Roman rose into the living room common area and sat down with his laptop at the dining table. Logan was sitting on the couch sitting stiffly upright and reading a textbook. He looked up, nodding to acknowledge Roman's presence and returned to his book. Patton also looked up from the floor next to the coffee table with photographs in his hands. He beamed a wide smile at Roman and waved before returning his gaze down to his project.
It was Patton's idea to work together in the living room. He had explained that he was getting very lonely sitting in his room doing nothing but his projects other than coming out to discuss issues or guide Thomas in the daytime. They still saw each other multiple times a day, so Roman and Logan didn't know what all the fuss was about, but after some bickering, they agreed to come out if they could do it silently. They agreed they would work better if they could stay focused instead of getting side-tracked with arguments like they regularly did.
So Roman and Logan had agreed to come out and spend time some quiet time with him. They were working separately in Thomas's living room, a neutral and uncharged area that they used to converge in outside of their rooms. They met in the morning for breakfast, but generally, they privately worked on their own agendas until things slowed down in at night. Sometimes. It got hectic on the mind space pretty often. Thomas had a lot of things going on. So a quiet moment where they were together and weren't arguing with each other was a nice change of pace.
The trio worked quietly, comfortable in each other's company. Patton was scrap-booking one of Thomas's plays. Logan was studying a chemistry textbook, and Roman was working on one of his play scripts. His fingers tapped quietly across a laptop keyboard as he brainstormed new plots and twists. Patton broke his concentration with a deep, satisfied sigh.
"Thomas sure has the most fun with shows. Look at all these big smiles!" He announced, holding up his scrapbook. There were red curtain stickers and little stars around a photo of Thomas at a rehearsal, striking a pose and acting his heart out. The other page had him working on sets, with a big laugh from a friend's joke. This one had a rainbow sticker with little paint splatters.
"Yes, Thomas finds fulfillment from a variety of pursuits," Logan said, bristling slightly, gesturing towards his textbook.
"Aw, don't be like that Lo! Ingenuity is just the scientific version of creativity! Everything Thomas does benefit from creativity just as much as it does from knowledge. Creativity is kind of like applied knowledge!" Patton explained enthusiastically.
"It is, isn't it?" Roman said and puffed up with pride.
"That is an oversimplified explanation, but knowledge is indeed the basis of all pursuits," Logan said somewhat curtly.
"Yes, but I take that knowledge and turn it to art!" Roman proclaimed with a flourish.
"If I was so inclined, I could also come up with further applied uses of my accrued knowledge," Logan said with a little edge to his tone as he turned a page.
Patton's eyes slowly opened wider, like a cartoonishly dawning realization. "Oh! Logan, that's so smart!" Patton clapped and bounced where he sat on the floor. Logan looked confused. "Why don't we!" Patton raised his arms high above his head and wiggling his fingers, drawing both sides' attention from what was assuredly impending argument.
"Oh?" Logan raised his eyebrow at Patton. "In what way do you mean?"
"Let's write stories! All of us! We'll meet in a week and share our stories! Wouldn't it be neat to see how all the sides 'apply what they know'?" Patton said excitedly, using air quotes with his fingers.
"That would be intriguing. I will participate." Logan said evenly and pushed up his glasses.
"I am the only side here with the chops to complete an epic tale!" Roman proudly announced and flexed his arms.
Patton clapped his hands. "So you're in then? That's great!" He cheered. Roman tried to interrupt to say it was useless to try, but Patton summoned a puppy note-pad and a gel pen. "I'll tell the others!" he said and started writing notes and clapping them between his hands, where they disappeared to be sent off to the other sides.
"The others?" Logan and Roman both shot each other looks of concern and objected at once.
"Well, I said, everyone, didn't I, silly billies? We don't want to be exclusionary!" he said in an excited tone as he sent off the last note.
"The others are the ones that don't take part the same as we do!" Roman protested quickly.
"Well, maybe that's just the way they are. They don't have to have storytime with us if they don't want to. I'm not going to be rude and exclude them on our part, even if they can be icky. It's not like they won't know if we don't tell them, I'd rather invite them than have story-crashers," Patton said, nodding resolutely. A note appeared pretty quickly, on a green cartoon octopus-shaped note. Logan grabbed it.
"This note has a penis on it," Logan said, causing Patton to go sheet white and snatch it out of Logan's hands and crush it up. "I honestly do not know if that is his way of accepting or declining," Logan said seriously while Patton threw the wadded note down and tried to ground it unto dust it under his foot.
Roman sighed. "You brought that on yourself, padre," Roman said dejectedly. Patton chuckled nervously.
"Well, kiddo, maybe he will try to be nice, but it will be a learning experience for all of us either way," Patton shakily, sounding like he was already regretting it.
"Yes, a learning experience. That is very astute, Patton. I think I would like to go begin my research now if I am to discover a new paradigm before next week." Logan said, closing his textbook.
"Wait, Lo, this is a story exercise-" Patton tried to interject before he left, but Logan was already gone. There was a momentary pause, and then Patton's shoulder's slumped. "Maybe I should have added 'PG13 max rating for stories' to the notes…" he said under his breath.
"I'll protect you, Pat. Don't worry about those scoundrels." Roman declared triumphantly, trying to lift Patton's mood as he pats Patton on the back. Patton's eyes twinkled.
"You made a physical pun," he said, mesmerized and eyes shining with delight. Roman looked bashful, but before Roman could confirm or deny, another note appeared. It was on a yellow smiley-face note.
"Count me in. I would love to. An ideal way to spend an afternoon," He read the note aloud and breathed a sigh of relief. Thank everything that was all well and good.
"Really! Who else is joining us?" Patton exclaimed, making grabby fingers at the note. Roman passed it over to him, and Patton sobered in recognition.
"Oh. Well, darn. Y'know he probably would have been the second-best storyteller here if he came." Patton said, dejected again. Roman bristled, but then settled down as he realized he agreed. If any side could weave a believable tale other than himself, it would have been him.
A burnt-orange notepaper fell into Patton's hands. Roman read over his shoulder that it just read 'Nah'. Patton kicked at the ground in disappointment, but Roman could see a twinge of relief. They did already had one very large wild card from the beginning and that would be tough enough to deal with another. But there was one last note missing if Patton really sent them to everybody.
"Anxiety hasn't responded," Patton said, tapping Roman on his arm.
"Well, do we really want the nightmare on emo street to show up? His stories would be such downers!" Roman said in a huff.
"Bucko, we should look for and accept different viewpoints from our own. It's how we grow as people and form our own opinions!" Patton said, using his dad-voice. Roman was not a fan of the patronizing way it sounded and made him feel like a naughty child. He was just as old as Patton, dang it. Roman threw up his arms in complaint.
"Well, it's not like I can just call him up and say 'Hey death for brains, come depress us in 7 days!', Patton!" Roman said, frustrated.
"I can do that, Princompoop," A dark voice came from behind him. Roman unsheathed his Katana and whipped around to find the source. "Seven days? I like that. Kind of like The Ring," Anxiety said, stepping forward from the shadow he obscured himself in, hands up to show he was unarmed. Roman wouldn't attack an unarmed individual even if it was him. Patton bounded over to Anxiety.
"Anxiety! Do you mean it? You'll join us for a storytime?" Patton said, bouncing on one foot.
"Storytime? Princealot over there said I was just supposed to depress you in 7 days," Anxiety looked confused at first until he locked eyes with Roman glaring daggers at him and returned them fiercely.
"You didn't get my note, kiddo?" Patton asked. Anxiety shook his head.
"I wasn't in my room," Anxiety explained and grimaced as Roman made a throat-cutting motion in his direction.
"Roman, if you can't play nice, go to your room!" Patton loudly told him off with an exasperated look on his face.
"Don't tell me what to do! But I will just so I don't have to look at his stupid face anymore!" Roman objected loudly and sank out of the living room, arms crossed.
— * * * —
Anxiety's eyes rolled so hard his whole head moved. "We have the same face. He knows we have the same face, right?" He groaned.
Patton gave a mild shrug. "He just doesn't see what I do! You'll join us right, kiddo?" He said, his eyes bright and holding his hands together as if to beg. He really wanted his baby boy to come.
"I'm not a storytime guy, dude…" Anxiety said and trailed off, his head dropping and shoving his hands in his hoodie pouch.
Patton raised his arms in objection. "I'm not a dude, I'm your dad! Anxiety, you come up with so many ways things could go wrong-" He emphatically started to explain.
"Gee, thanks, Patton," Anxiety interjected with a scowl on his face. Whoops!
"I'm sorry, kiddo, I mean you can see so many outcomes! You know the things that could happen! I bet if you tried, you could make a story just as creative as Roman's." Anxiety visibly perked up as Patton finished. Anxiety was clearly most interested in the idea of showing up the prince, but Patton would take his blessings where he could get them.
"It isn't like… a contest or anything, right? Nobody's gonna judge me?" Anxiety asked quietly, and his arms started to curl in protectively.
"No, goodness no, it's just a storytime! To see what we can do creatively as different parts of Thomas... You don't have to join if you really don't want to." Patton said. He didn't like seeing Anxiety so stressed and tried to let him know it was okay if he really didn't want to come. Anxiety shrunk back slightly.
After a moment of silence, Anxiety replied. "And you want me there?" Anxiety shuffled his feet and didn't take his eyes off the floor.
"Of course, kiddo! I want them to know how great you can be! It would mean a lot to me if you even showed up!" Patton said, dancing a little in his spot.
"Yeah… okay. Sure. For you, Pat. It's like… free-form writing? I could bring anything?" Anxiety asked, shifting awkwardly and looking up at Patton through his bangs.
"Oh, uh, yes! Yes, whatever you want. You've got a week to write something. It doesn't have to be a long story, or new, or your best work! Just pick something that kinda represents how you express your creativity!" Patton exclaimed. The volume seemed to cause Anxiety to shrink away. Patton pulled his puppy notes out of the air and wrote down the time and handed it to Anxiety who took it reluctantly, and Patton was careful to avoid contact so he wouldn't scare Anxiety further.
"This is a loosey-goosey time. I mean, if one of us is busy with Thomas or something we'll skooch it around." He explained and tapped the note in Anxiety's hand with his gel pen. "I'll send you a note if there's a change in time… unless you want to give me your number?" Patton asked with a bit of a pout and wide eyes. "It would be faster," Anxiety stepped back further, looking kind of stricken and disappeared on the spot. "Whoops! Sorry if I pushed you, Kiddo!" He shouted to the empty room, not sure his anxious child could hear him.
— * * * —
Virgil popped back into his room, already starting to freak out about what he agreed to. He really didn't want to disappoint Patton. He was the only one out of the 3 who was nice to him. Well, only one at all that seemed to like him and want to be near him. Not that he liked being treated like a kid, but at least he was regarded fondly. Plus, Patton's humor was so bad that it was good, and Virgil desperately needed the laugh sometimes. If it was just Patton, he probably wouldn't be as afraid.
However, being with the others was hard. Roman quite literally fought him all the time and Logan was dismissive and clearly didn't like including him. But he had to be there to protect Thomas! They're all dreamers and much as Logan would hate to hear him say it. They don't seem to look at the hard parts of reality or acknowledge Thomas's very real struggles, or even how realistic their wants were. If he wasn't worried Patton would make Thomas run into a street just to pet a dog or something, he would avoid showing up altogether. He couldn't take their scorn. Thomas's dislike of him hurt the most, though. Thomas wanted to be in the clouds, but Virgil wanted to make sure he didn't leave earth altogether, and Thomas just couldn't see that.
Virgil kicked off his shoes against the wall for that satisfying 'thud' and paced his room. Trying to think of what to do. He was so scared of getting yelled at again. It felt like every time he showed up he did, and this was entirely voluntary- Thomas isn't going to get hurt if he doesn't show up to this. It seemed like a chance to get to know them on a neutral ground. Maybe if they interacted with him more when they weren't arguing, they'd like him a little more? But the more he thought about it, it was rife with opportunities for them to be mean or yell or hurt him. Writing is so personal. That was Pat's point, but if they hated his writing then it would hurt more than just Princey shooting a Disney insult at him.
Maybe he could get out of this without hurting Patton's feelings. Virgil popped out of his room into a well lit Victorian-styled study, with the cliche globe and a big mahogany desk with a carved wood chair. He could be so extra. The room was warmed with a glowing fire, and the walls were lined with what looked like a file on everything. He didn't take things lightly. Virgil shuffled awkwardly behind a large flocked brown wingback chair with golden rivets.
"Yes, I heard, you agreed to that stupid storytelling thing. What do you require my services for?" The voice asked as Virgil rounded the chair and squatted down on the balls of his feet in front of the chair. The man in the chair was a mirror image of Virgil, but sitting in a such a wild cross-legged villain pose that it could never be him. For one, Virgil wouldn't actually sit in the chair. He also probably was not physically capable of smirking like that. That probably required a not-completely human mandible.
"I, uh, don't want you to go impersonate me or anything… I just wanted to know what's the nicest way I could get out of it? Y'know, without hurting Pat's feelings? Do I just show up and sit there and hope they don't gang up on me? Do I submit something at all? Do I write something new? Maybe my poetry-" Virgil started rambling, but a flash and Deceit, back in his regular cloak and suit holding up his hand in the wingback chair interrupted him.
"Please, keep rambling on, it's so helpful," Deceit said, a warning note in his tone. Virgil's eyes widened, and he shut his mouth shut tight. Deceit took a moment to breathe and focus. "The pros outweigh the cons, Virgil. You should go. You should take part. It would be a perfect opening. You will have some familiar company. Remus will join you," Deceit said coolly. Virgil groaned when he heard Remus would be there.
"He's only okay with me when he decides to be! The rest of the time he just wants to watch me freak out," Virgil said while drawing a circle in the carpet fibers with his finger.
"Aren't we all that way, Virgil? Don't we all decide how to treat people every moment?" Deceit cooed. Virgil lowered his eyes to the floor. "Glad we agree." Virgil nodded. He knew that was the end of that discussion. Deceit snapped, and he was holding a file and a giant feather quill.
"Are we still on for chess tomorrow?" Virgil asked quickly, desperately feeling a need for a change in tone.
"No," Deceit lied coolly. "I would much rather play with Remus, who insists a crowbar to the face is a legal move." Virgil laughed.
"Cool. Can I… just chill by the fire here?" Virgil asked quietly. He liked being in the mind palace. His room didn't affect him, but he spent much more time there, alone with his thoughts, than he could take lately. Maybe that's part of why he agreed to this whole mess in the first place.
"Go ahead, impose yourself on me." Deceit said, looking over a file. He was already busy writing on the paper in the folder. Deceit would kick him out when he was sick of Virgil's presence, he always did. Deceit never tried to trick Virgil into thinking he was wanted when he wasn't. He wasn't cruel like that, though by all means he other things about him that were dangerous or upsetting.
Virgil stood and walked over to the giant fireplace and settled down onto a white fur runner in front of it. Virgil rolled his eyes at how stereotypical it all was, but the rug was so soft between his toes and the fire was nice. He slipped on his headphones and watched the fire roar, warming in its glow. Deceit was right. It was a great opening. It's not like he didn't already write… he just never intended to tell any of them, much less show them.