KoblScribl

“And there before you, unaware of your presence and standing in the mire of the Moonlit Swamp, was the quarry your party has been hunting for the past week – the Hydroodra.”

A small gray-and-black lizard-like pokémon stood on the table, his last dramatic gesture lingering over the top of his GM screen. The salandit jumped over the barrier – he needed to stand on his back legs just to see over it – and placed an unpainted gray figurine of a five-headed goodra onto the play map. One head for each of his players.

For a moment, the table went quiet – not from uncertainty, but from recognition, as Alexei scampered back to his side of the screen.

“Oh finally!” Tali said first, the taillow shifting her weight where she perched along the back of her chair, wings giving a small, unconscious flutter as she leaned in. “I was wondering when we were actually going to run into this thing.”

Rook didn’t bother pretending to be cautious. The torracat leaned forward immediately, one paw braced against the table as he looked down at the miniature with open interest. “Okay, yeah, that actually looks really cool.”

“Of course it’s in a swamp,” Tess muttered, though the bunnelby didn’t look up at the creature itself, her attention already pulled to the terrain instead. One of her ears flicked back in mild irritation.

King huffed under his breath, a quiet amused sound as he settled more comfortably into his wide seat – meant for larger pokémon, but perfect for a stocky skiddo. “You expected something else? Alexei’s been hinting at it living in a swamp since last session.”

Two sessions… Alexei corrected silently, even though he was pleased that his players were paying attention.

“I was hoping we’d catch it outside of its lair, yes.” Tess sighed.

Ilan didn’t move. The meowstic remained still, gaze fixed just beyond the figure on the board rather than on it, as if the version of the creature in front of them was only part of the whole. “It’s not alone,” he said.

Alexei cocked an eye-ridge at that, not sure how the meowstic had come to that conclusion, but looked down at the minion miniatures he had behind the screen for when the Hydroodra did activate its lair actions.

Rook snorted. “Yeah, I mean, I’d hope so, we’re level 50. We can wreck most things that come at us solo.”

Tess jumped in surprise at that, shouting across the table, “DO NOT tempt the GM please, Rook. I do not want to have to face a legendary.”

Alexei gave an evil smirk, just to add fuel to the fire. He let them squabble a bit as he looked down at everything arrayed around him behind the screen – combat notes for the Hydroodra and its minions, miniatures yet to be revealed, a few notes on everyone’s backstory – not necessary for this encounter, but good to have just in case – multiple sets of dice, including ones with a psyduck floating in them that made him blush every time he looked at it, and a notebook with his notes on the story thus far.

He grabbed the notebook, looking over the hints he had planted in the monster’s lair to progress the plotline.

Wonder if they’re going to pick up on them. Ilan and King probably, but the rest…

He grinned wryly behind his notebook.

“Yo, Alexei, can we?”

He jerked slightly, looking up at Rook, who looked expectantly at him. The salandit ran the conversation he’d only been half-listening to back through his head before responding.

“Yeah, of course you can try to get the jump on it. Just know it does have five heads, and well – that means five pairs of eyes and ears.”

Rook grinned immediately, “Okay so I’m just going in-“

“No, you’re not,” Tess cut in.

“I just need to get there first,” Rook shot back, already reaching for his miniature.

“You are not getting anywhere first in that,” Tess said. “You’re going to get stuck halfway in.”

Aaaand there it is, by the Three, another argument about difficult terrain…

“I won’t get stuck.”

“You are in a swamp and wearing heavy armor.”

“I’ll roll well.”

Yeah, good luck with that.

Tess’s ear flicked. “At disadvantage?”

Exactly.

“Okay, hold on,” Tali cut in before it could spiral further, leaning forward over the table. “We don’t send just him. We all go in together – spread out so it can’t just focus on one of us.”

“It can still hit more than one of us,” Tess said. “That doesn’t fix anything.”

“It fixes him dying immediately.”

“I’m not going to die immediately.”

“You’re going to get stuck,” Tess repeated.

King exhaled quietly, shifting where he sat. “We don’t have to rush it.”

Rook glanced over. “Then what, we just stand there?”

“We don’t have to be that close,” Ilan said.

There was a brief pause.

Rook frowned, tail giving a small flick. “That sounds like standing there.”

“It isn’t,” Ilan said. “We make it come to us.”

“…Through the swamp?” King asked, lifting his head slightly.

“Yes.”

“That slows it too,” Tess muttered.

King nodded once. “Okay. That’s actually not bad.”

“So we wait,” Rook said, rolling his eyes.

“That’s still better than you getting grabbed in the mud,” Tess replied.

“It’s not waiting,” Ilan said. “It’s choosing where it ends up.”

Alexei tapped one claw lightly against his notebook. They were, somehow, getting a solid plan. He hadn’t planned for them to try and draw it out, but with the right rolls, weeeeell… maybe they could make it work.

There was a pause after Ilan spoke – not a long one, not anything that would have registered to someone outside of it, but enough for the shape of the plan to settle between them. It wasn’t clean. It wasn’t unanimous. But it was close enough.

Rook looked like he still wanted to argue it.

Of course he did.

“…I still think I could take it,” he muttered, more to the table than anyone in particular, though he was already reaching for his miniature like the decision had been made regardless of what anyone else said.

Tess didn’t even bother looking at him. “You can think that.”

That, at least, seemed to be enough to settle it.

Alexei let the moment sit for just a second longer, watching the way their attention shifted – not to him, not exactly, but to the space in front of them. To the map. To the pieces. To the version of the swamp that only existed because he said it did.

“Alright,” he said, straightening slightly behind the screen, one claw tapping idly against the edge of his notebook. “So that’s what you’re doing?”

There were glances – quick, wordless confirmations passed between them. Tali nodded first. King followed, slower, but certain. Rook hesitated, just long enough to make it clear he wasn’t entirely convinced, before committing anyway. Ilan sat there, smiling, as they accepted his plan.

Alexei smiled faintly, just enough that they could hear it in his voice even if they couldn’t see it from behind the screen.

“Alright,” he repeated. “Let’s see how that goes for you.”

And just like that, the tone shifted as it always did.

His players knew that he was merciless when it came to combat, and expected it from him. There was no ‘rule of cool’ at his table, just hard numbers. Some GMs fudged their dice for the sake of the story. Not him. He could always shoehorn another character into the party if one of them died – and they did, from time to time – but at his table? Combat was sacred.

Which meant consequences were, too.

And consequences, there were.

Ilan’s cleric was out of spell slots by the end of the encounter, and the Hydroodra managed to get out one final breath attack, which hit Tali’s wizard at full power. A couple of bad rolls later and they were officially dead, and with a heartfelt goodbye that Alexei made up on the spot, referencing those character notes – good thing he kept them available! – he ended the session.

The group hung out a bit, discussing what was awesome and jokingly complaining that Alexei was a harsh GM, to which he let the comments slide off his scales. They knew how he was and they kept coming back. If they had real complaints, they’d talk to him.

“Hey, Tali,” he started, looking at the taillow as she swept her dice into her satchel with a wing. “Don’t forget to send me some details on what you want your new character to be, yeah?”

Before she could respond, Rook chimed in with a chuckle, “Try to make your next one not so squishy, please.”

“Soooorry that I’m the only one that has any utility spells in the party, Rook. Maybe you’ll die next and then you might actually choose a –” her conn orb lit up, buzzing softly in her satchel. “Shoot, I gotta take this y’all. See you next week!”

Everyone waved her off as she flew out the door, answering her call.

Alexei chuckled as the rest of the group also made their excuses to head out, promising to meet up again next week, or sooner just to hang out. The salandit sighed as he put away the GM screen, looking fondly at the image of a shadow charizard standing on a cliff, overlooking a party of pokémon that wore various medieval armors and robes with nefarious intent.

Having gathered up his smaller items and notes, he looked around the game store that they rented a table at – The Hidden Ability, discover what your party can do! – and sighed at the change of locale. He had been really enjoying having them play at his apartment. It was cozy, he didn’t have to travel and haul around ten books – which were all bigger than him, mind you! – but noooo, just because he had sex one time over there it reeked of it and the rest of them refused to come over now. He couldn’t help that Weft had a… generous capacity. He even had it steam cleaned!

Grumbling halfheartedly, he looked at the stack of books beside him and the pull-behind cart below on the floor. Thankfully this shop was nearby to his apartment complex; he only had to walk four blocks. The game store was surprisingly nice too, compared to the shitty area it was in. It had a little café to hang out in, had some isolated tables in the various corners so that the din of other games didn’t overflow. He wasn’t sure how it was staying afloat, but he wasn’t a business-mon.

Alexei sighed as he grabbed the top book, holding it over his head as he jumped down into the cart and set the book down, before tensing his legs to jump back up to the table. At least he was getting his workout in, his little body only just shorter than the books. Why couldn’t I have been a normal sized salandit? As he did so and went to grab the next book, a baritone voice called out, “Hey, need some help?”

Blinking, the salandit turned to see a blue head poking over the shelves that kept the table solitary. A… dragonair? Alexei thought, watching as the snake-like dragon moved towards the opening that led to the table.

Realizing he hadn’t responded, he shook his head slightly, “Thanks, but I’m actually a librarian, I’m used to moving large amounts of books bigger than I am.”

The dragonair paused, before resuming his slithering towards the table. “Maybe, but doesn’t mean you have to turn down help when someone offers.”

The salandit’s voice caught in his throat, trying to think of a reason to deny that point. “That’s… true.” He finally ended up responding, to which the dragon gave a soft, polite smile.

Alexei moved aside, watching as the stranger slowly extended his tail, wrapping around the remaining TTRPG guides and lifting them off the table to gently place them in the cart below. He realized that he was stiff, watching the dragon warily. He took a deep breath, letting it out softly as he smiled awkwardly back at the much larger pokémon. By the Three, he has to be at least fifteen feet long! His head is twice my size!

“Uhh, thanks,” he managed to squeeze out, not looking directly at the dragonair, whose head was cocked in amusement.

“It’s not a problem, always happy to help out.” The serpent coiled up in front of him as Alexei started dropping the smaller items into the cart from the table. “So I noticed from the café that you all had a nice boss fight.”

The little lizard blinked as he processed that. Yeah, some seats at the café are only about 20-ish feet away from where we’re at…

“Yeah,” Alexei said, forcing himself to relax – not all dragons are bad, not all dragons are bad – “it was basically the end of an arc in the campaign, so…”

“Your combat was brutal, honestly.”

The salandit twitched.

“Not everyone enjoys that style of play, but I found a few who do. It isn’t all combat, that’d be too rigorous even for me, but we do have quite a bit of narrative play in between big fights.”

The dragonair smiled wryly. “I wasn’t critiquing. It was actually refreshing. There’s something… freeing about just being at the whims of the dice. It’s realistic, in a way. You make a choice, and then depending on how skilled you are and your opponent is, it’s up to fate.”

Alexei stopped, having cleared out the rest of the table. He turned and looked at the dragonair in more detail. The wings (ears? No, I’ve seen them extend and fly around) on his head were unkempt and ruffled – not like a creature who had just rolled out of bed, but like they had seen combat and hadn’t quite been set right again. The horn on his head, chipped and scuffed. Purple eyes staring back at him with a depth that didn’t quite match the distance between them. A tattoo of constellations wrapped around his neck, stopping at the round gem sitting at his throat.

“Huh, yeah, I guess so. Can’t say I’ve ever actually been in a fight, so I don’t have much to compare it to.”

The dragon rolled his head in an approximation of a shrug. “Good, fighting sucks. I know, I do it for a living.” He paused, looking up at the ceiling, “Well, mainly I stand around the city gates, but fighting happens occasionally.”

Alexei raised his eye-ridges. “Guard?”

His tail lifted, swaying side to side in a ‘so-so’ manner. “Explorer, but assigned to guard.”

“Yeah, that’s… a bit more eventful than shelving returns.”

“Nah, I guard people, you guard knowledge.” He gave a smile to the salandit. “Either way, I just wanted to come over and say if you have an opening, I’d love to join your game. I’m off weekly today, so I’d be able to make it regularly.”

Alexei could feel his eyes widening and was suddenly very aware of it. He probably looked like an idiot. “I, uh… I’d have to think about that. Not sure if another person joining mid-campaign would be great, and I’d have to talk to my group about it.”

“Yeah, of course. Mind if I give you my contact info just in case though?”

The lizard nodded hesitantly, handing over his conn orb. The dragonair reached out with his tail, avoiding the bright blue crystals on his tail and used his – surprisingly nimble – pointed tailtip to tap at it.

After the dragonair put in his info, he handed it back, and Alexei looked over it. The dragon had put his name in as “Noll – Potential 6th Member”. Well, at least there wouldn’t be any confusion as to whose contact info he was looking at.

Noll shifted back, uncoiling slightly as if to give the space back to Alexei. He looked down at him and smiled, “Hey, nice chatting with you – even if it doesn’t work out.”

“Uhh, yeah. Nice to meet you too, Noll. Oh – um. I’m Alexei.” He waved awkwardly as the serpent departed, nodding at the mention of Alexei’s name.

Huh. That was… something.

It was two blocks away from his apartment when Alexei’s conn-orb buzzed with a text. Not stopping, he pulled it out and scanned it real quick.

He paused in the middle of the street, looking confusedly down at the conn orb. He let out a sharp yelp as the cart he was pulling behind him kept its momentum and ran over the tip of his tail. He quickly pulled it up and looked at it, wiggling it around to make sure he hadn’t broken anything.

Grumbling, he turned his attention back to text and whipped out a quick response.

Knowing her, she’d rapid-fire the texts one after another. Alexei rolled his eyes as the ensuing barrage of text alerts proved him right. Why can’t people just do one long text?

… Well fuck.

Alexei’s brain blanked for a moment. Tali was leaving? But… they’d been on this campaign for nearly two years! Sure some of the group had to miss a session or two because of sickness or their job calling them in, but they always came back!

No… no. Tali’s been struggling, I should be happy for her.

Taking another deep breath, just like he’d been told when he’d been instructed how to regulate, he started a message back.

No, you’re not “gone gone”, but you’re gone in all the ways that matter… The salandit sighed before shoving those feelings away to look at another time. She was right. They all still had one-shots every couple of weeks – she might be able to make it on occasion. She could hang out with the gang despite not being able to commit to a weekly thing.

But that campaign – even though Ilan was the only one still on his first character – just… flowed so well with the group as it was. Who’s going to be the in-between for Rook and Tess? They’ll be at each other’s throats ten minutes into next session! King’s too much of a ‘sit back and watch’ type to step in, and Ilan was… Ilan.

He stared at the message for a second longer, making sure it sounded… okay-ish. It was the best he could do.

Shaking his head, he preemptively muted the D&D group chat for an hour and put his conn-orb away. He sighed, adjusted the harness pulling the cart behind him and trudged his way home.

Alexei was curled up in a ball, in the divot of a much too large beanbag chair. An old re-run of Wheel of Jirachi filled the silence, a slight hint of thaumic static hiding behind the competitors cheering or groaning.

He sighed, looking at the door, its little string hanging from the lever so he didn’t have to jump up a foot to reach the handle. I ought to have maintenance look at the footpaw pedal. They’re supposed to fix things like that, right?

He knew his friends had a solid reason for not wanting to be over here. Even now, curled on the beanbag, the scent of braixen musk still clung to the fabric despite the cleaning service he had ordered. Not that he regretted that night. It had been… sooo worth it. But just like in his campaign, there were consequences. He rolled the die, and it meant having to relocate their weekly games.

Still didn’t stop him from reminiscing though. They used to gather around his gaming table – the only thing in the apartment that was actually worth anything – with Rook and King sitting on the beanbags, and the rest of them sitting on the edges of the table around the playmat.

They’d order pizza or stir-fry, and chow down in between scenes of their characters talking, sometimes catching each other off guard by asking a question mid-bite.

Ah, yeah, I should probably clean out my fridge, pretty sure there’s some two-week old pizza left in there…

His musings were interrupted by a buzz from his conn-orb, which caught him off guard. The group chat definitely still had at least thirty minutes left on mute, and as he pulled it closer, he realized who it was.

…Right.

He’d told her they’d moved the session back to a game store.

He smiled – just a little. Things were… strained between them. But she’d reached out. I only mentioned it once. A couple of weeks ago.

He was about to start typing back when another notification popped up and he reflexively clicked on it.

He stared at the message.

The rest of the chat might as well not have existed.

Oh. Right.

System alerts still came through, even muted.

He inhaled a shaky breath, then scrolled back up to where the messages began.

Yeah, things change alright. Not gone gone my scaly ass.

He took a deep breath inward. No… she is still in the hangout chat.

He let it out in a long exhale, letting the tension go from his shoulders.

Groans erupted from his teleorb as a contestant made the wrong call and lost the jackpot.

Okay. Okay. Our wizard is gone. That’s gonna be a problem.

He frowned as he started running through his plans for the next couple of sessions, he’d need to adjust encounters, account for the loss of utility magic –

He stopped.

…Right. That wasn’t really the problem, was it?

Guess Naira had good timing.

He pulled up the chat, her message sitting there, patiently waiting, just like she did. He sighed and started typing.

He didn’t put it away. She was patient. The read receipt already showed she’d seen it.

No, it wasn’t. He looked up to the table, pulling himself out of the divot in the beanbag and scrambled up to the top of the table, his conn-orb wrapped in his tail.

On it was a photo frame, with a picture of the group. Himself in a wizard’s hat holding a conn-orb like it was a magical focus atop King’s back, with the rest of them surrounding them. His eyes glanced towards the cut-out portion of the picture before focusing back on Tali.

He stared at her, caught midair with an open-beaked avian smile.

He turned back to the conn-orb, claws hovering over the keyboard.

Then –

The bus rattled away behind him as Alexei stepped onto the cracked sidewalk, the smell of riverwater lingering in the air.

The building loomed just ahead – brick, darkened with age and weather, its edges worn soft where time had eaten at it. Tall, but not impressive. Just… there. One of a dozen like it packed shoulder to shoulder along the street. A narrow plaque hung beside the door, a list of office names stacked one over the other, some newer, some faded enough to be nearly unreadable. Half of them probably didn’t exist anymore.

Alexei skipped right past the main door, heading towards the smaller door at its side for the more diminutive clients. Standard architecture before they started adding footpaw pedals for more accessibility. He nudged it open. It stuck slightly. Probably not used very often. He gave it a more firm shove, and it creaked open, the hinges screaming for oil.

Cool air met him inside – stale, conditioned, and carrying the faint scent of cleaning solution that didn’t quite cover whatever had settled into the place over the years. The kind of smell that never really left.

The lobby wasn’t much more than a narrow stretch of tile and a desk that hadn’t been staffed in a while. A directory hung up on the wall behind it, names stacked in neat rows, some printed clean and sharp, others faded or peeling at the corners where the adhesive had given up. A couple of the listings had been scratched out entirely.

The desk itself sat too high to be useful to him. Not that it mattered – no one was there anyway. He paused just long enough to glance over the directory, more out of habit than anything else.

There. Naira - Licensed Cognitive Behavioral Therapist. His eyes lingered at her nameplate. Maybe this was a mistake.

He looked down the hallway, stretching out in both directions, lit by overhead panels that hummed faintly. One flickered just enough to be noticeable if you looked at it too long. Doors lined the walls – closed, mostly. Some full-sized, some set lower into the wall, others with dual handles depending on who needed to use them.

No, she’s already expecting me. It’d be worse to flake out now.

He sighed, starting down the hall, the faint sound of his steps carrying a little too loudly against the tile. Some doors had light spilling out from underneath, voices muffled behind them.

The hallway stretched longer than it needed to.

Alexei kept his pace steady anyway, passing doors that looked just similar enough to blur together if he didn’t focus. He didn’t need to check most of them. He knew where he was going. Still, his eyes flicked toward the plaques as he passed, more out of habit than anything else.

Until… there.

Naira - Licensed CBT

Same as it had been. His steps slowed.

The door itself was unremarkable. Solid, clean, well-kept in a way the rest of the building wasn’t. No peeling edges, no warped frame. Even the handle looked newer than the others he’d passed. He gave a wry shake of his head. Of course it did. Alexei stopped just short of it, the tip of his tail curling around his conn-orb.

You’ve been here before. He told himself.

But that was before. A darker voice whispered back.

He lifted a claw, hesitating, before knocking. Not loud, just enough. There was a brief pause, and then a soft click.

“Come in.”

Four breaths in, hold four, four breaths out, hold four. Just like she taught me. Alexei nudged the door open and slipped inside.

The difference was immediate.

The air felt… cleaner. Not just filtered – maintained. A faint, cool scent lingered, something subtle and intentional that didn’t try to cover anything so much as replace it entirely. 

The space wasn’t large, but it was used well. A low table sat near the center of the room, surrounded by seating of varying sizes – cushioned, supportive, arranged with careful spacing that made it clear they’d been placed, not just filled in. Nothing crowded. Nothing wasted.

Shelving lined one wall, neatly ordered. Books, files, a few small objects placed with enough care to feel deliberate without drawing attention to themselves. No clutter, no leftovers from previous clients, nothing that didn’t belong.

Light filtered in from a narrow window, softened – diffused somehow so it didn’t glare or cast harsh edges. Even the lighting felt… considered.

Contained.

Alexei stepped fully inside, the door closing quietly behind him. It didn’t creak. Of course it didn’t.

Naira was laying on the floor by the low table, her imposing stature still preserved despite not standing up at all. The glaceon was without a doubt considered extra large for her species – four and a half feet at her withers, were she standing. She raised a paw towards the small seat, a gentle smile on her muzzle. “Glad you made it.”

He let out a sigh of relief. She wasn’t mad.

He nodded, moving over to the seat she indicated – the one he’d sat in many times before – and hopped up onto it, sitting down but leaning forward, his front claws pressing down between his hindlegs.

They sat there for a moment, watching each other. He still felt that tension between them, despite her amiable greeting. The silence stretched on, until Alexei started shifting in place.

The glaceon sighed softly, her head tilted down to watch him. “What happened?”

And wasn’t that a loaded question. He shifted more, knowing that Naira had a way of cutting through to the source. So why not start there?

“Tali left the group.” It hurt to say out loud. It was still just… raw.

Naira let him stew in it for a moment. She was good at that. Letting him process.

“Did she?”

He blinked. He had the message saying she did. But… did she? Obviously she wouldn’t be coming to the weekly sessions, but she has promised to still hang out. “To a degree,” he amended, nodding.

She crossed her forepaws, putting her head down to get closer to his level. “What part of it bothers you?”

I should have planned for it.

I should have seen it coming.

I thought I was doing good.

“It… throws things off,” he said. “The party–” He paused. “It just… worked.”

“You’re using the group as an excuse again.” Her words were calm, calculated – and they cut clean through it.

“Yeah…” He didn’t try to argue.

She waited. She was good at that.

“Two years,” Alexei started, falling back into the chair and stretching out on his back. “It feels like two years just… didn’t matter. All the support everyone gave me with… her… Why couldn’t Tali stay? She didn’t even want us to try to rearrange the schedule.”

She watched as he laid back, letting his composure slip. She pounced. “So what makes you think that she was supposed to stay?”

He froze. “Because it was working,” he said stiffly. “I made sure it was working.”

Four in, hold, four out, hold. ”… that’s kind of the point.”

She noted his breathing, a faint smile touching her muzzle. She let it sit for a moment, then cocked her head in curiosity. “So if something works, no one is allowed to leave?”

“No–” he started, sitting up violently. His tail curled into his lap, and his claws found it, toying with it mindlessly. “That’s not what I’m saying.”

He shifted, his free claw supporting him, digging into the cushion.

“I’m just saying you don’t… leave something that’s working unless something’s wrong.”

Naira nodded slightly, as if it was expected. She stretched forward, letting out a quiet yawn as she said, “And you assume that something is you.”

He didn’t answer immediately, watching her stretch, his eyes trailing the curve of her back.

“If it wasn’t…” he said quietly, “then why would she leave?”

The glaceon padded over to him, putting her paw on his head softly. “You’re still doing it, Alexei.” As much as he enjoyed the contact, he shifted from underneath her paw that was half-again as big as him. “You’re turning someone else’s decision into your responsibility.”

He opened his mouth, then shut it. “I–” He shook his head. They had already been through this song and dance, just in a different form. Back with… Zylin.

“Alexei.” Naira’s voice cut through his thoughts. “You can’t keep coming to me like this.”

He flinched slightly.

“That’s not–” he started, then stopped, head lowering.

“I didn’t come here for… that. I mean–” he exhaled, shifting in place. “That’s why I asked if you were here. I didn’t want to give you the wrong idea.”

“I just…” his claws pressed into the cushion again. “I needed to talk to someone who already gets it.”

She sat down, looking down at him with a sad smile. “We’ve had sex, Alexei.” She didn’t raise her voice, didn’t soften it. “I can’t be your therapist anymore. We crossed that line.” She sighed. “Even if we stopped, it wouldn’t change that.”

She took a calming breath herself, eyes squinting down at him. “And you don’t get to pretend that it doesn’t change anything just because it’s convenient.”

He went still, looking up at her looming frame. ”… I know.” His gaze dropped, fiddling with his tail absently. “I wasn’t asking you to–” he stopped, then exhaled. “I just needed somewhere that already made sense.”

She studied him for a moment longer, then exhaled quietly.

“But as your friend,” she said, more gently now, “you can talk to me.”

She paused, holding up her paw.

“Just not here.”

He didn’t answer right away. His claws loosened slightly against the cushion, tail settling back behind him.

“…okay.” he said, finally.

The room was quiet again, the soft hum of the lights settling back in around them.

Alexei restlessly shifted in the darkness of his bed, only a sliver of light slipping in from the window through the small crack he had left in the drawer.

His friends made fun of him occasionally for sleeping in the drawer of a nightstand. But why pay for a bed when a pillow meant for larger mon and some blankets worked just fine?

He also liked feeling like he was contained – he remembered being the smallest salandit in his family, buried under a lizard-pile of his brothers and sleeping soundly back then.

He groaned, suddenly remembering that he was using the sheets that damn vixen had used as a cumrag. Despite the vigorous washing he had given them, the scent had been creeping into his nose the entire time he’d been lying there. He didn’t want to be horny right now. He wanted to stew in his misery and just suffer.

He shoved the drawer open, yanked the sheets into a crumpled mess, and dumped them on the floor. A fresh set from the closet, back into the drawer, shut.

Better. Slightly.

Still, he rolled onto his side, then his back, then his other side, tail flicking irritably against the wood.

Sleep wasn’t happening.

Finally, he gave up and tapped on his conn-orb. He’d been avoiding it for the majority of the day, but he skimmed through the group chat again, before closing it.

He looked at his DMs and sighed. King had sent him something.

Alexei chuckled at the skiddo’s nonchalance. Still, he made a good point. He’d been mulling over a solution all night. Couldn’t just sit there and feel like shit about it – nah, that’d be too easy.

He shifted slightly in the drawer, staring up into the dark.

Right… huh. That dragonair from earlier. Null? No. Noll.

The sleepless lizard hesitated, digits hovering over his conn-orb.

He wasn’t totally sure about inviting the massive serpentine dragon to their table – Zylin was… still a sore subject, and even now, the thought of something that large and draconic coiling up near him made his chest tighten.

But… he exhaled slowly.

It wasn’t like he was committing to anything. Just… reaching out. Seeing what his preferred class was. That was reasonable. Right?

Ugh. He hated starting texts.

“Hey, this is Alexei from the Hidden Ability, you were interested in joining our group?”

Ew, no.

“Hey Noll, this is Alexei the salandit from the game store!”

Too excited.

“Hey, this is Alexei – we talked at the Hidden Ability earlier.

“You mentioned you might be interested in joining our group. Are you still looking for one?”

Hmm. That could work. Fuck it. He hit send, then looked at the timestamp on the message. Oh shit, it’s midnight…

He sighed as he turned off the conn-orb for the moment, the darkness returning to the drawer.

He’d just have to wait and see.

A quick buzz from the conn-orb had him perking up. Already?

He opened it up, and let out a groan. Lyte. C’mon man… The pikachu had been to a couple of game nights and lived in his apartment block. Alexei was surprised to get a text from him so late though.

What? The salandit squinted his eyes, re-reading the message. Aphrodisiacs? The salandit line was known for their potent aphrodisiacs…

He started typing up out what he knew about them, only to be interrupted:

Rude. He asked for the information… He cut his appropriately-sized text (considering the content) to send a quick shush, then pasted it back and continued. This kind of stuff deserved detail. If Lyte didn’t want all of it, he shouldn’t have asked.

Alexei blinked. Helpful? What the fuck has he gotten himself into this time?

He stared at the conn-orb for a few seconds. Lyte had probably already run off to whatever he’d gotten himself into. By the Three, he could be so impulsive.

He let the light from the conn-orb fade, and sat in silence for a moment.

Another buzz. He tempered his expectations.

Alexei ignored the brief, unwelcome thought of the dragonair in the shower – leftover horniness from the braixen-scented sheets, obviously – and perked up at the message.

This – this was something he could do.

Alexei let out a breath. Okay – problem of a lack of a magic caster solved. He set down his conn-orb, shifting onto his back and resting his claws behind his head. He closed his eyes, but sleep still didn’t come.