tonight," the host declared to the crowd after about half a minute of silence from the stage. Lucy felt her unbeating heart slide up into her throat and begin to choke her. She couldn't believe it. She was too late! Even as the person on the stage began the closing statements she could see him turn to head towards the exit! He wasn't even going to stay for the end! "This has been a lovely showing. If anyone wishes to perform one last poem however, we still do have time. Anybody?" She hadn't been the only one to notice the sudden departure. Scrunching his face, Lincoln balled up his fists and took charge towards the steps of the stage. "Any-"

"I got one!" Lincoln hollered. All eyes turned to him, Lucy and the boy's included, at least until the girl continued to make her way towards the boy she was after once she understood the opportunity she'd been given. For a moment Lincoln felt a wave of embarrassment and stupidity wash over him, but only for a moment. That faded away as quickly as it came in the presence of the severity of their mission. Lincoln paused for a few seconds and stood there in silence, a light sweat on his body, before he swallowed and closed his eyes. He needed to think. Given that his audience was mostly of Lucy's type they'd probably buy that the pause and eye-close were part of his "act". Building drama for the payoff to come. But what was the payoff? Knowing that he had a bit of time his mind flipped through the various types of poetry that he was familiar with and settled on the one that he felt would buy his partner the most time. He just hoped he could pull it off under such pressure and with the limited time he had to prepare.

"In the graveyards do you walk...

Among bones and blood you toil..."

Lucy's venture started to slow. Her feet still walked, but her mind didn't ignore the sudden rhyming.

"Through...the headstones...have you sought

But their tombs you've left unspoiled..."

Lucy's mind filled with vivid representations of the scenes that his voice portrayed. Intricately her mind worked to unravel what was being talked about, unknowing of the effort that Lincoln was having to give to make the phrases up so quickly.

"Your hands they dig and fill with dirt

Another corpse at rest...

Your heart...it...hangs and beats with...mirth...

But your mind doth attest..."

The light-haired boy in the crowd, had also become rather enraptured by the performance, but noticing who the person on stage was that was speaking, he turned his attention back to the girl the poet had been standing with. To his dismay the black-haired girl looked to be completely enraptured by her boyfriend's poem. Seeing no hope, he turned back to the exit.

"Is this the scene you love so dear?

The path ahead at end...

Do you...despair and act in...fear?

Please...you have a friend..."

Lucy could feel a swelling flutter in her chest as she listened. The words felt like a wave of lush pillows flowing around her, their fabric rubbing away the troubles and turmoil of the day and her hands folded over each other near the base of her throat.

"I may not be your undead crave..." Lincoln said, his voice lowering for the end, "But my care for you...shall remain..."

Both Louds let loose their tense breath at the same time, Lincoln for the relief of having made it through his spontaneous volunteering. He waited nervously in the pause that followed and gave a sigh as the audience erupted in quiet applause. Delighted, he bowed, but quickly reprimanded himself and dipped back into an uncaring slump on the stage. To his surprise the host of the event even gave their own rousing claps as they walked to his side and smiled down at him. Shooting back a bashful grin, he headed towards the steps and hopped to the ground to begin his search for Lucy. It did not take long to spot the black-haired girl. As he stumbled to her through the impressed crowd he could see her smiling at him, hands clasped together.

"So?..." he beamed upon making it to her.

"Sigh...that was incredible..." she congratulated. Lincoln blinked a few times, looked to the left, then up, and blinked a few more times, his pupils shrinking each time before lowering them back down to his sister. His smile now stretched from cheek to cheek, but beneath the surface it looked as though it might tear apart from the incredulousness that he'd been met with.

"...hold up..." he muttered through the happy mask he wore. Lucy felt as though she should have taken a step backwards. She didn't know why though. His face was coated in delight, as well it should have been from the reception, but her instincts were insisting that the expression was more akin to a lion waiting to pounce. "You...did...you-..." he murmured as he tried to find the right words. Now she did take a step back. Whatever the smile was holding back was not nearly as pleasant as the face he displayed. "Are you...telling me...that...you...LISTENED...to the poem...instead of GOING AFTER HIM?..." Lucy's face felt as though it slid off of her head and shattered on the ground. At first the quiet sounds of the crowd around her faded. Then what little light there was. She was left standing there in the darkness of soul-crushing despair.

"No..." Lucy said quietly. Hastily she spun around and started looking for the boy.

"Are you serious?" she heard Lincoln ask from behind her.

"No!" she cried shoving deeper against the bodies around them.

"ARE YOU SERIOUS?!" Lincoln's voice repeated. Desperately Lucy searched, but no matter where she looked the results came up the same. He was gone. Her heart dipping, Lucy turned back around to face the other boy of interest, but he wasn't faring much better. "You-I...I can not...believe-!...that-...gg-...GNN!" Lincoln grunted through his constricting expression. He couldn't even bring himself to look at Lucy for more than a few seconds at a time. After about the third glance, he whirled around to face the direction opposite of his sister and stomped off into the crowd.

"Lincoln!" Lucy called. She tried to follow, but the vain hope of locating their target kept her from moving too far. "W-wait!...please..." Lucy tried to peer through the mass of bodies for either boy as the host on the stage detailed the upcoming dance that she had wanted to go to with the boy she had spent so long preparing for. But she found neither of them. Hopelessness pulsing through her veins, Lucy's head dropped to the ground and she dragged her feet through the crowd towards the exit. "...Sigh..." She couldn't believe it. All that time. All that work. For nothing... Just complete and utter failure. And what's more, it was at the expense of all of Lincoln's work as well. Everything that they'd done. Everything that he'd forfeited. And she had let him down. Her stomach ached with an unpleasant nausea as she stumbled into the night air outside. She just wanted to curl up in her coffin.

"Lucy?" an unexpected voice said. Startled, the black-haired girl looked to the side to see a taller goth, but one that she knew.

"Haiku?" she responded with just as much surprise.

"It's good to see you were able to make it to this at least," the older girl said with a smirk, "You didn't tell me your brother was joining us. He looked good." Lucy's face flushed at the mention of him. Then she thought of something that made her head lifted.

"You knew Lincoln was here?" she asked.

"Of course," Haiku nodded as she flattened out a poster she'd been putting up against the wall of the building, "how could you not pay attention to such an eloquent poem? I just had to take a look inside to see who was talking. Such talent." Lucy felt the bile rise in her digestion.

"Yeah...it is..." she agreed in quiet admiration. Noticing the smoothing of her friend's hands she looked to the poster she was handling, the image of which reiterated what had caught her attention.

"The Royal Woods Ball of the Undead?" Lucy murmured. She'd almost rather not have seen the words now. Almost.

"Yes. It was quite an ordeal to decide on how the posters should look, but I think it came out decent," Haiku said, commenting on the visuals of the sheets she'd printed earlier that day, "Of course we do so hope you can assist us next time. You always have a certain...flair to your designs."

"Well...I did make a comic once..." Lucy claimed with a bit of pride, "Actually Haiku...I was...looking for someone...you wouldn't have happened to have seen a boy around Lincoln's height come through here, would you have? Lightish hair. Round face."

"Oh yes," Haiku replied automatically. Lucy's head raised higher into the air. "He was quiet melancholy. I made sure to remind him of the upcoming event though. He said he'd be there hoping to find someone that might join him in a dance." Lucy felt her stomach slide back into place as her face illuminated. There was still a hope! "Hello Lincoln," Haiku said. Her joints stiffened, Lucy chanced a look towards the entrance to see her brother standing there, a wet rag drenched in the eyeliner that had been on his face on the ground next to him.

"Hey Haiku..." he replied politely. Lincoln only looked to Lucy for a second or two before looking to the exit of the building's parking-lot. Wordlessly he started walking, his hands stuffed into his pockets. Lucy felt her insides churn again as she watched him depart.

"...sigh..."

-end of chapter-

Welp, guess we're not ending the story here. This chapter sure took up a few weeks. It's been pretty much nothing other than me working on this when I'm not working on my comic or working at the factory I work at. Very...a lot of...work to cram inbetween everything else I do to make this chapter. But, we're still going! Looks like Lucy still has a shot. And looks like Lincoln's not all that elated about things right now. How are things going to go from here on out? Is Lucy on her own? Will Lincoln donate his goth clothes to charity? Will Luan pop out of a cake at the Ball and ruin everything?

Oh, but uh, to the dude askin' about where the "lemons" are in the fic, sorry but you're...kind of out of luck. Look at the rating.