Atalanta Pendragonne

Chapter Three of Velveteen!

atalantapendrag — Thu, 08 Jan 2015 04:21:12 GMT

Velveteen (2543 words) by AtalantaPendragonne
Chapters: 3/?
Fandom: Welcome to Night Vale
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Janice (Welcome to Night Vale), Patrice (Welcome to Night Vale), Edmond (Welcome to Night Vale), Megan Wallaby, Steve Carlsberg
Additional Tags: Janice is Jewish, Janice is a wheelchair user, Chanukah fluff
Series: Part 3 of Matzoh Without Wheat
Summary:

Janice has a Chanukah sleepover.

I finally finished chapter three, in which our young protagonists exchange gifts.

Night Vale Chanukah fic!

atalantapendrag — Mon, 22 Dec 2014 11:30:42 GMT

I just posted the second chapter of this and I realized I hadn't posted the first one here yet!

Velveteen (1015 words) by AtalantaPendragonne
Chapters: 2/?
Fandom: Welcome to Night Vale
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Janice (Welcome to Night Vale), Patrice (Welcome to Night Vale), Edmond (Welcome to Night Vale), Megan Wallaby, Steve Carlsberg
Additional Tags: Janice is Jewish, Janice is a wheelchair user, Chanukah fluff
Series: Part 3 of Matzoh Without Wheat
Summary:

Janice has a Chanukah sleepover.

atalantapendrag — Sun, 02 Nov 2014 14:42:21 GMT

From Dust We Ascend Up (2742 words) by AtalantaPendragonne
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Welcome to Night Vale
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Intern Maureen/Michelle Nguyen
Characters: Intern Maureen (Welcome to Night Vale), Michelle Nguyen
Additional Tags: Domesticity, Sarcasm, Recreational Drug Use, Dealing With Trauma, Don't Drink Soap! Keep Out of Eye! Ok! Ok!
Summary:

Nowhere feels like home to Intern Maureen. There's only one person she can turn to. Set right after A Carnival Comes To Town.

atalantapendrag — Fri, 05 Sep 2014 20:02:23 GMT

I was semi-planning on getting a Hitch-Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy next month but I am really not feeling it and getting a tattoo you're not sure of is a bad idea. But I still want to get a special HHGttG thing, so if anyone sees ome nifty merch, link me? Thanks!

atalantapendrag — Mon, 09 Jun 2014 20:23:47 GMT

Memorial tattoo for Hecate, based on <a href="http://blog.earlfoolish.com/post/83101280166/theres-a-blinking-light-up-on-the-mountain-tinythis WTNV</a> fanart, done by Jorge at Amillion Tattoo.

atalantapendrag — Tue, 03 Jun 2014 07:27:52 GMT

My sweet Hecate... I just found her, very still. She could almost have been sleeping.

I love you, Hecate. I'll miss you so much.

atalantapendrag — Mon, 19 May 2014 15:24:57 GMT

Ooops, thought I already posted this here!

The ride to Cecil's apartment from the lab was a quick one. Janice seemed unsurprised that Carlos had a key. At the sound of the door, there was an echoing rumble from the bedroom that somehow managed to sound plaintive - Khoshekh had heard them enter and didn't want to be alone anymore. Without stopping to ask, Janice ran into the bedroom and came back holding Khoshekh, carefully avoiding the impressive spine ridges poking up through his ginger coat. A bandage still covered the empty place where one eye had been, but apart from that he was healing well. The rumble that passed for his purr filled the apartment.

"You love cats too?" Carlos asked, although it was obvious.

"I love most animals," Janice said, delicately scratching under Khoshekh's chin. His remaining eye closed and he tilted his head back in bliss.

It was an admirable trait, Carlos supposed, even if he could feel his eyes itching already. "I was thinking we'd save most of the ice cream for you and Cecil to have after dinner, but would you like to have a little bit now and watch some of the old version of Cosmos you've heard of?"

"The old Cosmos that Steve never saw?" Janice's eyes sparkled. "Yeah! And I can see the brand new one on Sunday!"

Since Janice had an armful of rumbling cat, Carlos scooped her a small bowl of ice cream before tracking down the thick DVD boxset. He'd been watching it with Cecil so it was easy to locate. He slipped the first disc into the player and sat down on the couch in time to see Khoshekh sniff the ice cream dubiously, steal a lick before Janice could stop him, and scrunch up his face with feline disdain.

Janice, however, was delighted with her treat. "It's so creamy and smooth! Thank you, Carlos. This is really good. I missed my favorite flavor so much. I still miss White Sand but this helps me remember it like it used to be."

Ouch. Carlos wasn't sure what to say to that. He patted her shoulder gently as he sat down on the couch. "You're welcome, Janice. I'm pretty sure everyone misses White Sand. Are you ready for Cosmos?"

"Oh, yes please!"

The tension evaporated as the show started. Carlos had been too young to really absorb the series when it first aired, but had checked out VHS copies from the library over and over again when he was a little older and bought it on DVD as soon as he could despite the price tag. It would be interesting to see what Janice thought of it. He was afraid she would find it a bit slow compared to the new series, but she was watching it with fascination, making brief comments ("Oooh, I like his voice", "His ship is so neat!") and then falling silent again.

Until they reached the bit about Eratosthenes.

"He was a librarian?" she shrieked in alarm.

Carlos paused the video. "I know how scary librarians are here," he said, trying to be reassuring. He'd had the same conversation with Cecil when they watched this together, but Cecil was older and a little more aware that not every place was the same as his hometown. "But in every other place I've been or even heard of, librarians are just people. They can be stern and if you make too much noise they will tell you to be quiet, but I've never heard of a librarian from anywhere but Night Vale hurting anyone. My word as a scientist. But he's going to talk about a whole library later. Do you want to watch something else instead? This isn't supposed to be scary and I don't want you to be upset."

Janice looked uncertain for a moment, then set her chin firmly. "I trust you. As a scientist. And librarians on TV can't hurt me. Especially ones that lived a long time ago."

"All right," he said, "I'm going to start it again, just let me know if you want me to pause it or stop it, okay?"

"Okay!" She seemed to have relaxed again. Khoshekh's thunderous rumble of a purr was a bit comforting, and he filled her lap, a good first line of defense against surprise librarians. She nodded firmly, and they continued watching the episode, occasionally pausing when Janice had a question. She gaped in astonishment at the animated mock-up of the Library of Alexandria. "That makes Marcus Vansten's fancy library look like a little shack!"

Carlos chuckled. "It does, doesn't it? And it was a lot more useful!"

There was the sound of a key in the lock as the credits were rolling and Cecil came in carrying a pizza. Carlos noticed the weariness and frustration in his eyes before his expression warmed and softened at the sight of Janice, Khoshekh, and Carlos waiting to welcome him home. Janice nudged Khoshekh off her lap and ran to hug him, barely giving him a chance to cross the threshold.

"I got to look in a microscope and Carlos made durian ice cream and we watched the old Cosmos that even Steve hasn't seen and Khoshekh sat in my lap and purred and purred!"

Cecil returned the hug one-handed. "You didn't see the one with that, um, place in Alexandria, did you?"

"I did, I did! Carlos explained to me that most librarians in other places are like ordinary people and I had an idea - a theory," she said with pride. "I think the librarians in Night Vale remember what happened to the Library of Alexandria and that's what makes them so dangerous."

Carlos was impressed - for all he knew she could be right. Possibilities were broader in Night Vale.

"It sounds like you're really picking up a lot of science! Do you want to watch another episode all together while we eat? I got half with grated carrots and walnuts, just for you."

"Thank you, Uncle Cecil!" She ran back to the couch, sitting firmly in the center of the couch. "Khoshekh too?"

"Khoshekh too," Cecil said fondly, "As long as Carlos doesn't mind."

Itchy eyes notwithstanding, Carlos couldn't bring himself to say no; he felt sorry for the injured animal and knew he enjoyed human company, and seemed to be enjoying Janice's adoring attention. He was pleased (and a bit relieved) that the other half of the pizza was eggplant and garlic, one of the few combinations on Big Rico's regular menu he really liked.

After setting the pizza on the coffee table, Cecil fetched plates, cups, and soda from the kitchen before Carlos could get up to help. "Is that a new outfit?" he called as he headed back into the living room. "It's cute."

"I needed new school clothes," Janice said in agreement. "It's kind of boring but at least the shirt is pink."

"It's a good thing you're with Uncle Cecil for the weekend then," Cecil said, passing out plates and cups and sitting on Janice's other side. He scratched the top of Khoshekh's head, eliciting another loud rumble. "We'll snazz those right up."

"Can we use the bedazzler? And the puffy paint?" She bounced in her seat excitedly.

"I wouldn't have it any other way!"

Pizza and Cosmos crowded together on the sofa was surprisingly comfortable and familial, and Carlos found himself enjoying it far more than he expected to. He tried a bite of carrot-and-walnut pizza at Janice's insistence (not as bad as durian, but nothing he wanted to eat again) and gave her a bite of eggplant-and-garlic in return. Khoshekh begged persistently for morsels and was given tiny morsels of cheese and crust to mollify him. Janice continued to be fascinated by Cosmos, although she frowned a little at Carl Sagan's mundane explanation of the Japanese samurai-faced crabs ("Couldn't they be guardian spirits too?"). Cecil agreed, and Carlos declined to argue. He was a lot more accepting these days. Carlos served up dessert. The delight on Cecil and Janice's faces was well worth the smell.

"I helped Carlos make this! He used science to make it and it was so cool!"

Cecil looked down at his bowl, impressed, and let the next bite melt in his mouth slowly. "It's really delicious! You must have been an awfully good helper."

"She was," Carlos agreed. And she had, stirring nice and evenly. She deserved credit for her part in the process.

By the time the ice cream was finished, Janice was glassy-eyed and yawning. Cecil sent her to change into her nightgown and Carlos helped him to put sheets and blankets on the couch so she'd have a place to sleep. While she was out of the room, Cecil stopped fighting as hard to keep the weariness out of his eyes. "Stay?" he asked quietly. "I'll make breakfast."

Carlos nodded, squeezing Cecil's hand.

Despite protests that she wasn't sleepy, not really, Janice was asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow. Khoshekh settled on her chest, his small nose touching her chin. Carlos and Cecil retired to the bedroom in unspoken agreement and lay in Cecil's comfortable bed, chastely spooning. Cecil pressed his face against Carlos' back, arms tight around his waist.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Carlos asked softly.

Cecil shook his head. "I'm just enjoying now," he murmured. "Thank you, for being kind to Janice. I can tell she likes you."

"I like her. I wouldn't mind watching her again. In fact..."

"Hmmmm?"

"When we get our new place. We should get a new couch, one that folds out into a bed. Or even a guest room. So she'll be more comfortable when she comes to stay."

Cecil kissed the back of Carlos' neck. "You have such good ideas."

And then all was quiet, the apartment a small oasis of peace.

atalantapendrag — Sat, 10 May 2014 18:19:08 GMT

Chapter Two of my Welcome to Night Vale fic, Durian Kisses!

Janice looked increasingly excited as they neared the lab, and Carlos couldn't help but return her eager smile. Making ice cream was going to be fun, but showing off the lab to a curious little girl was already making him feel proud.

"So, you like science?" he asked, pulling into a parking spot.

"Oh, yes!" Janice's face lit up. "I've been watching Cosmos and it's really neat. Steve says there was another Cosmos a long time ago but he never got the chance to see it so he's glad I get to watch it now."

Hunh - so Steve Carlsberg wasn't just some kind of ogre who denied little girls their favorite fruit. He lead her into the lab, expecting it to be empty, but Rebecca was there, bent over a microscope as usual. "Not going to Karaoke Friday?" That had become a kind of tradition among the scientists - one Carlos was always glad to find an excuse to avoid.

"Not until I live down trying to do a solo version of Bohemian Rhapsody," she said with a wry grin. Noticing Carlos wasn't alone, she straightened up and brushed ineffectually at a smudge on her labcoat. "Are you Janice?" she asked.

Janice nodded shyly, staring at the microscope in fascination.

Noticing her intent gaze, Rebecca grinned. "I'm Rebecca. Have you used a microscope before? Would you like to take a look?"

"Oooh, can I? I've only seen microscopes on TV. I mean - I mean it's nice to meet you and yes, please, I would like to look!"

Carlos took the durian from her without waiting to be asked and she dashed eagerly to get a look at and through the microscope. Rebecca adjusted the microscope to allow for a shorter observer. Janice practically bounced her way to where Rebecca stood.

"I like your necklace," Rebecca said, noticing the Star of David Janice wore on a delicate gold chain. "It's like mine, see?"

"Thank you," Janice said automatically, and then, "You're the one who showed Carlos how to make matzoh balls, aren't you? My uncle told me someone showed him how."

"Good deduction! You're right." Rebecca gave the girl a conspiratorial grin. "And you're the one who was selling the Chocolate Chip Shortbread cookies! I need to buy more next year, I thought I had plenty and I've almost finished them. But you don't want to talk about that, you want to see the microscope." She stepped aside, giving Janice plenty of room.

Even with the eyepiece lowered, Janice had to stand on her toes to look down into the microscope. "Wow," she breathed. "What is it?"

"It's a soil sample," Rebecca told her. "Or, really, a sand sample. I've been comparing samples from different locations."

"Hey, I think I see a piece of shed snakeskin!" The girl sounded delighted.

"Well spotted," Rebecca said, sounding honestly impressed. "It's not a big enough piece for me to be sure what kind of snake it came from but from the size, probably not very big. Are you interested in snakes?"

Janice looked up, beaming. "I have a snake. Her name is Tiffany. She's a Strawberry Amel corn snake."

"Carlos, you didn't tell me she was a budding herpetologist!" She looked at Janice with interest. "I know what corn snakes are, but I don't know what Strawberry Amel is. Is it a special kind?"

Janice was glowing with pride. "It's a special color morph. I have a book on corn snake color morphs but it's old so it doesn't say what genes make a Strawberry corn but amel is amelanistic." She pronounced the word with care. "She's pink."

Carlos was interested as well. "One of my college roommates had a corn snake he called a ghost corn. I don't know much about corn snakes either, does your book have those?"

Delighted, Janice nodded. "I saw pictures of them and they look cool! You get one by breeding an... anry... I can't pronounce it but they don't have any red color that regular corn snakes have. Anyway you breed it with a hyp.. hypomelanistic snake. So it has the pattern of a regular corn snake but faint and on a pale background." It was clear she had no doubt the two scientists would know the terms she'd learned.

Babysitting was turning out to be more fun than Carlos had expected. He hadn't spent all that much time around kids and it would be nice to be able to praise Janice's intelligence to Cecil. "It sounds like you really paid attention to that book! I bet learning about different kinds of corn snakes would be a good way to get familiar with genetics. Do you want to spend more time looking at the microscope or do you want to start making ice cream?"

Janice looked torn for a moment, but they'd had a mission she was looking forward to completing. "Thank you Rebecca," she remembered to say, before running to Carlos' side. "Can we make the ice cream now?"

He'd assembled everything they'd need while Janice was talking to Rebecca. The durian looked like it would take a machete to open. Fortunately, they kept a few in the lab; Night Vale had no shortage of things that needed to be fended off. "Janice, is there a special way to cut this open?"

She was looking at the machete with admiration. "You could cut it open really quick with that! I got a knife when I joined the Girl Scouts but it takes a lot longer. You can just hack it in half."

It sounded simple enough. Carlos swung the machete, and the feel of the durian giving way was viscerally satisfying. Then he started to smell it. The odor was foul, like the liquid at the bottom of a dumpster full of rotting onions. "Augh - I'm sorry, Janice, this one must have gone bad-"

"That's what durian is supposed to smell like," she said happily.

"That's durian all right," Rebecca called from her microscope. "My ex-boyfriend was a big fan of the stuff."

"Is your uncle Cecil going to be all right with this in his apartment?" Carlos was beginning to understand why Steve Carlsberg would object to the stuff.

"Uncle Cecil loves durian," Janice said happily. "I wouldn't know about it if he hadn't let me try some." She pinched a bit of the soft yellowish interior and lifted it to her mouth happily. The texture looked a bit like soft cheese. "Are you going to try some?"

"Do it for science!" Rebecca teased, without looking up from the microscope.

Cursing Rebecca in his thoughts, he forced a smile. "I probably should, if it's a favorite of Cecil's," he said, and took hold of the slippery stuff. It smelled much stronger up close. With an effort of will, he put it in his mouth, and the rotting-onion odor became a rotting-onion taste.

It must have showed on his face. "You don't like it," Janice said sadly.

"More for you and Cecil," Carlos said cheerfully. "Let's make this ice cream." He'd assembled the ingredients and tools while she'd been talking to Rebecca. "You pour in the sugar and I'll add the cream, then I'll put in the vanilla and you can put in the durian."

They mixed everything in a big metal bowl and then Carlos handed Janice a pair of safety goggles and thick gloves. "Now it's time to add the cold," he said. This part would be fun.

Eyes wide and curious, Janice put on the goggles and gloves. "What are we going to do?"

"Liquid nitrogen," Carlos told her, gratified by her awed expression. "I'll need you to keep stirring and I'll pour it in slowly. Does that sound okay? Just keep stirring and don't stop until I say."

She nodded eagerly, the goggles hiding her face, and began stirring. Carlos donned goggles and gloves as well and picked up the insulated metal cylinder he'd prepared earlier. Opening it carefully, he poured the clear liquid into the bowl, clouds of cold vapor billowing up around them.

"This is so cool!" Janice gasped, but remembered to keep stirring. "I heard about liquid nitrogen on TV but I never thought I'd see it. This is gonna be the most awesome ice cream ever!"

Her reaction was gratifying, and Carlos realized he was enjoying babysitting. "It's certainly the quickest way to make it," he said diplomatically, never wanting to taste durian again. The liquid nitrogen poured, he nodded in approval. "Let's pack it up now and go to your uncle's place. I think I have a nice surprise for you."

atalantapendrag — Sun, 04 May 2014 16:18:37 GMT

Chapter 1 of my new WTNV fic! It'll probably be about 3 chapters. Carlos babysits Janice!

Cecil hadn't told Carlos about Janice until she'd asked him to help her sell all those Girl Scout cookies. It had been a bit of a shock, but ultimately Carlos was relieved to know that keeping quiet about some things on the air was something Cecil was used to. It was a good precedent for every detail of their domestic life not being broadcast to the town once they finally got their place together.

And he'd made up for it in the meantime with an avalanche of anecdotes and photographs. Carlos wasn't sure how much of Cecil's praise was the doting hyperbole he tended towards, but the pictures showed a pretty child with a strong family resemblance to her uncle, with tidy cornrows and rich brown skin a few shades darker than Cecil's. She looked a bit wary in most group pictures but had a wide and lively grin in the solo pictures. Star of the collection was a professional portrait of Janice in her Girl Scout uniform, apparently trying her best to look dignified and grown-up.

Cecil's sense of timing could be a bit unfair. Downright diabolical, really. It was at the end of an extremely pleasant evening, when Carlos felt good all over and relaxed to the edge of sleepiness, that he chose to ask for a favor.

"I hate to ask," he said in his smoothest tones, "I especially hate to ask you. Normally I'd have asked Dana, or Old Woman Josie..."

Carlos flinched. This was already sounding bad. And probably hard to refuse.

"I'm taking care of Janice this weekend, but I have a meeting at the station when I need to pick her up, and I'm afraid it's likely to run late." A growl lurked under Cecil's calm voice as he mentioned the meeting, and Carlos suspected it would be an unpleasant one. "Would... my Carlos, my dearest Carlos, would you look after her for a few hours? I'll bring home dinner for the three of us after the meeting."

It was as bad as he feared, and he couldn't really refuse. Well, Janice was important to Cecil, which meant she was going to be in Carlos' life too. Looks like it was time to start. "Yes, but I don't know how good of a babysitter I'll be. When and where do I need to pick her up?"

Cecil's glowing smile almost blotted out Carlos' misgivings.

Friday afternoon saw Carlos in front of Night Vale Middle School, trying to spot the girl he'd only seen in pictures. He scanned the crowd of children anxiously, not seeing the face he was looking for until almost all the young citizens of Night Vale had dispersed. That was when he spotted her, lingering anxiously, and felt a sudden rush of sympathy. Of course she's nervous, probably much more nervous than you are. He waved and smiled, a smile he hoped would be friendly and reassuring. She looked just like her photos, although he hadn't expected quite so much pink - her sneakers, polo shirt, and backpack were all almost-matching shades of it. She took a hesitant step toward him.

"Janice?" he said, hoping he sounded welcoming. "We haven't met yet, but I know Cecil told you I'd be picking you up today. I'm Carlos, and I'm glad to meet you." He held out a hand to shake.

She approached him with a determined stride and looked at him a bit warily, but shook the offered hand. "Uncle Cecil talks about you all the time. I'm glad I can find out about you directly." When he didn't seem fazed by that, she smiled.

Well, that was encouraging. "We have a few hours to fill, would you like a snack? We could go to the Pinkberry-"

"No!" Janice said fiercely, then looked a bit embarrassed at the outburst. "I'm sorry, I... I used to go to White Sand every Friday. That was the day they made my favorite flavor and now it's gone and I'm not going to Pinkberry ever."

Shit. The outburst had startled him but it made perfect sense. And there was something he'd been planning to surprise Cecil with that might be an even better treat for Janice. "What flavor do you like? I can make ice cream."

"They used to make durian ice cream on Fridays," she said sadly. "There's a place in town that sells whole durian but Steve doesn't let me eat durian in the house, and I can't buy anything there anyway because I get my allowance in Strex scrip now and they still just take cash."

Carlos wasn't quite sure what durian was - it was a fruit, wasn't it? - but this was a problem he could solve. "I still get paid in cash," he told her gently. "I can buy durian to make ice cream with. Can you show me how to get to the store?"

The store, once they reached it, turned out to be a tiny Asian market. Janice ran straight to the produce section and came back cradling what looked like a spiked wooden football.

"That looks like it would make a good siege weapon," Carlos said, but her wide grin was infectious. "You'll have to show me how to open it."

The durian sat in the car as they strolled through Ralph's to get the rest of the ingredients. At the register, Janice pulled a handful of Strex scrip - clearly her allowance, and said, "Because you bought the durian," firmly, as if expecting an argument.

And it was Carlos' first instinct to argue, but her determined expression was so like Cecil's, and she was right, he had bought the durian. So he smiled, and nodded. "That's fair enough."

"The stuff I need to make ice cream is in the lab, so we'll be going there," Carlos said as they got back into the car. "You don't mind that, do you?"

"I get to see the lab?" Janice was grinning unguardedly now. "That's so cool! Do you have microscopes and Bunsen burners and safety goggles and... and everything?"

"Not everything," Carlos said, unable to hold back a pleased chuckle, "But we have a lot of neat stuff, and I'll show you how some of it works if you like."

atalantapendrag — Tue, 18 Mar 2014 06:49:45 GMT

atalantapendrag — Tue, 18 Mar 2014 02:03:03 GMT

atalantapendrag — Sun, 16 Mar 2014 04:23:21 GMT

I haven't had the focus for journals lately. Hopefully I'll be back in the game soon. In the meantime, here is a Welcome to Night Vale fluff fic!

Cecil had a lot of knick-knacks.

It wasn't the first time Carlos had spent the night at Cecil's apartment, but it was the first time he'd been first to wake. He was too restless to stay in bed, but he didn't want Cecil to wake up and find him gone. And it was an excuse to look around. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but it hadn't been a set of matryoshka dolls depicting rather more internal anatomy than usual, a shimmering feather from no bird he could identify, and various carved figurines that seemed to squirm if he looked at them too closely. Some seemed almost mundane, large crystals and a Venetian glass paperweight and a small candelabra -- no, a second glance and Carlos realized it was a menorah. Hunh.

Not wanting to be caught snooping and feeling a little bad for leaving Cecil alone in bed, he decided to fix breakfast. Soon the kitchen was filled with the smells of coffee brewing and eggs frying, rapidly followed by the padding of bare feet. Carlos looked up with a sheepish smile.

"I was feeling fidgety and wanted to let you sleep, so I decided to cook for us." He rolled his eyes at himself inwardly for stating the obvious like that.

Cecil beamed at him sleepily. "Sweet Carlos, so thoughtful," he murmured, making a beeline for the coffee. He claimed a slow, lazy kiss, then stirred in sugar as he took a seat at the cramped-for-two table.

Carlos joined him a moment later with the eggs and for a few minutes they ate in comfortable silence, sunlight filling the small kitchen. Their plates occasionally clinked together.

Cecil's features grew more animated as the coffee worked its way into his system. "Just the way I like them," he said around a mouthful of over-medium.

"I time it by how long it takes for the smell of coffee to wake you up." He sipped his own more slowly, nibbling at his eggs, enjoying the coziness of breakfast for two. Carlos enjoyed watching Cecil wake up. It was a gradual process, even aided by the Tanzanian Peaberry Cecil favored.

"Science in action, Carlos?" He was awake enough now to grin teasingly.

"What kind of scientist would I be if I couldn't learn by observation?" He smiled sheepishly. "I couldn't help looking around a little. Is that a menorah on your bookshelf? I didn't realize you were Jewish." It was the simplest thing to ask about. Some of the statuettes had hurt to look at.

Cecil looked pleased by his interest rather than annoyed by his prying, and smiled a little wistfully. "Not really. My mother was, that was hers. Even she wasn't really practicing, especially after that seder when I was eight... I do miss her matzoh ball soup, though."

Well, if Cecil wanted matzoh ball soup, Carlos would have to make sure he got some. Thankfully, he had someone to ask.

"You're right," Rebecca said, not looking up from the soil sample she was studying through a microscope. "Matzoh's got wheat. You won't find it in Night Vale. But yeah, they make a gluten-free version now." She shook her head. "Not that they sell it here, of course. Finally there's all sorts of gluten-free stuff on the market, and the Ralph's here doesn't bother carrying them. I thought I was gonna have it easy for a change."

"Does that mean I won't be able to get any?" Carlos frowned. He'd been hoping to make a nice surprise of it.

Turning away from the microscope, she took some notes with a stylus on a wax tablet. "Mail order," she said with a grin. "So the Voice of Night Vale is a nice Jewish boy, hmmm? All right, all right, I'll teach you how to make matzoh ball soup... if you get that centrifuge sterilized for me. And don't blame me if he says his mother's was better."

Carlos thought it may have been an abuse of power to delegate the tedious chore instead of doing it himself, but he didn't let it stop him. He had a cooking lesson. Rebecca's kitchen was even smaller than Cecil's, but they were used to moving around each other in the confines of the lab. "You're lucky," she told him, taking a box out of the cupboard and eggs from the refrigerator. "I just stocked up, and I like having matzoh ball mix in the house."

He stayed out of her way as best he could as she laid out a bowl and a big pot. She passed the box ('Streit's Gluten-Free Matzoh Ball Soup Mix') to him and he duly began reading the directions. They sounded simple enough.

"Right," she said, "Get mixing."

"I thought you were teaching me how?"

"You can mix eggs, oil, and matzoh meal without me holding your hand every step of the way," Rebecca told him with a wry grin. She handed him a set of measuring spoons. "Put in a smidge of salt and pepper while you're at it. About what you'd use for the same amount of mashed potatoes."

And it wasn't hard, really, just blending the three ingredients into a sort of grainy batter while Rebecca put a big pot of water on the stove. "What do I do now?"

"Now we put it in the fridge while the water boils." She pulled another bag from a cupboard and tossed it at Carlos. "See if you can use your influence with the Voice of Night Vale to get him to convince the Ralph's to start stocking it."

"Pamela's Bread Mix," he read from the label. "Gluten-Free, Wheat-Free, Non-Dairy." He gave her a dubious glance. "Any good?"

"Better than you'd think." Rebecca gave him a wry grin. "It helps if you can bake, but I can still turn out a decent loaf with it." The conversation turned to recent experiments as Carlos read the label of the bread mix, then she glanced at the pot of water, just starting to boil, and at her watch, and retrieved the bowl from the fridge. "Now's the trickiest bit. Run your hands under the faucet, they'll need to be wet for this."

Doing as he was told, Carlos waited for the next step. He watched Rebecca deftly take a small amount of the mixture, deftly roll it into a small ball, and drop it into the now-boiling water.

"You just roll it into a ball about an inch across," she told him. "The trick is to do it quickly, handle it as little as possible. That way they come out nice and fluffy. Then they go in the pot."

Carlos kept a close eye on how Rebecca was forming the little balls even as he tried to concentrate on making his own. Handle it as little as possible, he kept firmly in mind as he shaped the grainy batter into small spheres. The first one fell apart as it hit the water.

"You can handle them a little more than that," Rebecca told him with a teasing laugh. With two people, it was quick work forming the mixture into balls, and the rest of Carlos' efforts maintained their structural integrity. After they were done, Rebecca put a lid on the pot and turned down the heat. "Now we just let them simmer for twenty minutes."

While they simmered, Carlos gave the bread mix label a closer look. There were all sorts of recipes on it. "Have you tried all of these?"

"I tried the bagels," Rebecca said, shaking her head. "I couldn't get them to come out right but that could just be me. I'm a pretty indifferent cook most of the time."

"If Cecil wants bagels he can make them himself," Carlos laughed. "But I might try my hand at bread. I've missed bread." He fumbled for things to say; Rebecca was a reliable colleague but they had never really socialized.

She wasn't very good at small talk either, but didn't seem to mind sitting in companiable silence while their matzoh balls finished cooking. Still, it was a relief when the kitchen timer went off and Rebecca spooned the matzoh balls into bowls of chicken broth. They had grown considerably in cooking, and looked vaguely like beige meatballs. She carried them to the table in her apartment's modest living room and set them down. "Ready to taste your handiwork?"

Carlos sat at the table and looked at the unfamiliar dish dubiously. Some were a bit smaller and rounder, others were larger and slightly more irregular - presumably the 'nice and fluffy' Rebecca had touted as the ideal. He raised his spoon and glanced at her questioningly.

"Eat, eat, you don't need an engraved invitation," she said, grinning. She spooned a bite of one of the rounder, denser balls into her mouth, chewing it thoughtfully. "Not bad for a first try. My aunt's aren't any better."

Carlos started with one of the 'nice and fluffy' ones. It was starchy and mild with a light texture, and went well with the chicken broth. Now he knew what he was aiming for, he tasted one of his own efforts. It wasn't bad, but he could tell why the fluffier ones were superior; for one, they seemed to pick up more of the chicken broth flavor. "So I just need to use a bit less pressure shaping them? How much practice do you think I need?"

"Oh, Carlos, yours are servable right now! Some people even like them better dense. I think Cecil's lucky you're willing to put so much effort into learning." Rebecca grinned and ate another of the matzoh balls Carlos had made. "You got the salt and pepper just right."

The next evening Carlos slipped out of the lab early and made sure he had eggs and oil and a can of chicken soup (Rebecca had been kind enough to give him a packet of the matzoh ball mix on the condition he order her another package) before he used his key to sneak into Cecil's apartment while he was at work. He already knew where all of Cecil's kitchen tools were, so getting a mixing bowl and a big pot and various utensils was easy, even enjoyable. Rebecca was no ass-kisser so if she said his matzoh balls were up to snuff, she could be trusted, and he could look forward to surprising Cecil.

He listened to the radio while he worked. Cecil wasn't on yet, so there should be plenty of time. It was easy, even without Rebecca to guide him. Whisking together the eggs and oil, mixing in the matzoh meal and salt and pepper, it seemed more familiar than it should, as if he'd done it many times before. Maybe the kitchen remembers, he thought. It was whimsical and utterly unscientific, but in Night Vale there might be something to it. He set the mixture in the fridge and put the water up to boil. Cecil still wasn't on yet so he still had plenty of time.

When the big pot of water started boiling, Carlos started shaping the balls, remembering not to make them too dense. Again there was a strange sense of having done this many times before. Cecil was on the air already; he should be home just in time. The chicken soup bubbled in the saucepan and Carlos was gratified to see that his matzoh balls looked much more like Rebecca's than his first attempt.

Cecil's voice caught his attention. "And now, the weather."

Carlos squeaked, he hadn't realized it was so late. He spooned chicken soup and matzoh balls into the biggest serving bowl he could find and balanced it on the table, setting a spoon and a small dish at each place. By the time Cecil got home it should be cooled enough to eat. And this was a special meal, or at least Carlos was determined to make it one. He got out the cloth napkins and the cutlery that matched.

He lost time of how long he'd been admiring his handiwork when he heard the key in the lock.

"Oh!" Cecil sounded startled but not displeased. "I wasn't expecting a home-cooked meal, this is a lovely -" As he entered the kitchen, Carlos had a perfect view of Cecil's face. When he saw the bowl of matzoh ball soup his eyes lit up with delight before his features twisted with anxiety. "Carlos, please don't tell me you bought contraband wheat just to - "

"It's fine." He crossed the small kitchen and wrapped his arm around Cecil's waist. "I got some help from one of my colleagues. She couldn't eat wheat before we came to Night Vale, so she's an old hand at finding substitutes."

"Well since you cooked, I'll serve," Cecil said, smiling as he ladled the soup into bowls. It was still steaming hot and Carlos was pleased to see that the matzoh balls looked almost as fluffy as Rebecca's. "It smells wonderful."

"I hope it tastes as good," Carlos said as they sat down, trying to mask a flutter of nerves. Maybe he should have made another trial batch or two? But it was too late now; Cecil was already taking a bite. "Rebecca warned me that you'd probably think your mother's were better."

Cecil's eyes were wide, and a bit damp. He smiled broadly as he swallowed. "Carlos, it's been so long since I've had matzoh balls... these are just as I remember them."

"I'm glad they came out well." Carlos blushed, and hurriedly changed the subject. He didn't feel he'd merited such praise. But it was good, and they ate quickly.

As they stood side-by-side at the kitchen, Cecil leaned close to Carlos, kissing his cheek. "So what do I get to make for you?"

That was easy. Carlos pointed at the bread mix on the counter. Since they both had the day off, this would be perfect. "Fresh bread. Toast. Breakfast in bed."

Cecil made a face and blew some suds at Carlos, but he laughed. "I think that's more than fair."

Joyous Solstice, everyone!

atalantapendrag — Sat, 21 Dec 2013 16:37:19 GMT

atalantapendrag — Fri, 20 Dec 2013 18:17:39 GMT

So at anderyn's recommendation, I got the new Steeleye Span/Terry Pratchett album WINTERSMITH. Three songs in and I am IN LOVE.

Also, I saw some clips of the Welcome to Night Vale live recording with the new voice actor for Carlos and I am delighted. He's a good addition to the show.

atalantapendrag — Thu, 19 Dec 2013 17:18:06 GMT

I really really want to nap but I am expecting deliveries from UPS and FedEx so I can't fall asleep DAMMIT.

atalantapendrag — Tue, 17 Dec 2013 15:19:31 GMT

Just filled out my lease renewal paperwork. My hands are shaking so much. Official Important Paperwork terrifies me!

atalantapendrag — Mon, 09 Dec 2013 11:42:42 GMT

I pretty much literally slept all weekend. Dreading clinic today, maybe I will be lucky and it will be canceled because of the weather.

Let's see if I can manage a couple of sentences on my fic before then.

atalantapendrag — Sat, 07 Dec 2013 06:15:08 GMT

28.6 F in Austin right now. Brrrr. I was very lucky and my caseworker drove me to my doctor's appointment this morning, because the office opened late because of the nasty weather and if I'd taken the bus as usual I would have shown up and it would have been closed. As it is I saw a nurse practitioner who was super thorough and went over my last blood test results in detail and spotted some thyroid weirdness. So Synthroid and Paxil are being added to my medication cocktail.

I am still managing at least a sentence a day on my Welcome to Night Vale fluff fic. Even on the stressiest days this week I managed at least a sentence. This, I can be proud of.

atalantapendrag — Thu, 05 Dec 2013 16:14:25 GMT

Managed the Section 8 Renewal meeting with a minimum of fuss, but spent a painful amount on cabfare (it's not on a bus line). Dreading the doctor's appointment tomorrow morning, but my caseworker says he'll give me a ride.

And I can add matzoh balls to food I have to shut Hecate in the bedroom to be able to eat in peace.

atalantapendrag — Tue, 26 Nov 2013 11:29:22 GMT

The therapists at the clinic are happy with me. They're pleased that I've been able to make it in for six weeks in a row, impressed by my comfort box, glad to hear I am actively writing. I could feel myself slipping into putting-up-a-good-front mode, which is really not helpful. Social pressure interfering with treatment, yay. So much pressure to be "normal", to be "fine", and I can fake it for a few hours but it's taxing. And it's so ingrained that I can't always control it.

And I can even relax after getting through Thanksgiving; in addition to Monday morning at the clinic, I have to go to my Section 8 renewal meeting on Wednesday, and I have to go in for a meds check early on Friday. Ugh.

atalantapendrag — Mon, 25 Nov 2013 01:59:56 GMT

I wrote multiple paragraphs today. Short ones, but still. For me, it was a lot of progress.

Still a bit overwhelmed by the Doctor Who anniversary. It's meant so much to me for so long.

atalantapendrag — Mon, 18 Nov 2013 03:14:28 GMT

Well, I'm squeezing the words out painfully, a few sentences a day (literally, it's agonizing), but my Welcome to Night Vale fic is in progress. It's already very fluffy and will only get fluffier. The end of the most recent episode is certainly inspiration for fluff!

atalantapendrag — Tue, 05 Nov 2013 23:27:36 GMT

My therapist says I am making progress. I've been managing to force myself in on Monday morning all of October without absences. She says she can tell I'm working hard.

I feel worse than ever.

I've decided to try to make a comfort box. I already know I am going to put in some scented lotion, maybe candles and incense, my signed copy of ANANSI BOYS, maybe some soothing music on a thumbdrive, and some melon gummis from the Pan-Asian market. The point is to have things that will be grounding, comforting, and engage all the senses. I'm totally open to sugestions, coming up with ideas is not my strong suit lately.

One thing that I would like to put in the box is letters, messages of friendship and encouragement I can pick up and read when I'm in a really bad place. If it's a textured paper or a card with cute or inspiring art all the better. If you feel like writing me, just send a private message and I'll give you my address with gratitude.

I don't have a good way to end this, I'm pretty brainfoggy, but I hope good things are coming for all of you.

atalantapendrag — Sun, 03 Nov 2013 21:59:13 GMT

Well, I had a deeply miserable October, but thanks to the weather, my electric bill is the lowest I've ever had.

A day late!

atalantapendrag — Sat, 02 Nov 2013 01:52:48 GMT