#justanotherhumanstuff

Unfortunately for him, there was no coffee in the mindscape kitchen. They had run out. Virgil had his head against the counter, desperately wishing to scream or cry. He could do neither without waking up his fellow sides, which he did not want to do.

Virgil heard footsteps descending the staircase. He didn’t bother looking up, caring too little about anything besides his lack of coffee.

He felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Are you alright, Virgil? You’re normally asleep at this time.”

It was Logan’s voice. Logan’s cold, monotonous, calming voice that was a bit deeper than usual because he had clearly just woken up and was very blatantly not the sound of coffee. Virgil groaned.

“You seem troubled.”

Virgil’s head snapped off the countertop. He glared at Logan dead in the eye and fumbled his hand around for the instant coffee.

“I’d kill for a coffee, literally,” growled Virgil. “Give me a gun and I’ll do it. But...”

He opened the canister and held it up to Logan.

“No fucking coffee.”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “That does seem concerning.”

“‘Seem concerning’? It doesn’t seem concerning, it will be the instrument of my demise!”

“Please do leave the dramatics to Roman.”

Virgil almost made an animalistic noise at him, but restrained himself so no one else would wake and scold him for his drama. He racked his brain for a solution to his current predicament.

An idea came to him. While the sides consumed a lot of coffee, the liquor cabinet didn’t get as much attention. He walked over to it and opened it, bringing out the vodka. He brought out a glass, not caring about the size, and started to fill it with vodka.

However, someone took the bottle of vodka away from him.

“Ah, no,” said Logan, taking the cap from the counter and putting it back on. “It’s six o’clock in the morning, you’re not having vodka.”

“It’s my only solution, L,” Virgil replied. He picked up his glass. “Hopefully this will be a good substitute.”

“Virgil!”

Logan snatched the glass out of his hand, some vodka sloshing onto the floor. Neither cared to pick it up.

“You’re supposed to be anxiety, can you please consider for one second what this could do to Thomas?” Logan said angrily.

Virgil rolled his eyes.

“I do not have the energy to deal with this at this time of morning,” muttered Logan under his breath.

“Then get us some fucking coffee,” suggested Virgil sarcastically.

“Only Roman has the ability to conjure coffee,” said Logan, looking a bit upset about that too.

Virgil shrugged. “Let’s wake him, them.”

“He’ll be so angry that he won’t conjure any for us out of spite.”

“Do you have a gun?” asked Virgil. “I will hold one to his head and threaten him for it.”

Logan shook his head. “No. We must find another solution to our predicament.”

“My predicament. The solution to which is vodka.”

“One, I want coffee too, so it is also my predicament. Two, no.”

Footsteps were heard descending the staircase again. Virgil and Logan turned to see Janus enter the kitchen. He looked at the two, then the empty coffee canister on the counter, then the vodka bottle beside Logan, and then the vodka glass in his hand.

“I think I’m the only one out of the three of us who got proper sleep last night,” stated Janus correctly. “It wouldn’t be a fantastic idea for you to both go back to bed.”

“I can’t sleep.” Virgil protested.

“I have to work this morning.”

Janus rolled his eyes. “Logan, I can tell Thomas that you needed to sleep. Virgil, Logan has great sleep techniques I’m sure he’d be happy to share. If I see either of you in here again for the next four hours, I won’t be very angry.”

The two complied with incomprehensible muttering. They trudged out of the living room and to the staircase.

“Goodnight,” said Janus, taking the glass of vodka from Logan’s hands.

He downed it in one gulp.

~