“I Swear I Saw it Move.”

by ParaDexTwo (reconnectng), rhaynee

Summary:

Who ever heard of moving paintings??

 

Minute was at the museum, and he noticed some of the paintings can move....
yeah that's literally it

Notes:

I know I said I was gonna focus on NAH (Names Are Hard), but I really wanted to write this idea!

Chapter 1: Minute

Minute did his best to squeeze himself into the side of the school bus, not really wanting to be run over by the kids around him. They were in a moving vehicle, but somehow the others still thought they could run around and shove each other and shout insults and altogether be annoying.

“Why do we have to do this?” a boy whined, his voice obnoxiously loud and high-pitched.

There was a muffled thump, probably meaning he’d been hit by some other kid. Probably Jake.

“Shut up! We get to waste a whole day of class by going to this museum! It’s not like we’re actually going to look at the art,” yep, Jake.

Minute half agreed with him, this trip was definitely better than having to feign understanding of allegories and syntax and other weird stuff that his English professor said he needed to know. Plus, it meant that Jake probably couldn’t corner him behind the school like he usually did, so there was that to look forward to as well.

But maybe he’d look at the art too, who knows? It wasn’t like he was super artistic or anything, (he completely denied the fact that he had a sketchbook in his backpack right now) but it would probably be more interesting than watching his peers argue and run around.

The bus stopped in the parking lot, meaning half a dozen people who were standing up went sliding down the aisle. Minute watched them with barely concealed amusement. They all shoved each other down the steps of the bus, and talked over the teacher as he tried desperately to explain that they needed to walk in groups so that they didn’t get lost.

Minute sort of felt bad for him, but he wasn’t going to follow the directions anyway. The only person he could plausibly group with was Wemmbu, maybe. And Wemmbu wasn’t exactly his friend.

The art teacher led the group through the museum to the cafeteria, which the museum apparently had, although maybe it was actually called a food court. Minute half-heartedly watched the paintings they passed.

He paused at one of them, an oil painting of a guy sitting on a gold throne, looking bored. Minute squinted at it, interested. It was a realistic looking painting, but what caught his eye was how bored the person’s expression was.

Who would paint somebody looking bored? Even if the subject had looked bored, the artist wouldn’t paint him looking bored without a reason. If he asked his art teacher, he’d probably say there was some hidden reason, and if you looked at all the details, you'd find the ‘real’ message behind the painting.

Minute thought that was bullshit. He never drew for any reason other than he wanted to, and he doubted that the people who made the paintings knew their work would be on display at a museum sometime hundreds of years into the future.

He glanced down at the plaque that had the artist and name of the painting on it. Unknown, painted with oil on canvas by Unknown. Date of creation: Unknown. Weird.

He looked up, noticing he’d fallen far behind the rest of his classmates. Not that anyone would notice he was gone, but getting himself in trouble would just get him unwanted attention, so he hurried to catch up with them.

“We’re gonna meet back here in two hours,” the teacher said, sounding exhausted. “Now go ahead and explore. I want you all to tell me something new you learned from here next class, okay?”

Minute watched as others broke off into groups, chattering happily. He kept one eye on Jake’s group, making a mental note to avoid them. He probably didn’t have anything to worry about, though, they were just snickering at some painting of several naked women.

Minute shuddered internally, and walked off, trying to find that painting he’d seen earlier. He quickly found it again, and carefully studied the person in the painting. The throne he was sitting on was bright gold, inlaid with jewels. He was lounging in it more than sitting in it, like he was in a recliner rather than a throne.

He had white hair, although from what Minute could tell, he was quite young, although it might just be the paint. The canvas wasn’t very big, and the throne was in the center of it, dark shadows spilling out from behind it. Minute tilted his head, stepping closer to the picture.

He knew the person had looked bored before, he knew. So then why did the man with the white hair now look suspicious? And why had he shifted position, his head tilted slightly toward the shadows behind the throne?

Minute narrowed his eyes, stepping closer. Something was off here. Maybe he was going crazy, because this was definitely the same painting as before, but the person was different. It almost looked like the person was… talking?

He moved closer, frowning. Were his eyes just not working? The person’s mouth wasn’t moving anymore, so it must have been his imagination. But still, the painting had moved. He was sure of it.

A tap on his shoulder made him glance up.

A man wearing an employer badge frowned at him. “Kid, don’t get so close to the paintings. One more step and you’ll touch it. Move back a bit.”

“Sorry,” Minute mumbled. “It’s just fascinating.”

The guy nodded. “Yeah, but watch from a distance.”

Minute took several steps back. “Okay. Um. It almost looks like the person in it moves, doesn’t it?”

He gave Minute a strange look. “Not really. I guess the lighting and the brushstrokes can give the illusion of movement, but-”

“Oh, sorry. It just looked like the person in the painting moved around. And changed his expression a bit.” Minute said carefully. The employer looked even more confused, and Minute tried to salvage the conversation. “Must have been a trick of the light, y’know?”

So then it was just him, nobody else had seen the painting move. Maybe he was going crazy. The man looked at him like Minute was spewing purple lemonade every time he spoke, and Minute decided he should probably leave now.

“Anyway, nice talking to you!” Minute said hurriedly.

He walked away, keeping his eyes trained on the wall ahead of him. He heard the man mutter something about weird teenagers who got high at fine establishments such as this one, and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He wasn’t high, the picture had moved.

He spent the rest of his time at the museum distracted, watching some of the other pieces of art for signs of movement, but he never saw any. He didn’t go back and look at the painting again, so maybe it was just his imagination.

But it was interesting enough, and he really had nothing better to do, so he looked up the times when the museum was open. He’d check again, and if the painting moved again, something was up. If it didn’t, then maybe his brain had just momentarily stopped working. Either way, he was going to figure this out.

Chapter 2: Leo

Summary:

summery: Sumerians summerize summer suns.

and Leo annoys those around him with talk of doom.

Notes:

here is the longer chapter I said would come! and thank you to rhayne for betaing for me! she's incredible!

“Clown, for the last time, you can’t just leave the painting whenever you want to! It’s the middle of the day!” Leo complained.

He wanted to stand up and talk to Clown face-to-face, but people were walking through the halls, looking at all the paintings. Instead, he stared straight forward and talked out of the corner of his mouth.

“And why not?” Clown wheedled. “I’m bored, I wanna talk to Branzy.”

“Well, so am I. But someone’ll notice you’re missing,”

Clown scoffed. “Barely anybody even knows I'm here. They just think I’m part of the shadows behind your throne.”

“Yeah, but if they do figure out you’re missing, what do you think’ll happen?”

“The person who says I’m missing will be put into an insane asylum?” Clown guessed. “Seriously, Leo, barely anyone glances at our painting anymore. We’re old news, so that means we can take more risks.”

“I’d still feel better if you stayed until most of the people were gone,” Leo said.

Clown tilted his head down over top of Leo’s throne. “Well, it’s not like you could stop me. I mean, you’re smack dab in the center of the painting, you can’t move at all. Whatever. I'll just deal with the boredom.”

Leo relaxed. “Thank you. We have no idea how people would react if they saw us moving, so-”

“It’s safer, yeah, yeah…” Clown sighed. “Fiiiiine.”

Leo sat on his throne, shifting around a little to find what was most comfortable. Clown was mostly right, nobody really did more than glance at them. Clown didn’t have any problem standing for hours, and Leo had gotten used to sitting for hours, but it was still boring and more than a little uncomfortable.

During the night they could visit other paintings, step from their own oil painting to visit Branzy’s finger painted canvas, or Vitalasy’s dotted one. Nobody checked whether the people in the artwork were where they should be, at least during the night, and they all took advantage of it.

They couldn’t walk into just any artwork, not all of the people in the pictures could move. The ones who could eventually figured it out, and Mapicc dragged all of them together and promptly announced that they were now all ‘gonna be friends!’

And then there was arguing and sometimes a few of them found their way into Zam’s battle landscape painting and grabbed a sword and decided to stab the others a few times. Well, none of them could really get hurt, at least permanently. All the damage just kinda healed itself.

As more paintings were added to the museum, they discovered some of them could also move around and visit the others. They had also learned that the people not in their weird little paintings could hear them talk. The guard who’d been patrolling at the time had heard Mapicc shouting at Zam, and had stared at Mapicc’s painting for a second before promptly fainting. After that, they all agreed to keep quiet while people were around.

But as more paintings were added, some were taken away. Ohspy had frantically told Mapicc about how his abstract painting was going to be moved to a different museum. Mapicc had thought he was joking, but the next day Ohspy was gone.

The same thing happened with several other people, being taken away to some other museum. But some disappearances were more suspicious. Subz’s painting hadn’t been taken away, but he was gone. The only theory was that he’d decided to figure out why some paintings could move and not others. And then recently, Parrot had disappeared without a trace.

A sharp finger prodded Leo’s ribs, and he jerked his head up, glaring blearily at Clown. “What the fuck?”

“You can’t fall asleep!” Clown said in a sing-song tone. “Or at least, you can't look like you’re asleep.”

“I wasn’t asleep,” Leo retorted, “I was just resting my eyes!”

Clown rolled his eyes. “Sure, buddy.”

Leo huffed, and let his head loll, awkwardly dropping it to his chest. He was tired, he’d spent most of last night catching up with Cube, and now he was bored and exhausted. People’s shoes clicked on the floor as they paused and looked at the art around them.

The sound of a large group of people made Leo look up, and then drop his head onto the back of his throne again, sighing with boredom. Just another group of kids on a field trip. Barely any of them even glanced at the paintings on the walls.

One of the kids at the tail end of the group was taking his time, studying the paintings with mild interest. Leo expected him to maybe look at his portrait for a few seconds and move on, but instead, his eyes narrowed and he leaned closer.

Great. Leo didn’t dare move while somebody was looking directly at him, but he was painfully aware of how slumped he was on his throne. The guy had dark skin and even darker hair, somewhere between curly and wavy. He tilted his head, clearly thinking about something.

Leo held his breath, nervous he’d spot his chest rising and falling. It was pretty unlikely, but this person was staring at him like he was a difficult sudoku puzzle, and he wasn’t going to take any risks.

The black-haired guy looked down at the plaque that gave info about the painting, his frown deepening. Then he quickly looked up, realizing the rest of his group had left him far behind. He hurried off, and after waiting for a few seconds to see if he was really gone, Leo let out a breath of relief.

“That was close. Imagine if I had been moving when he noticed us. Clown?”

“Hm,” Clown said noncommittally. “I doubt we were in any real danger. It’s not like he’ll come back and look at us again.”

“Are you sure?” Leo said skeptically. “He looked pretty interested in us.”

Clown snickered. “Well, I don’t think he noticed me, and you’re not that interesting, so-”

“Hey! Rude!” Leo snapped. “Anyway, I just think it’s weird. Maybe we should-”

“Don’t. Speak.” Clown said quietly.

“You never listen to me. That guy was acting weird, and I-” Leo muttered grumpily.

“He’s right there, Leo.” Clown hissed.

Oh. Oh. Leo froze, not daring to turn his head toward the hall. Now that he was quiet, he could hear his soft Hmmm… as he leaned even closer. Leo drew in his breath and held it, scared the guy would hear his breathing. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of the employers walk forward, one who made sure that people didn't touch the art.

He tilted his head, watching closely. Had he seen or heard Leo talking? The employer tapped his shoulder, and thankfully the person turned away. The employer told him to back up, and they had a brief exchange that Leo mostly ignored in favor of getting some air into his lungs.

His heart pounded in his ears. That was too close. If that person had seen them move, and if people believed him, then they could be in huge trouble. Leo did not want his canvas ripped up to find whatever was keeping them alive.

“-the person in the painting moved around. And changed his expression a bit.” the guy was saying.

Leo froze again, trying to look as statue-like as possible. But thankfully, the employer just looked confused. Leo breathed a sigh of relief. Of course, no way they would take him seriously! Who ever heard of moving paintings?? They were fine, nobody would believe him anyway.

The person who’d been watching him also seemed to realize that as well, forcing a smile onto his face. “Must have been a trick of the light, y’know?”

The employer nodded, still looking slightly confused.

“Anyway, nice talking to you!” the person said, and quickly walked away.

Leo watched him hurry down the hall, Clown leaning over to see better as the employer turned away, muttering angrily. The guy glanced over his shoulder, looking right at Leo. or, well, his painting, but it definitely felt like he was staring straight into Leo’s eyes.

Leo saw his expression harden, his eyes darkening. Leo tried not to shiver. His expression was determined, a clear I’ll figure this out face, and Leo didn’t like it. The person finally turned away, and walked out of sight.

“Well. That was fun.” Clown said after a pause.

Leo whirled around and stared at him. “No! Not fun! I nearly had a heart attack!”

“But you didn’t,” Clown pointed out. “And you can’t even have a heart attack. Calm down. Nobody’s gonna take a random kid seriously.”

Leo sighed, crossing his arms. “Fine.”

“You’ve been really wound up recently,” Clown said thoughtfully. “Take a chill pill, maybe.”

“Nobody knows what happened to Parrot,” Leo pointed out. “Maybe they found him out and had him destroyed. The same thing could happen to us.”

Clown scoffed. “Look, I doubt we’ll ever see the person again. We’re paintings, Leo, he’ll probably just blame it on his lack of sleep.”

 

Clown was wrong. They did see that person again. He came back the next day, sometime after noon, sat down right in front of Leo’s painting with a sketchbook, and just stared. Right at Leo. For four hours. What the actual fuck.

Leo had told Spoke (who had taken the role of leader since Parrot had vanished) about the person seeing him move, and Spoke had assured him the same as Clown; nothing to worry about, because the kid would move on immediately.

He was wrong! Leo had had to make sure he didn’t move a muscle the entire time, desperately hoping the guy would give up and stop trying to sus him out.

It was exhausting, especially because Leo could tell he had sharp eyes. When Leo had started to drift off at some point, for only a second, his eyes had lit up, and he’d stared at Leo with renewed determination. He must have seen Leo’s eyes closing.

Clown thought the whole thing was hilarious, and even though Leo never turned his head to look behind him, he was sure Clown was laughing silently behind his back.

When the person finally picked up his sketchbook and started to get up, Leo let out a sigh of relief. He paused as he was leaving, leaning in close to the painting, and Leo quickly froze. For a few seconds, he studied the canvas carefully, and then his eyes widened and he let out a little huff of surprise.

“I almost didn’t see you there,” he murmured, more to himself than to Leo and Clown (Leo hoped). “You just blend right in with the shadows behind the white guy’s throne. Cool.”

Clown drew in breath sharply, and Leo resisted the urge to bury his head in his hands. Almost nobody noticed Clown, and the fact that this guy did was very concerning. If he managed to spot Clown’s mask in all those shadows, who knew what else he’d noticed?

The guy turned around and left, smiling to himself. Leo buried his hands in his face, groaning. “Dude. How has this gotten even worse now?”

“It’ll probably be fine,” Clown said calmly. “It’s not like nobody’s ever noticed me before. It’s just unusual, but nothing to worry about.”

“Maybe by itself, but this person also saw me move! This is a recipe for disaster.” Leo muttered, rolling his head around to loosen his neck.

“He’ll lose interest soon.” Clown said confidently. “It’ll be fine, ‘white guy’, trust me.”

Leo whipped his head around and glared at him. “I bet he will!”

“Hm? Will what?” Clown asked, distracted by the high heels of someone walking by. “Damn, I want those shoes. Think I can get Jaron to make those for me?”

“I bet he’ll just keep coming back,” Leo said, ignoring Clown’s attempt to divert the conversation. “This is just getting worse. I’m going to talk to Spoke.”

Clown dramatically fell against one of the curtains behind Leo’s throne. “You know he’ll just go talk to his cows. He really likes them. I never thought Spoke, the destructor of all things, could be such a good farmer. I only wish he’d let me kill his cows and make some steak out of them.”

Leo ignored him, hopping out of his throne and stretching. His muscles were still and sore from holding absolutely still for hours, and he grimaced.

Clown had no trouble carrying on the one-sided conversation. “I just think such well-tended cows would probably taste delicious. And Spoke has so many, he wouldn’t miss just one! Bring me back one, will you? Maybe I can use Mid’s campfire to cook them.”

Leo rolled his eyes, stepping to the edge of the painting. “And make him an enemy? No thank you, remember what he did last time?”

The edge of the canvas was weird, an odd combination of his realistic oil painting and Terry’s photorealistic one. Curtains melded into sunlight streaming down from the blue sky, and Leo squinted in the suddenly bright sunlight.

The floorboards under his feet turned into muddy grass, and then he was standing in a swamp-like area. He made a face at his shoes, sinking slowly into the mud. The grass looked fine, but it was waterlogged, more like quicksand than solid ground. Leo squelched past Terry’s hut, which was standing above the swamp on stilts.

The other edge of Terry’s painting faded into a mess of abstract colors, painfully bright. Leo resisted the urge to cover his eyes. Spoke was humming, in the middle of feeding his chickens. Well, they were supposed to be chickens, or at least somebody’s interpretation of chickens.

Leo watched in a mixture of disgust and awe as one of the squiggly looking creatures pecked at the ground, its square face hitting the sun-dried ground with a loud thunk.

“Spoke,” Leo said cautiously. “Are your chickens okay?”

Spoke himself was a mess of too-bright colors, every single shade of the rainbow condensed down onto one figure, with the most eye-scorching square white eyes and inky black body. If that wasn’t bad enough, his body was undefined, a blob of intense color with a head that looked like it’d been glitched like Ashswag, different layers of color glaring through the black in places.

Spoke looked up, the colors on his skin shifting around and making Leo want to throw up. “Oh yeah, that’s normal. Nice to see you, by the way! How’re things going? Did that guy come back?”

“Yeah, actually, that’s why I'm here,” Leo said, shoving away the pointy horse that tried to eat his hair. “Spoke, can you at least try to control your animals?”

“Sorry,” Spoke said sheepishly. “I can’t let them out during the day, they’ll move around, y’know? And I try to give them as much fresh air as possible.”

“How the fuck you went from an exploiter to farmer, I do not know,” Leo said under his breath.

Spoke shrugged. “Hey, I have my reasons. And we’re not here to talk about that. He came back? What did he do?”

“Not much, he sat down and watched me for hours. And I mean hours, I had Clown count for me. Four! That’s how many hours he spent watching me. But he also noticed Clown, like figured out he was there. Not many people can pick him out of the shadows.”

“Creepy,” Spoke commented, sprinkling some more chicken feed on the ground. “Hey, he’s probably just had nothing better to do. Maybe he just has good eyes? I don’t think he’ll come back again, though.”

“That’s what you said earlier,” Leo pointed out. “And he did come back. I don’t want to be taken away and inspected. I know what happened to Rek.”

Spoke sighed. “Yeah. I don't know how they figured it out. Maybe an employer saw him move? He was super twitchy and nervous all the time,”

“Not gonna happen to me and Clown,” Leo said firmly. “How do I get him to leave?”

“Honestly? Beyond holding really, really, still until he loses interest? Not much, I think.”

“Great,” Leo said glumly.

“Hey, at least you got to meet the chickens! I think this one’s gonna have eggs soon!” Spoke pointed to another white blob, smiling proudly.

“Congratulations,” Leo said half-heartedly. “You’re gonna be a chicken grandfather.”

Spoke smiled even brighter. “Thanks! I can’t wait to tell Planet! Actually, I’m gonna go find him! See you later!”

Spoke trotted off, probably going to the Gucci Gang painting, where Planet was sure to be. Leo sighed and turned around, heading back for his own painting. He needed to get some sleep, that guy had made it nearly impossible to sleep during the day.

Hopefully in a few days this would all blow over, but right now he was nervous and exhausted. That person could seriously figure them out, and if he did, he’d either get sent to an insane asylum or they’d be under FBI surveillance or something. Maybe he was being a little dramatic, but living paintings would definitely make national news.

He walked back to Terry’s painting, knocking on his door. Terry answered, looking a little surprised. “Hey man, long time no see? How’s it going?”

Leo smiled tiredly at him. “Can I use your bed? Sorry, I haven’t slept, like, at all recently. Stupid kid.”

“Stupid kid?” Terry echoed, looking confused. He opened the door wider, and Leo flung himself onto Terry’s bed. “Huh?”

“I’ll explain in the morning,” Leo mumbled. “Wake me up before the museum opens again.”

Notes:

again, please think of names for me! I can't do it myself!

if you watched Plaent's new video, you'll know why I made Spoke a farmer. and if someone can teach me how to embed images, maybe I'll draw Spoke and his chickens!

Chapter 3: Leo

Summary:

People finally think that Minute is a threat!

Notes:

yay new chapter!! chapters 2&3 were actually gonna be one chapter, but it got too long.

“So, to be clear,” Terry said. “You were seen moving by some random kid on a school trip, and now he won’t leave you alone? And he saw Clown as well?”

“Yeah,” Leo took a sip of the tea Terry had made for him.

“It’s only been two days. I bet he’ll stop watching you by the end of the week.”

Leo sighed. “I don’t think so. He looked like he was going to wait until I started break dancing or something.”

“Why would you break dance? Terry asked curiously. “I don’t think you even know how,”

“I wouldn’t!” Leo threw up his hands. “That’s the point! He won’t leave me alone until I give him what he wants!”

“Again, it’s only been two days. You really have nothing to worry about. I’d say Vitalasy has more to worry about than you.”

“Why?”

“He told Spoke that some other person was watching him. A girl wearing a sweater. She’s been watching him for over a week now.”

“Great. More people getting suspicious.” Leo dropped his face into his hands.

“Hey, if this doesn’t resolve itself in a few days, maybe you should talk to Spoke about doing that thing.”

“What thing?” Leo asked.

Terry opened his mouth, shut it, and then opened it again. “It’s kinda not supposed to be common knowledge, actually. Maybe let’s wait until it’s absolutely necessary.”

Leo squinted at him with a sudden burning desire to find out what Spoke could do. “No, no! I wanna know. What is it?”

Terry shook his head. “I'm not gonna tell you unless I need to. I told Spoke I'd keep it on the down-low.”

Leo sighed. “Fine. But if he’s still watching us by the end of this week-”

Terry interrupted. “If he’s still here by the end of this week, you ask Spoke about it, ‘cuz I'm not spilling his secrets.”

Leo shoved his now finished cup of tea back to him. “Okay, thank you. I need to head back now if I don't wanna be reported missing by some early-morning visitors.”

Terry nodded, and Leo stepped out of his hut, squished his way through the muck surrounding it, and stepped back into his own painting. Thankfully, all the mud clinging to his shoes didn’t follow him through to his canvas.

Even better, there was no sign of the black-haired person the whole day. Leo spent most of it catching up on his sleep, dozing through the groups of people that came and went. Clown eventually got bored and left to annoy Zam, but Leo didn’t mind, there wasn’t anybody to notice he was gone.

It seemed as though the person had lost interest, and Leo couldn't be more relieved, finally able to relax again. When nighttime came and the museum closed again, Clown found his way back to their painting.

“I wanna head out again,” Clown said, shoving Leo to the side and sitting down on the throne next to him. “I take it there was no more ogling?”

Leo nodded, wiping the sleep from his eyes. “No appearances from him whatsoever. Thank god.”

Clown huffed lightly. “Good. I was starting to get worried.”

“You were worried?” Leo squawked indignantly. “Then why were you so chill about it?!”

“Well, if I started to freak out as well, you’d lose your head,” Clown reasoned.

Leo spluttered incomprehensibly.

“So, imma go to Vortex’s, ‘cuz I heard he was gonna use the barbecue, and Spoke really wants to show off his chickens. Me and Zam are thinking fried chicken, wanna come?”

“No!” Leo snapped. “You suck!”

Clown opened his mouth, and Leo cut him off. “Do not make a joke about that!”

“Okay, okay…” Clown made a placating gesture. “Well, I’ll leave you to sulk while I go have fun.”

“Bitch,” Leo muttered.

Clown snickered. “Hey, you can always go get some fried chicken with us!” he whirled around, walking towards the edge of the painting.

Leo crossed his arms and glared resolutely out at the darkened hall. Clown’s footsteps slowly receded, leaving Leo alone in his painting. Now, all he could hear was his own breathing.

The silence stretched on. Leo stared into the shadows, not really sure why he was watching the gloomy hall. It just felt off, the corridor too dark and quiet. It wasn’t ever loud, but usually there was some sort of noise, from the visitors or from his friends.

He wished he’d brought one of the crickets from Terry’s painting to his own. Maybe the chirping would stop the spiders crawling down his neck.

Quick, light footsteps made Leo tense up. The security guards didn’t sound like that, they walked slower and heavier. Somebody was here who shouldn’t be. Leo stood up, glancing down each side of the hallway.

There was a small light down one end, probably a flashlight. It was probably a thief trying to steal some paintings. Leo felt a flare of panic. Clown wasn’t here, and if the thief stole his painting, he’d be stuck there forever with no company. And if the thief was caught and people noticed Clown was missing, it would be just as bad.

The footsteps came closer and Leo cursed quietly, glancing around the curtains. He couldn’t leave his painting and the person would surely hear him shouting for Clown. What could he even do?

A bright light shone into his painting as the footsteps came to a stop right in front of him. Leo made the mistake of looking directly at the light, blinding himself. He froze, not that he was anywhere near his usual position on his throne, standing off to the side with one hand on the curtains.

He heard a quiet laugh. “Wow, you’re really not supposed to be there.”

Leo’s heart hammered in his chest. First, this guy watched him like a creep. Then he broke into the fucking museum. Leo wanted to scream, swear at him, or cut out his throat so he couldn’t tell anyone. He held still.

Now that Leo’s eyes were adjusted to the light, he could see his face more clearly. He was scanning over every inch of the canvas, his eyes narrowed. He held a small flashlight in one hand, and his black hair was considerably messier. He looked incredibly delighted with himself, and Leo wanted to punch him.

“It’s gone now,” he murmured.

Clown. Clown was gone, and he knew Clown was supposed to be there, and he knew Clown wasn’t here anymore. Leo desperately hoped he wouldn’t check other paintings and see Clown hanging out at Vortex’s. But even if he didn’t, this was already one of the worst situations Leo had ever been in before.

Leo locked eyes with his stalker, who stared at him for a long moment. Leo didn’t know what to do, just stand there until he left? Or should he try to scare him away?

The person suddenly blinked and pulled back, muttering. “Wait, what the hell am I doing? I need-”

Leo frantically shook his head, but he wasn’t even looking at him. He shoved the little flashlight in between his teeth, digging around his pocket for something.

Wait wait wait. His phone. That’s what he was trying to get. Leo waved his hands even more frantically, trying to distract him. Phones meant pictures meant undeniable proof that he’s a living painting, and Leo did not want that.

He gave Leo a bright look as he finally got his phone out, the flashlight clenched between his teeth so he could unlock it. When he did, the chime of an alarm went off, making him yelp and drop his phone, clattering on the floor. Oh, the guards must have heard that, there was no way they couldn’t hear that obnoxious ringing.

The guy cursed. “Wemmbu! That bitch!”

His flashlight fell from his mouth, and the beam of light whirling around the hall as it spun. He snatched up his phone, tapping at the screen to silence the alarm. Leo made a mental note to make a shrine to this Wemmbu, who had undoubtedly saved him and Clown from certain disaster.

Leo could hear other footsteps now, definitely the guards coming to check out what was wrong. He promptly flipped the other person off, smirking at him. It was clear that he already knew he could move, and if he was going to be destroyed, he was going to do everything he could to make this person’s life hell.

The black-haired individual gave him a quick glare, snatching up his errant beam of light. “This isn’t the end.”

Leo resisted the urge to say something mocking back. He didn’t know that Leo could speak yet, and he intended to keep it that way.

The footsteps were getting louder now, and Leo watched him run away, his footsteps somewhat masked by the guard’s. He quickly ran back to his throne, sitting down just in time, as the guards started down his row. He squinted in the guard’s much stronger beam of light.

He crossed his fingers behind his back, hoping the guard would find this person and arrest him.

 

“Do you have anything stronger than tea?” Leo asked Terry, letting his forehead hit the table with a thunk.

Terry raised his eyebrows. “That bad, huh? And no, if you want some fine wine I'm not the person to go to.”

Leo raised his head an inch and dropped it again with another thunk. “Well, the person who’s been watching me broke into the museum while Clown was away, saw me while I wasn’t where I was supposed to be, and then tried to take a photo of me.”

There was a tinkle as the cup of tea Terry was making slipped from his hands and shattered in the ground. He whirled around, his face white.

“And then I flipped him off,” Leo added. “Which in retrospect, probably wasn’t the smartest move by me.”

“What?!” Terry nearly shouted. “He- What?”

Leo slammed his forehead into the table again. “He broke into the museum while Clown was away, saw me while i-”

“Did he manage to get a picture?” Terry demanded, picking up the broken pieces of the cup with shaking fingers.

Leo shook his head. “Nah, thank god for Wemmbu.”

“Who’s that?”

“No clue, but apparently he set an alarm on that guy’s phone, and it alerted the guards.”

Terry breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh good. But this is really serious, he’s a real threat now. Breaking into the museum? This is bad.”

“That’s what i’ve been saying,” Leo complained. “Finally! Now, will you tell me the cool thing Spoke can do?”

Terry shook his head reluctantly. “No. Talk to Spoke yourself.”

“Fine, I will.” Leo got up, and headed toward the door.

“Wait,” Terry called after him.

Leo paused at the door. “Yeah?”

“I’d be really careful if I were you,” Terry said cautiously, “This person is dangerous. And Spoke is too.”

Notes:

hey brits who do you think is the girl wearing the sweater? (hint hint wink wink)

and any ideas of spoke's special power?

Chapter 4: Minute

Summary:

Minute meets the girl in the sweater. who is she??

Notes:

idk what to put here its five in the morning.

Minute grimaced, untucking his legs from under himself and stretching them out. The museum was finally open again, judging from the people moving in and out of the bathroom. His legs ached from being curled up on top of a toilet for hours, and he rocked back and forth, trying to wake them up again.

He’d noticed a few days ago, the second time he’d gone to the museum, that the bathrooms weren’t very clean. Which was fine, he didn’t mind, but it meant that the bathrooms weren’t cleaned every day. He’d even gone to the museum early to check, and they’d still been dirty, which meant nobody checked the bathrooms during the night.

Or at least, that’s what he hoped. He had no real proof to go off of, other than the state of the bathrooms. Either way, he hadn’t really cared. If he was caught, he could easily play the ‘sorry I thought the museum was still open my mom was supposed to tell me when it closes wait where is she did she leave without me?’ trick again. It almost always worked.

He hadn’t needed to, though. A few hours before the museum closed, he’d gotten in one of the stalls and crossed his legs on top of a toilet. Nobody could see him in there, and Minute had waited there as less and less people came in and out.

Then the lights had turned off, and Minute had waited several more hours for any people who were still in the building to leave. He hadn’t expected there to be guards, although in retrospect he probably should have expected people watching extremely valuable art.

He definitely hadn’t expected the alarm on his phone. Stupid Wemmbu. He’d been so close to getting a picture and proving to himself that the paintings moved. He didn’t necessarily need photographic proof, he knew what he saw, but it would have been somewhat of a trophy for him. Something to show to himself and feel proud that he noticed the painting move when nobody else had.

He’d been super lucky when trying to catch the person out of place, because not only had the white guy moved again, but the creepy person wearing a heart-shaped mask was gone. Minute shivered, remembering the creature. He didn’t even know if it was human, with its leering mouth and x-ed out eyes. Creepy.

Minute rolled his shoulders, wincing. He’d been wearing his binder for over 24 hours now, and it was cutting into his skin. He slid a hand under the shoulder strap, running his fingers over the indent in his skin. Oh yeah, he’d really overbinded. He’d probably be in a lot of pain if he didn’t take it off soon.

He actually should have taken it off hours ago, but he wasn’t going to go anywhere without it on. Well, now he was paying for it, and it didn’t help that he’d chosen the tighter one. It did have a zipper, but that didn’t really help either.

He unlocked the bathroom door, stepping out and doing his best to act like he hadn’t stayed awake in that stall all night, and that he could breath normally. He went over to the sink and washed his hands, trying to ignore the other people around him.

He walked out, forcing himself to pause and look at some of the artwork. It didn’t matter how much pain he was in or how tired he was, he couldn’t afford to look suspicious at all. He’d already gotten a few weird looks from the other people here (mostly old people). After staring blankly at something he didn’t even register for over a minute, he walked slowly to the entrance and left the building.

He’d hidden his backpack in a bush last morning, which was probably not the smartest thing to do, but he hadn’t had many options. He grabbed it, slinging it over his shoulder and wincing as the weight made the strap cut into his shoulder more. At this rate, he’d be lucky if it didn’t break the skin.

He made his way to a park down the street and flopped down on a bench, panting. He’d just broken into a museum. And not gotten caught. And a painting had given him the middle finger. That last one was the hardest to believe. He felt a laugh bubbling up from inside of him.

A painting had flipped him off? That seemed like the kind of thing that happened in movies or something. Really bad comedy movies. Or maybe the white guy was just a goofy person. He hoped it was the second one, he could deal with a goofy person, but not somebody who thought they were in a movie.

He snickered to himself, earning more weird looks from other people at the park, which was also limited to people over age sixty. The world suddenly went fuzzy before snapping back into focus. He really needed to get some sleep, he hadn’t slept at all during his night at the museum. At least the fossils hadn’t come alive. Well, the paintings had!

Minute pressed his hands against his eyes, breathing deeply to try to ground himself. It only made him more aware of the fabric digging into his skin, and how each breath felt like there were rocks on his chest.

He dropped his hands and rummaged through his backpack, grabbing the bottle of Advil he kept there. He shook a few out onto his palm, struggling to count through the increasing fog in his brain. Eventually he gave up, guessing that the amount probably wouldn’t kill him, and gulped them down with some water.

He packed up his stuff to leave, and promptly decided he didn’t wanna go anywhere. He couldn’t go home right away because he was supposed to be at school, but he couldn’t go to school like this anyway.

The best course of action would probably be to find someplace where he could take off his binder for a bit, but he was too exhausted to try and find anywhere he felt comfortable enough for that. He curled up on the bench and promptly fell asleep.

 

When Minute woke up, the first thing he registered was that he wasn’t in as much pain as before. The Advil had done its job; the pain had faded into a dull ache, and he could move his arms more. He yawned, blinking blearily at the grassy park around him.

Judging from the sun (and the watch he was wearing) it was sometime late in the morning. He sighed, letting his eyes drift closed again. He still felt exhausted, and the growing pressure in his head told him he was getting a headache as well. Great.

He shouldn't have taken that Advil. Well, he should have at least taken the time to count out how many he was taking, because now he had no idea when he could take it again. He dragged himself off the bench and walked excruciatingly slowly back to his house.

He somehow managed to get to his room and locked the door behind him before taking off his shirt and unzipping his binder, breathing in deeply.

Minute carefully avoided his reflection in the mirror, twisting his head around awkwardly to see the damage he’d done to his torso. It was pretty bad, deep indents cutting into his shoulders and his back. His whole chest hurt like it had been compressed, probably because it had been.

He curled up under his covers and went straight back to sleep.

 

When Minute woke up for the second time, his head was throbbing painfully and it was nearly three in the afternoon. His stomach growled and he accidentally sat up too quickly, the pain in his head pulsing even worse. He groaned, clutching his head. Ow.

He grabbed the bottle of Advil from his backpack, along with his water. He didn’t care whether it was safe to take more, his head was gonna split in half and his chest hurt. He counted out a few, and then added an extra one. Because his head was really hurting.

He gulped them down, and after forcing himself to go downstairs to eat a hastily made sandwich, he pulled his binder back on and set off for the museum. He had a plan this time: see the white guy’s reaction to him not being arrested. It was more to satisfy that petty part of him than anything else, but he thought it would be hilarious to see his face.

He wasn’t wrong. Despite the white guy not moving a single inch since Minute saw him again, he somehow still managed to look outraged. Minute tried and failed to hide the smile on his face.

Oh, this was personal now, he really wanted to do everything in his power to piss this guy off. His face just looked so funny, all scrunched up and grumpy-looking. And the grinning clown face in the corner didn’t help.

Minute sat down, his pencil tapping on his sketchbook. He’d really only brought it to give his hands something to do, but now he realized that he could just work on his drawing skills while watching the white guy.

He studied the page for a second, hoping the white guy would use the time to move around. When Minute looked up, he’d shifted positions, looking down at Minute with a truly terrifying expression. Minute drew in a sharp breath. He’d never seen anyone look so scary, and the fact that this was a painting somehow didn’t take away from the look of murder in the white guy’s eyes.

His pencil tapping slowed, and then stopped, uneasiness creeping up his spine. If this guy could move, could he move to other places as well? Was he bound by his painting or not? The face mask behind him apparently wasn’t, so maybe he could leave his painting as well. Could he get into the painting of fruit in Minute’s house?

The thought of this oil painted character glaring down at him in between a sketch of a few grapes and a banana made Minute snicker. Nah, he was just overthinking, there was no way the white guy could get into his house.

He started to sketch, shaping the portrait of the white guy before making a drawing of the hallway it was in and then his own hands holding the sketchbook, and then making the painting itself.

He liked drawing in general, but he loved illusions, especially drawings that had a droste effect or something similar. There was just something so satisfying and intriguing about them, and Minute was sort of obsessed.

He was trying to draw the little sketch of the sketch inside of the sketch, (which was painfully small) when footsteps stopped right next to him. He didn’t glance up right away, more focused on getting the proportions right in the limited space he had. People usually just walked past or around him, so this person was probably watching him draw.

He looked up into the face of someone he’d never met before, a girl wearing a pink sweater. She was watching him draw, looking fascinated.

“Hello,” he said cautiously.

“Hi!” she said, smiling at him. “Sorry, I was just watching you draw. You’re really good!”

“Um. Thank you?” Minute said, more of a question than a statement. “I mean, I doubt that’s the only reason you came over here, but thanks.”

She laughed. “Well, yeah. There’s not that many other people our age around here, right?”

“How old do you think I am?” Minute asked.

“I don’t really know,” she confessed, “But I know you’re probably not older than fifty, and that’s pretty difficult to find around here.”

Minute frowned. “Wait. No way you think I could actually be forty.”

“I don’t! Wait, are you forty?”

“No!” Minute laughed, a little awkwardly. “What? No, I'm not forty.”

“Good,” the girl said fervently, “That would be insanely awkward. I’d probably go and die in a hole.”

“Woah. Um. Okay?” Minute muttered, “I’d probably just go hit my head on the wall instead, but you do you. And it’s already extremely awkward, we don’t need a huge age gap for that.”

The girl clapped both of her hands over her mouth, trying to muffle her laughter so the other people looking at art wouldn’t complain. “What’s your name?” she asked.

“Minute.”

“Jumper.”

“Jumper? Do you jump a lot?”

“Yeah, I can jump really high. Actually, my mom was a kangaroo,” she whispered conspiratorially, grinning.

Minute looked her up and down. “Sure, buddy, sure… Anyway, since you’re here, d’you like the painting?” He pointed to the portrait of the white guy.

It was weird that another person his age was hanging around an art gallery, and Minute thought that just maybe she’d seen something as well. So here he was, randomly bringing up the artwork in the hope that she’d seen a painting move and would pick up on his hint.

“It’s… definitely a painting,” Jumper said politely. “It looks kinda like the person in it is having a seizure, though. Is he supposed to look like that?”

Minute studied the white guy’s expression. He looked furious, like Minute had just confessed that he was going to set his painting on fire. “Oh, wow. He’s really mad about something,”

“Man, it’s almost like some of these paintings are alive, they definitely have human-like expressions,” Jumper commented sagely.

“I know,” Minute said carefully, “Yeah, it’s like they move.”

“And their expressions change over time,” Jumper continued, a smile growing on her face.

“Exactly,” Minute nodded his head slowly, trying to stay calm. There was a chance she could just be messing with him, and not actually have seen anything.

She whirled to face him, barely concealed delight on her face. “So you’ve seen them move too?”

Minute nodded. “Yeah, they move. Or at least, this one does,” he gestured toward the white guy.

“Oh. My. God. Yes!” Jumper quietly exclaimed, pumping her fist in the air. “Finally! You have no idea how many people think I'm crazy because I've asked them if they’ve seen a painting move.”

“Yeah, I kept it to myself,” Minute said, trying to be nonchalant, forcing an expression of only mild interest on his face. “No sense making people give me ever more weird looks than usual, y’know?”

“Makes sense,” Jumper muttered, more to herself than Minute, before grabbing Minute’s hand. “C’mon! I need to show you something!”

Minute quickly jerked his hand out of hers. “What? I’ve known you for literally thirty seconds, don’t grab my hand.”

He instantly regretted it, already knowing he’d messed up what could’ve been maybe a new friendship. Not that he had much experience with those, so he guessed it probably couldn't have been helped.

To his surprise, Jumper paused, thinking. “You’re right. I got way overexcited, that was pretty rude. Sorry, I just really wanna show you the painting I saw move.”

“That’s fair,” Minute said, surprised she hadn’t just walked off or gotten mad at him. “Um. I'm just not a huge fan of physical contact.”

Jumper nodded. “I’ll remember that. Sorry for grabbing your hand. Will you come with me?”

Minute nodded, and let her lead him through the maze of hallways, before stopping at a large drawing. She sat down and crossed her legs, and Minute followed suit.

It was a beautiful drawing, made with some combination of pen and colored pencil, because no colored pencil could have made such fine dots. And that was all there was, the whole thing was made up of thousands and thousands of dots, so close together that you had to look really close to see them.

It was a drawing of a grassy field, the optimal spot for a picnic, and that was what a person with russet hair wearing purple clothes was doing. Food was set out all over the blanket over the grass, and the person was holding a plate in their hands, laden with roast beef and a salad and some type of yogurt looking thing.

Another plate was abandoned, half off the blanket and half eaten, as if someone had gotten up and left. The purple guy was looking at the plate with an odd expression on his face. Dragonflies - no, damselflies, dragonflies didn’t have black wings - were resting on the grass around the person, and one had landed on the back of his hand.

The entire drawing was huge, covering nearly from the ceiling to the floor. Minute got up and backed away, trying to see the whole thing better.

“It’s really big,” Minute said, quite obviously.

Jumper didn’t seem to mind his stupid comments. “Yeah, it’s huge. It must have taken forever to make, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, it must have,” Minute replied, still not adding anything useful to this conversation. “Um,” Jumper looked at him, and he felt a flare of panic that he quickly tamped down. “So. How did it move?”

Jumper brightened. “Oh, it’s actually really interesting,” she twisted around to face him directly, her back to the drawing. “So the first time I went here, I saw this painting, but it was different. Instead of one person and two plates, there were two people and three plates. Weird, right?”

Minute nodded, not sure what else to do. Jumper continued. “The other person was also wearing a ton of purple, but he looked super grumpy. And he had darker and shorter hair, plus I think he had some horns or something? It was kinda hard to tell, I only saw it in passing.”

“Um- So, he left?” Minute asked.

Jumper nodded emphatically. “Yeah! The next time I came, it was like it is now, two plates and one person.”

“I wonder if there was three people at some point,” Minute said, “I mean, it makes sense, right?”

“That’s what I thought too,” Jumper said, “But there’s no way of telling whether it’s true or not, and I have no idea where they might have gone. Were they just removed from existence?”

Minute shrugged, and stepped closer to the illustration, trying to decipher the look on the person’s face.

Jumper joined him, and lowered her voice a little. “Most of the time he’s making that expression. He looks kinda sad, but happy at the same time? It’s hard to explain, but he usually looks like that.”

“Bittersweet,” Minute decided, “Or something along those lines, I think. I wonder what it is that’s bittersweet, though.”

“Probably the other guy leaving,” Jumper murmured, “I wonder why they left. Were they taken away, maybe?”

“I think the ones that move can leave their paintings,” Minute added, “So maybe they left of their own free will, and this one is sad they're not there anymore?”

“Ohhh,” Jumper smiled, “Yeah, that would make sense. How’d you figure that out?”

Minute felt a small flash of pride. “I broke into the museum.”

“What?!” Jumper barely remembered to lower her voice at the last second, her eyes wide. “Why?”

Minute shrugged. “What else was there to do? I don’t know, I needed something to occupy myself and I wanted to catch the white guy off-guard.”

Jumper reached for his hand, and then pulled it away again. “Okay! Come on, there’s no way we’re talking about you breaking into the museum in the museum you broke into. Let’s go outside. Also, who’s ‘the white guy’?”

Chapter 5: Minute

Summary:

Minute and Jumper talk.

Notes:

I just remembered what I didn't say last time I posted! it was 'guys please take care of yourselves, don't overbid and make sure you give your body breaks. Minute is not being healthy with his binder rn, don't hurt yourself.'
yeah that was it, I don't want anyone to think they can wear a binder for 24 hours straight. (or gay) it's not healthy, it hurts.

“I still can’t believe you broke into the museum,” Jumper said, bouncing up and down on her side of the bench. Minute could see why her parents had named her Jumper.

“Well. Not so much breaking in as sneaking in,” he muttered, “There was no breaking involved.”

“Still,” Jumper shrugged, “You could have gone to jail for that! And all of that for a painting.”

“I had my reasons,” Minute said defensively.

“Yeah? Like what?”

Minute shrugged. “I was bored,” he said lamely.

In retrospect, it had been pretty stupid. Risking imprisonment or getting grounded for catching a painting? Maybe he hadn’t exactly thought it through. It was kinda too late now though, plus he hadn’t gotten caught, so he counted it as a win.

The wind blew his hair in his eyes, and he brushed it away, sighing. He really needed to get a haircut.

“D’you need a hair clip to keep it out of your eyes?” Jumper offered, “I have one,”

“Nah, it’s okay. I just really need a haircut.”

Jumper shrugged. “Suit yourself. Have you figured out why the paintings move yet?”

“No. Did you?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“I wonder if the paintings talk,” Minute said thoughtfully, “Maybe we could get them to tell us how they can move.”

“If they can also talk, wouldn’t they be entirely alive?” Jumper asked, “I was sort of hoping they were some kind of technology.”

Minute snorted. “I doubt it. And if they are robots or AI of some type, they messed up the white guy. He’s got a really strong personality. He flipped me off! And smiled when the guards were after me!”

Jumper laughed. “Well, I can see him being pretty pissed that someone watched him and then broke into the museum just to bother him more. And that he’s now joined forces with another person who knows the paintings move.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Minute picked at the unraveling seams on his sweatshirt. He hadn’t ever had a conversation like this. Not the moving paintings part, the part where someone he’d met less than twenty minutes ago was actually interested in his thoughts. At least, it seemed like it.

Jumper was just so easygoing and easy to talk to, unlike with Wemmbu. He’d purposely left behind all his old friends when he’d moved away, and he hadn’t put in any effort into making any new ones.

And besides, he didn’t entirely consider Wemmbu a friend. If Wemmbu was a friend, he wouldn’t have to monitor every single word that came out of his mouth, in case it would be used against him. He wouldn’t be in half as much pain if Wemmbu just gave up and left him alone.

Jumper waited patiently for him to zone back in before continuing. “If we found those two paintings, how many do you think can move?”

“Definitely not all of them, right? If it was all of them, I think we wouldn’t be the only ones to notice it. Maybe it’s only at this museum?”

“If it’s only at this museum, what makes this one special?” Jumper countered.

Minute shrugged. “I don’t know. Sorry, that was a stupid idea.”

Jumper blinked. “What? No, it’s not a bad idea at all, I was just thinking that if this museum brings paintings to life, then we should figure out how and why.”

“Oh,” Minute felt his face heat up, “Well. I don't know.”

Their conversation lapsed into silence. Minute fiddled with his sleeve again. He figured that someone should say something, but he didn’t know what to say. For that matter, he didn’t even know whether he should say something or Jumper should.

The silence got painfully long, and Minute realized that somebody needed to say something before it got even more uncomfortable, but the longer he waited the harder it was to open his mouth. He looked past Jumper instead, watching the clouds overhead.

“Sorry,” Jumper suddenly said. “Am I making you uncomfortable? I just don’t know what to say now.”

“No, it’s fine,” Minute lied.

Jumper squinted at him. “Are you sure? Because usually if I don't know what to say someone else will talk instead, but I guess we were both waiting for the other to say something.”

“Oh. Sorry,” Minute mumbled.

“It’s not your fault,” Jumper said, “I guess it makes sense. I’m really making you uncomfortable, aren’t I?”

Minute picked at his sweatshirt again. “Not you exactly. Just talking in general.”

“You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” Jumper offered, “Or do you want me to leave?”

Minute considered this. Usually he’d have said yes, he did want her to leave. Regardless of whether or not he liked her, he wasn’t about to risk it. But Jumper seemed nice, much nicer than anyone else his age that he knew. And besides, she was the only one who knew about the moving paintings as well.

“No. You’re better company than the squirrels. Besides, I don't mind talking when I have something to say. But sometimes I just don’t. And then people look at me like they want me to say something,” Minute said.

“That makes sense,” Jumper said, “I know that feeling. Usually I'm around enough people that they just talk instead of me. It’s fine, if you don’t feel like you wanna talk then just don’t talk. I’m not gonna get mad at you for it.”

Minute nodded slowly, relieved. “Oh. Okay, then. Thanks,”

“I’m glad I’m better company than the squirrels,” Jumper added, “That’s my sole goal in life!”

Minute smiled at little, the knot of tension slowly loosening. “I thought your sole goal in life was to jump as much as you could?”

“Oh.” Jumper delated. “Well, I guess I have multiple goals in life, then. Too bad.”

Minute laughed. “You look so disappointed! Multiple goals is better than no goals, at least.”

“That’s true,” Jumper admitted, “Well, since I'm somewhat good company, why don’t we solve this mystery together? Figure out how and why the paintings move?”

Minute shrugged. “Sure, I’ll call you when I have any ideas. It might be several months.”

Jumper frowned. “Hey, I'm sure we’ll think of something. And you don’t even have my phone number.”

“I know, that was to make a point,” Minute said.

“We’ll probably think of something.”

Minute didn’t really have anything to say to that, and besides, it was probably a cue to start trying to think of ideas. Their conversation drifted away again, but this time it wasn’t as awkward as before. Minute stared at the clouds again, not really seeing them. It was surprisingly nice to have someone to talk to if he wanted. Not forced to talk to them, but he could when he felt like it.

His mind drifted over to the painting. How could he figure out which paintings were alive and which ones weren’t? Could he rule out all the ones without people? Did they all have super realistic expressions? Would they have to sit for hours and watch each one for a slip-up? Were all the moving paintings painted by the same person?

Wait. Something about that last question tugged at him. He frowned, trying to figure it out. Jumper leaned in. “You’re figuring something out!”

“Shush,” Minute muttered, trying to focus.

Jumper nodded, and watched him closely as Minute tried to untangle the mess of string that was his thoughts. Could it be possible that all the paintings were painted by the same person? Wait, no, because the white guy didn’t have one, the artist was unknown. The whole thing was unknown, the title, the date of creation, the artist…

“Who made the drawing you were watching?” Minute asked suddenly. He had a theory now, but if Jumper’s was different, then it would be useless.

Jumper made a noise of confusion. “It says unknown, actually. Same thing with the title. Nobody knows who drew it.”

Minute smiled. “Same thing with mine. So, what I'm thinking is that all the moving art pieces are like that, with no knowledge about where or when or who they came from. Maybe we can figure out which ones move that way.”

Jumper beamed. “Awesome! It’s definitely worth a shot, right? Let’s go!”

It turned out that they couldn’t go straight to looking at the art again, because the museum was closing in less than ten minutes. So instead, they agreed to both come back the next day sometime after school, and parted ways to go home.

Notes:

yeah it's a shorter chapter, but I wanted to get to Leo's POV again before I did them sussing out the other artworks.

Chapter 6: Leo

Summary:

Leo makes more people angry, but he does gain an ally. maybe.

Notes:

I thought that I could set it so that the chapter comes out in a few days, but apparently I can't. I was trying to make the chapter come out while I'm on vacation. didn't work, so I'll just post it now. updates are probably gonna be slower for the next 2 weeks though.

“No. I left that all behind me, I’m not doing it,” Spoke said firmly.

Leo let out a growl of frustration. “But I literally don’t even know what ‘it’ is!”

“And it’s staying that way!” Spoke said, “Just solve this problem yourself, I put all those exploits and stuff behind me.”

“Spoke! This person is dangerous! And you’re refusing to help because of some stupid redemption! We could all die,” Leo snapped.

Spoke shook his head. “That’s my final answer, Leo. No.”

Clown, who had been watching the argument along with Vortex, stepped forward. “Spoke. Please think about this for a minute. You’re putting us all in danger. If this person broke into the museum, who knows what else he’ll do?”

Spoke hesitated for a moment, before shaking his head again. “I’m sorry, but no. I’ve already done enough damage.”

“Is this because Parrot stopped talking to you?” Leo demanded, “Because refusing to help isn’t gonna bring him back, y’know.”

Spoke flinched away, and Leo felt a flicker of regret.

“Leo,” Vortex said warningly, “That’s too far. Back off,”

Spoke shook his head, tears forming in his eyes. Leo winced awkwardly, unsure of what to do.

“Sorry,” He said quietly, “I didn’t mean- it wasn’t your fault, that’s not what I meant.”

Spoke whirled away, covering his face with his hands, before grabbing one of his chickens and hugging it tightly. Leo let out a sigh as Spoke half-ran, half-walked away, his face pressed against the protesting chicken.

“Great job, Leowook,” Clown said sarcastically, “You’ve successfully managed to alienate the only person who might be able to help us. I’m in awe of your absolute insensitivity.”

Leo buried his face in his hands, groaning. “Shit. I messed up so bad.”

“And you ruined our barbecue,” Vortex added coolly. “Incredible. Maybe you should leave before you piss the rest of us off as well. Although I'm pretty pissed off already, I don’t think you’ll have to try too hard.”

“Okay,” Leo muttered, “Yeah, I can tell you’re angry. I’ll leave,”

He trudged back to his painting, staring at the ground.

Leo spent the rest of the night sitting on his throne, desperately trying to figure out a way to get rid of the person. He’d pretty much ruined any chance of Spoke using this unexplained power he apparently had.

Things had gotten from bad to worse, and doubted they would get any better. Really, the best thing to do would be to try and scare away this person.

Maybe he could recruit Zam or Mapicc to be creepy, or ask Clown to threaten him. The only issue was that they were literally pieces of art, and he didn’t know how serious he would take them.

He already knew that Leo could move, and Leo doubted that he would second-guess himself and decide it was his imagination. So if Leo just held still, he’d probably only be more interested and want to force Leo to move.

As the lights in the museum started to turn on, Clown returned from the barbecue, munching on what surely was a chicken stolen from Spoke. His mask was off so he could eat, but his face was impassive like always.

“Hey,” he said, taking his normal place by the curtains.

Leo gave a slight nod of acknowledgment.

“There’s a chance that the kid was arrested, you know,” Clown said, “Actually, it’s highly likely that he got caught.”

Leo stared out into the hallway. “Well, we also thought that he wouldn’t come back again, but he did. I don’t think we can rely on what’s likely.”

Clown made a sound in the back of his throat. “Okay. But still, these are trained guards we’re talking about. Versus someone who’s either in high school or college. I think they can handle it.”

“Okay,” Leo said, “I’m trusting you, but I don’t think this’ll get better.”

Clown shrugged. “Well, after how you acted, it’s not like we’ll have Spoke’s mysterious power to protect us.”

Leo winced. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. Not my greatest moment.”

Clown finished his chicken and pulled down his mask, tossing the bone haphazardly behind him. “Well. The only thing to do is wait and see, I guess.”

Leo frowned, knowing he’d be the one to clean up that chicken bone. “Not many other options.”

Their stalker didn’t show up for the first half of the day, but that was normal. He never really came until later in the day. But, as the day wore on, Leo got more and more hopeful that he had been caught.

By the time there was less than an hour before the museum closed, Leo thought he was home free. He thought he must have been caught and sent to jail or something and that his stalker was gone.

So when he did come, Leo was pretty upset. He gave Leo a tired smile, his sketchbook in his hands. Leo’s hands twitched on his armrests. This person had the audacity to break into the museum and then come and smile at Leo the next day. It was infuriating.

The guy smirked slightly at Leo’s expression of repressed rage and sat down, watching him.

Clown let out a slow breath. “Looks like I was wrong.”

Leo wanted to shout No shit! at him, but he clamped his jaw shut, not wanting the guy to learn he could talk. He looked down at his sketchbook, obviously hoping Leo would take the chance to move around a bit.

Leo rolled his eyes; nobody who had a brain would be stupid enough to fall for that. Instead, he fixed his most terrifying glare on him.

“Try to look down on him more," Clown whispered, “Act like he’s an annoying little beetle, come on Leo, remember what I taught you.”

“I do!” Leo growled through gritted teeth, “Shut up and let me scare him!”

His eyes widened, and Leo resisted a satisfied smirk. Maybe he could scare him off, even without the help of the others. He certainly looked scared, his pencil freezing in place and his shoulders tensing.

But then he shook his head, laughing quietly to himself. Leo silently cursed. Maybe he did need help to scare him away. He started drawing, but Leo couldn’t see what it was. He watched him draw, glaring morosely at him. This person sucked!

A girl wearing a pink sweater walked down the hall, glancing at Leo’s stalker. Leo felt a sudden sense of foreboding. Was this the same person who was watching Vitalasy? She paused in front of his painting, watching the guy draw until he looked up.

“Hello,” he said slowly.

“Hi! I was just watching you draw. You’re really good.” Was she going to try to join forces with him? Were they going to work together to destroy him?

“Um. Thank you? I mean, I doubt that’s the only reason you came over here, but thanks.” Yeah, the real reason was probably something along the lines of ‘Let’s work together to expose all of Lifesteal!’

They talked more, something about ages that Leo didn’t care about. He was a painting, age meant literally nothing to him.

“What’s your name?” The girl asked suddenly.

“Minute.” Minute? What a freaking weird name! Well, at least he could stop calling him ‘the guy’ or ‘the person’. And maybe he could see if Ash could dig up some info on him.

“Jumper.” Jumper?! That was just as bad. Leo huffed, rolling his eyes. Who named these kids?

“Jumper? Do you jump a lot?” At least Minute seemed to understand how ridiculous her name was.

“Yeah, I can jump really high. Actually, my mom was a kangaroo,”

Minute glanced over her skeptically. “Sure, buddy… anyway, what do you think of the painting?”

He pointed at Leo. Great! So they were joining forces against him! He glowered at Jumper, who looked at him curiously. This was terrible.

“It’s… definitely a painting. It looks kinda like the person in it is having a seizure, though. Is he supposed to look like that?” Rude! Leo glared even more fiercely at her. First she watched Vitalasy for over a week, and now she was trying to work together with Minute to prove he was alive. This person might be even more of a threat than Minute.

Minute looked closer, and Leo resisted the urge to sneer at him.

“Oh, wow. He’s really mad about something,” Minute said, a ghost of a smile on his face. Leo vowed to get him back for all his obnoxious smug smiles.

“Stay calm, Leo,” Clown whispered.

Leo ground his teeth together angrily as Minute and Jumper talked in front of him. They were beating around the bush, hinting that they’d seen the paintings move but not outright saying it. Leo repressed a sigh; it was obvious that they’d both seen them move.

“So you’ve seen them move too?” Jumper finally asked eagerly.

Minute nodded. “Yeah, they move. Or at least, this one does.”

Clown sighed. “Well, it’s official. We are in deep shit.”

Both Minute and Jumper left, going to check out Vitalasy’s painting. Leo put his head in his hands, groaning.

“Clown, do you think there’s enough time to go warn him?”

Clown shook his head. “I don’t think so. He’ll just have to deal with it like we did.”

“We’re gonna talk to Vitalasy after they leave,” Leo said, “And we’re gonna figure out a way to remove those kids.”

 

“Why are you so big?”

Vitalasy blinked down at Leo, amused. “It’s just the scale of our artwork. Yours is much smaller.”

Leo sighed. “Can you believe I used to be taller than you?”

Clown dug his sharp fingernails into Leo’s shoulder, making him wince. “Back. On. Track,” he hissed into Leo’s ear.

A shiver of fear went down Leo’s spine. “Right! Did you see the two kids? One of whom was watching you for over a week?”

Vitalasy’s eyes lit up with understanding. “Oh! So you’re ‘the white guy’!”

Leo made a face. “Sure. Fine. I guess. Well, the guy’s name is Minute, which is just as bad. And your ‘friend’ is Jumper.”

Clown butted in. “Are you worried that these guys are going to expose us and as a consequence, get our paintings destroyed?”

Vitalasy tilted his head, thinking. “Well, even though Jumper’s been watching me for a long time already, she doesn’t seem like a threat. I think she’s just curious, she’s not trying to expose us.”

“Minute definitely is,” Leo declared, “I’m sure you’ve heard that he broke into the museum?”

Vitalasy raised his eyebrows. “Actually, I hadn’t until now.”

Leo blinked, a little hurt that nobody thought it was worth mentioning to Vitalasy. “Oh.”

“But that is really worrying,” Vitalasy continued, “I’d try to get rid of him if I were you,”

Clown nodded. “That’s what I’m trying to do.”

“We’re,” Leo corrected.

“So he’s working with Jumper now…” Vitalasy said thoughtfully, “This isn’t good.”

Leo nodded. “Exactly! I’ve been trying to convince Spoke to use his secret power to get rid of Minute, but-“

“More like he’s been trying to hurt Spoke’s feelings as much as possible,” Clown interrupted.

“I already apologized!” Leo complained, “I didn’t mean to make him upset!”

Vitalasy made a ‘slow down’ gesture. “Hold on, hold on. Spoke has a secret power? Other than, you know, the Wormhole exploits?”

Clown nodded. “Apparently.”

“Interesting,” Vitalasy said, “I never knew that.”

“I don’t think a lot of people know about it,” Leo said, “But anyway, would you be willing to help us with scaring Minute and Jumper away? If Spoke won’t help us, and they clearly know we’re alive, the best thing to do would probably be to scare them.”

Vitalasy nodded. “Yeah, sure. The less people know about us, the safer we are.”

 

The next day, Leo saw the two annoying stalkers hanging out together again. Minute paused at Leo’s painting to give him a bright little wave, and sauntered off with Jumper to do something. From what he overhead as they walked by, they were trying to figure out which art pieces could move.

Leo stuck his tongue out at the back of Minute’s head, fuming.

“Childish,” Clown whispered in his ear. “Very childish. Are you a two-year-old, LeoWook? Are you? You sure act like it.”

Leo crossed his arms, huffing. “You shut up, circus freak.”

Clown let out a dramatic gasp. “Oh! How rude, I don't think I'll ever be able to recover.”

Leo clutched his head. “And now they're bothering the others! They’ll figure out we can talk and move paintings and even what Spoke’s mysterious power is before we do!”

“Think about it this way,” Clown said reasonably, “The more people complain about those freaks trying to stalk them, the more likely he is to do something about it.”

Leo gave him a look. “Since Minute showed up, things have just been getting worse. I don’t think them meddling more is gonna make this better.”

Clown shrugged. “You never know.”

Notes:

if anyones wants to learn more about Vortex's art piece, I'll gladly ramble about it. then again, it might be a while before I can comment back :/
Clown canonically gave Leo lessons in 'how to be scary' beforehand :)

Chapter 7: Minute

Summary:

Minute draws and he and Jumper make a bad decision that ultimately turns out…..
I’m not finishing it, you gotta read it to see what happens. :)

Notes:

See I know I said that updates would be slow for the next two weeks, but I’ll suffer through writing on my phone if I have to, because atp I can’t go a day without writing at least a little.

So if I get caught and ppl learn I have an ao3 account, then I’ll just say it’s your guyses fault!

Minute was sitting in front of Jumper, staring at her, unblinking. His eyes watered, but he refused to close them.

After meeting Jumper yesterday, he’d gone back home and finally gotten some good sleep. He’d thankfully remembered to take off his binder before going to sleep, and his torso was hurting less now.

Jumper’s eye twitched, and Minute let out a sound of triumph. “I win!”

Jumper rolled her eyes. “Alright, alright. Now come on, we gotta go look at art.” She nodded at the museum's entrance.

“Fine,” Minute said, “But I still win. Don’t forget it.”

Jumper didn’t respond, just walked to the doors. They’d agreed to meet up in front of the museum. Minute followed her inside.

They wandered through the museum, passing by the white guy. Minute gave him a little wave as he passed. They paused at a painting of two people holding hands, their arms adorned in scraps of fabric.

“So,” Jumper said decisively, “Let’s start here, and work our way though.”

Minute nodded, looking down at the plaque. Eschew, painted with acrylic on canvas by Roberto David. Date of creation: 1978. Not this one then. He moved on, methodically working his way down the hall.

He paused at a drawing of a man in a red jacket, wearing modern clothes and looking completely out of place in the medieval battle scene around him. Someone stood next to him, considerably shorter and wearing a bright yellow mask, holding a sword dripping with blood. Minute leaned closer, noticing that the man in red had horns and a bandanna, glaring out of the painting.

Super realistic expressions, check. This could be a moving painting. Minute checked the plaque. Unknown, oil pastel on canvas by Unknown. Date of creation: Unknown. Bingo.

Minute whirled around, tracking down Jumper at the other end of the hallway and dragging her over to the painting. He pointed out the info panel and grinned at her. Jumper gave him a thumbs-up, and grabbed her phone to take a picture.

“This is awesome, we’re already finding some of them!” she said cheerfully, lifting up her phone.

Minute lightly placed his hand over her phone’s camera. “We’re not allowed to take pictures, remember?”

Jumper lowered her phone, looking disappointed. “Then how are we gonna remember which ones might be able to move or not?”

Minute shrugged. They both stewed in silence for a moment.

“Wait, drawing is allowed,” Jumpe said suddenly, “Minute! You can just draw the paintings!”

“Oh,” Minute blinked, “Um. Okay, I guess?”

He hadn’t really drawn much with other people watching him, he mostly kept his artwork to himself. He’d only let her watch him draw yesterday because he’d been more focused on getting the drawing right.

“And if I go looking for more art with no info, then we’ll be killing two birds with one stone,” Jumper continued, “Did you bring your sketchbook?”

Minute nodded. “Okay, sure. I’ll draw while you search.”

He spent the next few minutes sketching out the panting in front of him. It was way different than the white guy’s, because of the detail in the background. He could literally see all the bodies behind the people on fire, and it was sort of hard to replicate that kind of intricacy with just a pencil, and not even a very good one.

Even worse, the people shifted slightly while he was drawing. Minute was sure they were doing it on purpose, moving just enough to mess up his proportions but not enough to point and shout “the painting is different now!” He ground his teeth, getting more and more frustrated as the guy in the red shirt’s expression grew more and more smug.

Eventually, he gave up and deemed that it was close enough for them to figure out which one it was again. And besides, Jumper had found their next target.

This one looked like it was a digital piece of art, featuring a shadowy figure with a long braid hunched over a glowing computer, with what looked like glitches on the screen. Actually, it looked like there were glitches on the person too, like they were part of the computer program itself.

Minute tried to draw it, but it was even harder than the first one. Each individual glitch was impossible to sketch, making it look like he’d just scratched his drawing out in some places.

Jumper also had him draw a picture of a guy hunched alone in what looked to be outer space with no stars, his light purple cloak pulled up over his head. That one was easier to draw.

By then it was getting late and the museum was closing soon, so Minute and Jumper decided to just end it for the day and leave the museum.

As Minute turned away, about to head down the street, Jumper called after him. “Minute! Wait!”

He turned back around. “What?”

“Can I have your phone number? So we can talk?” Jumper asked, “If you don’t have a phone that’s fine too.”

Minute blinked surprised. “Um. I do have a phone. Wait, let me get it out. I don’t know what my number is.”

Jumper laughed. “You don’t know your own number?”

Minute shrugged. No one had asked for his number before other than Wemmbu, and that had been ages ago. He pulled it out and read off his number to Jumper. She sent him a quick text as confirmation, and then they split ways to their separate houses.

 

Minute rolled onto his bed, stretching his arms out. He grabbed his phone and opened it to his contacts, adding Jumper’s name in.

It felt odd, having someone new’s number. The last time that had happened was several years ago. Although, he really only had himself to blame, he’d meant for that to happen.

He sent her a text.

Minute: hi

After a few seconds, he got a response.

Jumper: Hello!! Do we need to make a plan for tomorrow?

Minute: i dont know, depends

Jumper: what do you wanta do?

Minute set his phone to the side, thinking.

Jumper: minute?

Minute: aren’t we just gonna do what we did today

Minute: looking for more moving paintings?

Jumper: well i was thinking taht we could look at the paintings that we think could moon

Jumper: *move

Jumper: and see if they change

It wasn’t a bad plan, Minute had to admit. But they just might not notice any minuscule changes. To be fair, after the difficulties the first painting gave him, he was pretty sure that that one at least was alive, but they could still miss things.

But when Minute had snuck into the museum, not only had the white guy been super out of place, but he’d also looked totally shocked to see Minute there. They’d have a better chance of catching moving paintings if they snuck in late at night.

Minute: so how do you feel about sneaking into the museum?

Jumper: are you planning on doing it again? As long as you don’t get caught I think its fine.

Minute: we’d have a better chance of figuring out which ones can move if we went while they arent expecting it. i was thinking we could go together

Jumper: ok tgats true but it’s still breaking into the museum

Minute: ok we don’t have to. I just thought it could work

Jumper: well we could if you sear we won’t get caught

Jumper: *swear

Well, that was something at least. It wasn’t a no, and maybe he could convince her to go. It’d be less ‘Night at the Museum'-esque if he had some company. Plus, double the eyes meant double the chance of catching a painting out of place.

The only hard part would be convincing her without lying about how safe it was.

Minute: can’t say anything for sure

Minute: but im pretty good at getting out of sticky situations

There, that wasn’t a lie, he was good at convincing people that he was just a confused kid.

Jumper: I’ll think about it

Minute: well think soon cuz if we wanna to it tomorrow then I need to know tonight

Jumper: geez why

Minute: cuz you’ll need extra sleep

Jumper: alright then lets do it!!

Minute was honestly surprised that she’d agreed so quickly, but he decided not to question it and risk her changing her mind.

He told her she’d need to sleep in, and to take a nap when she got home from school. She needed to come to the museum about an hour before it closed and meet him there with her phone and maybe a small flashlight if she had one.

And then the plan was set, they’d meet up and try to take pictures of the paintings when they least expected it.

Minute met her outside the museum again, wearing his darkest hoodie. Jumper was still wearing her pink sweater, and Minute sighed.

“Sorry, do I need to change into something darker?” Jumper said apologetically.

Minute shrugged. “It’ll probably be fine. Come on,”

He led her to the bathrooms, and gestured toward them. “Now we just wait in there until like midnight.”

Jumper looked surprised. “That’s it? I mean, I know that’s what you said you did, but it’s really that easy? They don’t check them or clean them?”’

“Well, not when I did it,” Minute said, “I honestly don’t know when they clean them, though.”

“So it theoretically could be tonight?”

Minute nodded. Jumper took a deep breath. “Well, at least you’re not lying about how safe it actually is just to make me feel better.”

Minute shrugged. “It did cross my mind, but I don’t think I can afford to piss off the only person who tolerates me and isn’t a total psychopath.”

“…so you’re saying that if you had more friends you’d lie to me?” Jumper raised her eyebrows.

Minute winced. He hadn’t meant it like that. “No, not like that, just-“

“I’m just teasing,” Jumper assured him. “Let’s go infiltrate the museum!”

“Okay, which bathroom are you more comfortable with us being in?” Minute asked.

Jumper dragged him over to the Women's bathroom. “Are you sure you’d be comfortable in the woman’s though?”

Minute almost snorted. Yeah, he was okay with using the womens, he’d used it since he was a baby. He still used it when he didn’t feel safe enough to use the men’s. “I’ll be fine.”

They squeezed into a stall, and climbed onto the toilet, tucking in their legs. It was a tight fit, and Minute was painfully aware of how his body brushed Jumper’s.

“This is probably so uncomfortable for you,” Jumper whispered. “You said you didn’t like being touched. Do you wanna stay in separate stalls?”

Minute considered, and shook his head. If they did get caught, it would be easier to explain their existence if they were in the same stall.

They waited there. People came and went, slowing down as the museum closed. Minute and Jumper stayed as quiet as they could until nobody was coming in anymore, when Minute decided it was safe enough to talk.

“By the way,” Jumper whispered, “What’s your plan for if we get caught?”

Minute shrugged. “Well, I just thought that a girl and a guy in the same stall who are clearly not related will probably be assumed to be a couple. And honestly, letting them think that and just acting like we are would probably be easier. I don’t think the ‘sorry I thought the museum was still open my mom was supposed to tell me when it closes wait where is she did she leave without me?’ Trick would work here.”

Jumper nodded. “Oh. Okay.”

Minute tilted his head at her. “If you’re uncomfortable with that I’ll try to think of a different plan.”

Jumper thought for a second. “Nah, you’re right, that’ll probably work the best.”

Minute shrugged. “Okay.”

They waited together in silence. Minute watched the clock on his phone, waiting quietly. Maybe he’d freaked Jumper out by suggesting that they pretended to be dating if they got caught, but it was genuinely the least suspicious reason to be in a stall together past closing time.

“Are you good at acting?” Minute asked.

Jumper shrugged. “Good enough, I think.”

Minute grinned. “You can absolutely make a scene if you want. We could probably guilt trip whoever might find us into letting us go. I mean, that person would be getting in the way of true love!”

Jumper laughed. “Yeah, they're ruining our relationship!”

Minute rested his head on the back of the toilet. “I think together we could get out of it.”

Their conversation drifted into comfortable silence, and Minute let himself smile.

Footsteps coming into the bathroom made them both tense. Minute whirled to face Jumper.

“I didn’t expect the janitors to come,” he whispered.

Jumper gave him a look.”What, you thought they just didn’t clean the bathrooms?”

Minute shrugged as the person opened the stall next to them with a loud noise, humming. “They weren’t there last time,”

“Well, now we have to use our plan,” Jumper said.

The footsteps stopped in front of their stall. Jumper and Minute instinctively grabbed onto each other. The door banged open, and then Minute was face-to-face with a tired looking janitor.

“Please don’t call our parents!” Jumper blurted out quickly.

Minute just blinked. The janitor blinked too, looking absolutely baffled. “What in the world are you kids doing here?“

Kids?! Minute frowned. “We we’re just- look, this was an accident! We wanted some alone time together and-“

Jumper cut him off. “We can just leave! Our parents don’t approve, we needed to meet somewhere!”

The janitor blinked slowly. “Huh? This is weird.”

Jumper nodded emphatically. Minute stepped in front. “We made a mistake, but if you let us go without calling our parents you’ll never see us again, I swear.”

The janitor, which Minute could now see was wearing a name tag with the name Chief on it, looked from Minute to Jumper. “Um. You two are together? And you came here to… hang out?”

Minute cringed. “Well, more than just hang out, but yeah.”

“Just show us how to get out, and we’ll be out of your hair,” Jumper said.

Chief gawked at them. “Am I hallucinating two kids who came to the museum bathroom to make out? Maybe I need to up my medication.”

Minute struggled to keep a straight face. This was even better than he thought, they could just convince this man that they were figments of his imagination. One glance at Jumper's barely concealed grin, and Minute knew she’d thought the same.

“Chief! We just wanna stay out of trouble.” Jumper said convincingly, her voice threatening to tip over into giggles.

Chief stared at her. “How the fuck do you know my name?”

“We’re just here to help you reconsider your choices,” Minute said, keeping in a snort of laughter. “Imagine if you had taken that chance when you were younger. You could have had young love like us!”

Jumper suddenly grabbed him and buried her face into Minutes shoulder. Minute bristled at the contact, but didn’t pull away.

From Chief’s point of view, Jumper was so overcome with emotion that she was crying into her lover’s shoulder. Minute knew that she was laughing silently at Chief and needed to hide it.

“Look how distraught she is at the thought of us never meeting!” Minute continued, bravely staying in character. “You should have taken that chance when you had it,”

Chief looked baffled. He was slowly backing away, his mop held out in front of him like a weapon.

Jumper let out an unconvincing sob. “And now he’s pointing weapons at us! We'll never be happy!”

Chief looked even more bewildered. “It’s just a mop,” he muttered.

“Like I said, if you let us out without calling our parents, we won’t talk to you ever again,” Minute said, pressing his face into the top of Jumper’s head to hide the grin. “We’ll disappear like the rest of your hallucinations.”

Chief nodded, his eyes wide. “Um. Okay. You’ll leave me alone if I do that?”

Jumper pulled herself away from Minute, her face streaked with tears of laughter. “None of your hallucinations will ever bother you again,”

Chief beckoned them to follow, and stopped out of the cramped stall, muttering to himself. “I need to talk to my doctor again. He said that this stupid medication would take care of these mind melters. He was wrong! Stupid fucking subconscious not letting me forget about Dianne.”

Minute collapsed into Jumper, clamping his hands over his mouth to muffle his laughter. Chief led them through the museum to the unlit front lobby. The sky outside was already pretty dark, around dusk.

He unlocked the doors, and actually shoved both of them outside. “Goodbye! And good riddance!”

Jumper smiled sweetly. “It was nice meeting you!”

“You should have asked Dianne out!” Minute called out, grinning. “She would have said yes, but you were too much of a chicken and missed your chance!”

“Shut up!” Chief shouted through the glass door. “Leave me alone! I hate you all!”

Minute cackled as Chief stomped away, his hands clapped over his ears.

Notes:

It’s totally up to interpretation whether the Chief character is ChiefXD or That Chief Guy. Take your pick!

And if you looked at the tags you’ll see I added ‘crack treated seriously’ and changed the name.

Also I heard Derapchu was reading fics on stream, someone please give me a link to that, I need it!
Oh that first painting title was totally made up.
This will not turn into a chat fic but just saying ‘they made plans to break into the museum over text’ is super boring

People please tell me if there’s a misspelling or missing word! I can miss it and then when I reread it months later it’s physically painfull to see the mistakes I missed and no one told me about!

Chapter 8: Leo

Summary:

arguments and spoke power reveal!
Leo thinks space walking is hard, he gets the hang of it. eventually.

Notes:

rhayne is posting this for me, because I’m gonna have zero internet for this week. Well, I might have some, but the more pressing issue is the lack of power outlets, and I need my phone for emergency calls.
Rhayne is really nice and is beta reading this for me!

Mapicc stormed around Leo’s painting, growling to himself. Leo watched with more than a little trepidation. Mapicc was well-known for his temper, and he was clearly furious right now.

“Calm down, Mape,” Clown said lazily, “We’ll figure this out.”

“No!” Mapicc was practically tearing his hair out with frustration. “Clown! Leo! You guys know those people, right? Look, the guy spent literally fifteen minutes trying to draw me! Draw me! It’s like he knew I wasn't supposed to be there!”

“Well…” Leo said carefully. “I agree, it’s weird, that’s what I’ve been saying for a long time now, but also you really weren’t supposed to be in Zam’s painting.”

Mapicc growled again. “I don’t care, Bacon is boring right now. All he does is gripe and moan about Planet. And all Planet does is hang around our painting! He just can’t go a day without tackling Bacon with a hug, it’s actually annoying. At least Zam is somewhat interesting,”

Clown coughed. “Really. Planet not being able to keep his paws off of Bacon? That’s old news, Mapicc. Get with the times, old man.”

Mapicc’s face turned red. “I am. At least several hundred years. Younger than you,” he hissed violently. “You stupid jester. I have a hoodie! Hoodies were invented long after idiot clowns like you.”

“Guys, let’s all calm down,” Leo said worriedly. He really didn’t want to be stabbed today, and Mapicc was absolutely the stabby type when he got mad. “We agree that Minute and Jumper are an issue, right? So let’s figure out how to solve it.”

Mapicc sighed. “I already went to Spoke. And he said not to worry about it. Like these guys hadn’t also harassed Ash and Ro.”

“Wait what?” Clown asked.

Mapicc nodded. “Yeah, I talked to them. They were watched and drawn as well. I don’t think they went to Spoke about it though.”

Leo quickly stood up. “Let’s go talk to them! Maybe Spoke will listen to us if there’s enough of us.”

Clown shoved him back down, snickering. “Nuh uh uh! What do you think’ll happen if Minute breaks into the museum again and sees you’re missing? You’re on house arrest from now on, buddy.”

Leo glared at him. “You can’t do that! I don’t wanna be stuck here, we need to convince Spoke to use his secret power!”

“Oh, like that excellent job you did convincing him last time?” Clown scoffed, “I haven’t seen him that upset in a long time.”

“What ‘secret’ power?” Mapicc asked.

Leo huffed, annoyed. “We don’t know! He won’t even tell us, much less use it.”

Mapicc frowned. “Okay, stay here, I'll go get Ro and Ash.”

“Like I'm allowed to go anywhere,” Leo muttered and Clown called after Mapicc. “Get Vitalasy as well, he knows stuff.”

 

Mapicc quickly returned with the others, and after a brief hello, Clown forced them all to sit in a circle, ‘criss-cross-applesauce’, in his own words. Leo rolled his eyes, but complied. Ash demanded to be paid for it, so Clown simply waved his scythe around menacingly until they all sat down.

Leo cleared his throat to get their attention. “So, as we all know, these people named Jumper and Minute have been-”

Mapicc interrupted. “They watched all of us! They seem to know we’re alive, and I think they’ve been trying to get proof.”

“That’s what I was saying!” Leo said indignantly. Nobody paid him any attention, other than a pitying look from Vitalasy.

“We’ve tried going to Spoke separately before,” Mapicc continued. Leo made a noise of disgust. “And he keeps blowing us off. So I think we should all go together and convince Spoke to use his secret power.”

Leo gave Mapicc an affronted look. This was why he never talked to Mapicc without a really good reason, he was always really mean to Leo for some reason. It wasn’t like Leo had ever attacked him, at least not that he could remember. Then again, he’d attacked a lot of people.

The others were nodding along, though, and it was clear none of them cared that Mapicc had just stolen Leo’s idea.

Mapicc stood up. “Come on, let’s go.”

Leo stood up to follow the others as they walked toward the edge of the painting.

“Wait, Leo,” Mapicc called over his shoulder, “Don’t you have to stay behind if Minute breaks into the museum again?”

“What? You-” Leo spluttered, furious, “I-”

Mapicc had already left the painting, and then the others left and Leo was alone. He stared at where Mapicc had left, stewing in his thoughts. Mapicc had swept the rug out from under his feet so cleanly it was almost as if he’d planned this months in advance. Leo sat down on his thorns, crossing his arms and glaring into the dark hall.

“I don’t like Mapicc,” Leo muttered, “He’s so mean.”

“He’s nice if you’re on his good side,” a voice chirped from behind him.

Leo nearly jumped out of his skin. “Holy fuck, Planet. What the hell?”

Planet smiled brightly, cosmic colors swirling around in his head. “If you’re Bacon or Zam then he’ll give you potions and cool rocks ‘n stuff. But if he doesn’t like you then you're out of luck.”

Leo rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I gathered that from the way he likes to steal all my ideas. And then shove me out of the group.”

Planet giggled, and enveloped Leo in a hug from behind, awkwardly throwing his arms over his throne. Leo tried to edge away. “No offense, but I haven’t really talked to you enough for me to be okay with you randomly hugging me.”

Planet’s antenna drooped. “Awwww. But I'm being super nice!”

Leo nodded skeptically. “And you’re also very good at stabbing people.”

 

Planet smiled at him. “Well, yeah! It’s fun! By the way, what are you waiting here for?”

Leo sighed. “For a random person to come up and shine a light in my face again? I don’t really know.”

Planet hummed. “Spoke told me about that guy coming to see you in the middle of the night. What did you say his name was? Mikid or something?”

“Minute, and how’d you hear that?” Leo narrowed his eyes, “Were you eavesdropping?”

Planet did his best to blink innocently, tilting his head. He managed it better than Clown, but Spep would definitely do better. “How could I? Your painting has no eves. I won’t tell you whether or not I was listening in from the curtains, though.” he pointed helpfully to the curtains on the side of his painting.

Leo rolled his eyes. Of course Planet had listened in. “Is there any reason you decided to reveal yourself now and not earlier?”

Planet shrugged. “I didn’t think they’d like me shoving myself in there. Besides, I really like spying on people. And I was thinking I could convince you to spy on them with me. It’s more fun with a partner.”

Leo tilted his head. “What do you mean? Are you offering to spy on them talking with Spoke?”

Planet clapped his hands together, beaming. “Yes! We’ll have so much fun together! Let’s go.”

Planet dragged Leo from his painting through Terry’s painting to his and Spoke’s painting. He pulled Leo behind a spiky horse and crouched down, shushing him.

Leo could hear Mapicc shouting the moment he stepped into the over-bright abstract painting.

“What do you mean you won’t do it?!” Mapicc shouted, “We could all be exposed and then destroyed! Why the fuck won’t you help?!”

Spoke’s murmured response was too quiet for Leo to make out the words, but Leo could tell from Ash’s long-suffering sigh that it wasn’t a yes.

“Mape, calm down a bit,” Ro said rationally, “Shouting isn’t gonna make him wanna help us more.”

“Fine,” Mapicc said, “Spoke. We all know you have a secret power. We want you to use it to get rid of these people who are endangering us. Got it?”

Leo wasn’t able to stop himself from opening his mouth. “Hey! That was my idea! You stole it from me!”

Vitalasy looked confused. “Weren’t you staying behind so that Minute wouldn’t get proof that you moved? If he breaks in?”

Ash interrupted. “What do you mean he stole your idea?”

“I’m the one who came up with asking Spoke to help us in the first place,” Leo complained, “Mapicc just interrupted me and stole my idea.”

The others turned to look at Mapicc, who shrugged. “Hey, you gotta admit his expression was hilarious.”

Clown chuckled. “Agreed.”

Ro nodded, and Leo glared furiously at them. “You’re all traitors, I hate you all.”

Planet popped his head up from behind the horse. “Hi!” he said cheerfully, “We were spying on you, but now that Leo got himself caught, I guess there’s not much point in hiding anymore.”

“What?” Mapicc spluttered, “This is so fucking weird, bro. We’re so off-track, I was just trying to talk to Spoke about his power.”

Ro cleared his throat. “Spoke, what exactly is this ‘power’ of yours?”

Spoke, who’d been edging away as subtly as he could, jumped. “It’s not important because I’m not going to use it.” he said stubbornly.

Leo scowled at him. “These kids are going to ruin us. What else can we do?”

Spoke shrugged. “Literally anything else, I’m not doing exploits again.”

“Who else knows how to do this mysterious power?” Mapicc demanded, stepping closer.

Spoke shrank away from him. “Technically not anyone else right now-“

“So somebody else used to know how?” Leo asked.

Spoke shook his head. “No, but if they’d known they could, they’d have the power to.”

“Who?” Mapicc demanded, stepping up into Spoke’s face again.

Spoke took several steps back. “Guys, let’s not-“

Vitalasy interrupted him. “Spoke, I’ve been watched for over two weeks now. Leo’s been literally stalked; Minute broke into the museum. This isn’t some random thing, they're methodically figuring us out.”

Spoke sighed. “Fine. Go talk to Spepticle then.”

 

“I don’t know about you, but I find it pretty hard to believe Spep can - or could - do Spoke’s power,” Ash said.

They were currently crawling through the mess that was under Ash’s desk. A cable wound itself around Leo’s foot and yanked his leg out from under him. He got a mouthful of dust bunnies, his jaw hitting the ground with a sharp crack.

He grumbled at Ash, who just shrugged. “I never use this side of the drawing. Why would it be clean?“

Mapicc thankfully didn’t laugh at Leo’s stumble. Probably because he was having some trouble himself, the sharp tips of his horns caught in the rough underside of Ash’s desk. He looked ready to kill Ash.

“How do you get to Spepticle in this mess?” he muttered angrily.

Ash gave him a look. “Dude. I don’t think I’ve ever deliberately set out to see him. Like, I never wake up and decide I wanna visit Spep that day. I never use it, and besides, it’s under my fucking desk.”

“He has a point,” Ro admitted.

“I should have taken the long way like Clown,” Vitalasy said, “Something tells me that would actually have been quicker.”

“And less dusty,” Leo added.

“And less things for my horns to get stuck on,” Mapicc snapped.

Leo rolled his eyes. “Oh yes, your precious horns.”

Mapicc shoved him hard, and Leo’s jaw hit the ground again. He rubbed it, grimacing. He’d probably have a bad bruise tomorrow.

A hand reached under the desk from the other side, and Leo grabbed it, letting Clown pull him out into the light. He blinked, his eyes adjusting to the new scenery.

Tall trees with bright green leaves stood around him, brightly colored flowers surrounding them. Leo blinked, and they morphed into clouds of dust and stars, the sunlight turning into faint starlight, and his feet leaving the ground from the lack of gravity.

Spep’s price of art was probably one of the most confusing, with its dual pictures. He’d shared a painting with Subz and Clutch before, but had somehow gotten his own. Spep had tried to explain it to Leo before, something about lenticular printing and splitting the two pictures up and slotting them together. Leo’s brain had literally exploded.

All he really needed to know was that when you stood at different angles around the art, the picture changed from Spep sitting in the middle of flowers in a forest to Spep floating in space with a spacesuit on.

Leo blinked again, and then the forest was back, small yellow flowers crushed when he landed on the ground again. He sighed. This would get old quick.

Ash managed to get out from under his desk, instantly doing a somersault in midair before landing on his back in the flowers again. He growled, grabbing a handful of the flowers to hold himself down.

“How the fuck does Spep deal with this?” he demanded, cursing loudly as the flowers turned into stardust, zero gravity making his braid float in his eyes.

Mapicc, Vitalasy, and Ro only did marginally better, with Ro accidentally landing on Mapicc, who shouted in his ear in retaliation. Leo laughed at them, and his head somehow collided with a rocky planet.

He tried to punch the planet and it turned into sunlight again, making him lose his balance and fall.

Spep bounded up to them, alternating between skipping and leaping through outer space. “Hey guys!” he said cheerfully.

“How do you do this?!” Leo shrieked, nearly breaking his neck on a tree that materialized.

“I don’t think Leo can find his space legs,” Clown said with amusement, somehow keeping his balance. “It’s pretty easy.”

Spep beamed at them. “It’s okay, it took me a while to get used to it as well. You sort of have to guess when it’s gonna switch and hop when it does, so you don’t land on your back.”

Leo hopped as the space version appeared again, floating up. When gravity returned, he fell straight down, more or less landing on his feet again. “Oh. Makes sense, I guess.”

It didn’t seem to work for Ash, who was flailing his limbs frantically. Mapicc, who’d managed to get the hang of it surprisingly quick, grabbed hold of Ash’s braid to keep him steady.

Ash looked ready to kill him. “Fucking touch my hair and I’ll rip your fucking horns off,” he spat.

Mapic quickly let go, shrugging. “Hey, I’m trying to help you. Whatever.”

Ro’s hoodie hood kept floating off his head, so he used both hands to hold it on. Leo didn’t see why he hated to take it off, his hair wasn’t that bad, but it really could use some work. A haircut maybe, and he really needed to change the color.

“Spep, we have some questions for you,” Ro said calmly, ignoring Vitalasy’s attempts to hold onto his hand to avoid floating away.

“Okay!” Spep said cheerfully. His spacesuit muffled his voice, but only when the space version of him was visible and he was wearing it, so it gave his voice a really odd effect. “Sure! I’ve been hoping for some company lately, actually. I haven’t seen you guys in a while.”

He nudged Leo’s shoulder, accidentally making him hit an asteroid. “Sorry, my bad! Need any help?”

“No thanks, I’m good,” Leo said politely, “This is actually really serious, we need information.”

Spep’s eyes lit up. “No way! I’m gonna be in something serious? This is awesome! Wait, is this about the trick I played on Branzy with the pig race? Because I actually really needed those diamonds.”

“No, no,” Clown said softly, “But if you want it to be, we can absolutely have a conversation about that.”

Spep laughed nervously. “Well, we don’t have to… I mean, it’s not really relevant, right? I’m sure we can all just forget about it. Right?”

Mapicc rolled his eyes. “Sure buddy. Anyway, Vitalasy, can you recap for him? You’re the one that’s been stalked the longest.”

Vitalasy nodded, letting go of Ro’s hoodie to float-walk forward. “We’re being watched by a couple of people, and we heard Spoke has a secret power that can be used to help us, but he won’t use it. He told us to come talk to you instead. Do you know what it is? Can you also do it?”

Spep’s smile didn’t leave his face, but it did fade a little. “Oh, I have to talk about that? Aww…”

“So you know something,” Ash said, his eyes narrowing, “Tell us or we’ll make your fucking life hell.”

Spep winced. “Threats aren’t necessary, and can you please not swear?”

“Fuck. Shit. Bitch,” Ash said helpfully.

Vitalasy gave him an annoyed look. “Spep, we’re just trying to get some info and we’ll be out of here. And don’t worry, nobody’s going to ‘make your beeping life hell.’”

“Why’d you have to beep it out?” Ro complained.

Spep made a little thinking sound. “Okay. How much do you wanna know?”

“As much as we can squeeze outta you,” Mapicc said dangerously.

Spep looked slightly scared.

“What he’s trying to say is that you’re his last hope, and he’s terrified because if you don’t help him, he’ll probably start crying,” Clown said smoothly.

“Fuck you, Clown,” Mapicc growled.

Spepticle looked pleased. “You need me to help you! Okay, let’s make this fun! Do you guys know how I joined this collection of living artwork?”

Ash rolled his eyes. “I don’t fucking give a damn, just tell us.”

“Guess!” Spep said happily, waving his hands around excitedly.

Mapicc sighed. “Weren’t you and the rest of the applicants added when this museum got your painting?”

“Wait, I thought he just spawned in one day,” Leo interjected, “Like he just appeared in that painting. It was already there and he just appeared with the other applicants.”

“Subz said they used to be real people, but he clammed up when I tried to ask more questions,” Vitalasy said.

The others stared at him and he shrugged. “That’s just what I heard.”

Mapicc laughed. “No way. That’s stupid, he was messing with you, I bet.”

Ro tilted his head. “I don’t know, it seems pretty suspicious that none of us can agree on how Spep got here.”

Ash huffed, still struggling to remain upright. “He appeared when the artist was done painting him, like the rest of us. What’s there to argue about? It’s not like a painting could be created in any other way than painting, and that’s what Spep’s original media form was.”

Spep’s eyes glinted mischievously. “Actually, people using exploits can bend that rule a little, if they know how. And Parrot did know how, but probably only because Spoke showed him.”

“What do you mean by that?” Vitalasy asked, “Was Subz right about you once being a real person?”

Spep nodded. “That’s how Parrot had to deal with me, Clutch, and Subz being so obsessed with the moving art. I watched Terry’s, and I think the other two watched the Poggies’ painting at the time. Of course, Parrot told us all to keep quiet about it.”

Leo stared at him, trying to absorb the info. “Parrot put you and the other applicants into a painting?”

Spep nodded. “He pulled us into a new painting. So that we couldn’t tell anyone about the moving paintings. Can’t tell a secret if you’re part of that secret.”

Leo nodded. “That makes sense.”

“It’s irreversible, though,” Spep added, “It’s more of a last resort. Please don’t ask Spoke to paintify some random person.”

Leo shrugged. “We might not have a choice. Minute and Jumper are getting more and more dangerous.”

“Who’s that?” Spep asked.

Ash glowered at Spep, somehow landing on his head when the gravity changed. “I hate you. You and your stupid moon art thing. I can’t fucking stand up straight.”

“Why do you want to be straight?” Ro deadpanned, “You’re clearly not, and never will be.”

“Shut up!” Ash hissed, “And. Jumper and Minute are the ones that have been drawing people and watching us too closely. It’s creepy. And Minute broke into the building.”

Spep’s eyes went wide. “Oh wow, I never did that. Maybe I should have, it would have been so much fun. We could sneak in, and wear ski masks like they do in movies.”

“And get caught and shot,” Mapicc said bluntly, “Anything else you know about Spoke’s no longer secret power?”

Spep shook his head. “Not really, that’s all I know. Ooooh!” he clapped his hands together, his eyes lighting up. “But you guys can stay! We can make flower crowns together!”

Ash snorted derisively.

“Sorry, but we’re gonna try to convince Spoke,” Mapicc said, “Maybe he’ll use his power if we blackmail him. Or threaten him!”

“With what?” Vitalasy said nervously, “Plus, I really don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“We can threaten to tell everyone what he can do,” Ro pointed out, “That could work.”

Leo didn’t think it would work, but he wasn’t really listening. “Where’s Clown? Did he leave?”

Mapicc glanced around. “Yeah, he did. That’s weird.”

They looked around, making sure he wasn’t anywhere in the painting. Leo gave up, deciding the Clown probably wasn’t in any danger. Actually, he probably was the danger, wherever he was.

They said goodbye to Spep, and made sure to take the long way back, except for Ash, who just decided he’d deal with the dust and get to his art piece quickly. Vitalasy and Ro split apart, each heading back to their own artworks.

Leo stayed with Mapicc, not really wanting to go back to his own painting quite yet, and he didn’t have anything else to do.

Mapicc spoke without turning around. “You can stay with me if you want, I don't care.”

“I don’t need your permission,” Leo said, still miffed about him stealing his idea.

They reached Zam’s painting, a mess of bloody corpses and broken weapons. Mapicc sat down on a rock, swinging his legs. “Actually, you do, ‘cuz this is my painting, but whatever.”

“It’s Zam’s.” Leo said shortly, sitting down next to him.

Mapicc ignored him. “I hope he didn’t notice I'm wearing modern clothes on an ancient battlefield.”

“He probably did.”

Mapicc scowled. “Fuck. I'm really not supposed to be here during the daytime. But at this point, I'm here so often it would be even weirder if I disappeared.”

“Too late now, I guess.” Leo resisted saying I told you so.

“Probably a good idea not to return to your painting just yet,” Mapicc said, deftly switching topics, “Clown and Branzy are probably there fawning over each other.”

Leo wrinkled his nose. “Somehow, I don't think so. I think Clown probably stayed at Branzy’s painting, he knows it bothers me.”

Mapicc opened his mouth to respond and Zam burst into the painting, his face streaked with tears. Mapicc leapt to his feet, a hand already on a sword lying on the rock. “What happened? Are you okay?”

Zam heaved in lungfuls of air, his mask in one hand and his other on his knee. “Mape- this is crazy-”

“What?” Mapicc demanded. Leo got ready to run in case Mapicc decided the situation required violence.

Zam breathed quickly for several more seconds before answering. “Those kids- they showed up again, they were trying to sneak into the museum.”

Leo’s blood ran cold. “Oh shit. I wasn’t supposed to leave my painting.”

Zam shook his head, giggling. “Nah, you’re fine. The janitor, he- he found them and he thought they were his hallucinations!” He collapsed on the ground, wheezing with laughter. “That was so dumb! I can’t believe they managed to convince him that!”

Mapicc stared at Zam laughing on the floor, and then looked up at Leo, who shrugged. “This is not gonna get any less weird, is it?” he muttered, hauling Zam up by his cape.

Leo silently agreed, but he wasn’t ever going to let Mapicc know he actually agreed with him on something.

Notes:

Guys look up lenticular printing on Wikipedia, it’s fascinating. And it might answer any questions you have about Spep’s painting. These types of art usually are on cards, for example the chocolate frog cards. The lenticular printed cards are also called ‘winking’ cards. Very fascinating. I love them!
I can absolutely talk more about the art in this, if ppl are interested. It might be a bit before I can, though.
Lenticular art is actually a thing! It can be super amazing, I was at a museum where there was some pieces like that. It was so fascinating! They were also incredibly disturbing, but that’s not because of the lenticular printing. I think a person turning into a fish on the dinner table, people lying in the middle of packaged meat, and faces coming out of where people shouldn’t have faces would be disturbing no matter the media.
It’s actually so cool. I’ve seen other effects similar to the effects from lenticular printing, it’s always incredible to see because the person who made it not only had to make one incredible art piece, but two! And then combine them so they change from one to the other! It’s super impressive.
Spoke power reveal… what’s gonna happen next???
Randomprism was actually really close to guessing Spoke’s power, it’s just the opposite.

Chapter 9: Minute

Chapter by ParaDexTwo (reconnectng)

Summary:

Minute needs to take better care of himself.

Notes:

Antwon posting this all from my phone because…. I am on yet another trip!

Minute leaned against the wall, breathing hard. His head hurt, and his back protested against the wall, but at least he was at the museum again. He started walking too quickly and his headache increased rapidly, making him stop and hold his head briefly. He picked up his backpack again, ignoring his aching shoulders when he pulled it back on, and made his way through the gallery to the white guy again.

He sank to his knees, studying the painting closely. The white guy looked happier than before, his confidence apparently restored. Minute’s head pounded, and he had to close his eyes, grimacing. That’s what happened when you were thrown against a wall, your head hurt. A lot.

Minute had had enough experience to know that he probably had a concussion, but he’d told Jumper he’d meet her here today, and he wasn’t going to randomly disappear on her. There was probably a more logical decision, but Minute’s brain wasn’t working enough to it.

He stared at the white guy, pulling his backpack around so he could hold it and rest his head on it. The bright lights overhead stabbed his eyeballs.

“You don’t look too good,” Jumper’s words took far too long for Minute to register.

“You don’t look too good either,” Minute muttered, his tongue still feeling slightly weird in his mouth. He must have bitten it when he’d hit the wall.

It was true, though. Jumper’s face was paler, and her smile was slightly forced. “Not as bad as you.”

Minute didn’t really have anything intelligent to say, so he dropped his face to his backpack again, curving his spine awkwardly and wincing from the pain. Jumper dropped down beside him, dropping her face into her hands.

Minute forced himself to open his eyes again, and opened his backpack, trying to find the bottle of Advil he kept there. He found it quickly, and was about to reach for some when he paused.

“Wait, Jumper. Did I already have some earlier?”

Jumper briefly raised her head to look at him before dropping it again. “Dude, I don't know. You should be keeping track of that, not me. I wasn’t there earlier, your guess is as good as mine.”

Minute sighed. He might have, but his mind was too fuzzy to keep events in order. “Whatever. My head hurts.”

“I can tell,” Jumper muttered, “You’re really slow.”

Minute almost protested, but he decided to save his breath for when he actually needed to say something important. He took a pill and passed the bottle to Jumper. “Need some?”

Jumper looked at him skeptically. “You just have a bottle of Advil in your backpack? How do I know it’s not, like, some type of drug?”

“It is a drug,” Minute said, “Advil is a drug. It’s a painkiller, what do you mean? All painkillers are drugs, right?”

“Okay but you have a whole bottle?”

Minute sighed. “You don’t have to take it, but if it was something dangerous I wouldn't be taking it too.”

Jumper thought for a moment, and then took it. “Fine, but only cuz it really hurts right now.”

“What is?” Minute asked, only half focused on the conversation. He gulped down the medicine and stared at the floor, mapping out the tiles.

“My period,” Jumper sighed, “This fucking sucks.”

“Oh yeah,” Minute said, distracted by the shiny tiles. “You should be home with a heating pad right now. Why are you here, that’s stupid. Cramps can be super painful.”

Jumper tilted her head at him. “Why are you here? I’m pretty sure you’ve hit your head or something.”

“Nah, just got thrown into a wall,” Minute said, his brain not really present to monitor his words. “I’m fine. Aren’t the tiles cool? I’ve never really noticed them before, but it’s like they're swimming around. It’s really neat.”

Jumper grabbed his hand, pulling on it gently. “You need to go home, or at least get an ice pack. I think you might have a concussion.”

“Definitely,” Minute agreed, “And I've probably taken way more Advil than I should, but hey, the tiles are cool!”

Jumper eyes him with concern. “Okaay…. Well, let’s go get you some fresh air.”

Minute stumbled after Jumper as she led him through the gallery. The lights were brutal, making his head throb painfully. He grimaced, and promptly sat down, trying to get rid of the ringing in his ears. Jumper was looking really concerned now, which didn’t really make any sense to Minute.

She coaxed him back to his feet, ignoring Minute’s grumbling about leaving the tiles behind. When they were moving, the world swam in front of him, making him nauseous.

A prickly feeling, like he was being watched, shivered through Minute's body. He whipped his head around, catching a flash of blue out of the corner of his eyes. His head pounded even harder, and he looked away again, clutching his head as Jumper led him out.

He didn’t realize they were outside until Jumper guided him to a bench and told him to sit down.

Jumper handed him back his backpack, which she must have been carrying for him. Minute pressed his face against it, trying to get his head to stop hurting. Jumper lightly placed a hand on his back to steady him, and Minute hissed with pain.

“Sorry,” Jumper said, “You stay here, okay? I’m gonna go get something for you.”

Minute nodded, and his head nearly split in half. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping the headache would miraculously go away. Now that he wasn’t moving anymore, he tried to put his thoughts in order. It was hard, everything felt like it was slippery. Like fish.

Minute had gone fishing once, with his dad. It had rained and his dad had forgotten the weights, and then the pliers as well, and then they were both soaked through with absolutely no fish caught. He’d been freezing.

Something cold brushed his hand, and he groaned. “Nooo, please don’t make me go fishing again.”

“What?” Jumper sounded baffled, “Minute, it’s just some ice.”

Minute blinked his eyes open, and closed them again quickly. “Nope. No.”

“You don’t have to open your eyes, just take the ice.”

Minute took it. “Why did you find me ice? Is there an icemaker here? Do you have a snow-cone machine? Can we get some ice cream?”

“It’s for your head, or, I don’t know, do whatever you want with it, I guess.”

Minute nodded, and struggled to find the opening to the bag with his eyes closed. “Um. I wanna eat it, I'm hungry.”

Jumper helped him open the bag, and Minute took one of the ice cubes and put it in his mouth. It felt really nice, and was pretty distracting from his head being hit by a hammer. Minute pressed the rest of the bag to his forehead, relishing the cold.

“Don’t you want to put it on the back of your head? Weren’t you thrown against a wall or something?” Jumper tried to move the ice, and Minute tightened his grip, not wanting to lose the perfect coolness. “Okay, keeping it there is fine too.”

Minute sighed, and rolled the ice cube around in his mouth. Jumper sat next to him, watching him carefully. Minute let the ice melt, The pounding in his head slowly lessening. His thoughts were slowly fitting back into place, and he realized belatedly that he must have taken an Advil before the museum, because there was no way it had worked that quickly.

“Thanks,” Minute muttered, “You don’t have to stay, you should go home and take care of yourself.”

Jumper shrugged. “I’ve dealt with this before, I’m fine.”

“I’ve dealt with this before,” Minute said. “I’ll be fine,”

Jumper gave him a look. “Sure, like you weren’t rambling about tiles and fishing earlier.”

Minute moved the ice to the back of his head, grimacing.

“By the way, um, how did you get thrown into a wall?” Jumper asked.

“I plead the fifth,” Minute mumbled.

He wouldn’t have gotten beat up at all if it wasn’t for Wemmbu. But he wasn’t surprised that Wemmbu had sold him out, he always did. He just didn’t want to talk about it; his head still felt a little jumbled.

“Okay,” Jumper said, “How’s your head now?”

“Better.” Minute moved the ice to his back, relieved she hadn’t pressed for more information. “Thanks for the ice. How’d you get it?”

Jumper pointed at the food truck, about a block down the street. “They had some, and I traded the candy bar I brought for it.”

“I’m surprised they agreed to make that trade,” Minute said.

“I think they don’t pay their employees enough, she seemed pretty desperate for some sugar,” Jumper said, grinning.

Minute smiled back. “They should pay her in candy bars.”

“That would be funny,” Jumper agreed, “But you should really go home and relax.”

“Oh,” Minute said.

He didn’t want to leave, talking with Jumper was much funner than lying on his bed and doing nothing. But Jumper was right, he needed to get some rest. He’d been thrown against walls enough times to know by now that the longer he wore his binder for after that, the worse the bruises would be the next day.

Jumper told him to sleep in tomorrow, and Minute told her to get a heating pad. Or he thought he did, but she didn’t give any sign of hearing him, so he might have just said it in his head. It was hard to tell when he had a concussion.

Jumper said something that he didn't hear, so he just agreed and she then walked off. He belatedly realized that she’d probably said goodbye, and he’d missed it. Whatever, it was too late now, he couldn’t even see her anymore.

He slowly made his way back to his house, taking his time. Moving quickly didn’t seem to be working. He climbed up the stairs to his room, avoiding the kitchen and living room so he didn’t have to see his parents.

His parents were relatively nice, but they didn’t know he got beat up. He had several reasons, but the main two were that he didn’t want his parents to complain to the school and accidentally misgender him, and if they did complain to the school, Jake would know he’d snitched and probably beat him up worse. And even if he didn’t figure out it was Minute, Wemmbu would, and he’d definitely betray him.

He curled up on his bed, closing his eyes. He was woken up by his mom shouting up to him that it was time for dinner. He didn’t respond, not wanting to get out of his bed. His back aches, his head aches, and he really just wanted to sleep.

It was actually good he’d woken up, because he’d forgotten to take off his binder before he’d napped. He forced himself to get up and wrestled his binder off of himself before collapsing back into his bed.

The next time he woke up, it was midnight. Well, technically past midnight, about one in the morning. He yawned and tried to go back to sleep, but his back was aching even worse now, although his headache had receded.

He resigned himself to the fact that he’d messed up his sleep schedule and grabbed his phone to occupy himself, as he didn’t really have anything to do.

Minute: you awake?

It was unlikely that she’d respond for at least another hour, so he switched to YouTube, mindlessly watching a video. He got a response after a few minutes, to his surprise.

Jumper: yea

Jumper: period not letting me sleep

Jumper: hows your back?

Minute: hurts but I’ll live

Jumper: oh good!

Minute: I guess wegota come up with a new plan

Jumper: yep

Minute: we shuld wait a few days before trying to sneak into the museum again

Jumper: yes derfunitly give your back and head time too heal

Minute: at least we know for shure that they clean the bath rooms on saturday

Jumper: yes! I will never forget the look on that guys face when we told him we were his hallucinations!!!

Minute: it was pretty funny. I don’t think he’ll recover mentalky from that. Weve caused irreparable mental damage to a janitor! I’ve never been so proud of myself.

Jumper: I cant tell if your joking or not

Minute: me neither. Im too tired for this.

Minute: didja get a heating pad n stuff? It really helps

Jumper: yeah! That was a good idea

Jumper: btw, how do u know so much about periods??

Minute paused for a second, considering what to say.

Minute: I

Minute: have a sister. so.

Jumper: oh okay! Anyway a few days from now should work for me

Minute let out the breath he was holding, relieved she’d believed him.

Minute: okay.

Minute: wanna hang out tomarroe? I know a park

Jumper: okay! I don’t have anything else to do tomorrow anyway, plus you’re fun!

Minute: i am?

Minute quickly deleted that message, replacing it with another.

Minute: there’s someone I want u to meet. If she’s there anyway

Jumper: ok who is it? A friend?

Minute: a cat

Jumper: I LOVE CATS!!

Minute: oh okay ig

He hadn’t expected her to be so enthusiastic about just a cat, usually he was the one who got super excited about cats.

Jumper: I have a cat. I have 2! Theyre fluffy and cute and I play with them!!

Well, that would explain Jumper being a cat lover.

They set plans for the next- no, that afternoon, it was one AM. They decided to meet at the museum like always, and then Minute would show Jumper the cat.

Notes:

This chapter was really hard to write. I wrote it on paper first, on my earlier trip. I didn’t like it and I didn’t know why, so I let it marinate for a few days and later fixed it on a five hour plane flight.

Actually, for about an hour during the flight, I couldn’t open the doc. My documents app would just crash and close when I tried, but I could open others very weird, but it eventually started working again.

Any ideas for the cat name?

Chapter 10: Minute

Chapter by ParaDexTwo (reconnectng)

Summary:

Minute shows Jumper a cat. and realizes that stalking paintings got him a stalker.

Notes:

I wrote this like a month ago or something. I don't really remember it anymore tbh. my memory is shit. yes I'm working on this again! but it'll be a bit slow while I figure out how to balance irl things.

so I just read back the chapter and. it's okay. I guess. not my favorite.

The white guy was there all like always, except this time he looked deeply concerned rather than angry. Whether he was genuinely worried about Minute being thrown at a wall or he was concerned about another thing, Minute didn’t care because he and Jumper were leaving.

Jumper waved at him, bouncing up and down in her now-familiar pink sweater. Minute waved back, managing a small smile. His back was hurting, but at least he could talk with Jumper.

“Hey. How’re you feeling?” he asked as Jumper sat down next to him.

Jumper beamed at him. “Much better! You?”

Minute shrugged as much as he could with the pain in his shoulders. “M’okay. Let’s go see the cat.”

“Yes!” Jumper cheered quietly, not wanting to upset the others around them and get kicked out of the museum.

Minute grinned back; Jumper’s enthusiasm was infectious. As they got up to leave, heading for the door, he glanced behind himself, more out of habit than paranoia. He saw a flash of blue out of the corner of his eye again, someone wearing blue quickly retreating behind a corner.

Jumper tugged on his arm, before quickly letting go of him, somehow remembering and being mindful of his dislike of touch, Minute realized idly, unlike Wemmbu. “Minute, you coming?”

“Yeah…” Minute mumbled, eyes narrowed as he scanned the corridor. Seeing nothing suspicious, he turned back to Jumper. “Yeah, I’m coming.”

He’d brought a can of tuna, so luring her out of the bush would be no problem if she was there. He led Jumper through the park, walking through the grass to the bushes underneath the tall oak tree.

“Is this where your cat is?” Jumper said eagerly, sitting cross-legged next to Minute, who just tucked his knees to his chest instead. Tucking his knees to his chest made him look bigger and like he had longer legs and was therefore taller, plus it had the added benefit of hiding his chest even more.

“She’s not mine, I just feed her occasionally.” Very occasionally, he hadn’t tried to find her in a while.

After Wemmbu had joked about throwing a rock at her so she wouldn’t follow Minute, he decided she’d be safer if he wasn’t involved. Wemmbu’s jokes often turned out to be not really jokes, and Minute hadn’t wanted to risk it. But now he had an excuse to avoid Wemmbu after school, and he hoped Jumper wouldn’t threaten her, so maybe he could start to feed her again.

He waited quietly, knowing that there was a significant possibility she wasn’t even there. Jumper eagerly watched the bush. He occupied himself with opening the can of tuna and dumping it into a bowl, putting the empty can in a plastic bag, mindful of the sharp edges.

Bright yellow eyes appeared, and a black cat slinked out of the bushes. Minute grinned, and pushed the bowl of tuna to her. “Here you go.”

Jumper was vibrating with excitement. “She’s so cute! She looks so fluffy, oh my gosh, what’s her name?”

“This is Akat,” Minute said proudly.

“Yeah, I can see that, but what’s her name?”

“No, Akat is her name. A-K-A-T, Akat.”

“How long were you waiting to make that joke?” Jumper asked, laughing.

“It wasn’t meant to be, I just didn’t have a name, so I called her that instead,” Minute explained. He wished he’d meant it as a joke, that would’ve been so much cooler than just not having a name.

Akat sniffed the tuna, and decided it was safe to eat. Minute smiled at her. “I thought she might have moved on. I’m glad she’s still here.”

Jumper carefully watched Akat eat the food. “You need to take better care of your cat, she needs to be brushed.”

“I never brush her, I just feed her. I don’t know if she’d even let me,” he admitted, “And I haven’t even been feeding for the last couple of weeks, maybe a month even. If she ever trusted me enough to let me brush her, I don’t think she would now.”

“Why’d you stop?” Jumper asked.

Minute shrugged. “I thought it’d be safer for her. I wish I hadn’t, though.”

They sat in silence as Akat finished her food. She flicked her whiskers, and curled up in Minute’s lap. Minute lightly rested a hand on her back, and she started to purr.

Jumper leaned forward. “Can I pet her?”

Minute shrugged. “You can try, but she’s not a huge fan of physical affection.”

Jumper tried to pet her, but her claws slid out, digging into Minute’s pants and warning Jumper away. “I think I’ll just leave her alone.”

Minute nodded. “I'm surprised that she’s letting me.”

They spent a few minutes together, with Minute petting Akat while Jumper watched, clearly enamored.

“Do you want to feed her next time?” Minute offered.

He tilted his head, surprised he’d offered to basically share Akat with her. He’d always viewed Akat as his, only he took care of her. She was sort of his secret, in a way, even though he didn’t really have anyone to keep it from, nobody would care if he fed a stray.

“Um, if you feed her and spend time with her, she’ll trust you more. Maybe after like, a month or something she’ll let you pet her.” Why was he even still talking? He needed to shut up, his mouth wasn’t connected to his brain correctly.

Jumper’s whole face lit up. Oh, that was why Minute had offered. Because now Jumper was so happy, she was practically glowing. And now she’d probably like him more.

He still wasn’t sure if she was right about him being fun. Admittedly, he’d spent the last several years pushing away anyone who tried to be his friend, so maybe he just wasn’t used to people enjoying his company.

“Yes! Please!” Jumper exclaimed, not bothering to keep her voice low since they weren’t in the museum anymore.

Minute listened in a mix of awe and amusement as Jumper kept talking. “What kind of food does she like? How often? D’you think she’d let me brush her? She really needs to be brushed, her fur has so many twigs in it. I can bring a brush! I have one, but I don’t know if it’ll work with her fur type. Does she have a double coat? Or is her fur long because it hasn’t been brushed?”

“Why are you so excited?” Minute asked, “She’s just a cat. I mean, she’s awesome, but nobody else I know gets this excited about brushing a cat.”

Jumper grinned. “I told you, I love cats!”

“That’s fair,” Minute admitted.

Akat suddenly streaked off into the bushes, apparently done humoring his touching. Minute watched her run off, thinking. He’d seen a streak of blue in the museum before they left, and now that he was thinking about it, he’d seen a streak of blue yesterday as well.

“I think we’re being watched,” Minute said suddenly.

“What? Why?”

“I saw someone running away when you were pulling me out of the museum.”

“Oh,” Jumper frowned, thinking. “Um. You were really out of it then, I think it was probably your mind just messing with you.”

Minute nodded. “I’d say the same, but I also saw the same person today.”

“Really?” Jumper still sounded skeptical. “What did this person look like?”

Minute shrugged. “All I caught was a flash of blue. I don’t even know if it was their hair or a hat or their clothes.”

Jumper smiled gently at him. “I think your head is still recovering; it’s only been a day. Actually, less than a day even.”

Minute hunched his shoulders, his face burning. “Yeah. Okay. Sorry.”

Jumper moved to put a hand on his shoulder, but redirected it to rest next to him in the grass. “No, you’re right to be cautious. We’re literally breaking the law. We can go back and check, if you’d like.”

Minute quickly shook his head. “Nah. It’s fine.” The last thing he wanted was Jumper thinking he was making stuff up and wasting her time. “You’re right, it was just my head.”

“No, we should go check!” Jumper said, getting to her feet. “Better safe than sorry, right?”

Minute shook his head harder. “Really, it’s not important.” This was just getting more and more uncomfortable, he just wanted to drop it and move on.

Jumper started to walk away. “Let’s go, I wanted to check on the painting of the person having a picnic anyway.”

Minute followed her, drawing in deep breaths to calm himself. He shoved his hands in his pockets to stop them from shaking. He used to not get this nervous over just a simple conversation. Maybe that was a side effect of trying to kill any and all friendships. Whatever, it didn’t matter right now. He started jogging, trying to keep up with Jumper.

 

He hadn’t expected to return to the museum after he left to go see Akat, so now he had to pay the entry fee again, which was annoying. Jumper had already reached the purple guy’s painting by the time he’d gotten it all sorted out.

He sat down next to her. She was looking resolutely at the painting. “We’ll wait a bit, and then turn around super quickly.”

“I don’t know if that’ll work, even if there was someone watching us, which there definitely isn’t,” Minute said matter-of-factly.

Jumper shrugged. “Well, it’s worth a try.”

“It really isn’t,” Minute muttered.

“You shouldn’t second guess yourself,” Jumper said cheerfully, “And it’s not like we have anything better to do, so why not?”

“I’m definitely wrong,” Minute said flatly, “But you wanna, go ahead, I guess.”

Jumper nodded, studying the drawing carefully. Minute also turned his focus on the drawing. The purple person looked stressed, judging by his creased eyebrows and his white-knuckled grip on the plate he was holding.

Minute leaned over to Jumper. “Hey, he looks really stressed, like the white guy. Isn’t that weird?”

“Sure, yeah,” Jumper clearly wasn’t paying much attention, clearly trying to see to the side of her without turning her head, rolling her eyes to the right as much as possible. Minute shrugged, and went back to looking at the painting, humming quietly to himself.

Time passed. Minute checked his watch more and more frequently as the minutes wore on. He started to get more and more restless, tapping his fingers on the ground to occupy himself.

He turned to Jumper. “Okay, if this isn’t long enough for you, then-“

Jumper whirled around, making Minute nearly jump out of his skin. She gasped, and grabbed Minute’s hand, pulling him out of the hallway they were in.

“Minute!” She hissed in his ear.

Minute curled away from her. “Hi, yes, I exist, please give me some space.”

“Sorry,” Jumper backed up, bouncing from foot to foot with excitement. “Minute, you were right!”

“What?”

“I saw what you saw!” Jumper whispered emphatically, “I saw the blue flash! It was really fast, so I couldn’t tell much, but they definitely have blue hair and they're definitely following us.”

“Okay,” Minute said, “Wow. I didn’t expect that. I was right?”

Jumper nodded. “See? Don’t doubt yourself so much.”

“Huh,” Minute muttered.

Jumper dragged him outside again, sitting down against a tree and pulling Minute down to join her. “This is bad. We need to figure out who and why we’re being watched.”

“I can tell you why,” Minute said, “We’re two teenagers in an art museum where nearly everyone else is a senior. And we don't move around, we just stare at the art like it’s an interesting puzzle.”

“We do get weird looks from the others,” Jumper agreed, “but none of them tried to run away and not get spotted. They don’t want us to know they're watching us, I don’t think it’s just simple curiosity.”

Minute shrugged. “It’s whatever, like we’re just looking at paintings, they can’t do anything to us, so why worry about it?”

“Because we were talking about breaking into the museum?” Jumper waved her hands around, her eyes wide. “Minute, if that person ever got close enough to hear us, then we’d be in big trouble!”

“Oh,” Minute felt a sinking feeling, like lead was pooling in his gut. “Oh. That’s really not good.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, what’re we gonna do about it?”

Jumper shrugged. “I dunno, you?”

“…Stop breaking into the museum?” Minute half-heartedly suggested. “End our investigation?”

Jumper sighed, slumping forward. “I really don’t wanna do that, it’s been so fun. And I like hanging out with you.”

Minute briefly clamped his mouth shut to not let a disbelieving sound out. “I don’t want to stop either, but I also don’t wanna go to jail.” And he would really, really miss Jumper. Even if they hung out together out of the museum, he’d still miss getting to do mildly illegal things together.

Plus, then he’d have no excuse to avoid Wemmbu (and therefore Jake) after class. That would really suck.

“What if we got rid of this person?” Minute suggested, “If they're following us, then we could set a trap. Lure them somewhere and confront them. And figure out what they know.”

Jumper looked up, brightening. “Yeah! Wait, what if it’s like, the museum curator or something? If it’s an adult, we’d get into huge trouble.”

“Oh. Right.”

They sat in silence together. Minute fiddled with the grass, tugging the roots out of the ground.

“Wait,” Jumper said suddenly.

Minute looked up. “What?”

“If the museum curator knew we’d snuck into the museum, would they sneak around following us or just get us arrested right away?”

Minute squinted at her. “Probably just get us arrested, I don’t see why they’d wait.”

“Exactly!” Jumper was getting more and more excited, “And if they didn’t know, and just thought we were fishy, they’d just kick us out. There’s no reason to keep around a couple of suspicious looking teenagers.”

“So, what? Do you think it’s another kid?”

“I think it’s more likely than an adult,” Jumper offered, “An adult would just go up to us and tell us we need to leave or that we’re being too loud. They wouldn’t spy on us, because they don’t have to, it’s not like we could do anything against them.”

Minute grinned. “So we can do the luring and trapping them thing!”

Jumper beamed back. “It’s worth a try, right? What’s the worst that could go wrong?”

Notes:

Minute opened his mouth to answer, and Jumper gave him a stern look. “Don’t answer that.”

side quest unlocked!

yep Minute has a hard time talking to people. now, who do you think is that person that's stalking them??
I'm already working on the next chapter, but still. might be like a week or something.

Chapter 11: Leo

Chapter by ParaDexTwo (reconnectng)

Summary:

Leo learns about 'the blue guy'

Notes:

guys I'm so sorry I made this chapter and then immediately started to write the next one. and forgot to post this one, so I have a chapter prewritten that I'll post at some point.

Clown didn’t show up the next day. Leo wasn’t worried, only Minute would notice he was gone, and Minute already knew the paintings moved. Plus, they were forming a plan. They knew what Spoke’s power was, now they just had to convince him to use it.

His confidence was only boosted when Minute arrived looking absolutely frazzled. He kept blinking, and his eyes were unfocused. Leo guessed he’d hit his head or something. Just another thing that was going his way!

He didn’t seem to notice Clown was missing. He was clearly very out of it, taking far longer than usual to respond when Jumper spoke to him. And then he started mumbling about the tiles, and Leo had to restrain his laughter. Yeah, it was mean to laugh at how confused Minute was, but he’d also caused Leo a fair deal of trouble, so Leo didn’t feel bad.

The rest of the day was boring. Or it was supposed to be. The two annoying teenagers left and didn’t come back, and Leo managed to get some sleep in as well. Utterly, perfectly boring, just how Leo wanted it.

Until he woke up late in the day, and Clown still hadn’t returned. Leo didn’t go back to sleep after realizing that, he just watched the curtains out of the corner of his eye, waiting for Clown.

Clown had never spent so long at Branzy’s painting, and now Leo was getting worried. He fiddled with his fingers, getting more and more nervous. If Clown was taking this long, something was going on. Something bad, probably. Was it possible that Minute and Jumper had done something to him?

Leo shoved that thought aside. It was ridiculous, there was no way they could have done anything to him.

As soon as the museum closed, Leo jumped up and nearly ran through Terry’s painting, only giving him a short wave before he crossed into Spoke and Planet’s.

Spoke groaned when he saw him. “Not again. I’ve already given you my answer.”

Leo ignored him, going through several more paintings until he reached the one he was looking for.

Leo wasn’t a fan of messy paintings, and this one was literally the definition of messy, with globs of low-quality paint that only preschoolers should use. He frowned at the overly saturated brown of the table. No table actually looked like that.

The people in the painting looked similarly over exaggerated, Cube with bright colors of green, blue, and red, Jaron in an overly large detective’s hat, and Mid with a bright purple jacket. He grimaced with trepidation. He hadn’t talked much with Cube or Mid lately, although they once shared a painting. They’d sort of grown apart, and now Leo only really saw them when he was collecting Clown.

“Hi,” Leo said, a little awkwardly, “Um. Where’s Clown and Branzy? Sorry, it’s important.”

Mid smiled at him. “Hey, Leo. It’s been a bit.”

“Yeah,” Leo glanced around the painting, “Where the fuck is Clown?”

“You could at least look at me,” Mid said, a little disgruntled.

“Sorry,” Leo said, “I really need to find Clown.”

“What a surprise,” Jaron deadpanned, “It's not like you’re only ever here to find him!”

“Sorry,” Leo repeated, “There’s been some weird stuff going on recently.”

“Really,” Jaron said, “Well, it’s not like we’d know anything about weird stuff going on. We’re just kids. In the corner.”

“I gathered that from the fact that your painting was fingerpainted with acrylic,” Leo replied, a bit meaner than he meant to.“Wait, what? What weird stuff’s been going on for you guys?”

Cube refused to look at him. “Well, I don't think you’d be interested since you have to find Clown, right?”

Leo sighed. “Come on, guys. Don’t be like this.”

“What’s that? I couldn’t hear you over your ego,” Jaron said coolly.

Mid sighed. “Basically, Clown and Branzy left once the blue guy left.”

“Blue guy?” Leo echoed, “Who the fuck is that?”

Jaron gave him a look. “Well, I don’t think it matters, right? You’re a very busy guy, after all.”

Leo gritted his teeth. Yeah, maybe pretty much ignoring his old friends was a bad idea. He’d admitted before that he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed; important things slipped his mind easily, and time seemed like a blur, but he hadn’t thought it had been that long. Had it?

Maybe it had, but regardless, Leo could apologize later. He needed to find Clown and Branzy, he could figure out the story from them instead.

“Which way did they go?”

Cube’s face was inscrutable. “That way.” He pointed to the opposite end of the painting.

“Thanks,” Leo said, walking quickly around the table. He could feel the other’s eyes on him, disappointment wafting through the room. He tightened his tie, feeling like a deer in headlights. “Well. Um. I’ll see you guys around.”

“Sure thing,” Jaron said, definitely sarcastic, but Leo ignored him.

He wandered through several more artworks, asking the people in them which way Clown and Branzy had gone. Most of them pointed him in the right direction, except for a few that Leo maybe sort of kind of stabbed in the most recent fight, but Leo figured out which way they’d gone pretty quickly.

He found them in Vortex’s art piece, hunched over and whispering together, Vortex trying to lean in to eavesdrop on their conversation. Branzy’s eyes went wide when he noticed Leo, laughing nervously and backing away.

“Hey- hey, Leo,” Branzy gave him a strained smile. “I haven’t seen you lately. How’re things?”

“Good,” Leo replied. He still didn’t know why Branzy was so nervous around him, he’d been nothing but friendly, or at the very least polite. He’d eventually decided it was probably just in Branzy’s nature to be nervous. “So the other kids in the corner mentioned a blue guy?”

Clown nodded. “Leo. We need to talk.” He was speaking surprisingly brusquely.

“Okay,” Leo said slowly, “Hit me.”

A smack sent him sprawling onto the concrete sidewalk. He flung out a hand to break his fall, and let out an unmanly shriek as his hand hit the ground, sharp pain exploding on his side. Clown laughed openly at him.

Leo scrambled to his feet, his hand and side stinging badly. “What the fuck?!”

Vortex shrugged, somehow managing to keep a straight face. “You said to hit you.”

Leo spluttered, stomping his foot angrily. “I- you-“

Branzy was only barely holding in his giggles. Leo shook his head in disgust, wincing a little. “Whatever. Clown, who’s this blue guy?”

“Hold on, I have to laugh a bit more,” Clown said calmly, before dissolving into snickers again. Leo waited impatiently for him to shut up.

“There’s been somebody watching us,” Branzy started.

Leo sighed. “Great. A third person. Let me guess, he’s been watching you for hours on end and knows you can move. And now he’s moving around the museum a lot because he’s with the others who’ve been watching art.”

Branzy turned to Clown, surprised. “Dang. I don’t think he even needs a recap.”

Clown had finished laughing. “You’re close. There are a few things you need to know. First, this blue guy is spying on Minute and Jumper, not joining forces with them. But more importantly, he has photos.”

“What?” Leo’s face blanched.

“He has photos showing that they moved.”

“WHAT?!” Leo shrieked, “He has photos?!”

Branzy laughed nervously. “Yep, unfortunately. He’s a photographer, after all.”

“But- but- pictures aren’t allowed in the museum! He can’t!” Leo spluttered.

Clown spoke grimly. “He’s apparently good at hiding it as well. He’s very sneaky. Adults seem to trust him.”

Leo sat down abruptly. His side was still stinging, but considerably less now. He stared at the chronic, trying to process the new information. He groaned, dropping his head in his hands and pulling his hair. Everything was literally crashing down around his ears. First Minute, then Jumper, and now this blue guy.

They weren’t going to live long at this rate. The blue guy could go to the curator at literally any moment and ruin their lives. They were so fucking screwed. He had to convince Spoke, otherwise they were goners.

“Hey, are you crying?” Vortex asked, crouching down to look at Leo’s eyes. Leo angrily punched his shoulder, sending him toppling backward onto the sidewalk.

“That’s for fucking hitting me,” Leo snapped.

“Clown!” Vortex cried, “Control your dog!”

Clown laughed quietly. “Sic ‘em, Leo!”

Leo stalked off angrily, his mind buzzing and his stomach clenched with fear. They weren’t even taking this seriously! He ignored anyone who tried to talk to him as he walked back to his painting. Everything was a mess.

Why hadn’t the blue guy just turned in the photos immediately? Why had he waited to do that in favor of watching Minute and Jumper? Leo was baffled.

And not just baffled, he was scared. More scared than he’d been when Minute broke into the museum. Minute didn’t have undeniable proof like the blue guy did. Minute and Jumper could do some damage, but the blue guy could get then destroyed with just a few words and some pictures.

Barely anyone noticed that they moved, and if they did, they didn’t spend days of their life trying to prove it. They weren’t safe anymore, not even remotely. Convincing Spoke to use his power was now paramount. And they didn’t have long.

 

Clown returned to their painting after about ten minutes, walking up behind him and placing a hand on his shoulder. Leo glared straight ahead, ignoring him.

“You’re mad because you think we aren’t taking this seriously,” Clown stated.

Leo didn’t respond, but Clown continued. “We are. We’ve been following him from painting to artwork, trying to figure out what he was doing.”

“You’re not supposed to go into different art during the day,” Leo said stiffly.

“We hid ourselves,” Clown said shortly, “And if we didn’t, we wouldn’t know that he was stalking Minute and Jumper.”

“Who cares?” Leo snapped, “It doesn’t matter whether he’s stalking the fucking president, we’re still screwed!”

“Maybe we could use him to distract Minute and Jumper,” Clown said quietly, “Turn them against each other and let them stalk each other. Turn their focus away from us.”

Leo gave him a skeptical look. “You think that’ll work? How would we even do that? The more we move the more interested they are.”

Clown sounded a bit too smug for his own good. “We don’t. They're already doing it for us, all we have to do is watch and wait. Earlier today, the blue guy was watching Minute and Jumper behind a corner, but you might not have seen, I don’t think you’re observant enough-“

“Hey!” Leo complained.

“-But Minute is, I’m half sure he at least got a glimpse,” Clown said, “It might not be all over yet, Leo. There’s still a chance that we could convince Spoke to use his power before they realize that they're trying to do the same thing and start working together.”

Leo felt a small fire of hope rekindle in his chest. “Maybe. Maybe we could.”

Clown patted his back. “That’s the spirit! But if we don’t manage to convince him before they start working together, we’re dead meat.”

 

Leo went around and notified all the others who were involved. Vitalasy looked horrified at the news, but Ash just sighed and looked unsurprised. Leo guessed that he was pretty much always ready for death, as he wasn’t even supposed to be here. Mapicc marched around growling and waving his sword around while Zam sat down on a corpse and covered his face. Leo got out of there quickly.

Ro just pulled his hoodie over his face and curled up into a ball, groaning. Leo whispered an apology and backed away quietly to let him process the new threat. Spep simply burst into tears, and Leo spent several awkward minutes trying to comfort him. Spep took the news worst of all, somehow thinking it was his fault for not telling everyone about Spoke’s power earlier so that they solved this before the blue guy got the pictures.

Leo didn’t bother going to Spoke and trying to convince him, he was exhausted from trying to make Spep calm down and all the other people, and he knew Spoke wouldn’t budge. It was practically hopeless at this point, he needed a plan to distract the annoying kids until they came up with a plan to trick Spoke into using his power.

Vitalasy was lounging on his throne, a damselfly cupped in his hands.

“Hey,” Leo said tiredly, “What is it?”

Vitalasy gave him a small smile. “Hey. I know things just got a whole lot worse. How are you?”

Leo sighed, rubbing his face. “Tired. Spep thinks it’s his fault.”

Vitalasy was taken aback. “What? Why?”

Leo waved his hand. “Because he didn’t tell us we could painting-ify them earlier. It’s whatever. Doesn’t matter.”

“Okay,” Vitalasy still looked a little worried, but he dropped it. “We need a plan to get them to spy on each other instead of us, right?”

Leo nodded slowly. “Well… yeah,”

“So then what if we just… reacted?”

Leo stared at him. “Huh?”

“We want them to focus on each other, right?”

Leo nodded.

“So what if we just reacted when we saw him? Just enough so that Minute and Jumper would notice, but no one else? That would get their attention on the blue guy.”

Leo pulled Vitalasy into a hug. “Yes! They're nosy enough that it could work! Thank you!”

Vitalasy hugged him back tightly. “We have to do everything. Literally everything and anything to slow them down or stop them.”

 

Leo did try Vitalasy’s plan the next day, when he saw someone in a blue hoodie peeking around the corner, but Minute didn’t seem to understand his looks. He just looked bemused, and then left as soon as Jumper arrived. Leo sighed, stretching out his legs, and waited. The day passed uneventfully again, but Leo felt too nervous to sleep. Wherever the blue guy was now, he didn’t show himself.

He never saw Minute or Jumper again that day, but it only made him more nervous. What if they were plotting something? As much as Leo hated being watched constantly, it did have the benefit of being able to keep tabs on the two troublemakers. Now he had no idea what their plans were.

Clown stayed in the painting the whole day today, complaining under his breath about it, but he didn’t break the promise he’d given Leo earlier that morning. He never even attempted to leave. He and Leo talked a little, but mostly they had to stay quiet so nobody would hear them talk.

Near the end of the day, Clown suddenly snatched a damselfly out of the air, startling Leo.

“What was that?” Leo asked.

Clown rolled his eyes. “A damselfly, idiot.”

Leo glared at him. “No shit. I mean, why the hell is it in here?”

“It probably means Vitalasy wants to talk to us.” Clown said logically.

Leo frowned, opening his mouth to speak, and Clown quickly shushed him, smugly pointing to the people milling around that hall. Leo fumed in silence until the museum closed.

Clown left as soon as the lights turned off, not bothering to wait for Leo to catch up. They made their way through the art, and Vitalasy greeted them with a welcoming smile that grew oddly frozen when Leo tried to move the extra plate to sit down. Clown sighed and hauled Leo to his feet again, pulling him off into the grass.

“What did I do?” Leo asked.

“That’s Subz’s spot,” Clown hissed at him. “Even I know that’s really insensitive.”

“Shit,” Leo felt like an idiot. He jogged over to Vitalasy, his face burning. “Hey. Sorry about that. I’m an idiot.”

Vitalasy patted his shoulder. “It’s fine. At least you apologized.”

Leo shifted from foot to foot, standing awkwardly. “Um. You wanted to talk to us?”

Vitalasy’s face broke into a grin. “Yeah! I have great news!”

“Good, because we really fucking need some,” Clown said dryly.

“They took the bait!” Vitalasy blurted, “They know the blue guy is spying on them, and I doubt they think he’s friendly. We’re not dead yet!”

Hope bloomed in Leo’s chest, and he grinned. They could still get out of this! Now all they had to do was convince Spoke to use his power before they learned they were after the same thing and banded together against them.

Notes:

I think everyone can guess who the blue guy is by now :)

Chapter 12: Leo

Chapter by ParaDexTwo (reconnectng)

Summary:

Leo almost stops being an asshole

Notes:

ahh! I posted again! I wrote this like a few days ago and forgot to post it. I hope the pacing doesn't feel as rushed as the chapters before it, I think writing on my phone was affecting it.

Convincing Spoke to use his power was much, much easier said than done. Six of them had asked him to and he’d still said no, so Leo had decided that the best way to convince him was probably to get even more people. And he had just the perfect people to ask.

“What do you mean you won’t help us?!” Leo cried, shaking Cube violently.

He looked remarkably unfazed. “I mean, no. We won’t help you convince Spoke to use his power to get rid of those kids.”

“Why not?” Leo begged.

Mid gave him a peculiar look. “Because someone owes us an apology.”

Leo groaned. “That’s what this is about? Whosoever it is, I swear I can make them apologize to you. Who is it?”

Mid stared at him, her lips pursed. Leo looked back at her expectantly. They held eye contact for a few long seconds, Mid refusing to look away until realization dawned. Leo looked down at his feet, his face burning.

“You’re not the sharpest crayon in the box, are you?” Jaron asked.

“Shut up,” Leo muttered, crossing his arms and turning his back on them.

“It’s pretty simple,” Jaron continued, “Just apologize and we’ll help you.”

Leo glared at him. “You’d risk all of our lives for an apology?”

Mid shrugged. “We know we’re not getting one otherwise.”

Leo groaned. “You’re really pushing that hard? It’s irrelevant! Just help us!”

“I think they want an apology,” Branzy said gently.

Leo glared at him, making him flinch. “Nobody asked you! And I know that, I’m not that stupid!”

“You’re not stupid at all,” Cube agreed, “You’re just a stubborn, annoying, bad at feelings, exasper-“

“Okay, okay!” Leo cut him off, “You’re just exaggerating! Except maybe the last one, but who cares? We’re about to all get killed and you’re just worried about me apologizing? Get your priorities right!”

“Our priorities are fine!” Cube said, “You're the one who’s gonna make us die by not apologizing.”

Leo spluttered. “What- this is all my fault now? Why don’t you apologize, you could’ve come to see me literally any time! You’re gonna blame this all on me?”

Mid shrugged, unsympathetic. “Sure, why not?”

Leo let out a growl of frustration, burying his face in his hands, and stomped out of the painting. They were being ridiculous and somehow they were trying to blame it on him! Leo was stressed out of his mind, and they thought the best course of action would be to force him to apologize for not spending enough time with them? Leo didn’t care whether or not they actually deserved an apology, this was just exploitation.

And yet, when he bemoaned about this to Clown, he took their side. Like always. Clown never took his side in anything.

“I mean, they probably feel like you’ve been ignoring them for a while now. It’s like you just forgot about them as soon as you all stopped living together,” Clown said, annoyingly reasonable.

Leo groaned, collapsing on his throne. Clown sighed. “Oh, stop being overly dramatic. It’s literally just two words, and then we'll have four more people to help us. Why won’t you do it?”

“I’m not gonna give into their demands!” Leo said defensively, “They’re just trying to take advantage of me! It’s extortion!”

Clown heaved a long-suffering sigh. “So, you know you should apologize, but you don’t wanna give them the satisfaction?”

Leo scowled. “Don’t say it like that! It makes it sound really petty.”

Clown laughed at him. “Because it is really petty! You’re a very petty person in general.”

Leo covered his ears, glaring at the dark hallway. Yeah, he was a pretty petty person. But was he going to admit it to one of the most infuriating people? Hell no! Clown would just tease him about it nonstop like he did with everything else. Denial was his only comfort left.

Mapicc came over to bother him, demanding an update, and Leo did his hardest to ignore him. Clown took him aside and explained what he was grumpy about, and Mapicc spent the better part of the next thirty minutes nagging Leo about apologizing. Leo complained that the kids in the corner could’ve come to visit him at any time, they didn’t have to wait for him, and Mapicc rolled his eyes and told him to just suck it up.

Leo ground his teeth, covered his ears, and started singing symphony no. 5 in C minor, op. to drown him out. Mapicc got even more posed at him and stomped off, leaving Leo with a feeling of vindictive pleasure and symphony no. 5 in C minor, op. stuck in his head.

 

He saw Minute and Jumper the next day. They stared at him and didn’t say a word. Just stared at him. Like they were statues. Leo got more and more uncomfortable as the day progressed, shifting in his seat. They never said a word to each other, but they did exchange weird expressions. It was undoubtedly suspicious.

Leo caught the blue guy peeking around the corner, his cyan jacket standing out. A fancy camera hung from his neck, and he had medium length brown hair that had the tips dyed a bright blue. He was watching them with an inscrutable expression. Leo glared at him. This kid was the reason everything was going wrong, and Leo hated his guts already. How dare he bring a camera into the museum?! Didn’t he know those things could damage the art?

“There’s the blue guy,” Clown breathed into his ear.

Minute and Jumper seemed to notice as well. Minute nudged Jumper, and then the both got up and walked stiffly away together. The blue guy took a few steps forward, like he wanted to follow them, but then reconsidered. Leo didn’t really blame him, they were acting really suspicious, almost like they wanted to be followed. Minute hadn’t even waved at him! He usually waved at him, and now Leo was annoyed that he forgot about him.

The blue guy backed off, giving the backs of the other two a suspicious look, and walked swiftly in the other direction. Leo stared at the now empty hall, trying to decipher what the hell just happened.

“They’re trying to get him to follow them,” Clown whispered, “That means our plans are working.”

Leo nodded knowingly. “If they just wanted to talk peacefully they wouldn’t need to try to lure him somewhere.”

Clown let out a quiet, dangerous laugh. “They’ve fallen into our trap! Now all we have to do is convince Spoke to get rid of them.” He nudged Leo, who sighed. “Which means apologizing, Leo.”

“Can you stop?” Leo asked, turning around to look him in the eyes. Well, mask. “Can you actually stop? I hate it. You keep bringing it up for no reason.”

Clown paused. “Like really? You’re being serious?”

“Yes!” Leo snapped.

“Okay,” Clown said simply. And then he didn’t mention it. Leo stared straight forward and his brain mentally exploded.

Clown never shut up when he was teasing Leo before, so why the hell was he being quiet now? Whatever, Leo wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He smiled, leaned back, and enjoyed the rare silence. Clown shifted around a little, but stayed quiet, and Leo had never been so grateful.

“You’ve never told me to stop before,” Clown commented suddenly, “I didn’t know it was bothering you.”

Leo bugged his eyes out at him. “What? I’ve told you to stop before! I hate it!”

Clown shrugged. “I thought you were just playing along. I mean, you were clearly pissed, but I didn’t think you were actually really angry about it. It’s hard to tell when you’re playing or when you’re serious.”

Leo flung up his hands in exasperation, uncaring of the possibility of someone seeing him. “I was always being serious! I hate you teasing me!”

Clown didn’t respond for a few seconds, taking in the new information. Leo glared straight ahead. “Why the hell do you think I’d enjoy being teased while we’re being stalked and taken pictures of and everyone is making fun of me while I’m trying to help?!”

Clown stayed silent for another few seconds while Leo caught his breath and crossed his arms, waiting for his response. “I’m not very good at reading people’s emotions other than fear. I thought you knew this.”

Leo gritted his teeth. “Then read my face and see my fear, okay?! We’re in danger, you think I’m not scared?!”

“All I know to do with fear is make it worse,” Clown said bluntly, “I’m not good at making people feel comfortable.”

“You can at least try!” Leo snapped.

“I am!” Clown protested, “This is me trying!”

“You don’t have to read my expression, just ask me how I feel.”

Clown sighed. “Well, when’s the last time you’ve asked me how I’ve been feeling?”

Leo ran through all the times he’s spoken to Clown recently, his unease growing as he tried to think back farther and farther. His face flushed with embarrassment. “I’m not very good at this either.”

“Yeah, but I bet you’ve asked the others how they're feeling before,” Clown’s voice had some weird tone that Leo couldn’t place, somewhere between accusatory and regretful.

“It’s the mask,” Leo tried to explain, ignoring the growing knot in his stomach. “It’s really hard to tell what you’re thinking, and I guess I just don’t think about your feelings that often.”

Clown sighed. “Yeah. I’m not surprised, it’s always the mask. Nobody can tell what I'm thinking except Branzy.”

“If you’re so bad with feelings, how the hell did you pull Branzy?” Leo asked. “Also, why not take off the mask? Did your painter mess it up?”

Clown probably shrugged, but Leo couldn’t turn around to see it. “I’m still asking myself that question. And it’s a long story about the mask. Wait, actually, no it isn’t. I was painted with the mask originally, so it’s like a defining feature. I don’t think my painter even considered me having an actual face. I’d love to take it off, but I can't, like the same reason you can’t change your hair color. You could switch from a suit to pajamas, but your hair is a defining feature, so it stays the same.”

“I haven’t ever tried to change things about myself,” Leo admitted, “I mean, I’ve never even thought about changing my hair colour.”

“Yeah, that’s for a reason,” Clown explained, “You can’t. You can change some aspects of yourself when you officially move to a different painting, like how Spep got his spacesuit, but you can’t change specific things. Spep literally can’t change from being red to blue or something like that. Why haven’t you even tried to experiment and see what you can and can’t change?”

Leo shrugged helpfully. “I don’t know, that kinda stuff, seeing how far we can push our paintings… it sorta just feels too dangerous to me. Like, there’s probably a reason Parrot went missing. And Subz. I’m not looking to toe the line between what we know and what could potentially kill us.”

Clown snorted. “That’s crazy. I’ve been trying to get rid of my mask since I realized that everyone hated looking at me. Only Branzy really tries to look me in the eyes.” Leo felt something odd that he decided not to name, something that made him feel weirdly defensive.

“Your mask is very cool!” Leo protested, “Even, like, your enemies think so.”

“That’s what you think,” Clown pointed out, “After a few centuries, you get tired of it.”

Leo shrugged. “I’ll just take your word for it.”

There was a brief lull in the conversation, and Leo watched the people pass by, barely glancing at their artwork. Something was inside Leo, weighing down his stomach. He felt almost like he was physically sick. Something about what Clown had said had caused this, he was sure. Maybe the man was secretly a witch?

“I’ll try not to tease you too much, in the future,” Clown said quietly.

“Thanks,” Leo responded, frowning slightly as his stomach clenched, roiling. He was doing something wrong, he was sure of it. He only got this feeling once before, when he’d been the reason they’d lost the fight, and he’d felt terrible for the whole week.

“Um,” Leo squinted as he tried to think. Why had he felt so terrible that time? What was that feeling? “I’ll try to remember to ask how you’re feeling, I guess.”

“Thanks,” Clown sounded pretty surprised, “I really appreciate that. It means a lot, coming from you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Leo demanded, scowling. But he didn’t feel so bad now, oddly enough. The tension inside him was loosening again.

“You’re the last person I’d expect to say they're going to try and be mindful of my feelings.”

Leo spluttered. “I- that’s- you said you weren’t going to tease me anymore!”

“But I wasn’t joking,” Clown sounded confused, and Leo realized he was actually being serious. He quickly shoved that thought away, ignoring the weird feeling it gave him.

“You’re wrong!” Leo snapped, “I’m super kind and emotional and make good decisions!”

Clown let out a quiet sigh. “You were so close,” he murmured regretfully.

Leo ignored him for the rest of the day, but he did notice that the weight inside him had faded again, leaving him with only an odd residual feeling that he could turn a blind eye to.

Notes:

I was planning on waiting to post this until the next chapter of NAH was finished but it was taking too long so.
constructive criticism welcome and comment and stuff,

Chapter 13: Minute

Chapter by ParaDexTwo (reconnectng)

Summary:

Minute and Jumper try to catch their stalker.

Notes:

it's been a month since I last posted. very long. I've been very, very busy. but what're you gonna do? that's life I guess.

The first time they tried to lure their stalker out, it went horribly. Minute could tell within the first few seconds. If they wanted to be interesting enough that the stalker would follow them into a secluded area, then they needed to seem harmless and suspicious. That was easier said than done.

Both of them were too stiff. They barely even talked to each other, staring at Leo’s painting and occasionally trying to surreptitiously glance behind them. That would tip anyone off. Minute wasn’t surprised that their stalker didn’t follow them out.

But now there was an issue. Because the more they tried to get their stalker in a place where they could catch them, the more aware they would be about what they were trying to do. They really only had a few chances at doing this, and they’d already wasted one. And not to mention the possibility that that could have been their only chance, if their target was suspicious enough.

Minute got home feeling pretty annoyed after that. Not at Jumper, but at himself. He knew he could do better than that, and he was honestly disappointed by his own performance. Jumper’s acting skills weren’t great, but Minute definitely could have at least looked more natural.

He didn’t really sleep much last night, too focused on figuring out strategies. There were two things he needed to be. Actually, three, because there was no way they could keep glancing behind them to check whether or not their stalker was there, it was just too obvious. It was more fun than he’d expected, coming up with ways to trick other people.

By the time he finally let himself fall asleep, he’d come up with several ways to make himself look suspicious and harmless. And the perfect person to test his ideas out on was definitely Wemmbu. Minute wanted revenge for all those times Wemmbu had sold him out to Jake, and making him go crazy with curiosity would be the perfect way to do it.

 

His plan started even before lunch. He and Wemmbu only shared a few classes, but he was smart enough to avoid him during those. It wasn’t too weird, and working alone was fine. He couldn’t really avoid him during lunch, though. Wherever Minute ate, Wemmbu would inevitably find him and join him. Minute had gotten used to it and stopped trying to find a place that Wemmbu didn’t know about, but now he could use that to his advantage.

Minute spent all of his classes with Wemmbu sneakily glancing up at the clock. He knew Wemmbu was watching him, he similarly had few friends and therefore watched Minute even if he wasn’t actively talking to him. Every time Minute glanced up at the clock, he moved his hand in front of his mouth, trying to hide the smile that was trying to give him away.

Even though the smile was mostly involuntary, it would still work in his favour. He spent most of class time staring ahead, eyes unfocused, a faint smile on his face like he was thinking about something amusing. Yeah, that was sure to drive Wemmbu crazy. It took him a few too many seconds to realize when the period had ended, but when he blinked and realized it, he got out of there as quickly as possible. Mostly to be even more confusing, but also so Wemmbu couldn’t confront him and Minute wouldn't accidentally give himself away.

When lunch came, Minute walked all around campus, glancing behind himself every so often with a guarded expression. He settled himself in a corner that he’d discovered a bit of time ago, a place that was pretty hidden from the main corridor by a wall. He ate facing away from the hallway, but easily visible from it. Nobody really walked over here anyway. He took his phone out, and started swiping through some TikToks, the volume and the brightness turned all the way down.

Minute knew that looking behind himself by just turning his head wouldn’t work, so he’d thought about ways to look behind you without turning your head, and realized mirrors were perfect. He’d quickly discarded that idea; you couldn’t just bring a mirror into a museum without looking very, very weird. But it got him thinking about other reflective surfaces.

While he was eating dinner, he’d briefly considered using a spoon, but because of the distortion and the odd color of the reflection, it wouldn’t really work. Phones, or really any kind of screen, on the other hand, worked perfectly.

As long as he had the brightness down low, and the screen wasn’t an offendingly bright color like neon green, he could angle it to check behind himself. It wasn’t perfect, it still looked a little weird to be angling his phone like that, but it was an improvement.

And that was why he knew Wemmbu was coming up behind him, his expression a mixture of confusion and annoyance. He managed to pull together a convincing enough reaction to Wemmbu suddenly tapping his shoulder, drawing in a sharp breath and nearly dropping his phone. He whipped his head around, and forced a smile, swallowing quickly.

“Hey, Wemmbu,” Minute winced internally. He never sounded like that, and even though he was supposed to act differently than usual, he wasn’t supposed to sound like he knew he was acting weird.

“You’re acting weird,” Wemmbu told him, sitting down in front of Minute and frowning at him.

“Am I?” Minute asked helpfully, letting his eyes drift over Wemmbu’s head, unfocusing again.

He pretended to be trying to hide a smile. Wemmbu narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, it’s like you’re plotting something. I don’t like it.”

“I’m not,” Minute said convincingly. Wemmbu only looked more suspicious. “Seriously, what would I even be plotting?”

He took a bite of his sandwich. It tasted like ash, and he had to force himself to swallow, hiding his gag with a hand over his mouth. He hated eating when he was nervous, food always tasted disgusting and it always led to him feeling nauseous after.

Wemmbu shrugged. “I don’t know. If I knew, I wouldn't be asking you. But I think you’re acting creepy enough that you’ve got a secret plan or something.”

Minute openly laughed, and then quickly covered it up poorly with a cough. His face burned. He wasn’t supposed to be this openly suspicious, it wouldn’t be believable if he didn’t even try to hide that he supposedly had a plan.

It was just hilarious to him, he was acting creepy? Not Wemmbu? Wemmbu literally tried to stalk Minute to find where he lived one time. He told Minute’s location to his bullies so they could find him and beat him up. He watched Minute constantly, tracked him all through the school, and used literally anything he said against him. Minute had to monitor every single word that came out of his mouth so Wemmbu couldn't figure out more than Minute wanted him to. And he called Minute the creepy one.

Wemmbu looked really disturbed now. “You’re acting really weird. Do you know something I don't? What, do you have someone ready to jump me on the way home from school?”

“Of course not,” Minute pretended to lie, “It’s not that- I mean, I don't have any plans whatsoever.”

He was being way, way too obvious, but he also knew that Wemmbu didn’t think he was half as smart as he actually was. Wemmbu probably wouldn’t think too hard about it. Minute would have to be more subtle in the museum, but right now this was about trolling Wemmbu.

Minute repacked his sandwich in his backpack. He’d just give it to Akat later, he was too nervous to eat. Wemmbu eyed his backpack. Minute usually scarfed down his lunch as quickly as possible, not eat one singular bite and then leave it be. Just another mental tally mark under the Minute is acting weird category, even if it only stemmed from his nervousness.

He looked up, above Wemmbu’s head and quickly drew in a breath, widening his eyes. Wemmbu whirled around, trying to see what Minute had been so excited to see. Minute quietly got to his feet as quickly as possible, and had already started walking swiftly away by the time Wemmbu turned back to look at him.

He used his phone to watch Wemmbu’s changing expression with amusement, pausing to glance back once with a badly hidden smile on his face before picking up the pace and getting out of there.

From what he could see of Wemmbu’s face from his phone, he looked baffled and confused and more suspicious than ever, but Minute didn’t know whether that suspicion was of the right type. Wemmbu could know that Minute was trying to trick him into getting suspicious and just be playing his game until he could get Jake to beat Minute up again, or he could be actually suspicious and nervous about Minute’s “plan”.

Wemmbu did sic Jake on him again, but that was to be expected. So he pretended to pretend to act the same he usually did, which sounded like just acting normal, but was actually really, really unnerving. A few well-spoken sentences, some odd out-of-place expressions, and Jake was looking suspicious. Minute had guessed that Wemmbu would probably tell him about how weird he was acting, which actually made it much easier to convince Jake he had a secret plan.

It had been almost embarrassingly effortless. Minute sort of felt like an idiot that he hadn’t done that before, but whatever. It was one of tricks that was bound to stop working if he used it too much, but it was nice to know it worked in the first place. And all he’d had to do was change the inflection of his voice a bit, say some odd sentences, and “fail” to mask his facial expressions.

When Jake backed off, looking slightly nervous, it had taken every ounce of Minute self-control to not let out a shriek of pure joy, but he barely managed to hold onto his face and look just a bit disappointed. And that was all it took to have Jake walking quickly away, furtively glancing over his shoulder to make sure Minute wasn’t following him.

He’d waited until Jake was far, far away before nearly running to the museum, a huge grin on his face. He spent several minutes outside of the museum, trying to calm himself down and stop smiling like a lunatic. That would surely ruin their chances of luring the person out, but honestly, Minute wouldn’t even feel that bad about it. He felt fucking awesome!

After a few minutes of forcing himself to think about that one horror movie he’d decided to watch, he tamed his grin down to a small, suppressed smile. And that would, yet again, help him in his quest of looking really, really weird. He paid the admission fee, earning a odd look from the person at the admission desk, and wandered through the halls of art until he got to the white guy’s painting.

 

Jumper was already there, waiting patiently for him and looking at the white guy’s painting with a certain amount of concern. She glanced up happily when she heard Minute approaching, and then gave him an odd look.

“You look like you’re plotting something,” she whispered, “What is it?”

Minute felt another burst of happiness explode inside his chest. “That’s the point! We need to look more appetizing. Well. Not appetizing, but like. Odd. And followable. How threatening do I look?”

Jumper looked confused, but she glanced over him and shrugged. “I dunno. Not much, I guess. You look like a teenage guy that’s planning a dumb prank. Sorry.”

“No, that’s perfect!” Minute whispered energetically, “We need to look like we’re plotting something, but in a non threatening way. That way they’ll wanna follow us, but not feel like we’re too dangerous to follow.”

Jumper looked surprised. “I mean, you’re not wrong, but it sounds like you’ve thought about this a lot.” She peered closely at him. “Um. "How much sleep did you get last night?”

Minute ignored her question, moving a bit closer to her and taking out his phone and pulling up the notes app. He leaned in even closer, so close their heads were nearly touching, and Jumper started to lean back, looking uncomfortable. Minute quickly typed out a better explanation, and passed her his phone.

Jumper read over it, her eyes moving from side to side. She beamed at him, and then slapped her hand over her mouth, looking horrified. Minute surreptitiously gave her a thumbs up, and she nodded back, passing him back his phone and taking out her own. Minute tried to see what she was doing on it, and she tilted it so that he could see what she’d typed better.

U wrote that you hav a plan to not scare them off by loking behins you?

Minute nodded, and whispered to her, “You can turn your phone down on low brightness and use it like a mirror, or use your camera, but the second one’s more obvious.”

Jumper nodded back, and turned down her brightness and squinted at it. She let out a gasp and looked up at him, obviously happy with his discovery. She tilted her phone, studying it carefully. Her eyes widened, and she glanced over at Minute, a knowing look on her face. Minute could guess; they were being watched already.

“We should make sure they're suspicious of us, and then let’s go to the park,” Minute murmured softly.

Jumper nodded, and let out a giggle that she quickly stifled. Minute winced, and glanced to the side, like he was checking to make sure they weren’t being watched. He let out a fabricated sigh of relief, and gave her an annoyed look for show, nudging her shoulder with his hand.

“What?” she whispered.

Minute pointed at his phone, trying to calm down his smile. Jumper nodded knowingly, despite the fact that his phone showed nothing but his contacts screen, and Minute nearly started beaming. It was incredible how well Jumper understood him, even if it was just something like this. They worked together better than he’d ever worked with another person, at least in the last several years, and they’d only known each other for about a week.

They murmured awkwardly to each other for the next few minutes, nudging each other’s shoulders and smiling mysteriously. Eventually, though, Jumper decided they’d waited long enough, and whispered in Minute’s ear that they should go to the park now.

Minute let a smile unfurl on his face, and nodded. They walked toward the entrance, looking like they were in a hurry but trying to look like they weren’t in a hurry. If that made any sense whatsoever. Minute was honestly starting to confuse himself with all the lying about lying and whatnot.

He pretended he was looking on his phone for something and checked behind him for their stalker as they walked past the reception desk. His stomach twisted with anxiety as he caught sight of the blue hair in the reflection off his phone. Their plan was working, and if they messed it up now they might never get another chance. They had to do this right.

They kept up their mildly suspicious behavior as they crossed the street, whispering to each other with half-hidden smiles. Their stalker kept following them, keeping pace behind them as they turned down the road, nearing the park.

“We’ll loop around the tree near where Akat lives,” Minute whispered to Jumper, “Then we’ll be able to get up behind them and catch them.”

Jumper nodded firmly. Their feet made little swishing sounds through the grass as they crossed the park, the other person’s footsteps hidden behind theirs.

The tree Minute was referring to was the biggest in the park, big enough that two people could stand behind it and not be seen. As they got closer and closer, Minute tugged lightly on Jumper’s sleeve, trying to get her attention.

“You just keep walking for a little bit longer. I’ll tackle the person.”

Minute could almost swear that she rolled her eyes, but she just whispered back okay, and kept walking, so he must have imagined it.

Minute let his hand trail over the bark of the tree absentmindedly, like he wasn’t really paying much attention to it. Then, as quickly as he could, he ducked behind it. He heard the person behind them’s sharp intake of air, and their footsteps coming closer. Minute silently mapped out the ground behind the tree, trying to guess where they were.

As soon as he heard their foot land on an exposed root instead of grass, Minute lunged at them from behind the tree. The person’s brown eyes opened wide as he flinched, holding his camera in front of him, as if to defend himself.

“No, wait! I have photos!” he yelped.

Minute’s aim was really just to knock him down so he couldn’t run away, but his legs tangled with the other person’s, sending them both sprawling onto the grass, Minute on top. Minute’s nose collided with his head, and they both groaned with pain. Minute was quicker to recover, detangling his legs and rolling off of the other boy.

He still seemed to be recovering from the blow to his head, so Minute didn’t bother to hold him down or something so he couldn’t run away. Instead, he just watched him, trying to learn all he could about him.

His hair was dyed a bright blue, and he was wearing a blue jacket that looked a bit worse for wear. He held a camera in his hands, the kind that professional photographers would use. Minute’s eyes widened. Photos?

The boy groaned and opened his eyes, and Minute glared at him as fiercely as he could. He flinched away from him.

“What photos?” Minute demanded, “You have photos?” Of us breaking into the museum?

“You have photos?” Jumper echoed, her eyebrows drawing together. “Of what?”

The boy scrambled to his feet and brushed himself off, glancing nervously from Minute to Jumper. “Um.”

“Why were you stalking us?” Minute asked, doing his best impression of a scary person.

The boy yelped and took a few steps away from him, and Minute felt a burst of pride. “I, uh, wasn’t-”

“Photos of what?” Jumper repeated.

The boy looked overwhelmed, a terrified expression on his face. “Um, um. The paintings?”

Minute asked “What about them?”, at the same time Jumper said, “But you can’t take pictures in the museum.”

The boy winced. “Uh, can you slow down? One question at a time.”

Minute crossed his arms and scowled. “Fine. Why were you stalking us?”

The boy bit his lip nervously. “Ummm…. How about a different question?”

“What’s your name?” Jumper asked.

“Just explain everything,” Minute suggested.

The boy looked like a deer in headlights. “My name’s- just call me 4C, nobody uses my real name anyway.”

“4C?” Jumper echoed.

He nodded. “My real name has four c’s in it, but nobody really wants to try to pronounce it. I like 4C anyway, so it’s a win-win. I have photos of the paintings, like i said. Um-” he looked worriedly at them, “Did you see how the people in them move?”

The other two nodded.

4C looked relieved. “Well, I convinced the museum to let me take my camera in and took some pictures of the same painting, but over a few days.”

“Wait, wait,” Minute waved his hands around, “You saw the paintings move? And what, you just thought you should stalk us instead of talking to our faces? And why the hell are none of the other people in the museum noticing? Like, do they just ignore it? Also, how did you first see them? And why is it only people our age? What about the curator? Do they know about the moving paintings? How did you convince them to let you take pictures?”

4C looked slightly scared. “I can only answer a few of those, I think. I just told them that the camera was expensive and I was worried someone would steal it, and promised not to take any pictures. I mean, I did take pictures, but not when anyone was around.”

“Answer the question about you stalking us,” Jumper said.

He glanced at the street like he was planning to escape. “I just didn’t know whether you guys also saw the paintings move. I wanted to be sure before I went up to you and made a fool of myself.”

“That’s fair,” Jumper admitted.

Minute didn’t buy it. “It was pretty obvious we knew something was up, so why didn’t you talk to us when you realized we did?”

“I, uh, I,” 4C floundered, “I wasn't sure! I don’t know, I wasn't completely confident you knew the paintings moved.”

Minute didn’t believe him. Not a single word. But Jumper looked like she believed him, so Minute acted like he did as well, and nodded grudgingly. He would be talking with Jumper about his poor excuse later, though.

“I can show you the pictures,” 4C said awkwardly, “I never took pictures of you, if that’s what you’re worried about. You can look through my whole camera roll.”

“Yeah, I think that’d really help,” Minute said, trying to prevent the suspicion from leaking into his voice.

4C handed over his camera, his reluctance visible on his face. Minute guessed that this camera was special to him, or at least cost a good bit of money. Minute might be able to wring the real reason he’d been stalking them out of him if he used the camera as leverage, but that seemed like going too far.

He held the camera out to Jumper instead, and she took it and examined it. It definitely cost a lot of money, Minute could tell. It had so many unnecessary little buttons on it. Unnecessary buttons equaled expensive, Minute knew.

The first few pictures were of a big, fluffy dog with brown spots. 4C’s face turned red. “Sorry. That’s my dog. I was experimenting with different ways of lighting.”

They all looked like the same picture to Minute, but he moved on regardless. The next one was of a painting, one that looked like it had been fingerpainted. Four people were sitting around a table, one with a big fedora, one with cat ears, one with a multicolored square head, and one with white hair. They were all smiling and looking at each other.

But on the next photo in the camera roll, the one with the white hair was looking more lovestruck, a faint smile on his face. The others were rolling their eyes at him, and it looked like he’d been talking. Yep, this was definitely another moving painting. Although now Minute had a burning curiosity to figure out who or what made the guy with white hair look like he just got proposed to.

And this confirmed that he had seen them move, and he hadn’t just been messing with them. Minute felt the doubts in his mind start to ease up. People did stupid things, and maybe 4C following them around was just one of those. He could deal with that. And he definitely looked trustworthy, his face open and earnest. That didn’t mean he was, though.

“I wonder why that guy’s looking like that,” Jumper commented, studying the second photograph with interest.

4C shrugged. “I don’t know, he looks like that a lot. Although, it’s better hidden most of the time. You really have to catch them off-guard to get a photo of them that looks different enough from the other photo. They're good at keeping their expressions under wraps, but I've gotten a few good pictures. I wish there was a way to catch them while they think there’s no one around, though.”

“Well, actually, Minute and I br-” Jumper started.

“We found that you can make them angry,” Minute interrupted, “At least, the painting you saw us at- that person, he gets angry easily, so we can piss him off and you can take a picture of it.”

Jumper gave him a strange look, probably confused as to why Minute didn’t want to tell 4C about breaking into the museum, but Minute ignored it. Jumper hesitantly nodded.

4C beamed. “So does that mean we’re gonna work together?”

Jumper gave him an encouraging smile. “Sure! With your camera, I'm sure we’ll be able to get some good proof of the moving paintings.”

Minute nodded, but carefully studied 4C. He definitely didn’t trust him, not after all the stalking he’d been doing, and he was going to find out the real reason no matter what.

Notes:

happy belated Halloween to those who celebrate it, and have a wonderful day to those who don't! make sure you drink food and eat some water.

Chapter 14: Minute

Chapter by ParaDexTwo (reconnectng)

Summary:

Minute doesn’t trust 4C

Notes:

This chapter is heavier than the ones before it. TW for internal transphobia

Jumper extracted 4C’s phone number from him, and made a group with him in it so they could all talk together. Minute quickly made up an excuse after that, saying he needed to go eat dinner, and walked back home. He needed to talk to Jumper privately, but there wasn’t any real way of doing that without telling 4C that he wanted to talk to her alone.

His parents greeted him when he walked through the door, and Minute ignored them. That was the policy he’d decided on. If they couldn’t use the right name then he wasn’t going to respond. He shouldn’t have to respond to anything but his name, and that wasn’t his name and it never had been. He’d just keep that up until they caught on.

It hadn’t exactly worked, though. He’d tried reminding them, but after they apologized and promised him they’d get it right the next time, they got it wrong again.

He took out his phone as soon as he got to his room, laying down on his bed. Jumper had already sent him a message.

Jumper: what was tha about? You don’t want him to know that we broak into hte museum?

Minute: yeah i dont

Jumper: why?

Minute: because i dont trust him

Minute: he stalked ups for days and his best excuse was he was nervus or somehting

Jumper: i mean what could even be another reason?

Minute: i dont know thats what i wanna find out

Jumper: well if he does have a seceret agenda then hes not just gonna tell you his plans

Minute: i think i could scare him into doing that

Jumper: or you could ask nicely. why do you wanna scare him so much?

Minute stared at the phone screen. Why did he want to scare 4C so much? Was it just because he didn’t trust him? Maybe he just liked having control over a situation for once, not being the one scared for the first time. Trolling Wemmbu didn’t count, even if he wasn’t actively scared he definitely wasn’t really scaring Wemmbu either.

Minute: because i want answers and he as them and hes keeping them from us

Minute *he has them

Jumper: he seems nice you could just ask nicely

Minute: we literaly just did that and i’m 90percent sure he didn’t tell us the whole story

Jumper: i mean thats fair i guess.

Minute: i think hes hidng something

Jumper: okay but how are you gonna fogure put what?

Minute didn’t know. His thumbs hovered over his phone as he thought.

Jumper: oh by the way after you left we were talking

Jumper: and we learned that we go to the same high school!

Jumper: we’re even in the same wnglish class

Jumper: how cool is that?

Minute felt a bitter taste in his mouth. Jumper and 4C went to the same school? He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Was it even something he was supposed to feel something about? Was that normal?

Minute: oh. okay.

Minute: congrats i guess?

Jumper texted something else, but Minute didn’t really read it. There was no reason that reading those texts about Jumper and 4C in the same English class should make him feel sort of nauseous. He shouldn’t be rereading those messages, almost hoping they’d change if he stared at them hard enough.

He didn’t really know what was bothering him so much, but he knew that by the time he finally put his phone away and went to sleep, Jumper’s texts were burned firmly into his mind, the words seared to the backs of his eyes.

He didn’t sleep very well that night.

 

He woke up to Jumper texting him again. It was Saturday, thankfully, so he could spend the whole day at the museum with Jumper. And 4C, if he showed up. Minute sighed and got himself ready. Jumper already trusted him, Minute could tell. If she didn’t, then she wouldn’t have been so happy to learn they had the same English class.

Minute couldn’t trust him, and it was sort of weird that Jumper trusted him so easily. Had they talked more after Minute had left, and had something he’d said convinced Jumper he was trustworthy? Minute wasn’t going to just let his guard down, there was something off about it all.

He checked Jumper’s texts, and instantly felt his stomach clench.

Jumper: 4c said hell meet us at the museum

Jumper: hey i know you dont trust him but just give him a chaince okay?

Jumper: you dont have to be super nice just not really really suspicous for no reason

Minute scoffed. He wasn’t being skeptical for no reason, he had one, and it was a good one. It didn’t make any sense to him, and he wanted answers.

Minute: depends on how suspicious he acts

Jumper: fine

Jumper clearly didn’t like him being so wary. Minute felt his stomach turn over, and his hand clenched around his phone. It shouldn’t matter that Jumper trusted him, but now he felt sort of guilty.

When he got to the museum, Jumper and 4C were already talking together, sitting in front of the white guy and smiling. Minute had to take a few deep breaths before greeting them, sitting down next to them.

“Minute!” Jumper beamed at him, apparently having forgotten about their argument. Or was it not an argument? Was it just one-sided? Was it all in Minute’s imagination? Had he just read too much into the texts she sent?

“Hey,” Minute responded. He studied Jumper’s expression, wondering if she was faking the smile. It didn’t look like she was, and Minute started to relax. This was fine. It would be fine, he’d just ask 4C why he was following them for so long, 4C would give his real reason, one that Minute could believe, and then he wouldn’t have to be suspicious and Jumper would never get angry at him and everything would be fine.

“Hello,” 4C said cheerfully, “I was thinking we could try that thing you mentioned earlier, with this guy and-” he lowered his voice, “Taking pictures of him.”

Minute glanced up to the white guy, who looked affronted. “Um, yep. I think you should take one right now.”

The white guy gave Minute a fierce glare and then did his best to look supremely unbothered. Minute gave him a smile, the tension in his shoulders loosening.

“I can’t,” 4C whispered, “We have to wait until there’s nobody else around. Otherwise we’ll get kicked out.”

Right. Minute flushed. He should’ve thought of that, it was stupid not to. Jumper was nodding as well, so she’d also thought of it.

“Is there any way we could get the others to clear out?” Minute asked, trying to erase his thoughts from his mind.

Jumper shrugged. “How? I mean, without pulling a fire alarm or something?”

Minute stared at the ground. “I don’t know.”

“So I guess we just wait,” 4C said awkwardly.

Jumper nodded, and they all waited.

It was painful. Minute could feel the tension and awkwardness. Jumper was leaning back with her eyes closed, and 4C ws fiddling with his camera. Neither of them wanted to meet Minute’s eyes, and he honestly wasn’t sure whether he wanted them too. He stared at the ground, and waited.

He did want to find out the real reason he was stalking them, though, and this would be the perfect time to do it.

“Um,” two pairs of eyes turned toward him, and Minute remembered the reason why he hated initiating conversations. “Why were you stalking us, though?”

Minute wanted to watch 4C's face as he registered the question, but he could feel Jumper behind him, and it made his face heat up. She was probably mad, or at least annoyed, but all Minute needed was a good answer, and then he’d drop it.

“I, uh, told you,” 4C said haltingly. Minute didn’t like the way his eyes shifted around and refused to stay in one place. “I wasn’t sure whether you had seen the paintings move as well.”

“Then why didn’t you ask us?” Minute pressed, ignoring Jumper behind him. “Instead of stalking us like a murderer waiting to kill?”

4C flinched, and Jumper sighed. If Minute’s face had been hot before, his whole body was on fire now. He hated this, this feeling like Jumper was annoyed. At him. His stomach was twisted up and squeezing itself, like it was trying to rupture.

“I would never try to kill you,” 4C protested, as the same time Jumper said, “he’s not a murderer.”

“Well, how would we know?” Minute said defensively. “I just want to know why he stalked us,”

Jumper rolled her eyes. “He was just trying to make sure he didn’t make a fool of himself. And how is that any different from us tricking that janitor into thinking we were hallucinations?”

“What?” 4C said, baffled.

Minute didn’t understand. “How is that the same at all?”

“Both of them w- it doesn’t matter,” Jumper interrupted herself. Minute could see how annoyed she was, how exasperated she was. “Just drop it, Minute. He’s not gonna attack us or anything, and he’ll help us. I don’t see what your problem is.”

Minute felt like he was going to throw up, his body too hot and his stomach roiling. His vision felt sort of blurry. He took a deep breath. He was not going to cry. It wasn’t a big deal, a small disagreement shouldn’t lead to him crying his eyes out. He shouldn’t feel this betrayed, like Jumper had pushed him off a cliff and left him to drown.

He blinked hard, and nodded jerkily. He was not going to cry. He’d honestly rather die than cry in front of someone. “Fine.”

Jumper looked surprised and sort of confused. Minute forced his emotions into a mental box and squeezed it, making it as small as possible. He was good at acting, he could pretend it was okay. He shrugged. “It’s whatever. I don’t care.”

Nonchalance was probably the best thing he could manage right now, but it was really, really difficult not to scream and run and hide. He hated Jumper’s eyes on him, almost as much as he hated 4C’s.

“Okay,” Jumper said slowly, studying him carefully.

Minute summoned up the most neutral expression he could.

“Okay,” Jumper repeated, “Um. Let's move on, I guess.”

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea,” Minute said blandly.

His hands were still in fists, refusing to give up. He shoved his hands in his pockets and tried to look relaxed.

If being suspicious of 4C meant losing Jumper as a friend, then Minute could be the most trusting person alive. Jumper was his only real friend in over two years, and he didn’t want to lose that.

But did Jumper even think of him as a friend? Or just an asset to help her solve the mystery of the paintings? She might, and Minute wouldn’t know. Maybe she was like Wemmbu, acting nice and stabbing you behind the back. Maybe he needed to watch every word that came out of his mouth the same way he had to do with Wemmbu.

And realistically, there was no reason for her to think of him as a friend anyway. He was some random guy who barely even counted as a guy, who had no friends and no social skills. And he wasn’t even that good at helping them prove the paintings moved. The most he’d done was break the law and then nearly get them both caught.

It was probably better for him to just pretend everything was fine. Then Jumper wouldn’t get angry at him, and maybe she’d keep being his friend. Or pretending to, Minute didn’t know or care which.

He stayed sort of distant from the rest of the conversation, just agreeing and making small, useless comments. He did his best to act sort of down but still fine. He didn’t want either of them to think he was faking it, but if he was too sad then they might try to ask him how he was feeling.

Jumper kept trying to leave openings for him to start speaking, but Minute managed to turn them around back to her, and eventually she stopped. Maybe because she figured he just didn’t want to talk and was being mindful, or because she never really wanted him to talk very much in the first place. Minute could see why it would be the second one.

He watched Jumper and 4C talk, trying to gauge her feelings. She probably liked talking to 4C more, given that they went to the same school and 4C was more interesting than him. Minute was fine with that, though. It wasn’t really surprising, he should’ve expected that.

After they’d done something, although Minute didn’t know what, they decided it was time to go and split up. Minute nodded goodbye and went to the park, crouching down next to where Akat was lounging. She raised her head slightly, realized it was just him, and laid back down. Minute sat down next to her and watched her.

It was really soothing to watch her furry chest rising and falling, each strand of fur moving with each breath. Her ears twitched, flicking away a fly that buzzed around her head. Jumper was right, she needed to be brushed and given a bath. He was utterly incompetent at just taking care of his cat, let alone solving a mystery.

His phone buzzed, and he sighed. He really didn’t want to talk to Jumper right now, even if it was through a screen. He couldn’t ignore her, though. It buzzed again.

Jumper: are you okay?

Jumper: you were actingbreally weird today

Minute stared at his screen, not really seeing it. He couldn’t lie and say he was fine when Jumper could tell he wasn’t. She might get annoyed at him again, and he didn’t want to risk it.

Minute: im sorta tired I guess. my head hurts

Minute: im just gonna go to sleep I feel sick

Jumper: oh okay take care of yourself!

Minute stared at the little exclamation mark. It was so small, just a little mark on his screen that was made up of little colored pixels. Was she happy that he wasn’t feeling well? He knew she probably didn’t consider him a friend, at least not as much as Minute considered her a friend, but did she really prefer 4C’s company - or not enjoy his - so much that she was happy he wasn’t feeling well? It was the type of thing Wemmbu might say to him, only more straightforward.

Actually, it would make sense. If she liked 4C so much that she completely disregarded how worrying it was that he’d stalked them, then she probably liked hanging out with him more than Minute. And why wouldn’t she?

Akat knocked his phone out of his hands with a well-placed paw, and ducked her head under his hand. Minute let her curl up on his lap, absentmindedly petting her. She purred loudly, the vibrations running through him. Her eyes drifted shut. At least he had someone who he knew was a friend, someone he was positive wouldn’t stop being friends with him because of an argument.

4C had managed to convince Jumper that he was good, so why couldn’t Minute convince himself? Why couldn’t he just ignore it and not argue with Jumper and fuck up their friendship and be more interesting and more like a guy? Minute wanted to tear his body apart, claw off his skin and just stop existing, let himself be without these feelings of guilt and anger and uselessness plaguing him and pulling him down.

Minute gently shoved Akat off his lap and wandered back home. Wandered because he didn’t really pay any attention to where he was going, just letting his feet and muscle memory take him to his house.

His mom looked up at him when he arrived.

“Hey—“ Minute slammed his hands over his ears to block out the sound of his deadname.

He ignored her and stomped up to his room, somehow managing to not scream swears or burst into tears. He curled under the covers of his bed, pulling it up other his head so he was encased in darkness. Nobody could see him crying in there, but he still tried not to. Letting the tears fall felt like defeat, in some twisted way. He needed to get angry instead.

He didn’t take off his binder before falling asleep. He knew his whole body would be in pain in the morning, but he couldn’t care less right now. Just thinking about having to look at his chest made him feel sick.

Notes:

My computer is broken now. I can’t use it so this is written and posted on my phone again.

By the way just to clear thing up. The argument isn’t like friendship ending from Jumpers POV, minute sees the world through a sort of pessimistic lense. One of the most interesting parts about writing this is getting to see the same actions through different characters POVs. Even if it’s not written with their POV, it’s still really interesting to figure out how they work

Chapter 15: Minute

Chapter by ParaDexTwo (reconnectng)

Summary:

Minute learns something new.

Notes:

this one is shorter than usual, because I haven't written any of this in a lil bit. and the longer I spend away from my wips, the harder it is to start writing them again. I'm working on the next chapter already, and hopefully I'll pick up the pace with this fic again.

thank you to rhayne for beta'ing

Minute woke up feeling exhausted, like he hadn’t gotten any sleep at all. It wasn’t a school day, thankfully. He stayed in bed for the better part of the day. He heard the tell-tale dings of Jumper texting him, but he ignored them. He didn’t want to go look at the paintings today, he didn’t think he could handle it.

Eventually, he had to either respond or be an asshole, and he definitely didn’t want Jumper to think he was the latter. He picked his phone.

Jumper: minute you waawke?

Jumper: were going to the museum at nine, wanna hjoin?

Jumper: idk maybe your still not feeling well

Jumper: ill let you sleep

Jumper was already referring to herself and 4C as “we”. Minute desperately wished he’d never picked up his phone.

Minute: yeah i was sleepiing. I think i hae a codl or smthg

Jumper didn’t respond. Probably doing something fun with 4C. Minute dropped his phone on his nightstand, rolled over, and went back to sleep, glaring fiercely at the wall.

He avoided Jumper and 4C for the next few days, going right back home after school and doing his best to avoid getting cornered by Jake again. The second part wasn’t really very successful. Jumper kept trying to text him and Minute did his best to act like he was still sick. She kept asking him to go to the museum with her and 4C, but Minute kept turning her down, his stomach twisting every time he saw her texts. It was really only a matter of time before she stopped trying and Minute was effectively friendless again. He didn’t want that, though. He needed to actually agree to go at least once, soon, before she lost interest.

About halfway through the next week, Jumper texted him again.

Jumper: i know you keeps saying your sick, but do you want ta get some ice cream?

Jumper: 4C will be there, but i was sorta hoping this would be a way to start over

Jumper: hes not that bad, i prromisse.

Minute: fine

He showed up to the ice cream place early. It had taken a bit of effort to get Wemmbu off his tail. Apparently his curiosity to find where Minute lived had resurfaced, and that would be an absolute disaster. Minute wished there was a way to get rid of him.

He’d also come early to see how the other two were interacting now. Maybe they were best buds already. Maybe Jumper had only asked him to get ice cream because she wanted to end their friendship (if you could even call it that) on a good note.

He watched them walk up to him together. They seemed friendly, but not anything crazy. Minute ignored his bad feelings and swallowed the lump in his throat. “Hey.”

Jumper smiled at him. “Minute! Do you feel better?”

“Yeah, I'm a lot better,” Minute lied easily, “It was just a cold.”

Jumper nodded. “Okay, what kinds of ice cream do you guys want? Nothing crazy,” she warned, “I only have twenty dollars.”

“You don’t have to pay,” 4C protested.

“Yeah,” Minute added, a second too late. “I can pay for myself.”

“Nope, my treat!” Jumper chirped determinedly, “What do you want? I’m getting chocolate.”

“Uh, I really like the coffee ice cream,” 4C said.

Jumper nodded. “Minute?”

“What? Oh. I'll just have chocolate too,” Minute mumbled. He didn’t really care what kind he got.

Jumper nodded, and left to go order for them. Minute resolutely looked forward and did his best to ignore 4C. He wasn’t going to interrogate him again, but that didn’t mean he had to act like he trusted this guy. 4C kept glancing nervously at him, Minute knew. 4C cleared his throat, an odd expression on his face. Minute glanced briefly at him before quickly looking forward again. He would not crack.

“I know you’re probably still suspicious of me,” 4C said in a low voice.

Minute forced himself to shake his head. “No. I'm not.” Because if he was, then Jumper might stop being his friend and everything would get even worse, but 4C didn’t need to know that.

“Hm.” 4C didn’t sound super convinced. “Um. well. I think I do need to explain myself more. You’re not wrong.”

Minute turned and looked him dead in the face. 4C was fidgeting with something in his hands, clearly anxious. Minute was definitely suspicious again now, but he just shrugged and stared forward again. “It doesn't matter.”

4C frowned. “No, here.”

He held out the thing in his hands to Minute, who reluctantly took it. It was a picture, one of some guy with red hair beaming up at the camera. He looked somewhat like 4C, except more childlike and less nervous. Minute squinted at it. “Who’s this?”

“That’s my cousin. His name is- was Spepticle,” 4C said quietly, “He went missing two years ago. The last time he was seen, he was at the museum. He liked going there a lot.”

“Oh.” Minute didn’t know what to think. He didn’t know if he should apologize or something, this wasn’t an interaction he knew how to deal with. “Okay?” He wanted to punch himself. He didn’t sound at all sorry, and he regretted opening his mouth in the first place.

“I’ve been trying to figure out how- what happened,” 4C continued, his voice steadying. “The police said he must have gotten kidnapped or something on the way coming back from the museum, but the receptionists said they never saw him leave.”

Minute frowned. “That doesn’t make any sense. How come I didn't know about that? That seems like the kind of thing that would be on the news.”

“The police wanted to keep it all hushed up,” 4C said miserably, “They said they could easily get him back as long as there wasn’t any mass hysteria that might spook the kidnapper away.”

Minute scoffed. “Yeah, right. What a great job they’ve been doing.” He caught himself. “Sorry. That was kinda mean.”

4C shook his head. “No, they deserve that,” he glared at nothing in particular. “They never even found any leads. Every few months they throw some hopeful words at us as if that’ll bring him back. It’s stupid. I don’t trust them.”

Minute nodded. “Okay. What does that have to do with you following us, though?”

4C looked embarrassed. “Well. He disappeared after hanging out at the museum a lot. So I was taking pictures of everything, like the artwork, and I noticed that some of the paintings moved-”

“You told us that already,” Minute pointed out.

4C nodded. “Yeah, I know. I saw you guys also looking at the art, and I thought- well, there’s other kids here who are also looking at the art, and you guys were going out of the museum together, and I got scared that one of you was going to kidnap the other,” he finished awkwardly. “Sorry.”

Minute gaped at him. “You thought I was going to kidnap Jumper!?”

4C grimaced. “I mean. I couldn’t tell who was gonna kidnap who, but I thought that something similar might have happened to Spep. He was really trusting, and I thought that the kidnapper might have sent another kid to gain their trust and lure them away- I don’t know, I was just scared. If another person got kidnapped, nearly right in front of me-” he cut himself off, and just shrugged helplessly.

Minute tilted the photo thoughtfully. On one hand, 4C had lied to them before and he could be lying now. On the other hand, everything about him seemed to indicate that he was telling the truth. He even brought an actual picture of his cousin, although Minute couldn’t technically know it was actually his cousin. And the thing with the police wanting to keep it quiet seemed a little off.

“Do you have any other pictures of him?” Minute asked.

4C nodded, and handed him the camera he always wore around his neck. “There’s a few at the end of the camera roll.” He pressed a few buttons, and a screen popped up.

Minute looked through the photos. Some of them were really old, like years old, judging from 4C’s undyed hair. They all looked legit, though. Minute decided to believe him. Even if he still didn’t totally trust him, it was enough of an explanation that he could relax and stop being suspicious of him. And that meant that he wouldn’t have to risk Jumper getting any more upset.

Minute handed back his camera. “I believe you.”

4C looked surprised and relieved. “Thank you. I thought you wouldn’t.”

Minute shrugged. “Well, it’s a much better explanation than before, so I'll take it.”

4C nodded, letting out a long breath and relaxing. “Sorry for not telling the entire truth earlier. I wasn’t sure if you were actually trying to kidnap Jumper or not.”

Minute nearly laughed, shaking his head. It seemed sort of absurd, him trying to kidnap Jumper. Why would he even do that? “No, not gonna kidnap her. Don’t worry. And she’s not gonna kidnap me either.” He was confident in that, at least, even if he wasn’t sure whether she actually wanted to be friends.

4C gestured at the nearest table. “Wanna sit down?”

Minute nodded. Jumper joined them a few minutes later, looking between the two of them with a little apprehension. She handed them their ice cream, and smiled. “So, what do you wanna talk about?”

Minute appreciated that she didn’t look directly as 4C. She wasn't just asking him, she was asking the both of them. “Did you learn anything more about the paintings? Or get any pictures?”

Jumper shook her head. “No, it was surprisingly busy. There wasn’t any time where we were alone long enough. And I think that the paintings are getting smarter; they're not moving as much.”

4C nodded. “Yeah, the painting I usually watch didn’t really move at all. And neither did the white guy. Or Jumper’s.”

Minute nodded. “Okay. I have an idea.” He glanced at Jumper. “But, uh, the last time we tried, it didn’t go so well.”

Jumper frowned at him, then glanced meaningfully at 4C, who looked between them with confusion. She leaned closer. “Are you sure you wanna, uh…” she trailed off.

Minute nodded, a little confused. “I mean. We’re not really getting anywhere just like this, right?”

Jumper looked even more confused, but she nodded. “I just thought that you didn’t- you know, never mind.”

Minute felt utterly lost, his face heating up, but he tried to ignore it. “4C, me and Jumper broke into the museum during the night once.”

4C’s eyes went wide. “What?!” he was practically screaming, “You did what?!”

Minute pulled back. “Whoa! What?”

4C sat back down again, looking horrified. “What? How? When? What? Why the f- fridge did you do that?!”

“To catch the paintings off-guard,” Minute offered, “Because then we could catch them moving?”

4C opened and closed his mouth a few times. Then he let out a growl of frustration, his hands opening and closing like he wanted to grab something and fling it at a wall. “You two could have gotten sent to jail! Oh my god!”

“Well, we didn’t,” Jumper said soothingly, “Although it required tricking the janitor into thinking we were hallucinations.”

4C sighed, burying his face in his hands. “I don’t know if I'll have enough guts to do that with you. But if you wanna risk getting sent to prison for trying to steal from a museum, feel free, I guess.”

They talked a little more about when to sneak into the museum again, but 4C was clearly uncomfortable, and he made it clear that he didn’t want to involved with their “unnecessarily risky plan to break the law”, so Minute and Jumper agreed that they would figure it out over text later.

Surprisingly, Minute didn’t care as much that 4C disapproved the plan. Jumper seemed to think it would work, and she seemed delighted that Minute and 4C were getting along better now. So Minute was fine now. They’d worked it out.

They talked about some random stuff that Minute didn’t exactly remember. It felt good, getting to talk about irrelevant things with his (maybe) friends and not have to worry. He’d missed this, he hadn’t been able to do this since before he’d come out. Because as soon as he did, all his friends didn’t want to talk to him, or the ones who tolerated him were uncomfortable and clearly would rather that he’d left them alone.

“Minute? You good?” Jumper asked.

Minute pulled himself back to the present. “Huh? Yeah, just thinking.”

The ice cream was surprisingly good for chocolate. Minute regretted asking for it anyways, vanilla was the superior flavour. After they finished the ice cream, their conversation dwindled away, and they had to go home.

Right before they left, 4C nudged Minute. Minute turned to him, and he bugged his eyes out at Jumper, who was ahead of them.

“What?” Minute whispered.

4C sighed, apparently annoyed that Minute didn’t understand his body language. “Go talk to her! Explain things.”

“Why?”

“Because she’s probably confused about why you’re not suspicious of me anymore,” 4C pointed out, “And because she told me she had something she wanted to give you, I don't know. She wouldn’t tell me what it was.”

“Oh.” Minute watched her walk away with more than a little trepidation. “Okay. I'll do that.”

What could Jumper want to give him? Why wouldn’t she tell 4C, who was practically part of their group now? Why was she confused that he wasn’t suspicious? Wasn’t she happy that he’d stopped getting on her nerves?

But also, 4C had nudged him!! like he was one of those guys in those friendgroups who got clapped on the back and fistbumped and got physical contact in the way that only guys gave other guys! Minute personally didn’t much like physical contact, but perhaps he was okay with 4C’s.

Or maybe he hated physical contact because nobody ever gave him that, the nudges or fistbumps or nods that screamed I’m a dude! Who has friends who are also dudes! And those friends consider me as a dude! Minute felt sort of giddy, and it was hard to keep from just shrieking with joy. Was that really all it took to feel like an actual guy? Just a nudge? If it was, then Minute would take it.

Even his parents accidentally deadnaming him again during dinner didn’t ruin his good mood. Because who cared if the people who gave birth to him couldn’t even remember the right name? 4C had given him one of those guy nudges! And Jumper wasn’t angry at him anymore! Minute was smiling like a madman all through dinner, and refused to answer any of his parent’s questions about why he looked so happy. That was undoubtedly the best part, having enough mental strength to ignore his parents and their deadnaming.

He texted Jumper right after dinner.

Minute: hi!

Jumper: hi! did you like the icecream?

Minute: yeah! it was good. i talked to fourc and i learnd sometjing.

Jumper: what was it??

Minute: i’ll tell ou in person. Do you wana meet up at akats bush? I have to give her a bath anyway. And i knwo you have cat stuff. I odnt have any.

Jumper: okay! sounds good! I love your cat shes the fluffiest. and shes gonna be so much more fluffer after we wash her an dbrush her!

Minute set his phone on his nightstand and leaned back, grinning at the ceiling. And for the first time in several days, Minute didn’t instantly want to curl in a ball and cry the moment he took off his binder.

Notes:

hopefully the reveal with 4C and Spep was good n not forced and all. idk, give me your opinions in the comments Ig.

Chapter 16: Minute

Chapter by ParaDexTwo (reconnectng)

Summary:

Minute and Jumper have a talk.

Notes:

I'm very sorry. I finished this chapter like a week ago, but I forgot to post it until now.

Minute got to Akat’s bush earlier than he was supposed to, but that was good; he needed to feed her anyway. Akat was always in a better mood when her belly was full, and Minute hadn’t fed her in a few days.

She came out nearly immediately, curling around his ankle and purring loudly, probably because she could smell the tuna. Minute grinned and gave her the can.

Jumper came soon after, carrying a bag that probably had cat stuff in it.

“Hi!” she said cheerfully, “How are you?”

“I’m good,” Minute said, “Um, I was wondering how to get Akat wet, and there’s a stream a little bit farther in the park, so that’ll work.”

Jumper nodded hesitantly. “Uh, Minute? You do know that most cats hate water, right?”

Minute froze. “Uh. Oh. I forgot about that.”

Jumper laughed. “It’s fine. I forgot until you mentioned getting her wet. Hopefully she won’t try to run away, at least. My cats hate getting baths with a burning passion, it’s really funny.”

Minute nodded, a little embarrassed. “Okay. We’ll try it anyway.”

He scooped up Akat, who had finished eating and was lying comfortably on the grass. She hissed when Minute picked her up, but she didn’t make any move to bite or scratch him. He led the way through the park to the little stream, and set her down in it. Akat’s tail flicked in annoyance, and she promptly walked out of the stream and started licking her wet paws.

Minute sighed. “This might be harder than I thought.”

He gently pushed Akat back into the water. She jumped over his hand and sat down on the grass, her tail lashing. She hissed again when Minute made to push her in the water, so Minute left her alone.

“I brought treats to lure her,” Jumper said suddenly. She reached into her bag and pulled out a little container of treats. Akat stared at her for a second, and then walked over to her and started purring, rubbing her head against Jumper’s leg.

She laughed. “She’s a smart cat, she knows how to get what she wants.”

She pulled off her shoes and socks and walked into the steam, holding out a treat. The stream was pretty shallow this time of year, about half a foot deep. Still, Akat made it clear that she wasn’t enjoying the water, her ears twitching angrily. But she went in anyway, quickly snatching the treat out of Jumper’s hand.

“There’s soap in the bag,” Jumper said, “We just get her wet and soap her up.”

Minute nodded, and looked through the bag for it.

“By the way,” Jumper said, “Are you sure you’re okay? You’ve been acting really weird since 4C showed up. I know you don’t like him, but-”

“It’s fine now,” Minute said quickly, pulling out the soap. “I’m suspicious of him anymore.”

Jumper squinted at him. “I feel like you’re just saying that to make me feel better. I mean, you very much didn’t like him before, and it’s not like he’s really done anything to make you like him more that I know of.”

Minute handed her the soap without meeting her eyes. “I’m not. And while you were getting the ice cream, we talked some more, and he explained some things.”

“Yeah? What’d he say?” Jumper asked.

“He had a cousin who went missing at the museum, and he’s been trying to find any sort of clues for where he’d gone or how. When he saw us at the museum, he thought that one of us was going to get kidnapped like his cousin had. Or, like, that one of us was sent to lure the other away from safety so someone could kidnap them.” He started scooping up water and dumping on the unwilling cat, ignoring her little hisses of displeasure.

“Oh,” Jumper sounded shocked, “Wow, that’s- that’s, he thought one of us was a kidnapper?”

“Yeah. So, actually, I had a good reason to be suspicious of him, and he was hiding something,” Minute said forcefully.

Jumper looked a little taken aback. “I- yeah, I guess so.”

Minute nodded. Jumper was trying to get Akat soapy, but she was having none of it. Every time she picked up her paw and tried to rub some on it, Akat simply stuck her paw into the water again, washing it away. With a sigh, Jumper gave up and moved to her back instead.

“So then why’d you try to pretend that you didn’t have a good reason to believe him?” she asked.

Minute hunched his shoulders. “Well, you clearly didn’t believe me, so what was the point of getting you annoyed for no reason?”

Jumper looked confused. “I mean, friends can disagree over some things and still be friends, right? Yeah, it was a little annoying, but you did have a good reason. I guess I should've listened more.”

“You really wanted to trust him,” Minute mumbled, “Why? He’s done nothing for you, and you’re already trying to tell him about how we literally broke the law. What if he decided to tell the museum about that? What if he tried to do something to us?”

“Well, you called him a murderer,” Jumper said defensively, “Which he definitely isn’t! And you’re the one who told him about us breaking into the museum when we ate ice cream!”

“That was after he told me the real reason he was following us around,” Minute protested, “And how would you have known that he’s not a murderer at the time? He was stalking us!”

“No, he wasn’t!”

Minute scowled at her. “Yes, he was. Following someone around multiple times without their knowledge counts as stalking!”

“Fine!” Jumper snapped, “Whatever! We know why now, does it even matter?!”

“Yeah, it- wait, where’d Akat go?”

Minute glanced around, his heart rate spiking. Logically, he knew Akat was fine on her own, but she’d literally disappeared. He spotted a dark head bobbing downstream, where it was deeper, and ran over to her as fast as possible. The moment he got close enough to actually see what was going on, he let out a sigh of relief. She wasn’t drawing, she was doing her best to swim away from them and wash away the soap, ducking her head underwater and swimming even faster the moment she noticed him running after her.

Minute splashed into the water and scooped up the cat, who let out the loudest yowl that Minute had heard her make before. She somehow slipped out of his hands, and ran up the bank of the stream, disappearing into the foliage. Minute didn’t try to chase her, it was beyond pointless; she was scarily fast when she wanted to be.

He stood on the edge of the stream and stared after her. Jumper caught up and followed his gaze to the trees.

“She ran away,” Minute said unnecessarily.

They both stood there for a few seconds, saying nothing, then Jumper sighed. “Can we just forget about it now? You found out the real reason, and we know now that he’s not a murderer or whatever. We don’t have to argue about this.”

Minute shrugged. “Okay.” She was the one who’d gotten super defensive, though, and he’d just responded to that. He dug his fingernails into his palms and took a deep breath. Even if he was frustrated, he needed to stay calm. “She’ll be back, eventually. She’s just annoyed. I’ll wait for her, but if you have something to go to-”

“No, no,” Jumper cut in quickly, “I’ll stay. Plus, you’d need the comb and stuff.”

Minute nodded absently, trudging back toward the bag that’d been abandoned. He sat down next to the water and dropped his hand into the water, watching the sunlight catch the waves. He wasn’t sure that he wanted Jumper to stay, after that argument. Plus, Jumper was usually so chill, it was really unusual for her to get so defensive so quickly like that.

Maybe Jumper wasn’t actually as nice as she’d acted before, maybe she was just pretending earlier to get him to like her. But wouldn't that mean that she had wanted to be his friend? Had that changed now, then? When he’d started arguing with her about 4C, had she decided that she didn’t want to be friends with him anymore, and that was why she was being so defensive now? But then, why had she invited him to get ice cream? And she’d seemed genuinely happy that he and 4C were getting along now.

“Minute?” Jumper asked tentatively.

Minute blinked. “Uh. What?”

Jumper sighed. “I’m sorry for blowing up at you like that.” Wait, now she was apologizing? Minute was utterly baffled. What did she want? “I’m just… I know sometimes people can push away others who aren’t bad because they're scared that they’re not. You were right to be suspicious of him, but most of the time, with others, that I've, um, seen, they don’t actually have a good reason, and I guess I just assumed it was the same here. Sorry.”

Minute squinted at her, ignoring the warmth that bloomed in his chest and the tension easing in his shoulders. “Are you speaking from experience?”

Jumper’s face reddened a bit. “No. Yeah. I guess so.”

Minute nodded, relaxing. It made sense that she’d had a similar experience to 4C so she’d gotten overly protective over him. Plus, she wouldn’t have apologized if she didn’t want him to like her, so she must actually want to be his friend.

On the other hand, he didn’t entirely know how to accept an apology. “Thanks.” That seemed close enough, but Jumper still seemed down, watching the stream ripple with a sort of sad expression. “Um. I know what you mean. I shouldn’t have called him a murderer, though. It’s not like I've been stalked by a murderer before.” He felt a funny feeling in his stomach. “Actually, I don't know.” Wemmbu could have killed someone, on purpose or not, but Minute wouldn’t put it past him. “There is a guy who stalks me, though, so I guess I have experience in that.”

Jumper’s eyes widened. “What?! Minute! That’s not okay, you gotta tell someone!”

Minute almost rolled his eyes. Yeah, he should, but then what? Wemmbu would have a million excuses lined up, and telling his parents would lead to them telling the school and deadnaming him and misgendering him in the process. It would destroy everything he’d tried so hard to do, pretending like he’d always been male, making sure that nobody even tried to contact his parents, preventing anyone from figuring out his past.

Everyone thought of him as the random guy who had nearly no friends, and Minute was fine with that as long as it was “random guy” and not “random girl”. He didn’t want a situation like his old school, and the moment he did anything that might possibly get his parents to talk to people about him, that was inevitable. Plus, Minute could handle Wemmbu on his own.

“He’ll lose interest,” Minute said firmly. “It’s annoying, but he’s never done anything weird or dangerous.” If you didn’t count all the times Wemmbu got Jake to hurt him, or the things he’d said about throwing rocks at Akat, or every other word that came out of his mouth.

Jumper looked so worried, fiddling with her sweater. “I- Minute, that’s really not okay. I guess that explains why you were really worried about him stalking us, too. But actually, you need to tell someone.”

Minute nodded. “I did. I told you.” It was a pretty pathetic attempt to steer Jumper away from dangerous territory, but Minute didn’t feel like being pressured to inadvertently destroy his life. “He’s done this before, and he’ll lose interest again. I’m not concerned about it.” He was, though, but Jumper didn’t need to know that.

Jumper sighed. “Fine. I guess I can't really force you to, but just. Keep yourself safe, and if you need to tell anyone, I'll help you.”

A rustle made Minute turn around, but it was just Akat, stalking arrogantly over to them. She sat between them and let out a meow. Minute grinned, and scooped her up. She purred, digging her claws into his sweatshirt, probably to dissuade him from putting her down again.

Jumper beamed at the sight of the cat, and cooed at her. Her fingers twitched, obviously wanting to pet her, but she restrained herself. “Oh my gosh! She’s back! She’s so cute, she’s adorable, I love her!”

She grabbed a brush from her bag, but paused, an uncertain look on her face.

“What?” Minute asked.

“She looks so happy,” Jumper said sadly, “I don’t wanna upset her by brushing her.”

“She’ll probably like it,” Minute said, “She liked the bath.”

“She ran away.”

“Only because we were arguing. She doesn’t like loud, angry noises. But she likes being the center of attention, so she’ll like it.” Minute reasoned.

Akat did like being brushed. She purred almost constantly, rubbing her head against the brush and trying to Jumper to brush her face. Jumper looked like she was over the moon, watching Akat with an awed expression on her face. She was good at brushing, not too forceful with the tangles and not getting in Akat’s face. Minute knew how much she hated it when people (him) tried to put their (his) face in hers.

The only thing she wasn’t a fan of was her tail getting brushed. She hissed at Jumper when she tried, but grumpily/reluctantly let Minute do it, with only minor complaints. She did have a lot of tangles and burrs, but they got through them fairly quickly. Once they were done, Akat looked a million times more happy than before, purring loudly. Her fur was much softer, and she looked almost like an actual house cat that was taken care of by someone.

Jumper couldn’t stop petting her, and Akat didn’t seem to mind. Probably because of the treats that Jumper kept feeding her. Minute was content to watch them, doing his best to ignore any negative possibilities his mind threw at him.

Akat tried to follow him home after he and Jumper parted ways, but he managed to distract her by dropping a few treats on the sidewalk and running away. He could barely take care of himself, he couldn’t be the sole caretaker of another living being. And Akat was doing fine on her own, she just liked the extra food and attention. She didn’t need him.

Notes:

reactions? thoughts? mistakes? anything you wanna tell me? just put it in the comments. :)

Chapter 17: Leo

Chapter by ParaDexTwo (reconnectng)

Summary:

Leo talks to a horse made of triangles.

Notes:

I'm back!!

 

thought it was time that our boi Leo got some screen time!
beta'd by rhayne, as always, my awesome beta!

“You can’t keep putting off apologizing, you know,” Clown said matter-of-factly. “Just because Minute and Jumper are distracted by the other guy right now doesn’t mean that we can just sit and twiddle our thumbs while waiting for you to apologize.”

Leo groaned loudly and slid off his throne onto the ground. Yesterday, he’d managed to avoid another attempt to force him to apologize, which was only a day after the kids in the corner had demanded one, so it was reasonable that he wanted more time. Minute and Jumper had managed to lure the other guy out of the museum, and were probably suspicious of each other, but Clown was right. Mid and Cube would track him down eventually, and the blue guy wouldn’t keep Minute and Jumper distracted forever.

“I’m not going to apologize,” Leo grumbled, “It’s ridiculous, anyway. They're trying to contort me.”

“Extort,” Clown corrected, and Leo kicked him in the shin. “Why are you so averse to it? I know you love your pride, but it’s literally just one sentence, and then you’re done and we can get the kids in the corner on our side. This can’t just be because you don’t like giving them what they want. You’re not that stupid.”

Leo scowled at Clown’s implication that he was, at least, a little bit stupid. “It’s- it’s because they, uh…I don’t know,” he finished lamely.

“Then figure it out,” Clown said promptly, “Because whatever it is, we should fix it as soon as possible so we can get rid of Minute and Jumper and the blue kid as soon as possible.”

Leo kicked him again, now lying entirely on the floor. “Hey, are you trying to fix me?!”

Clown scoffed. “No, I don't think anyone could,” he paused, “Wait, that was a little mean. I only meant that maybe you just gotta psych yourself up for it. People are - I mean, aren’t gonna make fun of you for apologizing.”

Leo snorted. “Well, it’s really comforting to know that even my only friend knows that everyone makes fun of me.”

“I’m not your only friend, you have Terry. And Vitalasy’s pretty nice to you as well,” Clown started walking toward the edge of the painting. “I’m going to go talk to Branzy. See you soon. Please do think about it.”

“Don’t worry, I promise I won't!” Leo called after him.

He stared up at the black painted ceiling of his painting, and instantly decided that staying here wasn’t going to provoke any thought whatsoever about whatever his issue was. So instead he trampled through Terrain’s painting to Spoke’s. He wasn’t really sure where he was going, just someplace where nobody else was so that he could think.

He fully expected to have to walk through several paintings, but Spoke’s was completely empty. Leo wasn’t sure where he was, but this was actually perfect, because although Spoke’s animals were dumb, they were really good to talk to.

“Yo, what’s good?” Leo gave the pointy horse a fistbump. Naturally, being a horse, it couldn’t fistbump him back, so Leo’s fist just hovered awkwardly in the air in front of Pointy Horse, who Leo was going to refer to as P.H. from now on, mainly because he thought it was funny. And there was no one else around him to tell him it was lame, either!

P.H. neighed. Leo grinned. “You’re a really goofy-looking horse, huh? You’re made out of triangles. Triangles! I feel like horses of all animals should at least be made with something with round edges. I think the artist did you dirty. You’d be a fairly cool horse if they made you look like you were actually a horse.”

P.H. made a weird snuffling noise, poking Leo’s shoulder with its sharp nose. Leo shoved it away, but not in a mean way. P.H. was fine company, just stupid. And pointy.

Leo sighed, and petted the horse. “Apparently Clown thinks I have a problem,” which he probably did, to be fair. Clown didn’t need to point it out, though. At least he’d stopped himself when he’d started to tease Leo, that was a plus.

“There’s nobody here except us,” Leo said absently, “So theoretically I could just complain to you about anything! Actually, yeah, let’s do that. We’ll just do both! Two birds with one musket shot, or something like that.”

Leo took a deep breath, and blurted out, “I don’t wanna apologize! I just don’t want to! It’s really ridiculous, because we could all be found out and burned while Mid and Cube are demanding apologies. I don’t understand why they're so mad at me for it, either. Did they actually think I'd remember to hang out at their painting regularly? Because they shared a painting with me before, they know how shitty I am at remembering things. But also, why does nobody else seem to think it’s just dumb that they're trying to extort me?”

P.H. nickered, and brushed its nose against a “wooden post”, which was just an unnaturally straight line of brown. Its pointy nose stabbed into the wood and it brayed, stuck in place. Leo snickered at it and unstuck its face from the wood. “How the hell does Spoke deal with you guys? I think I'd go crazy if I had to keep unsticking your faces and vertices from anything you stabbed with your nose.”

P.H. made another horse sound, something similar to a snort. Leo continued. “Everyone’s just kinda accepting that I have to say sorry before Mid and Cube will help. I hate it. And it’s not like they're not affected by this. They’ve been stalked for the longest! I think. But I mean, like, really? It’s like they just want me to suffer as much as possible, even if they suffer along with me. Why do they hate me so much? I thought that we were chill!”

P.H. somehow managed to give him a dirty look despite being a triangle horse, and Leo scowled at it. “I really did! I just don’t understand. Every time there was a session and everyone was there, they never said anything to me or tried to interact with me. And I was so focused on other things, I never talked to them. I guess I sorta expected them to come up to me, and then they just didn’t! Who just leaves their friend hanging like that?!” Leo was suddenly, painfully, aware of how hypocritical that sounded. P.H. was clearly also aware of it, because it tried to stab Leo with its sharp nose.

“But even if I ignored them, they also ignored me,” Leo said defensively, “I'm not the only one at fault here, and they keep acting like I'm the only one that’s done anything wrong. That’s so mean! Why would they do that to me? Don’t they understand that I'm just trying my best here? I’m not perfect, but that doesn’t mean that I'm completely awful, right?” P.H. snorted. “I didn’t even know that they missed me. They shouldn’t act like it’s all my fault, and why is everyone else just going along with it? The kids in the corner are the hypocrites, not m-”

“Um. Leo?” Spoke poked his head inside the barn, the look on his face a mix between disturbed and utterly baffled. “Why are you monologuing to my horse?”

Leo let out a very reasonable shriek of surprise and not utter terror, and curled up into a ball. P.H. whinnied happily, and trotted over to Spoke, who fed it a square green apple. Leo quickly stood up, brushing off his suit and trying to act as if he hadn’t been completely embarrassed by someone who was notorious for manipulation.

“Oh, hey, Spoke. I wasn’t, um, monologuing, I was just having a normal conversation with your horse here.” He tried to pat the horse on its flank, and winced when he stabbed his hand on the sharp corner of an obtuse triangle.

“I’ll leave now. Bye.” He bolted for the edge of his painting, not bothering to check to see whether Spoke was chasing him. He didn’t know how his pride would recover from this. He was seen spilling his darkest thoughts and his innermost secrets to a horse? Spoke’s horse, even?

If this got around, everyone would make fun of him for having to resort to a horse for someone to talk to. The everyone being mainly Mapicc, and Ash probably. But Ash made fun of everybody, and Mapicc just loved making fun of Leo ever since he’d stabbed him a few times. Well, more like fifty.

He didn’t stop running until he got back to his painting. Then he buried his face into his hands and curled into a ball, letting out a loud groan of sheer embarrassment. That had to be one of the worst things someone had walked in on him doing. Spilling his guts to a horse that wasn’t even his. This was going in his list of most embarrassing things to happen to him, right after the time Terrain walked in on him trying to do cool superhero poses and the time he tripped while attempting the Melbourne Shuffle in front of everyone.

Leo let out a sob-groan of despair, and grabbed one of the curtains, covering his burning face with it. Even just thinking about how many times he’d embarrassed himself was embarrassing. He needed to get himself together.

He stood up, took several deep breaths, cleared his throat, and said loudly and forcefully, “I am not a joke! I am not the laughingstock of Lifesteal!”

The words echoed around his painting, fading quickly and leaving him standing awkwardly behind his throne, as if he’d never spoken.

Somehow, it felt like the silence was mocking him.

Notes:

shorter filler chapter unfourtunatly, but I'm getting back into the flow of things!

I know it's been a while, feel free to throw bricks at my head as retaliation! it's been like 3 months, but on the plus side, I've gotten a lot better at 3d modeling! I'm working on something currently, but who knows if it'll go anywhere.

Notes:

it's a pretty short first chapter, but things will be getting more exciting later on!

also put title names and chapter nameses in the comments Ihave zero ideas for them. please!