[id: an abstract cover art featuring maes artag, a cat furry with black eyes, along with smoke and geometric patterns.]

REMEDY HOUR
for (relatively spoiler free) content warnings for this project, click here.

 

 

[id: maes artag is standing in an office with charon judgment, a dog furry, and papaya, a bug-like robot. maes is wearing a green sweater and brown pants, and is holding a white cane. papaya has a blue sweater and prominent pink eyes, and charon is wearing a pink coat with a black sweater underneath. charon's hair is wild and curly, and gelled into a somewhat pompadour-esque shape. his eyes are distinctly unnatural, with "no entry" sign pupils and a similarly shaped halo above his head.]

It’s an atypical day at the Menagerie, Taverne’s largest medical facility, when Maes Artag isn’t on duty. Neither working in the surgical wards or in the secret underground facilities, the karacel finds themself tasked with a new goal- one that fills them with apprehension and…dread.
 
Maes sits in the newly-made waiting room with the handle of their white cane in a death grip, the device collapsed to avoid taking up too much room. They’re preoccupied on what feels like a dozen things at once, ranging from superficial worries such as whether their hair looks alright-

Of course it does, Charon helped me brush out all the tangles today, and I picked out the pulled back style-

-to much, much grander scale distress.

Am I doing the right thing?
My siblings need care, but…
Is…
Is letting someone know about this program so intimately the right move?
We have to go public eventually, but-
This is a good deal different than a press release. This is…

Maes realizes they’re digging their claws into the handle of their cane.

Fuck. Relax.
Therapy is normal. Lots of people go to therapy.
There are tons of therapists here. This one’s just specialized in…particularly complex trauma cases.
If I can pull this off, it’ll help people.
This is worth it. It has to be worth it.

With a shallow attempt at steadying their breath, they turn their attention to the room.

Sparsely furnished from my quick look around, but it makes sense.
We’re just borrowing the room for a few months. Chances are there’s not going to be much…personalized touches.
If this goes well, they’ll get a proper office.
For now, it’s just the three of us…
Myself, Charon, and-

Their voice comes out more curt than they'd like, the surgeon almost immediately shrinking back and following up before their partner, sitting next to them, can answer.

Maes can hear the sound of Charon’s earring jangles as he shakes his head. It’s a familiar sound, one that immediately makes Maes untense, even with how small it is. Their canine partner was easily recognizable both from his voice and the various levels of noise he was accompanied with, his motions easily choreographed from his coat rustling, pocket contents shuffling, and metal limbs clanking.

He’d been working with Maes for months at this point, and Maes is pretty sure they’d give the world for him. Once simply something between an assistant and daily companion, now significantly more than that.

Not only is he Maes’ partner, but one of their two close friends.

They catch themself, trying to reel it back in.

The two are interrupted by a nervous sounding voice.

My documents said they’d be a tall construct. Lots of eyes.
Dresses warmly and with cozy attire.
…good god, they smell like coffee. Must be a big drinker…

Maes stands up a bit too fast, awkwardly holding their hand out.

The construct reaches out and shakes with a slight firmness.

They return it just as firmly, pulling away after a moment to gesture to Charon.

Charon gets up as well, a pause before he speaks.

Probably giving them the formal knight bow…

Papaya nods.

I don’t know how I feel about this.
Considering everything, that just sounds like it’d make things worse.
But…

The karacel sighs, resigning themself to following along.

Their look is stern.

Maes’ posture stiffens up visibly.

There’s a lot of things that could mean.
It’s fine. We have a long history of achievements, it’s probably just-

Maes’ fur bristles.

Fuck.

Their voice, laden with ice, is cut off by a warm, reassuring tone.

...he did.
And he did find details about Anya…
It’s…
I have to be ready for this.
Anyone I hire with qualifications for the rehab program has probably heard rumors…

They take a deep breath, letting it out as a sigh.

Papaya speaks up.

That gets them to back down a bit more, nodding.

That’s right.
They’re a trauma specialist with experience in mass tragedies.
Considering they’re from Plaza, that…tracks.
I picked them for a reason.

They wait for Charon to join their side, and then head forward.

[id: a head shot of maes artag, with them wearing a small, stick-on headpiece, wide-eyed and surrounded by abstract shapes reminiscent of static, smoke, and multi-colored panes of glass.]

The office itself is small but comfortable, with a nice temperature and a couch that Maes sinks into just enough as they sit down.

Their fur bristles up again at the thought of someone touching their face, but they visibly try to calm down as soon as they catch it.

Papaya applies an adhesive to two little devices, careful but efficient.

They manage to apply them with surprising ease, with very little discomfort.

They take a deep breath.

With a flick of a switch, Maes is transported toward a fairly stationary room, the feeling being very simple, almost to a cozy degree.  Charon continues to stand nearby, placing a hand on their shoulder for comfort.

Papaya chimes in.

They seem to have trouble getting started, trailing off.

This should be easy enough, right? I'm an adult and I've talked to Charon about it extensively-
Why am I freezing up?

They take a deep breath.

They can't help but grimace, the idea of it making their skin crawl.

Made into a spectacle, even more than when I first got this job.

Maes stiffens up, only managing a nod.

They struggle to get the word out, mind starting to race.

I can’t think about them right now. Keep it simple.

Papaya taps on their desk as they ponder for a bit, thinking over their words.

The room echoes with the voice of a certain dog, the feeling of Charon’s hand on their shoulder radiating warmth.

My partner

Maes jumps at first, but does their best to settle back down.

They reach up to rub their hand against the one gently touching them.

The room starts to shift toward their bedroom back on that very day, the familiar temperature settings and sensation of folded bedsheets and a hot dinner coming back.

I was safe with him. I always am.
He works so hard to take care of the two of us, and does so much to help me feel cared for.
He was there for me. Always, always there.

Maes visibly starts to relax, doing their best to let themself feel the sensations coming back.

They can't help but smile a little.

The nice sensations pick up even more, practically engulfing the room with feelings reminiscent of after-shift comforts and conversations.

The warm feeling seems to fade around the edges, the dread from earlier starting to creep in.

Their voice gets sharp at the end, Maes taking a moment to settle down.

Relax.
They’re not here to hurt you.
They use they pronouns themself, and they seem accepting.
Chill.

They take a moment to let out a long, deep breath.

They can't help but smile a little.

Maes taps Charon's hand again, reassuring themself of him being there.

Charon taps right back.

That wasn’t so bad.
I started small, but that’s okay. Small is okay.
I can go slow. I can do this.
If I can prove this works for me, it’ll work for the others.
This is fine.
I got through it, all in one piece.

The room returns back to its blank state, sensations fading along with it.  

They manage a bitter laugh.

When the construct speaks, there’s a smile to their voice.

[id: maes, an anthro cat furry, standing next to synna, an ambiguously marsupial furry with a white crop top exposing a pouch on her belly, and pink shorts. maes is wearing a brown turtleneck, and looks apprehensive. synna looks guarded but receptive.]

Maes’ office is quiet as they put work away for the day, Charon shuffling papers into folders beside them. Going back to work after the session, even if just for a day, felt alien and strange, but not nearly as bad as they were anticipating.

They break the silence, a bit of confidence in their voice.

The nerves set in as they say it, that confidence shaken already.

They take a long sigh.

Synna…she’s been my friend for a long time. It’s going to be okay…
She’s designed and made robotic prosthetics and gear for all kinds of people, including those who want this kind of thing. She’ll get it.

They lean their head onto his chest, giving him a tired bonk.

Maes nearly jumps out of their seat as there’s a knock on the office door. Synna’s voice is unmistakable, nasally and upbeat.

...as I’ll ever be.

All they give is a nod.

Charon walks on over and opens the door.

She’s probably dressed the way she usually is after-hours- way too little clothing for an engineer, but I guess she’s allowed whatever she likes off the clock…
…I suppose it suits her.

Maes goes to say something, immediately closing their mouth and swallowing before they can get the words out.

I can do this, I can do this, I can do this-

The pronoun almost seems to visibly bounce off of them, Maes having to hold back a grimace.

Synna takes that in for a moment before taking one of the empty chairs.

Maes takes another deep breath.

Charon places a hand on their shoulder quietly. They whisper a quick "...thank you" before turning back to Synna.

Synna doesn’t say anything, waiting for whatever bomb this was to drop.

There’s silence for a moment, the room feeling even more tense for Maes than the wait to get to this point.

Maes immediately cuts her off, gesturing for her to stop talking and trying to downplay the feeling of a pit opening up in their chest.

I sh-should really tell him, but…
…it’s….
How would I even start-

Maes shoots him a grateful expression, visibly tensed up after that.

A frown sneaks into her voice, her discomfort easily noticed.

She pauses, as if contemplating her next action carefully.

Synna rests her hand on her friend's, Maes slowly moving it to hold hers.

It’s warm.

She gives their hand a squeeze, a slight smile coming to the karacel's face.

The silence is so much more bearable, Maes focusing on her hand, the tension easing up out of their body.

Synna takes a moment to think, leaning back in her chair.

Maes squeezes Synna's hand a bit tighter, not even seeming to realize it.

Maes nods, keeping their head lowered.

They shake their head, letting out another long sigh.

Her tone is light, Maes practically able to picture the grin on her face.

Maes turns to Charon, tilting their head.

The grin on her face must get wider as she speaks, her voice carrying legitimate excitement.

 [id: an image of maes resting their head on charon's lap, wearing one of the headset pieces for their therapy sessions. imagery and color palette work reminiscent of maybequest, using black, white, red, and an elevator door, looms behind them.]

Maes takes a seat on Papaya's couch, their posture straight.

They turn to Charon for a moment, giving him a slight smile. Charon gives a pat on the shoulder in return, nice and gentle.

The construct’s voice carries a smile.

It’s fine. It’s going to be fine.
I can do this.

They visibly tense up, trying to collect themself.

I-
I’m scared-
It’s going to be fine, Charon’s here-

They scoot over, making room for Charon to sit with them. He doesn’t hesitate to get into position, giving Maes enough space to lay down.

They slowly ease onto his lap, giving him another grateful smile.

Charon smiles right back, Papaya unable to help themself from laughing a little.

Payapa hands the piece over to Charon, the dog proceeding to apply the adhesive gently.

The room feels a little heavier than last session, the air conditioning harsh and the ambience colder.

Maes bristles at the sudden temperature change, but doesn't object.

It’s a few moments before they speak.

In response to that, there’s the sudden sound of large vats and tubes bubbling in the room, surrounding the three of them. Indistinguishable chatter echoes against the walls, reminiscent of discussion between staff.

They have to steel themself, struggling to find the words.

The words stick in Maes’ throat.

The room begins to shift slightly, the sensation of sunlight felt on Maes’ skin. The warm and gentle air is unlike anything within the usual confines of the lab, something still new to them.

The ambiance of being at a shopping center in the evening fills the room. Light sounds of crowds enjoying themselves and the smell of a food court, pleasant to Maes’ ears.

They pause for a moment.

Papaya pauses to think of how to continue from there.

They grimace.

They let themself rest their head in Charon's lap for a few moments, taking some time to breathe.

They turn to Papaya again.

The comfort of the mall fizzles away as the room twists homeward, back to the labs. The familiarity of old bedrooms and childhood belongings on the floor contrasted against the daunting nature of the twisted chambers where experiments were held.

Their voice stops in their throat before they can get out an "okay".

That seems to snap them out of their potential spiral, the karacel nodding.

The environment restores to its neutral state, slowly but surely. A final hiss can be heard as it reverts back into a giant blank.

The slightest smile twitches at the corner of their lips, something Papaya hopefully returns.

They slowly sit up, stretching out.

They take Charon's arm in one of their own, expanding their white cane in the other.

[id: maes and charon giving each other fond, loving expressions, set in maes' apartment with warm mood lighting]

Maes had been quiet their entire trip back to the apartment them and Charon shared, not saying much aside from the occasional noise of reassurance that they were okay. Getting inside filled the karacel with a very welcome feeling of relief, but still, the tension remained.

It’s been months since he’s moved in, and I still struggle with knowing what to say…

They set their coat down on the back of their armchair, starting to get out of their shoes and over-garments.

The dog’s already flopped onto the bed, Maes pausing to listen to the sounds of him getting comfortable.

They sit on the edge of the bed, reaching over and feeling for him, rubbing their hand against his leg once they find it.

That tense feeling builds in their chest again.

There’s a pause as Charon thinks things over.

They lay back onto the bed with a sigh, scooting their body back to be closer to him.

I want…his comfort right now.
I want him to ease all this pain away…

They lay their head on his shoulder, nuzzling in.

Charon pulls them in for a hug, the karacel snuggling up with a soft purr.

That’s just right…

They roll over, the back of their shell completely tense to the touch. Charon presses his hands down gently, trying to scope things out.

A small smile creeps onto their face, anticipating his touch. He pushes down against a particularly sensitive point, enough to be felt even through all the tension.

A little noise escapes, Maes immediately burying their face. It wasn’t an uncommon reaction for them during these massages, the karacel unable to keep their voice down when he got just the right spots.

He continues on, doing his best to loosen their muscles up.

They make sure to press their face into the blankets to keep from making more little sounds, feeling more than a little embarrassed and...flustered.

The fact that this does this to me half of the time…
I’m sure he wouldn’t mind going a bit further…it’s not like we don’t do this kind of thing all the time.
One thing leading to another…

It wasn’t as if Maes had never thought about it before. They had read and listened to countless books about slime-based anatomy, even if their appearance was that of a near-completely normal karacel on the outside. Shifting certain aspects of one’s body was very possible…

[image id: a younger maes is standing in front of a backdrop of stars, planets, and galaxies, all with a retro pulp styling. their back is to the camera.]

Maes looks a bit more optimistic this week as they take their seat, leaving Charon room for his spot. The dog in question scoots into position and gives the construct a small wave.

Papaya sets aside their paperwork, audibly shuffling.

They reach over to take Charon’s hand.

The dog gently applies the adhesive onto Maes's temples.

Maes takes a deep breath.

You’ve done good so far. Just keep going.
This is a lighter one.

The room shifts toward a fairly neutral state, conditions evocative of the lower parts of the lab.

Papaya lets out a long sigh.

The corner of their mouth briefly twitches up.

They lean back, giving a sigh of their own.

They can't help but smile, just a little.

Charon can’t help but chime in.

There’s the faintest hint of excitement on their face.

Maes gives him a pleased nod before turning back to Papaya.

Maes can't help but smile more.

They smile again, this time less restrained.

[image id: a karacel standing boldly in a retro-inspired spacesuit, complete with bubble helmet and tight bodysuit. her figure is curvy and exaggerated, and the entire piece has a comic-like feel.]

Maes can tell without seeing that Synna hasn't looked up to address her, a memory of her hunched over textbooks as a teenager coming to mind.

She's always been like that. Buried in her work.

They had never minded, at least.

Her chair creaks as she leans back, finally turning to face Maes.

There's a smile to her voice, something that makes Maes feel a little warm inside.

"Their" chair sat a few feet away, pushed against the wall. It wasn't a particularly comfortable chair, but Synna had put in a cushion years ago, and even now, as they sit down on it-

It still fits my shape.

Maes lets out a noise halfway between a sigh and a laugh.

There's a comfortable silence between the two of them, Synna's chair creaking more as she rocks back and forth- another familiar tendency to Maes. Sometimes it meant she was nervous, sometimes it just meant she was thinking.

The chair creaks hard, Synna leaning way forward in it.

Synna's quiet for a moment.

Oh god, did I offer too much?
Is she- did I offend her somehow?
What if she doesn't want to-

There’s the sound of Synna shuffling plastic parts into a box, Maes’ ears flopping in surprise.

Oh god, she’s jumping right into it-!

Their growing stress over the sudden plan change freezes in its tracks, Maes processing Synna’s words slowly.

There’s a moment of silence aside from the robot pieces being put away, the box being slid into some kind of shelf.

When Synna speaks, it’s with some heaviness in her voice.

The words sting deep in Maes' chest, and they can tell Synna's bothered by their pained expression.

Synna thinks for a moment, tapping a pen against her desk.

Maes' ears perk right up.

Rifling through file cabinets, Synna grumbling as she tries to find the right folders.

The folder's placed in Maes' hand, the karacel feeling the label with their claws.

A GALACTIC ADVENTURE

They can't help but smile.

Maes nods, slowly opening the folder and letting their fingers glide.

Nebula, a brave and beautiful space traveller....

[image id: a memory of holding the scarred hand of a now deceased relative. the background is torn in texture and splattered with stains like blood spilled against shards of broken glass.]

Maes crosses their legs and sets their hands in their lap, looking...oddly distant.

I have to take this on today.
My mind won’t let me fucking sleep until I do.
I have to do this.
It’ll be.
It’ll be fine.

They let out a long exhale as they settled onto his lap, clasping their hands together.

From the sound of Papaya’s next words, they’re concerned.

Another deep breath.

There’s the sound of Papaya rustling with the headset, handing it over to Charon.

The dog carefully places the first sticky piece on Maes.

Maes can hear Papaya make an appreciative sound, causing the karacel to smile, albeit strained, in turn.

Charon finishes up with the headset, giving his partner a little pat on the shoulder.

They unclasp their hands and reach one over for him to hold.

He holds on.

They close their eyes.

They’ve already listened to so much.
I-
I don’t want to be too stressful to work with-
I don’t want to be too much.

…but I have to keep going.

The room shifts back, the air reminiscent of rooms and chambers from childhood. Whispers filled their ears, akin to the ones of various staff and interns afraid of invoking familiar wrath. Secret conversations of days of old echoed faintly.

Maes tenses up at the change, gripping Charon's hand.

They still remember her smile, the pleasant expression of someone who didn’t realize she was being lied to.

The echoes of the room shifts, dreadful footsteps through the hall leaking in, the chamber tightening its grip around them.

They spit the words out.

The conditions of the room become increasingly turbulent, a strong gust of air whipping through Maes’ hair.

A choke slips into their voice.

Charon squeezes their hand for comfort, Maes gripping it tight.

There’s a distinct crackle to the room now, one that would make anyone reconsider moving from the safety of their chair.

Papaya chimes in.

Fragments of Anya’s voice start to rise up all around them, incomprehensible but distinctly hers.

Maes' hair stands on end, but they press forward, as if their life depends on it.

The voices all stop.

The room's crackle seems to stop as well at that, the atmosphere still cold to bone chilling degree.

Their words come with complete conviction, enough to startle Maes themself.

They don’t speak.

After that…
Charon and I have talked about it from time to time.
But I-
This has been my entire life. Both the hell of it and then trying to fix things-
Is it even possible for there to be an end to it?

They hesitate, letting out one of their long, exhausted sighs.

Charon gives Maes' hand another little squeeze of comfort. They return it, not as tightly as earlier.

Papaya clears their throat.

The room’s tension fades away, Maes’ whole body unclenching.

[image id: a black and white profile shot of maes against a shattered cream background, as if broken glass that can't take the pressure of maes' day. maes is similarly strained, their face contorted into a pained grimace. the border of the piece is jagged, bringing the sense of fracturing home.]

The walk back to their apartment was silent, something to be expected after Maes' therapy sessions. This one, however, feels even more heavy, the session only a half hour prior hanging over both of them.

Maes unlocks the door to their apartment, and pauses, not ready to open it yet.

Their mind feels like it’s short circuiting, frayed around the edges.

They open the door and step through, collapsing their cane and setting it down in the usual space.

Maes can hear him following suit, the clanking of his prosthetics letting them know every step.

He settles into an armchair, exhaling.

They sit on the bed and start taking off their shoes, one strap at a time.

Their mouth turns to a grimace as their hands shake, a little noise of annoyance sneaking out.

Come on...you can do better than this.

They finally get the straps off, kicking off their shoes and laying back on the bed.

It’s-
I can handle this.
I c-
I can-

The dam breaks in their mind, unable to keep themselves from speaking up.

They dig their claws into the sheets, needing to grab onto something, anything as their words come out hard and strained.

Charon’s next words come out so soft that the contrast between their own nearly stings.

Charon stops them before they can get carried away.

They seem to lock up for a moment.

They seem to perk up for a moment, only to flatten back out, appearing to literally pool out into a deflated state from the stress.

They have to rub their temples at that, their voice coming out harsh and almost angry.

They reach out their arms, clearly angling for a hug in a much more direct way than usual.
Charon gets up and goes for it, holding on tight.

His embrace is warm, firm and grounding. It’s enough to get them to stop panicking, though their shaking takes a few minutes to quell.

[id: maes sitting on papaya's couch, grimacing and looking extremely strained. charon sits next to them, but nearly all of him, including his expression, is cast in dark shadow. the atmosphere is suffocating and claustrophobic, and something feels very wrong.]

They sink into their seat.

Maes turns to Charon just a little, unsure of whether to start. Charon reaches for their hand, the karacel taking his without hesitation.

They take his hand, holding it tight.

Papaya makes an affirmative noise.

Charon places the adhesive as carefully as usual.

Please don't be a weird environment. Please don't be weird.

To Maes’ relief, it’s fairly neutral to start, a lack of stimuli so far.

O...okay...Good.

Faint conversation builds in the back of the room.

Papaya says nothing, struggling to find words. With a twist of a dial, the room starts shifting back to neutral, the smell of cheap cologne and familiar voices fading just as they were starting.

They switch the dial back, all the senses returning. The air is stuffed with the texture of business suits, nearly suffocating.

Maes takes a deep breath before continuing.

The air seems to press against Maes' form, the karacel feeling their own sense of outline and shape. They tense up, a little self conscious at the sudden awareness.

Their words stutter out.

The pressure starts to shift around, fluctuating between tightness and a comforting looseness.

The words seem to almost choke out, Maes' face full of embarrassment.

The pressure loosens up dramatically.

Their face grows flushed.

Their body suddenly feels….looser, if only for a brief moment.

They swallow.

They hesitate for a moment before nodding.

The tiniest hint of a smile crosses their face.

They gesture to the headpieces.

It feels like an eternity as the room winds down, Maes letting out a long, slow breath.

It feels like I’ve run a marathon…

Maes lets Charon take the sticky pads off, laying there and getting their bearings. It’s a good few minutes before they stand up, taking their cane and giving Papaya an appreciative nod.

[id: a shot of the nightstand next to maes and charon's bed, a bit of sheets still in view. the nightstand has a few objects on it- maes' collapsed white cane, charon's family crest, and a photo that reflects the two of them in an intimate pose, maes on top of their partner.]


The room is quiet as Maes lay there, taking in the feelings of a nice dinner chased with a cozy movie. It was, for all intents and purposes, a perfect evening-

The dog chimes from across the room, snapping Maes out of their thoughts.

They pat the spot next to them, trying to stay calm and not bely their anxieties. Charon flops close to them and makes himself comfortable.

He always manages to pick up on this sort of thing…

They manage to wrap an arm around his shoulders, resting their head on him as they let out a sigh.

They sigh, rubbing their temple.

Their ears droop.

A..ah…

Their face flushes, enough to be noticed.

They can't help but smile, as self conscious as they are.

They get a bit of a coy look in their face.

He presses a hand to their stomach.

Oh, shit-

They let out a little, shaky breath.

He pushes down harder.

They sink into the bed, relaxing enough to allow their body to flatten a little bit.  

He follows along, Maes starting to purr and flatten out further.

They give him a soft expression, rubbing a hand against his cheek.

Charon smirks as he places his hand against their side, giving them a little squeeze.

They turn away, hiding their face in their hair.

They sigh hard, reaching for his hand for comfort.

They mumble something after, unintelligible.

Their face heats up all over, covering it with their free hand.

They smile, just barely visible under their hand.

They lean in to give him a little kiss on the cheek.

They lean in a little more, lingering this time.

They sit up all of a sudden, positioning themself over him and smiling wider.

They lower themself onto him with a soft nuzzle, doing their best to flatten out and spread out the pressure. Their body may have been significantly smaller than his, and thinner at that, but there was something about the way they tried to put all of their weight on him that felt...different, closer.

Like they weren't holding back.

He wraps his arms around them, his embrace comforting and familiar.

They carefully push themself against him, trying to further distribute the pressure.

They move their tail, laying it across their own back and flattening it to try and increase how much pressure and weight was bearing down on him. To their delight, they can feel him sinking further into the mattress, adjusting and getting more comfortable.

They grin for just a moment, shaking their head to compose themself.

They admit it almost shyly.

He pushes up against them, eager and without hesitation. They can tell that he’s having to work a little harder just to move underneath them, something that only makes them more excited.

He really is into this…

They move their tail a bit more, laying it more across their legs and hips to really center the weight on top of him.

They pause for a moment, reaching between them to pull down both of their clothes just enough to rub against each other directly.

Charon wraps his own legs around theirs at that, getting as close as he can.

They lean in for a hard kiss, Charon returning it passionately as he feels the distinct feeling of slime wrapping around him, right between his legs. It had taken some practice for Maes to get used to the new anatomy configuration, but now that they had the hang of it…

I want him so badly...I want to make him mine-

They move their hips more as they kiss him, getting lost in all the sensations. He can't resist feeling up wherever he can, squishing and squeezing down hard.

He continues on, Maes barely able to take it.

They sit up enough to unbutton and pull his shirt off of his shoulder, lunging in for a chomp. Charon braces himself for impact as Maes sinks their teeth in hard, grinding up even more as they bite down.

They lean in to kiss the fresh bite marks.

They can't help but grin.

[id: a cropped shot of maes' hand holding a white cane handle, surreal but saturated colors mottling the background.]

Today, Maes is looking more upbeat than usual- even sporting a small smile as they hold Charon's hand, waiting for Papaya to welcome the two of them in.

Charon makes sure to give Maes' hand a light squeeze.

Papaya doesn't take long to nudge open the door to their office.

Maes gives them a nod as they step inside, walking alongside Charon.

Papaya scoots toward their desk with a quick pace, taking a seat.

They take a seat, still holding onto Charon's hand.

Here goes…

Papaya gestures toward Charon to grab the headpieces. He carefully places them as usual, being extra gentle to avoid feeling intrusive. He sits himself down next to Maes.

Papaya flicks the switch.

They nod, getting comfortable.

The room has a disorienting feeling today, revolving around until the clock’s turned back, towards a lab of yesteryear. Familiar conditions fill the air, and there’s noise of scientists long since past, talking amongst themselves outside the room.

I’ve got this. I’ve done this therapy before, and I’ve talked to Charon about this topic.
This’ll be fine.

Maes tenses slightly, but remains still and collected.

Nights spent adjusting, learning how to navigate.

The feeling of a stolen white cane in their hand, gliding along the cracked floor tiles and detecting handmade obstacles, Synna cheering them on in a hushed, excited voice.

Reading and learning more and more from books that Lina had brought to the laboratory’s depths, about everything from the culture aboveground, how Precipice handled these disabilities- and the promise that if they just managed to get out of there, it would be okay.

That the world outside, at the very least, the place surrounding the lab, would accept them.
 
All of those treasures and hopes tucked away in a box that Lina found a perfect hiding spot for.

They nod, looking solemn.

Maes smiles briefly before continuing on.

They lower their head.

[id: maes and charon sitting at a restaurant table, a bowl of soup next to maes. the atmosphere is cozy and inviting, with maes looking charmed and relaxed as charon returns their loving expression.]

Maes takes a small sip of their soup, taking in the flavors- and the atmosphere of the restaurant during its slow hours, something they and Charon had discovered over the course of the past few months.

Nice and quiet.

Charon can't help but watch quietly, more than content to see Maes enjoying themself at the table.

It’s a few sips before they actually speak, resting their chin on one hand.

They can't help but smile at that.

They go quiet as they eat some more soup, thinking.


There’s so much to say, and yet…
I don’t feel confident in saying any of it.
What if it sounds stupid?
What if he doesn’t get it?
…
He…he loves me, though.
And he’d want me to try.

They reach a hand across the table.

He meets their hand.

The tiniest smirk crosses their face.

They finally pull their hand back, digging into their soup again.

They manage a smile, looking a little lighter.

[id: a black and white image featuring a silhouetted young maes kneeling on the ground, in front of a shattered window. the imagery is striking and abstract, the window seeming to overwhelm the image.]

Maes grips the handle of their cane tightly, walking into their therapist's office with Charon in tow.

Today's the day.

Noticing their mood, Charon gives them a little shoulder bump for comfort.

They keep their voice down to a whisper, taking a deep breath before sitting on the now very-familiar couch.

Papaya sits across as usual, putting aside some paperwork they were working on last minute.

The slightest smile creeps onto their face.

Charon does his job as usual, the process feeling much heavier this time than any before. He gives Maes a little pat on the shoulders before sitting back down next to them.

Papaya flicks on the switch.

Maes takes another deep breath.

The room crackled and snarled, twisting into a hallway, surrounded by fragments of gnarled and blood splattered chambers. A bubbling backing track hangs in the air, filled with a hymn of air conditioning.

They grip their thighs, just a bit.

It’s fine.
It’s fine, I can do this.
Just this one big push.

They nod, taking a moment to gather themself before continuing.

They tap the side of their head.

They take a deep breath.

The feeling of Anya’s “pearl” bracelets digging into their palms as they gripped their mother’s wrists.
The snarling and gnashing of teeth from the far larger parody, an unholy canine force to be reckoned with.

The silence as Anya fell, the uncertainty of it all- no screaming to indicate distance. No sounds of her hitting any surfaces.

Just quiet.

For what felt like hours.

They exhale, as if they'd been holding their breath this whole time.

Their claws are visibly digging into their legs.

The room restores to its neutral state, blank and without any outside noise.

They rub their temple, face scrunching up.

Maes is quiet for a moment, not saying a word in response, and letting their head hang.

They sniffle.

They feel around for Charon's hand.

Charon goes for a proper hug.

They bury their head in his shoulder, trying to hide the fact that they’re starting to cry. The dog does his best to comfort them as Papaya goes silent, unsure what to say.

They try to speak again after a few minutes, choking down a little noise of emotion before continuing.

A little smile sneaks on their face.

They exhale again, straightening out their back.

Maes stays still so Charon can remove the neurons, only moving to subtly brush their cheek against his hand before he moves away.

Papaya lets out a deep exhale.

[id: maes artag handing over a folder, with a slight smile on their face. the colors are warm, and inviting]

The karacel takes a long exhale as they finish pushing the cart inside, giving a wave to the attendant acting as sight guide on their way over.

Maes can hear Papaya picking up and taking a look through a folder- mostly skimming from the speed of which papers are being flipped- but getting a good gauge of what they had to work with.

They sift through the top box, letting their hands trace the touch script tabs before handing over a particularly thick one.

Papaya’s silent, presumably running their own fingers along the front.

It’s titled simply: "MAES ARTAG".

They can't help but smile, albeit softly.

They shake their head, their look softening further.

They pull their cane out of their coat pocket, extending it out to full length.

Even so, their smile doesn't fade- their expression simply turning bittersweet.