After the weird run-in with Flauros in the haunted house, the rest of it isn't nearly as scary.  Especially because Will uses this time to finish his movie lecture or whatever.  I will admit, it was pretty funny hearing him lose his sh*t and point out any movie references in the haunted house.  So to the relief of my sensitive heart, I don't nearly pee myself anymore.  

We all part ways after going to check out something labeled 'FUNHOUSE', only to find ourselves stumbling through one of those stupid mazes of weird mirrors and stuff.  Slightly disappointed, we all agreed to go do our own things and meet back up at dinnertime.  Now, I'm at the beach, finally putting my artistic abilities to use.  Call me basic, but I'm recreating my view of the ocean from the shoreline.  To be fair, this is the first time I've gotten to use my tablet since before Hope's Peak, so everything's a bit rusty.  I get back into the swing of things pretty quickly, which isn't much of a surprise considering I'm the Ultimate Digital Artist and all, but it's still nice to know that I haven't magically lost all of my skills.

I'm on my fifth layer of shading on the water when I swear I hear something.  Like the scratching sound of a pencil against pater, and not in the bad way.  In fact, it's almost rhythmic, in a sense.  Confused, I look to my side, and-

"Azrael!" I say excitedly.

Startled, the poet practically jumps out of his skin, instinctively hugging his journal tight to his chest to prevent anyone from seeing his work as he tries to figure out the source of the noise.  Finally, his panicked ice-blue gaze falls on me.

"Oh, hi, Sophie," he says quietly.

"I haven't really seen you around recently," I comment. "Where've you been?"

"Around, I guess.  Spending more time on my poems."

So he's throwing himself into his work.  I have a feeling I know why.

"Are you doing okay?" I ask gently.

Azrael hesitates before saying, "I guess."

I glance over at the journal in his lap. "Whatcha writing?"

He shrugs. "Nothing good."

"I'm sure it's great." I won't push him to show me or anything, because as an introverted artist myself, nothing causes me greater anxiety than when someone asks to see what I'm working on.

"It's really not, but thanks." And there it is.  The typical artist response to a compliment.  

"Your art is cool too," he adds after a second.

I snort. "Thanks, but no."

We stare at each other for a moment before laughing quietly together. 

"It's just an artist thing, I guess," Azrael shrugs, pulling on the strings of his hoodie.

His tremendously oversized, thick, dark-colored hoodie.

"Azrael, it's, like, ninety degrees out," I tell him. "How the ever-loving f*ck are you not dying of heat stroke?"

He sinks deeper into his hoodie at the question. "It's comfortable."

"Yeah, in Antarctica, maybe."

"Seriously, I'm not that warm!" he insists.  However, I can see him sweating beneath of his thick, fluffy hair.  This kid's lying skills are sh*t.

"Come on, we're getting you inside to somewhere with AC," I insist, reaching out and gently tugging on his arm.

"Sophie, I'm fine!" he objects, stubbornly refusing to budge.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" I ask, sticking out a hand in front of him.

He blinks, and I can see the dizziness in his eyes. "Uh... four.  No, thumbs don't count as fingers, right?"

"I'm not even holding up my thumb," I say. "How long have you been out here for?"

Before he can respond, I add, "Doesn't matter.  If you're dizzy and overheated, you can't stay out here.  It's almost like you're trying to-"

Oh.

"To be fair, if I pass out, I don't have to think about anything," Azrael defends.

"Nuh-uh.  You can pass out beneath of a fan with a glass of water next to you.  Come on, before I call Dana on you." In a sudden burst of motivation, I snatch his journal and run.

"SOPHIE!" I hear him yell behind me. "DON'T LOOK AT IT!"

I keep booking it all the way to the hotel lobby, nearly crashing into Dana.

"Whoa, slow down, girlie!" she exclaims. "What's got you so worked up?"

I motion to the journal. "I'm luring Azrael inside because he's slightly delirious and definitely going to pass out from being out in the sun for too long."

"Someone ought to convince him to stop wearing that massive hoodie outside," Dana grunts. "Alright, I'll get him a glass of water for when he gets here.  You just make sure he didn't clock out while running after you."

I set the journal down on the lobby couch and glance out the window.  I can see the dark-haired poet slowly making his way over, and I don't need binoculars to know he's exhausted.  Poor guy, he's gotta learn that there are healthier distractions than overheating yourself to the point of unconsciousness.

"Are you by some chance a therapist?" I ask Dana as she comes back with a glass of ice water. 

She chuckles as she sets it down on the stand next to the couch. "Ever heard of telling the bartender all your problems?  You know I've heard it all."

As soon as Azrael finally stumbles inside, he practically collapses on the couch.  

"Better?" Dana asks him, and he mumbles an incoherent response that I'm pretty sure translates to yeah. 

The barista sits down on the couch next to Azrael, waiting patiently for him to catch his breath, and as I turn to leave, I hear her trying to coax him into drinking some water.

"...so just think about it!  A steampunk hydroponics layout would be epic!" comes a familiar tiny voice.

As I walk down the path towards my cottage, I see Caim and Zeben by the pool together.  The hydroponics specialist has his legs in the water, watching as Caim gestures theatrically next to him.  Clearly something has the engineer excited.

"Ooh, and maybe Sophie could draw out a design!" he adds as he sees me, leaving me no choice but to enter the conversation.

"What are we talking about?" I ask.

"We're thinking about collaborating on a project!  Like, a super cool hydroponics thing made from steampunk engineering!" Caim says enthusiastically.

"Y-yeah.  Yeah, right.  Seems pretty cool what this little guy's proposing," Zeben agrees, but the tone of his voice and the distant look in his eyes reveal that he's distracted.

"Whatcha thinking about?" I prod, sitting down next to the light-brunette.

He blinks. "Oh, uh... y'know.  Life.  The normal stuff.  This place is weird, but I'm glad to be stuck here with you guys and not a bunch of weird strangers."

"Um, up until, like, a week ago, we were weird strangers," I remind him. "As a matter of fact, Flauros is still basically a weird stranger."

Zeben laughs. "Right.  But you get what I'm saying?  I like this group of people, even if half of 'em are... y'know... I'm glad to have met 'em."

"Aww, that's so nice of you!" Caim squeals. "I'm glad to have met you too!"

"Hmm... are you... sure about that?" All of a sudden, Zeben gives Caim a gentle push, and he goes tumbling into the pool with a big splash.

Zeben and I are both drenched in the process, and I look over at him with wide eyes. "Zeben!"

"What?  He's tiny, he's basically his own floatation device or something," he says nonchalantly, nodding towards where Caim is treading water and gasping for air.

"Hey!" the engineer finally exclaims, looking over at Zeben with an exaggerated expression of betrayal. 

Okay, okay.  It is kind of funny.  F*ck it, it's really funny.

Zeben notices me laughing and says, "See?  He's totally fine."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," I agree.  Then, in a moment of confidence, I give Zeben a firm shove forwards into the pool as well.

My heart skips a beat as he suddenly reaches out, grabs my arm, and sends me falling into the pool as well.  Once I surface, I cough out some water and splash him in the face.

"Hey, if I'm going down, you're going down with me!" he exclaims, giving me a playful splash in response as he uses his free hand to move his dripping, soaked hair out of his eyes.  

"What happened out here?" Evangeline cries as she appears in my periphery. 

"Don't worry about it, unless you wanna join us," Zeben calls to her.

She shakes her head profusely. "I'm quite alright, thank you very much."

"Suit yourself," he sighs. 

I suddenly realize that I'm still wearing my bag and shriek, practically jumping out of the water as I pull out my tablet. "Sh*t, sh*t, sh*t-"

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" Zeben apologizes, pulling himself out of the pool as well as he realizes his mistake. "If you need me to, I can take a look at it, I'm pretty good with technology and-"

All the tension leaves my body once I see that my screen still turns on when I tap the button on the side.  Thank god the store didn't lie when they said it was waterproof.  Zeben relaxes as well once he sees that everything's good.

"I... I'll get out of your way," he says quietly, his eyes apologetic as he quickly hurries off.

I almost run after him, but Caim stops me.

"I think he's upset that he almost broke your tablet," he informs me. "He's a pretty sensitive guy when it comes to his impact on others.  If he does something wrong, he feels terrible."

"Oh." I pause. "Well, I'll go talk to him later.  I'm really not upset with him, he doesn't have to feel that guilty."

We stand there quietly for a minute.

"Maybe he'll actually let you have a chance in foosball because he feels bad."

My jaw drops at Caim's roast.  I completely forgot that Zeben had demolished me in that game of foosball, and then the whole "soccer vs. football" debate... Wow, time flies.  It feels like that was ages ago.

"Okay, first of all, I'm hurt that you attacked me like that," I start. "But also the fact that you remembered that is kind of impressive."

"It's hard to forget the look on your face," he says matter-of-factly.  

WHO IS THIS KID??

"Alright, can you stop tearing me apart emotionally, please?" I ask.

Caim gives me a wholesome smile. "Yeah!  Sorry, did I go too far?"

Dear god, it's times like this when I remember that this precious bean is literally one of the best engineers in the world.  He may be tiny and adorable, but those brains are scary as hell.

I start to get cold now that I'm soaking wet out of the water.  I see Caim shivering too.

"Hey, let's check the lobby for some towels," I suggest.

Dana screams as soon as we set our soggy feet inside.

"NOPE!  STAND OUTSIDE, I'LL BRING YOU TOWELS," she shouts, shooing us out quickly.

A few seconds later, she comes outside with towels for each of us. "I cook, I fix drinks, sometimes I clean, but ain't no way in hell I'm cleaning up your water tracks.  So if you want to set foot in that building after just taking a dunk in the pool, then you better be willing to clean up after yourselves."

Will, who seems to have overheard the conversation as he walks up to the hotel, laughs. "Oh damn.  What'd you two troublemakers do to piss her off?"

"Where've you been?" Dana raises an eyebrow at him. "You said you wanted to explore the jungle a bit for set purposes, but you've been gone a while.  Did you check on Iris too or something?"

"Nah, I-" his eyes go wide. "Have you checked on him?"

She shakes her head. "I never got around to doing it."

They pause, exchanging nervous looks.

"We gotta go check on him," Will says.

Caim and I find ourselves following the two to Iris's cottage.  The atmosphere feels... quieter than usual as we approach the door.  Will turns the doorknob, and...

Dana stops dead in her tracks.  I look past her and see exactly why.

The chair in the middle of the room is empty.

We all file into the cottage, scanning the area in shock.  It's like the flautist disappeared entirely.  Even the rope is gone.

"Ugh, that b*tch!  I knew he was planning something!" Will grits his teeth as he slams the door shut behind him with a rather aggressive amount of force.

Suddenly, there's a slight creak...

...and something drops from out of nowhere.

...holy sh*t.

https://youtu.be/l5BypSbctKo

***

(2035 words)