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(Let me know whatever thoughts)

Part 12/12

She could tell the husband asked this for good reason. But she didn’t have a choice. It would be the only thing that helps, and even for that Artemisia would kill her if she knew. “It’s my own fabrication. I made it in the lab just now - It’s made specifically for Florian.”

“You aren’t answering my questions," Finn answered bluntly. “Do you want them to be better or not?”

Finn glared at her, almost gritting his teeth, wondering how she dared to ask such a ridiculous thing. He’d have stood up if not for Flo laying against him, who was staring around, their eyes occassionally falling on the pills, Rhoen, and closed. "I'll take it," they mumbled.

“But Flo-” he shut up when Flo turned around and looked straight at him. Looking worse than that morning, somehow. But at least the dark circles made their eyes look even brighter in comparison.

 “Finn...I'll take it," Flo repeated more clearly but still needing effort, "I can barely even keep tea inside... It won’t make me feel worse…”

Finn swallowed that thought. Worse... Was no option. And something had to be done. He was happy that Flo was open to anything at all, when he came to think of it. "I'll trust what you want to do, it's your body." After paying the small symbolic sum for the appointment, the duo walked back outside; Flo practically carried home. Once again refusing a wheelchair until the car.

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End of chapter

Part 8/12

Meanwhile the doctor was in the hall. After performatively taking the phone with her, she put it back in her pocket and resolutely walked towards the door. There were some colleagues to whom she gestured she was taking a break. Once outside she took a deep breath and then started hastily floating towards the forest.

There was a small meadow, and within the trees and bushes was hidden a small faeburrow. Glowing green as wasn't uncommon here, the home of the alpine wood elves. 

With a small dance Emmaline turned into her true, primary form. A mere whisp of light, undetectable to many, and hard to distinguish from another. Her actual elf essence, the outwards appearance being a farce to be seen and understood by humans.

The fae burrows were all connected to one another within the same clan, and were the true world of the elves. Any other elf currently in them, even if they were on the other side of the mountain, she would be able to talk to.

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Part 6/12

“Based on my notes from previous visits you two don’t use protection?” Dr. Rhoen suddenly interrupted. The two looked up from their daydream. “Excuse me?” they mouthed together.

Finn ended up taking the word, while Flo sat back a bit, closing their eyes occasionally as if trying to sleep. “No, we don’t, why would we?” Finn frowned slightly, and nudged Flo to say something as well. Who, dizzy and weak, couldn’t hold back a thing and was short. “I like it bareback. Feels more connected.” They awaited her answer, but all she did was give a calculated stare and nod.

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A voice of reason. Or awkward factoids.

Full name: Bree Dimou - Pistache

Place of birth: Bridgeport

Date of birth: May year 48

Current age: 56

Sexuality: Lesbian

Pronouns: She/they

Parents: Mary Miller, Nicolas Dimou (absent)

Siblings: unknown, but she likely has some on her biological spermdonor's side

Spouse: Bianca Pistache

Amount of steady relationships: 1

Children: Demi Pistache (stephdaughter), Florian Pistache, Fuchsia Pistache (harvested)

Relevant chapters: Pistache prehistory, 14 summers ago

Occult: Human. Plain old fully human.

Status: Playing insane scientist and starting to wonder wtf is up with het child.

Life time wish: Scientific specialist (fulfilled)

Traits: Ambitious, commitment issues, computer whiz, Genius, Grumpy, Snob, Socially Awkward

Favourites: Ratatouille, Lilac, Classical

Biography

Bree is born to a single mother, who was banished from her hyperconservative family after coming back pregnant after a holiday to Greece - the father was named Dimou, "or something"?

Her mom didn't even have a proper high school diploma, making it necessary for her to sell herself in order to buy her little girl Bree something to eat. Bree was an intelligent child, and soon figured out something's amiss; other kids don't consider fruit juice a christmas treat, sleep in the same room as their mom, and are alone at home at night while their parent is working.

So Bree grew up isolated, and ashamed of her living situation. She escaped into books about science and was already bullied enough by her classmates. On top of it she also got smitten with a girl when she was 15, a golden blonde girl with deep blue eyes...Something the girl in case didn't appreciate.

Seeing Bree's wit, her mother saved up money for her to go to university. Right before Bree planned to leave, she died unfortunately. Possibly from something acquired due to her lifestyle, but the duo could never afford the vile Bridgeport healthcare.

After mourning and working odd jobs to pay the rest of her tuition and rent, Bree went to unversity and met Bianca - a busty, tan, popular blue eyed blonde. Smitten once again, but ashamed for her background, she didn't know what to do, switching between moody, assertiveness that gets into arrogant zone, or just straight awkwardness. Usually she just listened as the girl vented about what she had going on, seeing it as the best course of action, and quickly realized there's more to her crush than the eye meets.

Part 3/12

She was peculiar - and many were scared of her. But she had two centuries of experience, and was respected by her peers to a degree she had been given free reign to make her office her own. An office that was messy - plants everywhere, the soft green her wings blended with feeling a bit sickly due to the amount.

Old parchment with mysterious recipes in old handwriting, and cabinets with herbal medicine and modern medication standing next to each other like elves and dwarves at the final battle against darkness over her middle earth.

She got out a piece of old-fashioned paper, almost looked like parchment, to write. No pen; she swirled her right index finger’s nail over the paper and on it appeared “Florian Pistache” in curly, elegantly glittering handwriting. “So euhm…” Florian tried to speak, but it was rather slurred. Instead Finn took the word: doing a report of the past five months, from Flo’s moodyness on honeymoon, to the on and off “”Stomach Flu’s” during the summer and now…Well, that's why they were here.

“How is your pooping?” she then asked bluntly. Flo looked confused for a second. “Your toilet visits. Your poo.”

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Part 21/x

"Flo!" he shouted, and out the door they walked. A big almost manical smile, dressed in their fluffy cropped robe with Finn could only assume absolutely nothing underneath. "Don't you love them!" they said enthusiastically, and embraced Finn and pushed him against them. Not with as much force as last time, Finn noticed, but he was startled nonetheless before instinctively holding them.

"I finally got the pictures printed, aren't they nice? I honestly wish we had made a sextape of our wedding night as well." For a second Finn had been willing to follow Flo's wants. But it didn't feel right. They smelled horrible, he could simuntaneously feel their stiffness and their ribs,their face felt sweaty and waxy, and for what Flo would try to make a "special night", they'd usually do their hair in a fancier way and put on some make-up, but they hadn't even managed to hide their dark circles and acnescars.

Finn felt a pit in his stomach. He couldn't be angry at someone who he believed more and more must be in pain. Especially not someone they loved as much. But he couldn't give Flo what they wanted, not as long as he'd be scared of hurting them more. Even if they wanted it, being intimate with someone who was seemingly sick or wounded would always feel wrong to him, for his own reasons.

"Go to sleep. You look tired," he said in the sweetest way he could manage. Flo seemed to want to protest for a second, but their genuine exhaustion won the battle. "Ok, will do."

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Part 14/x

They kept talking, generally about less heavy topics - gossiping about Gabi's teachers, bringing up old memories, and the like. It was past dinnertime and the sun was setting when Bree and Bianca announced it was about time for them to go home. While Finn absent-mindedly did the dishes Flo said goodbye trying to survive the perceptive eyes of their moms once again. "It was nice seeing you! You should come over more often, or invite us more often," mama Bianca said first, with an overly sweet smile that made Flo blush. "Just do so whenever, okay? Don't think all the problems will be solved when you're just alone and training or overworking all day. Be honest with yourself. And Finn."

Flo glared at Bree for her pushy honesty. "Euhm, will do. Anyway, It's getting late, so, bye."

In the meantime Finn had gotten in the bubblebath. To think. He was patient, he would be hypocritical if he wasn't. Not so long ago he was the touchy, insecure, moody one - though his reasons had been fair enough. The soft bubbles helped to calm his nerves. Until he heard footsteps behind him.

It was Flo. After saying goodbye to their moms they donned their speedo and got into the jacuzzi as well, shuffling close to Finn, fingers weaving themselves underneath his shorts, a shallow breath uncomfortably close to his face. Finn scooted over to the other side, and Flo followed. Giving him teasing smiles, whipping their thin, muscular legs through the air, anything to get Finn's attention - who got out and went to sleep instead.

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