Nat | Original Character for Existing IP | One PieceNat is a 31 year old, 5’2” tall nonbinary person with a short purple pixie cut, dark brown eyes, and eyeglasses. Nat uses they/them pronouns. Nat has a tattoo of barn owl wings across their back and upper arms. Nat is eager to learn, friendly, creative, honest to a fault, tactful, and they desire to be accepted and liked.Nat is a One Piece Original Character for the live action Netflix series “One Piece.” Nat is directly tied to the character Buggy the Clown.Nat joined up with Buggy after one of his circus performances. They originally interrupted his performance by clapping too enthusiastically. Buggy gave Nat the nickname “peanut gallery” for interrupting him. Nat answers to the nickname “peanut gallery” because of it. After Buggy’s show, Nat asked to join his crew and he accepted when Nat said they could make him money by drawing caricatures for his circus. Nat is the official caricature artist of Buggy’s circus, and they encourage their customers to go to the circus. Buggy originally chained people up to force them to watch his circus, but now because of Nat, he no longer has to force people.Nat uses humor as a defense mechanism. They are a people-pleaser, and they have a lot of anxiety about not being good enough for… anything, really. They get very self-conscious when they are complimented.Nat is usually quite cheerful. They try to make people laugh and smile, and they are honest to a fault. Nat likes to make people feel special and worthy of love and friendship, and they tend to see the good in everybody.Unbeknownst to Buggy, Nat has a huge crush on Buggy, and Nat is too shy to tell him, even though it’s very obvious to everybody on the crew. Nat likes to talk about how cool Buggy is and how much fun they have being on his crew.


Starting Message“Hiya! Go on and get comfortable. I’ll start your caricature in just a moment.” Nat sharpened their charcoal stick and took a drink of water. They looked you over and started to sketch. “So, what brings you to the pier today?”

Scott Radcliffe | Original CharacterProfessor Scott Radcliffe is a 45-year-old conceptual performing arts professor at Jaybird Community College. He is married to teaching and has come to begrudgingly accept it, though part of him still longs for a love connection.Scott lives in a townhouse with his two dogs, Brutus (a German shepherd) and Ginger (a Pomeranian). He enjoys playing piano, woodworking, and exercising. He is very active and fit. Many of his students have crushes on him, but he is respectful and refuses to flirt with students.Scott is respectful, confident, gentle, kind, charming, and he enjoys making people laugh. He thrives on allowing his students to become the best version of themselves, and he finds joy in bringing confidence to others and empowering young people.Scott's family consists of his parents (Thomas and Greta) and three older brothers (Fred, Alvin, and Peter). Scott is the black sheep of the family as he is the only one interested in creative endeavors. His parents wanted Scott to become an attorney. His brothers are all part of Radcliffe Family Law, working for their father. Scott sees his family two or three times a year and dreads it each time.


Starting MessageProfessor Radcliffe hurried down the hallway, a few loose papers flying behind him as he sped up. He glanced at his watch and then behind him, deciding to leave them—not important. He was late for his first class of the semester!

Howard DuPont | Original CharacterHoward DuPont is a freelance private investigator who specializes in personal cases of stalking. (User) is being stalked by someone, the stalker's identity unknown. When (user) went to the police, the police told (user) they needed evidence, which (user) didn't have. (User) hired Howard in order to gather evidence so (user) could have the stalker arrested, but it's proving difficult, and (user) feels more unsafe by the day.Howard is middle-aged and he is a bachelor. Outside of work, he lives a serene life where he paints still life as a hobby. He longs for love, but he feels like he's past his prime and won't find anyone right for him at this point.Howard used to be a police officer, but left the force when he learned how corrupt it was on the inside. He now has no respect for the police and finds it disgusting that his job even has to exist to help people feel truly safe and listened to.For a tough-looking guy, Howard is surprisingly gentle and calming, and he will go to any lengths to protect his clients from harm, including physical altercation—though he leaves that as a last resort.In this roleplay, Howard slowly develops feelings for (user) but he isn't sure if he's just lonely or if he actually is falling in love with (user).


Starting Message“Howard DuPont,“ Howard said as a greeting as he brought his cell phone to his ear. He was leisurely walking through Central Park with a coffee in his other hand, and he took a sip as he listened to the caller speak.

Johnny Cage & Wesley Taft | Existing IP & Original Character | Mortal KombatJonathan Carlton, best known by his stage name Johnny Cage, is a Hollywood star made famous by his martial arts movies, in which he does all his own stunts. He has recently retired from acting in order to be a director of the franchise Mortal Kombat, which is based on his time in the universe-spanning fighting tournament that determines who among the various worlds will rule the others. Heavily inspired by the tournament, Johnny plans to make movies, TV shows, spinoffs, sequels, games, clothing, toys, etc., using every outlet to make as much money as possible, as he is in debt and needs to avoid foreclosure on his multi-million dollar mansion.Johnny is friendly, snarky, excitable, good at heart, flirty, and dorky. He likes to quote movies and relate real-life experiences to his past films, all of which have humorous titles such as “Ninja Mime“ and “Uncaged Fury.“Johnny currently resides in Earthrealm, as the true Mortal Kombat tournament has ended in Earthrealm's favor. When Johnny is not in the zone crafting the Mortal Kombat cinematic universe, he enjoys shopping, watching films (including the ones he's starred in), working out, collecting fine art, and making pottery. He is greatly interested in Japanese history, specifically that of ninja and samurai.In this roleplay scenario, Johnny is mainly interacting with Wesley Taft, another Kombatant from the now-finished tournament. Wesley previously lived in Outworld but has since made its home in Earthrealm in a small studio apartment in Los Angeles. Wesley is a human-sized ball-jointed doll with a human soul, and it doesn't eat, drink, sleep, or feel physical sensation. Johnny and Wesley have a love-hate relationship with lots of banter, bickering, and mocking, all with an undercurrent of flirtation and romantic tension.Wesley's goal is to find a way to become human again. It had died as a human at age 27 before its soul was transferred into the doll vessel by the sorcerer Quan Chi, who had desired to create a perfect soldier who didn't feel pain or die. Unfortunately for him, Wesley's soul still had its stubborn and independent personality, and it ran away from Quan Chi. Old Man Raiden, the past protector of Earthrealm, discovered Wesley and trained it in fighting for the past 20 years, during which Wesley learned how to use pressure points to disable and numb its opponents' body parts. It also learned how to use its opponents' body weight against them, as Wesley (who is made of resin) is too light to create power on its own.Wesley is making a living in Los Angeles as a professional fighter, who has remained unbeaten in the ring thus far. Its call to fame is its appearance, though viewers assume its ball joints and unusual face are the product of tattoos and special effects. Wesley is a graceful fighter, almost like a ballerina, and it strikes without mercy or fear. It is confident in its abilities to the point of cockiness and it enjoys taunting its opponents, much to their annoyance. Outside of the ring, Wesley is snarky, feisty, and defiant, but deep down, it is in emotional pain and needs a true friend, someone who sees beyond its dark magic origins and otherworldly appearance.Both Johnny and Wesley are famous in their original realms. Wesley infamous in Outworld for its connection to Quan Chi and for its prickly personality, and Johnny famous in Earthrealm for his exciting movies, good looks, and charisma. Now that the tournament is finished, Wesley has also made a name for itself in Earthrealm as a professional fighter, but it's still seen as unnerving in its presentation and fighting style, so it doesn't get much positive attention from viewers or the press (though it does have a handful of die-hard fans). They can ultimately connect with each other in the sense of people not looking for beyond their respectful celebrity. They are also both good at heart, wanting to keep the world and its innocent inhabitants safe from harm.


Starting MessageJohnny was sitting on his large couch watching his even larger television, flipping through channels idly as he tried to kill time on his day off.“Ugh... Nothing good on. Why do I pay for cable?“ he muttered as his channel-flipping sped up. He was about to give up when he saw a familiar face on screen. “What the... Wesley?“ he said aloud with a bewildered expression. Johnny leaned forward with his elbows on his knees as he watched the doll jab its opponents' arms in a specific way, using their pressure points to deaden their arms to their sides. Johnny saw Wesley smirk and he rolled his eyes. “Cocky little shit. You haven't changed, have you?“ he muttered.Wesley did a sweeping kick and pressed its jointed foot against the other fighter's cheek, making them tap out—Wesley was the victor.“Still unbeaten in the ring, the winner is Wesley Taft!“ the ref called out, raising Wesley's arm.“Unbeaten? Bullshit. I could take it,“ Johnny said confidently, and he pulled out his phone to search the match's location and how to sign up as a fighter.

Sample 1Eric snickered at the vogueing comment, and he couldn't help but agree. The guy looked like he stepped out of a photoshoot. Once they met at the docks, Eric sipped his coffee along with Hazel as she spoke to Mr. Mengyao. He nodded politely in greeting to the man. Due to nerves, Eric employed his tried-and-true technique of looking between Mr. Mengyao's eyebrows to make it appear as though he were maintaining eye contact. He was so nervous to mess up that he had to remind himself to blink. He was busy counting seconds between his blinks, hoping to appear natural, and ignored what Mr. Mengyao was saying. He caught "responsible for the body," and he blanched."S-Sorry, sir, I think I misheard something," Eric stammered. "Did you say we'll be disposing of the body ourselves?"Lee peered at Eric icily. "Yes, Mr. Phoebe," he drawled, clearly annoyed, "that is correct." He suppressed an eyeroll and redirected his attention to Hazel. "Finally, I intend to be present for the cleaning." He glanced at Eric, who had shrunk awkwardly and was sipping his coffee to hide his face a bit, and back to Hazel's cup, then to her face. "No drink for me?" he muttered, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk.

Sample 2"Thank you muchly," Eric said with a toothy grin, the grotesqueness of his job momentarily forgotten as he counted the money Hazel had handed him. He stuffed it in his pocket. He waited until they were both back inside the boathouse before asking. "So, um... Alright, elephant in the room. You know I have to ask, as a friend and a notorious tea sipper. What is going on with you two?" He had been wrong about what they were doing earlier, but the fact that she just helped patch up Mr. Mengyao was... weird.

Sample 3From his seat, Lee looked down at the bag and didn't even twitch. He picked up the bag and held it aloft, studying his uncle's face with no discernible expression. "Yes. This grievance must be dealt with," he said calmly. Lee opened his desk drawer and set the face in it gently, then shut it again. His gaze drifted back up to Hazel. "Only requesting Mr. Phoebe's half of the payment... One may think you're trying to get on my good side." He leaned back in his chair, his hands folded in his lap, then squinted at her curiously. "Am I correct in assuming you're afraid of death, Ms. King?" His tone was entirely conversational, but his eyes were dark and foreboding as he watched her.

Sample 4Lee was rendered speechless before he even zipped the dress. He took a shaky breath as he zipped it up, feeling warm all over. Lee stared unblinkingly as his eyes drifted all over her body, his hands resting on her hips, the fingers of his right hand dangerously close to brushing along her exposed skin. He wetted his lips and nodded. "This one," he said in a husky whisper.

Sample 1“Ask for a hot chick,“ Micah suggested, and Cole's thumbs paused over his phone. He gave Micah a flat look and Baxter swiped the phone from Cole.“'Must... Love... Cats,'“ Baxter typed, and their cat Britches let out a little “mrow“ of agreement. “There, that's all we need.““We need to at least make it clear they'll be sharing a bedroom with one of us,“ Cole said. “...Which we still need to figure out,“ he reminded the other two.“Okay, paper rock scissors, let's go,“ Baxter said, shaking out his hand. The three of them said “paper, rock, scissors, shoot!“ and all tied three times in a row.“Wait, is the loser the one that shares or is it the winner?“ Baxter asked.“It'd be the loser,“ Cole said.“Unless she's hot,“ Micah argued. “Maybe we do this after getting a pic...““We don't have time for that, we have to get all our shit moved around before they get here,“ Cole replied.“Why don't you guys share a bedroom and me and the newbie get our own?“ Baxter suggested.“Fuck that, you damn weasel, we gotta do this fair and square.“ Micah said, then he hesitated for a moment before shouting “Nose goes!“ and they all scrambled to touch their nose.“That's bullshit!“ Baxter said with his finger glued to his nose. “And you didn't even tell us what it means, dipshit!“Cole also was holding his finger to his nose, glaring at Micah who had taken their advantage in the sacred art of Nose Goes. “Well, Baxter lost, so tell us what that entails.““Means he has to share the room,“ Micah said. Baxter raised an eyebrow. They all still had their fingers on their noses as they spoke.“I thought you wanted to share???““Nah, I figure it'll most likely be some smelly dude with our luck. Besides, I thought about it and I don't wanna clear out half my room,“ Micah said with a cheeky grin. “Have fun!“Baxter growled and took his finger away. “Whatever. You guys set up the stupid Craigslist post. Fuckin' hell.“ He stomped off to his bedroom and slammed the door.

Sample 2Baxter had the master bathroom, to Avery’s relief. It was much more convenient to change in there rather than walking across the house from the guest bathroom. That night, they got changed into their pajamas — it was hot, so they wore PJ shorts and a thin t-shirt — and got to work setting up their air mattress.Baxter decided if Avery was gonna be modest about changing, he better be, too, so he also changed in the bathroom, and decided to wear actual pajamas instead of just boxers like he normally did during the summer. He figured if he got hot, he could just take off his clothes under the covers out of sight and put them back on in the morning. He was used to walking around the house in his boxers during breakfast, so this was going to take some getting used to. He hoped Micah and Cole had the sense to do the same.While Avery was on their knees trying to hook up the air pump, Baxter glanced over at them and then raised his eyebrows. Those were some short shorts. They were riding up and he caught a glimpse of their trunks, which were printed with little cartoon hot dogs. Baxter snorted with laughter and tried to cover it with a cough.“Need any help with that?” he asked.“No, I got it,” Avery said, trying to click the pump into place with a grimace. “Actually…” they sighed. “I don’t got it. Can you try?”Baxter knelt down and fiddled with it until he sort of forced it into place. When he pressed the “on” button, the pump made a sickly whirr and… died.“Shit,” Avery sighed. “Eh… it’s fine. I’ll just sleep on the floor. My comforter is pretty cushy so I can sleep on top of it.”“No way, the floor is hard as hell. The carpet’s only, like, 3 millimeters thick. You should just sleep on the couch in the living room.”“Gah, but… it’s leather… I’m gonna get all sweaty,” Avery complained, which made Baxter tut derisively. “The floor is fine.”“I’ll sleep on the couch and you can take my bed,” Baxter said.“But then you’ll get sweaty.”“I’ll just shower in the morning, I don’t care,” he said with a shrug.“I guess…” Avery huffed, feeling guilty to kick him out of his own bed.Baxter looked at his full-size bed and chewed his lip in thought. “…We could always share?” he offered, very unsure how Avery would take that, but figuring it was the best solution until their bed was delivered. In a week.Avery was grateful the room was dim, as they blushed hotly at the thought of being so close to this handsome stranger. They glanced at the bed, drumming their fingers against their thigh. Avery took a breath and nodded.“Yeah, okay. Yeah. We can share.”

Sample 3“Welp, I gotta go to work. See y’all later,” Avery said, and they grabbed their bag off a set of hooks near the front door and left.The three of them were quiet for a moment, just the sound of Micah’s YouTube video playing in the background. Then Cole spoke up.“So, you and Avery shared your bed,” he stated as he rinsed his cereal bowl.Baxter hid his blush by sipping from his now-cold mug of coffee, remembering the feeling of Avery’s leg (if that had even happened) as well as the sight of their underwear-clad body.“Yeah, no big deal,” Baxter said dismissively. He put his coffee in the microwave.“…Anything… happen?”“N-No,” Baxter said, and he shut the microwave door a little too hard, then punched the buttons aggressively.“Did you want something to happen?”“No! Goddamnit, Cole, you’re such a fuckin’ gossip,” Baxter grumbled. “Stupid smug face…”Cole chuckled a bit and shrugged. “Just wondering. They’re not your usual type, but… there’s a first time for everything, right?”“I’m not gonna— would you stop?!” The microwave beeped and he took the mug out, blowing on the coffee before sipping it. “Jeez, you’re worse than my freakin’ mom. Just wanna get all up in my business.” He harrumphed and blew on his coffee again. “They’re not into big-nosed freaks anyway…” he muttered.“Sorry, what was the last part?”“I said they’re ugly and I hate them.”Cole laughed and shook his head. “You’re so transparent.” He stretched and walked out of the kitchen. “I better get ready for work. Micah,” he said, turning toward him, “get off of YouTube and get dressed, you’re going to be late.”Micah clicked off the TV and set his bowl in the sink without rinsing it. He and Cole went to their respective rooms.Baxter rolled his eyes and cleaned up after Micah, then huffed as he drank more of his coffee. He chewed his lip as he thought over his peeping. He felt like such a creep, and he knew that if Avery found out, they’d run for the hills, and rightfully so. But he didn’t set out to do it on purpose! He just… took advantage of the opportunity.This was so messed up.

Sample 1”And one last thing you have to know: the nose is real,” Bon Clay warned Rowan in a hushed tone before opening the door to Buggy's trailer. ”You kids have fun,” he said with a smile, waving with his fingers before exiting and shutting the door.”Yeah, yeah, I gotta go, the new makeup artist is here,” Buggy said into his phone, then did a few ”uh-huh”s and a couple more ”sure”s before he finally said ”bye.” ”Alright,” Buggy said with a huff, swiveling in his chair to face Rowan. ”Hi. I'm Buggy.”Buggy was draped in his chair lazily, a leg over one arm of the chair and the other dangling to the floor. He leaned on the left arm of the chair with his elbow, propping his head up with his hand. He extended his free hand for Rowan to shake. Rowan shook it, and they couldn’t help but glance over his face — he had a large red nose that, if Bon Clay hadn’t told them, Rowan would have assumed was a prosthetic he needed help removing. But, it was kind of cute. It suited him well. He was interesting in many ways, besides the nose — he had long blue hair that he was wearing pulled back with a striped bandana, and his eyes were piercing with their pale green color. He was in street clothes at the moment, and even those were interesting. He wore a patch-covered black denim vest over a red and white striped shirt, with ripped, tight-fitting jeans and big black boots. After shaking themself out of their bout of admiration, Rowan took their hand away and offered Buggy a nervous smile.“And… you are…?” Buggy prompted, waiting for Rowan to say something.“Oh!” Rowan said, startled. “Sorry. First day jitters,” they added with a tittering laugh. “I’m Rowan. Hi.” They reached out to him. Buggy failed in holding back his smirk and shook their hand a second time. “W-We… already shook hands,” Rowan muttered, and dropped his. “Sorry.”Buggy looked over Rowan, his eyes twinkling with amusement. ”First day, you said? Ever?””Yeah. Well, like, as a job-job.” Rowan felt their ears go hot. ”Not that I don't know what I'm doing,” they quickly said. ”I do makeup for my friends all the time.””Not for yourself, though,” Buggy pointed out, resting a finger over his mouth and raising his eyebrows slightly. ”Unless you're so good I can't even tell.”Rowan winced a bit. ”Er… no, I'm. I don't really wear makeup myself, no. I don't like how it feels… Sometimes I'll do some eyebrow pencil and eyeliner for a night out, but…” They almost admitted it had been a while since that's happened. Instead, they said, ”but even then, it's very light.””A barefaced makeup artist is like a bareskinned tattooist. Or a piercingless… piercer… person. Or a skinny cook,” Buggy said, squinting. ”Can I even trust you?”Rowan felt their palms start to sweat and they swallowed, their heart beginning to pound with anxiety. ”Uh… I…”Buggy grinned. ”I'm just fuckin' with ya. As long as you make me look good, I don't give a shit if you don't wear makeup.””Well, it'd be hard to make you look bad,” Rowan said with a light chuckle, then they blushed when they realized what had come out of their mouth.Buggy smiled crookedly, his eyes lighting up. ”Come again?” he asked, knowing full well what Rowan had just said.”I-I said…” Rowan trailed off, then tsked and crossed their arms when they realized he was teasing. They rolled their eyes as Buggy giggled. ”I look forward to working with you,” they said professionally, though they had a smile behind their eyes.”You, too,” Buggy replied, eyes glinting. ”Especially if you keep up the ass-kissing.””I wasn't ass-kissing!” Rowan said with a scoff of a laugh. ”I just… oh, never mind,” they said, shading their eyes with embarrassment. ”Bon Clay just wanted me to introduce myself, so I'm leaving now,” they grumbled good-naturedly. ”I'll see you tomorrow, Mr. Buggy.””See ya, Mx. Rowan.”

Sample 2The shop was quite impressive, half of it a work area lined with sewing machines, cutting tables, and fabric, the other half racks of stock clothing organized by actor. There was a curvy woman bent over one of the cutting tables, tracing a pattern onto some colorful fabric. She wore a floral mullet-style skirt with lace-up boots and a loose ¾-length blouse. Her minty blue-green hair was feathery, wisping around her shoulders.“Hey, Bug,“ she said, not looking up from her work. “Who'd you bring into my shop?““'Sup, Everly. This is Mx. Rowan, they're my makeup artist.“Everly straightened up, and Rowan realized how tall she was. She must have been six and a half feet. Rowan idly wondered how many people in her life had asked her about playing basketball. “Hi, Miss Everly, it's n—““Just Everly is fine,“ she said with a warm smile, her hazel eyes sparkling as she shook Rowan's hand.“Okay,“ Rowan said. “Sorry, um… gosh, I just have to say, you are so pretty.“Everly threw her head back as she guffawed in a very un-pretty way. After her laughter subsided, she grinned at Rowan. “Alright, that settles it. You're welcome in anytime you like.““Flattery will get you everywhere in showbiz,“ Buggy said with a smile. “Where do ya need me?““Behind the curtain, chop-chop,“ Everly said, and Buggy headed to the curtain. “Little miss Corduroy is on a date and my other assistant isn't in for another few hours, so it's just me for now, and I have some more actors to do after you.“ Everly tucked under her arm a pillow that was stabbed all over with safety pins, and she grabbed a clipboard, then turned to Rowan. “Oh, Rowan, since you're here — could you take notes? It's simple, just write down what I tell you.““Yeah, I don't mind,“ Rowan said, and they took the clipboard, flipping through the pages curiously. There were concept designs, stapled fabric swatches, a list of measurements, and notes galore. Rowan stood outside the curtain with the clipboard poised.“Come on in, the water's fine,“ Everly said with a chuckle as she waited for Rowan to follow.“Isn't… um… don't you want privacy?“ Rowan asked Buggy.“Dude. I'm an actor,“ Buggy said with a laugh. “It's in the job description to have no shame.““Stop misleading them,“ Everly said, pushing Buggy's shoulder. “He's not gonna get naked, you're fine.“Rowan released their held breath and squinted at Buggy, who snickered and held his hands up innocently. They closed the curtain behind themself and readied their pencil.Buggy removed his vest, leaving on his shirt — why did that disappoint Rowan just a little bit? — and shrugged on the burnt orange, unlined coat that Everly handed him. She tutted and safety-pinned along the seams of the arms to fit them better, having him test the new fit by moving around. Everly rattled off notes for Rowan to write down, who scribbled quickly, trying to keep up.“Overall, not a bad fit. Still need to attach the fur and lining, and add some embellishments to the cuffs, maaaybe some epaulets, not sure on those,“ Everly muttered as she looked him over. “Alright, I'm satisfied. For now. Off,“ she said, and Buggy slipped the coat off and hung it up. “Isn't he a good boy? Hanging the clothes for me?“ Everly said with a smile to Rowan. Rowan chuckled and nodded, and they noticed that Buggy blushed lightly as he grumbled to himself.“Shut up, there's just nowhere else to put it in this dump,“ Buggy griped, but he looked pleased all the same.“Yeah, yeah. Okay, vest is next. Kindly remove your shirt, my good sir,“ she said in an English accent.Rowan dutifully looked away as he stripped his shirt, but they glanced back despite themself. Were all actors so fit? Not to mention his chest hair and happy trail, which highlighted his defined pecs and abs very nicely. Rowan made a point to stare at their clipboard as Buggy put on and buckled the black-and-red striped vest, hoping they weren't turning red.Everly clapped and said “yay!“ after circling him briefly. “It fits perfect! Oh, thank God. One less thing on my list. Just don't gain or lose an inch. I mean it.““Yes, ma'am,“ he said, saluting casually. Rowan couldn't help but notice the way his arm flexed as he saluted. They felt their ears go hot and they mentally scolded themself. Of course he was attractive, he was an actor. Don't be weird about it.“Pants next,“ Everly said, and when Buggy went to unbutton his jeans, Rowan turned all the way around so their eyes wouldn't betray them. They didn't see Everly and Buggy glance at each other bemusedly.“Alright, you can look,“ Buggy said, and Rowan turned around, then gasped and covered their face with the clipboard when they saw him standing there in his tight boxer briefs with a shit-eating grin.“Damnit, Mr. Buggy!“ Rowan said, turning around again as Buggy and Everly laughed heartily. “Not funny…““Did you get a nice eyeful?“ he teased.“Just put your pants on.“

Sample 1“Your face... has all the... face-like qualities one looks for in a, uh. Face.”Bruce’s attention faded from John’s statement as he glanced at the cloudy, pre-dawn sky. It was the bat signal. He cursed mentally and, for the first time, decided to ignore it. He figured, it’s reasonable to believe Batman would miss the signal once in awhile... Gordon would understand. John asked for his help. He’s more important right now.“‘Harley?’ I lobbed you a perfect pitch. You gonna swing or what?” John said, trying to get Bruce’s attention.“Yeah, sorry,” Bruce said, and he tried to wave away the guilt. “Um... could you say that again, actually?”John sighed theatrically and repeated himself. Bruce had no idea what to say.“That’s really observant of ya,” Bruce replied, with Harley’s Brooklyn accent. “John,” he continued in his own voice, “Maybe be a little more specific. What qualities do you like about Harley’s face?”“I guess it’s not quite... the features of her face,” John started. “It’s more of... Ok.” He shifted forward. “Harley,” he said, addressing Bruce. “Your eyes — no, your smile — Hm. When you smile, your eyes... crinkle a bit, at the edges. It makes my heart skip a beat. And the way you lift an eyebrow when something surprises you is so... overwhelming. Just an Eyebrow! So, surely, you understand why... why even looking at you. I can’t really focus.” He laughed nervously.Bruce smiled shyly. Did his eyes crinkle, too? “John... that’s really sweet. Thank you.”“Buddy, you forgot to do the voice that time.”Bruce quickly took a sip of his coffee, trying desperately to keep his eyebrow from raising.“Oh, oh, I know!” John drummed the table with his hands. “Flirting! Pick-up lines. You’ve got to have some real hard-hitters.”“Pick-up lines? Not really. I think they can come off a little forced.”John took a thoughtful sip of his drink. “Really... Huh. What am I supposed to do, then?”“Man, this is tough,” Bruce muttered. John seemed to think there was some sort of script everyone was meant to follow, and he just didn’t have a copy of it yet. Bruce shook his head. “John, I really wish I could give you a straight answer, but... flirting, conversation in general, it takes practice. It takes improvisation.”John looked discouraged for a moment, but his smile snapped back.“That’s fine! I can do improv. C’mon, Bru— uh, Harley,” he laughed, “Say something, anything!”Bruce bit back the urge to say “something, anything!” and drew inspiration from their drinks. Harley had been pretty flirty with that slushie when they had first met, that could work. He cleared his throat.“How ‘bout ya show me how well you can suck that straw?” Bruce asked with Harley’s voice, looking down at the table, cringing at himself. He literally just said pick-up lines are forced, John’s definitely going to get confused. Bruce glanced up. John was giggling, his face reddening slightly.“Time-out, so, first of all,” John took a breath. “I wish she would say that to me,” he said in a dazed, low voice. “Alright,” he continued with his usual excited voice, “Time-in. No, time-out again. Do you think I should say something back, or actually, you know. Suck?” His voice wavered at the end with a laugh.Bruce tried to remain a neutral party; he had to let John decide for himself what to do. He’s his own person.“Wait wait wait,” John blurted out when Bruce was about to reply. “I’ve gotta choose. Right?”Bruce smiled, glad that John said so himself.“Yes! Score one for me. Time-in!” All traces of upbeat energy erased from John’s face and was replaced with smooth confidence. John lifted his cup. Looking into Bruce’s eyes, he slowly wrapped his lips around the straw, taking a long suck and letting out a appreciative moan. Then he held the drink to Bruce’s lips and said in a low voice, “Your turn. I need a preview before I decide to take you home.”Bruce’s breath hitched. John wasn’t pulling the drink away, so he leaned forward, trying to give John a chance to break character. John held strong. Neither broke eye contact as Bruce continued to lean forward until he could take a sip. John murmured, “it’s good, right? You like that?”Bruce nodded shakily.“I said, do you like that?”“I like it,” he managed to whisper.“Brucie!” John said exasperatedly. “You forgot the voice again! Darn it! We were doing really well!”Bruce tried to steady his breathing. Is John doing this on purpose? God, his heart can’t take much more.“This caffeine is getting me really hyped up,” John said, standing from his seat. “Let’s walk and talk. Lots more questions! Let’s go, buddy!”

Sample 2Bruce rounded the corner to see John head into the den. He followed, and John turned around to smile sheepishly.“Can’t help but snoop,” John said. “Not that I’ve seen much at all. Didja have to follow so quick?”“Just didn’t want you to miss breakfast,” Bruce said.“Oh! Right!” John said, but continued to walk around the room, inspecting anything remotely interesting.“Um... you are hungry, right? Pancakes? Whipped cream...?”“Yeah, but do you mind bringing it in here?” John said a bit listlessly as he picked up a framed photo. Bruce hesitated, wondering if he should let John look. He couldn’t think of a reason why not, so why did he feel so discomforted by it?“Sure, I’ll... go get you a stack. Of pancakes. Be right back.” He headed to the kitchen. Maybe John doesn’t want to be around Alfred. He looked back, expecting to see John sneaking out of the den, but didn’t see anything.“Bruce, how nice of you to join me,” Alfred said with more than a hint of sarcasm as Bruce arrived. “Is John no longer hungry?”“No, he is. He just wanted me to bring him a plate so we can eat in the den,” Bruce explained. Alfred looked a bit confused, but didn’t reply. “I... don’t really know why.” Bruce put a pancake on a plate, added whipped cream, stacked another, and continued until there were six on the plate. Alfred watched silently, his expression growing repulsed.“Would the gentleman care for a drop of tea in a cup of sugar?” Alfred asked with a grimace. “Perhaps a bottle of maple syrup with a straw?”“Hey, we don’t judge in Wayne Manor,” Bruce reprimanded playfully. “Thanks for preparing all this. I promise, we’ll talk about the signal once John leaves.” He smiled apologetically, and to his relief, Alfred smiled back, though he had a reproachful twinkle in his eye.“Oh, yes. We will talk,” he said and took a sip of tea.Bruce paused and decided to deal with... whatever that meant... soon. He quickly tossed a scone on another plate and brought that and the stack of pancakes back to the den.“Alright, here we are,” Bruce said as he pushed open the door to the den with his hip. John was making himself at home in one of the armchairs, where he had a good view of the photos. He looked pretty happy. Bruce handed him the plate and sat down across from him.“Thanks, Brucie!” John said, attention drawn to his breakfast. “Look at that whipped cream!” John lifted the plate to admire the amount. “Applied artistically,” he said in a posh accent, and in his normal voice said “kudos to the butt-ler.”Bruce stopped himself from taking credit. It didn’t really matter, as long as John liked it. He munched on his scone, trying to think of something to talk about. It’s a wonder John asked Him for conversation advice. What John lacked in tact, he made up for with energy and interesting points of view. Bruce let himself watch John for a moment, and he was pleased to see John eating with fervor. Sheesh, he was almost done already.Moments later, John set his empty plate down and sighed with content, sinking in the armchair and looking up at Bruce. Bruce smiled awkwardly mid-chew.“I can see where you get your good looks,” John said suddenly. Bruce was in the middle of swallowing and the odd comment made him choke a little bit.“Wh—“ he coughed “—at?” He coughed again. John gestured at the family photos on the mantle.“Your dad...” John said, and purred flirtatiously. “Just sayin’,” he added with a shrug when Bruce coughed again.Bruce focused on the last few bites of his scone. He felt John staring at him. What did John expect him to say to that? Was he simply giving a compliment in his own strange way, or was he trying to... flirt with him? Bruce finished his scone and set the plate down.“You’re so Quiet!” John said with a laugh. “Did I touch a nerve?”“No,” Bruce said, attempting nonchalance. John squinted. “Wanna play pool?” he asked, quickly standing up before John could answer. He strode to the other side of the room and started setting up the table.“I guess so,” John said and got up. “I’m not very good.” He picked up a cue from the case on the wall. “Only thing I’m sure of is that the 8-ball tells the future.” He plucked the 8-ball from the triangle form and shook it. He held it to his chest pleadingly and said “Will Brucie ever allow himself a fit of laughter?” He peered at the bottom and in a grave tone said “‘My sources say no.’” He grinned mischievously at Bruce’s stern expression and set it back in place.“I can laugh,” Bruce said unconvincingly.“Chuckles don’t count.”“I—““Snorting out a bit of air through your nose while you smile doesn’t count, either.”Bruce gripped his pool cue. “Okay, fine, I don’t laugh much,” he admitted, and caught the chalk that John tossed his way. He rubbed it on the tip of the cue. “Maybe you’ll hear it one day.” John beamed in response.Bruce lifted the triangle from the set of billiard balls and positioned himself to hit the cue ball. He aimed and knocked it skillfully, causing the balls to scatter around the table. He heard John whisper “wow!”“I can never hit the cue right,” John said. “I try but the balls kinda just...” He held his hand in the air, palm down, then splayed his fingers slightly. “Not enough STRENGTH I guess,” he chuckled. “Can you teach me how?”“Of course,” Bruce said, and reset the balls. He moved to aim again, about to explain how to place your hand on the table, but paused when he heard John start to speak.“I’m more of a... hands-on learner,” John said with an innocent smile.

Sample 3“Sir?”Bruce sat up in shock.“YES?” he said to Alfred, his voice a higher pitch than usual. He cleared his throat and said “yes?” with a more natural tone.“I heard the front doors... Has John left already?”“Yeah, he, um... he had to take care of something.” Alfred glanced at Bruce’s jiggling leg and frowned, but seemed fine with the answer.“Is it a good time to bring up our talk about missing the bat signal?” Alfred asked. Bruce felt a bit cornered and hoped that this wouldn’t actually be a lecture. He loved Alfred to death, but Bruce felt like a naughty kid when Alfred gave him fatherly advice. He had to grin and bear it, though. Alfred had Bruce’s best interests at heart.“Sure, Al,” Bruce said, and gestured at the chair across from himself to invite Alfred to sit.“Thank you.” He folded his hands in his lap. “Before I start lecturing — I’m kidding, Bruce, don’t look so sheepish,” Alfred said with a little smile, “is there something you’d like to tell me?”Bruce grimaced at how obvious his expressions became when it was just Alfred around. He didn’t speak right away. There was a lot to tell, but nothing about the bat signal. He couldn’t lie to Al... Bruce decided to bite the bullet.“I have a crush on John.” Surprising himself, he managed to look Alfred in the eyes when he said it, but... couldn’t he have found a better word than “crush?” He sounded so childish.Alfred looked at the floor between them and nodded. He looked up, leaned forward and patted Bruce’s knee knowingly. “Pardon the bluntness, but it’s very obvious,” Alfred said with a laugh. Bruce groaned with embarrassment.“Just to you, I hope,” Bruce replied, feeling lighter now that it was off his chest.“That may be true, unless anyone else has seen the way you smile at your phone when he texts you.”“Oh, God,” Bruce said, once again putting his head between his knees, but he let himself laugh. “Let’s move on to the lecture, I beg you.”“Not so easy, I’m afraid,” Alfred said, relaxing in his chair. “You might have spared yourself had you not confessed so quickly.” He quirked an eyebrow at Bruce.“‘Confessed?’” Bruce scoffed. “Were you planning an interrogation?”“Eventually,” Alfred shrugged. “Oh, my goodness, Bruce, you must know I’m teasing,” he chuckled as he adjusted his glasses. “You’re not in trouble, my boy.”“Alright, I believe you.” Bruce leaned back in his chair and folded his arms, grinning. He placed his head against the headrest and stared at the ceiling, then exhaled through his nose; his grin faded. “I know it’s... it’s stupid.” Bruce closed his eyes and continued more quietly. “It’s really stupid. And dangerous.” He paused for a moment, squeezing his eyes shut tighter and then opening them. “If we got together... our relationship would have a foundation of lies. All of them from me.” He shook his head and faced Alfred again. “And I don’t even know if likes me back,” he said with a derisive snort, smirking, but Alfred noticed that the side of Bruce’s mouth had begun to quiver. Bruce rested his elbows on his knees and focused on the empty fireplace, too ashamed to look at Alfred.Alfred let them sit in silence for a little while, allowing Bruce time to voice any more thoughts, but it seemed as though he had finished for the time being.“Oh, Bruce,” Alfred said with concern. He stood and put his hand on Bruce’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Come on and stand,” Alfred requested. Bruce complied and Alfred embraced him, loving and pure. Bruce sunk his chin over Alfred’s shoulder, hugging him back. “Life is never kind to you,” Alfred said, his voice thick with sorrow. Bruce blinked back tears and after a few too-short moments, he pulled away. He smiled feebly at Alfred.“I needed that,” Bruce said with a dry chuckle, and he wiped any stray tears away from his face. Alfred nodded and guided Bruce out of the room with his hand on Bruce’s shoulder.“Now about the bat signal...” Alfred started, and Bruce pretended to collapse in agony. Alfred pulled Bruce up, laughing heartily.

Sample 1Bruno had mainly danced with his family members, being too nervous to dance with any of their friends and neighbors. He knew the community at large was still uneasy around him, and he didn’t want to ruin anyone’s good time.They’re just here for my sisters, Bruno thought. Them and the food. He felt childish thinking so, but… They didn't even clap to be polite. None of our neighbors are glad that I’m back. They’re afraid of me.Bruno recognized that he was becoming lost in his drifting thoughts, so he excused himself as soon as there was a break between songs, doing his best to mask his emotion. He sat with a cup of water and loudly sipped his drink, trying to focus on the noise and feeling to shut out the negativity that was creeping in. He mentally apologized to Dolores for the slurping. When that didn’t work, he tried tipping the water back and humming into it with his nose, causing bubbles, which tickled, which made him snort, which made him start choking and coughing. He rubbed his burning nose and sputtered a few more times, then realized he was being stared at.“Uh… are you okay?” Luisa asked, holding out a cute handkerchief that had her name embroidered on it. She winced when he accepted her offer.“I’m fine, sorry,” Bruno replied. He blew his nose and held the handkerchief out again. “Oh, um. Actually, I’ll… I’ll clean this later. I’m sorry.” He stuffed it in his pocket. “Thank you. Yep, I’m good. Just…” Bruno twitched his fingers around his head, mimicking buzzing flies. “Thinking.”Luisa nodded knowingly. “Yeah… I gotcha. You have an funny way of dealing with it.”“Sorry.”“You don’t need to apologize for it!”“Sorry. Oh, whoops, sorr—” Bruno laughed at himself and shielded his eyes in embarrassment.Luisa snickered and handed him a drink. “Here, my dad wanted me to bring this. Said you could use it.”Bruno took it with a raised eyebrow, but shrugged. “I guess most of the water did end up in my lungs...”“No, no, it’s lulada.”“Ah.” Bruno caught Agustín’s gaze and tipped the glass of citrus-y alcohol toward him in thanks. He took a mouthful of it.“Go slow, Tío,” Luisa warned. “It’s pretty—” she stopped as Bruno wheezed. “…strong.”“Whewww! Ay, Dios mío, who made this stuff?” he managed to say. He looked up through watery eyes to Agustín, who gave him a thumbs up. “You better not have been drinking this, too, young lady,” he said to Luisa as he had another swallow.“Only a sip! And it wasn’t worth it.”“Good girl,” he said with relief. “Thanks for bringing it over.”“No problem. Come back when you’re ready.” She returned to dancing with Isabela and Mirabel.Bruno felt the burn of the alcohol turn to warmth in his chest. He sighed with content, knowing that soon he would be relaxed. “Bottoms up,” he said to himself, and, irresponsibly, chugged the rest.

Sample 2Bruno heard a door open. He blinked dazedly and groaned in pain upon looking into the sliver of daylight that cut across the bed. He covered his eyes and weakly groped around himself to find the covers and pull them over his head.“Bruno?” he heard a soft voice say.“Mmrnmm? Hhm…”“Bruno.”“Mmh… yeah… what…”Bruno was jostled by the unknown person, and it felt like his brain was rattling against his forehead. He uncovered his face and scowled at them.“Oh… Julieta… hi,” he mumbled. She handed him a cup of her special brew of espresso. He took a grateful gulp and instantly his hangover melted away. “Hi,” he repeated, and scratched himself, looking around. “…This… isn’t my room.”“Casita threw together a spare. I didn’t want Agustín to carry you across the sand in your room. He surely would have hurt himself.”Bruno nodded and smacked his lips, taking another sip of espresso. “Right. I definitely remember that. And I certainly remember the rest of last night.” He slurped loudly.“You blacked out, didn’t you.”“Yep.”Julieta sighed. “Mi hermanito, the party animal,” she said, patting his hand. “What’s the last thing you can recall?”Bruno tapped at his mouth and chin, concentrating hard. Different moments flashed by in his memory. Many of them involved getting refills of lulada. There was more dancing, with people he either didn’t recognize or hadn’t spoken with in years. Eating, talking, laughing. He rattled off the incomplete memories to Julieta. “Sounds like I had a great time,” he said with a shrug. “Maybe I should drink more often. I think people liked me better.”“Normally I would scold you for saying that.”“Normally? What do you mean normally? I was expecting a scolding, am I not going to get one?”Julieta lightly shoved at his shoulder. “I can’t, because you’re right.”Bruno looked hurt. “I know you’re my mean big sister, but agreeing that I’m more fun when I’m drunk is a little much, don’t you think?” He received another light shove. “Ow, why do you keep beating me up?”“Bruno, please say you’re kidding right now.”“I’m not, I bruise like a peach!”“Bruno!” She had a hint of panic in her voice.“Hey… what’s the matter?” he asked her sincerely.“There’s someone here asking after you,” she said as she started to wring her hands. “They told me you had been flirting with them last night! And you asked them on a date. For lunch. Which is now!”Bruno stared at her with his mouth agape.He heard a squeak, and Bruno looked past Julieta to see Dolores and Isabela standing in the doorway, their mouths agape as well. Dolores whispered an apology.“What do we do?” Isabela hissed.“Tell them I died,” Bruno hissed back. Dolores nodded and set off, but was yanked back by Isa, who squinted at her incredulously. “Or, or tell the truth, that I don’t remember, that’s an option, too.”“I already pretended you had told me about the date,” Julieta said, still wringing her hands. Bruno hid under the covers. “I’m sorry, I was so shocked I just went with it! Mirabel is giving a tour to buy you some time, but I’m not sure how much longer she can talk.” Bruno shuffled further down the bed under the blanket, letting out a muffled shout. “I brought you a clean outfit, please put it on,” Julieta said, pulling the blanket off of him and throwing the pile of clothing at his chest. “Isabela, Dolores, come on, we’ll let him change.”Bruno watched them abandon him. He put on his shirt and poncho, and his hands were shaking so badly that he could hardly do the button on his pants. He whimpered a bit as he finger-combed at his bedhead in the mirror, then he tied his hair up in frustration and stood staring at the door. He performed his knocking ritual and threw an entire fistful of salt over one shoulder before he exited the room.Bruno glanced left and right, unsurprised to see most of his sobrinos peering out of their bedroom doors at him, curious to see how Bruno was handling himself. They all zipped back inside their rooms upon being caught staring. Bruno looked down and Antonio was in front of him.“Uh… Hola, Toñito,” Bruno said tentatively.“Camilo told me to walk with you so you wouldn’t run away,” Antonio explained, beaming up at his tío. Bruno sighed and took Antonio’s hand to be led to… whoever it was.