Chapter Text
Things kind of started… appearing in the mindscape.
No one thought anything of it at first, that’s to be expected when you live with the twins. They make random things and put them in the mindscape without telling anyone, and that’s that. Sometimes it’s something horrifying or disgusting (thanks, Remus) or unnecessarily extravagant (thanks, Roman).
But these things aren’t weird or fancy. They’re completely normal objects. The only thing is, no one remembers having put them there in the first place.
It starts with a mug.
Patton trudges down the stairs and into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. It’s still early, and when he glances out the window he sees the sun rising over the trees. He pulls out the makings for the morning coffee (and tea, because Janus is a classy bitch), fills the coffee maker with the grounds and water, and turns it on.
‘It sure was a long day yesterday…’ He thinks wearily, leaning against the counter by the coffee pot. Thomas had been in a weird mood, being oddly dismissive of things that usually bothered him or made him extremely anxious. He’d dropped and broken a glass in the kitchen while barefoot, and all he said was “whoops”, and just climbed over the counter to get around the glass so he could get the dustpan.
Now, Patton’s not complaining about the unexpected calmness. It’s upsetting to say the least when Thomas has panic attacks over what seems like such little things, say breaking a dish. It affects Virgil too, and he’ll be on edge for the rest of the day at least. But for Thomas to be thinking so clearly and productively after something that normally set him off was… well, it isn’t normal. Virgil didn’t panic when Thomas dropped the glass - which, coincidentally, is what ended up making him panic. Not panicking.
He’s startled from his thoughts by the beeping of the coffee machine, signaling that it’s done. He grabs his fix-ins from the fridge, then opens the cabinet to get his coffee mug - the teal one with little white and black paw prints on it.
He grabs his mug from the cabinet with a smile, and just as he’s about to close the door, he pauses and does a double-take. There’s a mug he doesn’t recognize in the cabinet. It’s pale pink, and has the word “whatever” in small grey lettering.
He stares at it for a moment, considering the unfamiliar dish, then shrugs. Thomas must have seen it somewhere in a store or online, and accidentally manifested it into the mindscape. That happens sometimes with movies he’s seen before, or books he’s read. It can probably happen with objects too, right?
Yeah. Probably.
He closes the cabinet and fixes his coffee. Better take advantage of the quiet before the others wake up and fill the mindscape with noise.
As the day goes on, Patton can’t help but think about that mug in the cabinet. It’s so silly, that something as small and unimportant as a mug he doesn’t recognize is bothering him this much. He’s been trying to focus on knitting himself a new scarf, when his thoughts keep going back to earlier that morning
He’s got half a mind to ask Roman if he knows anything about the mysterious mug - just to ease his mind - when he’s suddenly filled with an overwhelming feeling of indifference. Why is he getting himself so worked up over a stupid mug, anyway? It’s just a dish. It’s not that deep.
He breathes out a chuckle at the thought of having a panic stroke over a mug, and goes back to knitting, finally able to focus. He’s got a scarf to finish, anyway.
A flash of pink blurs through the kitchen.
The fridge is opened, a carton of orange juice grabbed by a hand adorned with obnoxiously bright hot pink nail polish.
The cabinet doors are opened, a mug pulled out.
A pink mug.
(But there’s really nothing to worry about. That’d be silly.)