"........,"

ִ ࣪𖤐 CONDUCT YOURSELF PROPERLY...

Or the Doctor may just have to take more... direct action.

And by that, I mean, don't forget to vote, comment, and leave your "delightful" thoughts.

It's not just for my ego, you know - it's for science.

Yes, science.

Totally.

. . . . . ╰──╮꒰ 🧪 ꒱ ╭──╯ . . . . .

CLICK...

Clack, click, clack .ᐟ

The steady rhythm of the Doctor's boots continued to echo, each click and clack threatening to drive the Foxian beside him up the wall. (😭)

Kuya's ears twitched in tune with the sound, like they were picking up the rhythm of some sort of strange, ominous waltz.

His tail flicked back and forth lazily, like it had absolutely no time for any of this nonsense.

"Are we going to some secret underground rave?" Kuya's voice cut through the silence, playful and dripping with amusement. "Because I really didn't dress for that kind of party. Unless, of course, we're going for the 'no-shirt, no-shoes, no problem' vibe. In that case, you just say the word."

His tail swayed to the side in one smooth motion, nearly brushing the Doctor's thigh.

The Doctor, however, remained stone-faced and calm, ignoring the flirty jab like it was nothing more than a leaf blown into his face by a mild breeze.

His red eyes, glowing dimly behind that ridiculous beak-shaped mask, stayed focused straight ahead, boots still clacking in perfect rhythm.

There was no reaction to Kuya's usual antics, not even a sideways glance.

The Foxian's tail flicked again, this time a bit more impatiently.

"Come on, Doctor~" Kuya leaned in closer, voice a sultry whisper. "You and I both know I can't be silent forever. Though, if you want me to be quiet... Well..." His lips curled into a grin, sharp as a fox's smile. "...I could always just... use my mouth for other things."

For a second, Kuya's ears perked as if expecting some kind of reaction - a blush, a stutter, a small loss of composure.

Something.

Anything.

But nope.

The Doctor didn't even twitch.

Didn't even bother to slow his stride.

In fact, he kept his hands firmly clasped behind his back, as if he hadn't heard Kuya's very obvious innuendo at all.

The blue palms of his black gloves peeked out every so often, like a sign saying, Don't even think about touching me right now.

His glowing blue earring swayed with every step, gleaming coldly as he responded with a dry, indifferent tone.

"News flash: I've been told the new patient is on the verge of waking up," The Doctor said, ignoring every word Kuya had just said. "I need to assess it myself."

Kuya blinked.

Then, blinked again.

His tail twitched violently, clearly betrayed by the lack of a reaction.

His ears flattened for a long second, before popping back up like nothing had happened.

"Really?" Kuya deadpanned. "You're going to pretend I didn't just-"

"Yes." The Doctor's tone was flat.

Blunt.

Irritated.

Kuya's tail twitched again, this time more dramatically, as if his tail had feelings of its own.

He sighed theatrically, running a hand through his long purple hair, which for once wasn't in its usual braid but instead fell around him in soft, wavy locks.

A change of style that the Doctor, of course, didn't seem to notice or appreciate.

"Well, if the new patient's going to get your attention," Kuya muttered under his breath with a pout, "I wouldn't mind being knocked out for a while, too."

Still, no reaction from the Doctor.

His mask hid his expression, but the way his boots seemed to hit the floor with a little more force said everything.

Kuya caught on immediately.

"Ahhh, I get it. You're still mad about the elevator incident, aren't you?" The Foxian's lips quirked up, and his tail swished behind him like a banner in the wind.

Kuya opened his mouth to continue his cheeky teasing when-

Click... clack... whoosh.

The sudden, silky sound of someone else's footsteps interrupted the Doctor's relentless boot rhythm.

Kuya's ears perked instantly, swiveling towards the source like satellite dishes locking onto a signal.

His tail stilled, betraying the Foxian's immediate interest.

From behind them, Akira - also known as Pantalone, and to a select few, "Aki," - strode forward with the grace of a god.

His 7-foot-tall frame seemed to glide rather than walk, despite his height, like reality itself had bent to accommodate his ridiculous majesty.

Akira's long, wavy black hair flowed behind him, but this time, it was swept into a sleek ponytail that emphasized the sharp angles of his face.

His black and white heterochromatic eyes, framed by his distinctive glasses, gleamed with barely concealed amusement.

And then there were his signature black diamond-shaped moles under each eye - marks that seemed to almost shimmer in the low light, like they were too good for this world.

And did I mention his outfit? A sleeveless black turtleneck tucked into tailored pants that screamed "I'm too rich and fabulous for you to even breathe near me," topped off by a stolen, cough-... a doctor coat that was so perfectly pressed it might have had its own gravitational field.

As for his cat ears and tail? Absolutely pristine.

The ears twitched, and his tail flicked gracefully behind him, as though mocking gravity itself for daring to exist.

Kuya blinked. "Oh."

The Doctor glanced over his shoulder at Akira, his red eyes narrowing slightly behind the mask.

"Didn't know you had a step-brother-"

A pause.

A long pause.

A pause too pregnant with judgment.

"I mean... who helped you down from the ceiling?"

Akira's face remained stoic, though his ears twitched once - annoyance, no doubt.

Adjusting his glasses, he let out a very long-suffering sigh, as if the mere memory of being abandoned up there was enough to damage his impeccable pride.

"Kappa," Akira replied in a tone that was both icy and melodramatic. "He happened to be passing by."

Kuya's ears perked again at the mention of Kappa, but it was his tail that nearly betrayed him.

It twitched once.

Twice.

He barely contained a snicker.

"Kappa? Really? Him?"

Akira shot Kuya a withering look - so sharp it could've cut through the Doctor's mask, had he dared to aim it that way.

"Yes, him." He folded his arms, ears flicking back in a barely concealed huff. "Not that I had any help from you two, of course."

The Doctor simply turned his gaze back forward, the clack of his boots continuing as if Akira hadn't spoken.

"Not my problem. You should've been paying attention when the elevator malfunctioned."

Akira's glasses flashed as his expression twisted into one of exasperation.

"Paying attention?! I was the one stuck in the ceiling! While you were too busy figuring out how to reroute the elevator's power! And he-" Akira threw a pointed glance at Kuya, whose ears twitched guiltily, "-was just clinging to you!"

Kuya blinked innocently, a grin spreading across his face. "Well, it was kind of funny to see you dangling there like some kind of oversized piñata-"

Akira's tail fluffed slightly in response, but before he could retort, Kuya was already leaning in again, voice dropping to that sultry whisper. "Though, if you need help getting 'unstuck' next time... You know where to find me~."

Akira, thoroughly unimpressed, flicked his tail in response.

"Charming," He deadpanned. "Truly. But you're not exactly my type. Try harder next time."

The Foxian's ears drooped, pretending to be wounded as he dramatically clutched his heart yet the mischievous glint in his mismatched eyes still remained. "Ouch, rejected by the man who has literally stabbed someone to avoid being touched."

Akira's lips curled into a smirk as he adjusted his glasses once more. "Some of us have standards, Kuya."

The Doctor, who had clearly been trying his best to ignore the absurdity, stopped abruptly, turning to face both of them with an exasperated glare. "Must you two always flirt in front of me?"

Akira raised a brow, his tail swaying lazily behind him. "Flirt? Who said anything about flirting? I was simply pointing out that some people leave others hanging - quite literally, I might add - in an elevator shaft."

Kuya snorted, his tail flicking back and forth like a metronome. "Come on, Aki, you know you loved it. Next time, we'll leave you a piñata stick to match the look."

Akira's ears flattened slightly in irritation. "If you even think about it, I will personally see to it that you're the one stuck next time. And this time, no one's coming to get you."

The Doctor sighed, his gloved hand moving to adjust his mask. "I really don't have time for this."

Akira's lips twitched into a playful smirk. "Oh, darling Doctor, you never have time for anything fun."

Kuya's ears perked up again, tail swishing mischievously as he sidled closer to Akira. "And yet, here we are. All three of us. About to meet a mysterious new patient. Sounds like the start of a fun evening to me."

The Doctor groaned, already regretting every decision that led him to this moment.

"........,"

Eschiabel, a staff member, was squinting down at you through the glaring overhead light, a pen twirling between his nimble fingers as he lazily jotted something down in a notebook with what could only be described as "unhinged doctor's handwriting."

His kaleidoscopic eyes glittered like a disco ball at a particularly sleazy nightclub, every color of midnight reflecting in them as they darted between you and his notes.

"So, new patient's out cold, huh?" He mused to himself, absently tapping the edge of the clipboard.

His glossy black hair swayed, cascading over his shoulder like a waterfall of midnight colors.

And those goofy triangles near both eyes? Oh, they were there in all their ridiculous glory.

The white eyeshadow he had on just screamed 'I spent too long in Hot Topic and regret nothing.'

"Looks like they can sleep through the apocalypse. Impressive, really." His tone was as flat as an old soda, and just as interested.

He tilted his head, making his high heels clack ominously as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

"Oh well. Anyway, jot this down... looks like, uh..." He scanned his notebook, flipping through what seemed like pages of nonsense doodles and half-finished grocery lists.

"Let's see," The male scientist then glanced over to you, quirking an eyebrow. "No signs of waking up, still strapped to the table... heart rate steady... breathing like they're in the middle of a relaxing spa day instead of being on a slab in a lab that smells like week-old cheese..."

As the scientist in question continued to scribble down notes - probably about the latest pair of earrings he'd forgotten inside a body somewhere - he finally turned his attention to the other figure in the room.

"Selene, babe, do you mind helping me here?" He asked, barely glancing up from his notes.

Selene, standing a few feet away with an expression that looked like she had long since given up on life and all of its ridiculous demands, didn't even turn her head.

Her long, curly silver hair with streaks of red hung like a cascading waterfall down her back, and those heterochromatic eyes - one green, one black - didn't even bother to flicker in his direction.

Freckles dotted her face like constellations, concentrated on her cheeks, while birthmarks shaped like tiny stars adorned her skin elsewhere.

Tattoos of a fox, a snake, and a dragon decorated different parts of her body like she'd just strolled out of a mythical creature zoo.

And don't forget the tongue piercing.

Her outfit? A black turtleneck, black social pants, a doctor's coat - because professionalism, duh - and ankle-strap heels.

She looked like she'd just wandered in from a fashion runway, but with the attitude of someone who could not care less.

She glanced at her wrist, which held no watch.

"Oh, would you look at that," She said dryly. "My break just started." She dragged out each word, rolling her eyes with an exaggerated sigh. "It's your problem now."

Eschiabel blinked, his sharp gaze cutting through the air like a knife. "I'm literally knee-deep in-"

But she didn't let him finish.

She had already pulled a cigarette from somewhere and lit it with the precision of someone who was clearly done with today's nonsense.

Exhaling a cloud of smoke, she waved a hand lazily in the direction of a random Segment passing by. "Hey, crack a window, would ya?"

The Segment, equally done with today's absurdity, nodded silently and shuffled over to the nearest window, cracking it open without question.

Selene, satisfied with her handiwork, leaned back against the table, puffing a stream of smoke into the air. "Remind me again why we're even here? Pretty sure the Doc's got enough clones to fill a small army. Why are we needed?"

Eschiabel paused, tapping his pen against his chin. "Good question. Maybe he just likes us better."

Selene snorted. "Doubt it. He hasn't even noticed that you keep losing jewelry inside the dead patients."

"Pffft, that's their problem." He shrugged, giving a lazy smirk. "Besides, it gives them character. Little extra bling."

Selene rolled her eyes again, flicking ash onto the floor like it was the least of her concerns. "Yeah, sure. Until someone ends up with a whole damn ring collection in their spleen."

Eschiabel shot her a finger gun, his eyes glowing ominously. "Exactly."

"Truth be told... the Doctor does have a lot of himself running around here. But none of them can pull off these heels like I can." The male then added, after pausing for a little bit, that is.

"Yeah, that's definitely what the Doc was thinking when he hired you."

Eschiabel smirked at the silver-haired female's words, striking a pose, clipboard raised triumphantly. "Please. I'm the reason this lab has style."

Selene puffed on her cigarette, watching him with a flat, unimpressed gaze.

"Right. So, any chance you're going to do actual work today, or are you just going to monologue about your shoes?"

Eschiabel flipped his hair over his shoulder, the long locks cascading like a waterfall of midnight. "Darling, I'm always working. The question is whether anyone here can appreciate the artistry I bring to the table."

There was a long pause.

Selene raised an eyebrow. "You're literally standing over a strapped-down experiment. Pretty sure it's not here for an art lesson."

Eschiabel glanced at you, then back at her, clearly unbothered. "Well, someone has to make this place a little more interesting. You want me to start poking around without flair? What kind of doctor do you think I am?"

Selene sighed, checking her wrist again for a time that still didn't exist. "Just let me finish this cigarette before you start going full drama queen. You keep that up, and the next experiment might just be to see if you can talk a corpse back to life-"

Just then, the infamous trio - The Doctor, the Regrator being Akira, and thier one and only lovely Foxian, Kuya - made their grand entrance, causing Eschiabel's eyes to widen in what could only be described as a deep, internal groan.

He slapped the notes into Selene's arms so fast it nearly sent her cigarette flying.

"Yeah, nah, I'm not dealing with this freak show. Rather go deaf than hear what's about to come out of those mouths," He muttered under his breath before sashaying out like a catwalk model who'd just had enough of the circus.

He stormed past a blonde scientist without a second glance, but let's be real, he never gave anyone a second glance unless they were wearing something more outrageous than his shoe collection.

That scientist? Cecelia.

And boy, was she a sight.

Her blonde hair was chopped to just above her shoulders, curtain bangs framing her face like the world's most dramatic theater.

Like, ta-da, I just rolled out of bed, and yes, I'm still the main character.

One eye was green, the other hazel, because apparently, she was one of those who hadn't gotten the memo that matching eyes were for the weak.

Oh, and let's not forget the sun tattoo behind her left ear and the moon behind the right, like she couldn't decide whether she was a morning person or a night owl and went, "Screw it, I'll be both."

Up her spine, a chain tattoo snaked its way like a rebellious middle schooler's idea of edgy, and her piercings? She had enough studs and hoops in her ears to start a small jewelry business.

And don't forget that nose stud - it was like her nose was saying, "Yeah, I'm cute, but I'll stab you if you get too close."

Her outfit was the pièce de résistance: a doctor's coat, but make it mini-skirt length.

Because why bother with full coverage when you could mix professionalism with maximum leg exposure?

Cecelia glanced in the direction Eschiabel came from, squinting like she was trying to solve a mystery that didn't need solving.

"What did he see?" She muttered under her breath, already regretting even caring.

Then she caught sight of the incoming trio: The Doctor, with his typical creepy charming aura; Akira, looking like he'd just come from a meeting with God knows what magical debt collector; and Kuya, probably scheming his next move.

"Oh, nope. Nope. Nuh-uh. Not today," Cecelia hissed, her calm, happy expression faltering like a badly programmed robot.

She knew herself, and once the flip switched, there was no putting the lid back on.

Turning on her heel, Cecelia speed-walked - no, practically sprinted - toward the nearest exit like the building was on fire.

Her mind raced, 'Where's the closest vent? I'll hide there like the imposter I am.'

Her internal monologue reached critical levels of freak-out: Oh God, I can't deal with this today. Did I turn off the stove? Do I even have a stove? Focus, Cecelia, you have bigger problems!

But before she could fully make her escape, the unmistakable voice of the purple-haired male Foxian floated through the air, playful as ever. "Oh, Cece! Where are you off to in such a rush?"

She froze mid-step, her body betraying her as a shaky smile twitched at the corners of her mouth.

"Nope, nope, nope." She whispered it like a prayer, continuing her retreat, one absurdly fashionable heel clacking in front of the other.

As the two of the trio - That being Akira and Kuya - got closer, Cecelia imagined herself melting into the floor like a poorly made wax figure, blending into the background like she hadn't just bolted like a cat who heard a vacuum cleaner.

"Yeah, that's right. Outta sight, outta mind," She muttered, squeezing her eyes shut as if pretending she wasn't there would somehow make it true.

And with that, she finally retreated out of sight, her heart pounding like a drum solo performed by a hyperactive toddler on too much sugar.

But one thing was certain - Cecelia had learned her lesson: never, ever let curiosity get the better of you when the Asylum's most unhinged crew was involved.

The Doctor, who stayed behind, hummed to himself, glancing at the retreating figures - Eschiabel practically fleeing in his heels like he had a personal grudge against air, and Cecelia, who might as well have been auditioning for the next Olympic speed-walking team.

"Hmmm," The Doctor muttered with all the indifference of a cat watching someone try to open a can of tuna but not quite succeeding. "Anyway..."

He turned his attention back to Selene, who stood there, arms full of Eschiabel's scribbled nonsense, silently mouthing curses at the heavens for leaving her behind with this skittle-colored nonsense about to unfold once the other two come back.

Her cigarette was now a smoldering nub, and her aura screamed I'm done.

It was her break, for crying out loud!

She wasn't paid enough for this level of bullshittery.

Well, she was... But, meh.

The Doctor, however, clearly missed all the I-will-burn-this-place-down-with-my-bare-hands vibes emanating from her and strolled casually over to the sleeping figure on the table - you.

Still snoozing away like this was the world's best spa day.

He tilted his head, confusion knitting his brows together. "Shouldn't they... be awake by now?"

Selene, still fuming over Eschiabel's dramatic exit, blew a puff of smoke into the air and barely glanced up. "Yeah, I dunno, Doc. Maybe they're just lazy."

The Doctor blinked. "Lazy? Someone called me in for this while I was in my office," He said, enunciating each word like he was explaining calculus to a toddler. "I had paperwork, Selene. Paperwork."

"Sure, sure," Selene deadpanned, not even pretending to care.

She fumbled with Eschiabel's crumpled notes, flipping through the doodles of high heels and what suspiciously looked like a poorly-drawn unicorn.

"This one almost got themselves killed earlier," She continued as if she hadn't just ignored the last five minutes of conversation. "Lambda was standing over them this morning with a knife."

The Doctor froze, staring at her like she'd just told him a knock-knock joke that went way too dark.

"Oh, for the love of... " His voice rose a pitch. "Lambda again? Can't someone hide the knives from him? Just once?"

Selene shrugged like she hadn't just casually dropped that bombshell. "We tried, yet he found them anyway. You know how he is with knives. Loves cutting people open, real enthusiast of the craft."

"Of course, he did," The Doctor grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose like a parent who'd just discovered their kid shoved peanut butter into the DVD player.

"And Zeta?" The Doctor then asked, his patience thinning like old ice on a pond.

Selene scratched the back of her head, clearly enjoying watching him unravel. "Oh yeah, Zeta gave them something strong... like, strong-strong. Might've knocked them out for... I dunno, eternity?"

The Doctor's hand met his forehead in the most theatrical of facepalms. "So, basically... I'm here... for no reason?"

Selene, blowing yet another cloud of smoke, added with a lazy grin, "Sounds about right."

The Doctor's eye twitched again. "I GOT STUCK FOR AN HOUR IN THAT ELEVATOR, SELENE."

In the background, two of the Doctor's segments - Lambda and Zeta who just escaped the isolation chamber - were tiptoeing through the hallway, trying to sneak past with what appeared to be a suspiciously shiny knife and a jar labeled "Definitely Not Poison".

Zeta whispered, "You think he's gonna notice?"

Lambda, clutching the knife like a kid holding his favorite toy, glanced nervously toward the lab door. "Nah, we're in the clear. Just act natural."

Cue the world's most awkward attempt at "acting natural," which involved the two of them moonwalking past the doorway like they were performing in a disco revival no one asked for.

Back in the room, the Doctor's eye twitched so hard it looked like it was trying to break free and run off to start a new life.

He inhaled deeply, his shoulders rising and falling in the most theatrical attempt at staying calm, though the veins popping out on his forehead told a very different story.

He plastered on a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes - the kind of smile that made you wonder if the person was about to laugh or flip a table.

"Selene," He said through clenched teeth, his voice dangerously calm. "Get Zeta and Lambda to the isolation chamber."

Selene, who was now trying to light a cigarette that had already burned out ten minutes ago, barely blinked. "They're already in the isolation chamber, Doc."

The Doctor froze.

His eye twitched again.

His lips parted as if to say something, but all that came out was a breath that sounded like it was carrying the weight of seventeen lifetimes of bad decisions.

"So..." He paused, looking at the door, his eye giving one final twitch as if trying to signal an SOS. "They... escaped from the isolation chamber..."

"Yup," Selene confirmed, blowing invisible smoke because at this point, even her cigarette had given up on life. "Slipped right out. They're real slippery like that."

The Doctor stared at her, his soul slowly detaching from his body. "You're telling me I got stuck in an elevator for an hour, with the two gays, too... for nothing?"

Selene gave a half-hearted shrug, eyes glazed over like she had already checked out for the day. "Pretty much. I told you, Doc, it's the Asylum. Shit happens."

In the hallway, Lambda and Zeta, who apparently thought they were in the middle of an undercover mission, had managed to shrink themselves behind a potted plant.

Not hide behind it, but in it.

There was just enough room for their heads to poke out like two cartoon characters plotting some Looney Tunes-style escape.

Zeta, in full seriousness, whispered, "If we stay really, really still, we'll blend in."

Lambda, eyes wide with sheer panic, hissed, "We're in a potted plant, Zeta. A potted plant. Blending in is not what we're doing right now."

Zeta blinked as if this revelation hadn't occurred to him. "You've got a point."

The Doctor, ignoring the mayhem happening mere feet away, rubbed at his temples.

He could feel a migraine brewing behind his eyes, and for the first time in a very, very long time, he did something completely out of character.

He... whispered.

"I'm not going to yell... I've already yelled too much today." His voice was unnervingly soft, like the calm before a storm that sweeps up everything in its path. "But when I say 'get them to the isolation chamber,' I mean lock them in it, Selene. Lock them."

Selene finally, finally gave him a smirk, one that suggested she was absolutely not going to lock them in anything. "Yeah, good luck with that, Doc. They're already planning their next breakout as we speak."

As if on cue, a loud

- crash .ᐟ

echoed from the hallway.

Lambda and Zeta had apparently misjudged their hiding spot and had tipped the potted plant over.

Dirt spilled everywhere as they tried to untangle themselves from the roots.

Lambda scrambled to his feet, clutching his beloved knife, and bolted like someone had just set fire to his shoes.

Zeta followed suit, still cradling the jar labeled "Definitely Not Poison".

In the midst of this chaos, the Doctor's shoulders sagged, and he stared blankly ahead. "I'm going back to the office," He announced, his voice devoid of all hope. "Paperwork can't stab me. Paperwork doesn't need isolation chambers. Paperwork... doesn't escape."

Selene nodded sagely, flicking another cigarette butt into the distance. "Smart move, Doc. Real smart."

As the Doctor walked away, muttering to himself about elevators, knives, and paperwork, Zeta could be heard whispering from around the corner, "Do you think he saw us?"

Lambda, covered in dirt and still gripping his knife like it was a security blanket, replied, "Definitely. But, hey, at least we made it out of that chamber."

Back in the lab, Selene sighed, glancing at the sleeping figure still sprawled on the table.

"Lucky you," She muttered, eyeing the untouched cup of coffee beside her. "You get to sleep through all this."

Selene, clearly done with life, death, and everything in between, took a puff again and began her slow, I-need-a-break-or-I'm-burning-this-place-down exit.

Her shoes clicked lazily against the floor, and she didn't even look back, muttering under her breath about how Eschiabel was going to get a high heel in the eye when she saw him again.

As her figure disappeared around the corner, a soft creak echoed from the table, and then...

Your eyes blinked open.

Slowly, as if your eyelids had been weighed down by an entire decade of bad decisions, you squinted into the dim light.

Everything felt heavy, like your limbs were made of lead and your brain had been replaced by mashed potatoes. Your throat, dry as a desert in a heatwave, protested as you tried to speak.

But you managed.

Oh, you managed.

With a hoarse, raspy voice that sounded like it hadn't been used since the dawn of time, you croaked out the only words that made sense in this bizarre nightmare of an Asylum.

❝ What a bunch of... freaks... ❞

The words barely escaped your lips before your body gave up again, flopping back onto the table like a ragdoll that had been yeeted out of a five-story window.

. . . . . ╰──╮꒰ 🧪 ꒱ ╭──╯ . . . . .

AUTHOR'S NOTE .ᐟ

Hey, everyone!

So, this chapter was a bit rushed because I'm kind of in a hurry right now and running out of time faster than Zeta in a caffeine-fueled sprint.

It didn't turn out nearly as polished as I wanted it to be, but hey, we're all just trying our best here, right? Please bear with me.

Also, I couldn't squeeze all the [OC]s into one chapter because, let's be real, that would've turned this into a 10k-word novel... ehe.

So, I'm pacing myself and introducing a few each chapter.

So far, we've got [6/12] of them introduced, and there's also a fanon character thrown into the mix because why not (Thanks, Nichole!).

Anyway, just a heads-up: I won't be online much for a while, and I know I haven't replied to some messages (I see you, don't worry).

I'll explain everything in an announcement once I'm back and actually have a minute to breathe.

Thanks for your patience, and I'll catch up with y'all soon!

- - -

❝ CHARACTERS FEATURED .ᐟ

"Kuya" as - [- KUYA-]

"Akira" as - [T0TALLY_N0T_AKiRA]

"Eschiabel" as - [CaramelMoor]

"Selene" as - [KaylaRaissa1]

"Cecelia" as - [cici_crazyDoll]

And "You" as you!

- - -

❝ RELATED WORKS TO CHECK OUT .ᐟ

"𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐀 ¦¦ 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬" by [Littlemisswaterlily]

"𝐀𝐬𝐲𝐥𝐮𝐦ᴼᶜ" by [T0TALLY_N0T_AKiRA]

"𝐇𝐢𝐦 --- 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐬𝐲𝐥𝐮𝐦" by [-KUYA-]

To understand what really happened with the elevator accident (spoiler: it's a mess) and to get more info on, be sure to check out the first book!

Also, don't take the last part too seriously... A certain someone might get too offended.

Let's just pretend it was the Doctor who accidentally dropped some crazy stuff and chemicals he had on him, causing the weird smell.

- - -

❛ W O R D C O U N T:

ִ ࣪𖤐 5,063