A drop here, a drop there (a one-shots/snippet book)

Drabbles numero tres

Fandoms: Percy Jackson/Welcome to Night Vale, Welcome to Night Vale, WtNV again, Lenna Esperanza (OC)

"Are you related to Hiram McDaniels?"

Percy looked up from where he had been staring in shock and horror at his-his claws. "What?"

The man, who had found him in the empty field and didn't react to the talking dragon other than a raised eyebrow (and introduced himself as "John Peters, you know, the farmer?"), adjusted his worn straw hat. He then repeated, patiently, in his drawling accent, "Are you related to Hiram McDaniels, literal five headed dragon? He's wanted for insurance fraud by the Sheriff's Secret Police, but he's also running for mayor."

"... What?"

John Peters hummed. "I'll take that as no, then. Would you s'cuse me a moment? I have a call to make."

Now Percy's wide eyed look turned alarmed. "Wait, who're you calling?"

"Cecil," John said, squinting at his phone then using his other hand to shade it from the sunlight. "He's the radio host, and someone's gotta tell 'im that the new arrival in town ain't got nothin' to do with McDaniels."

"Wait, what?!" Percy bolted up. This guy is gonna report him to a whole town?! Images of being hunted down and experimented on or just being straight up killed flashed through his head, and he quickly lunged at the farmer.

John Peters easily dodged to the side, as if dodging frantic talking dragons was something he was used to, and Percy went barreling past before stumbling to the ground with a yelp, the unfamiliar body and extra appendages making it difficult to maintain balance for long.

"Hey now," John Peters started, holding his hands up near near his waist in a calming motion, "No need to panic. Cecil's harmless, mostly. Likely he'll just be curious and ask for an interview."

The now-dragon pushed himself up, shaking his head before looked at the man with a desperate scared look, "But the town! Don't tell anyone, please!"

The man frowned. "Why? Are you wanted for something? Stole a car? Counterfeited money? If you're running from the law and you aren't from around here, Night Vale is really hard to find so-"

"No, I'm not running from the law!" Percy burst out, frustrated.

"Then there's no problem," John said in a patient tone as if it was obvious. "Better tell the town so the Secret Police don't take you in for questioning. And so people know to give you the traditional friendly welcome."

"And that is...?" Percy asked a little warily, wondering about the 'Secret Police' part but deciding that this was more important.

He then jumped when the man suddenly pointed at him and shouted, "INTERLOPER!"

"Like that," John finished calmly, ignoring or not noticing Percy's wide eyed look as if the farmer had declared that glass tasted delicious with parmesan cheese and rainbow sprinkles. "Welcome to Night Vale, interloper."

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Sometimes, every other month or year or so, the great masked army would visit him. Their arrival would be heralded with the sound of massive footsteps, loud and muffled by the sand, and Kevin would stir from where he was that day to greet them.

They found his fascination with blood funny, like he was a little animal with a habit that would've been disturbing if it belonged to a bigger and more dangerous animal. But since he was literally tiny compared to them, Kevin suspected they just found him adorably amusing. They would bring him gifts like a dead giant (giant for Kevin, that is) lizard and sprinkle some of its blood on him from their massive fingers.

Kevin giggled as blobs of crimson painted his hair and front, raising his palms and watching as blood dripped from skin. Then the body was dumped in front of him, and he tilted his head in consideration. It was some type of mammal this time, a warm blooded animal instead of cold, and covered in fur.

Oh! He can see a peek of its teeth! So sharp and white! They would be perfect for his collections, both of teeth and his knives.

Kevin beamed up at Doug. "Thank you!"

He can see Doug's eyes crinkle up in a smile. A pity that they all wore masks, Kevin thought that they would've looked more beautiful with a smile visible in all of its glory.

He bet their happy smiles look amazing. The only smile he sees these days is through the mirror.

_____________

Nilanjana frowned at the petri dish in her hand, tilting it this way and that to look at the bacteria culture in different angles.

Yep, that's definitely The Starry Night. In color, too.

Stan, who was entering the lab after a bathroom break, froze at her look. "Stan..." Nilanjana growled. Slowly, he took a step back. "What did I tell you about growing artworks with-STAN COME BACK HERE!"

But he was gone, leaving nothing but a faint "I'm sorryyyyy!" Dave, the only other one in the lab today, snickered as Nilanjana sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"You got to admit though, it's pretty impressive." Dave said, grinning. "The Khoshekh one is my personal favorite."

Nilanjana sighed again because yes, it's that kind of day today. Then she took a pic of the petri dish because it really was impressive, even though Stan was essentially wasting materials that they could use for actual experiments.

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A contrast to Shelie, Lenna was nodding her head furiously. Furious, in manner, not in emotion, as the emotion she was feeling was best described as 'extreme agreement'.

"Yes, please do tell us," she said eagerly. "And if you don't hiss at us while at it, we'll give you..." Lenna looked to the side, thinking. Not candy because ghosts...

"Some...pretty....rocks?" She tried. "And cute pictures of my cat?" Her cat pictures were pretty popular in the betting ring, with the scientists usually keeping them for themselves instead of betting them again. She only used them five times a year in betting though, to prevent 'flooding the market' and making them lose their value.

"His name is Mallow and he's so cute," Lenna gushed, now thoroughly into it as she tended to do when talking about Mallow. "Just the other day he was running so fast that he tripped when turning. It was hilarious. Then he ran to me. It was adorable. He was chasing a rabbit I think, and also I have suspicions that he's a lion cub actually? But its not like I have much contact with lions when I was outside town to remember much of what they look like, so...oh well. Still a cat." A pause. "Oh god, I'm sorry. Bad habit. Please continue with the broadcast." Would it be impolite to cover her face with her hands right now?