Only Shooting Stars Break the Mold

[Wyll Wyldclay]

With a deep breath, Will approached Sam's room the morning after the night after the day of the cauldron. When they had left her last night, she was still at least somewhat Ogreized. And what kind of host would they be if they didn't check in? She would be fine. Probably. She was a shifter herself; she may well have shifted herself back to normal in her sleep. Yeah. No sweat, no consequences, and no harmful long-term effects.

They should be so lucky, right?

Plastering a smile on, they knocked on the door to her bedroom.

[Samantha McManus]

There's a groan of bedsprings and a grumble before the sound of plodding feet.

Then, a decidedly still large and brutish Sam opens the door.

"...yeah?"

[Wyll Wyldclay]

"Gooood morning," Will smiled. "I come bringing coffee and questions. I can see we're still looking positively...buxom this morn."

[Samantha McManus]

"Coffee's welcome, I slept like rubbish."

[Wyll Wyldclay]

Will held out the mug for Sam -- a dash of cream and a pinch of sugar, just to take a hint off the edge of the bitterness.

"No dreams of pillaging villages and grinding children's bones to make your bread, I hope?" they joked, with just a hint too much seriousness belaying the concern hidden behind it.

[Samantha McManus]

"You are aware of my more blood-drenched side, aye?" She asks before grasping the mug and taking a deep drink.

[Wyll Wyldclay]

"I am," Will nodded. "As you are now somewhat aware of mine, judging by the looks of your skeletal structure. I just...was rather hoping my chocolate wouldn't stick too long in your peanut butter."

[Samantha McManus]

"Look, I'm aware that I did a few things I shouldn't, there. Not a lot of options were presenting themselves."

"Or too many, depending on how you see it."

[Wyll Wyldclay]

"Oh, I didn't come here to criticize!" Will said holding their hands up. "I would have done the exact same thing in your position, I have zero problems with it whatsoever. Honestly, I'm a little surprised you didn't do it sooner, considering what a....hindrance I was being.

...She was being. We were being. Pronouns are tough," they added, running their hands through their hair abashedly.

"I just want to make sure you're alright. Because being stuck in a shape sucks, but being stuck with a template on top of you probably sucks even more. I'm checking in, is all."

[Samantha McManus]

"That's... weirdly considerate of you."

"No offense. You've just got a bit of a track record so far."

[Wyll Wyldclay]

Will cocked his head to the side for a moment, taking in that statement, and then grinned.

"Sam...it's me. You know me. Yes, we may have added a bit of debonair charm and overly dramatic flair to the mix when we melted in my Wyldclay side, but...it's still me. And I care about you. And I will, no matter how many strange phases I may go through."

[Samantha McManus]

"Sorry, I'm reacting to the face more than anything, since we had them... undiluted prior to the big plunge."

"Perhaps a knee-jerk, but I thought there was a callous smarm minimum for you to step out like that."

[Wyll Wyldclay]

"A certain level of callous smarm, or just a love of hairspray. Only my stylist knows for sure.

No, um, how to explain.

I'm him too. I'm both of me. And I usually will be, from this point forward. Oh, you can fix the sort of proportions if you actually pull one of me out of the cauldron, but when I'm just...out and about, as me, I'm both. Because both parts of me are, well, parts of me. And the versions of me that go out to be a mannequin or work at Kneadful are going to be more Stanton by volume, and the ones that deal with mystical, magical nonsense are going to be Wylder, but there's always going to be some of both in me, deep down to my core. So, yes, Wyll Wyldclay, at your service," he added, with a mock bow.


"And 'callous' is...not wrong, perhaps, but you met me in conflict. And the world of the fae can be a cold, combative place, especially for a foundling trying to fit in. I wouldn't call me callous, I'd call myself steeled, perhaps even unsympathetic, but not cruel for the sake of being cruel. I just play the game I'm dealt into, and I play it very well."