Chapter Text
“Heeey,” Skylar greets you almost sheepishly the moment you put on the dateviators. Your bedroom looks that bit brighter through the tinted lenses of the glasses. “So, I know yesterday we had a pretty long tutorial, but there’s just one more thing I’d like you to meet before I let you loose into the world of meeting all your household objects.”
She smiles at you apologetically. “I promise it won’t take long, and trust me, both of us will need her help.”
You question why Skylar would need the help of another object. She is the dateviators you’re wearing after all.
“Well see, I don’t like to admit to my faults but…” she normally upbeat woman pauses in nervous embarrassment. “I’m just a prototype, and not even the person who made me fully understands how I work or what all of this is.”
You ask what she means by “all of this”.
“Oh, you know,” Skylar responds. “All these objects having lives and history hidden from humans for as long as humans have existed? How you’re even able to see and interact with them? I know the, let’s call it the technical know-how.”
Skylar waits for you to nod, to ensure you’re following the conversation before she continues. “See, the technology behind my creation and function is possible, but the nitty gritty details of what that means is not something I really have a handle on yet, I’m still a bit…wobbly on the specifics. But our new friend has offered to show us the ropes!”
She gestures to the stack of notebooks on your dresser. Just one small portion of the many notebooks in your collection that you’ve left scattered around your house over the years. Some were empty, others filled with your fanfiction drafts.
“Fae isn’t an object per say, she’s the…well I’ll let her introduce herself,” Skylar cuts herself off. “But she’ll show up just the same as any other object when you shoot my beams at any of the notebooks you have around the house. If you any questions about how I work, or about the how the world of inanimate objects works, you can ask her!”
With your curiosity piqued, you turn to the stack of notebooks in your bedroom and do as Skylar suggests.
The woman that greets you is not what you expected. You feel like you are out of your depth as you take in her appearance.
Dark orange hair tied up in a high ponytail via an old, blue scrunchie that looks to be doing its job admirably despite its fraying appearance, is the first thing that stands out to you thanks to her pale complexion. This is followed by almost glowing yellow eyes that shine even through the thick lenses of her glasses. It makes you think of wolves, or those spooky black cat decorations that seem to pop up in stores for Halloween every year.
She looks strange, not uncanny, but her appearance is too average somehow. Her roman nose, plain features, and the smattering of acne on her chin give the impression that she is just as ordinary as you.
But the glowing eyes, and the insectoid, fairy-like wings that move and twitch on her back, as alive as anything you’ve seen in nature documentaries despite them being made of old, folded up parchment, gives you the distinct impression that this woman is more than she appears to be.
To add to the clash of normalcy and otherworldliness, her fashion sense is a timeless, yet almost chaotic mix of clothes.
A dark blue tailcoat that calls to mind old leather-bound books that she wears over a modern, white cotton t-shirt. Her dress pants are a faded grey and dotted with smudges that look as if they were a pencil drawing subject to a poorly used eraser, and her rose-gold belt buckle looks more like an ancient rune than anything one would call a belt buckle.
The cherry on top of this bizarre mix of fashion and time periods are the well-worn pair of sneakers on her feet.
Her expression is friendly even as her ancient gaze observes you as much as you are observing her. She looks absolutely intrigued by you.
“Well look at that, you can really see me, huh?” she says, and you can’t quite tell if her accent is Australian, British, American, or Canadian at first. But the more she speaks, the more you note the almost subtle notes of an Australian accent. “That’s just brilliant that is.”
She grins at you, and it is then you notice that she is floating above the ground slightly as her wings carry her a bit closer to your location. “The name’s Fae, and I’m here to help!”
She holds out a hand and you give her a confused, yet polite handshake. Fae gives you a gentle, reassuring smile as she moves back to hover a more respectable distance away.
“So, you’ve got questions, and I have answers!” Fae begins to explain. “And first thing’s first... Sorry but I don’t have a “love ending” as you’d call it.”
You make your disappointment known quite clearly with an “Aw…” and then ask her why she doesn’t when you’re pretty sure every object in the house has the potential to fall in love with you.
“You don’t wanna romance me friend, really,” Fae replies. “I’m just…not compatible with the style of dating you have the chance to explore now that you have those fancy new specs.”
You ask what she means by that.
“Well, I’m different,” she explains awkwardly. “I don’t mesh well with modern dating…I believe the words that best express what I am are asexual and demiromantic.”
She fiddles her coat sleeve for a moment and stares at a point past your head. “See, I’m not really wired for the getting-to-know-you style of romance.” You can see she is trying her hardest to let you down gently but also explain herself as best she can. It’s as if she needs you to understand her. “I’m more of a friend-to-lovers type of girl—”
You hear Betty speak up from somewhere behind you. “That and we all you know someone else has your heart already, don’t we Fae?”
Fae looks annoyed at where you assume Betty is somewhere behind you. “This again? Jacques and I are friends, just friends.”
Dorian chimes in from the bedroom doorway. “You sure about that? I know you value friendship just as much as I do…but you’re also dense as a rock, mate. Even I can see you treat Jacques differently compared to the rest of us.”
“That…No,” Fae states sternly and looks at Dorian pointedly. “You know full well what my stance is on me ever getting into a relationship with anyone, let alone my friend.”
“I…yeah, sorry,” You turn around to see Dorian looks genuinely apologetic. “I just thought it might do you some good, to help you heal is all.”
“I’ll be fine, eventually,” Fae sighs and returns her full attention to you. “Ignore that, my job now, is to guide and protect you in this inanimate realm of ours.”
“It’s not actually her job,” Dorian states matter-of-factly. “As the manifestation of mankind’s creativity and storytelling, Fae’s job is to provide you humans with all the curiosity, imagination, and inspiration you need for creative endeavours.”
“Yes,” Fae concedes. “But also, my job here in the inanimate realm is to help maintain and manage the boundary between our realm and the human one along with being the font of inspiration for things as well as humans.”
You ask what the inanimate realm is and Fae lights up in excitement at the opportunity to explain.
Literally, you swear her eyes glow a bit brighter and glittery pink sparkles of ethereal light fall like shiny particles of dust from her wings.
“Some brief context, those of us you awaken with those glasses of yours are either the “spirit” or soul of an object, or the embodiment of a concept,” Fae explains. “The inanimate realm is the plane of reality we things and objects inhabit…think of it like another layer of reality you can only see and step into when you wear the dateviators.”
Fae begins to gesture animatedly as she continues to explain. “Haunted objects, items being possessed, or having a life of their own are the result of the lines between the human realm and the inanimate realm being blurred. Places where the spirit or embodiment of a thing can more directly impact their physical form in the human realm because the boundary between realms is thin.”
You nod, it makes sense as you remember reading up on Japanese myths of various demons that were once ordinary household objects after getting heavily invested in an anime some years ago, and along with more local myths of haunted dolls, you have a general idea of what Fae is talking about.
“Skylar, the dateviators, work by harmonizing with the wavelengths of anima, the general background soul stuff in the inanimate realm, acting as a bridge between both planes, which is how you can interact with us, and vice versa,” Fae says. “You’re not interacting with your objects as you know them to be in the human realm but instead are…talking with the soul that inhabits the object in question.”
You ask about concepts like Fae herself. Is she inhabiting the notebooks scattered around your house? Are other concepts similar to her in that regard?
“Good question!” she replies. “Since I’m the embodiment of humanity’s capacity for storytelling and creativity, The Muse if you will, I can inhabit any form of media used in the creative, storytelling process. However, since I’m not the only thing here that is creatively minded, and I don’t want to intrude on something else’s space… I picked the thing that was the closest to my nature as The Storyteller, that was also distinct enough to not have any overlap with anyone else…your notebooks!”
She pauses for a moment to gather her thoughts. “As for the other concepts, a few others are around here, and they all have unique methods of being summoned. I just…wanted to make things as convenient for you as possible since I offered to help Skylar get settled and guide you both along this journey.”
Fae looks at you with ancient eyes and you get the sense that she is far older than her appearance, a woman in her early thirties, suggests. “As a concept so heavily tied to the workings of both man and thing, I have a duty of care towards you whilst you are in the inanimate realm,” Fae’s expression is one of quiet resolve that has you wondering just what she has been through to result in her having such a strong desire to guide you in your new journey. “It is as much my duty to help you as it is to stoke the imaginations of people the world over.”
You find yourself contemplating the fact that there are the embodiments of other concepts around your house, and that Fae does genuinely want to help you with whatever reason Skylar was sent to you for.
Combined with the bombshell that you are, technically, the first human to set foot in an entirely new plane of reality, you begin to feel rather overwhelmed.
Fae seems to notice your predicament and kindly motions for you to leave. “I know it’s a lot to take in, why don’t you go for a walkabout and see the others here, you don’t need to worry about using up a charge when you talk with me so call me whenever you want to chat or have questions.”
Skylar pops in to stand beside you, she looks very confused. “Wait-wait-wait, what do you mean talking with you doesn’t use a charge. They’re Directly Acknowledging your Existence, of course that would use a charge.”
Fae grins. “Well, you recharge via transferring the ambient anima you absorb whilst in use, into a form of energy your physical form can process at night when in sleep mode.”
“I know that…” Skylar replies, though she still looks confused. “But, how does that translate into you being able to just refund my charge when the human talks with you?”
“Here in the inanimate realm, my power is a free as a bird,” Fae explains. “The impossible becomes possible, the absurd nothing more than another type of normal. It’s all a matter of perspective really. And if I decide to give you your charge back as thanks for letting me help you on this adventure, then that’s the choice I’ve made.”
You can see the gears seeing turning in Skylar’s head. “So, what you’re saying is you reject reality and substitute your own?”
“No, it’s more a delicate balancing act of spreading my influence whilst maintaining the status quo,” Fae replied thoughtfully. “I know most people would think a being of pure imagination would be chaotic, or childish, but you have to know the rules to properly bend them.”
Fae tries to shoo you away once more. “Go, explore! Have fun!”
As you bid Fae farewell, you ponder on what you learned today about the strange new world you’ve gained access to, as well as Fae herself.
There is something more to her, and though you have given up on your idea of trying to woo the goddess of creativity and stories, you find yourself wanting to learn more about her.
You also remember how Betty and Dorian mention a friend of Fae’s that she may have feelings for, as well whatever physical or emotional wound Fae needs to heal from.
You decide to make it your mission to help Fae find love and overcome whatever Tragic Backstory she seems to have. What better way to show your gratitude for her help, than to help her in return?
“I probably should’ve kept my mouth shut,” Dorian regretfully ponders when you speak with him at your bedroom door later that day. “…I’ve known Fae for a long time now, I just thought that maybe, all she needs is a little push in the right direction.”
You ask what he means by that. Your gossip senses are tingling.
“It’s not my story to tell, especially not after I mucked things up with her today,” Dorian replies. But his worry is plain as day on his face. “But…I’ve been worried about her for a long time now, and if she won’t listen to me then maybe…”
He trails off, thoughtful for a moment. He is quick to return his attention to you with a steely look of resolve.
“I can tell you more general knowledge about her, in the hopes you might be able to help her where I cannot,” Dorian states. “Fae is a bit of a romantic. She sees the joys and little wonders in the world and likes to share that with those around her.”
“But when it comes to personal connection and bonds with others, she struggles,” Dorian explained. “Her duty is a thankless affair most take for granted. Coupled with…the burden she carries, she’s been struggling to find a place for herself, and has been for a while now.”
Dorian looks ashamed. “I’ve seen her in love before, I knew the signs, thought she just needed a push…Bugger it, I hoped that if she wouldn’t confide in her friends or family, that maybe she’d share her burden with the bottle she’s developed feelings for…”
You point out that Fae might be in denial and Dorian nods in agreement.
“You’re right about that. I think this goes deeper than what I’ve already told you, but I’ve already said enough as is,” he looks at you critically, evaluating you. “Just…be there for her, she’s excited to show you around as the first human to step foot in our realm, treat her with the same courtesy and respect she gives you and you’ll do fine.”
You give him a thumbs up and say that you are in fact, excited to see what Fae has in store for you.
Skylar appears next to Dorian with an excited grin. “Oh! And don’t forget, she’s promised to help me too! We’re going to have so much fun I just know it!”
The embodiment of your dateviators grins mischievously. “And while Fae won’t be romantically inclined towards you…perhaps we can play matchmaker between her and her pirate friend?"
You match her playful grin with one of your own.
Dorian rolls his eyes at the both of you.
“Just try not to piss either of them off,” the doorman grumbles. “Trust me, you do not want to be the target of Fae’s ire...”
The look he gives you is haunting.
“Don’t anger her,” Dorian warns you once last time. “It isn’t easy to stoke the kind of rage Fae has, but if it happens…I don’t think even taking off those glasses would save you from her fury."
“Yikes…Duly noted.” Skylar comments with fear in her eyes.
When you hear Lyric inform you that he has never written a book before, despite being the spirit of literature your first thought is to wonder if he has asked Fae for help.
You voice your suggestion to Lyric, and he looks surprised.
“Oh, you’ve met Aunt Fae?” he asks, and you nod, putting aside your own surprise at Lyric being related to her for the time being. He looks embarrassed. “Truth be told I have considered asking for her help, but I didn’t want to bother her…”
You ask why, from what little you know about Fae, she seems like the type to help anyone who asks.
Lyric looks at you with reluctance. “…It’s hard to be explain but, Aunt Fae hasn’t been doing well for a while now. Her work leaves her so little free time as it is that I didn’t want her to over-exert herself to help me with something as silly as writing a book. So, while the idea has crossed my mind, I don’t want to her to strain herself when she already has so much on her plate.”
You find yourself confused and intrigued in equal measure. You ask what Lyric means.
“You could consider her condition akin to a chronic illness,” Lyric carefully explains. “A long-term situation with no cure, no remedy, but the symptoms can be managed to improve one’s quality of life…”
“That is, if one can manage the symptoms,” Lyric states and you see the depth of his concern shine through despite the almost clinical way he shares this new information. “Aunt Fae’s health declined and now stagnated over the course of the last century…But her duty waits for no one, and she works regardless of much it aggravates her condition.”
He looks guilty as he continues to explain. “I keep myself busy with reading and try not to think too much about it. Because there is nothing I can do to help, nothing important at any rate. So, it’s better to pretend that there’s nothing wrong than to tie myself up in knots over something I can’t do anything about.”
You say that is a horrible excuse. Every little bit helps after all.
Lyric looks ashamed at first, then thoughtful, and a tad melancholic as he thinks. He voices his thoughts quietly.
“…Uncle Quill once said that it wasn’t the finished product, nor the creative process itself that Aunt Fae drew strength from, but from whether the people she inspired and what they would go on to create improved people’s lives for the better,” Lyric explains. “Maybe if I did write a book, one that people loved, it could help?”
You agree with a broad grin and offer to help. You didn’t even know Fae was dealing with such a burden, but you do want to help her in any way you can.
And you can tell Lyric cares deeply about his aunt, he’s clearly been worried about her for some time.
You offer to help looks to have bolstered Lyric’s confidence.
“Well then! As Uncle Quill used to say, if something is to be done, then it has to be done right!” he says and there is a look of something you can’t quite place. Hope? Relief? You aren’t sure but you get the sense that Lyric is glad for your assistance. “Could you return to speak with me in a few days? We can start planning our novel then. I’ll need some time to gather writing supplies and do a little brainstorming of my own.”
You promise to do so and bid Lyric a fond farewell as he leaves to begin his preparations.