Vell Harlan and the Doomsday Dorms

After all the strange problems Vell had been facing lately, moving a very large dresser should have been the easiest. And yet-

“What the hell is this thing made out of,” Joan grunted. “Uranium?”

“It’s mahogany,” Skye said. She paused thoughtfully and brushed her hand along the top of the dresser. “Though there might be something hidden in it somewhere. My dad is weirdly insistent I take this specific dresser with my wherever I go. He might have some kind of security device installed in it.”

“That’s completely- you know what, I don’t actually care,” Joan said. A defensive dresser was the least of her concerns. “Just maybe mention that before I agree to help you lift it.”

“Fair play. Vell, do you have a levitation rune or something we can slap on this thing?”

“I actually think I have a better idea,” Vell said. “Give me one second.”

Vell left, and headed down the stairs towards the common room. Joan and Skye leaned on the motionless dresser and tried not to make eye contact.

“So, I hear your dad’s working on a new book.”

“Yeah. Getting some hero perspective on stuff.”

“When’s that going to come out?”

“Who knows,” Skye said. “He’s been saying he’s ‘halfway done’ for a year now.”

“Well, no rush,” Joan said. “The first one was a great read, is all.”

“Useful advice for you, back in the day?”

“You know, surprisingly little,” Joan said. “I was never really big on the theatrics. Your dad’s a bit of a showoff, no offense.”

“Offense? He’d take that as a compliment.”

Their conversation was cut short by Vell Harlan returning with exactly twenty-five men and women in tow. He rejoined his friends as the gathered mob grabbed the dresser and hauled it out of Skye’s room and down the hall towards Vell’s dorm.

“How’d you get them to help?”

“Promised to tell them something about Quenay,” Vell said. There were (slightly) fewer people actively bothering him about the Goddess nowadays, but most of his fellow students were still secretly ravenous for any info they could get on Quenay or the ten-lined rune.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Of course.”

The mob returned, and all of them stared expectantly at Vell.

“Alright, as promised, here’s your secret,” Vell said. “Did you know: Quenay is really bad at video games?”

The twenty-five man mob continued to stare at Vell.

“That doesn’t feel particularly relevant.”

“I said I’d tell you something, that’s something,” Vell said. “Now get out of here.”

The mob mumbled to themselves, wondering how easy it would be to get something else out of Vell (very easy, usually), but targeted glares from Skye and Joan made them realize it would be a losing battle. They shuffled off, defeated, muttering to themselves all the while.

“That was shockingly devious,” Joan said.

“I’m learning the value of a good scheme,” Vell said. “And hopefully it’ll stop people from bothering me about Quenay again.”

“It’ll certainly make them think twice,” Joan said. “Though maybe we should’ve double checked for any other heavy stuff we need to move first.”

“I think that will about cover it, actually,” Skye said. “Got a few more things to haul, but I think I am about moved out.”

“Alright, great, let me handle what’s left of the moving,” Joan said. “It’s the least I can do.”

The chaos of the semester’s end had come with a little extra chaos for Joan personally. Joan had discovered that not only had Kraid fired her, he had also gotten her evicted, frozen her assets, revoked her German citizenship, and even put her on the international terrorism watchlist. She was now broke, homeless, jobless, and unable to travel anywhere. Since the Einstein-Odinson College was an extranational entity, Dean Lichman was not obligated to extradite her, and had graciously allowed her to stay under the stipulation she’d have to find her own way to house and feed herself. Skye had helpfully provided one of those things by moving out of her dorm and into Vell’s.

“Eh, it’s fine,” Skye said. “Frankly I was thinking about moving in with the big nerd anyway.”

Skye bumped a shoulder into Vell and gave the “big nerd” an affectionate nuzzle.

“Be a good test run for moving in together after we graduate,” Skye continued.

“And between all of us we can probably keep you fed too,” Vell added.

“Thanks, but I think I’m going to look into some paid tutoring,” Joan said. “Maybe beg Dean Lichman for an office assistant gig. I try to avoid freeloading.”

“Up to you,” Vell said. Joan no longer had quite so much of an ego, but she did hold on to some of her pride. She wouldn’t accept help she didn’t think she needed. “Is there anything else you need right now, though?”

“I need to know what the hell happened to my sister,” Joan said. Skye braced herself. Always fun to dive headfirst into the drama. “But I think that’s going to be long-term.”

Talking to Helena had been Joan’s first priority. She was easy to find, but not easy to talk to. Helena had brushed off every entreaty, every appeal, and refused to give Joan anything beyond a few passive-aggressive remarks. She had backed off for now, but had not given up yet.

“Okay then, you’re moved in, your sister’s on the backburner, then that leaves us with…”

“Alex,” Vell grunted.

“Who you think warrants your very limited free time during new year’s break,” Skye said. “Because she cried a little.”

“A lot, actually,” Vell said. “Like, I’ve seen my share of crying, that was a lot of crying. It was crazy.”

“A lot of crying,” Skye said. “Okay. Joan, you’re relatively new to the Alex experience. What do you think?”

“Okay, I’m obviously the last person who’d ever tell Vell Harlan not to be patient with someone,” Joan said. “But is helping this girl get a date your priority right now?”

“It’d also be getting Freddy a date,” Vell pointed out. “I think they could make a cute couple. With a litt- no, even I can’t bullshit that, it’s going to be a lot of work. We’re basically going to have to make Alex a new person.”

“Right, and how much effort are we going to put into that?”

“You said you wanted us to do more romantic stuff,” Vell said. “This is romance.”

“I meant our romance, Vell,” Skye said. “Playing matchmaker for some chick I don’t even like is not romantic.”

“Fine, I get it, we don’t have to spend a lot of time on it,” Vell said. “Maybe just a little?”

Skye crossed her arms and stared Vell down. She knew she might as well ask the sun to stop shining as to ask Vell Harlan not to help people. She also wanted Vell to stop trying to play Atlas and let him have a break from bearing the weight of the world on his shoulders. Getting him to stop would be a lot harder with Joan on hand. It’d be hard to convince anyone helping would be a bad idea with the poster child for redemption arcs standing next to them.

Skye pursed her lips, and narrowed her eyes at Joan.

“Alright, I’ll tell you what,” Skye said. “‘We’ are not going to do anything. You, Vell Harlan, are going to sit back, take a break, catch up on your studies, and plan a very romantic evening for us.”

“And, meanwhile…?”

“Meanwhile,” Skye continued. She grabbed Joan by the shoulder and pulled her in close. “We are going to handle Alex.”

Joan squirmed slightly in Skye’s forceful grip.

“We?”

“We,” Skye said. “Come on, Joanie, you need a distraction anyway.”

“Don’t call me Joanie,” Joan insisted. “But...ugh, I guess.”

She could hardly deny anyone else the kind of help and support she had received, and it’d be nice to have something to keep her mind off Helena—and being broke, homeless, and legally a terrorist—for a while. Vell seemed a little more skeptical of the idea.

“Are you guys sure this is a good idea?”

“No, but I’m doing it anyway,” Skye said. “Too late to stop me, Vell, I’m committing to the bit.”

“Fine. Just call me if you need help,” Vell said. “I’ll be in my- our dorm if you need me.”

“Oh, yeah, before you get settled on anything, let’s wheel my white board back in here,” Skye said. “I think this is going to call for some visual aids.”

About half an hour later, the visual aids were set up, and Skye had set up a small classroom space for Alex. Their student for the evening was currently staring intently at the floor while Skye and Joan flanked either side of a blank whiteboard.

“So. You’ve got a crush on Freddy,” Skye said. Alex let out a long sigh of discomfort.

“Can we please not use such juvenile terms?”

“No. We’re doing this like a kid, because you haven’t loved anybody since you were a kid,” Skye said, leaning in close to Alex to emphasize her scolding tone. “We got to boot camp you through about fourteen years worth of emotional development before the semester’s over, starting with the ‘juvenile’ stuff.”

Alex let out another small grunt of displeasure, but said nothing. Skye stepped back and straightened out, then tapped her knuckles against the whiteboard.

“Now, what would you say is your biggest obstacle to a relationship with Freddy?”

“Uh...communicating my feelings in a healthy manner?”

“Surprisingly insightful, but no. Your biggest problem-”

Skye grabbed the whiteboard and rotated it on a hinge, displaying the backside of the board, which had the words “FUNDAMENTALLY UNLIKABLE” drawn on it in large red marker. Joan took a step back in shock at the brutally blunt message.

“-is that you are a fundamentally unlikable person.”

“I- Aren’t you supposed to be helping me?” Alex pleaded.

“This is helping,” Skye said. “Look, you can waltz up to Freddy and ask him for a date, but even if he said yes, you’d just ruin it for yourself because you’re a selfish, egotistical, impatient nightmare of a person who doesn’t know how to maintain healthy relationships.”

“That’s not my fault,” Alex said. “My whole life, people just told me academics were the only thing that mattered, nobody ever stopped and- I didn’t have-”

Alex stopped and started multiple defenses of her own ruined priorities before finally relenting.

“I’m just tired of being alone,” Alex said. Alex had not realized how much she missed human connection until she’d been shown the smallest threads of it once again.

“I get it,” Joan said. “You tell yourself you’ll do whatever it takes, and you keep pushing and pushing and pushing until one day, you realize ‘whatever’ isn’t worth it.”

Alex nodded. She knew Joan’s story well enough to know she was speaking from experience.

“Look, I’m going to try to be as nice as I can about this,” Skye said. “But I’d be doing you a disservice if I tried to sugarcoat some of this stuff. You had a bad situation growing up, I get that, but a lot of people had it a lot worse and didn’t turn out like you. You’ve got to own up to that and try to be better.”

“I- I’ll try,” Alex said.

“Good. Now, let’s break down this overarching problem,” Skye said, gesturing to her “fundamentally unlikable” drawing. “And turn it into smaller action items. First things first.”

Skye spun the white board again, displaying a new drawing that read “1: EGO”. Joan glanced at the back of the whiteboard.

“Wasn’t that side blank a second ago?”

“Focus, Joan,” Skye said. “You need to get your ego under control. You need to see people as equals to be able to have good relationships with them.”

“That...makes sense.”

“Second thing.”

Skye flipped the board again, and it now displayed “2: IMPATIENCE”. Joan looked at the back of the board, then the front again. There were still definitely only two sides.

“Is this magic? Are you doing magic?”

“Patience. You need to be willing to wait, listen, and tolerate things even if you don’t agree with them.”

Alex nodded, and Joan was forced to take a step back as Skye rotated the white board yet again. Joan just rolled her eyes and walked away as the whiteboard once again changed to display “3: PEOPLE SKILLS”.

“Now this one is more general, but you do need to learn some basic social graces,” Skye said. “You need to be able to make small talk, crack jokes, just kill time with people. We can knock that out at the same time as the other two, even.”

“Sounds efficient.”

“Glad you agree,” Skye said. They were already off to a good start with Alex being so cooperative. “Now, where to begin…”

“Do you not already have a plan?”

“Patience,” Skye snapped. Alex shut up. “I got involved in this like half an hour ago, obviously I don’t have a plan.”

Alex nodded in affirmation. While Skye plotted their next course of action, Joan loudly cleared her throat.

“What? You need something?”

“Well, you just acted impatiently and upset Skye,” Joan said. “So now you…”

It took Alex a few seconds to get up to speed.

“Oh right! ‘Sorry’.”

“There you go, progress already,” Joan said.

“And I think I have an idea,” Skye said.

Alex took a deep breath before she knocked on the door. She would’ve liked a little more support in these endeavors, but Skye and Joan had both insisted she needed to be able to stand on her own. If she needed someone looking over her shoulder to be a good person, she wasn’t really a good person. Had Alex been a believer, she might have found that argument vaguely sacrilegious, but she was thoroughly (and smugly) atheistic.

Musings on the nature of divinity were put on hold when the door to the dorm opened. Alex straightened up, and then unstraightened up. She was trying to seem casual and friendly, not scholarly.

“Hi. Isabel?”

“Yeah. You must be Alex?”

Isabel opened the door all the way, though she did not invite Alex in just yet. The two were similar in many ways -they both had dark skin and hair, sharp noses, and they both wore very similar thick-rimmed glasses. Yet in spite of those superficial similarities, Alex felt she had no resemblance to Isabel at all. Something about the way she carried herself was unlike Alex on a fundamental level. Even the way the glasses framed her eyes was different -Alex’s glasses were harsh, heavy cages around her intense gaze, while Isabel’s were like window frames, emphasizing the sparkle in her eyes.

Alex hated her. It was an instant vendetta, intense, immediate, and without thought, in such a way that it actually surprised Alex herself. Even knowing she could be a bitch, that was an incredibly bitchy reaction. Alex tried to choke it down to the best of her limited ability.

“That’s me,” Alex said, hoping Isabel wouldn’t notice the way her voice was straining. She did.

“Come in,” Isabel said. She was already wondering if she was going to regret agreeing to this. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard a lot of stories.”

“None of them good, I imagine,” Alex said. Quips like that had been in one of Skye’s small-talk primers. Alex had flash cards in her bag. Isabel tactfully said nothing, and gestured Alex to come inside. Her dorm smelled like flowers, and was nearly wallpapered in colorful posters, pictures, and painting. Shelves were arranged with small, cutesy knickknacks and pictures of Isabels’ family and friends, with her boyfriend Cyrus taking center stage in one array of photographs on top of a dresser. It all made Alex want to throw up. She focused on what she was here for.

An array of runes, and the equipment necessary to create even more, were laid out on the table in the cnter of Isabel’s kitchen, though all were unfinished. None of them had the spark of magic, meaning they were just chits of stone with fancy designs carved into them. Alex tapped her fingers against one, but did nothing just yet.

“So, these need to be charged, right?”

“Yes,” Isabel said. “I usually have a friend who does this for me, but she’s at home for break. So it’s either sit around and have these things be useless, or spend a lot of money on mana batteries. If you could zap some magic into them, that’d be a huge help.”

“Why don’t you just- sorry,” Alex said. She’d been about to say something unhelpful and possibly (definitely) rude. “Yes, I can probably do that.”

She had powered up runes before, usually to help Vell solve an apocalypse, but that had been before. A lot of things had happened between “before” and “now.’

“I should warn you, though, I’ve had some, um, hiccups, in my magic lately,” Alex said. Sorting out her feelings had given her some control of her magic back, but she still wasn’t at her old level.

“I’ve heard,” Isabel said. “Seems like you’ve had an...interesting past couple days. Just give it a try, see if it works, and if it doesn’t, no worries.”

Every word out of Isabel’s mouth made Alex hate her more, and she didn’t even fully understand why. Something about Isabel’s saccharine-sweet, pink pastel colored existence infuriated her. Alex choked it down and focused on the runes. She grabbed one at random and flexed her fingers, trying to call up the sparks of magic. Flickers of green danced around the edge of the gray light as Alex worked with what little magic she could muster.

“I think it’s working fine,” Alex said. “Just one second…”

A final flare surged out of her fingers, and the rune began to glow faintly.

“There we go,” Alex said. It was nice to know she could still do something right.

“Excellent,” Isabel said. “Are you feeling okay? That didn’t take too much out of you?”

“I feel fine, obv-”

Alex actually bit her own tongue to stop it from saying something rude.

“Thank you for asking,” Alex said. “I’m good.”

Isabel, who had just watched Alex very obviously bite herself, stared for a few seconds.

“Okay. I guess just keep going. Do you want, uh, a drink, or something? Coffee, tea?”

Alex prepared herself to explain that the stimulants in those beverages were actually detrimental to magical acuity. She never got the chance.

“Oh, wait, right, it’s just ice water that’s good for magical stuff, right? Better mana concentrations, temperature contrast helps you focus, that kind of stuff.”

“Yes,” Alex said through clenched teeth. “Ice water would be great. Thanks.”

Isabel headed for the fridge and returned with a glass of ice water. Alex took one sip, got an ice cube in her mouth, and crushed it with her teeth. She needed to vent her frustrations on something. For reasons still unknown even to her, everything Isabel did made Alex hate her more.

“Did you just bite an ice cube?”

Except that. That was actually a completely normal thing to ask.

“Yes. I...I like the crunch,” Alex said. That was not a normal way to answer. Alex racked her brain for a way to change the subject and then remembered the small talk flashcards haphazardly shoved into her bag. “So, Isabel, do you have hobbies?”

“Oh, yeah. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I kind of like to collect, uh, everything,” Isabel said. She gestured to the vast array of tiny trinkets all over her dorm room.

“You certainly do seem to like the pastel portion of the color spectrum, yes,” Alex said. There was no saturation to be found anywhere in Isabel’s home.

“Beyond that, umm...I guess I like hiking, but I can’t really do that here,” Isabel said. “It’s a flat island, feels silly just walking around in a circle.”

“That is ridiculous, yes.”

“It’s still nice to stretch my legs every once in a while,” Isabel said. “Take a stroll with my boyfriend.”

Alex’s fist clenched reflexively, and she snapped the rune she was charging in half.

“Hey, those take a long time to carve!”

“I get it now!”

“What? You get what?”

“I get why I hate you!”

Isabel’s jaw dropped. Alex stared at the rune she broke without blinking for a few seconds.

“I shouldn’t have said that out loud.”

“No! You shouldn’t have,” Isabel said. “What the fuck is wrong with you, I just met you!”

“I know, I didn’t get it either,” Alex said. “But I just figured it out. You look like me, and you’re smart like me, but you have friends and love and hobbies and a normal life, and I’m just jealous of you. That’s all.”

Alex grabbed another carved token and snapped her fingers. Isabel kept staring at her.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting back to work?”

“Alex,” Isabel said. “Get the fuck out of my dorm.”

“Oh, right, I forgot,” Alex said. “I’m sorry. It was irrational of me, and-”

“Get out!”

Isabel grabbed Alex, pulled her to the door, and shoved her out. The door slammed so hard and so fast it actually did hit Alex on the way out.

“I said I was sorry!”

Alex told her story, and Joan and Skye facepalmed in perfect synchronization.

“I said I was sorry.”

“Well, it’s better than not saying it,” Joan said.

“Adding impulse control to the list of things we need to work on,” Skye said. “Why would you say that?”

“It was true,” Alex said. “I was giving an honest explanation of the situation.”

“This is one of those situations where not saying things is better,” Joan said. “Take it from me: sometimes the best thing you can do is keep your mouth shut.”

“What we need is a way to really emphasize how miserable it is for other people when you talk,” Skye said.

“Hey.”

“Again, cannot sugar coat some things,” Skye said. “Maybe we could somehow wipe your memory so you can hear how you sound without really knowing it’s you.”

“Or, how about we just make Alex put up with someone even worse than she is.”

Skye made a face.

“Come on,” Joan said. “There’s got to be someone out there.”

Alex made a face.

“Not my sister,” Joan said. “Come on, we’re on an island with a bunch of supergenius rich kids, there’s got to be at least one asshole who -fuck. Him.”

“Who are you- Oh, right. Him.”

“Him?”

Alex thought about it for a few seconds and then rolled her eyes so hard her entire upper body swayed from side to side.

“Come on,” Alex said. “Him?”

Him.

“Hello,” Alex said. “Orn.”

The chestnut-furred centaur look up from his textbook and twitched pointy ears. He had a look of disdain on his face, though that might have just been his default expression, not anything to do with Alex specifically.

“Do I know you?”

“You nearly killed me with a growth ray at the start of the year,” Alex said.

“Oh yes, that incident,” Orn said. “I’m afraid you’re misremembering: that incident was entirely Vell Harlan’s fault.”

“Right, actually, I was meaning to ask,” Alex said. If she was going to be forced to suffer through Orn, she at least wanted to make it productive. “Why exactly do you hate Vell Harlan so much?”

Orn’s disdainful expression shifted, and he looked at Alex as if she was the stupidest person in the world.

“You have met Vell Harlan, correct?”

“Well, yes, but...I only know my reasons for hating him,” Alex said. “You’ve known him much longer than I have. I’d like to expand my knowledge base.”

“Ah, entirely reasonable,” Orn said. Alex gave herself a pat on the back for bluffing so well, and then wondered if lying and being smug about it was negative growth. “Allow me to explain, or- Hmm, even better, let me tell you the story of when I first met Vell Harlan.”

THE PAST:

Orn the Centaur trotted across the campus for his MIT orientation. A large group of fellow first-time students were gathered on the quad and were standing in line to get acquainted with classrooms and professors on their first day. Orn attempted to take his rightful place at the front of the line, but was foolishly denied and told to wait his turn. He ended up at the end of a long line of humans, standing right behind a tall, lanky male. While the rest of the students took the time to stare and admire his impressive physique, the noodle-looking human paid no mind to Orn’s magnificent appearance.

THE PRESENT:

“And of course, that human was Vell Harlan,” Orn said. “And he will never be forgiven.”

“That seems...inconclusive,” Alex said. Not only had Vell done literally nothing, the nothing he’d done was actually kind of nice. Vell had tacitly accepted Orn as a regular part of his day, unlike the other students who had gawked at the centaur.

“Oh, believe me, that incident was merely the first in a long line of grievances,” Orn said. “Just listen to this.”

SLIGHTLY LESS THE PAST:

Orn trotted into his first class of the day. While most of the seats were foolishly designed for human students, a few seats near the edge of the class had been designed to accommodate an appropriately centaurish physique. Orn headed for a seat at the front, and momentarily displaced a white cane with a red tip leaning on the desk next to him. The owner of the cane started groping across their desk, until another student reached down and grabbed the cane, putting it directly in their hands.

“Oh, thanks Vell,” the student said. “Did somebody just knock that off my desk?”

“Yeah, uh, on accident,” Vell said. “Don’t worry about it.”

STILL THE PRESENT:

“You can imagine my frustration at Vell trying to throw me under the bus,” Orn continued, as Alex stared at him.

“Orn, Vell was covering for you,” Alex said. “Also: I’m pretty sure that person was blind. You knocked away a blind person’s mobility aid.”

“Even if that were true, they’d just be blind, not armless,” Orn said. “They could pick it up themselves.”

“That’s not- okay, forget it,” Alex said.

“If you still need data, there is one more story I could tell you of my first meetings with Vell Harlan,” Orn said. “Though I shudder to share such a horrid story in public.”

“You know what, I think I can handle it,” Alex said. She felt like she would regret this, but she had to know.

“Very well, listen closely,” Orn began.

EVEN LESS THE PAST:

Orn trotted across the campus at lunchtime. Nearby, Vell Harlan sat at a picnic table and ate a sandwich.

THE PRESENT AGAIN:

Alex waited. Orn said nothing.

“Oh, I’m sorry, was that the entire story?”

“I’ve left out some of the more depraved details, but yes.”

“Hmm.”

Alex folded her hands in front of her face as if in prayer.

“I trust that was illuminating regarding the matter of Vell Harlan?”

“Oh yes, very illuminating,” Alex said. She pointed at Orn. “I think you should be put down like a sick dog. Goodbye and never speak to me again.”

Alex left.

“Okay, I’m not going to say you were wrong,” Skye said. “But-”

“But what?”

“But you didn’t need to threaten him,” Skye said.

“De-escalating is an important skill to learn,” Joan said. “Sometimes it’s okay to walk away.”

“I- Okay, you have a point,” Alex said. “My mistake.”

“Also, if you are going to threaten someone, be more creative,” Joan said.

“Yeah, pretty weak threat, Alex.”

“Getting mixed messages here,” Alex said.

“It’s okay to threaten people sometimes, and you need to be able to do it right,” Skye said. “But that’ll be a skill we work on later. We’re not exactly making good progress right now.”

“Or any,” Alex said.

“Hey, don’t talk like that,” Joan said. “This ain’t a movie, you don’t just randomly become a better person overnight because you feel bad. You’ve got to be mindful, break bad habits and learn good ones, over a long period of time.”

“That sounds like it sucks.”

“Going to be real with you, chief,” Joan said. “It sucks super bad.”

Joan felt absolutely no regret about changing her ways, but it did take a lot of effort. Even now, more than three years later, she had to stop herself from giving in to instinctive reactions, or trying to take the easy way out.

“It’s all worth it, though,” Joan said. “And, good news, I just had a great idea for another way to help you.”

“Third time’s the charm, I guess,” Alex sighed. It couldn’t possibly get any worse.