#snzoc

He could see it. The unsteadiness in their eyes, the soft gasp of breath; a sure sign of a storm to come. As Ariel tried to discreetly rub the itch away it took all Isadore had and more not to stare.

 The slow cant of their brows, the tic-tic-tic of flaring nostrils being unsuccessfully ground into submission; an itch that appeared to be almost all-encompassing.

“hhiih —! hiiihhH!” 

And then came the hitching. Initially slow and unremarkable, as the itch grew more powerful,  so too would Ariel’s gasps for air increase in their fervency and strength. The mage’s attention was effectively held captive by their nose, and Isadore couldn’t help but gaze longingly at their aggressively itchy companion while they were distracted. 

With each pull of breath, the curtains fluttered wildly and every gasp drew what few unsecured trinkets they still had progressively closer to an unimpressive fall to the floor.

He knew, distantly, that he should probably get Ariel out of the room before the inevitable, explosive climax arrived. 

“hhheh-! haaAAH! Isaaa-hHAAAHH?! Y-you nyheh! n-need to get out of hhhH-h-here!” they gasped.

But how could he? Isadore had always had a fascination with the extreme, and an itchy Ariel was the embodiment of a storm in human skin. 

Typically a gentle in personality, they were quite considerate and mild-mannered when their nose wasn’t overtaking them to make its various frustrations with the world heard. In the time they had been living together, Isadore had  effectively become their proxy for visits to the little town beneath the mountain. Largely, because he knew that on days when Ariel caught an itch, it was all they could do to try not to huff, puff and blow the whole village away. 

And speaking of huffing and puffing, as the urgency of the hitches began to increase, a mixture of excitement and dread pooled in the pit of Isadore’s stomach. Broken from his reverie, it suddenly dawned on him that the sneeze Ariel was gearing up for would be enormous. He briefly considered listening to their warning, evacuating the little cottage and praying on their lucky stars the building would survive with only minimal structural damage. However that course of action simply would not do; his pride as a knight would never allow it, regardless of the risk.

Gathering his courage, Isadore slipped behind his companion and grabbed a plain white handkerchief from his pockets. Then, praying he wouldn’t make Ariel erupt right then and there, he clamped the hand with the handkerchief over their nose, pinching firmly. Though his living partner did gasp in surprise, they didn’t sneeze; which was a minor success, in grand scheme of things. 

However, Isadore now had a very different problem. His hand now held Ariel’s nose in a vice-grip, and it did not seem pleased about that in the slightest. 

‘Now this is a predicament,’ Isadore thought.

‘I’ll be lucky if I can get them outside...’

While the hitching may have subsided slightly, Ariel’s nose still writhed and flared in a bid to break free from Isadore’s grasp. The enraged appendage made it clear to Isadore that his hand would not be able to stay the storm it had created for much longer. 

Crushing his building panic, Isadore scanned his surroundings and came to an unfortunate realization, his plan of getting Ariel outside would be a more difficult task than he anticipated. The floor was mired with tripping hazards from Ariel’s hitching spell. Moreover, it suddenly dawned on Isadore that the exterior doors to the little cottage generally required the use of both hands to unlock and open, and one of his hands was unfortunately occupied with a dangerous explosive. 

Losing hope, Isadore internally cursed himself for his captivation with Ariel’s build-up. He had always been thoroughly enraptured by the entire spectacle; quiet gasps of air that steadily grew into attention grabbing hitches. All eventually giving way to a sneeze that at their weakest could blow away a fully grown man. 

He had seen his dear friend send an entire market, stalls and all, flying purely by accident. Not to mention the results of the ‘Perfume Incident’ of yesteryear. Isadore learned that day that there were things that even dragons feared, and his hand was directly in its line of fire.

As Isadore took one final look around the cottage, his eyes landed on an opened window. He gave a silent prayer of thanks to the stars for his good fortune, placed his free hand on Ariel’s back and started to push them towards it.

“ W-whhH! What are you-?” they stammered with heady abandon. The storm was almost upon them, he'd have to hurry.

“Getting you to a window so you don’t blow the cottage to pieces with us inside!” He shouted to be heard over the cacophony of hitching. 

He couldn’t be sure if his words reached them. Getting Ariel into position, Isadore watched their head began to tilt, eyes drift shut and body tense. Isadore hurriedly released Ariel’s nose and took cover behind them, crouching to the floor, closing his eyes and covering his ears in anticipation.

All stood still for that brief moment, and then-

“hih! hieHHHH-!

HHHHHHHRRRRAASSSCHHIEEWWWW!!”

The ground shook with the power and volume of Ariel’s release. A shudder of exhilaration shot up Isadore’s spine. Dizzy and half-deaf, he hadn’t heard the slam of Ariel’s palms against the windowsill or much of anything else on account of the roar of a sneeze that had shaken the cottage, but as Isadore opened his eyes to take a peek at the resulting chaos, the sight that greeted him left him astonished. 

The floor of the cottage was now littered with shattered glass from the other windows as the empty shutters they came from rocked too and fro, paneless. To say nothing of the window Ariel stood before! The casement and shutters to that window were gone, likely blown to smithereens or having taken flight to escape the sudden gale.

They were slumped over, gripping what remained of the windowsill for support, panting from the exertion. 

Isadore stood slowly. 

“Hey, Ari? You alright?” He asked, concern evident in his tone, “You haven’t hurt anything, have you?”

He was met with no reply, aside from the continued sound of Ariel’s panting. He approached them slowly, worried they may have knocked the wind out of themself and placed a hand on their shoulder. Ariel’s posture began to straighten as their panting became deeper, and deeper.

 It was then that Isadore realized that Ariel had not exhausted themself, but rather, was gearing up for a repeat performance.

“hih! hiiIIIHHh! HHEEEHHh? HHHIEHHHhh-!” 

Every instinct in Isadore’s body screamed at him to run, but his legs would not budge. His knees were filled with sudden weakness as his imagination began to run wild. After all, now that he could take a better look he could now see the casement and shutters weren’t the only things that Ariel had blown away. A few overgrown pine trees that grew close to that window had been stripped bare of their needles and ripped out of the ground, roots and all. And now Ariel was preparing a monster of an encore.

He could visualize the wave of destruction once their dear companion let go, would there even be any indication the remaining trees had ever grown here?

“HEEHHH! HhHEEEHHHH-! hHhHHHEEEHHHHHH!”

In his mind’s eye, he could see the entire picture. Isadore could visualize Ariel’s chest fill with air as they frantically hitched towards a destructive finale. He felt his face flush as he envisioned their lovely face, crumpling around the need to rid themself of that blasted itch. 

————

“HEHHHHH-!

HHHHHEEEESSSCCCHIEEEWWW!”

Ariel threw themself forward again, erupting with such force that absolutely nothing could have hoped to stop them. The outside world was a bluster of pine needles suspended in dust clouds, floating helplessly towards the forest floor.  As they opened their eyes, the sight of the clouds of dust, the smell of the pine, the feel of Isadore’s comforting hand all served to make the itch deepen even further.

They felt out of control. Here they were, putting their housemate in danger over what, an itchy nose?

They needed to stop before things got out of hand. But itch had them in such a chokehold, it buzzed and stabbed the inner workings of their nose like an angry bee. And the more they thought about it, the more it itched. Ariel fought the urge, if they couldn’t reign themself in who knew what the storm roiling inside would do. 

“hahhh-! HaAAHh—! HHAAAHHh—!”

Ariel cursed themself, no matter what they needed to get a handle on themself or they would risk blasting the rest of the forest to heavens above. All those herbs, and flowers and trees…

“HAAaaHh! HeeEeEEHh-! HAAAAAHHHHHHH—!”

They were going to explode. They were about to sneeze with such force it would put all the storms sailors faced to shame.

They wanted to warn Isadore. To tell him to get down or to grab something sturdy at the very least. As Ariel’s breath hitched towards the forest’s doom, they felt Isadore wrap his arms around their waist. Their face warmed, and their breath caught for a wholly different reason. The sensation was enough to drive them over the edge entirely,

“HAHH-HHHAHHH---!

EEEHHHDTISSCCHHHHIEEEWW!!!”

Ariel erupted yet again. Had it not been for Isadore’s arms supporting them, they may have very well flung themself out the window. They sniffed, testing the waters. Displeased to find the itch still there, Ariel could only sigh in disatisfaction. It had subsided to a point where it would not bring them to sneeze again, for the moment.

“Blessings, health and good fortune…Is it over?” Isadore ventured timidly, his arms firmly secured around Ariel’s waist.

“For the time being, yes. Thank you” Ariel chuckled. They sniffed and brought a hand up to rub at their nose with mild irritation,

“There’s still a bit of a tickle there, the stubborn thing! I might have to give the next one my all if I want to go about the rest of the day in peace!”

Isadore blanched, “That last one wasn’t you giving it your all?!” 

“snff-! No, it wasn’t…” Ariel sniffled. Isadore unwrapped his arms from their waist. 

Isadore couldn’t help but turn to look through the demolished window. To say nothing of the missing frame and shutters. Past that, where there had once been a stretch of overgrown pine trees that created a thick and unnavigable forest a few miles or so east of the little cottage, there was now a gradient of barren earth, broken stumps and trees the mage’s eruptions hadn’t reached. 

“Even so, that was an impressive thing to witness,” Isadore reproduced his handkerchief with a flourish and handed it to his companion, to which Ariel accepted the article readily and promptly blew their nose with a viciousness that had become all too common.

“I wonder what caused it? You haven’t caught a chill have you, or is it something in the air —?” Isadore asked.

“Let’s not discuss that now, Isadore,” Ariel interjected, “It might tip me over the edge aahhH-again!”

There was a muzziness about their words which made Isadore question if Ariel would lose control of themself for the fourth time that day, and whether the surrounding area would be able to survive yet another eruption.

Ariel’s nose twitched violently, almost as though it knew it were the center of the current conversation. Its owner began to rub at it through the folds of Isadore’s handkerchief, but it seemed it simply would not be satisfied. Ariel pocketed the handkerchief and sighed in frustration before stepping out of the room, leaving Isadore with thoughts of what their nose would do.

He almost wanted to tempt fate.

Isadore became momentarily consumed by the thought of their dear companion panting and gasping, gearing up for the ultimate release. Their lovely face contorting into a sneezy grimace, nose twitching and flaring with the need, utterly insatiable until its demands to blow away everything in sight were met. 

Would he be able to deny them that release they so desperately craved, would he be able to stay the storm with naught but his  hands and handkerchief? Could a mere mortal even hope to place restraints on something so potently powerful? 

How would it feel to be caught in the crossfire of a big release? 

The ‘Perfume Incident’, was Isadore’s first experience with Ariel’s storm of a sneeze, and one he would never forget. To bear witness to a fellow knight being blown clear across a room; to learn that Ariel had held back for fear of hurting his peer, it almost made Isadore envious.

He could feel his thoughts warm him. Isadore imagined Ariel hitching up a storm, on the cusp a truly devastating sneeze. He would be there to tend to them and their nose, to try his hardest to rub away the itch, if not stay the urge entirely. Their nose would grow ever impatient with his efforts, twitching and flaring in its dissatisfaction. He would inevitably make some fatal error, and Ariel’s nares would tremble with need  so desperate there would be nothing Isadore could do to stop the oncoming blast.

Like a condemned man before a cannon, all he’d be able to do is look on as Ariel’s final gasps for air would become deafening. He would watch as their head tilted back, silvery eyelashes fluttered shut, their nose held high and trembling, on the cusp a massive sneeze begging to be freed. Then they would erupt with a cataclysmic release, powerful enough to shake mountains. He would be blown away in an instant, flung across forest and moor alike. How far would he fly?

Isadore’s attention was shaken from his lurid thoughts as he felt Ariel’s worn hands gently touch his face. They looked a bit concerned, he wondered what was wrong.

“Oh my,” they gasped. A muzziness borne of the itch tinged the edge of their words.

“Oh Isa, your face is all red, and you’ve become so warm, what's wrong?”

Ariel sniffed, did it sound a bit wetter than it had before? He was unsure.

Isadore looked around and noticed the windows had all been fixed and were now closed. Books and trinkets were now neatly placed in their requisite spaces. All that had been pulled out of place or thrown about in the flurry appeared to have been returned to their rightful spot. Had they cast a spell to fix the damages while Isadore was lost in fantasy? 

“It must be the draft that came in, but i-ihht!it shouldn’t have caused you to overheat, and so quickly too!!” Ariel continued to fret. Isadore had caught the hitch in their breath. Was this about to be it? The one big enough to satisfy their nose?

“Don’t worry, Ariel, I— uh...” Isadore said, pausing as he searched for a plausible reason to be as red as he was.

“I was just a bit embarrassed about the way I grabbed you when you were about to sneeze. It wasn’t very gentleman-ly of me.”  Now genuinely embarrassed as he recalled the event, Isadore scratched the back of his head.

“I’m truly sorry, both for my conduct and for worrying you.”

The mage laughed at him gently. 

“It’s no trouble! Actually, having the physical reminder that you were there made me feel more comfortable letting loose,” They told Isadore, “ Knowing you whH—! were s-safe—!”

Ariel turned away and began to blow their nose again. The sound that issued from them was as violent as it was loud. Fascinated as Isadore was with the machinations of Ariel’s nose, he knew that this was only the prelude to a devastating future sneeze. 

Isadore watched in secret delight as Ariel tended to their nose. He could see that the sensitive appendage had begun to take on a reddish hue near the base of Ariel’s nostrils and recognized that Ariel must have been scrubbing at their nose more often than he thought for the red to be visible on their tawny skin.

They sniffed and blinked muzzily before continuing their attempt to speak.

“snf! M’sorry Isa, not quite sure what’s gotten into me…” Ariel apologized. 

“It’s no bother to me, I promise! I’m just sorry you aren’t feeling well.” Isadore said. 

He watched as Ariel continued scrubbing at their nose. Feeling rather bold, Isadore took hold of their wrist, stopping them from rubbing at the itch further.

“Scouring at your nose like that'll only making it red, let’s try to— Ariel?” Isadore interrupted himself. He could see all of their telltale storm warnings coalesce into one disastrously sneezy expression. He stood paralyzed with fear and arousal. He was about to experience what his colleague had all those months ago. Would Isadore be blown through a wall? Would he find himself flying across the mountain range? He saw Ariel’s chest fill to bursting in an instant, and braced for impact.

“HHHAAAAAAAAAAADTSSSSSSCCHIIIEEEWWW!!!”

Isadore felt the air rush past him, almost blowing him away as it lifted him off the floor. He was surprised that keeping hold of Ariel’s hand had kept him from being sent flying, doubly so as he heard the crash of furniture against the wall. As the gale Ariel produced had stopped, Isadore slumped to the floor . The room was a disaster; table and chairs alike had been thrown though the wall on the gale, the heath had blown out and its ash scattered about, the windows blasted open yet again, and the little cottage groaned, nearing its limit.

Isadore stood shakily in amazement, before considering that it could have been him thrown into the wall— or through it— by Ariel’s sneeze. The idea thrilled him more than anything. He turned to face his companion, a blessing on his lips but stopped and took in the sight before him. 

Isadore could see Ariel’s chest swelling with air for another sneeze. He saw their nose, flexing and flaring with the itch it had yet to blast out. He saw their head rear back as their hitching pulled them to their full intimidating height. They were on the cusp of blowing away anything unfortunate or foolish enough to still be standing in their path, and Isadore could identify as that unfortunate fool. 

As he prayed on his luck to see him through the storm, he felt Ariel grab him and pull him close.

“IIIIIIIIIIIHHHHHHHHHTTTTISSSCHIIIEEEEEWWWW!!!”

Isadore felt them launch forward, forced into a rather inelegant dip. He'd have been bowled over from the force if they hadn’t been holding on to him. The sheer power of Ariel’s release had caused a whirlwind to whip around the tiny cottage, knocking over small and large objects alike. Isadore watched in amazement as the heavy oaken couch flipped over and flew into the hall. The storm of a sneeze had been released over his shoulder, shocking Isadore into partial deafness. 

Isadore was unsure what he’d see if he turned around, but the damage from merely the backdraft of Ariel’s expulsion left him with little faith that the damage would be minimal.

Isadore felt Ariel’s chest begin its staccato rise once more. He felt Ariel pull him even closer, bringing his face into their rapidly inflating chest. Isadore flushed violently, half-deaf and delirious from excitement. He dared to look up, and faced an almost majestic sight. There Ariel stood, head reared back, nose all but trembling as it took in more and more air. The cottage itself seemed to quake with fear, as debris from the upper floor began to rain down around them. 

Isadore found himself sinking further into his dear, disastrously sneezy friend’s chest as they held him ever tighter. He felt Ariel place a hand on his head, perhaps with the intention of keeping him safe from the falling debris as Ariel looked like they were about to bring the entire cottage down in a disastrous finale as they swelled to their zenith. 

“HaaaAaAAAH—! HhAAAAHHHH!! 

HAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!! AAAAAAADZTTTJJIIIIIISSSCCCHHOOOOOOOOO!!!”

In a frankly astonishing show of power from Ariel’s nose, the resulting eruption brought their home down around them. The cottage crumbled, unable to endure the onslaught any longer. Miraculously nothing had fallen on the pair, though they had been caked in the dust of the ages.

Isadore, overcome with awe, looked up at his companion who still gasped with need for more. Ariel by now looked incredibly bleary as they continued to pant with desire to unleash the gathering storm within them. Their nose had by now taken a ruby cast to it, visible even through the layer of dust that had settled on their skin. Though Ariel held Isadore close to keep him from facing the threat of their disobedient nose,they couldn’t help but wonder what he thought of the situation. 

Ariel briefly considered that the knight might consider them a threat to the peace, not unlike the dragon he and his company encountered the previous year. As they grew more and more sneezy, they pondered what had possessed them with such an aggressive itch. They could only land on one true answer.

“ O-heh! Oh n-no, i- ihh—! its-iehhH—-! EHHHH—! HhEEEEEHHHHH! HIEEEEEEEEEEHHHHHHH!!

EHHHHHHHHTTTZSSSIIIIIIIIIIIIISSSSSCCCHHHIIIIUUUUUUUUHHHH!!!”

Isadore felt the rush of the wind once more, distantly hearing the cracking of hundreds of trees falling to their doom. Isadore thought he heard Ariel saying something as they gasped towards their most explosive sneeze yet. Suddenly he could feel it, a shift in the very air around them. His face against their chest as it slowly expanded, no longer uncontrollably jumping with need. Ariel was now the incarnation of the storm, their inhales deep and powerful as they built towards a terrifying climax.

“HaAAH-! AAAAAAAAAADDTTTIIIIIIIISSSSSCHIIIIIIIOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

They erupted, stripping the mountainside of all that was in that general direction. Ariel panted with relief as the itch finally loosened its grasp on them. They let go of Isadore and grabbed the handkerchief he had lent him, blowing their nose viciously. Isadore, a bit disappointed that Ariel had let go of him so suddenly, turned to look at the damage. 

His breath caught in his throat. The devastation was incredible. Where there had once been a verdant forest behind the little cottage, there was now nothing but rocky crag and the edge of the cliff. The mountainside once blossoming with shoots of green peeking from the snow was now flat and grey, blown to distances unknown by the typhoon force winds.

“I… don’t know if I have a blessing sufficient to cover that performance.” Isadore joked.

He felt a twinge of regret as Ariel lowered their handkerchief and looked at him with an unsteady gaze. They looked an absolute state; eyes clouded by unshed tears, their hair and skin faded by the dust from the collapse of the cottage. Yet their nose, insatiable, practically glowed red in contrast to their bronze skin; it twitched, as though threatening an encore.

“Isadore, I’m s-so sorry-,” Ariel began.

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Isadore interjected firmly.

“As a matter of fact, are you okay? That fit seemed to take a lot out of you, do you know what caused it?”

Ariel nodded blearily in response. They stepped closer to him, reaching long, graceful fingers behind his ear. The knight felt his face redden for the umpteenth time that day with their sudden closeness.

 Ariel plucked a flower from behind Isadore’s ear and brought it within his view. Suddenly, he recalled the events of the morning. 

While on a trip to the town to collect some supplies for their home, he had encountered a flower seller.  She had handed him an aster bloom. The first one of the season, she had said; guaranteed to aid in quests for love. Isadore had chuckled internally at the sales tactic, but almost hoped that she had been right. He had become quite fond of his dear mage over the course of the past year and did contemplate informing Ariel of his feelings, but routinely chickened out.

He tucked it behind his ear and had completely forgotten about it as he went about his other business for the morning. All along, it had been that unseemly little flower previously lost in his curls had been the culprit, especially since Ariel was beginning to look sneezier by the second.

“I-ihhH! I forgot th-hhhH-that spring is… is!!!” 

Isadore pushed his finger under their nose, pressing firmly. He rubbed the agitated appendage, hoping to soothe it as he gently coaxed the offending irritant out of his crush’s hand, unsure if the mountain could survive another eruption.

As Ariel’s nose slowly stopped twitching and their breathing evened, Isadore celebrated internally.

“My apologies, thank you Isa,” Ariel sighed gratefully.

“I had meant to say, I had completely forgotten that spring has come.” They finished, distraught.

“So what if spring’s here?” Isadore asked, curious.

Ariel lowered their gaze towards the barren forest floor, embarrassed. Isadore tilted his head in confusion.

“ I … get terrible rose fever.” They admitted.

“When the flowers bloom they make my nose itch so badly that this,” Ariel gestured to the destroyed cottage and flattened stretch of forest, “ becomes a common occurrence.”

They looked genuinely despondent.

“It’s the main reason I have to live so far away from the village, not many flowers that make me sneeze grow on the mountain. Especially not thahhH-” Ariel cut themself off momentarily. They began scrubbing at their nose, sniffling wetly. Almost as though they were punishing it for the interruption. Isadore drank in the sight, enraptured, before they continued.

“N-not those ahhH-aHccursed aahhH-aster blooms, snf, hhihhHh!” They ground out. Isadore could feel in the air that something was wrong.

“ hhhHh—hehhH! N-no! P-please no! ahhHh- aaAAH!”

 Dark clouds, unintentionally summoned by magic, began to gather overhead and the wind began to howl. He could see Ariel desperately trying to dispel the itch, to regain their control and make the rapidly approaching sneeze go away, to make the approaching storm go away. 

It was too late though. The itch, triggered by the sight of the tiny flower alone, would only release them from its grip by being blown to nothing and Ariel’s nose, vindictive and angry from the constant attempts to quash the tickle, would only have one resolution.

The situation was beginning to spiral out of control. The storm clouds were getting bigger and more dangerous by the second, fueled by Ariel’s sneezy gasps and magic. Isadore was transfixed. 

Mesmerized and reverent he stood there, like a pious man before a deity, as Ariel’s chest inflated from all the air they were pulling in and as both wind and cloud grew more fierce as they gasped towards a monstrous release.

“iiiIIIhhHHHHH! IsaaaAAAAaHh! Y-you need to ruh-run!” Ariel begged between hitching gasps.

“C-can’t h-hhhhHhHH-hold back hhhhAAAAAAAHH–!! m-much longer! Go–!”

This time Isadore took heed of their words and fled the scene, as nothing could shield him from the wrath of the mage’s nose anylonger.  Running through the trees Ariel hadn’t blown away, ducking and weaving through branches, Isadore had made it about 400 away meters when,

“HHHAAAAAAADDTTTSSSCHHIIIIIIEEEEEWWWWWWWWWW!!!”

It was as though an explosion rocked the mountain. The air became electrified as massive streaks of lightning struck the clearing. A surge of wind and debris blew through the forest, collapsing all that stood in its path.

Though Isadore had run as fast and as hard as he could, he could not outpace the storm surge. He was blown bodily off his feet and flung for greater distances still. By the time he had landed a sort of protective dam formed from the trees torn out of the ground surrounded him.

He lay there on the forest floor for a moment, contemplating his situation. Isadore was thoroughly enamored by Ariel’s decidedly unintentional display of power; dangerous though it was, he was deeply aroused by the situation. 

As Isadore tried to free himself of the dam he felt the air shift strangely again.

“Oh Ariel, again?” He chuckled to himself. 

Just as anticipated, a booming —

“HHHHHHRAAAAAAAADDDJJJZZZSSSSCCCHUUUUUUUUUEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!”

— rattled the mountains. The incoming gale, though more powerful than its predecessor, carried only the dust of the earth with it. A minor blessing Isadore found himself grateful for.  He began to wonder how far he had been blown on the first gust, shocked Ariel’s eruption was still clearly audible. 

Although, as astoundingly powerful as the last two releases were, Isadore knew there would be one more sneeze lurking within Ariel and it would be the biggest one yet. 

He considered that perhaps the itch had died down somewhat. That Ariel, standing in a barren clearing of their own creation, nose held high, would fan their face to discourage the itch from setting their nose aflame with need once more. They would try anything to stop the itch from gaining a foothold and would, predictably, begin to scrub at their angry nose, to try to grind it into submission.

Isadore knew from experience that this tactic would fail. Ariel’s nose would spark anew with desire for a truly cataclysmic release, and would bring them and the rest of their body into step to complete the production. Their inhales would become a vacuum, pulling in as much air as possible; capable of ripping up plants, swaying trees, crumbling walls. They would hitch and hitch and hitch until their body could no longer take the absurd degree to which their nose burned, and once that happened—

“EEEIIIIHHHHHHHHDDDTTTTZZSSSSSSCHHHHHIIIUUUUUUUUUEEEEEEEEEEE!!!”

Isadore found himself flying again. 

His landing was thankfully broken by a pool of water. Sputtering as his head broke the water, Isadore pulled himself out of the pool and took a breath of fresh air.

The sudden dunk in the cold pool cleared his mind of the lurid thoughts he had been experiencing, allowing him to focus on the situation at hand. Surveying his surroundings, Isadore realized he knew where he was; the realization widening his eyes with shock.