Look, Cardinal Aldo Bellini thought he had this well in hand.
(Pride goeth before the fall, damn it, yes he KNOWS okay????)
So he has a squad of young priests and nuns savvy in the ways of the internet, generally keeping an eye on Things.
Cardinal Bellini was just Not Prepared for the #lawrenitez becoming an Official Internet Thing.
("Eminence, the word you want is 'trending'," murmured one of his Internet Gremlins.
The oath Cardinal Bellini let out was just a hair shy of blasphemous. Bless me, Father for I have sinned...)
It did NOT help that a certain polyglot Dean ended up FINALLY picking up on Tagalog after spending a significant amount of time around His Holiness, the Vatican Pinoy Mafia and the entire Benitez clan.
And there was this conversation, helpfully caught on video, of one of Innocent's many great nieces and said polyglot Dean.
"Lolo Tomas?"
"Yes, little one?"
She looked at him thoughtfully, as if she was decades older than her actual age of four years.
"Love nio ba si Lolo Enteng?"
Cardinal Lawrence didn't miss a beat. In perfect Tagalog, he responded, "Siyempre naman. Mahal na mahal ko ang Lolo Enteng mo."
Okay so that video never made it on Twitter but Someone's gobsmacked (and CLEARLY KINIKILIG) expression did.
Also Dean Cardinal Lawrence: "I did say everything correctly, didn't I?"
Cardinal Bellini's penances were probably going to last him unti Purgatory at this point.
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So we now have a name for Vincent's great-niece, Erika's daughter.
It's Isabelle.
Since Mama is Ikay, our little babbu is Isay.
It was Vincent and Thomas who comforted young mama Ikay when she broke her heart and realized that the man who got her pregnant wasn't sticking around to be a dad for Isay.
There's a bit of K-drama worthy shenanigans that happened here, but that's a story for another day.
Suffice it to say that with "Papa Enteng" ("Ikay, pls lang, wag Lolo, ok?") and "Ninong Thomas" around, Isay would never lack for good male parental figures in her life.
Okay, so Vincent and Thomas became "Apa Teng" and "Nono Mas" respectively, for the lively, talkative toddler who was still learning her words but neither of her doting, adoring great-uncles minded.
Isay, growing up with several languages in her hearing and thoroughly used to getting read stories by her Ninong, would develop a distinctly British accent. This never fails to make her Papa Enteng chortle, especially when she manages to attempt more complex words in an uncanny mimicry of Ninong Thomas' plummy tones.
Isay is about four years old when she attempts to explain Whatever Is Happening between her dear Tio 'Fredo and Tito Aldo to her amused Papa Enteng.
At this point, her pronunciation is clearer.
"They're not really arguing, Papa. It's just how Tio Fredo d'monstrates affeksyun to Tito Aldo. And...um... Tito Aldo needs the n'richment."
Four year olds will tend to talk like this if they grow up around a very eloquent British-Italian canon lawyer. Who has Opinions about his brother cardinals. And tends to confide them to a tiny tot with big blue eyes and keen ears.
The Looks (with subtitles!) on her Italian uncles' faces was worth it. Ninong Thomas and Papa Enteng were very proud of their wee matchmaker.
This is my take on that Dreamling post making the rounds about Hob and Dream being uni professors and that Hob is surprisingly NOT the prof who overshares and Dream is the one who inadvertently does.
Buckle up, kids, let's have some fun with this. Also, gentle reminder: NOBODY TELL NEIL. SHHHH!
This time around, Hob's using his proper name, Robert Gadling, because it's been a while since he's trotted that one out and he kinda likes the seeming rightness that the once upon a time near-illiterate medieval peasant that he'd been was now teaching at a rather prestigious university. However, he's not prone to sharing much about his personal life to his students. He's still warm and friendly, but he's cautious about letting Certain Things slip.
Hilariously, the things that do slip end up making him everyone's favorite university cryptid. Sometimes Hob slips into Middle English when he's stressed or emotional. Sometimes he might use odd old-fashioned sounding oaths like "God's wounds," "Holy Jesu," and "Mother Mary's teats" (this last one sends everyone into spasms of laughter).
The literature department ADORES him because they can always drag Professor Gadling off to read Chaucer in its original form or even medieval French, his pronunciation perfect and dead on. Shakespeare is the only thing he'll flat out refuse to read because in any universe this Fuzzy Blue Alien's gonna write, his hatred of the Bard is the stuff of legend.
The students universally agree that Professor G is basically British Indiana Jones, because he's also known to have lethal expertise in medieval weapons. There's been more than a few fantasies inspired during the booked-solid outdoor demonstrations where he works in tandem with the other medieval history professors to show everyone how medieval weapons worked. Apparently, his favorite weapons are the longbow, the bastard sword and daggers.
Obviously, this all leads to Professor Gadling being the campus crush and his relationship status is a matter of hot speculation even if he's made it perfectly clear he was not about to violate his ethical standards or position as a teacher. It still doesn't stop the fevered fantasies of more than a few grad students, though. But that's all they're gonna get.
And then, there's the new literature teacher, Professor T. Murphy.
To everyone's disappointment, Professor Murphy is only going to be at the university for a limited series of lectures. Word of mouth spread fast, and his classes were now booked solid and he was going to be asked to return, once his apparently very busy schedule is cleared.
7. Of course, he's an instant campus crush, with the "Goth angel" looks, the Edward Cullen jokes are definitely flying and there's more than a few students melting after they heard him speak. "That Voice" is always referred to in capital letters and it's well deserved.
8. "Campus crush" turns to "Official Precious Blorbo" once the students all discover that behind the whole regal and imperious Goth Prince vibe that he gave off, was an adorkable darling wet cat who was just completely gone on "my beloved." If he's discussing a love sonnet or poem, there's definitely going to be a reference to "my beloved" or "my dearest" or "my love." It's never sickeningly cloying and the sweet tiny little smile that takes over his normally serious face is like sunshine. The kilig feels are real.
9. He's also forever worrying that he's not enough for "my dearest" as he's rather painfully aware "of my lack in human graces" - which everyone translates to "OMG HELP I HAVE THE SOCIAL SKILLS OF A SCRUNKLY WET CAT." He frets that he's somehow failing his beloved, who is infinitely sweet and thoughtful and caring and that Professor Murphy is the selfish one, really, who doesn't deserve the man.
10. The students, of course, immediately ADOPT him. Tesco ice cream runs are done, YouTube videos on cooking and invites to kitchens are extended so Professor Murphy could practice making something that is "not a catastrophic culinary disaster unfit for human consumption." There was a session on the language of flowers, which everyone had enjoyed. For a while, flowers with significant meanings were presented to sweethearts and lovers all over the uni. There's an unforgettable after-class meeting in which the craft-inclined students teach Professor Murphy how to knit and crochet and he was really rather proud of the scarf he had created.
11. Professor Murphy's raven had been rather entertained playing with the yarn scraps. The students learn that the raven's name is Matthew.
12. And then, dashing, mysterious Professor Gadling finally peeks into Professor Murphy's class.
"The things I do for you, myne owne hertis rote. Bloody Shaxberd."
"But you do read him so very well, my love." And there it was, that tiny, soft, sweet smile, now aimed in Professor Gadling's direction.
Professor Gadling sighs and puts a hand over his chest. There's a very familiar scarf draped over his neck. "God's wounds, dove, warn your poor, long-suffering husband before you do these things."
"What 'things,' dearest?"
Professor Gadling waves his arms helplessly. The scarf slips a little, offering a tantalizing view of a purplish mark on his throat. "That thing!" He looks appealingly at the students, who are now all stifling their delighted giggles. "Look at him! My heart can only take so much!"
And that was how everyone found out that Professors Gadling and Murphy were actually happily married.
Incidentally, the Shakespeare reading, in which both professors took part, was a true kilig apocalypse. Instant campus legend.
1. This really starts with Dream getting dragged into Calliope's classes to do poetry readings. It is next to impossible to say no to her these days and she knows it. Obviously, the incentive here is that he is, of course, inspired by thoughts of Hob especially when it's love poetry. Inevitably, everyone walks out of that room with a severe case of kilig meltdown afterwards.
2. Hob forgives him, of course, when it's Shakespeare. Also the Sonnet 29 Incident is still fresh in everyone's minds so it's not like Hob has a lot of ground to stand on right now. "Sodding Sonnet 29 gets me every sodding time."
3. Lucienne already knows to prepare for the inevitable arrival of flowers. The one who is happiest about this is Nuala, the newest addition to the Castle Staff, because as a member of the Fair Folk, she does love her blooms. She shares them with Snottor.
4. The Pinoy students are ENTIRELY responsible for coining the phrase "Kilig Apocalypse" and having this spread all over campus. The reason? Calliope convinced Dream AND Hob Gadling to do a reading from one of Kit Marlowe's plays. Who knew Professor G had such mad acting skills? "I was inspired by the greatest of all Muses," was the very wry response to that, with a pointed glance at Calliope who just laughed at them both.
5. Hob, of course, is always the gentleman and made sure she got flowers and a lovely tin of chocolate fudge cookies the following day. All of his students knew better than to ask about the nice tartan scarf that he kept on even while he was in the classroom. They all loved him, to be honest, and really didn't want to disrupt his obvious good mood. He was also pretty cute to look at, what with the near permanent blush.
6. So, of course, all of these shenanigans get around to the head of the Literature Department, who asks Calliope to bring Dream around for a meeting.
"Why am I not surprised to find you heading the Literature Department in this university?" was Dream's first wry reaction upon meeting her.
"Well met, my Lord Morpheus," purred the lady who was currently known in this century as Mary Godwin. "Since our dear Lady Calliope has spoken so glowingly about your good influence upon our students, we'd like to present a proposal to you."
"Present your case then."
Dream knows he doesn't really stand a chance here but he's going to have some fun with this before he gracefully gives in to the inevitable.
7. Look, we all know that Dream has a very soft spot indeed for storytellers and he isn't Prince of Stories for nothing. He's very fond of this storyteller in particular, especially since she'd been in and out of the Dreaming all her life. So this is how he gets convinced to hold a limited series of classes for the university's grad students about the power of stories and myths. Which is promptly overbooked.
8. The name Dream uses to conduct these classes is "Thomas Murphy" to avoid any confusion. What confusion? Well, because his paperwork actually reads: Thomas Morpheus Gadling.
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Lucienne saw this coming the moment she'd read the sequel to Rose's book.
It wasn't as if her Lord hadn't appeared in a few myths and legends before. Morpheus, the Mikado of All Night's Dreaming and the Sandman were part of the Great Stories, even though His Lordship had carefully ensured that his role was a minor one, brief mentions in dusty old scrolls and books, nursery rhymes for children. It wasn't unknown for him to be mistaken for some other god either, such as that prat Apollo, and he had never really cared greatly about such trivial matters.
(Lucienne had a long-standing grudge against the sun god, not that she would ever admit that out loud, but she still remembered comforting a shaking and crying Daphne. She had, in fact, taken great satisfaction in how she had thrown the sun go out of the Library, tail between his legs and ensuring that he was wounded in far more than his pride. Daphne was a very dear friend to her after all.)
But Rose Walker's story, of course, had brought His Lordship front and center, what with the way she had perfectly captured the mercurial and mysterious nature of his character in her first book. With such first-hand experience, Rose had shown the more dangerous aspect of the King of Dreams, which saddened Lucienne a little, as Rose had not a chance to see his capacity for kindness and the great heart that he'd kept so carefully hidden and guarded.
His Lordship, of course, had simply been very proud of the story Rose had written.
Lucienne, though, was far more happy to hear that His Lordship had apparently made amends with his niece and also frequently visited his nephew, much to Gault's astonishment, who had been continuing to care for the boy. Both children had shown an affinity for stories and storytelling, which partly explained matters. Still, Lucienne was not going to forget one memorable recent conversation she'd had with her Lord.
He had been dressed in attire far more casual than she had ever seen him - the black t-shirt with the bright yellow duck that had been gifted to him by Hob Gadling's students over a long-sleeved gray henley and comfortable jeans with the ever-present black boots.
"My Lord?!"
Morpheus had been unconcerned. "I am taking Rose Walker to the nearest Tesco's."
"May I ask why?"
"I am told that there is a human rule that ice cream and cookies are excellent solutions to certain problems."
"Translation: she's having major writer's block and feeling completely sorry for herself," Matthew cracked from his perch on Morpheus' shoulder.
Morpheus absently ran a gentle finger against Matthew's feathers. "Which will not do, so we shall endeavor to be of assistance."
Lucienne shook her head, still not quite over the sight of Morpheus in the duck t-shirt. She had heard about the whole "Duck of the Endless" business and it was a struggle to maintain her composure. "If it helps, m'lord, the sequel has already appeared in the Library and I will be reading it tonight."
"No spoilers!" Matthew squawked.
"Well, obviously."
That got her one of His Lordship's now increasingly-frequent tiny smiles. It was quite gratifying to learn that there were more people in Lord Morpheus' life who were capable of drawing out said smiles. "Indeed. But perhaps a little inspiration would not go amiss. She has quite a gift, after all and it is only right that we should nurture it."
"Boss, if you were any prouder of her, you'd burst," Matthew cackled.
"Hush, Matthew."
Lucienne had settled in to read Rose Walker's still-unwritten sequel - the perks of being the Librarian of the Dreaming. She had a mug of hot chocolate with marshmallows and a few snacks to go with it. Snottor and Fauntleroy had the running of the Library clearly in hand.
She read. In blissful peace and quiet, with some occasional sips of chocolate.
The character of King Somnio had developed quite a bit from its previous incarnation and Lucienne was rather pleased that this time, Rose's changed perspective of her uncle had a clear effect in her writing.
And then, with a curious mix of amusement and horror, she realized something.
King Somnio. Fair of face, dumb of ass, pure of heart, wet of cat - as Rose herself had eloquently put it in her book, from the perspective of its heroine.
Oh dear. His Lordship was going to develop quite the following after this. This was going to be even worse than his current stint teaching at the university.
