— ? ﾸﾏ —

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 in 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 pleasant 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 bristled slightly, lifting his textbook with a curt gesture to attract attention to it.

"Aw, don't be like that Lo! Ingenuity is just the scientific version of creativity! Everything Thomas does benefits from creativity just as much as it does from knowledge. Creativity is kind of like applied knowledge!" Patton explained enthusiastically, smiling at Logan.

"It is, isn't it?" Roman said and puffed up with pride, puffing up his chest.

"That is an oversimplified explanation, but knowledge is indeed the basis of all pursuits," Logan stated strongly, shooting an intense look at Roman.

"Yes, but I take that knowledge and turn it into art!" Roman proclaimed with a flourish, and small sparkles fluttered in the air above his hands. He grinned smugly at Logan, arching a challenging eyebrow at him.

"If I was so inclined, I could also come up with further applied uses of my accrued knowledge," Logan replied with a sharp edge to his tone as he turned a page, keeping his focus dismissively on his textbook.

Patton's eyes slowly opened wider, as if he was experiencing a cartoonishly dawning realization. "Oh! Logan, that's so smart!" Patton clapped twice and bounced where he sat on the floor. Logan shot Patton a baffled expression before returning to glare at Roman, who still looked intensely at Logan. "Why don't we?" Patton raised his arms high above his head and wiggling his fingers, drawing both sides' attention from what was assuredly an impending argument.

"Oh?" Logan raised his eyebrow at Patton. "In what way do you mean?" The interest in his tone was apparent, once again ignoring Roman's fierce expression.

"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 replied evenly and pushed up his glasses.

"I am the only side here with the chops to weave such an epic tale!" Roman proudly declared and slashed his katana in a jutty motion in the air.

Patton clapped his hands and bobbed on the floor again with glee. "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 as he sent them 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!" Patton shook his head with a chiding 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 instantly, motioning behind him to nothingness.

"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 explained, nodding resolutely. A green cartoon octopus-shaped note appeared instantly, fluttering down in the air. Logan snatched it out from the air and examined it.

"This note has a penis on it," Logan said, causing Patton to go sheet white and snatch it out of Logan's hands. He balled and crush it up fiercely in his palms. "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 to dust it under his foot.

Roman exhaled harshly, gesturing with his arms. "You brought that on yourself, padre," He stated dejectedly. Patton chuckled nervously, shaking out his hands and kicking away the pieces of the destroyed sticky note.

"Well, kiddo, it's good to give people chances, 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 stood up from his seat, 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 shoulders slumped. "Maybe I should have added 'PG13 max rating for stories' to the notes…" He muttered 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 patted Patton on the back. Patton's eyes twinkled up at Roman, the dour mood that surrounded him lifting immediately.

"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. The yellow smiley-face note swayed side to side, dodging Roman's hand the first time he tried to grasp at it. Roman huffed and swiped at it a second time, grasping it this time.

"Count me in. I would love to. An ideal way to spend an afternoon," Roman read the note aloud and breathed a sigh of relief. Thank everything that was all well and good. Roman held the note between two fingers and ran his other hand through his hair.

"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 of the note's sender and the tone that implied.

"Oh. Well, darn. Y'know he probably would have been the second-best storyteller here if he came," Patton hummed, looking dejected once more. Roman bristled but then settled down as he realized Patton wasn't wrong. If any side could devise a believable tale other than himself, it would have been him.

A burnt-orange note fell straight down into Patton's hands. Roman read over Patton's shoulder, but the note just read 'Nah'. Patton sagged in disappointment, but Roman could see a twinge of relief. They did already have one very large wild card from the first note that arrived, and that would be tough enough to deal with another. Roman looked around the air in confusion. There was one last note missing if Patton actually sent them to every side.

"Anxiety hasn't responded," Patton pointing out, 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 exclaimed in a disgusted 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 objected, using his dad-voice. Roman was not a fan of being patronized, and the way Patton said it and made him Roman like a naughty child. He was just as old as Patton, dang it! Roman threw up his arms in protest, glowering in disdain.

"Well, it's not like I can just call him up and say 'Hey death for brains, come depress us in seven days!', Patton!" Roman replied glibly, completely frustrated with the entire situation.

"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 hummed, stepping forward from the shadow he obscured himself in, his hands up lazily in the air to show he was unarmed. Roman wouldn't attack an unarmed individual… even if it was him. Patton bounded over to Anxiety with an ecstatic expression.

"Anxiety! Do you mean it? You'll join us for a storytime?" Patton asked pleadingly, bouncing on one foot in front of Anxiety.

"Storytime? Princealot over there said I was just supposed to depress you in seven days," Anxiety looked confused and glanced around the room for a moment. When his eyes landed on Roman glaring daggers at him, he returned them fiercely just as fiercely, his fast plastered with a grimace.

"You didn't get my note, kiddo?" Patton asked, furrowing his eyebrows. Anxiety shook his head, looking slightly blindsided.

"I wasn't in my room," Anxiety shook his head, looking slightly blindsided. He 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 maybe I will just so I don't have to look at his stupid face anymore!" Roman complained loudly and sank out of the living room, arms crossed. He stuck out his tongue at Anxiety on the way down.

— ? —

Anxiety's eyes rolled so hard his whole head moved, rolling to the side. "We have the same face. He knows we have the same face, right?" He groaned, motioning half-heartedly to where Roman just sank away from.

Patton gave a mild, non-committal shrug. "He just doesn't see what I do! You'll join us right, kiddo?" He said, his eyes sparkling 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 rejected and trailed off, his head dropping and shoving his hands in his hoodie pouch and backing up slightly.

Patton raised his arms in objection, pouting for a moment. Maybe he just needed a little help. "I'm not a dude, I'm your dad! Anxiety, you come up with so many ways things could go wrong—" He emphatically began to try to bolster Anxiety a little.

"Gee, thanks, Patton," Anxiety interjected with a scowl on his face, speaking out the side of his mouth. 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?" Anxiety asked quietly, and his arms started to curl in protectively. "I mean, not that I care, but…" Anxiety trailed off, looking away.

"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 spoke reassuringly. He didn't like seeing Anxiety so stressed and tried to let him know it was okay if he genuinely didn't want to come. Patton wanted him to, though, and still held up his hands and pulled a puppy dog face at him. Anxiety shrunk back slightly, looking slightly embarrassed.

After a moment of silence that Anxiety quietly chewed his lips in consideration, Anxiety finally spoke. "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 replied, shimmying in his spot. His son was going to come to storytime!

"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, nodding eagerly. 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. He took it reluctantly, and Patton was careful to avoid contact so he wouldn't scare Anxiety further. Patton backed up as Anxiety stared at the note.

"This is a loosey-goosey time. I mean, if one of us is busy with Thomas or something, we'll skooch it around." Patton 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 freaking out about what he agreed to. He really didn't want to disappoint Patton. Virgil hated disappointing anyone. He was the only one out of the three who was nice to him. Well, only one at all that seemed to like him and want to be near him. Not that he appreciated 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 concerned. The problem was the others.

Interacting with the others was hard. Roman literally fought him all the time and Logan was dismissive and rejected Virgil's very reasonable issues stoutly. Neither clearly would want to include 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. When it all built up, it was overwhelming. 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 didn't want to get yelled at again. It felt like every time he showed up he did, and this was entirely voluntary—Thomas will not 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 hurt him in ways he usually avoided. He even had Thomas avoid these kinds of things! Writing is so personal, and sharing that made you vulnerable. The personal part was probably Pat's point, but if they hated his writing then it would hurt more than just Princey shooting a Disney insult at him. He already knew he wasn't a talented writer or anything. Virgil wasn't the creative part! He just liked to get his thoughts out like that sometimes, but he thought no one would actually read them.

Maybe he could get out of this without hurting Patton's feelings. He just saw that big pout and didn't want to hurt his feelings in the first place. But what he agreed to could hurt Virgil's feelings too, not only Patton's. He needed some ideas. Or help. Anything, really. He didn't want to upset anyone. Roman and Logan wouldn't want him there, anyway.

Virgil popped out of his room into a well-lit Victorian-styled study, with the cliche globe and a big mahogany desk paired 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, unsure how to start.

"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 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? I could just show up and sit there? Do I submit something at all? Do I write something new? Maybe my poetry—" Virgil listed off what he was thinking about, but a flash and Deceit, back in his regular cloak and suit, holding up his gloved hand in the wingback chair to stop him before he got into full ramble mode.

"Please, keep rambling on, it's so helpful," Deceit stated, 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. Write something new, something you're not too attached to. It would be a perfect opening. You will have some familiar company. Remus will join you," Deceit said coolly. Virgil groaned and flopped his arms 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 grumbled out a protest 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, tapping his fingers together. Virgil lowered his eyes to the floor. "Glad we agree," Deceit hummed. Virgil nodded in resignation. He knew that was the end of that discussion. It's not like Deceit was wrong. Deceit snapped, and he was holding a file and a giant feather quill while Virgil chewed his lip.

"Are we still on for chess tomorrow?" Virgil asked, desperately feeling a need for a change in mood. He felt so awkward it hurt.

"No," Deceit lied coolly. "I would much rather play with Remus, who insists a crowbar to the face is a legal move," He scoffed, continuing to write. Virgil laughed darkly, shaking his head.

"Cool. Can I… just chill by the fire here?" Virgil pointed to the fire and looked up to Deceit. He enjoyed being in the mind palace. His room didn't affect him, but he spent much more time there, all 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 responded flatly, 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, and he liked Virgil's company just fine. Deceit never tried to trick Virgil into thinking he wanted him when he wasn't. He wasn't cruel like that. Though Deceit certainly had other traits that Virgil found distressing.

Virgil stood and walked over to the giant fireplace and settled down onto a white fur runner in front of it. Virgil was both in awe of and bemused by how stereotypical villain's study 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.