Definition: To split oneself into multiple bodies of shared mind, 
most commonly done by [REDACTED] and forcing the into the 
newly grown mouth, upon which the body splits seamlessly. 
Popularized by Don Giovanni Bosco, an 19th century Italian 
catholic priest. In a broader sense "boscovist" is used to describe a 
nosy, overbearing person, as in the children's rhyme "Boscovist, 
boscovist, where you look, there he is." 


Steam thoroughly vented, motivation completely drained, and 
confidence utterly dashed, Aldon sat atop the remains of the clay 
mountain. Hunger clawed at her stomach as doubt bit into her mind. 
The only thing to drag her from her melancholic haze was Everett 
gently nibbling on her finger. She looked down at the magical 
creature and groggily scratched behind his ear. 


"You hungry too, eh?" Everett made whatever noise ferrets make. 
Or maybe the noise polecats make. Or some weird mix of the two. 


Regardless of what the sound could be described as she took it as a 
"Yes," so Aldon collected him in her arms and marched over to the 
door. After jimmying it open with one hand she glanced around for 
someone to yell at, but found the place largely deserted. The walls 
had been completely painted, the mosaics had all been hung in 
place, and the pews were arranged as they should be. 


"Uh... Hello?" she called into the empty pseudo-church. "Fuck, how 
long was | in there?" 


From Nowhere stepped The Janitor, and with him The Critic. Felix 
called and waved and bounded over to her, a mix of excitement and 
worry in his voice and actions. He grinned and reached out to grab 
her shoulders but hesitated when Everett hissed at him. 


"Allie! You still have that. Hmm. But holy shit, you've been in there 
for ages. You... you didn't finish, did you?" 


"No, | still need to do the face. | just... dead in the water, y'know? 
Then | realized | was hungry, and figured | should probably fix that 
before | passed out or something." 


"Before you go, | want to see what you have so far." 


Aldon sighed and slowly trudged back toward the room with him. 
"It's really not that great. | dunno if | should keep working or just start 
over, but... it's kinda shit." 


The Critic gave her the same knowing look he had already given her 
so many times earlier, but for some reason she didn't want to sock 
him for it. It actually made her feel a little better. He threw the door 


open and peered inside the room for a moment. 
He laughed. "Allie, do you not like it?” 


She shrugged and felt her stomach clench from something other 
than hunger. "Not really.” 


"| like it, no major problems. If anything, | might complain it's too 
short." 


"What?" Aldon transferred Everett onto her shoulder and slipped into 
the room to act as a comparison. "No, look, it's too big. It's like nine, 
almost ten feet tall." 


"Well, | like it," he said with a tone of finality. "| even like how the 
face isn't really all that defined." 


"It's more just because | didn't finish than some intentional... thing," 
she admitted. 


"| think you should keep it like that. | think it's great as-is, honestly." 


The pit in her stomach slowly ebbed away, making the emptiness 
within all the more apparent. A long gurgling sound leaked from 
somewhere in her abdomen and she chuckled nervously. 


"Well, cool. |, uh. | guess | can go, then?" 


Felix nodded. "I'll get back to you when | can about your new body. 
Shouldn't take too long. Janitor, mind giving her a ride?" 


The being nodded and Aldon waved Felix off before stuffing Everett 
into her shirt. She closed her eyes and waited for the Way to open, 
and as she stepped forward she felt like she had really 
accomplished something. 


Maybe it really would be this easy. 


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Facetious Fanatics 


Jakeob Aldon squinted as The Janitor's Way collapsed behind her, 
nonlight from the being's personal space bathing her workshop in its 
ethereal unglow. She shivered, her shirt soaked with Everett. She 
gathered the hem in her hands and squeezed, wringing the ferret 
out of her clothing. It gathered in a puddle at her feet before 
morphing into its animal form. 


The Janitor's filter rattled for a moment as if drawing a breath to 
speak, and on the exhale the pressure it exuded on the room began 
to dissipate. She heard the door into the living room open and then 
shut, and the presence was gone completely. Now that the room 
was properly lit, her attention was drawn to the statue she had been 
working on over a week ago. It remained untouched after all that 
time, the clay and the magic within dried out. 


lt wasn't all that bad, really. The hands might have been a little 
small, and the jawline was just a tad over-defined. But all in all it was 
a decent sculpt. Aldon nodded to herself, mentally doing away with 
the baggage she had almost entirely forgotten about. 


She took a breath to say something, realized there was nobody to 
talk to, and simply let it out. It was an okay statue. She gave the 
okay statue a hug, resting her cheek on the flaky dome. She let out 
a half-satisfied sigh and inhaled clay dust. Perhaps it wasn't an okay 
statue. Maybe it was a stupid statue. She strengthened her grip on 
the stupid statue and lifted it. 


The suplex she had planned quickly failed as she recalled that not 
only were statues heavy, this specific one was weighed down by 
concrete. So rather than shatter her spine she swung her hips, 
tossing the dumb behemoth to the side. Clay flayed itself from the 
concrete base, and the right arm broke just above the elbow. 


Aldon stared at the mess she had made, guilt tearing at her 
stomach. No, wait, that was hunger. Probably. She paused at the 


door's threshold, wondering how long she had actually been gone. 
Probably a while. Everett nibbled at her ankle and she picked him 
up, then she opened the door. 


The living/bed/dining room was, for once, actually clean. Why this 
caused Aldon to panic she wasn't entirely sure, but for a good three 
seconds she was too confused to register the two other people in 
the room. One of them one was Finnegan, obviously. He lived here, 
it made sense. The man he was talking to, however, made much 
less sense being within Aldon's home. 


Daniel Navarro looked over at her and grinned his stupid, 
Foundation-employed grin. 


"The fuck are you doing here?" Aldon blurted out. 
"| live here," replied Finnegan. 
"Not you, you dumb asshole. Him! He's Foundation!" 


"Oh. Yeah, | know." Finnegan waved his hand at his roommate 
dismissively. Aldon stared at the metal gauntlet strapped to his wrist 
for a moment before glaring at Navarro some more. 


Navarro gave a friendly little wave. The fucker. "It's good to see you 
too, Allie." 


A comeback tried and failed to present itself. Aldon was finding it 
increasingly difficult to be angry with him, which only made her want 
to hate him more. The sentiment eventually collapsed in on itself, 
leaving only an empty sense of apathy that Aldon was all too familiar 
with. 


"Yeah, hi," she sighed. "What's with the power glove?" 
"What's with the polecat?" 

"The what?" 

Finnegan indicated Everett. "Your new friend." 


Aldon's voice hitched up an octave. "The ferret?" 


"| don't think that's a ferret." 
"Whatever. It turns into water. Now what's with the glove?" 


Finnegan stared at the creature for several seconds before 
shrugging. He held up his gloved hand, displaying his palm. He 
pulled at a cord sticking out of the back of the glove and spoke ina 
bad French accent. 


"Slap my hand." 


Aldon's hand rose slowly. Her eyes darted between the metal glove 
and Finnegan's face. A glance at Navarro only earned a stupid grin. 
She sighed and gave Finnegan a high-five. 


Or tried to, at least. Her hand came several inches short, smacking 
directly into physical noise. Nerves in her hand flared with confusion 
as they were bombarded with notes from various instruments. 
Neurons bounced back and forth with the beat as it delivered the 
messages to her brain. Lyrics bounced on her tongue for a moment 
while her brain tried to adjust to the synesthesia. She drew her hand 
back to stare at her palm, her body still tingling with solid echoes. 


"| think you just made me an audiophile. Do it again." 


"| don't know if repeated exposure is all that safe," Finnegan said. 
He thrust his hand high into the air when Aldon tried slapping it 
regardless. "Allie, no. Bad Allie. Down, girl." 


"Then at least tell me we have food," Aldon demanded, her arms 
entangled around his. 


"There's some leftovers from Uncle Larry's in the fridge, if you want 
ite 


Aldon extracted herself, clapping her hands quickly. She made a 
dash for the kitchen, and Everett sprang onto the counter. 


"You guys have an Uncle Larry's near here?" Navarro asked. 


Finnegan hesitantly lowered his hand. "Yeah, down on Sixth and... 
McClintock, | think. You know it?" 


"Never been myself, but | heard it's good." Navarro withdrew a pen 
and notepad from one of his pockets and jotted down a note to 
himself. He flipped it shut as Aldon pried open the microwave. "So. 
Allie. How did it go?" 


She set about nuking the food. "Pretty alright. Made a big statue for 
their dumb art cult." 


Navarro paused mid-scratch of his stubbled chin. "Art cult?" 


"Eh, they got a big church dealio going on," she said. She rested her 
elbow on the counter. "Nothing too fancy, some glowing glass and a 
bunch of pews." 


"And you sculpted a big statue of... what, exactly?" 


"Oh, dude, chill. | didn't make Cthulhu or some shit. Even if they lied 
and the clay was magic, the worst they're gonna have is a big 
faceless dude with shitty proportions." 


Navarro nodded. He rubbed the back of his neck and nodded again. 
"Yeah, alright. Well, we have their location and they don't seem to 
be on the verge of anything too dangerous." 


"Er, how-" The microwave started blaring before she could give 
voice to the question. She hit the stop button and popped open the 
door. "How do you know where they are?" 


Navarro smiled a smile that was significantly less friendly and much 
more mischievous than his previous smiles. Aldon's left lower eyelid 
twitched, and she was fairly sure it wasn't from the heat of the plate. 
Navarro grinned. 


"Goddamn wizards," Aldon muttered before slamming the 
microwave shut. "So, is that all? We good? Or do | need to infiltrate 
the CIA now?" 


"| actually spoke with the FBI about you,” he replied nonchalantly. 
He laughed at the look she gave him. "Don't worry, it's for your 
benefit.” 


It took a lot of concentration to not drop her plate. "Did- did you get 


clearance or whatever? Do | get magic thing?” 


He winced. "Unfortunately, no. While you aren't able to use any 
anomalies the Foundation currently has under lock and key, they're 
willing to look the other way if you do it yourself. So if you do find 
yourself to suddenly be in possession of two X chromosomes, the 
UIU has you covered. Turns out altering US government records is 
much easier when you actually work for the US government." 


"Oh." She set the plate on the counter. Her mouth danced left and 
right before she looked back up at him. "That's a start, right? More 
than | had. | guess that was always going to be an issue, it was just 
one of the issues that'd only come after | actually changed." 


"Yeah. You should be receiving contact info in the mail fairly soon. 
Other than that, all | can really say is stay out of trouble. Wouldn't 
want to have to come after you. Until then. Heheh." 


"What? Just like that, you're leaving?" 


He slid over to the door. "Yeah, figured I'd get out of your hair. I'm 
sure Finnegan's hospitality is running dry after all these hours. I'll be 
around, though. See you two later." 


Finnegan nodded and Aldon just waved dumbly as the agent left. 
Aldon stared at the door, the floor, at Finnegan, and then at her 
food. Maybe that was all there was to it. Mission Accomplished. She 
took a fork from the drawer and stabbed a piece of chicken. It tasted 
like victory. 


And it had a distinct aftertaste of her cellphone ringing. 

She dug into her pocket and brought it out, squinting at the tiny 
screen. It was Felix. Resisting the urge to growl at the device, she 
flicked it open and put one end to her ear. 


"Yo." 


"Allie! | need you to get to the Library ASAP, we have an issue- 
okay, an emergency and- holy fuck! Allie, hurry." 


"God fucking dammit." 


Aldon closed the phone and took a deep breath. She let it out, nice 
and slow. It would have been easy to just ignore it. Physically, at 
least. Ignoring the call required no actual effort on her body's part. 
Ignoring the look Finnegan was currently giving her, however, was 
much more difficult. 


Finnegan sauntered over and plucked some food from the plate. 
"Let me guess. They lied about it being magic clay?" 


"| don't know what the fuck they did, but they fucked it up. Par for the 
fucking course. Ugh. I'm too hungry and too tired for this." Aldon 
fingered her temples. "Our Way is fast, right?" 


"Relatively." 

"And we should probably help, right?" 

"As painful as I'm sure it will be, yes. Probably." 
Aldon sighed. "Fine. Fuck it. Let's go." 


Finnegan tilted his head. "Would you like to say fuck a few more 
times? Or have you gotten it out of your system?" 


"Fuck you," she spat. A small pause before, "Okay, yeah, that was 
the end of it." 


"Finish your food, I'll get the bottles of blood." 
"Okay, dad." 


She stabbed another piece of chicken and shuffled over to where 
Everett had taken perch. The polecat/ferret sniffed at her food and 
hissed. Aldon shrugged and tore into the food. Meanwhile, Finnegan 
grabbed a pair of small glass bottles from the bathroom, both full of 
blood. Aldon eyed her blood for a few seconds before continuing to 
eat. Finnegan then gathered up various CD cases and books, 
dumping them into an old black backpack of Aldon's. 


"Think that stuff will help?" Aldon asked. Finnegan shrugged. "Well, 
best to be prepared | guess. What about the golems? | could 
probably bludgeon Felix with those. And we should probably get 


something for a fight in general, | guess." 


Finnegan chuckled and gathered up the little humanoids. Nine of 
them now. He lowered them into the backpack. After glancing 
around the apartment for anything else that might be of use, 
Finnegan slung the pack over one shoulder. 


"We have surprisingly few weapons," he said. 


"Yeah, cuz you know what artists are known for. Owning tons of 
combat-ready weapons." 


"It was just an observation." 
She cocked a grin. "A dumb one." 
He cleared his throat. "...Yes." 


"Were you hoping to buy some time for a comeback?" she asked, 
sliding over to him with the bottles in hand. 


He tilted his head back and grimaced. "Maybe." 


She offered him the bottle containing her blood, which he snatched 
without making eye contact. Still giggling, Aldon popped the glass 
stopper out and dabbed her friend's blood onto her fingertips sans 
the thumbs. She slid it back into place and set the container on the 
counter. Finnegan did the same with the bottle containing her blood. 
Then they stared at each other for a few seconds. 


Finnegan glanced at her. "| hate you for this." 


Aldon just smiled, partially for what was to come, and partially 
because Everett had just clambered into the half-open backpack. 


They arranged themselves side by side with a few feet between 
them, both staring at the wall Finnegan's computer was situated 
against. Finnegan let out a sigh and Aldon bounced on her heels. 
He slid his arm through the second strap and pulled them both tight. 


In unison, they lifted their arms and held them away from each 
other, parallel to the ground. Still as one, they side-stepped toward