(moony’s version)

Leona - who’s been close enough to you to memorize the scent. He knows the brand. Knows the make and year. Some cheap body spray that barely lasts longer than a few hours. Like gum. He sprays some on his pillows before bed, burying his nose between them and pretends it’s you.

Ruggie - who couldn’t help himself. He swiped your half-empty bottle with practiced ease. Using it sparingly, down to the last drop, spritzing just enough on his collar to make it through the hard times. Doesn’t matter the price now. He tries to tell himself ‘when it’s out, i’m done’ but he said that when you left and look at him now.

Jack - who forgets entirely. Until weeks pass and he finds one of ‘your’ sweaters in his room. A little travel sized perfume in the pocket. He sprays some on the collar and presses it to his nose. For a moment, you’re there.

Azul - who’s paid for new couches in the VIP room. Scent permeates into leather and you’ve spent night after night curled on the originals. They’re moved to his bedroom, where he sleeps on them more than his own bed.

Floyd - who’s used to everything smelling too big. The surface world’s full of more pungent notes. He asks (demands) rather garishly for whatever you had. Soap, perfume, lotion - he doesn’t care. In a world where smells are too big, yours has become too small.

Jade - who brews the same blend of tea every night. Serves it in the same cup, pours out of the same pot, and doesn’t take a single sip. He lets the scent evaporate into the air because it smells faintly of someone who would dab some on their pulse points. Just for him.

Kalim - who supplied your entire wardrobe. Who wouldn’t budge on it, and made sure you had clean clothes besides your uniform. You looked so pretty, so happy, and your gratitude made him feel so loved. He didn’t stop there either. You complimented his bedroom once and that was enough to send more blankets than you’d ever need. Especially after seeing how cold Ramshackle could get. They were for you. So why are these the only blankets he can sleep in? If he closes his eyes, pulls them close, breathes - you’re hugging him, right? From wherever you are.

Jamil - who’s struggling to clean his room. There isn’t much time to dawdle. His sheets need to be washed. His uniform ironed. Then he has to finish his duties, shower, and ready for bed. He opens the top drawer for a new set of sheets and is hit with you. That’s right. You did the laundry last week…he closes the drawer and goes to borrow a set from Kalim. The urge to pull them out strong, but Jamil’s always been resistant to his needs.

Vil - who’s suddenly caught wearing a brand far beneath his normal standards. He rarely shows preference to one over the other. Yet this cheap, poorly balanced - honest to goodness mockery of a perfume has become his favorite. No one knows why.

Epel - who let you use his cardigan one time. More like you stole it during your stay at Harveston. Grandma said she’d make you one for when you came back. You still hogged his. The fibers picked your scent and he’s afraid to wash it. What was supposed to bring homely comfort, now fills him with yearning and nostalgia.

Rook - who seats himself in front of the fire. Barely lit, dim, and more for the mood. To light this abandoned room in a new emotion. He takes one last inhale from the most intoxicating scent known to Twisted Wonderland, and then tosses it to the flames.

Idia - who fingers a little glass bottle between thumb and index. It’s almost gone. He could buy more. Make some. The tags were peeled off, but Ortho could dissect the contents with just a drop. He’s clinging. Idia knows this as he pops the cap and presses his nose to it.

Ortho - who’s learning how to make friends. With new emotions and freedom. He’s studied the senses and how they influence emotions. When asked if there’s anything he’d like from Ramshackle, he thinks of what his brother might like. Idia won’t ask for himself. Yet Ortho’s own thoughts surprise him, because why does he want this little bottle of perfume so badly? It’s nothing special. He can locate 10 online listings with competitive prices and quantities. Yet he specifically wants this one.

Malleus - who slips into Ramshackle at the height of midnight. A ruin once again with relics upon relics of a beautiful soul now gone. He loiters and avoids your bedroom. Yet when he enters the bathroom, he looks at his reflection in the vanity. His eye catches the smallest glass bottle…and he takes it. He dares to spray it once on his cuff. The yearning causes him to stow it away for the next century. Until he craves to feel their warmth and searches.

Lilia - who smiles fondly, pressing the lapels of your blazer down and into a box. Taking it in before that sense begins to dull too. Committing it to memory. In a decade or two he’ll cross its path again, and remember .

Sebek - who chases. Who shamefully gives in to instinct and attachment. Who sprays the last of some generic, cheap, alcohol based scent that was an assault to him with bittersweet yearning. He traps it on your portrait and seals it in a glass frame. If temptation’s going to linger in him, then let it drive him forward.

Silver - whose eyes open easily for the first time. His heart stuttering, mind shifting, attention sharp … the call of your name on his lips, as a random student shakes him awake during class. He asks what perfume they wear and commits it to memory.