She was lucky that her roomie was gone by the time she reached 
her dorm. The girl was nice, but she, too, didn't seem like she knew 
what to do with Dahlia. She wasn't, like, scared to get undressed 
around her, like normal roommate things, but Dahlia always 
assumed the worst. And besides, she wasn't exactly into her whole 
crowd. A volleyball player. She didn't know college had jocks, but 
sometimes, small liberal arts colleges started to feel like high school 
with more drug use. 


The cardboard box resplendent in duct-tape had called out to her 
since she took it from the post office. It was the biggest, so it had to 
be the best. She could barely read anything on it, so it had be from 
Armand. Truthfully, she was amazed it had gotten there considering 
how illegible it was. But fucking with the US Mail System probably 
didn't take much magic. 


It was hard to tear through, given all the tape. But when she 
managed to get the thing open, it was filled with packing peanuts. 
Digging through, she pulled out a letter, covered in a scrawl so 
illegible as to be endearing, and the ugliest thing she had ever seen 
in her entire life. 


It was a statuette of the banana thing from peanut butter jelly 
baseball bat song or whatever. It was pure grey and smooth. She 
couldn't tell what stone it was made from, and she didn't really care. 
She put it on her desk and stared at it, eye-to-eye. Was this a troll? 
What the fuck was he trying to say? 


The note was nearly impossible to read, but she was able to glean 
meaning after a few reread. If she kept it at her desk, it would make 
people react to the, well, anomalous things that her other gifts might 
cause to be ignored by the regular people. Theoretically, he said it 
could also let her get away with doing weird things, same magic 
used in Mr. Normie. 


It was nice. But why did it have to be so ugly? He probably thought it 
was funny. It kind of was. 


After that, letters seemed safer. A lot of cards from relatives. The 
grandparents, the parents. Some of them even called her Dahlia, 
which was nice. Both grandparents still called her Jason, which was 
kind of a kick in the teeth, but she tried to focus on the positive. Like 
the fact that she got around two hundred dollars all in all from them. 
Money was the best gift, really. Especially from people who still 
called her Jason and probably wondered why she wasn't living as a 
man anymore. 


Two letters were from internet friends. Based on the completely 
blank nature of the first, she assumed it was JJ. Only he could get 
an unlabeled letter to her PO box through weird luck bullshit. The 
other was from PIC, which was nice. She assumed he would have 
forgotten. 


JJ's was a scratch-off lottery ticket. Unscratched, but she knew it 
was a winner. The message was simple and sweet. A happy 
birthday wish and telling her to spend it all in one place, as an order. 
She scratched it, and it was three thousand dollars. A winner. Not 


too big to get her on any luck radar, she assumed, but big enough to 
be a wild present. 


JJ was the fucking best. She held it to her chest. That was good. 
She needed the savings. School wasn't cheap, even after the 
scholarships. 


PIC's included a decal. A large, hideous transgender symbol done in 
the transgender flag colors. Her eyebrows shot up. It was certainly, 
well, nice of him? Maybe? But it was a bit ostentatious. Normally, 
Dahlia liked to just pass and maybe when she didn't just skirt under 
everyone's noses. But this was, well, this was a thing. 


The note said to put it on her laptop. He wouldn't tell her what it was, 
but it was connected to Andy's gift. He wouldn't say what. She 
sighed, wondered if Andressa knew that he put his magic on such a 
gaudy weird sticker, and affixed it to the back of her computer. It 
was the size of her fist. 


“Jesus Christ.” It had better be worth it. 


She moved back to the boxes after that. The envelope was from Eli. 
And of course, it was filled with every textbook she needed for her 
next semester. All new. Quite a bit of money. She wondered how it 
afforded that kind of thing. 


The note was simple: 


Your desire to learn reminds me of my best friend. It is 
the quality | have always admired the most in you, too. | 
will buy you any textbooks on the subjects you desire if 
you ask me. Books are much too expensive. Knowledge 
is important. 


| am glad you were born. 


Cute. It always said things so clearly, didn't it? She loved Eli, really. 
And it was that kind of thing that made her appreciate the big 
weirdo. Didn't it say it was a satellite? Who said shit like that? 
Maybe it was an auto-responder thing, like Li'l HAL. Only 
sometimes, though. But when would it be which? Whatever. 


The other box, surprisingly, was from L_G. She tore it open, and 
inside, there was a keffiyeh. Or, like, a scarf, really. Thin. The 
material was thin, and it was colorful. A lot of shapes. It was hard to 
look at. A lot of clashing colors. But more than that, she had to 
wonder, who put a scarf in a box? 


At the bottom, L_G left directions, more than anything. She wasn't 
big on ceremony. No birthday wishes from her, but still, the gift said 
it all. 


Wear this when you have a big test or something you'll 
get graded on. If the tester is there, and they see this, 
you are guaranteed a good grade. Theoretically, this 
may work in job interviews. | don't know. 


Do not wear it more than twice for one person. | am dead 
serious here. They will probably get brain cancer, or 
worst case scenario, they will go all Scanners and 
explode in the head. 


Dahlia kept the scarf in her hands for a moment, trying to 
understand the swirls that didn't make any sense. Did she sew this? 
Why would you give someone a gift that could give people cancer? 


She shoved it into her desk. Maybe she'd wear it one day. But right 
now, she didn't want to think about it. It was, well, a bit too much. 


Mail gone, she popped open her laptop to get the other kinds of gifts 
people sent her. Loads of wishes on the GAW channel, of course. 
She smirked. They renamed the channel topic Hetcopogg's Birthday 
Palace. She wasn't in the mood yet, of course. 


She opened her email. Two. One from an address that looked 
gobbledygook with an attachment. It didn't hit the filters, so it was 
probably from Jude or something. The second, of course, was from 
Andressa. 


She opened the one presumably from Jude first. Inside was an 
image attachment called hbd.jog, which she immediately opened. 
The image was a cake with nineteen candles, taken with a bad 
cellphone in bad lighting. 


Immediately, on her lap, there was a letter and an extremely fragrant 
blunt. It was wrapped green. Was that weed, too? There was a 
wrapper on the end, like on a cigar. It was the letters B and F done 
in ridiculous filigree. It looked like Jude had made it with a label 
maker or something. Did Jude have a labelmaker? Did magic people 
need those? What a fucking dork. 


The weed smell filled up the room quickly enough that she grabbed 
her roommate's air freshner and sprayed the room down. It still 
didn't work, so she put it in a baggie and then into her mini- 
refrigerator. That only sort of worked. 


Only then did she remember the letter. She unfolded the white stock 
and marveled at the handwriting. All in pencil, but it looked like it had 
been printed on a computer. Jesus, Jude really must be tidier than 
he came across. And then, she read. 


Happy Birthday, Dahlia. At least, | hope this is you. | got 
kkrule to help me attach this shit to an image. You could 
theoretically be, like, anyone who looked at it, | guess, 
but you should probably delete it hardstyle when you're 
done so, like, some janitor doesn't get to read the 
birthday wishes I'm about to give you. 


| hope the guys gave you some good shit. Don't get 
offended if bones didn't get you anything. Sometimes it 
just forgets human things. Even though, | think I'm kinda 
sure it's a human? Maybe sometimes a robot. But who 
isn't? L_G told me about her gift, actually. Kinda wild. | 
don't know if you need it, though. You've always been 
the most level-headed out of all of us. You're smart is 
what | mean. To be honest, | don't know what level- 
headed is supposed to mean. That and even-keeled. 
Like who fucking is level. No one's level. 


Sorry. Started rambling. Kind of got a speech to pencil 
thing going here. | didn't want my gift to you to be all 
magic and shit, but | also wasn't exactly feeling writing a 
whole bunch. My handwriting's horrible. Like you saw 
harmpit's, right? Fucking wildstyle bad. Imagine that but 
worse and also it's in cursive. That's me. Yeah, welcome 


needle-like teeth which are coated in an unknown paralyzing agent. 


Colony: SCP-995-C 

Discovered: 1/02/08 

Number of Specimens: 264 

Description: SCP-995-C are black in color and range from 5 
centimeters to 20 centimeters in diameter at mature age. 

Special Characteristics: SCP-995-C are the smallest in size and 
are able to expel a highly acidic chemical from their 4 eyes. 


Colony: SCP-995-D 

Discovered: 5/30/11 

Number of Specimens: 23 

Description: SCP-995-D are dark red in color and range from 10 
centimeters to centimeters in diameter during mature age. 
Special Characteristics: SCP-995-D are able to emit a variety of 
noises which vary from ringtones to a human infant's cry. It is 
presumed that these sounds are made to lure prey in SCP-995-D's 
area where a group of them would attack. SCP-995-D seems to be 
the most advanced in behavior and intelligence. 


« SCP-994 | SCP-995 | SCP-996 » 


to hell is right. 
And then | started rambling again. Sorry. 


Listen, Dahlia. | think, out of all of them, you're the most 
like me. And I'm so happy you've decided to stay with us. 
I'm so happy you've managed to find what seems to be 
pretty serious shit loveways with a person who's really 
cool. We're all insufferable show-offs who make bad 
jokes, but yours have always been the best. Because 
they're honest. They're homemade and, well, rooted ina 
place that isn't a magic dickwaving contest. I've always 
appreciated that about you. You've kept us grounded 
more than you could ever realize. 


| thought real hard about what to give you for your 
birthday. | thought about maybe giving you The Surgery 
magic ways. | mean, I've done it before in reverse. It was 
on myself, but like, it's gotta be pretty much the same 
thing, right? But that's, like, wild invasive. And kind of 
weird, right? I'd've asked of course, but like, fuck. | 
wanted this to be about you. | wanted you to give you 
something made by me that took actual effort. Not just 
some handwaves and an idea about how you want to 
live your life. 


Besides this letter. But like | said, I've always been really 
bad at the whole handwriting thing. 


The weed is really good. | bought it. | don't make weed, 
because it never tastes right. Or maybe | don't think it 
tastes right. Sometimes, my magic doesn't make sense. | 
got the wrap from the store. It's weed wrapped in weed. | 
could tell you what the strain is called and everything, but 
that's just about as dickwavey as if | had magicked it. 


| rolled it for you. They used to call me The Roller, you 
know, in my life before. | don't smoke a lot of blunts 
anymore. Which is funny, because you know, the name. 
I've always been told mine were the best though. 


There's no magic on it. Be careful where you smoke it. 
Keep your head down. | don't want my gift to get you in 
trouble. But | also want you to be able to relax. You doa 
lot of work keeping us all grounded. And | think having 
the moodiest significant other in the world (no offense of 
course to the beloved GCM) entitles you to get real high 
on a night of your choosing. 


You're special to all of us, Dahlia. I'm happy you stayed, 
and | want you to know that | would bend the earth and 
the sky if you ever asked it of me. 


JK (BF) 


For the longest time after she read it, Dahlia stared at the computer 
in front of her without seeing. She didn't cry, but she wanted to. Jude 
thought highly of her. She knew, deep down, they all cared about 
her, but to see it always made her feel so good. 


And they were the same, weren't they? In so many ways. Magic or 
not, gender assignments at birth were bullshit, and that was 
something they could always agree on. She made a note to thank 
him, to thank all of them, but first, she had to see what Andressa 
had gotten her. 


The email was blank. A single attachment. An executable file. It was 
a string of letters and numbers. She clicked it, opened it, and ran it. 


Her screen went wavy. She bit her lip, hoping Andy didn't fuck up 
the hard drive on something stupid again. The screen dissolved into 
darkness, as though turned off, but the surface rippled before giving 
way to an extremely untidy bedroom. The window was open. Breeze 
blew in, and there, sitting at the desk and staring at the computer, 
was Andressa. 


“Happy birthday, Dahlia! | love you.” 
“You got me full-screen skype for my birthday?” 


Andy only smiled. And that was when they reached forward through 
the screen and took hold of Dahlia's hand. Dahlia, of course, 


screamed, and then she fell hard on her ass, and then she laughed. 
“This is like a stand,” Dahlia said. “We have a stand.” 

“PIC helped me out. | did the tech shit. He did the magic.” 

“He put the magic on a giant trans flag sticker, my dude.” 


Andressa laughed and managed to stick their face through screen. 
Their lips touched briefly, before Dahlia pulled back. A portal. She 
had a portal to her significant other. Anytime she wanted. Sure, she 
couldn't fit through it. But it was so nice and thoughtful. And so 
magic. 


“I'm so happy to see you,” Andy said. “| mean, we've seen each 
other. But fuck, girl, your hands are so cold. Get some fucking 
gloves. Damn. Your hair looks better in person.” 


Dahlia blushed and punched the skinny hacker through the 
computer screen. Gentle, but Andressa wasn't exactly tough. “Not 
everyone is lucky enough to live in a place that isn't a winter 
shithole.” 


“In no world is it lucky to live in New Mexico.” But they were smiling. 
“I'm glad you're happy. | wanted to give you something not, you 
know, weird, like this. But | knew you'd like it.” 


“| love it.” A pause. “I love you.” And another pause, “Can you hold 
some weed for me?” 


“What?” 


“Yeah, Jude gave me this huge blunt, and I'm afraid to keep it in my 
dorm. Your mom's cool with that, right?” Dahlia took it out of the 
freezer and tossed the gigantic thing through the screen into Andy's 
hands. They smelled it, made a noise of appreciation, and tossed it 
onto the nightstand next to them. 


“He doesn't fucking skimp, does he?” 


“No, he doesn't.” And Dahlia leaned forward to kiss Andy as her 
roommate walked in. 


Andressa looked out in fear at the doorway. Dahlia only shook her 
head and mouthed the word “harmpit.” 


Her roommate, however, only blushed. “Oh gosh, I'm sorry. | didn't 
mean to butt in on anything, honest.” 


“It's okay. | was just going. Talk to you later, Andy. | got my anthro 
class in twenty, and | gotta get some food. Oh, by the way, this is 
Andy. Andy, this is Daisy, my roommate.” 


“Hi!” called Andressa from the computer, sticking their hand out to 
offer Daisy a handshake. She took it, as though it was a natural 
thing. “See you, girls. Have a good one!” 


Daisy smiled, and Dahlia gathered her books for her next class, slid 
on her coat, and made her way outside her dorm into the cold. 


What's In A Name?