#because I am a weird and unusual creature :D

[squishysphealgirl]

meow

MYORP!!

[doodlegraveyard]

Could you explain the sorcerers a bit more to me? I'm not familiar with DnD. Do they draw power from the creatures that patron? Or are you a witch until you find a patron? And that's an official thing to do right? So are there a lot of witches that could be sorcerers but they don't have the resources?

Hmm…….kind of??

Basically what warlocks and clerics in D&D have in common is that they get their power from a relationship they have with an external force - a god in the case of a cleric, and a demon/devil/fae/eldritch abomination for warlocks. Their powers are contingent on the magic user fulfilling their end of the bargain, basically - clerics have an oath and warlocks have a pact/contract, and failure to adhere can result in the god/patron punishing the user by nerfing some of their power or even breaking the connection entirely

My concept for how I’m structuring the magic system for this rewrite really relies on being able to juxtapose fairy vs witch, which left the wizards as a weird third thing that I don’t really think canon has a guiding principal for the category other than ‘any of the men ones who do magic are wizards’ which I kind of find annoying and doesn’t work because I am making fairy/witch status gender agnostic.

((I accidentally wrote too much oop))

This gets into the whole theory of how magic has to work in this world, which is still getting worked out, but basically every living person in the magical universe has a potential to do, at least a tiny bit of magic - because everyone has a spark of the great dragon that gave them the gift of life. However that’s not really enough to do much - a normal persons life force will normally never give them energy to do more than really minor little charms, and even that would take a lot of time and dedication as well as just natural talent. But basically most people’s energy is used up just making them an alive person with a soul so externalizing it is really hard. That’s normal, and people like that, even with minor magics aren’t really considered anything.

Fairies are people born with an unusually exceptional store of magic. They naturally generate more energy, to the point that they not only Can they do noticeable magic, but they Must - a fairy that doesn’t learn to use their magic is at risk to start using it accidentally, and catastrophically. They literally have too much juice and need to let it off. Wings are a physical manifestation of their magic and the signs they will develop wings are visible from birth, so future-fairies are easily identifiable

Witches, basically, have the normal human amount of magic (ie not much) but draw energy from their surroundings. In extremes, witches can drain the energy from plants, animals, other people - which is part of the reason they’re often reviled. But a lot of the time that’s not the case - however society fears them on that principal. They ‘take what isn’t theirs’ because they weren’t born fortunate enough to be a fairy, is basically how a lot of people see it. Witches have been around forever so of course there are traditions and spells and rituals to get more energy passed down in areas where there are enough witches to do so, but also, plenty of young witches start instinctively feeding off their environment completely accidentally, which kind of draws into question if people are ‘born witches’

You’re right in that sorcerers and patrons imply status and resources - you could definitely have a witch who wants to become a sorcerer, but in this world its likely if you were doing enough magic to be considered a witch already, most Sorcerer Orders probably wouldn’t take you? And a lot of witches wouldn’t be interested in what sorcerers have going on, because I imagine their rites are like, a religious order. You are basically dedicating your life to the order, and making an oath that will permanently bind you to your Source, and if you betray your Oath the order can sever you and leave you without any power anyway.

Basically in a world what’s classified Fairies as people who are Supposed to Have Power and Witches as people who are Not Supposed to have power but Take it anyway probably for nefarious selfish evil reasons, Sorcerers Orders were created as a way to have a system to be able to get more people with magic who were a part of and controlled by the social order (rather than Suspicious and Outside the social order)

[demonslayedher]

"Grandpa Kokushibo" AU

This started as a simple little joke in those Muichiro doodles. And then it was just supposed to be a simple little drabble. A simple little Crack Fic. But next thing you know...

------

“You… you are my descendent…”

“…huh…”

Six flaring eyes loomed over Tokito, the two in the middle etched with writing. Upper Moon… One…

“Those eyes…”

Having been so locked on the demon’s eyes, he didn’t realize at first that it was talking about his own. “…huh…?”

“…They’re red… a sign… a Kakushaku-no-Ko… you have… potential…”

“……huh…..”

“Become… a demon…”

“…huh………. Huh!?”

With little recourse to convince the demon to leave like he might attempt with a bear or a boar, Tokito brought the demon home. “Sweetheart? I, uh… a relative of mine is visiting.”

His wife, whose complexion was lovely even without the luxuries of make-up, smiled up sweetly from where she knelt, with their two young sons asleep on the futon before her. “You still have family? What happy news---”

The demon, Kokushibo, bowed lowly so that he could fit inside the door. “Good evening,” he said.

“…G…Good evening,” she gawked, her soft green eyes wide and locked. “A… a pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure… is mine.”

“Uh, so, it seems this is my great-grandfather of sorts. A great many ‘greats.’ A few centuries’ worth of ‘greats.’ What a coincidence that we’ve just run into each other.”

“It’s no… coincidence. I have… always been searching… for Sun Breath users…”

Tokito smiled with his face like puddy. “Sun Breath? What’s that?”

“…to kill them…”

Tokito and his wife shared a “ghh!!” as their throats tightened.

“I did not expect… to find the remains of the Tsugikuni Clan… out here… in this… dump…”

“I, uh, I sort of recall that name being way back in the family. But on the wrong side of the war, you know? We haven’t been a warrior clan since the start of Edo times.”

“A pity… but… no matter… you will have… a greater master to serve…”

“Um! Uh! Would you like to meet your grandsons?”

“Honey, what are you—”

Six eyes widened. “Grandsons?”

“I have twin boys! I’m busy raising them, I don’t have any time for swordsmanship, haha! All I know how to do is swing an ax.”

“Heirs… are important… they’ll do no good… as children… You,” he looked to Tokito’s wife, whose eyes were swirling trying to follow his gaze. “You do it. You raise them. I’ll… train my descendent…”

“Train…?”

“You may have… the ability… to attain the Breath… of the Sun…”

“D---di---di—didn’t you say you were going to kill S-S-Sun Breath users?”

“Why would I… kill my descendent…?”

Tokito was doing his best, but he was hitting his limits for how many more surprises he could take that evening. “Listen, I… I only want what’s best for my family. I want to watch my sons grow up, and teach them how to live a simple life out here in nature. Ancestor or not, we want nothing to do with demons.”

“My dear,” his wife said, some surprised admiration in her tone.

“I have to ask you to leave.”

“I cannot.”

“You will take ‘no’ for an answer!”

“I cannot,” Kokushibo stressed. “The sun is rising. Sunlight… will kill me…”

“…ah… oh. That’s a problem.”

“I’ll remain… here…”

“I’m sorry, I can’t have you do that. You’re a demon, and—”

“Defy me… and I will kill your family.”

“---GHH!” the Tokito couple swallowed harder.

----- The boys woke up to find a demon quietly sitting cross-legged in the corner. Yuichiro cried, Muichiro stared. Tokito didn’t want to scare them, however rightfully they should be, so he smiled and introduced the demon as their grandfather. Kokushibo politely bowed his head. The boys were quickly accepting. In his heart, Tokito cried and begged the forgiveness of his religious parents for not teaching them a proper distaste for evil.

In a battle of will, Tokito would be easily outmatched. But for however many years Kokushibo had on him, he didn’t seem like a quick thinker. Tokito might be able to beat him in a battle of wits. He had an ability that was sure to ward Kokushibo off, if only he could wield it with the right timing.

“If you leave me no choice, Grandfather, then I guess I must learn this Sun Breathing swordsmanship you keep talking about! Maybe you’re right, maybe I do have potential! I’d like to think all my practice cutting down trees makes me adept with a blade,” he smiled, his hands proudly at his hips. “Will you take a look this evening?”

“Yes… I eagerly await… seeing your potential… my descendent…”

Tokito grinned. He couldn’t wait either. In the meantime, Yuichiro and Muichiro spent the daylight hours at either side of the unusual houseguest.

“Grandpa, you have flames on your face. Do those hurt?”

“They do not…”

“You have as many eyes as a bug. Why do you have so many eyes?”

“Because… I am… a demon…”

“It looks gross. With all those eyes, can’t you see it looks gross?”

“I can see… a great many things…”

“Why are there eyes on your sword? Can your sword see?”

“My sword is made with… my blood… its eyes… are my eyes…”

“Is your sword a bug?”

“What’s its name?”

“Kyokokukamusari.”

“Kyokko…”

“Kyokyaku…”

“Kyokyakoku…”

“Kyokukuka…”

“Your tongues… are young.”

When evening fell, Tokito put his plan into action. It took no special effort on his part, all he had to do was trust himself.

“Yahh! Yaahh!” he yelled as he swung his ax. “Yaah! Yar! Yagh! Yuh!! Ya—AHHH!” he spun around and fell down, nearly lopping off his own arm. Perfect!

All of Kokushibo’s eyes, even the ones down his sword were blazing on him, and he waited for Kokushibo’s reaction. There was no fooling those eyes, which made Tokito’s plan all the better.

That demon would know!

“You are very…”

“Yes?”

“Clumsy.”

Precisely! This would chase that pesky demon off, wouldn’t it?

“I can see… it will take… many years… to train you…”

…no.

-----

The centuries had made Kokushibo resilient to setback, and time flowed at a different pace for him. “Become a demon now… and you will have… all the time you need… to attain… Sun Breathing…”

“Now, now wait!” Tokito waved his arms. He had taken the full next day to get his wits rounded back up, while Kokushibo resided indoors again patiently allowing the curious bos to poke the eyes of his sword, proving to them he was too powerful to be harmed by their tiny fingers. Yuichiro contemplated poking Kokushibo in one of the eyes on his face, but he hesitated when all six were focused on him, and he cried and buried his face behind his hands. “Wait. Wait. You can wait, can’t you?”

“Wait… for what?”

“If it’s inevitable that I have to become a demon, can’t you wait for me to be a human longer?”

“What good is there… in being human?”

“I want to watch my boys grow up!”

“I am a demon… I see them… perfectly fine.”

“Well, I mean, but, no, I mean, like, out there, having a normal family life with them. Working in the mountains, coming home, making food.”

“A human body… is weak… and will starve… without food… A waste… of time… to constantly…. work… for… Your body… will grow old… and frail… Become a demon… and these concerns… will vanish…”

“You—you make a compelling argument, Grandfather. But being human is good too!”

“How… is being human… better… than being… a demon?”

“I, well… is… isn’t it weird to learn Sun Breathing if I can’t see the sun?”

The demon’s eyes, every last one of them, went wide. Tokito had him! “You’re… right…” he said, stunned.

“Haha, oh, Grandfather! It’s been so long since you’ve seen it that you must had forgotten about it! All the creatures of this world are meant to be touched by the sun’s rays, it’s the natural way of things. It’s a blessing.”

“Sun Breathing… may require… practice… under the sun…”

“Haha, it may take a while, but I guess I’ll have to do my best on my own.”

“I will… train you… at night… and by day… you will train… under the sun…”

-----

The arrangement seemed to be working a while. Whether Tokito trained during the day or not (he did not), his progress was slow. His wife had come to get accustomed to the situation, knowing she had to make the best of it until the demon hopefully got bored and left. Having the boys so entertained during the day helped her get a lot of extra work done around the house.

“Grandfather,” she addressed him. “We got a great catch for dinner tonight, look at the size of this fish! What part of the fish is your favorite? I’ll serve that part for you.”

“Demons… do not eat… fish…”

“Oh, how rude of us. What would better suit your tastes?”

“Demons… do not consume… human food… we would… vomit it…”

“Ahhh… oh. Well, we can’t have that.”

“Grandpa. Grandpa,” Muichiro tugged at his hakama. “Then what do demons eat?”

“Humans.”

Muichiro stared, and after what felt like a long time in human experience, his face flushed and his eyes welled with tears. Yuichiro pinched his cheek. “Don’t cry, stupid. He’s only teasing you.”

“…oh,” Muichiro, red-faced and cheek still stretched smiled with relief.

Their mother, meanwhile, was blanched white, the fish still flopping around in her stiff hands.

--

“You’re not… making much… progress… could it be… you’re not… practicing… in daylight…?”

“Ah, ahhhh, yes, I’m afraid not,” Tokito sweated profusely. “That… that’s just part of being human. There’s so much work to do all day and then I have to sleep through so much of the night. I may never learn swordsmanship at this rate, hahaha!”

“Then hurry… and become a dem—”

“S-Sure must had been nice to be in a samurai clan back in your day, huh? Servants to do all the tedious chores and stuff so you could focus and train! May, maybe it’d be nice to hear some stories about when you were growing up! The boys would love to know their family history too, I’m sure!”

“…what chores…?”

“Oh, haha, oh, Grandfather! Did you not even know what chores were? What a charmed life—”

“What chores?” he stressed.

“Uhh---well---chopping trees, mostly.”

“Your ax… hand it to me…”

“Uhh… yes, sir.”

“I will chop your trees… so you… may advance… in your training…”

“Ye… yes, sir.”

-----

They had an excess of very high-quality wood on a regular basis. It sold so well on Tokito’s occasional trips into town that he found himself with more money than he ever had in his life. “Use it… to buy food…” Kokushibo instructed him. “Nourish your family… with it… buy warmer clothes… save your labor…”

Tokito had been raised being told that demons were evil, but he began to question that. They were all part of a world beyond humans, populated by Buddhas and Tengu and foxes, who was to say that their nature was entirely evil?

All at once, one night after months of the demon’s constant presence, he disappeared. Tokito and his wife cried with relief, and Tokito vowed to use the gifts the supernatural ancestor bestowed on them to raise his family well, and to never forget humility in the face of things outside their human experience.

But then he came back the following night.

“G-Grandfather,” he trembled. “Y-y-you’re back.”

“I went out… to feed. Now… continue… your practice…”

Inside, his wife cried on behalf of them both, for Tokito was too scared to anything but obey.

-----

Two years went by. With no choice, Tokito could not help that his swordsmanship improved. “Hhm,” Kokushibo nodded with approval. “Soon… I shall… find you a sword… no longer… a wooden one…”

“Aw, you don’t need to trouble yourself, Grandfather!”

“It is… no trouble… to steal one…”

“Well, what I mean is, I’m still so clumsy! Hahaha! Sure would be a waste of effort to kill myself by accident, wouldn’t it?”

“Hmm… you are right…”

“Hahaha!”

“I will… make you a demon first…”

“No! No, wait! I’ll keep practicing, I’ll keep practicing! Let’s hold off on a real sword until I’m ready!”

“You are… delaying… the inevitable…”

“And you are exceedingly patient, Grandfather!”

“That person… is not… so patient… he watches… and tells me… to hurry… and be done… with you…”

“Ghh!” he gulped as he went pale. He should never had forgotten his humility facing that which was outside human experience.

“Gra-a-a-a-nd-paaaa!” came a voice at the door of the hut. “Come fold origami with us!”

“I would… rather play Go…” the demon answered as he turned around and answered the summons.

“Go is boring!”

“You will… appreciate it when you are older…”

His wits. Tokito had to keep thinking with his wits.

-----

Another year went by. Kokushibo remained outwardly patient, but once again made mention of ‘that person.’

“He has… more tasks for me… than to be here… tonight… I will grant you his blood…”

“Wait! Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!” Tokito raised his voice at him. This was it. He had to enact his next plan. “What are all these ‘tasks’ anyway? You still take plenty of time away to be a hitman, what else could he possibly have you do?”

Kokushibo answered very simply. “Look for… the blue… spider lily.”

“Ha! Spider lilies aren’t blue, everyone knows that,” sneered Yuichiro.

“The spider lilies are all dead,” said Muichiro. “It’s winter.”

If Kokushibo had twelve eyebrows, he would had raised them in their direction. “I… see… winter… of course… they must… be seasonal…”

“Are you senile, Grandpa? Of course they’re seasonal. They only grow in autumn.”

“You see big patches of them all of a sudden!”

“Autumn… of course… how could I… had forgotten…”

“That’s to be expected, don’t be so hard on yourself, Grandfather,” Tokito’s wife sweetly smiled to him. “They’re a daytime flower, it must be so long since you’ve seen them.”

“Daytime… yes… of course… they’re under… the sun… no wonder… it’s been… impossible… for demons… for a thousand… years… that person’s… blood… is swelling… within me… with… frustration…”

With the rising tenseness in Kokushibo’s voice, Tokito’s muscle sprung with their own tension. “N-no wonder! How sad! How sad that demons can’t go under the sun! I hope I never—”

“That person… will give you… more time. For you… must search… in the daytime…”

“Ghh…” he swallowed. “Y… yes, sir.”

“That’s stupid,” said Yuichiro. “You’re not going to find any in winter.”

“Yes… it’s stupid. You will… search next autumn… and train… until then… and…”

“……….and……….?”

“Play… Go… with me. These rascals… have no… appreciation for… Go…”

“It’s boring, Grandpa!”

“I’m trying, I can’t remember all the rules!”

“Let’s play Shogi instead!”

“Fine… lay the board… let’s play Shogi…”

-----

Two more years passed. Tokito had reprieve from his training during the autumns to search for the blue spider lilies, and one untimely fall in those searches gave him a much longer reprieve from training. His leg was badly broken, and he spent most of the winter bedridden.

“Haha… I’m still so clumsy…” he laughed, covering up that he also wanted to cry.

“And now we have to do all your work,” grumbled Yuichiro.

“Are you still in pain, Dear?”

“A… a lot, yes…”

“Become… a demon…”

“N-no! I’m still so clumsy, I haven’t mastered any of the Sun Breath yet!”

“I don’t want Daddy to get hurt anymore,” Muichiro said with tear-stained eyes. “Next autumn, I’ll go look for the flowers instead.”

“Ghh!” Tokito and his wife looked to him, helpless to tell their son to stop.

“Very good… a good child…” Kokushibo patted his head. “You will… be useful… to that person… too…”

It had to stop. Tokito needed to hurry and eliminate this demon, for the sake of his family.

-----

The following autumn, his leg still bothered him. On most days it was fine, but when it rained or when he climbed too stiff of an incline, the pain kept coming back. He could not use it as any excuse to skip his training, though, for Kokushibo would use that as an excuse to rip him from his humanity.

He kept up the training, as well as ventured out through the mountains to search, and ventured down the mountain periodically to sell the wood that Kokushibo cut. On one of those trips into town, he overheard the gossip.

“I heard it was demons.”

He froze to the spot and listened. He knew it wasn’t Kokushibo, for he was careful not to cause any incidents that would inconvenience the Tokito family—a strange thing that Tokito was sorry for being grateful for. But, perhaps if an incident had occurred closer to them, he’d have heard the following gossip sooner.

“The Demon Slayers are sure to catch it.”

“Demon Slayers?”

“Swordsmen with the sun in their blades, they fight with Breaths to take those monsters down.”

Breaths! Like Sun Breathing!

“Um!” he butted in. “How can I find these Demon Slayers?”

“How? We don’t know. Do you have a demon on your hands, Tokito?”

“…Ghh!... N… No…” he bit his lip and rolled his eyes back to avoid looking at them as he lied.

Maybe there was someone out there who could help him. But how would he find them without raising Kokushibo’s suspicion? The stress made it hard for him to sleep and gave him headaches. His could not risk any talk of this at home, but his sweet wife could see how it pained him, and she whispered with a light cough to let her and the boys take care of searching for the blue spider lilies.

-----

His wife fell ill. A common thing, for humans.

“I’m sorry, Grandfather. For now while I’m still human, I still have human responsibilities to my family. I need to find medicine for her. I’ll be back after I go fetch a herb that will help.”

“You know not where… to find… the blue spider lily… but know… the location… of… a little… herb…?”

“Yes. I’ll be right back.”

“It’s… raining…”

“I know exactly where it is.”

“Where… is it…”

“It grows on the side of a cliff near here.”

“You… know… of plants… on a cliff… but not… the blue… spider lilies…? You… wreak… of… a liar…”

Tokito ran cold.

“And… to think… someone… as… clumsy… as you… would… try… in this… weather…? You…”

This was not the time for everything to crash and fail. His wife’s lungs were in a bad state, if Kokushibo were to do something to him now—

“…are… more… idiotic than I thought… stay here… my… stupid descendent. No wonder… you take… so long to progress…”

The demon very soon returned, unbothered by how his clothes and hair left dripping wet pools throughout their home. He did not know which herb it was so he had cleaned the cliffs of them, allowing Tokito to sort through and pick out the ones that would help. Tokito made them into a medicine to treat his wife, and while it eased her coughing over the following day, she was still in a worrisome state. Kokushibo rolled all six eyes before leaving again that night, returning very close to dawn with his hands full of medicines. “Something… in these… ought to do it…”

It took a little careful trial and error, but a few of them turned out to be very effective, and she soon made a complete recovery.

And now, Tokito had a debt to pay.

-----

He made progress in Sun Breathing. Something was breaking through, making sense in his muscles. Kokushibo watched all the more silently with each night. They both had the sense that there was a change coming soon. Tokito was on the last of his wits.

The time Kokushibo spent around his sons, influencing them… it likewise had to end.

“Grandfather,” he asked, his forehead against his thumbs. “Where do we go once I can no longer be in the sun?”

“You can reside here… as long as that person… allows you to… you want… to watch over your sons… do you not…?”

“I don’t know that much about demons. But if I become one, they’ll be in danger, won’t they?”

“…I will make certain… no harm… will come to your family…”

Tokito closed his eyes with a sigh. “Thank you.”

“Of the two of them… Muichiro… may also… be of use… to that person…”

“Ghh!” his whole chest tightened as much as his throat.

He had let this go on too long. How could he find them? How could he find the Demon Slayers? How could he do without ‘that person’ knowing?

----- The sun! Whatever action he took, it had to be under the protection of the sun!

“Tokito, good to see you!”

“It’s been months!”

“You had us worried.”

And humans! There was a strength in humans he couldn’t forget, and must always find himself humbled by. Anything he could ever accomplish on his own was so small, but with the help of more people! “Thank you for keeping us in mind! My wife fell ill a while, but she’s recovered now.”

“Psst. Are you still, you know?”

“You know?” another one asked, biting her lip and rolling her eyes back a second. “You know?”

“Ah… ah!! Yes!”

“Not to worry, lad,” an old man patted his shoulder. “Your family’s fallen on hard times, and that’s a shame. We’ve spread word of your family, and it’ll reach the right ears soon.” With a grin, the old lady next to him pointed to a crow flying overhead.

“Ahhh!” his eyes watered, and he bowed so low his face nearly hit his knees. “Thank you so much!”

“Hold your head up, young man. Do your roots proud!”

Yes. Even if his roots were Kokushibo, he could not allow himself to lose his humanity. There was still hope!

-----

Tokito had to protect his family. This Breath had a power, a power strong enough to make ‘that person’ want to rid the world of anyone who could use it. Maybe it was ungrateful to hone it as a gift to his eventual rescuers, a weapon that they might use.

A weapon they might use against Kokushibo, the ancestor who had spent years teaching it to him.

After a long day of training in the rays of the sun and well into the night, Tokito returned to his home, already dark inside. Muichiro and Yuichiro were wrapped up in their futon and using Kokushibo’s knees for pillows. All six of his eyes opened slowly, focused solely on Tokito. “You’ve… grown much stronger… it’s time soon… for a sword…”

-----

A knock came at the door. “That’s odd,” his wife blinked her big green eyes to it. They were not used to visitors.

“I’ll get it!!” Tokito shouted with a smile and bounded over to it. Their cry for help had been answered! It had to be buff, strong swordsmen, ready to rescue them and eliminate the demon—

He pulled wide the door, and against the light, there was the silhouette of two small children, and a demure lady in a traveling kimono.

No, this was wrong. Something was wrong. There was something special about these people, but they were not the Demon Slayers he waited for. As his breath tightened, the woman searched his face with growing concern. One of the children at her side looked inside the house, starting first on the woman with the big green eyes, and then the two identical children with long hair, staring back at the door while their Go board was illuminated by the outside light, and then to the dark corner of the house, where a demon sat and stared back.

“Ubu… ya… shi… ki?”

-----

(((And then, the author who only wanted to write a short crack fic, put the fic away, scared by the evil she had unleashed.)))

[utilitycaster]

Actual Play: How it works

This is a collection of how I think of actual play as a medium, because TTRPG actual play is a unique one - a combination of improvisation, a rule set, and randomizing elements. This isn’t fully comprehensive, and I may add to it in the future as I come up with more ideas. I’m also thinking of providing some examples/more in-depth stuff for the items in separate posts, so please let me know if that’s something you would want.

Most of the observations here heavily skew towards D&D and Pathfinder actual play, as they are what I know best. Other systems I’ve listened to (PbtA, Cortex, Savage Worlds) fit in here as well, but this may not apply to all actual play, particularly GM-less games or games that are primarily played as one-shots.

Finally, and I say this only because it is a recurring problem on the social media that I happen to find incredibly irritating: you are also welcome and encouraged to have other opinions, disagree with me, dislike all of this, etc. If you have things to say, my inbox is the best place; this is too long for multiple reblogs and this is a sideblog so replies are tricky. However, if you are the kind of person who is inclined to say things like “Actually, there was an exception to this rule! It’s in the backmasked audio at 06:59:32 in the outtakes of episode 192c of Dungeons and Discotheques! :)” I would like to provide you with this actual play line quote from Adaine Abernant in Fantasy High: I think that you feel like you have a lot to offer, and please take this the right way... you don't.

Onto the thoughts, below the jump!

On narrative devices and rules and the random element:

Foreshadowing is possible, but limited to specific circumstances. A GM can (and should) foreshadow! The point of foreshadowing is to set expectations, and GMs should have hints that indicate things about the world that the party may encounter later, provide potential plot hooks, or otherwise provide the party with information. Similarly, players can do things that nod towards as of yet unrevealed elements of their backstories. However, it is impossible to deliberately foreshadow plot resolutions, because it is unknown what they will be. That doesn’t mean that in retrospect things may happen that echo back to earlier events, but the intent to foreshadow was not there - it’s a happy accident.

I don’t want to say normal narrative rules don’t apply because what are the normal narrative rules, really? However, I think an important thing to emphasize is that narrative satisfaction is not guaranteed. This is especially true if the cast has agreed character death is an option, but even beyond that, an unlucky or lucky roll can seemingly cut an arc short or take things in a weird and unforeseen direction. Because there is an element of randomness, randomness will occur. This, along with the character agency I discuss later, is one of my favorite things about actual play. It strips out the need for a moral or message or specific beats - not that those can’t arise, but they can’t be forced - and as such it can make for unusual, creative, and very true-to-life stories even in a fantasy setting.

On character role, viewpoint and agency:

Actual play stories have an ensemble of viewpoint characters (the PCs). This is perhaps the clearest restriction that exists, at least in all of the game systems I’ve mentioned. There is no good way to depict NPCs acting on their own unless the PCs have a way to observe them, unseen (magical or mundane). It is extremely difficult to have one player play multiple PCs, and if a player leaves there is not a good way to recast their PC. This doesn’t mean NPCs can’t do things with each other offscreen that have implications for the story, nor that PCs can’t come and go or become NPCs, but it does mean a good GM is very careful about NPC interactions because it gets very boring and non-collaborative very quickly to watch someone talk with themselves.

The PCs hold a level of agency that characters in other media do not. Statements about how the characters have a mind of their own in original fiction aside (sidebar: I am team ‘they don’t, you just didn’t realize that the way you wrote their personality and the way you wrote your plot conflicted until you actually started writing it out, which is very understandable’) PCs do in fact have a mind of their own separate from the GM and from each other.

Something I like about this is that unless you are coming up with conspiracy theories regarding the interpersonal dynamics of the players themselves (in which case I think you’re both a creep and a weirdo (derogatory)) or if the GM is not respecting player agency (which I feel is usually very easy to see; see below for more on that) you do not get cases of “these characters are together simply because the author felt like pairing them off” as can happen in scripted media. Any romantic relationship is, inherently, a mutually agreed choice between the originators of these characters, and more generally any plot or relationship necessarily needs to have something that appeals to all characters involved. It may be as simple as “these are my friends and I want to keep hanging out”, but, despite this being improv, it’s a medium where saying “no” is always an option.

With that said there is still room for players to be uncooperative or selfish. It’s rare, but it does exist, and I’m personally of the opinion that it’s in part the GM’s responsibility to have a conversation with that player and to not play into their attention grabbing. That said, with one notable exception, all the accusations I’ve seen about this have seemed to me to be more “I don’t like this player/character/ship/arc and I am going to claim they are stealing focus, despite it being justified,” and not genuinely about a player being obnoxious.

Agency separate from the person who creates the world is perhaps the most unique element of actual play and at this point I’m going to talk a little about how a good GM fosters that.

I’ve said before that when a GM has things happen that are not at least mostly a direct response to character actions, they are typically either world-building or a hook, and can be both. I think of this sort of as a variant on Chekhov’s gun, actually; the gun doesn’t have to go off, ultimately, in actual play, but it is saying the following:

This is a world where there are guns hung on the wall sometimes.

Someone else might do something with this gun.

You can attempt to do something with this gun before they do.

And then the players decide how they want to interpret it and what they want to do, and the dice indicate the level of success in doing so.

A good GM should encourage the players to explore and be creative, and more than anything, reward agency. This doesn’t mean rewarding it with success; rather, it means if someone explicitly indicates they want to interact with an element of the world, you should give them the tools such that eventually, they can try to do so. You can also give them reasons in-game why they should change their mind, or make it so that it’s almost certain to fail if that is reasonable, but if you are trying to flat-out shut it down without providing an in-world reason why, the cracks will almost certainly show.

One important thing to remember about GM-ing: GMs will probably come into the game with some ideas of what’s going on in the world, and some level of understanding of what the world looks like. That will be influenced by the players, both in terms of the consequences of their actions and choices, and also by what the players are interested in. Which is to say: even if there is a session zero, and the GM states a specific premise, that can change! Characters develop, player interests change, dice rolls do weird things, and so a good GM absolutely must if not kill their darlings at least remove, recycle, and adapt them based on the direction of the game and motivations of the characters. Even in a plot-driven campaign, the players and GM and what makes them happy needs to drive the story, because fundamentally, this is a game that should be fun. Which brings us to...

On the Watsonian and the Doylist in actual play:

Stepping back for a second: the context in which people are creating fiction influences them. End of sentence. It’s ridiculous to think it doesn’t. This means everything from political events and worldwide trends, to the media the creator is consuming or has consumed, to personal life events. There are always going to be in- and out-of-universe explanations for choices in fiction.

In actual play, the players and GM know the underlying rules of the world, and it’s difficult to truly split the party and have everyone not involved leave in a way that feels fun, so everyone always has information that they can’t really use in-game. Also it’s a fully improvised medium that is primarily theater of the mind, so unconscious choices, misunderstandings, and accidents are frequently not edited out, and people are human. Which is to say I think it’s important to take this into consideration in one’s analysis; it’s not that you can’t incorporate a Watsonian reason for something that happened, but Doylist reasons are given a weight that they may not have in an edited work.

Three of the Doylist reasons beyond the misunderstandings and accidents I wanted to cover are metagaming, awareness that this is for an audience, and character knowledge.

Metagaming exists in many TTRPGs, and it’s not actually inherently bad. When a DM in D&D says “that just hits” you get an idea of the AC of the creature, and you know your own attack rolls, and you can make decisions based on that, when, in a ‘real’ fantasy battle scenario, you probably wouldn’t gain all that insight from a single hit. The rules of the TTRPG are considered part of normal acceptable metagaming. There’s also the more general one; if you start the first session in a tavern, there is an unspoken expectation that the PCs will interact and form an impromptu group and not just quietly drink their ale and leave - basically, the rules of improv still apply. This is a good thing. And finally, there’s the acknowledgement that you are people with feelings and this is a game and so if someone is upset you stop, or you have discussions about consent between sessions that inform actions in-game. Metagaming just gets obnoxious when someone rolls a nat 1 and then argues that this is obvious information and they should know, or looks up every monster in the manual when you encounter it instead of playing true to the character’s knowledge.

In actual play, the ‘hey fellow tavern-goers, would you like to be a group’ form of metagaming, the “oh right this is a story and we should move the story forward,” is even more important than in home D&D games. This is where I recommend listening or reading some Q&As or watching some after shows, because you’ll hear players talk about this. A 5-hour shopping episode or extensive foraging can get boring to watch or listen to (and unlike accidentally boring or frustrating things, are pretty easy to predict and avoid). On the flip side, a risky choice might seem more appealing when you know there’s an audience who would love the payoff.

I am personally, perhaps unsurprisingly given what I said about player dynamic conspiracy theories and randomness (or, outside of this post, my strong dislike of certain popular fan theories), not a big fan of creators catering to audiences’ every whim...but it’s unavoidable that they will take the audience experience in mind.

Finally, character knowledge, which is the opposite of metagaming - when a character knows something the player doesn’t. This is sometimes covered with, for example, GM statements like “you would know, as a person with history proficiency, that this country is actually in a regency period.” If the character had, in improv, before the GM had a chance to say that, mentioned the king, that’s just because the player did not know that and had made an assumption.

Personally I find going deep down the rabbit hole with things like this - “why doesn’t this character, who CLAIMS to be from this country, not know this?”, or clearly OOC statements - tends not to actually spark any interesting theories, but that is, ultimately, an opinion.

A few final thoughts on different formats of actual play

True livestream/live-to-tape (Critical Role, Into the Motherlands, and the second season of Fantasy High): the main thing to keep in mind is Doylist explanations are even more important because there is quite literally no editing. Also, there will possibly be some of those more boring stretches or even a little OOC metagaming discussions within the structure of the game, because there’s no way around it.

Editing, but primarily just to remove long explanations/math and doing soundscaping (NADDPod, Rusty Quill Gaming): Pretty similar; a lot of them even make the choice to leave in OOC metagaming discussions, so it’s mostly that there are fewer cases of people slowly adding numbers.

More extensive editing and possibly some predefined other elements (TAZ, most Dimension 20 shows): this may fall into a more traditional story structure. It’s not to say that there won’t be surprises, because the players do still have agency, but the ‘rails’ might be a little more apparent; there might be some DM monologuing done after the fact (beyond just cleaning up the audio) or choices that were not scripted per se, but not exactly improvised either (think how D20 tends to have pre-set battle maps and earlier seasons had a pretty strict RP/Battle structure.

Somewhat relatedly there are broad story structures, which is more of a spectrum, ranging from sandbox (Critical Role) to very clearly GM-driven missions (TAZ Balance and, to an extent, Amnesty); nearly all of the other shows here fall into a structure of “here is your overall goal, how precisely you get there is up to you although, like any GM, I will provide in-story information on where it may make sense to go that will often funnel you towards specific places.”

I do have a theory that since TAZ Balance in particular was an entry point for so many people, it takes them time to adjust to the more sprawling, unpredictable, and difficult-to-organize stories other actual play can have, but ultimately it is a matter of personal preference and all of these still fall into the category of actual play.

[writing-frenzy]

Seer!Airplane + Harem AU

Brain: Let’s give SQH a Harem :D

Me: SQH doesn’t know what to do with himself, he wouldn’t know what the fick to do with a harem :|

Brain: :D of course, the man doesn’t realize he even has one.

Me:... wut

Brain: And here is the totally new AU drabbled and noted out for how it happens~

....

So, my brain gave me this, so I hope to infect others with it as well.

Ever since Airplane (Shang Huan), was young, he’s always had strange dreams and an interesting ability with words and languages. Not to mention just how he always seemed to know certain things, simple really, like how he knew to bring an umbrella one sunny day that wouldn’t remain that way, to even what paths to take to avoid the bullies in his life. He’s grown this way, never noticed it was strange or unusual, and with parents more focused on tearing each other apart and ignoring any memories of when they were together, Airplane figures it’s just like the rest of his anxieties and worries, though at least the knowing can get him out of being beaten up or a perfect sale at the supermarket.

(The nightmares aren’t worth it; nameless amounts of people, that if he looks too hard at, he can know their entire backstories and futures no longer possible, cut short for blood and sport and greed.)

It is only one day, with desperation and hunger biting in his being, dreams stolen and ruined by others (And how was it, did he know this was still the best outcome? What could be worse- no, don’t ask that, it could always lead to ruin that question-) that Airplane, with only his little talent for script writing and his nightmares to aid him, starts to write, hoping for just enough money to get dinner eventually.

It... proves surprisingly popular. Just write what he dreams, maybe embellish here and there, take out that part, work around here, and just ignore that certain event and hey, this story is surprisingly coming together well. Are there a few plot holes? Sure, but considering the literal mass grave of answers for those holes, Airplane is content to leave them like that (pleasedon’tmakehimwritethatseeingitwasalreadyhorrifyinghedoesnotwanttoreliveit).  

Things are going good; all his hospital bills that his father’s insurance doesn’t cover have been paid, his rent money has already been turned in, and hey, he even has some extra cup noodles. How can life get any better? (thedreamscouldstop-)

And then the world turns strange; weird creatures have started to be discovered, strange flora has been unearthed, and natural disasters seem to not be so natural as once thought.

Not to mention just how people have changed as well; or if they were ever regular people at all. Some seem to turn feral, no mind to think with as they act like zombies all of a sudden, supernatural feats of strength suddenly coming about...

Strangers suddenly flying about on swords, letting loose great shows of light...

Airplane ignores it; it’s all he can do. (Thereisnothingtobedonebutwait.) He codes for his story, makes some noodles to enjoy as he reads some comments, and naturally dies. (right on time)

Airplane is admittedly taken off guard when he actually wakes up, back in his crappy little apartment, terrible bruising all up his arms (therearesomanypathssolittletime), when he looks around and sees the change in the world.

And he knows; his stories are no longer mere words and nightmares anymore, but now combined with his waking world, now and forever.

- Read under for more notes and such on this world~

So, basically, Airplane/Shang Huan has been dreaming of the world where his stories takes place, the PIDW world, and using it to make money because he is a desperate little gremlin. (Now, with his powers, he can see multiple paths, and all, but he doesn’t see everything, especially if he himself changes fate, making the paths shrink and become a little more hazy.) 

So one day, his world and PIDW world merge, causing countless calamities and disasters, even as the world heals and blossoms under it all. See, what happens is that when Bing-ge’s Harem finally turned on him and all (I don’t know if this is canon or fanon but it fits), Bing-ge in turn used the Wrath of the Heavens, which is not something even the craziest of Heavenly Demons would do if that says anything, which wreck a whole bunch of shit and mashed a few planes of existence together.

A lot of people died because of this... and yet, a lot of peeps were brought back because of this as well. Airplane did in fact die because of being electrocuted, but because of that, the energy left from the WOH merged with it, ending up kickstarting and powering him up instead of killing him outright.

And it is a very good thing SQH got that power up; he is going to have so many nightmares about it, but being able to manipulate, control, and use electricity and lightening are what ensure him survival for a good month before his city is made livable again. (He would do worse to survive, has done worse, what is a little electrical trauma in the name of his life?)

And look, even his intuition and foresight seemed to have greatly improved! Yay? (Nay so many n i g h t m a r e s)

He’ll be fine, he can walk it off. But as it is, Airplane starts to be rather... lucky with some of his finds.

-

Ironically, it starts with a man dressed in pale blues, eye tired and ever so dead, blood covering his fancy fantasy robes, a familiar crest/symbol (To Airplane) stitched over where the heart would be. A Traitor abused and used up, nothing left but rock bottom and yet still willing to dig if it meant living. (Oh, how that rings familar~)

Airplane has seen the past of Shang Family’ Honorable Third Son Shang Shaoqing and the future of the backstabing An Ding Peak Lord Shang Qinghua. Airplane knows that this is a desperate man who has done all he could to survive, with the mind like so many steel traps and mazes to dig around in...

Airplane saves them, avoiding a slow death the man would have had, earning him gratitude and suspicion all at once. The Writer doesn’t care, he just knows that having this guy on his side is just a logical choice; the man not only has more insider knowledge then anyone else in the world, but even knows how to use it.

On Shang Qinghua’s side.

With all the karmatic debt I have, I can not avoid this Life Debt... but once I pay my debt, I am gonna blow this popsicle stand.

Huh, this guy is actually kinda useful, maybe I should stick around

OH FUCK WHY DOES HE HAVE HEAVENLY TRIBULATION LIGHTNING?! HE NEEDS TO START CULTIVATING STAT

WHY IS THIS MAN SUCH A DISASTER?!?! NOW I HAVE TO TAKE CARE OF HIM AND MAKE SURE HE DOESN’T GET HURT.

*Airplane tenderly taking care of his injuries, nervous smile on his face even as it is so soft* “You didn’t have to take that attack but... thank you for having my back” SdndejnejdbbhjD no, you have no right looking so cute, fuck why is this happening?! 

.... This man is a fucking Seer... Actual, full blown, Doomsayer Seer, Not the Succubus Soothsayers who can just see little things, no, actual, can literally effect the fabric of Fate and Destiny Seer.... Fuck his life, he probably owes this guy even more now...

*Shang Qinghua snarks in response, only to get equally snarked in reply* .... I won’t say I’m in love...

Fuck, if anything happens to his disaster of a Seer he will go on a massacre and then probably become a demonic cultivator to revive him...

 So yeah, over the course of maybe a few months, Shang Qinghua has regretsTM and Airplane gets an actually loyal bodyguard... Meanwhile~

Airplane: -Sigh- As nice as it is to have Shang Qinghua around, it won’t last forever; once the man pays back his debt, he just leave (like everyone else).

And then time for drama! The two get separated by unsteady space rips, Airplane having enough time to yell out a safe place for them to meet again before they end up on opposite sides to each other. So now, not only does Airplane have to work on surviving, but on the (hopeful) reunion between the two.

Cue Airplane’s next ‘Lucky Find’

- 

Airplane hears the sound of sword and spell before he ever actually sees anything. Looking over the top of his nice ledge, safe enough from from any ‘friendly fire’, the young man feels his eyes widen when he sees who is fighting.

A beautiful, tall man in cream and tan colored robes, the ashen brunet directing their sword around them, using their other hand to throw out talismans when too crowded. And oh, how the mob surrounds this tired, too kind man, so weary for lost, all his grief stricken love no where to go in the lost of his family. (Oh, how jealous one can be, that someone got that love, no matter how fleeting it was in the end)

Airplane taking in Mu Qingfang, a healer forced to be a killer, a man with so much heartbreak in his soul, even as he determinedly live on, that shattered heart still wanting to help as much as it could. The Seer takes on how the other will die here, nothing left at all of such a heart, and in the end, Airplane helps, letting loose lightning upon the mob as he does.

Just makes sense, to have a Healer with you if you can.

On Mu Qingfang’s side:

This man is terrifying, how does he have tribulation lightning at his command??? but he did save me there, it’s only right I accompany him until I can pay it off (not like I have other things to do)

I am very, very grateful you saved me, but can you for all that is health PLEASE REST?!

Oh to the gods, how is a disaster like you alive? No, don’t eat that!

*Airplane, a tired smile on his face as he shows off some potent healing herbs he found* “I managed to find them, a little tricky but I was wondering if you can make use of them, maybe? I remember you saying you were running low and all.” .... damn his heart for being weak to sincere care and actually thoughtful gifts.

*after a terrifying nightmare, Airplane nearly bleeding from his screams, eyes so haunted and terrified even as he clings onto Mu Qingfang* “Please, I-I I just don’t want to be alone right now... please.” bjhbdjd shit, how can he say no, letting the other cling to them as they finally fall asleep. (Do not think about how cute the other is, cuddled up against him)

...A Seer... a fully realized, Fate altering, Destiny denying Seer... Gods, that explains so damn much... Maybe he can make him a Dreamless Night tea? would at least help with headaches if nothing else.

And so, over the time they have together, Airplane has unknowingly received the care and affection of one powerful as heck healer, who can and will be willing to cut a bitch if it means they have to.

But on Airplane: *le sigh* ah, once they feel like I’m well enough, they’re probably go back to trying to find their Martial Brothers and Sisters.... I’ll at least help them as much as I can...

Now, they don’t get separated: which is good, considering this next er... ‘Lucky’ Find.

-

They feel the temperature drop before they ever actually see the cause. Warily, the two men look to each other, but with no other way around it, move forward through the incredibly icy landscape.

It does not take them long to find the cause of it.

It is a Demon, Skin pale with a ghostly blue tint to their skin, beautiful snow white antlers branching out from their hand, ice collecting on the ends to make them even more deadly beautiful then before. And yet, for all that deadly beauty, are those ice like eyes, backdropped in the night sky look ever so tired, so betrayed (like always)

Mo Bolin, formerly Mobei-Jun is not one who has nothing left, but his willpower is draining, trapped as he is between the cursed artifact before him, no hope to escape it unless someone is willing to help.

Airplane sees this demon, this man who he greatly admired and aspired to be like, able to stand on their own and keep standing no matter what, no matter what the world came at them with, no matter the misery that had twisted a previously loving and warm child into the hardened, determined Warrior before him.

Letting his Lightning destroy the Artifact, the world weary youth takes the demon’s face in his hands, letting those icy night eyes look into his lightning bright ones, Mu Qingfang quiet but his sword at the ready behind him.

It will not be needed, as his Seer powers go to work.

“You find so much betrayal, just seemingly never able to escape it.

You soul has had so much darkness and hurt just let sit.

You Fate is said to be a cruel one for a cruel being,

Hurt, fear, blood, Ice, and broken bonds and dreams are all I am seeing,

I do Not agree.

So, From this wicked Fate I will set you free.” and as those eyes stare into each other, Mo Bolin can’t stop how he gasps, hand going to his heart, feeling lighter then he has in years.

Meanwhile, Airplane faints, having healed a better Fate for the former Mobei-Jun draining him good.

On Mobei-Jun’s Part

 sdhkhbfwkkjdejdehjdehj Why? Just Why? What’s the reason the Seer did that?

Well, considering what he did, Mobei/Mo Bolin will have to find a way to pay the other back.

...Why is this Seer so Cute? He wants to pet it. (note: hitting will make the Healer stab him)

*Airplane, tired out from a long day having to fight through a bit battle, smiling in thanks, help Mu Qingfang with patching everyone up* “You know, I really admire you; your strength and determination to always do your best, no matter how many people try to tear you down... I wish I could be like that.” wait what, no, you’re perfect like you are, you little gremlin seer. (Mu Qingfang agrees.)

*Airplane, suffering from a Fever, which means he has to cuddle with a certain Ice Demon to cool down* “Ah, sorry for troubling you like this, my ideal man, but you are so cool... *snuggles* .... Damnit.

Like, Mobei-Jun/Mo Bolin knows Airplane can kick some ass already, but by the ancestors does he love seeing this little disaster of a man just wreck everyone around him.

So yeah, add one very smitten Demon Lord to the roster~ :D Oh, the loyalty was hard earned, and there is no way Mobei-Jun will be willing to part, even as he has to share with a Healer and whoever this Shang-Er they will be seeing soon.

For Airplane: ah, so cool to see my Ideal Man, but of course there is no way he’ll stay by my side forever, what with all the things he probably needs to do.

 and this is all I got for the Harem on my side: now for the dynamics with each other:

Mobei-Jun and Mu Qingfang:  the demon respects the healer greatly, and since they are both quiet peeps they don’t have much conflict. as for the Healer, after his sect got destroyed, he’s had to do a lot of things to make sure him and his surviving disciples lived, so he’s not too against demons, and Mobei-Jun is very useful in fighting, so for now they cool.

Both when they see Shang Qinghua; ... D:<

On Mobei-Jun’s side: his little traitorous spy just had to be back and be that Shang-Er close to Airplane. He does not like this, wants to smack the other around, but that would upset Airplane So he just glares. Shang Qinghua is not happy with this arrangement either, fully prepared to curse the other out and everything, but not going to stir the pot up more then he has to.

On Mu Qingfang: .... his backstabing martial brother is alive, but the thing is that Mu Qingfang and his disciples wouldn’t have lived if it wasn’t for the other; Shang Qinghua had saved them, transporting them away from the bloodshed that was about to happen. On Shang Qinghua’s part, the Healer was the only Peak Lord to give him any damn respect and care, so he of course gave him an out along with his own peak disciples; he pays back debts. 

(This is ironically the reason he got killed by Mobei-Jun, because he saved those disciples)

So, there is much drama for a while, the three having big shouting matches and discourse, but these guys will turn into Enemies to Frenemies to Salt Lords and then to the Airplane Protection squad... because when these three get together and agree on something, well, you just combined the only competent people from PIDW together~ 

And they all love Airplane :D

Thank you all for reading the insanity of this, I enjoyed writing it out~

[happyandticklish]

New Beginnings

Notes: For the request by @yellowbakyura. I’m not super familiar with this ship, hence why this took so goddamn long, but I like the result! It was super interesting to write their dynamic! Thanks for sending in the request and I hope you enjoy! ^^

Summary: Masaomi tries to clear his mind and ends up running into an old friend. 

Walking the city at night was a habit Masaomi had fallen into semi-accidentally. At first, it had been to meet up with Erika and Walker, who were always up to something, regardless the time of day. After a while, he continued going out even if it was without them, enjoying the way the world quieted once the sun fell. Though Ikebukuro was never truly silent, people bustling about the city with tasks of business and pleasure at all hours of the day, there was a kind of unity that the night brought.

It was nice to know that no matter how much time had passed, Ikebukuro was Ikebukuro. A city full of people making connections and gaining heartbreaks, where each moment could be an adventure if you let it. He had always loved that chaotic atmosphere, even now, years later. It was difficult to believe he had graduated just last year. Soon, he would be off to university, an exciting new life ahead of him.

Mikado had already left for home, and Anri was off abroad, her grades landing her a soaring success of scholarships. Eventually, only Masaomi was left. He still hadn’t decided where he was going, and the clock only seemed to tick faster as he struggled to decide. So he had decided to fall back onto an old tradition to help clear his mind.

That night, he strolled around Central Park, his hands interlocked behind his head. He took a seat by the fountain, kicking his legs up and curling them under himself. Around him were a variety of couples conversing under the cover of darkness, as well as several rambunctious teenagers joking and shoving each other perilously close to the water.

Masaomi sighed, leaning back on the cold foundation, a grateful relief from the heat of summer. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to relax.

“You know, it’s not safe to leave yourself so vulnerable in such a dangerous city. Who knows what kind of creeps you could run into?”

Masaomi’s eyes snapped open, his heart slamming against his chest at the familiar voice. Izaya Orihara stood on the ledge of the fountain behind him, peering down into his face with that serene, cat-like smile of his. It managed to somehow be both pleasant and menacing at the same time.

“The only creep I have to worry about is you,” Masaomi responded dryly, pretending like the other’s presence hadn’t just sent him into cardiac arrest.

“You wound me.” Izaya’s hands were shoved into his pockets, and Masaomi briefly wondered how he could be wearing something like that with the current weather. “I thought you considered me a friend.”

“I have friends. They don’t insist on treating my life like it’s some amusing game.”

“But isn’t that all life is? A game without rules, where winning can sometimes be the same thing as losing. It’s all about perspective, my dear Ma-sa-o-mi!”

“Don’t say my name like that—it’s weird.”

Masaomi sighed. Of all the people to run into, why did it have to be him? Right now he needed clarity, and for as long as he’d known him, Izaya had always provided the opposite of that. He had never met a single more confusing or frustrating individual as the man peering curiously down at him now. He could feel the age-old excitement buzzing in his limbs despite this. Izaya meant danger and risks, dancing through life on a dagger’s edge. It was addicting and terrifying all at once, a contradiction Masaomi had never been able to sort out inside himself.

“What are you doing out here anyway?” Izaya asked, taking a seat besides the other. His legs were tucked tightly underneath himself, far away from risk of falling in the fountain. Masaomi smirked, just slightly. “Shouldn’t you be spending your time with you friends, during these last days of freedom?”

“And what about you?” Masaomi shot back defensively. “You’re alone too, you know.”

“I’m never alone,” Izaya corrected, tossing an affectionate glance at the citizens enjoying the park, unaware of the shark amongst their midst. “I have all of humanity to entertain me. I find they make much better company than friends. After all, it’s impossible to know who others truly are when you constantly endeavor to see the best in them.”

Masaomi narrowed his eyes. Typical cryptic bastard. Still, tonight he found he didn’t mind it. It was a comfort to hear his nonsensical poetry; it helped to drown out the current thoughts plaguing his mind. “That’s something someone with no friends would say.”

“How cruel,” Izaya intoned, smirking lightly. “I forgot about that attitude of yours. You should work on that, if you want people to like you. Lighten up, you know?”

“People do like me—ah, hey!” He jerked back as Izaya poked him suddenly, a playful, harmless jab. The latter’s eyes widened as he registered the extreme reaction. “What was that for?”

“Interesting,” Izaya mused, poking him again. Masaomi drew his knees up protectively, leaning away from the other. “I never knew you were ticklish.”

“I’m not,” Masaomi said immediately. He didn’t like the way Izaya was looking at him, like a predator that had just found its prey. It made his insides squirm, not unpleasantly. Still, he knew this game. Give Izaya an inch and he’d take a full three miles before he gave up. He forget how it was to have those eyes, slanted and inquisitive, targeted at him. “And who just goes around poking people?”

“Lying will get you nowhere.” Izaya was undeterred by the other’s protective position, merely grabbing his leg instead. “Your denials only make me more sure of my assumption.”

“Wha—hey!” Masaomi flailed, just narrowly catching himself and avoiding falling in the fountain. He glared at the other, attempting to jerk his leg back, but found the other’s hold stronger than he originally thought. It was easy to forget how strong Izaya could be when he was so often in comparison to Shizuo. “What are you doing?!”

“Proving a point,” Izaya replied simply, sliding off his shoe like it was nothing and dropping it besides them on the ground. “This will provide ample payback for your earlier comment, don’t you agree? Now, where to start?”

Masaomi clamped his mouth shut when Izaya dragged a lone finger up his sole, his toes curling instinctively. He cursed himself for the reaction, giving himself away before they’d hardly started. It was strange how little defense his socks gave him as Izaya gently scratched the area with a precision that was altogether unfair.

“H-Hnrgh,” Masaomi grunted, attempting to hold back the giggles building in his throat. “I-Izaya!”

“I never realized you were so sensitive!” Izaya marveled, adding more fingers into the mix that crawled up his soles teasingly. Masaomi yelped, jerking hard on his trapped leg. Goosebumps prickled down his arms, as though his foot had a direct link to the rest of the nerve endings in his body. “You should’ve told me earlier—I’ve been missing out on all the fun.”

“T-This ihis exactly w-why, I—ah—heh, d-dihidn’t tell you!” Masaomi covered his face, hoping to hide the blush spreading rapidly across his features. “Izaya!” he squawked suddenly when fingernails skittered teasingly under his toes. “Thahat tihihickles!”

“Well, I should hope so,” Izaya said, amusement dancing in his eyes as he glanced back at the other. “I am tickling you after all.”

Masaomi grinned, his heart fluttering strangely in his chest. “S-Shuhuhut uhuhup!”

“And why should I do that when you give such wonderful reactions whenever I do the opposite?”

This was ridiculous. Masaomi was being ridiculous. After all these years, and still, Izaya knew all the best ways to get under his skin. Old memories were cropping up of hands clapping down firmly on his shoulder, a teasing grin, and those eyes that shot right through you until you couldn’t think anymore.

Masaomi cursed himself internally. He was older now. Smarter. A different person. He was supposed to be preparing for the next stage in his life, choosing who he wanted to represent as a living creature in the vast cosmos, and yet, all he could think about was some stupid high school crush.

People were staring, but not that much. It wasn’t unusual to see strange things in Ikebukuro. He could hear the name Izaya Orihara floating around with notes of surprise, but no one intervened. Masaomi was almost glad for it. It would have been far too embarrassing to have a stranger approach him like this, giggling and squirming like a fool over tickling, of all things.

“What’s wrong? Nothing to say?” He was loving this. The goddamn bastard was soaking this up and Masaomi was going to kill him right after he stopped getting the urge to tackle him to the ground and kiss him until Izaya was just as breathless as him. “You’re usually so talkative. Could it be that you’re too ticklish to withstand something as simple as this? I mean, it’s almost funny—I’m hardly touching you.”

Masaomi squeaked, falling backwards against the marble. “Nahahaha, y-yohohou—fuhuhuhuck!”

“Maybe you like it,” Izaya guessed cheerfully. Masaomi’s toes appeared to be a particularly bad spot, and so he concentrated his efforts there, prying them back with one hand to get better access. Masaomi’s laughter went up several octaves at the new technique, his squirming growing more desperate. “That must be it. Little Masaomi likes to be tickled and he can’t admit it, so he resorts to saying nothing instead, is that it?”

“Nahahahat lihihihittle!” Masaomi protested, his face growing redder if that was even possible. Whether it was because of Izaya’s teasing words or the truth behind them, he couldn’t say. Possibly both.

“Oh? That’s not a denial, you know. Well, if you really do like this, I suppose my only option is to keep going. But these socks are really getting in the way, don’t you think?” Izaya frowned, clucking his tongue in disappointment. “We’re going to have to do something about that.”

Masaomi’s breath hitched when he felt Izaya’s fingers slipping under his sock, nails grazing the skin teasingly as he pulled it off. He let out a frankly embarrassing squeak, and before he could help himself instinct took over. His free foot connected with Izaya’s back, startling him into letting go. However, Masaomi had underestimated the strength he had put into the kick, and they both watched in surprise as Izaya went tumbling into the fountain with a strangled yelp.

Masaomi took a deep breath, still giggling slightly as he sat up. He rubbed his foot against the fountain’s edge, trying to relieve himself of the phantom tickles running through his nervous system. Once he had collected himself slightly, he glanced over at the other only to almost lose it all over again at the sight.

Izaya sat blinking in surprise, his pants soaked through and his jacket floating besides him. His hair fell into his eyes, pasted there by the water. Any semblance of dignity he had held before was gone now. He noticed Masaomi’s face and narrowed his eyes. “Don’t you dare laugh.”

“I thought you wanted me to laugh?” Masaomi shot back, unable to help his delighted grin. To see the great Izaya Orihara in such a manner, drenched and shell-shocked after falling on his ass, was something he had never thought he would witness, though he was immensely glad he had.

Izaya glared at him, his cheeks dusted a faint shade of pink. “You are an insufferable brat.”

“Pot calling the kettle black, wouldn’t you say?”

“You think you’re funny.”

“I’m hilarious.”

Izaya stared as a hand was outstretched towards him, Masaomi’s friendly features on the other side. “What are you doing?”

“Helping you out, obviously,” Masaomi replied, rolling his eyes. “C’mon, just take it. I don’t bite.”

Izaya watched him suspiciously for a moment, before reluctantly accepting his hand. Masaomi pulled him out, the other’s pants sloshing comically as he stood up. Izaya sat down, shedding his jacket in disgust as he stared at the dripping mess. “It’s ruined.”

“It’s just water.”

“You weren’t the one that fell in the fountain.”

“It was an accident! Besides, you were the one tickling me!”

“It’s not my fault you’re that ticklish.”

Masaomi flushed. “Shut up.”

“Make me.”

“Fine.”

Masaomi did not remember consciously deciding to lean over and kiss the other, only that once he had it was everything he had imagined it to be. Izaya’s lips were soft, and they parted under Masaomi’s in surprise. For a moment, everything was wonderful.

And then Masaomi opened his eyes and noticed Izaya’s shocked expression.

Shit.

Masaomi jerked back, flailing awkwardly in his attempt to slide off the fountain. “I’m sorry! That was weird! I’m weird. Fuck. I don’t know why I did that. I’m just gonna… go… now… yeah.” He nodded furiously, snatching up his shoe and whirling around, not even bothering to put it on before he ran off.

His heart felt like it was gonna explode outside of his chest, and he couldn’t decide between imploding with joy or panic. Going to the park was supposed to help clear his mind, and it was anything but clear now. Why did he decide to do that? Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Several yards away, Izaya sat staring after him, his fingers pressed delicately against the spot where Masaomi’s lips had been a moment before.

He smiled softly.

[docholligay]

For the rewrite: You get to rewrite D-Point/S1 finale but in a way that it could still fit into where the rest of the series goes and R could start as normal. How would you do it?

UGH. So basically I have to keep the weird false divide between inners and outers. FURI YOU LOATHE ME. This is obviously only part of it, as, uh, I am long-winded and love a bit of drama, but 1800 words. please enjoy

The wind whirled grey across that empty arctic plain. Well, not quite empty. If rei had been turned another direction, she would have seen Ami’s body, perched on a mound of ice, there in the far background from where Mina had dragged them both away from the scene, as if her own element were constructing a tomb to her. She knew without seeing that Ami would be dressed in that loose grey sweater and awkward green skirt that came down to her calves, a pair of loafers on her feet. It was what she had been wearing last time they’d transformed. The uniform leaves, when a senshi dies. 

She’d found that out with Mako. 

Rei hadn’t seen Ami die. She hadn’t needed to. It had, like she’d said, afforded Rei and Mina the time to move forward along that plain, trying to find the place where they could enter the lair where Beryl was said to sit, on this desolate patch of earth that might have been beautiful, thousands of years ago, when it was the seat of power for the earth, but now was as lifeless as everything else behind them. 

Mina’s nose was in the air, as if she could smell anything but the bright cold of the wind. As if she could hear anything but that howling which might have been the same wind, but just as likely might have been Usagi. It could have been Rei’s own soul, too, she supposed. 

She wanted to melt all of it. She wanted to take her arms off from around Usagi, put her hands together, and bring it all to dirt. How foolish they would be, bringing a fire maiden to the ice, not knowing what sort of powers she contained. She was the ace in the hole, she knew. She was the strongest one, here, if her pride did not allow her to remember that might not be true everywhere. 

MIna stepped back from her lookout and glanced over to Rei and Usagi. “Sailor Moon. Princess.” Usagi looked up at her, tears half-frozen on her cheeks, “We have to keep going. If we stay here, they’ll find us straightaway.” 

Rei wanted to protest, but only in the way that she wanted the girl before her to be Mina and not Venus. She had never mastered that in the same way Mina had, to be two people in one body. She was always Rei, and Mars was only ever Rei with the fire at her fingertips instead of her heart. Mina was warm and bright, if a bit annoying--a neon light, flashing in the cool darkness--but Venus was sheer steel, cold and unrelenting. 

Usagi began wailing. 

“But, but--” she took a deep breath, and coughed against the cold, “Am--” 

“Sailor Mercury did her duty. It would be worst disrespect to her death not to do ours.” She looped the chain at her waist, tightening it as she went to move forward. “It’s getting closer to the surface, over that way.” 

Rei hadn’t known Mina very long, as a practical matter. It was only recently that Rei had come to see her as anything other than a usurper, strolling into the group and declaring herself the military commander of the entire operation. Luna had said nothing to disagree, simply called her Commander Venus as Rei glared. 

“I am the commander,” Mina had sipped at her tea, eyes sparking in the way they often did when she and Rei were alone, something that tugged onto Rei and made her keep looking. She blamed the moon. “But you are the personal bodyguard. You are the last one standing, because that’s your job.” 

“Who decided that anyway?” Rei had scowled across the table, Mina leaning toward her, those clever eyes searching her too deeply, “You? You just think you can show up and--” 

She’d laughed. “Oh, I don’t decide anything.” She looked up out the window to the sky. “This is so far beyond you and me.” 

Rei went to protest that it didn’t have to be that way, that nothing was beyond her exactly, but Mina never gave her the opportunity. 

“Don’t you want to protect Usagi?” MIna had come just a little closer to her, and she could smell that near-syrup sweetness, like peaches in a can, “Can’t you feel that you should? Why do you think that is.” 

“That’s different.” Rei said, both then and now, Mina and Usagi both looking at her suddenly. 

“What is?” Mina had her hands on her hips. 

Rei shook her head, but did not remove her arms from Usagi’s side. “Let’s go.” 

The terrain was not so flat as it looked, and Usagi stumbled as she cried, protesting that Rei and Mina didn’t care about their friends, neither of them rising to the occasion. Even now, Usagi did not seem to realize that this was it. This was the grand battle for which they had been reborn, this was the one they had to win. Every battle leading up to this had only ever been dress rehearsal. 

It was not Ami and Mako at risk, but the world entire. 

Mina stopped, putting her hand on Rei’s chest to pause her, but flashing her a grin that was beyond Venus as she did so. There was a glow in the earth, here, just barely, if you looked beyond the snow. Anyone else might have walked past it, might have stepped over it, but Mina put her hand down onto it, and it pulsed beneath her hand. 

There was a rumble, and a crack, and Mina pushed them both back, grabbing to the chain at her side and beginning to swing. Usagi whimpered, again, and Mina turned back to the two of them, chain still gliding in golden figure eight over her head, as if it were a crown all her own. 

“You have to go.” Mina’s eyes looked greyer, somehow, in this light, “Take her and head for the point on the far horizon. You have to get her there, Mars.” 

Usagi tried to pull away from Rei’s heat, to no avail. 

“Venus! We can’t leave you!” She began to cry again, her whimpering cry mixing with that same cold wind and drilling into Rei’s ears. “You can’t die too!”

“No,” she shook her head, “you can’t die, Princess. You’re the key. You’ve always been the key.” 

Rei saw, in that moment, that it was never going to be otherwise. This was always how it ended. It was always Mars, bow on her back, taking the princess where she needed to be. Even if they won. Even if they failed. She was always the last one standing, always the final line of defense, and it was always her fire that protected the princess. The fire hadn’t shown her that before. It had never been close enough to see by its light. 

Before Usagi could say otherwise, the ground burst open, and two of the youma guards popped out, mouths wide with delight and fury as they careened toward the three. MIna’s chain curved in a broad arc in the air, and came down, wrapping around a youma’s arm, twisting it back as she drew the chain in. But the other youma was fast approaching, and Mina was forced to step back, hurtling one youma into the other with a fierce swing of the chain. 

She turned her head. 

“Go!” 

Rei stammered for a moment, unsure in a way that felt wrong and less stable than the crust of snow beneath her feet. But what about you? She wanted to say. If we leave you, you’ll die, and she saw Mina leaning over the table again, and she felt her body close in, and she could barely draw a breath at this moment, everything that might have been burning in the fire of what was to be. 

Mina whipped the chain over her, moving deftly as she looped in around her neck and rerouted it, sparking one and then the other with its tip, blood beginning to tear from the two of them. Her violence was poetry, Rei thought, the chain her pen. She was nothing like the rest of them, stronger than Ami, more elegant than Mako, and, though she would only ever allow this in though, perhaps more clever than Rei herself. She was a creature created for this moment, a valkyrie of the long odds. 

They staggered back, weapons drawn, unsure of how to handle this unusual weapon. 

Mina looked back, blonde hair whipping in the wind, eyes narrowed. 

“Go or I will kill you myself.” 

Rei nodded, in that, the first command from Mina for which she had no moment to question or balk, and for which she felt no drive to do so. She took Usagi by the shoulders, her cries fading into the background against the shoosh of Mina’s chain. 

As Rei started to move away, the youmas rushed at Mina, trying to flank her from the sides, but Mina was too quick and too studied, whipping the chain around her and knelling to the ground, catching them both with the end of it, howls as they furiously took another blow before they could turn to run, but un they did, escaping back down the hole in the ice. 

“Have to go after them, unsettle the place.” MIna grinned back to Rei, and blew a kiss. “Think of me, fireball.” 

Rei hated the nickname instantly. Rei hoped she would say it again. But she became Venus again. 

“Princess. Your duty to the world is at hand. Do it.” 

She did not wait for a reply, simply whipped the chain above her and disappeared down the hole. As Rei dragged Usagi away, still crying and screaming, Rei fought back tears of her own, hearing the fighting below them, hearing the thunderous roar of the troops coming to aid, knowing that Mina would die down there, bloody and bruised, her body broken in a horrible, dark, cold cave at the end of nowhere. 

There was the entrance up ahead. Mina was right, they were scattered, they assumed the senshi had all entered together, they had not thought of it as Mina had, as Venus always would, and now was their moment. 

“CRESCENT!!! BEAM!!!!” She heard echoing on the tundra behind her, and then there was a grand explosion, the tearing and rending of the earth behind them, and Rei and Usagi looked back to see a golden crest in the sky, rocks and dirt and snow flying from where she had blown apart the tunnel she was in, a sudden still silence filling the air, a fine red mist settling into perfect ruby snowflakes into that same wind, and whispering out toward she and Usagi. 

Usagi screamed. It might have been Mina’s name, or Venus’, but it was a tuneless thing and might have been neither of them at all. 

Onward. Make it worth it. 

She grabbed Usagi’s arm, and pulled.

[thecassadilla]

Don’t Look Back

Pairing: Kristanna

Rated: M

Word Count: 2,945/AO3

Summary: After their separation is prophesied by a strange woman, Kristoff goes on a quest to the underworld to save Anna.

Author’s Note: Hi everyone! This is my contribution for Kristanna Week Day 5 - Blue! I wasn’t originally going to write a spin on the Orpheus and Eurydice myth for this day, but the idea came to me last night and I just had to write it out. I also apologize if I messed up any of the mythology, it’s been nearly 10 years since I last read this story and I kind of adapted it to suit the needs of the fic. I’m not really crazy about it because it’s a little different than all of the other stuff I’ve written but what am I gonna do? I hope you enjoy it despite it's weirdness!! (Sorry for all the asterisks, tumblr is finnicky with language and tags) *Please note that this fic is rated M for light s*xual content and temporary character d*ath*

There were few things rarer in the world than true love, and Anna and Kristoff had been lucky enough to find it with each other. In the beginning, they hid their feelings, and for far too long, they danced around the possibility of being together. When they finally came together, what grew between them was beautiful and rare.

In no time at all, they were blissfully married, and spending nearly every waking moment together. On this particular day, they’d gone for a stroll in the park, as the weather was getting colder by the day, and soon being outside would become unbearable. They walked hand in hand, bundled up in their winter attire, and walked along a wooded path. For such a brisk day, there were plenty of people out and about - children and families, joggers, dog walkers. They chatted about their upcoming plans and current events as they walked, damp leaves crunching beneath their shoes. Just as they were getting ready to leave, a wiry grey-haired woman approached them.

“There is very bad energy here,” the old woman warned, eyes widened with fear. “You will not last together.”

“Excuse me?” Kristoff asked, wrapping a protective arm around Anna’s shoulders.

“You’ll be torn apart,” she hissed and waved her hands around manically, before wandering up to another unsuspecting group of people.

“What does she know?” Anna scoffed, rolling her eyes.

He wasn’t the superstitious type, but there was something about what the woman said that managed to rub him the wrong way. “That was...strange.”

She looked up at him, and frowned. “Are you actually worried?”

“No,” he lied, though it was useless - Anna was exceptional at reading his face.

“Nothing can tear us apart, my love,” she promised him, stroking his cheek with her soft, delicate fingers. “Nothing can come between us. Especially not a crazy old lady in a park.”

She’d said it with such confidence that he was able to temporarily brush off the overwhelming sense of doom that the old woman had managed to stir up in him. It wasn’t until they got home that evening that the anxiety returned. He normally kept a calm and level head, but losing Anna was his greatest fear and the sheer thought of it was enough to make his stomach turn. He was quiet throughout dinner as she blathered away and she didn’t bring up his unusual silence until they were lying on the couch.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he sighed.

“Something is bothering you.”

“I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“You don’t have to,” she assured him. “But I’m all ears if you change your mind.”

“It’s not a big deal, I just need to relax.”

“How about a bath?” she suggested, squeezing his arm. “I can’t think of anything more relaxing than that.”

He smiled at the thought of it and just a little while later, they were submerged in a tub of warm water and bubbles, her bare back pressed up against his solid chest. He pressed kisses to her neck and her ear, caressing her breasts with one hand and slipping his other hand to tease the sensitive area between her legs all while she giggled and moaned from his touch. They moved from the tub to their bed after they pruned up, eager to please each other and put the stress of the day behind them. It was so easy for him to get lost in her bright blue eyes as she looked up at him with adoration, biting her lip and digging her nails into his back as he thrust into her.

Long after they were both satisfied, he cradled her in his arm and she rested her head on his shoulder, drawing lazy circles on his bare chest.

“I hope you feel better now,” she mumbled. “Because I know I do.”

“I do,” he confirmed, pressing a kiss to her hairline. “Taking a bath together was a great idea.”

“We should do it more often,” she smiled, looking up at him through her eyelashes. “You should get some sleep.”

He watched as her eyes fluttered closed and her body relaxed against his, and he sighed contently, closing his own eyes and drifting away.

He didn’t remember waking up the following morning, but the sunlight streaming in through their curtains had created a weird, hazy effect. Just as he had expected, she was still lying next to him, practically glowing in the morning light.

“I have to go,” she said suddenly.

“You should stay,” he whispered in her ear, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close.

She managed to free herself from his grasp and turned to face him, dragging her hand from his face to his chest and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “You know that I have to go, but I’ll be back soon and we can pick up from where we left off.”

After one last passionate kiss, she crawled out of bed and he propped himself up on his elbows, watching as she padded across the bedroom floor. She looked back to give him a flirtatious smile before closing the bathroom door. He didn’t even know where she had to go, but with a grin of his own, he flopped back onto the pillows and tossed his arm over his face, wondering how he’d gotten so lucky.

Until she didn’t come home.

Though their separation had been prophesied by the lady in the park, his heart was shattered and he was overcome with grief - god, the grief was unbearable. He’d lost his beautiful wife, the most important person in his life, the person he truly loved and who loved him back, unconditionally. He cried over her pale body for days, wishing that his tears would bring her back but knowing deep down that his sadness had no power in determining her fate.

But, he’d heard of someone who did have that kind of power - the god of the underworld, Hades, who had a penchant for collecting souls. If the mythology was true, then there had to be a way to find the underworld and convince Hades that Anna needed to be earthside with him. They belonged together, and there was no one - human or god - who could tell him otherwise.

He did as much research as he could, scouring books and maps, trying to figure out a way to get to the underworld - to get Anna back. He didn’t care how far he had to travel, or whether it was by land or by sea, but he had to get to her.

So he did, setting off on a long journey across the world before finally coming across the dark cave that had been described in every piece of literature he’d gotten his hands on. A discarded boat on the banks of the river attracted his attention, and he climbed in, picking up the ore in his hands and rowing towards the cave. As he rowed, the water beneath the boat changed from translucent and blue to an oily, black sludge.

When he finally descended into the dark cavern, he found that he was no longer rowing the boat, but that control of the water had been taken over by a force behind him. He turned around and there was a tall, gangly man standing at the back of the boat, guiding them through the rough waters. He could tell from first glance that the man was not human, but that was to be expected - he was going to the underworld, after all. He’d read about this particular man; a ferryman who escorted the souls of the d*ceased to the underworld, though he certainly wasn’t escorting the d*ad in this case.

The journey to the underworld was a long and dangerous one, and he knew they had reached a crucial area when a fog began to form across the sides of the cavern - souls. Everything that surrounded them was d*ad; shriveled leaves and withered trees shrouded in darkness. Finally, the boat collided with a dock and Kristoff turned around to find that the ferryman was gone. He took a deep breath before climbing out of the boat, more determined than ever to find Hades and bring his wife home.

Being surrounded by death created an unsettling, eerie feeling. Kristoff could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as he wandered aimlessly through the darkness, surrounded by the foggy mist. Despite the fact that he was most definitely alone, he didn’t feel alone. He felt as if he were walking along a busy sidewalk in a major city, dodging tourists and workers, rushing to their destination.

Finally, he came upon a looming, black castle and he knew that he had made it to his own destination. With all of the determination that he could muster up, he marched toward it; through the gates, down the cobblestone path, and into the palace that belonged to the god of the underworld. Hades had a bride of his own, and together they sat in matching thrones at the end of the long hallway.

“You’re not welcome in the underworld, mortal,” Hades’ threatening voice boomed.

Kristoff was not going to take no for an answer; he hadn’t made it this far to give up. “I’m here for my wife and I refuse to leave without her.”

“You don’t get to make demands.”

“I need my wife,” he pleaded. “I can’t live without her. I won’t leave without her.”

The threatening creature moved to stand from his throne, but his wife held out her arm, which caused him to pause. She leaned toward him, her long, dark tresses moving in a fluid motion with her body. Her hand flexed over the distance between her mouth and his ear as she whispered to him. Kristoff gulped, unsure of what her actions meant, though he hoped it was an act of mercy.

When she finally pulled away, Hades mischievously narrowed his eyes. “How about we make a deal?”

“Anything,” Kristoff blurted desperately.

“You may have your wife back,” Hades offered, “But, you may not see her until you return to your realm. You will be guided by the ferryman and she'll be in your boat, and once you’ve reached the earthside, she’s yours. If you look back at her before you’ve reached the earthside, then she stays in the underworld permanently.”

“Deal,” he answered without hesitation.

When he blinked, he was back in the boat. He didn’t remember leaving the castle or walking back through the depths of the underworld. He was petrified to look anywhere but straight ahead, and when the boat started moving, he called out to her. “Anna, are you here?”

Miraculously, she responded. “Yes, honey, I’m here.”

Hearing her voice nearly caused him to combust - god, how he missed the sound of her voice. It was almost enough for him to lose control and turn around. “I need to see you.”

“Don’t turn around,” Anna begged. “If you look back at me, then I can’t come home with you. Don’t look back.”

“How can I trust that this isn’t a trick?” he cried. “I need to know that you’re here.”

“I’m here,” she promised. “Keep your eyes closed until it’s safe.”

“How will I know when it’s safe?”

“I’ll tell you. Don’t open them until I say so, okay? Promise me that you won’t open your eyes until I tell you to.”

“I promise,” he agreed, trembling from the stress. He closed his eyes, unsure of what he would do if he lost her yet again. The one thing he was certain of was that he couldn’t live without her. If he had to take drastic measures to ensure they would be together, then he would do so.

For a long time, the boat ride was quiet. In the short span of time that he’d spent in the underworld, he managed to forget how long and treacherous the journey there was. It was difficult to resist the temptation of turning around and checking to make sure that the god of death had made good on his promise, that the woman he loved was actually in the boat with him.

After what felt like an eternity, she spoke again. “We’re almost there, but don’t look back yet.”

“Okay,” he said, hardly able to hear her over the sound of his pounding heart.

Suddenly, a pair of arms came down around his neck, and soft lips were pressing a kiss to his cheek. He didn’t dare to open his eyes - he couldn’t risk it. If this was some kind of test or trick from the god of the underworld and he opened his eyes, she’d be gone for good.

“You can open your eyes,” she said, pressing her cheek against his. “We’re safe.”

“Are you sure?”

“We’re back on earth,” she assured him. “We’re here, together. I’m alive.”

“Are you sure?” he repeated, his voice strained. “Because if you’re not sure, we’re both going to end up back in the underworld.”

“Touch me,” she begged, freeing her grasp from his neck and bringing his arm up to her face. “It’s me. I’m real.”

Through his touch, he recognized her features; her perfectly smooth skin, the slope of her petite nose, and her plump, kissable lips. “It’s really you?”

“It’s me,” she confirmed with a sniffle. “You can look.”

He slowly blinked his eyes open and the first thing that he noticed was that the water beneath the boat had transformed from black sludge to clear and blue. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see strands of her brilliant red hair, and he heaved a sigh of relief; she was here. He hadn’t been tricked by Hades.

She climbed onto his lap and cupped his jaw with her hands before leaning her forehead against his. “You saved me.”

His arms reflexively wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer, and he momentarily forgot how to breathe; she was alive, and he was touching her, and god, she was even more gorgeous than he remembered. “Oh, Anna, I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” she whimpered, tears cascading down her cheeks. “So much.”

He could feel a lump growing in his throat as he fought to hold back his own tears. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”

“Good,” she sobbed, burying her face in the crook of his neck. He placed a hand on the back of her head, and gently rubbed her back, the boat bobbing from side to side beneath them. When she finally looked up at him with reddened eyes and tear-stained cheeks, she asked, “Can we go home now?”

And then he awoke with a start - he was in their bedroom, unsure of if he had ever really left it. Was it really possible that he dreamt the entire thing? He wasn’t sure - it had felt so real.

Anna was leaning over him, brushing his hair out of his face. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re okay?”

“Of course I’m okay,” she laughed. “Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

He blinked rapidly as he looked around the room, and sure enough, they were still tangled up in their sheets like they had been when they fell asleep the night before. He could feel her body pushed up against him and he knew she was real, but he couldn’t shake the nightmare that had plagued him a few moments prior.  “I don’t know...I think I had a bad dream.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“You d*ed,” he answered shakily. “And I went to the underworld to save you.”

“Oh,” she said, furrowing her eyebrows together. “Did you?”

“I did.”

“That’s good,” she smiled. “You’re a hero.”

“It felt so real, though. It was so vivid, and colorful, and...real. I don’t even know where the entire underworld thing came from - I haven’t read anything related to mythology since I was in, like, high school.”

“Our dreams don’t always make sense,” she assured him. “Last night I dreamt that I was late to take a test, which is funny because I haven’t taken a test since I was in college.”

“It’s just...I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you, Anna, I really don’t.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that because I’m not going anywhere. And if I do die first, I’m going to come back and haunt you.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from you,” he chuckled. “I think that lady in the park yesterday really freaked me out.”

“Oh, you’re gonna get a kick out of this; there was an article about her in the local paper this morning - she got arrested for harassing people in the park. It’s not the first time she’s been arrested for it, either.”

“Really?”

“Oh, yeah, I can even show you the article.” She moved to grab her phone, but he placed his hand over her arm, stopping her.

“It’s okay, I believe you,” he said in a low voice, diverting his eyes away from her.

“It’s really bothering you, huh?”

“A little,” he confessed with a sigh. “It’s such a scary thought.”

“I promise, I’m not going anywhere.” She smiled coyly before sliding her leg over his waist and pushing herself on top of him, so they were lying chest to chest. “Even if you change your mind and decide that you want to get rid of me.”

He reached up and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I definitely don’t want to do that.”

Her lips ghosted against his as she whispered, “Then we have nothing to worry about.”

[sam-loves-fnaf]

Among Us (Ft. Male Reader)

The reader is going to be the Impostor, but how does on become impostor, is it cabin fever? Going crazy in space? or is it an actual alien?

I came up with an idea on how crewmates become impostors and I can’t get it out of my head, so I had to write this. I tried my best, sorry its bad.

------------------------------------------------

Your name is (M/N), and you were once a crewmate. It was a lonely and busy day on the ship, Skeld, you shared with others; there was a sighting, you all discovered a planet. Polus, that's what you and your friends decided to call it, then, the excavation started.

You were alone, doing your tasks until you stumbled upon a box. 'Who put this here' you thought, taking a closer look; it was a toy box, maybe one of the Crewmates left this; you remember that one of your friends had brought a child with him. You shrugged and checked the box; yes, you've seen this box before and know how many toys are inside; it wouldn't hurt to check and make sure that everything is inside.

Opening the box, you at first didn't see anything, so you leaned in and took notice of this strange creature. What the f**k is that thing!? Is it some kind of alien, a parasite maybe? Whatever it is, you should report back about the thing immediately; a sound snapped you out of your thoughts. It was moving and trying to get out! So you did the next best thing...you slammed the chest closed.

Or, at least, you tried to, but it was stopped but a tentacle, you tried, you really did, but your strength wasn't enough as the chest flew open again and it started to wrangle its way out. So know you have the next best option...RUN!

That didn't work either because the weird thing had grabbed your ankle, making you try to shake it off; being distracted, you tripped and fell. It felt strange, slimy, and uncomfortable; the thing was inside your suit! You could feel it climbing, you did your best, but it proved futile; it was an alien on a mission, and whatever it wanted with you, it wasn't going to let you go that easily. It quickly made its way into your helmet and was keeping you from taking it off. Gripping to your face, the thing made its way to its next destination, your mouth.

You couldn't do anything as it was already choking you trying to make its way down your throat. Once that job was finished, and inside, it seems that your body had a protest with the intruder, you felt like something was wrong, your body felt like it's on fire. You wanted to scream, but you couldn't, so you stumbled back to base "(M/N)?" You know that voice, it was your friend (F/N) and his son (S/N) who both ran to you, taking notice of the stumbling. You reached forward but fell that way as well, darkness then enveloped you.

....

......

Opening your eyes, you are greeted with the makeshift room that you occupied. You felt sore like you ran a mile; what happened? You and the others found a planet, Polus, you guys called it. Landing on the new world, an exploration had started, you went off by yourself and saw a chest. It was...a toy chest, wasn't it? And inside...that, thing, the parasite.

Parasite!! It did something to you, but what? Now that you thought about, you felt unusual, different. Taking off the helmet, you looked into a mirror, and you gave a look of horror. Your skin was pale, a looks like your dying, pale. Your eyes weren't their usual (E/C) anymore; they were red and glowed somewhat; on top of that, you remembered having two eyes, not six! A gasp left your mouth gaping, but even that proved to be a mistake. Sharp teeth, and when you say sharp, I mean sharp, it seemed, to you, that your teeth could easily break skin and bone you could rip someone's throat out with those chompers. Your tongue was long and sharp, touching the tip of your tongue, yep that was blood on your finger; it was basically a needle.

What...What happened? What did that thing do to you? Why is this happening? Why- you hear the door open, making you whip your head to see (F/N) who's now staring at you with fear.

"W-Who are you!?"

"W-Wait (F/N) p-please it's me! (M/N)"

"...What...What happened to you!?"

You told him everything, from when you went off alone, to when you fainted in front of him.

"I-I don't know, its probably t-that parasite. I'm scared (F/N)...w-what's happening to me..."

You told him, gripping your helmet tightly, tears glistening in your eyes. You slowly fall to your knees, all of your thoughts racing through your mind.

'What is everyone going to think?'

'Am I going to die?'

'Will (S/N) be scared of me?'

'How dangerous am I?'

So caught up in your thoughts, you didn't hear the door close and lock. You flinched, feeling a hand on your back, you looked up at the worried face of your friend.

"(M/N) calm down, man, breath."

You did as (F/N) said, slowly calming down.

"Don't worry about the others, just keep the helmet on and it should be fine."

You look at your helmet, it has a blacked-out visor that makes it hard to look at your face, you put it back on and nod.

-Time Skip-

Things went swimmingly after that; no one suspected anything; you all carried on with tasks and made it back to the ship, going on your voyage back to earth with your findings.

It was quiet; you and (F/N) told (S/N) about what happened to you in secret, so the poor boy doesn't get scared of your changes; the child found you cool, actually, which made you smile. Everything was excellent until the alarm went off; running to the front, it wasn't hard to take notice of a missing crewmate.

"I have found (R/C) dead. We need to find the impostor."

Dead!? What? But who would do that? The once peaceful atmosphere has now gone sour. Everyone looked at everyone, and people are getting suspicious of one another, causing a lot of discord.

As time went by, more and more crewmates dropped. You and the remaining crewmates are now sitting in another meeting.

"I think it's (R/C)!"

"What? Why me!?"

"You were with (D/C/N) before they were found dead."

"Bullsh**!"

"SHUT UP!!!"

It was complete chaos; everyone was fighting and yelling; you looked to (F/N), who's trying to keep his son calm amongst the yelling and finger-pointing.

"GET (R/C) OFF THIS SHIP!"

"WHAT NO!"

You and (F/N) watched in horror as two crewmates grabbed (R/C) and dragged him out, throwing him out into the void of space. The anti has been upped, everyone was losing their minds.

-Time Skip-

Someone called an emergency meeting, and like everything else, it was chaos. (F/N) and (R/C2) were yelling at each other, you were holding (S/N), keeping him calm.

"LOOK AT US, WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO!? I CAN'T KEEP MY SON IN THESE CONDITIONS!"

"WE HAVE OUR OWN PROBLEMS TO DEAL WITH (F/N) WHO CARES ABOUT YOUR BRAT."

Now that was going too, you tried to stop (F/N), but it was too late; the male had already jumped at (R/C2) with the intent of pain.

"GET HIM OFF ME AND GET HIM OFF MY SHIP!"

"HEY, LET ME GO!!"

"DADDY!"

"WHOA WHOA EVERYONE CALM DOWN!!"

"IMPOSTOR, GET THAT IMPOSTOR OUT OF HERE!!"

Everyone was yelling, at least there was another that was with me, but it seems that minds won't be changed.

"W-Wait, let me say something first...please."

(F/N) looks at his son.

"I guess I won't be there for you...I'm sorry, but be good too (M/N), okay? I love you, son, happy Birthday."

"*hic* daddy, don't go *hic*."

(F/N) smiles before getting tossed out, you stared as the floats by, all of your memories with (F/N) has flashed through your very being.

When you first met him through your parents, you both got very close as you both grew up. You remember when he got his first and only girlfriend, it was like they were made for each other; they were together for years until they got married, you were his best man and was right by his side. You were there for him when he and his wife had (S/N), you were given the honor of being the godfather.  You were there for him in his bad times, when his b**ch of a wife cheated on him. You helped him gain custody of his son and went with him on this space voyage program. Still, now you stand here in the present, people have died, you changed into this thing, and now you watched your friend die not only in front of you but in front of his own son.

You felt a hand on your shoulder, making you turn around (R/C3), the one who wanted to stop what happened just as much as yourself and the boy who's crying on your shoulder. You smiled at her.

"I'm sorry about what happened."

"Thanks for trying. Hey, can you help me with something?"

"Sure, what is it?"

"Can you help me make a cake?"

You see, the female astronaut tilts her head but nods anyway."

-Time Skip-

You brought the cake to the cafeteria where the child was sitting. Said child was looking down at the table; you sat the cake down in front of him; you know that the female astronaut is behind you watching. You softly hum and sadly start to sing.

"Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday dear (S/N)...Happy Birthday to you...I'm so sorry (S/N)...I'm sorry."

You can hear the gasp from the female who now took in the situation. You got up and sat back down beside the child, hugging him closely, not noticing the way the female has her hands clenched into fists with a newfound hatred for that man that threw out (F/N).

After a while, you went walking while (S/N) was sleeping. Shuffling, you heard shuffling, speeding up, you ran into what seemed to be a fight; the female astronaut and (R/C4) were fighting, the female having the knife was winning. She killed (R/C4) as (R/C2) walked in and yelled at her in surprise. An argument started, which escalated into another fight. The discussion was about (S/N) and (F/N) how (R/C1) threw out the father on his son's Birthday and for no reason as well.

You watch as the female crewmate was beaten down and is now being left there to die. Now it was you, (S/N), (R/C1), and (R/C5)

"That's enough, we are finding that brat and getting rid of him."

They are planning to kill (S/N), no, no, you will not let that happen; he's the only thing that can keep you sane on this rollercoaster of bullsh**.  That can't happen, it won't happen. Wrong, you feel wrong; a growl bubble up from your throat and you the middle of your suit ripped, a mouth that was just like your own opened up; stumbling into the room, everyone looked at you, their faces turned into horror.

You stumbled in the room and removed your helmet, the thought of (S/N) dying has pushed you over the edge.

"You're not touching a hair on his head." You growled lowly, with a glare. You attacked.

Rip and Tear, Rip and Tear, the screams are music to you, the blood sprayed the walls and floors as (R/C1), and (R/C5) dies. You calmed down and blinked, looking around, you started to shake.

"Hey, Hey...calm down."

It was the female astronaut.

"I need to tell you something...please take off your helmet."

You did what the dying woman wishes and take off your helmet. Looking at her, your eyes staring at her.

"There's an escape pod on this ship, use it, get back to earth, give that boy a life he deserves."

You nodded as she smiles and lays there. Leaving the room, you cleaned up to get the blood off, packed not only yours but (S/N) and (F/N)'s things; putting them in the pod, you picked up (S/N) and went inside the pod closing it. You sigh and sat at the chair and push the launch button, as you both are now heading for earth. You are going to raise (S/N) for (F/N) and for (R/C3), and no ones gonna stop you if anyone wants to get in the way...

Well, they are just going to have to pry the boy from your cold dead hands.

------------------

Headcanons for this story:

Headcanon 1-To be the impostor the parasite will have to get your body, based on how you are as a person can change. You can be yourself, but have the parasite change your body, or the parasite takes over.

Headcanon 2-The second Impostor is just someone who has gone crazy.

Headcanon 3-The Impostor can breath Oxygen, but it will make them lose breath quicker than it is when they are on the planet Polus.

Headcanon 4-Its hard, but they can look human.

Headcanon 5-There’s a black line in the middle of your stomach, that’s where the skin rips open for the mouth.

Headcanon 6-You can eat with your own mouth or the one on your stomach, either way nothing changes.

Headcanon 7-Get too mad and you may foam at the mouth, don’t ask why.

Headcanon 8-You can also eat people or eat food, either or is sustainable for you

Headcanon 9-I might make OC's based on the reader, (F/N), (S/N), and (F/N)'s wife

[dmsden]

Go Weird or Go Home – Encouraging players to make unusual character choices

Hullo, Gentle Readers. This week’s Question from a Denizen comes from an Anonymous reader who asks, “I am currently preparing to run a campaign for the ttrpg “Quest” (a stripped down fantasy game). In it, there are no races to pick from and you’re encouraged to make your own races for flavor. How do I encourage my players to not just be humans and to go weird?”

Well, Anonymous, I am going to first answer that question with two of my own:

1.       Why?

2.       Are you sure that’ll be a problem?

Allow me to explain what I’m asking and why.

The reason I ask, “Why?” is because I don’t see there being anything wrong with having human protagonists. Look at Star Wars. There are droids and aliens who’re important characters, sure, but all the main characters are human. In many fantasy novels, there are non-human characters, but most of the main characters are human. And there’s a good reason for that – we’re really good at identifying with humans, because we’re humans ourselves.

While I can understand wanting there to be some variety, since this is fantasy, there’s nothing wrong with having humans in the group. Someone once asked me why I didn’t just change everything in a fantasy game world – make the sky red, have north be south, etc. I explained that, when everything is different, there’s nothing familiar to hold onto.

I could tell you that my campaign world doesn’t have water – it has a gelatinous substance called blubar that creatures flounder through instead. And instead of fire, there was a blue jelly called narff that was used to heat food. And instead of air…

You get the idea. If I do all that…if I replace pretty much everything familiar with something different and strange, then nothing that my players encounter will feel different and strange. To paraphrase Syndrome from the Incredibles, when everything is special, nothing is. So having familiar grounding elements is important, so that, when it rains laughter or a waterfall flows upwards, then the players will say, “Wow, that’s cool!”

On the flip side of that, I’m curious if you actually think your players will gravitate towards humans. When I started my current D&D campaign, the party consisted of a human, a half-elf, a halfling, a minotaur, a shifter, and a shardmind. Now, we’ve lost the human and shifter and gained a tiefling and a frost dwarf. In my experience, players like to play things that’re strange and unusual.

In an earlier article, I mentioned a LARP I played in where there was a race that I believe was described as usually having black skin, but, very rarely, having purple skin. Every player who played in that race had purple skin. Why? Because many players want to be the exception.

Judging by personal experience, I suspect that, if your players have free rein, you’re likely to end up with an elf, two kobolds, a talking raccoon, and a hyper-intelligent shade of the color blue.

If you do want to get them to play different things, and you think they might need encouragement, I would do two things:

First, I would create a number of choices, but also make sure that the players know they can make up their own idea as well. Just like it’s pretty rare to find a D&D party made up entirely of humans, I think you’ll find players will flock to other options if they know they have options. My husband once famously ignored the two dozen options I presented him at the beginning of a D&D campaign to ask if he could play a stork that had been raised by gnomes and that had mechanical arms. Players love options, but they love doing their own thing, as well.

Second, if you don’t want humans, I would offer an incentive to players who play something other than a human. I don’t know Quest, so I don’t know what resources you could tempt players with, but I think that offering something like bonus experience points, some low level magic items, or other tidbits will pretty much guarantee you’ll be lacking for humans.

I hope this helps, Anonymous. I may have to take a look at Quest. Sounds like it might be fun.

[franstastic-ideas]

Bitty Blues

Bittybones AU, Underswap Frisk and Chara - Fresh out of college, Chara drags Frisk to an adoption center in hopes that her lonely friend will take to one of the bitties there, but only after Chara promises to buy Frisk lunch for her troubles. After looking through the center for a while, they encounter a Blueberry, a rescue with abandonment issues that develops a near instant attraction to Frisk. His HP is unusually and dreadfully low for a Blueberry, so much so that the staff worry that one more heartbreak may reduce him to dust.

Word Count: 19,834

Warnings: This story does feature a rescue bitty, so there are some narrative elements that may be upsetting to readers. Another rescue bitty has a malnourished and mangled appearance and is described as such.

It seemed like everyone around her had become enraptured with bitties. No matter where she looked, she would see happy people with happy little monsters riding on someone's shoulders, resting in the pockets of shirts, or peeking curiously out of an open bag. They were everywhere.

And if Frisk were to be honest, she didn't get it.

Frisk didn't resent the little creatures, not at all. But she didn't understand the appeal, either. Squealing over the tiny clothes they wore, watching them nibble on the bite-sized food they ate, the social media accounts one would come across at each corner of the internet filled to the brim with snapshots capturing the bitty's every action… it was all lost on her. And the disappointed or sympathetic looks she more than often received when she didn't begin cooing whenever one was shoved in her face was something Frisk couldn't totally wrap her head around either.

Frisk didn't hate bitties. She didn't even remotely dislike them.

She just didn't want one.

A loner is what most called her. She was always alone, nose shoved in a book or looking at a screen instead of talking to the people around her. Soft-spoken and only speaks when spoken to, that was Frisk. These traits made people believe she was either shy or had an attitude that needed fixing, but the truth was, interacting with others was just too much for her to deal with.

Frisk liked being alone. Why was that so difficult to comprehend?

She doesn't ever wonder what having lots of friends is like… not at all. She pitied these lonely humans with their bitties, if she felt anything towards them at all.

~~~~~~~~~~

Frisk had just finished up her final class of her last semester of college; she was free from the institution of education and walking out of the building with a bachelor's. From this point onward, she could no longer be called a 'college kid' and was officially considered a responsible adult ready to join the workforce – fun.

Interrupting this thought was the abrupt and blurred image of a shoulder bag whizzing past her vision, knocking the book she was reading out of her hands as the heavy bag fell into her lap, and a wild red-headed girl wearing a green striped sweater scrambling for the spot next to her on the bench she was sitting on.

Chara.

"Frisk, what is UP my depressed homeslice?!" She hollered, throwing an arm around Frisk's waist and yanking her to her side.

Though Frisk found it difficult to believe herself at times, this woman was one of the few constants in her life. She was three years younger, but she was taller and stronger than her. Frisk has known her for a long time now, since childhood even. Could she call her a friend? Perhaps. She considered herself Frisk's friend, and she wasn't shy about telling anyone either. Depending on the day and her current moodset, sometimes this sentiment was shared.

Truthfully, she was more like a sister to Frisk. A sister she never really asked for, but appreciated nonetheless. And that was what she called Frisk – her sister. Whenever Chara introduced her to some decidedly uninterested third party, she always referred to her as her friend and then sister, switching from one to the other, before ultimately settling for the tacked on term 'sister-friend'.

"Waiting for the bus." Frisk replied blandly, already far too accustomed to her odd greetings by now. She shuffled uncomfortably, gesturing to the bag that was now in her lap. "Chara, what is in this? It has to weigh twenty pounds, minimum."

"Oh, that. Yeah." She nodded sagely, lifting it from her lap as if it were full of feathers instead of whatever was actually in there. "It's my bitty bag. I went shopping for more supplies earlier, so it's a little heavier than it usually is."

"And knowing this, you decided to dump it on me?" She inquired, already knowing the answer as she bent over to retrieve her fallen book.

"Pretty much, yeah." Chara grinned, not the least bit sorry for knocking the wind out of her with it.

Frisk then took a glance at her shoulder; it was missing a certain pocket-sized skeleton monster that was always perched there. That bitty was almost all she ever talked about these days, ever since she adopted him last September on her birthday. Taking the bothersome bitty home was how she chose to celebrate her day of birth, the best present she ever received from herself is what she called him.

She had become a bitty enthusiast practically since the moment she first learned of their existence, spending most of her spare time volunteering at the local center that housed the creatures, and became even more immersed after the official announcement came that the miniature monsters were to become adoptable to anyone who could provide them a loving home, and Chara had a lot of love to give.

So it really astonished Frisk when she stepped out of the center in possession of a bitty who couldn't have been more contrasting to her personality. Frisk was unabashedly uneducated when it came to matters concerning bitties, but she was convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that she had selected the meanest, most ornery one in existence with one of the illest tempers she had ever seen out of anyone; man or monster. He was loud, commandeering, and had a jealousy streak that stretched a mile wide.

Noticing her lingering gaze, Chara then supplied the other girl with an answer to her unspoken question. "You're wondering where Bossanova is? He's in trouble. He bit a guy yesterday while we were out on a walk, so he's earned himself a nice long time out at home so he can think about what he did."

She wanted to tell Chara that probably wasn't the wisest decision she could have made. Frisk wouldn't be surprised at all if she came home to find her room in shambles from one of that bitty's tantrums.

Frisk definitely didn't get the bitty craze, and Chara's own affections for Bossanova might have cemented her already developed opinions on the phenomenon even further. What on Earth did she see as endearing in a creature about the size of a soda bottle that would bite any man that got within ten feet of her?

"Sooooo…" She began, leaning her head on top of Frisk's, the scattered and plentiful faux golden flower ornaments fastened in her hair dangling in front of her friend's face and brushing up against her nose. "You're all done with college now, right? You know what that means? We should celebrate!"

Oh no. With the word 'celebrate', Frisk already knew where this was going. That's why her bag was so heavy! She wasn't buying supplies for herself, no, as if she would ever let Bossanova run that low on bittycare products. This woman was absolutely determined to set her up with some manner of bitty by the day's end, that was her plan from the very beginning!

"No." Frisk answered before she could go any further with her idea.

"You didn't even let me finish!" She whined loudly.

"Because I already know what you're about to suggest and the answer is 'no', we've been through this. I don't want a pet bitty."

"Bitties aren't pets, Frisk. They're sapient beings with their own individual thoughts and personalities. Pets also can't have verbal conversations with their owners, either. …Unless it's a parrot, but still, you know what I mean."

"They're kept behind glass pens and they still cost money, I know that much."

"I know the whole keeping them in pens thing makes them sound animalistic, but they're not. They're nice and clean, and they don't look like pens at all really, at least not the kind that you would see in an actual pet store. And the reason why they cost money is mostly just a system instated to ensure that the chosen bitty will go to a home that can financially provide for them, and the centers can't run themselves on just donations, Frisk. They're. Not. Pets."

"Even so, I still don't want one."

"Come ON, Frisk! Just give the idea some thought instead of shooting it down like a fully loaded fighter jet every time!" Chara booped her nose, then moved to squish her cheek against Frisk's. Frisk was beginning to feel uncomfortable. "You always look so sad and lonely. Even when we were kids, you had that kind of gray funk around you. Don't even try to deny it, you know it's true."

Chara pressed her index finger against Frisk's lips when she opened her mouth to protest further. If Frisk had less dignity, she would have considered biting her. That's what Chara would probably do if it was her finger, and she should be used to it with all the time she spends around Bossanova anyway.

Instead of bringing herself down to the level of Chara or a rabid bitty, Frisk instead grabbed her hand, not forcefully though, and slowly pushed it back towards her.

"Please stop, this is getting weird."

"It got your attention, though. Didn't it?" She smiled at her with false innocence. "Please, Frisk? I know you think I'm being pushy, but I really am just thinking of your best interests. You've always had such a hard time talking to people, but monsters, they're different, I'm telling you. It's hard to explain, but it's like… they see the real you in a way that most humans just can't and won't make the effort to try to do. The people we come across think you're all sour and prickly and, well, a wet blanket. And so do I, sometimes."

"Gee, thanks."

"And you are all of those things, but only on the outside." Chara continued, completely ignoring her sarcastic remark. "The real Frisk is a soft squishy marshmallow that wears a full-body suit made of cactus so all the meanness in the world doesn't wear her down. Any time somebody gets too close, they get full of needles. Except for me, of course! I've known you long enough to see through all your self-defense mechanisms that are really more self-destructive mechanisms at this point."

"…Chara, what exactly is your point?" Frisk asked after a beat, not willing to admit that a lot of what she just said, while incredibly bizarre, was also terribly accurate.

"My point is that I've kept you all to myself for all these years, but now the time's come to share you with someone that'll actually appreciate you for who you are." She declared with confidence as she puffed out her chest, one hand on her hip and the other reaching up to pat Frisk on the head.

"And this someone… is a bitty."

It wasn't a question.

"Yup!" Chara bobbed her head.

"No."

"Yes!" She argued, standing up to tower over Frisk while pointing a finger at her nose, pressing and poking it. "Listen, I get that you think Bossanova is a handful, and he is. He's a little monster in every literal and figurative sense imaginable, but there are a lots of different kinds and classifications of bitties! There's Sansies and Ruses and Blueberries and…and…! Look, I have a theory that there's a bitty out there for everyone! Every decent person, that is. And you're a decent person, even if you don't think so yourself. So we're going to get on that bus, go to that adoption center, and we're going to find you the bitty that you're destined to fall in love with! Have I made myself clear?!"

"Chara-"

"H a v e  I  m a d e  m y s e l f  c l e a r...?"

"…"

Frisk avoided her intense gaze, looking anywhere else but her for the longest time.

Chara plopped back down next to her with a loud sigh, giving Frisk's hand that was closest to her a little tap. When she didn't respond, Chara wiggled her own hand into her's and gave it a squeeze.

"How about this: we just take a look around and see how that goes? And if you really don't want to, you don't have to play or interact with any of them. Just look around, that's it. You've never even been inside before, so at least check the place out before rejecting the idea of adopting entirely. And if you still insist afterward that you don't want anything to do with adopting a bitty, I'll never bring it up to you ever again, promise."

"…"

Frisk bit your lip. The offer was tempting. She wouldn't even have to do anything; just humor Chara for the afternoon and she'd leave the issue alone forever. And she could agree with her on one thing; she hadn't ever seen the interior of an adoption center, so just walking around inside didn't sound like too bad of a time. Like a petting zoo featuring micro skeleton monsters. But still…

"…I'll buy you dinner after?"

"Okay."

~~~~~~~~~~

Chara was practically vibrating in her seat. She chattered animatedly about the different kinds of bitties the center had available while her friend halfway listened to her ramblings. With how excited she was, it almost made Frisk feel guilty over the very large likelihood of coming out of the building holding the same opinion on adopting as she did before.

Admittedly, she had, on occasion, wondered what it would be like to have one of the pygmy skeletons in her company, but only after a while of seeing Chara together with Bossanova. She had always been a happy person, but after he entered her life, her joy had increased threefold. Then Frisk began to look around her and see other people happy in the company of their bitties, and the bitties happy and enjoying their company just as much.

Seeing this never-ending circle of happiness unfold around her, it made Frisk want to experience a little bit of that happiness for herself…

But her awkwardness around others was bound to extend to bitties as well. She tried to make conversation, but her attempts always fell flat. It seemed as though she always said the wrong thing, she cared too little or too much about a subject matter, she came off as too clingy one moment and too aloof the next. Relationships of any kind were far too difficult for her to deal with, she surmised.

It was just so much easier to push everyone away. But Chara, she had to be different. She was the only one that pushed back. And she kept pushing until she landed in Frisk's good graces, earned her trust. For years now, Chara's been her only friend, and Frisk was content with that.

But after all that talk of having her to herself for years and it being time to share her with somebody else, Frisk couldn't help but wonder…

Was Chara's relentless endeavoring to convince her of adopting a bitty Chara's way of getting some breathing room? Was their friendship actually smothering her now and she's simply too kind to admit it?

"We're here!" She nearly squealed in Frisk's ear before grabbing her arm, dragging her off the bus and away from her internal monologue. Chara then commenced shoving her towards the adoption center's front doors.

It looked small from the outside, but Frisk knew from Chara's numerous recountings of her previous trips here that there was much, much more space on the inside. It would have to be a big place if it held at least half of all the different varieties of bitties she remembered Chara telling her about in the past half hour, and she hadn't even been listening to most of her rantings during that time, so Frisk was certain she hadn't picked up the names of every one she mentioned.

The bell at the top of the door jingled when it was opened, alerting the keeper of the establishment, the mama, as she recalled Chara explaining. Apparently being the mama didn't require being female, because a very much male arachnid monster wearing a crisp white pocketed apron hurried over to greet them.

"Hi, Chara! I wasn't expecting to see you back so soon. Weren't you here just earlier today?" He then noticed Frisk and sent a toothy smile her way. "My name is Webber. You must be Frisk, right? Chara talks about you all the time whenever she stops by. You were a very cute baby!"

At Webber's sugary-sweet giggle, she slowly turned her head towards Chara in a manner that must have looked like a real-life reenactment of the iconic scene from The Exorcist, who only gave her a goofy face in response to an action that would have greatly disturbed literally anyone else.

"You showed the employees here my baby pictures…?" Frisk hissed between her teeth.

"Yeah." She replied, gleefully pulling out her wallet from her back pocket and unfolding it to pluck out one of the photographs. "He's right, though. You were a really cute baby!"

"Why do you even carry that around with you?!"

"Because you're my sister and I love you."

"…I love you too." Frisk mumbled in defeat, figuring there was no use in getting mad at her over it now; what's done is done.

"So, are you here to browse, or…?" Webber decided to steer the conversation towards something more on topic, his hands clasped and a hopeful sparkle in his eyes - his very many eyes.

Frisk nervously toyed with the collar of her shirt. "I'm actually just here to look-"

"She's kind of on the fence about it!" Chara butted in. "We're going to look around and see if there's any bitty she takes a shine to. I'm sure there's got to be one that she's bound to love with all the different types here."

"We do have a very large selection available, my hands can definitely attest to that! Always busy!" Webber grinned, waving his six hands at her. "It's actually a lot easier to just list the types that aren't here. Even so, I think a bitty of every kind that we know about has been in this building at least once."

Frisk had a feeling she was going to be here for a while, if Chara has her way. She'll most likely insist that they view each and every classification of bitty kept here before allowing her to leave the adoption center's grounds.

"…Hey, Chara? Where's Bossanova?" The spider monster asked as he pointed to her shoulder, now noticing the small skeleton's absence. "He wasn't with you the first time you were here today either…"

"He's been grounded." She answered with a huff. "He bit a guy yesterday while we were out on a walk, so now he's in trouble."

"Oh dear… You do know he only does that because he sees you as his partner and he's upset over what he perceives as competition, right?"

"Yeah, I know. It's flattering sometimes, but really, the poor guy was just asking for directions. It's not like he was flirting with me or anything, even though I am irresistable."

"Oh my stars, Chara…" Frisk thought with an internal eyeroll.

Even though Frisk knew Chara was just joking, well, mostly, she was also right. Chara herself flirted playfully, but she was ironically incredibly dense when it came to others flirting with her. She couldn't differentiate between a serious or teasing atmosphere, so she opted to believe that the latter was always the case, frustrating those that had their eyes on her immensely.

Chara was beautiful and kind, everything that Frisk wasn't. It was obvious to Frisk why she would have a drove of admirers. Of course, since Bossanova's adoption, he did an exceptional job of keeping said admirers at bay despite his small size. At least she could trust in him that he would keep any and all creeps away from her precious sister.

As the discussion over Bossanova stretched on with no conclusion in close sight, Frisk decided to wander away from the two for the time being and check out the center's interior for herself. She soon found herself in a room that was somewhat small for a group composed of a few people, but immensely spacious for a pack of bitties. The walls were painted with soft colors, pastels, and on them were images of stars, fluffy clouds, and other things like what one would expect to find in a nursery. Was this where they kept the children bitties?

If she was ever coerced into adopting a bitty, it wasn't going to be a child. She had little patience for small children, but she supposed there wasn't any harm to be found in looking around.

Frisk quietly tip-toed further into the room towards the nearest pen housing a solitary bitty, all by its lonesome. Leaning closer to examine the monster, it was rather… big for a bitty. It was larger and bulkier than most of the bitties she had seen before, about the size of a teddy bear. She was beginning to have doubts about this one being a baby.

A blanket was thrown over its body and its head was shoved under a pillow, its form almost entirely concealed to her. The bitty's fidgeting was near constant in its slumber, when suddenly, it froze. It remained still as a statue for several long moments. The seconds dragged on, and when those seconds reached minutes was when she wondered if the poor thing had accidentally smothered itself with that pillow in its sleep.

Could skeleton monsters even die of asphyxiation?

Before she could grow too concerned, however, it moved again. The bitty tore off the blanket covering its body and threw the pillow to the side, revealing its full appearance to her – a stocky skeleton monster with a huge, glaring red eye, an unsettlingly wide, toothy grin, and a gaping hole in its head.

"Nope, definitely not a baby!" Frisk thought with growing horror as she jumped away from the pen with a yelp.

This wasn't in any way a nursery, she realized too late. If she had payed attention at all to Chara on the bus ride here, she would have known. This adoption center didn't have children bitties in their care, so they wouldn't need a nursery – this was the room for rescues.

The disfigured bitty didn't seem bothered by Frisk's reaction in the slightest, rising up on its two feet to make its way over to her. There was a thick layer of glass separating the two, but that did little to comfort her in this situation. The monster's glowing eye was trained on Frisk, focused and unwavering as it stepped closer. The bitty didn't stop until it reached the wall of its pen, fully pressing itself up against the glass.

"hhhhiiiiiiiiiiiiiii….." The bitty drawled in a deep gutteral tone, smiling at her with a nauseating grin.

There was something clinging to the corners of its mouth; it was either pillow stuffing or he was foaming at the mouth. Frisk slowly backed away from the pen with hands raised in a defensive position, continuing to do so even as the bitty's hands made frantic clawing and grabbing motions at her. On her way out, she bumped into something, whirled around, and let out a scream she didn't even know she had been holding.

"Sorry! Sorry!" It was just Webber. "I didn't mean to scare you! That's, uh, that's Chopper over there. …I can see you two have already met." He winced, taking in the expression on her face, which must have been ghastly.

Chara poked her head in swiftly after. "Did you find Frisk, Webber?"

All Frisk could do was weakly point a trembling finger towards Chopper before rushing forward and throwing her arms around Chara's neck as she tried not to start bawling. Chara wrapped her own around Frisk and began patting the other girl's back and smoothing her hair.

"I know how you feel, Frisk. The first time in the rescue room is always the toughest. I wish you hadn't seen this, not today and not like this."

That sweet little domestic image Frisk held of all the bitties living blissfully alongside their owners had just been shattered – how could someone do this to a bitty?

"…What kind of bitty is he?" Chara inquired curiously after a few minutes of her and Webber making a team effort to calm Frisk down. "He looks like a Sansy, but…"

"That's because he was a Sansy…" Webber began to explain, wringing his apron nervously with his two lowermost hands. "Sometimes certain classifications of bitties come to be when certain conditions are met. In his case, he was a Sansy that became an Axe type bitty due to near starvation and receiving a severe blow to the head. It was a miracle that he survived at all."

"The person that did this to him needs to be dragged out into the streets and shot." Chara immediately replied, perhaps a bit too cheerfully.

Frisk and Webber gazed at her, gobsmacked, along with some of the other bitties in the room. Her remark was so sudden, not to mention disturbing, even Chopper ceased rubbing his face against the glass of his pen to peer at her quizzically with widened eyesockets.

"Er, um, I think you've seen enough of the rescue room today, right, Frisk?" Webber stuttered, looking at anywhere else but Chara at the moment. He then crouched down in front of the now identified Axe bitty and spoke to him in a gentle, encouraging tone, "Say goodbye to Frisk, Chopper."

"b-bye-b-b-bbyyyeeeee…" He managed to choke out, his vocalization almost sounding like a sob.

Frisk whispered a barely audible 'bye' in return before following Webber and Chara out of the room.

She missed the tearful look in Chopper's eyes as he watched her go, his phalanges still making small frantic grabbing motions against the glass wall of his pen at her retreating figure.

~~~~~~~~~~

"…That was horrible." Frisk whispered, every bone in her body quaking.

"I'm so sorry… I usually lock that door. And the one time I don't, somebody new here finds themselves in there, of all places..." Webber wasn't certain whether it would be alright to touch her or not, so his hands hovered about unsurely.

"No, I shouldn't have wandered off in the first place. …I'll be fine. Maybe seeing some happy and healthy bitties would help…?" She offered, anything to get her mind off of the manifestation of humanity's depraved cruelty that was present in that room.

"You still want to?" Chara asked, to which Frisk gave a wordless nod in return. "Alright, but if you need to just let it all out, let me know, okay?" She turned to the arachnid monster. "I can take things from here Webber. I'll show Frisk around the adoption center. I know this place better than the back of my hand!"

"Okay, but if you need me at all, give me a shout or a poke and I'll be there." He called, still concerned as he rushed off to carry out his other duties as the mama of the establishment.

"How about we go see the Sansies, huh?" Chara suggested as she unceremoniously shoved Frisk in the direction of the Sansy pen.

The bitties in this pen were much shorter than Chopper, about the height of your average can of soda, but they had the same thick-boned structure. However, a layer of chub was visible on their stomachs that was absent on the Axe bitty she had encountered. These Sansies seemed to be healthy, that much Frisk could take comfort in.

They seemed content behind the glass of their enclosure as well. Among their utilities was a kiddie pool where one of them was dozing off in a doughnut floatie and another was reclining in a miniature folding chair while appearing to be pretending to sunbathe. The others were either lounging about in various positions, napping outright, or speaking to each other in deep, soft mumbles. They weren't very active bitties, were they?

"A Sansy might be a good match for you, Frisk." Chara spoke, causing some of the little skeletons to turn your way. "They're lazy and round, and they're supposed to be low maintenance. Then again, all bitties are different, even if they are the same type. You might adopt one and end up with a spoiled little prince of a Sansy."

"…Do they bite?" She questioned.

"Only if you deserve it." Chara gave her another encouraging push forward. "Sansies are one of the mildest mannered bitties there is. I can count all the cases I've heard of one biting somebody on one hand."

"yeah, i don't bite, kid." One of the bitties assured as he sauntered towards them, a relaxed grin on his face as he craned his neck up to look at Frisk, topping off his statement with a wink.

The Sansy held both hands behind his back and bounced from one foot to the other, him staring up at her and her staring back. After a long moment of silence, his grin began to slip just a little around the corners as he gazed at her expectantly.

"…I think he wants you to pick him up." Chara whispered not so discreetly in Frisk's ear.

"Is that allowed?" She asked incredulously.

"Uh, yeah, it is." Chara snorted as if her inquiry was a completely ridiculous thing to wonder about.

Frisk stole a glance at the Sansy, who was still patiently waiting for the girl to reach down and take him in her hands.

"Go on, I know you wanna poke his belly." Chara repeatedly elbowed her with a grin.

She did, in fact, kind of want to poke his belly, but wouldn't that be kind of rude? But more importantly, it seemed Frisk was the only one out of the three of them present that acknowledged how much could go wrong with this scenario. What if she accidentally dropped him? What if he landed on his head? What if his impact with the floor resulted in the shattering of his skull? He might turn into an Axe variant, just like the one in the rescue room, and all because she hadn't been careful enough with him.

Why was she the only one that seemed to be seriously considering that very real possibility? Did these bitties have any sense of self-preservation in them? Were they really that trusting towards complete strangers to not hurt them?

"…What if I drop him?" Frisk unintentionally voiced her fear aloud.

"You won't drop him." Chara held back a laugh, trying to take her concern seriously but failing – to her, it would be impossible for Frisk to hurt a bitty even by accident with how cautious she was around them.

"hey, look at me for a sec, pal." The Sansy grinned up at her. "you're not gonna hurt me. not even the littlest bitty. everything's going tibia ok."

"…Was that a pun?"

"Sansies love concocting horrible puns. It's their specialty." Chara chimed in. "That's why they're so popular. They've got that jokey demeanor that's somehow also uplifting and reassuring, or that's what I've heard. I didn't adopt a Sansy, so I can't speak from experience."

They were both looking at Frisk anticipatingly now – she was promised that she wouldn't have to interact with any of the bitties if she didn't wish it, and Chara wouldn't force her to if she put her foot down about it, but seeing that Sansy looking up at her with just the tiniest spark of hope in his eyelights made Frisk want to muster up the determination to try.

Gingerly, she bent her upper body over the top of the pen and lowered her hand until it was beside him. He smiled, the wide grin he had been wearing appearing more genuine somehow as he toddled over to the outstretched palm. Rather than climb right into the awaiting hand, he took a moment to gently rub his bony cheek against the tips of her fingers, causing Frisk's hand to twitch and skin to tingle at the contact.

Chara was practically vibrating in place like a bottle of soda about to burst as she watched the interactions between her and the bitty unfold. Frisk could tell she was doing her best not to let out a squeal of delight.

Frisk stared down at the bitty sadly; she couldn't help it. These poor little skeleton monsters with their fragile bones were entirely at the mercy of anyone that walked out with one. Did they know that? Were they even aware of the fact that any of them could end up as one of those Axe variants if they were unfortunate enough to be taken home by a person with enough violence and apathy in them? Maybe it was better for them to stay behind the safety of the walls of their pen instead of risking them being handed out to humans with evil intentions.

A brief and horrifying image of this kind little Sansy that had taken the time and effort to speak with her morphing into an exact replica of Chopper flashed in Frisk's mind before she could stop it.

Just as the Sansy was about to take a seat on her palm, she jerked her hand out of the pen, resulting in him falling backwards and onto his rear. He whipped his head up at Frisk with widened eyesockets and that seemingly permanent grin he wore wiped off, looking for some sort of explanation for her sudden change of heart.

"…I've changed my mind. I don't need to be touching or poking around at anybody here. It's just too much excitement for a first-timer like me."

"…'s alright. i get it. no pressure." The bitty shrugged, trying not to look dejected for her sake as he stood up to rub at his sore tailbone.

She realized then that he had just passed up the opportunity to make another bad pun by correcting you with 'don't you mean any bitty here?'. Her rejection had actually stung so much that he had lost any and all desire to make a joke, something his entire classification of bitty was supposed to enjoy doing and were renown for.

It's all she knew how to do, it seemed – hurt people in some shape or form.

"Chara and I are going to check out the rest of the center, so…" She trailed off awkwardly.

"'k. have fun…" The Sansy replied in a dull tone, shoulders sagged and posture slumped as his dimmed eyelights watched her go.

"Frisk, what was that about?" Chara interrogated once Frisk had speed walked far enough from the Sansy pen.

"I don't know how to explain it, but…" She grimaced, looking her in the eyes. "One moment I was okay with the idea of holding him and then the next, he suddenly looked just like that Axe…"

"What happened in there must have really shook you, Frisk." She sighed, though understanding and sympathetic towards her apprehension. She pointed to the pen behind them with a growing smile. "We're close to the Papy pen, so why don't we look at them? They're sure to raise your spirits."

She didn't know what a Papy was, but if they were ghost monsters of some sort, Frisk was smacking her for that pun.

They weren't, though, so Chara had avoided the consequences of telling a terrible pun. They were skeleton monsters like the Sansies were, and every other bitty she had encountered thus far, but looked radically different. While Sansies were short and stout, these Papys were tall and slender. They looked similar to Bossanova, but just an inch or two shorter and lacked all the features that made Chara's bitty companion appear unfriendly and intimidating.

"HELLO, HUMAN!" One eagerly bounced towards the two with a friendly wave. "MY NAME IS RONDO, WHAT'S YOURS?"

Bossanova? Rondo?

Whoever it was responsible for naming these bitties seemed to have a penchant for music.

"Frisk." She answered flatly, trying not to let her already less than stellar interactions with the hostile Bossanova taint her impression of this entirely unrelated bitty.

"FRISK, THAT'S A NICE NAME!" Rondo beamed at her, then gestured dramatically to the space around him. "HUMAN FRISK, WOULD YOU LIKE TO STEP INSIDE?"

"No thanks. I'm just here to look today, that's all."

Frisk swore her heart panged when she caught the shunned expression that crossed his face for all of a split-second before instantly returning to that smile that was so bright one was almost forced to squint.

"VERY WELL, THEN. I RESPECT YOUR DECISION, HUMAN. MY GREATNESS IS VERY INTIMIDATING, I'M SURE." He placed a gloved hand over his chest, a dramatic wind that came from nowhere causing the scarf tied around his neck to flutter in the nonexistant breeze. "SHOULD YOU HAVE A CHANGE OF HEART, HOWEVER, I, THE GREAT RONDO, WILL BE HERE!"

"Okay, I'll keep that in mind." She nodded in his direction before stepping over towards the next pen.

Oh dear.

Chara gave a gasp of joy at the bitties in what was a new sight to Frisk but a very familiar and nostalgic one for her. Inside was another pack of skeleton monsters, tall and slender like the Papys, but the sharp features they possessed were also extremely recognizable to Frisk due to the time spent around Chara's bitty. Sharp teeth, red eyelights, dark clothing – they were all near exact copies of Bossanova.

"And these handsome little devils are the Edges!" This time, Chara did squeal. "Ah, seeing them makes me miss my Bossanova so much… Why did he have to be a jealous jerk and bite that guy and make me ground him?"

Pushing Chara's prattling out of her mind, Frisk considered moving along to the next pen, as she knew without a single lingering doubt that she wasn't adopting another Bossanova, or Edge, as they were called, but one of the bitties flagged her down before Frisk could get too far.

"HUMAN!" The miniature skeleton wearing the finely tailored black suit and crimson cravat shouted, strutting up to the glass between the two of them with all the confidence of a peacock. He placed one hand over his puffed out chest and scrutinized her condescendingly. "WHEREVER COULD YOU BE RUNNING OFF TO SO QUICKLY? COULD IT BE YOU HAVE BEEN INTIMIDATED BY THE TERRIBLE EDGEWORTH?"

"He has the same name as that character from the game about the lawyers you like so much!" Chara pointed out with apparent glee. "Look at the wittle snappy suit he's wearing; he looks like he could be a lawyer!"

"I AM THE TERRIBLE EDGEWORTH, POWERFUL AND FEARED!" He scowled at her with a light red dusting his pointy cheekbones. He crossed his arms with a huff and turned his nose up. "THERE IS NOTHING ENDEARING ABOUT THE SIZE OF MYSELF OR MY EXTRAVAGANT SUIT, SO CEASE YOUR INANE COOING IMMEDIATELY, HUMAN!"

"See that tiny blush there? He so loves the attention." She leaned over to whisper, not bothering at all with subtlety as she pointed at the fuming Edgeworth. "The defining trait of Edges is that most of them are tsunderes."

"You know I've never really been that fond of tsundere characters, Chara…"

"I know." She sighed wistfully, not taking her eyes off of Edgeworth, who was steaming like a tea kettle at this point with indignation. "I guess the charm of Edges are just lost on you. But that's okay. I totally get it. Edges aren't for everybody. We'll find you a type of bitty that you'll like, I'm sure of it."

With that, she carted Frisk away, Edgeworth still spewing out an endless tirade of scoldings and insistent statements of denial that he appreciated any attention from a lowly insignificant human to their backs.

The next pen was occupied by more Sansies, Frisk thought at first. However, these bitties had rougher and more pointed features than the Sansies, just as the Edges had sharper and more mordacious features than the Papys. They were also noticeably thicker bodied than the Sansies, their clothes being more filled out, especially around the belly area.

Frisk had a secret weakness for small and chubby things, particularly those round birds one would find in the parking lots of supermarkets that weren't so heavy that they couldn't fly, but preffered to hop around on the ground, picking at dropped food morsels with their beaks and only taking flight when they absolutely had to.

That's what these bitties reminded her of.

The fondness she felt for them was immediately replaced with mortification when one took notice of her persisting gaze and grinned, flashing his shark-like teeth. Frisk caught her reflection in the single golden fang in his knife drawer of a mouth.

"c'mere, doll." He nearly purred, pawing at the glass of the pen separating her from him. "I don't bite… much."

"Chara, I'm scared." She whimpered, discarding her cactus armor in favor of cowering at her side like the squishy marshmallow she was inside.

"You are not. He's six inches tall for pete's sake, Frisk, and you thought he was cute just a moment ago! I saw it in your eyes!"

"That was before he opened his mouth."

"Frisk, I won't lie to you and say that Reds don't bite, because they most definitely do." Frisk glared at her, wondering if what she was saying was somehow supposed to be reassuring. "But, it's scientifically proven that Reds are sixty percent more likely to bite you on the first encounter if you're a dude, so you've only got a forty percent chance of being bit!"

"…That's still a pretty big margin for error. I'll pass on this one."

"c'mon, sweetheart. i'll behave." The Red crooned, his mannerisms and sly grin doing little to convince her of his claim holding any amount of truth. "i don't like makin' promises, but i won't bite ya, doll. …maybe give ya some love nibbles 'n a few licks here 'n there, though. eheheh…"

"…The Reds are all perverts, aren't they?" She tilted her head in Chara's direction with a weary gaze. Normally, she'd blush profusely at hearing such a thing, but after the day she'd had, Frisk just didn't have it in her anymore.

"No, they aren't perverts!" Chara wanted to be stern with her, but she couldn't resist laughing at her expression. "Some of them are kind of flirty, okay, a lot flirty, but some of them are more temperamental like the Edges, too. It all depends on the individual personality of the bitty."

"…I still don't feel too comfortable around this one. And I'm not just saying that because of the abundant air of flirtiness around him." Frisk said, stealing a glance at his sharp teeth that would undoubtedly break skin if he did decide to bite. "He looks kind of mean."

"i can be sweet too, if that's what yer lookin' for in a bitty." The Red bargained, beginning to sweat.

She didn't even know skeleton monsters could sweat, but if they can blush then seeing one sweat shouldn't be too jarring to her.

"I'm not looking to take any one of you home today, sorry." Despite his weird display of behavior, she decided it was best to let him down gently.

"tch. fine. be that way, then. you don't gotta make any excuses, dollie. i get it." He scowled at her, failing to hide his hurt and disappointment as he turned away from Frisk and stomped his way to the nearest corner of the pen, sitting down and facing the wall. "guess reds are just too mean 'n ugly for most folks to want…"

"…I never called him ugly." She said, feeling guilty for hurting the bitty's feelings and saying the wrong thing again.

That right there was a shining example of exactly why she didn't need to adopt a bitty. She'd just end up hurting the poor thing, if not physically then emotionally.

Frisk looked around the pen and took note of the fewer number of Reds when compared to the Sansies or Papys. It seemed they really weren't a favorable classification of bitty, otherwise wouldn't the center have more of them around?

"Hey, don't get too bent out of shape." Chara comforted her, picking up on the fog of gloom that was beginning to form around her. "Reds are actually pretty popular among some circles. Like I said about the Edges, they're not for everybody, but some people out there really like their rugged appeal. But when somebody doesn't take to them, Reds do take it pretty hard. He'll be okay, eventually."

She then guided Frisk away from the pen, probably so she wouldn't break any more of their hearts, metaphorically speaking.

The next pen contained more skeleton monsters – in fact, Frisk hadn't ever come across a bitty that wasn't a skeleton monster. Then again, she didn't know that much about bitties. That much, she did know.

The bitties behaved a lot like the Sansies they saw up front, but they had the likeness of Papys, even more so than the Edges. There wasn't any asperity to them – they seemed limp and repose, like long little noodles.

"If you really wanted to, you could absolutely hold a Stretch without any worries over being bit at or scratched." Chara explained, gesturing to one of them that was sprawled out in the lap of a big teddy bear. "You could probably even pick one up and swing him around like a ragdoll and he wouldn't do a thing about it. That's how chill they are."

"That's entirely too chill." Frisk complained, now worried for another type of bitty that apparently didn't have any sense of self-preservation in his bony body.

"you fret too much, honey." One of them sauntered over, having woken up from his nap in the bitty-sized hammock inside the pen.

"…Honey?" She raised an eyebrow at Chara, unimpressed.

"Eheeheehee!" She cackled, earning a sigh from Frisk.

"Another pervy-" Excuse her. "Flirty bitty."

The Stretch in front of them, well, stretched, lightly popping his joints, causing a few of the others in the pen to grimace and send him irritated looks for interrupting their own naps. He either didn't notice or didn't care, preferring to keep his attention on the both of them, but moreso Chara.

"'m name's Bebop, sugar." He introduced himself, punctuated by another pop from his bones.

There was that musical naming theme again. Frisk was surprised nobody here had thought to dress him up like a cowboy…

That's what she would do, anyway.

"Well aren't you a charmer!" Chara was enraptured by every word that fell from his bony mouth; Frisk could already see the signs of infatuation in her eyes as she smiled down at Bebop.

"Wow, Chara. One day without him around and you're already looking for a replacement for Bossanova."

Chara whirled around to face her with an offended gasp, one hand gripped over her heart.

"How dare you say that, Frisk! There's no replacing Bossanova! I probably love him more than I've ever loved myself!"

Huh. Frisk had a suspicion for a while now that this was true, but she wasn't expecting a confirmation of that theory, especially not under these circumstances.

"That's a lot of love." She stated blankly.

"I don't want to replace Bossanova. I just thought it might help improve the more rotten parts of his personality if he had a calmer bitty buddy around him."

"With how jealous he is, and how flirty this one is?" Frisk waved a hand gesturing to Bebop, who only gave a lazy smile and a wave in return. "That sounds like a horrible idea, Chara."

She sighed in defeat, bending down to eye level with him. "I'm sorry, Bebop. Our love just wasn't meant to be."

"i'll be waitin' right here honey, in case you ever change your mind." He placed a hand against the glass of the pen, aligning his tiny one with the middle of her palm, curling his phalanges as if he were attempting to will the glass to break under his touch so he could reach Chara.

…Frisk was beginning to feel like she was witnessing the separation of two illicit lovers on a soap opera or those Spanish telenovelas her mother watched and ate up like candy. Could this technically count as an affair? This was getting weird!

As Chara withdrew her hand, however, she couldn't deny that Bebop's expression seemed somewhat softer, his grin more at ease but melancholy all the same. She thought that he was just going along with Chara's theatrics, but it seemed now that her rejection had sincerely hurt him.

His drooped eyesockets followed her until she was out of sight.

Chara seemed very enthusiastic about what she was about to show Frisk in the next pen. She seemed to be pinning a lot of her hopes on whatever type of bitty it was awaiting her.

"I've never heard of a single instance of one biting anybody! They're highly recommended for someone that isn't experienced in handling bitties, which describes you to a T – perfect for a first bitty. And they're soooooooo cute, even you'll think so, Frisk!"

"I have my doubts, but I'll go ahead and humor you."

Ignoring her sour grapes attitude, Chara stepped in front of the pen, obstructing Frisk's view. "Are you ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

"And these precious little gumdrops are… the Blueberries!"

She stepped aside and allowed her to observe the pocket-sized skeletons. They were yet another classification of bitty that bore more than a few striking resemblances to the Sansies, but instead of appearing intimidating as the Reds were, they had an overall softer look to them. They weren't as round in the stomach as the Reds, but they still had that supermarket parking lot bird aspect to them that Frisk liked. They were playing happily by themselves, or with each other, not a single sign of discontent or quarrel among them.

All until one peered up to look at her with cerulean eyelights which morphed into the shape of stars, followed immediately by the rest halting in whatever action or task each bitty was performing to do the same.

Suddenly, the entire pack of Blueberries were scrambling in her direction. They swiftly began piling up on each other, tripping on the legs of others and knocking one another down until a shouting and flailing mass of skeletal limbs had formed, a messed up chorus of bitties yelling and climbing all over each other for the express purpose of capturing her interest.

"HUMAN! A HUMAN HAS ARRIVED!"

"PLEASE LOOK AT ME, HUMAN!"

"CHOOSE ME, PLEASE! I KNOW HOW TO MAKE TACOS!"

"I KNOW HOW TO MAKE TACOS TOO, BUT BETTER!"

"YOU MAY KNOW HOW TO MAKE TACOS BETTER, BUT I MAKE TACOS THE BEST!"

"LIAR, LIAR, BITTY ON FIRE!"

"PLEASE NOTICE ME, HUMAN!"

Frisk slowly backed away from the pen, even though she was in no amount of danger of the Blueberries escaping. But seeing them all clustered like this shouting at the top of their likely nonexistant lungs was, for her, an extremely anxiety-inducing experience. Their voices were all blended together, their movements blurred. It was becoming more and more of a challenge to discern which one was saying what. They had all but become a hivemind to her.

Frisk tenderly rubbed at her temples, feeling a headache beginning to bloom in her skull. All this noise was proving to be too much for her fragile nerves to handle.

"…I can't do this."

She spun on her heel and began walking, trying to block out the needy cries and whines of the attention deprived Blueberries behind her. She finally stopped once she'd reached the back end of the building, her speedy and abrupt departure forcing Chara to jog in order to catch up.

"I'm sorry, Frisk, that was probably my fault!" She sputtered, doubled over and out of breath. "I told them about you when I was here earlier today, and I guess I got them a little too rowdy."

"Chara, that wasn't even remotely close to 'rowdy'. That was a riot."

"Blueberries are competitive when it comes to adoption!" She sighed, and for the first time in a long, long while, the smile she always wore, regardless of the current situation or mood, had vanished completely. "Frisk, I know I said before that all you had to do today was look around, that's it, but I didn't think then that you'd be like this the entire time…"

"Like what?" She nearly hissed, not liking at all what she was insinuating.

"You're acting completely disinterested, and rude, and… and cold! What's your problem, Frisk?!"

"You can't blame me for acting disinterested, Chara." She barked back, doing everything within her power to keep her own temper in check. "I told you when you first proposed the idea that I didn't want to adopt a bitty, but you just kept pushing and pushing until I finally agreed in allowing you to drag me here."

"So that's what you're calling it – dragging you here." Her shoulders squared as she aimed a glare at Frisk. "You really aren't having any fun at all, are you?"

"How am I supposed to enjoy myself when I know I'm about to lose my best and only friend? Explain that to me, Chara!" She unintentionally exclaimed, causing Chara's eyes to widen in shock and confusion.

"…Frisk, what are you talking about?" Her voice was uncharacteristically faint.

"Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about! You can just say it; I won't get mad, because I understand!" Frisk shouted, turning her gaze towards the floor – she couldn't bear to look Chara in the face as her insecurities and fears bubbled to the surface. "It's the entire reason why you brought me here – if I adopted a bitty, you'd have more time to spend with your other friends or to yourself, right? Being around me is suffocating, isn't it? Having to constantly put up with someone who's so anti-social and mean, who always says or does the wrong thing so much that just about everyone waits until I'm gone just to talk with you… I don't blame you. Not at all. Why wouldn't you look for the first opportunity to get away from someone like that?"

Frisk hadn't realized she was crying until she saw a droplet fall down to her feet. Her cheeks were stained with tears, her nose was running. And right in front of Chara, too. This wasn't the first time she had seen her like this, but it was still something rare for her to witness – Frisk did all her crying behind closed doors if she could help it.

Frisk's only saving grace was the fact that no employees, other visitors, or bitties behind their glass enclosures were present as spectators of her emotional breakdown. Because the absolute last thing she needed right now was someone seeing her in this state and feeling sorry for her. She definitely didn't deserve any pity, not when she was such an awful friend.

That's what she was, an awful friend. A friend so awful that her only companion in life felt that she needed to get a bitty, something that theoretically couldn't run away from her like everyone else, just so she could get a break.

Frisk heard footsteps – Chara's footsteps. She saw her moving through the hair covering her eyes and the tears blurring her vision.

This was it. This was the end of their friendship.

She didn't have to pretend anymore.

She could be free.

Frisk didn't expect to feel arms around her, one around her back and the other behind her head, but she did. Frisk slowly lifted her head from the shoulder her face had been buried in to see familiar red hair and golden flowers.

Chara – her entire form shook as she held Frisk tightly, as if she would slip away and vanish if she didn't.

"Frisk, how could you even think that?" She sniffled, much to her shock. If there was one thing more rare than her seeing Frisk cry, it was Frisk seeing her cry. "That… that's not true! None of that is true! You're my best friend, you're my sister, my sister-friend, and I love you!"

"But I'm a horrible friend…" She wept through clenched teeth.

"No you're not! If anything, I'm the horrible friend!" Chara wailed loudly, pulling Frisk away from herself just enough to look her in the eyes. "I'm the one that's closest to you, the one that's supposed to know you better than anyone else and I didn't even know you felt this way, didn't even notice!"

Oh no, Chara was blaming herself for her episode…

"I didn't want you to adopt a bitty because I wanted to get away from you!" Chara seemed to be mentally assessing all of her previous statements on the subject, not just today, and blanched. "Oh gosh… no wonder you thought that! What I said earlier, I didn't mean it like that! I… I was just so happy after I adopted Bossanova. Despite our… vast and various differences, it really felt like he saw something wonderful in me that most people tend to gloss over and wanted to be with me because of that. Bossanova and bitties in general have brought so much joy to my life that I wanted to share it. You were the one that's made me happiest and has been here with me, despite everything. So I thought that, out of everyone, you deserved that slice of happiness I found the most. That's why I've been so stubborn in pushing you to adopt; I thought that some bitty here might see what I see in you, like what you and Bossanova saw in me..."

Frisk openly sobbed then, wracked with more guilt than before; how could she have ever doubted Chara, her dearest and only friend?

Frisk was thankful that she pulled her back into her shoulder before she could create too much of a racket and cause Webber or some concerned customer to check up on the two of them. What an embarrassing story that would have been for Chara to have to explain. 'My sister is crying because she thought I was trying to get rid of her with a bitty.'

But no, she would never air out her insecurities like that; she'd make a convenient excuse for Frisk, one that wasn't a lie, but would save her from embarrassment and protect her privacy. Because that was the kind of person Chara was.

Chara fetched some tissues from her shoulder bag, drying Frisk's eyes and her's once the both of them had calmed down sufficiently. Thankfully, no one intruded during their moment, and the both of them were cleaned up enough that hopefully nobody would suspect that the two had just been bawling their hearts out to each other.

"I'm so sorry, Chara."

"No, I am. I'm the one that should be sorry." She argued, covering Frisk's mouth for the second time today before she could retort. "I've been way too… forceful, about this whole thing. It's completely true that I had the best of intentions in bringing you here, but the truth still stands that I had to wear you down for literal months and bribe you before you would even begin to consider it. There were things that you enjoyed and went nuts over in your own way that I didn't, but you never tried to cram those things down my throat like I have."

"No, it's really alright. You're just really passionate about bitties and wanted to share that with me. I get that. But, I just really don't think I'm properly equipped to adopt one."

"I understand, Frisk. I really am sorry, for everything. I thought I would be making you happy by bringing you here, but all I ended up doing in the end is make you cry – the last thing I ever wanted to do." She lightly grabbed Frisk's hand and began tugging her along. "Come on, we'll go get dinner and go home if you want, like I promised."

"Wait." She said, wiggling out of her grasp. "We can't go home yet! I… still haven't seen all of the center."

"Frisk, you don't have to force yourself to stay here just to entertain me. You've done enough of that already."

"I… I didn't dislike everything today."

"So you've actually had some fun? Really?" A faint trace of her usual smile was beginning to reappear.

"Really, Chara. I can think of plenty worse ways to have spent my time." A light, airy chuckle escaped her throat, but then she frowned when she remembered the poor, mangled thing of a bitty she had seen when first exploring the center. "But Chara… do you really think a bitty would be safe under my care? When I'm like this? They'd just get hurt."

"Frisk, listen to me." Chara gripped her shoulders, a serious expression on her face. "I wouldn't have even considered bringing you here if I ever once thought you'd hurt a bitty. Someone that would hurt a bitty wouldn't have reacted like you did when you saw that Axe. Someone that would hurt a bitty wouldn't have yanked your hand out of the pen the way you did and refuse to touch any of the bitties because you were afraid of dropping one. Someone that would hurt a bitty wouldn't have cut a conversation short because they were afraid of saying something that would hurt a Papy's feelings. Someone that would hurt a bitty wouldn't have been considerate of that Red's feelings when you shot him down even though you thought he was acting weird. Someone that would hurt a bitty wouldn't have carefully considered what might happen if your friend brought a flirty Stretch to a home with a chronically jealous Edge. Someone that would hurt a bitty wouldn't have walked away from a pen of Blueberries bouncing off the walls, even when this person was a few seconds away from having a nervous breakdown. Even when it looked like you were being unfriendly and rude to someone who didn't know you like I do, you've had nothing but the best intentions in mind for the bitties each and every time. That's why you would make the best bitty owner, in my maybe not so humble opinion."

"…I still don't know how I feel about adoption, but… I'll look around some more and see if there's any one that I like. There must be some pens that we passed up when I was running away from the Blueberries."

"Hmm, just the Blackberries and the Ruses, I think." She mused aloud, going over the map of the adoption center in her head. "I don't think you'd like the Blackberries too much, though, so maybe it's for the best."

"What are they like?"

"Like an Edge and a Blueberry mashed up together."

"Pass." Frisk replied so quickly that it made Chara snort. "What about the Ruses?"

"Weeeell…" She trailed off, bouncing on her heels. "They're like Stretches, but a little more rough around the edges. Some of them can be kind of standoffish at first, but once one decides they like you, they'll smother you in love and will literally die for you."

"That last part sounds a little concerning…" She voiced, the thought of a bitty, something so tiny and fragile, dying for her sake was just too much to bear.

"Some of them get attached to potential adopters easily, so maybe we should skip that one too to avoid any heartbreak, metaphorically speaking."

"That sounds best." Frisk agreed, having seen enough sad bitty faces for one day. "So… what else is there?"

"Well, we're close to where we keep the exotic bitties, over there to your left."

"Exotic? So these bitties are supposed to be rarer than the others?"

"Precisely."

"And undoubtedly more expensive than the others as well."

"…That is also correct."

~~~~~~~~~~

Frisk didn't really see what it was that made these bitties supposedly more special than the others, other than the fact that there were much fewer numbers of them in their pens. However, she soon learned that the reason why they were considered exotic was because most of these types of bitties only came to be from another type of bitty when certain conditions were met – they were similar cases to the Axe bitty, but the changes they underwent were entirely harmless.

The first pen the two of them came across were Sansy variants. They looked like the ones they had seen up front of the store in every conceivable way except for the manner in which they dressed. These bitties were either dressed in overalls and straw hats, or kimonos and sandals over socks. The space around them was covered in plants, mostly tomatoes with potted flowers interspersed here and there, with little ladders for the bitties to climb in order to reach them. On the far left side of the pen was some sort of watering hole, and to the far right were several loose pages with information about the plants in their domain scribbled on, likely by the bitties' own hands judging by the size of the handwriting.

"These are the Farmies. This type of bitty originated in Japan, but a few of them here became influenced without the country's involvement." Chara went on to explain further. "Farmies come to be when a Sansy finds and embraces the values of good honest country field work."

"That must be why there are so few of them." Frisk remarked, causing her and even a few of the bitties to laugh. "Only Japan could have taken a few lazy lumps of skeleton and turned them into this."

"Farming has done nothing to diminish their relaxed ways of life. They work hard, but also at their own pace." Chara corrected her, nodding to one of the Farmies that was taking a nap under the shadow of a looming tomato, a bitty-sized watering can resting at his side. "As you can imagine, they're loved amongst the agricultural community, but also by sweet little old ladies with gardens."

"I bet if dad doesn't have one of them already, he'd love one." Frisk then frowned. "I don't really know that much about what's going on in his life since he and mom split up…"

Before Frisk could dwell too much on her unfortunate family situation, Chara began pulling her away to look at the other exotic bitties there. When she bid them farewell, one of the kimono-clad monsters folded both hands on his lap and bowed before sending them off.

One type of bitty they saw was so rare, there were only two inside the pen. They must have been Papys at one point from what you could tell. Frisk couldn't see that much of them because they seemed bent on hiding as much of themselves from them as possible. Apparently this classification of miniature skelton was so rare, bitty researchers couldn't decide amongst themselves if they should be labelled as Greens or Asters, according to Chara. Unfortunately, all the attention they received over their rarity had made them rather quiet and withdrawn.

Their neighbors in the pen opposite were far less shy. There were four of them, and just as with the Greens or Asters, researchers weren't quite sure what brought them into existence. All that was known was that they stemmed from Sansies. But they didn't resemble Sansies in the slightest, to Frisk. They were tall, not as tall as a Papy, an Edge, or a Stretch, but definitely taller than a Sansy. They didn't dress like Sansies, either. These bitties resembled some of the J-Rock boyband members that Chara became obsessed with in her teenage years, with their leather jackets and combat boots; one of them was even holding an acoustic guitar, strumming the strings of the instrument with evident skill and quietly mouthing lyrics to himself.

One aspect about them made every single cell in her body freeze with pure terror when she noticed it, however. Their faces, all four of them, had identical hairline cracks over their eyes that stretched down their cheeks, and in their palms were holes that were so deep they spanned all the way to the backsides of their hands.

These bitties had been hurt, that was all she could think of at the moment. Before Frisk could sink too deeply into her trepidation, Chara quickly rectified her hasty presumption.

"I know what you're thinking, Frisk, but those cracks and holes are completely natural for Gs. None of these guys have even been adopted before, and nobody that works here would do anything bad to them and get away with it alive. Not while I'm around, anyway."

"But don't they… hurt?" Frisk inquired, gesturing to her own face and then the center of her hand.

"Not at all." The G holding the guitar answered for her. "But thanks for the concern. Nobody's really ever went out of their way to ask us that before. It's sweet."

His voice was low with a slight rasp, different from the deep and lazy tone the Sansies spoke in, but also not too different.

And then she realized that this bitty just called her sweet.

"Uhm… nobody's really said anything like that to me, either." She stammered, only to make another embarrassing realization, and that realization being that she was blushing.

And Chara and the bitty were enjoying it immensely.

"Gs are entertainment bitties. They charm the masses with their voices and fingerwork on the guitar strings." Chara quipped, her grin reminding Frisk of a certain meme involving a smug smiling cat.

"That makes them sound more like performers than bitties, from what I know about the both of them. Their talent sounds appealing, but couldn't someone adopt them for the sole reason of taking advantage of that?"

"You're a worrier, aren't you?" His tone wasn't patronizing, but Frisk felt so when she heard him chuckle, golden eyes gazing at her with mirth. "We're well taken care of here and our caretakers do their best to ensure we're handed over to people that won't take advantage of or abuse us, but sometimes fate deals you an unlucky hand. It's a sad fact of life, but that's reality for you."

"And you're… okay with that? You aren't ever concerned about falling into the hands of a bad person?"

"Of course it's something that some of us think about, but we don't let it consume our every thought. Monsters are a hopeful people, and that includes us bitties. We've all got our own seperate thoughts and feelings, but the majority of us try to look at the good in a person and hope for the best."

She took a moment to absorb his words. Frisk had heard before that the SOULs of monsters were made of love, hope, and compassion. It was a truly beautiful sounding thing, she thought. But these bitties' innocent hope that they would be adopted out to a home that would treat them well and love them and wouldn't use and abuse them, it was more heartbreaking to her, mainly because of the overhanging layer of hopelessness to the situation should they end up in one of the homes that would bring harm to them without care.

Another husky chuckle from him caught her attention.

"Although, there's something you could do to prevent that." He appeared pensive for a moment, inclining his body closer towards Frisk before breaking out into a broad grin and wiggling an eyebrow(eyebone?) at her. "You could take me home with you. Then neither you or I would have any reason to worry about me being adopted out to a bad home, because that's something you're obviously concerned over. I've got a nice life here, but being fussed over by you doesn't sound too bad at all."

"…Chara, we're going. He's making fun of me."

"No, no, wait! Come back!" He wheezed between his sputters of laughter at her scandalized and disgusted expression. "I won't tease you anymore, at least not over that."

Frisk huffed, her cheeks still pink, but at least she'd stopped shoving Chara away from the pen.

"'m sorry. I'm not trying to make fun of you, honest. It's just… really adorable that you care as much as you do." He laughed again, propping himself up on one elbow and resting his fist under his chin.

"If you're wanting me to take you home, you're really not helping your case here, pal."

"Probably not. But let me try to make it up to you?" He retrieved his guitar from where it was resting at his side. "I'm not that good, so don't hold your expectations too high, but I can guarantee it'll come directly from the SOUL."

Frisk could admit to herself that ever since Chara mentioned them being bitties that entertained, she was curious as to how he would sound. It looked like her curiosity was about to be sated when he began strumming the opening to a song that might have been familiar to her.

"There was a time I was in love

and all the angels and the doves

couldn't make her say

'I love you…'"

And heavens above, his playing, his voice was nearly divine. If he referred to this as 'not that good' then she was utterly terrified of what he considered to be exceptional.

This skeleton, about the size of a doll, had captured Frisk's complete and unwavering attention, and he was fully aware of this, looking up from his instrument to gaze up at her with a smug grin. But she was too enraptured with his playing to do something childish in retaliation like stick her tongue out at him.

"Hello, goodbye, t'was nice to know you

How I find myself without you

Hello, goodbye, I'm rather crazy

And I never thought I was crazy..."

Finished, he set his guitar to the side again and winked. "So, and be honest now, how'd you like my little performance?"

"Eh, it was better than 'not that good'." Frisk replied.

Hey, she was being honest with him, just not completely honest.

Her answer seemed to satisfy him, his smirk growing wider. "Oh?"

Then he had the audacity to flutter his eyesockets at her, both elbows resting on his knees and chin resting on his bony knuckles. The nerve, the unadulterated nerve.

But the truth was, this bitty had honestly almost convinced her in considering adopting him. The teasing was a bit irritating, but it wasn't out of malice. It was little different than when Chara did so. She knew that monsters were made of magic and were adept at using it – did he use the power of his voice to persuade her like some sort of skeletal siren? Yes, that had to be it.

But the truth still remained that Frisk was seriously mulling over the idea of taking him home with her. And he seemed to know it, because behind the complacentness of his grin and mischievous glint in his eyes was a genuine enthusiasm over possibly finding where it was he belonged.

And then it was all ruined once she spotted the small plaque fastened to the base of the pen listing the adoption fee. Frisk paled.

"Um, could-uh, could you excuse us for just a moment? Girl talk." Frisk stammered as she grabbed Chara by the neckline of her sweater and tugged her away, but he didn't seem to notice her unease.

"Take your time." He waved, that grin of his still in place.

She dragged Chara out of earshot of the Gs and stared at her with wide eyes, wheezing.

"What's up?" She had the courage to ask, taking in Frisk's expression that was reminiscent of a pigeon shot with a peashooter.

"Chara… did you take a look at the adoption fee attached to that guy?" She choked, grabbing one of her shoulders as leverage to steady herself, knees weak. "I could buy a Nintendo Switch and every single game that's been announced and released for it that I've expressed the slightest bit of interest in for the price over his head!"

"Don't you mean under his head?" Chara bantered, to which she gave her a dry stare. "Yeah, the kind of people you see with a G bitty are usually famous songwriters and singer-type persons, or wealthy people in general. Their rarity and rising popularity caused their price to catch up with them."

Frisk managed to halfway compose herself before facing the bitty again. She wasn't looking forward to what she was about to tell him.

"…I can't adopt you. I'm sorry."

"…Oh." He uttered after a pause that was much too long, the corners of his mouth downturned slightly.

While she had looked like a pigeon shot with a peashooter, he just looked as though he were shot, directly in the heart. Metaphorically speaking, of course. Perhaps it was more appropriate to say shot in the SOUL? Either way, he looked hurt. And so did Frisk.

"Can I… can I at least ask why?" He questioned, before deciding better of it – maybe he didn't want to know the answer. "Never mind, you don't have to say anything if you don't want to."

She wanted to give him an answer that would leave him with no further disappointment, but at the same time, how could she effectively explain to him that her decision was made through no fault of his own, it was just because he was expensive and she was a flat broke currently jobless college graduate?

"It's nothing that you've said or done, it's not you, let me make that clear!" She waved her hands about frantically before growing still. "It's just that… you are a luxury that few can afford. And I cannot afford the luxury that is you…"

"…Eh?" His expression looked less hurt now and more confused.

…He had no idea how much he was worth.

Frisk crouched down to eye-level with him as Chara had done with Bebop earlier.

"Listen, I sincerely hope, with all my heart and SOUL, that you find a good home with a loving owner that can provide for you in a way that I… well, can't. I was getting ahead of myself back there. I didn't consider the fine print behind adopting you and accidentally got your hopes up. And for that, I apologize."

He gave a single nod accompanied by a deep sigh, looking more perplexed than ever with her explanation.

"Alright. I can't say I understand your reasoning because that'd be lying directly to your face, but I respect your decision."

"It was nice meeting you." She offered, not wanting their conversation to end on a sour note.

"Same."

Frisk and Chara moved on before they could get too sentimental, but as soon as the both of them were out of earshot he turned around to face his other three companions.

"A luxury few can afford… What in the name of creation is that supposed to mean?!"

~~~~~~~~~~

"I feel like garbage. I should probably lie down." Frisk muttered, still feeling terrible for dashing yet another bitty's hopes for adoption.

Chara patted her back consolingly as she led her around the exotic bitty pens in an effort to cheer Frisk up. She showed her Inkies – Sansies that had transformed after being exposed to the mighty power of art, Gasters – the tallest of discovered bitties, whose lower bodies turned to goop when they were scared (which was often), and the Lamias – Frisk sped right past them once she figured out what they were. She bore an intense fear of snakes, which had only heightened after several years ago when one of their crazy neighbors had illegally purchased a python from the dark web and then didn't bother to feed it. It soon managed to escape their neighbor's house and began searching for food elsewhere, and that food had almost been Frisk.

Frisk has led an interesting life.

She had fun with Chara. Frisk had entered the store a few minutes after twelve and it was close to evening now.

"Well, we've spent all this time here and I still haven't found a bitty to adopt." She remarked, realizing the irony of her statement – she enjoyed herself much more than she thought she would, but was still leaving the building empty handed.

"I'm positive you would have left this store with that G if he hadn't been so ungodly expensive." She was probably right, Frisk wasn't willing to admit. "Hey, that Sansy you first saw seemed to like you an awful lot. You won't have to pay an arm and a leg to walk out of here with him, and Sansies aren't bad singers at all if you can prompt them into it."

"I still don't think I'm ready to adopt a bitty, though." She confessed, knowing that the G being out of her reach was probably for the best - she probably would have made a very rash decision had it not been for that.

"Alright, then. You've held up your end of the deal, so now it's my turn. What do you want to eat for dinner, Frisk?"

"Okay, I've had hours to think about this, but I'm still not entirely sure." She mused, going over your favorite fast-food restaurants. "Maybe fried chicken? Burgers? Want to go get pizzas? I'm up for just about anything, really."

"Pizzas sound good! I'll get mine with pineapple!"

"Pizzas it is, then."

With that over and done with, she and Chara made their way to the door. The moment Frisk stepped outside, though, a scream pierced the air around them.

"NOOOOOOOO! DOOOON'T GOOOOOOOOOO!"

The next thing they knew, the two of them spotted a bitty, a hysterically sobbing Blueberry, sprinting across the floor at mach speed. And his targeted destination was the open door leading to the outside.

"Somebody stop him!" Webber had burst from the rescue room with a shout, spontaneously summoning an army of employees to catch the runaway bitty.

He dodged the swipes of their hands that came his way, leaping and skidding out of their impending grips until he had reached the doorway in literal seconds. Frisk probably should have closed the door instead of standing there gaping, but she had honestly froze up at witnessing the chaos unfolding around her and it all happened so fast.

Just when the bitty thought he was home free, she reached down and plucked him from the ground in one swift motion, the tiny skeleton screeching and struggling in her hold.

"LET ME GO! LET ME GO! THIS IS ALL SOME BIG MISUNDERSTANDING, YOU HAVE TO BELIEVE ME!" He persisted, the volume of his voice only getting louder and louder to the point that it nearly shook the windows. "SHE DIDN'T LEAVE ME HERE, SHE WOULDN'T EVER HAVE! NOT ON PURPOSE!"

His shouts of protest soon morphed into incomprehensible shrieks; nothing he said was making any sense anymore. As Frisk finally closed the door and began making her way towards Webber to return the emotional bitty, an abrupt pain shot through her. She let out a yelp, inadvertly tightening her grip around the Blueberry.

He had bit her.

And he had bit her hard, grinding his teeth against the thumb across his chest. It was drawing blood now, and it poured freely from her wound and down her wrist.

"Chara… I thought you said you never heard of one of these biting anyone!" Frisk managed to wheeze, tears beading at the corner of her eyes.

"I never have! …Until now!" She squeaked, trying to gently pry the bitty's mouth from her skin, to no avail.

Several other worried workers tried to coerce him into letting her go, their efforts proving useless. Frisk was certain that if he didn't release her soon she was going to die of bloodloss. The thought of pinching his nasal ridge and blocking his nostrils entered her mind, but would that even affect him? He's a skeleton monster – did they even need to breathe? Before she could settle on her next course of action, the Blueberry suddenly stilled. Slowly, he released her thumb from his maw.

He panted, eyesockets dancing across the room until they finally settled on her. Then he slowly turned his head downwards to look at Frisk's hand, blood still seeping from her thumb like a waterfall. His eyelights shrunk to miscroscopic pinpricks.

"I… I'M SO SORRY…" He choked, now full of remorse. "I… I DIDN'T MEAN TO… I…"

'Well, you did.' She wanted to snap after the pain he just put her through, but one look at his tearful expression made her think better of it.

Sighing, she slowly loosened her grip on him. His posture tensed, braced for what could be the worst. Instead of flinging him, Frisk pulled the distressed bitty to her shoulder and cradled him, rubbing little circles into his back with one finger.

"…It's alright. Just don't do it again, please. That really hurt."

He let out another agonized wail, ashamed. A fresh series of sobs escaped the Blueberry bitty as another string of apologies fell from his mouth. Each time it seemed he was close to calming himself, he would take a look at Frisk's bleeding hand or his bloodstained clothes and break out into another round. It wasn't long until her shirt had a large wet spot from where he had cried so much. Some of the employees tried to take him from her, but she batted their hands away, a bit irritated with them that they couldn't seem to comprehend that now was not the time for that.

When his howls finally died down to sniffles, Frisk had expected some sort of incoming explanation for his behavior, an attempt at saving face after that random violent episode, but instead he seemed more concerned with seeing that her injury was tended to.

Rather than Webber or one of the other employees getting her a roll of bandages or the like, they were rather insistent on getting the bitty to take care of it. Was that supposed to be some sort of punishment for biting her and causing the damage in the first place? It definitely hurt, she couldn't deny that, but he was clearly having a panic attack or something of the like when he did so, so she didn't think it was exactly fair of them to expect him to make up for something he didn't have any conscious control over.

Still, the Blueberry didn't argue with this decision, probably still too wracked with guilt to argue, she presumed.

Frisk waited, but there were still no rolls of bandages or any other type of medical supplies being passed off to the bitty. Just how was he expected to help her if they weren't going to give him anything to help her with…?

There was a noticeable lull in the space around them, Webber, the employees, and even Chara eyed the Blueberry bitty in her bloodied hand with anxious expressions; hopeful, but nervous.

Before Frisk could question this, he then placed his mouth over the gaping wound in her thumb, making her gasp at the sudden contact, since the last time he had done so, it was to bite her, even if unintentionally.

He was kissing her – kissing her thumb to be precise. And despite being a skeleton, a magical skeleton monster, but a skeleton nonetheless, it felt very much like an actual kiss should have felt.

And Frisk being Frisk, inexperienced in the ways of regular and expected physical contact, could only let out an undignified squawk at the gesture, her gaze bouncing around to every person present, and she at a complete loss on what to do in this situation. …Why was no one explaining anything to her?!

The miniature skeleton pressed his bony lips more firmly to her wound, and suddenly, the room was bathed in a faint cerulean light. Her bleeding had ceased, and the wound itself seemed to have shrunk somewhat in size, but when he pulled away, there was still a certain pain present in the affected area. It would probably be sore and bruised over in the next few days.

"…THAT'S THE BEST I CAN DO AS OF NOW. I'M SORRY…" He lamented, looking far more exhausted than he had been before.

"Th-That's alright. Thank you for healing me…" She stuttered, grateful for his effort anyway.

His eyesockets drooped; he staggered and swayed in her hand, latching onto Frisk's other fingers for support. She had heard of certain monsters possessing healing magic, but how effective it was depended on their statistics, specifically their HoPe. Father was an excellent healer. So was mother, but Toriel had experienced so much tragedy through the years that her healing magic wasn't as effective as it used to be.

But for this monster to be this worn down after using that little amount of magic, his HoPe must be severely low…

The employees were still fluttering around her, ready to take him from Frisk's hold. However, when one strayed to close, the Blueberry let out a soft gasp and leaped to cling to her drenched top. Such a reaction would be concerning if it wasn't for the apologetic and sheepish expressions on their faces when he did so. They looked worried for the both of them.

"Y-YOU'RE NICE… YOU DIDN'T GET MAD AT ME, EVEN AFTER I BIT YOU. I… I DIDN'T MEAN TO! BUT I'M NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE RIGHT NOW." His voice dropped to a near whisper. "She said I had a home with her… She promised…"

Frisk thought she had an idea of what had caused this bitty to have an emotional meltdown. From the sound of it, this bitty had a previous owner, but he had been returned here against his will.

It was a tragic situation, but bringing him back to the adoption center was a far better fate than being neglected and abused or set free where anything could happen to him.

"W-WERE YOU LEAVING BEFORE?" The bitty asked, one tiny fist inadvertly clenching the fabric of her shirt. "DO YOU… DO YOU REALLY HAVE TO GO NOW…?"

She and Chara had just been about to leave, but abruptly handing him off to the employees now after all that just seemed wrong. He clearly still needed some form of reassurance, some form of comfort, and for whatever reason, this bitty felt that Frisk was the one who could give that too him at this moment.

She cradled him against her shoulder and rubbed a finger down his spine. "I can stay for a little while longer."

And just that was enough for the Blueberry to relax somewhat – he already looked far calmer than he had been mere seconds ago. He clung to and nuzzled against her as an employee pointed her towards a cozy but spacious room to the left – the bitty interaction area. It was getting late into the evening so there shouldn't be as many customers as there would have been when she and Chara first arrived earlier, but the room was conveniently empty. She settled herself onto a plush couch, the low volume of the TV serving as white noise.

"…Do you have a name?" Frisk asked after a few silent minutes of holding the bitty.

"NO. NOT ANYMORE." He answered, his tone listless. "I'VE HAD MANY NAMES. BUT THEY AREN'T MINE NOW. AND WHEN I DO HAVE ONE… I NEVER GET TO KEEP IT FOR LONG BEFORE I HAVE TO GIVE IT BACK."

"Didn't the adoption center ever give you one?" She asked, remembering Rondo, Edgeworth, Bebop, and less pleasantly Chopper – they lived here and they had names.

"NO! I DON'T WANT A NAME FROM THE CENTER. I WANT ONE FROM MY OWNER. I REFUSE TO ACCEPT ANY NAME UNLESS IT'S FROM MY OWNER!" His voice rose, causing her to jump a little.

At feeling Frisk's body jerk, the bitty flinched himself, ashamed of his sudden outburst.

He had been adopted and returned several times – did he even know how many times his hope had been raised only to be dashed when he was once again coralled into a carrier and returned to the familiar center? He had lost count long ago. Numbers were meaningless to him now.

Many would argue that awaiting adoption in a store where all his needs were tended to meticulously by a caring staff was a merciful existence compared to those who were mistreated or abused by their owners when they were no longer wanted, but he couldn't find it in himself to look at his situation from that perspective.

The Blueberry knew there were far more unfortunate bitties than himself in the world, but the pain and longing in his SOUL for companionship just became too much some days that it felt as though he were slowly withering away and nobody noticed or cared.

Frisk wondered what it was about this specific Blueberry that caused him to be adopted out and returned numerous times.

Chara had been visiting the center since it opened; she was probably aware of his story. Even so, Frisk felt that to ask her would be an invasion of his privacy. Chara hadn't followed them into the room in order to give the pair privacy, but right now Frisk found herself at a loss on what to do and wished her friend were here to guide her in this predicament she'd found herself in.

It was obvious to her, even though he hasn't said anything yet, that the Blueberry without a name was already growing attached. Frisk hadn't come here looking to adopt, and if she felt that she couldn't provide for a healthy bitty, then she certainly wasn't equipped to provide for a bitty that was clearly emotionally damaged and possibly unstable.

But… she could understand his pain all too well.

Frisk was never friends with someone for long before suddenly they removed themselves from her life altogether. It was always for some reason or another, but the sole constant among them was their reason for withdrawing was placed solely on her shoulders – it was always her fault, something that she said or did. Just her. The only person that never ran away, placed blame on, or took advantage of her was Chara. And even then, Chara had to fight tooth and nail to get the other girl to accept her friendship. Frisk had been hurt so many times, she had began erecting barriers around herself to avoid others, no longer trusting. She had lowered them for her, but never since has this happened again.

But this bitty, unlike her, had never truly lost hope. He graciously opened the doors to his SOUL whenever a new owner entered his life, despite everything he experienced thus far, because the fear of turning away someone that might truly come to love him vastly overweighed the fear of being hurt once again. And hurt again he was – time and time again.

The two sat in silence, but not an uncomfortable one. It was a peaceful calm.

"…ENOUGH ABOUT ME. WHAT'S YOUR NAME?" He had timidly asked after shouting at her.

"…Frisk."

"THAT'S A NICE NAME."

"No it's not. It's weird."

He only shook his head once with a gentle smile, saying softly before falling into silence, "I like it."

Frisk's gaze was on the TV in front of them, but she wasn't really paying attention to the program playing on the screen at all. Her thoughts were swimming, thinking of everything and nothing all at once.

She hadn't noticed that, shortly after his outburst, the Blueberry bitty in her company had moved from clinging to her shoulder to her chest, directly over where her heart resided. He was listening to the rhythm of her heartbeat, nearly lulled into slumber with the combination of her absentminded strokes beginning at the back of his skull and ending at his lower spine. Up and down. Slowly.

She was also unaware of the faint glowing of her SOUL at this time, as well as his. Both were so absorbed in their thoughts and emotions, neither noticed. Glow and fade. Glow and fade. Brightened then dimmed. Brightened and dimmed. The two's SOULs flickered in perfect sync with each other – a SOUL resonance.

Only monsters and humans that shared a strong bond with each other could perform such a feat, and the two were entirely unaware of it. Their feelings were unconciously shared with one another, his and her pain and hardships were conveyed to one another in a language that stretched beyond vocalization, a conversation without the need for words.

Their SOULs spoke with each other in a manner unlike either had ever experienced before, as if comforting one another. Frisk found herself feeling more at ease with herself and the world. And now bearing knowledge of the tender secrets her guarded SOUL was whispering to his, he felt as though this human had been specially crafted by the heavens above solely for him – a reward just for him for his longstanding and unwavering faith.

He wondered if such thoughts could be considered selfish, even delusional, but he couldn't stop them. His SOUL was calling out to him, nearly shouting, telling him – "She's the one. She's the owner you've been looking for. She came for you."

And it did seem as though fate itself and the forces that be alligned just to make this meeting possible. An injured young woman who held no interest in bitties appearing before him, encountering her just as she was about to leave, perhaps forever, and she showing interest in him, being gentle towards him when he had not been to her. She was kind to him even after injuring her. Understanding when he couldn't properly heal the wound he caused despite his best efforts. And now she was spending time with him, holding him close against the most vital part of her human body, even though she had been about to leave before meeting him.

He wondered if this was what love felt like. It had to be.

The bitty lifted his head to gaze at her, his baby blue eyelights shifting into pulsating hearts throbbing in time with the beat of her heart and the synchronized wavelength of their SOULs.

Frisk happened to peer down just as he did so and stilled like a deer in the headlights, immediately taking notice of the expression of pure affection on his little porcelain doll-like face. He was staring up at her expectantly, like nearly all of the other bitties she had interacted with today. Except this expectant stare reached an entirely new level of intensity by far.

And all Frisk could think was 'this wasn't suppose to happen. This shouldn't be happening.'

But it was.

Taking a deep breath, she moved him away from her chest. He instantly found himself missing the warmth, but settled into the palm of her hand and took hold of her thumb, showing caution in avoiding her injury when nuzzling against the digit. He wasn't showing any awareness of the somber and regretful mood encompassing the human holding him, his tiny hands stroking over the wounded flesh with a feather light touch so as not to aggravate it further.

His oblivious gestures of adoration only made what Frisk was about to do more difficult.

"…Isn't it about time for the shop to close for the evening?" She asked, her voice more faint than she wanted it to be. "Shouldn't you be getting settled for the night?"

His eyelights immediately lost their heart shape, turning into wobbly spheres as he stared at her in disbelief.

"...WHAT?" He questioned, unblinking. "B-BUT I THOUGHT…"

"Yes. I know what you thought…" Frisk bit her lower lip, nearly puncturing it as she did so in her nervousness. "But I didn't come here today to adopt a bitty. I can't adopt any of you. I'm not the right person."

"T-THAT ISN'T TRUE!" He protested, his hands fluttering over his ribcage. "I FELT IT! YOU'RE THE RIGHT PERSON FOR ME! MAYBE THE ONLY ONE! YOU'RE THE ONLY ONE FOR ME! MY SOUL TOLD ME SO! A-AND YOURS… DIDN'T YOU FEEL ANYTHING LIKE THAT TOO…?"

She had felt something similar indeed. A SOUL resonance was the equivalent of one SOUL tenderly embracing the other – it wasn't something total strangers could do with each other, in theory. It was a gesture that involved meaning. A strong emotional bond; platonic, familial, or romantic, had to exist between the individuals involved. But Frisk had experienced a feeling of kinship with him, empathizing, it was almost like a feeling of finally finding the place where one belonged after endless searching. But it was the very fact they so easily and effortlessly resonated that scared her.

"YOU DID FEEL SOMETHING SIMILAR, DIDN'T YOU?" The Blueberry bitty in her palm smiled almost manically, but his eyes were pleading and glazed over with tears. "YOU UNDERSTAND HOW I FEEL, AND I FEEL THE SAME AS YOU. THAT'S WHY OUR SOULS RESONATED WITH EACH OTHER'S WITHOUT ISSUE! IT WAS A PERFECT RESONANCE WITHOUT FLAW! SO WE'RE PERFECT FOR EACH OTHER!"

"No. You're wrong." She weakly shook her head. "The fact that our SOULs resonanced at all is exactly why this can't work. I've… been hurt. My HP is low. And yours is too. I felt it. You need someone with high HP; someone that will share their HoPe with you, someone that will raise yours instead of bringing it down further. And I'm not the person that can do that for you. I'm not what you need. Do you… understand?"

Frisk was expecting wailing or an extreme meltdown like when he attempted to escape the center earlier, but all he did in response to her rejection was tilt his head slightly downwards to avoid her serious gaze, tears streaming down from the corners of his eyesockets as he responded in a quiet, fragile, and defeated whisper,

"NO… I DON'T UNDERSTAND. NOT AT ALL…"

The Blueberry bitty didn't struggle or make any further protest when she brought him to the front desk to return him under the staff's continued care, telling herself that this was the best she could do for him. It didn't matter how easily their SOULs resonated with one another – the easier he could resonate with her, the more unmatched they were, she thought. He needed someone that could show and give him what she never could – HoPe.

And what a cruel irony it was – she had given him more HoPe than anyone he had ever met and probably ever would in the future, if he still had one, that is.

He didn't need someone with an outpouring of HoPe.

He needed her.

"I truly hope, with all my heart and SOUL, that you'll find the owner right for you." She said before leaving him, but he didn't offer her a single reply, only a blank and emotionless stare.

He already found the right owner for him.

And she was going out that door, out of his SOUL's reach.

His eyes were trained on her as she left the center with Chara, staring at her for as long as he was allowed before Webber scooped him up to carry him back to the rescue room for the evening.

He wondered if he would live to see the sun again tomorrow morning. Nothing seemed to matter anymore now.

~~~~~~~~~~

Chara stepped towards the bus stop, but a slight tug on the sleeve of her sweater stopped her.

"Can we… take the long way home…?" Frisk asked, her emotional exhaustion plain and visible in her expression.

"…If that's what you really want." She answered, having thought that her friend might want to sit down for a spell after everything she had experienced today.

Frisk was tired. So tired. But she felt the need to move, to walk away with her own two legs even though they felt heavy as lead.

She and Chara trudged down the sidewalk, about five miles away from their street and night vast approaching, but their town was safe and both of their parents had been informed they might be returning home late, so they weren't in any hurry.

And Chara could tell Frisk needed some quiet time. She didn't say a word as they walked home, knowing the other's mind was likely plenty noisy at the moment. Frisk's eyes were far off and distant, meaning her thoughts were anywhere but here, and if Chara were to guess, she would be more than willing to bet on the probability of her thoughts being on a lonely Blueberry bitty at the adoption center they just left.

She was disappointed when Frisk had returned him to the establishment, but she understood that her reason for doing so was out of kindness. Even so, she was worried. For the both of them, and was left wondering if this truly was for the best like Frisk insisted.

They were now passing through a farmers market, the shopkeepers still pushing for sales despite the late evening hour, but it wouldn't be long before they too would be packing up their produce for the night and returning to their own homes. Frisk lifted her heavy head and spotted one of the straw-hatted vendors with a Farmy bitty sitting on his shoulder and swinging his legs as he nibbled on a cherry tomato.

Her heart hurt. Her SOUL hurt.

She really had wanted to take him home with her.

She argued with herself that this was for the best, that Blueberry would soon find an owner just for him, that would love and never abandon him, that would give him everything he needed that she couldn't ever hope to provide.

She continued to tell herself this as a plethora of unpleasant thoughts and scenarios plagued her mind.

"When a monster's HP drops to zero, they dust."

When she handed him over to Webber, he had been silent, limp, and listless, when his reaction to rejection, as she previously observed, had been a loud outburst of screaming and tears and a violent flailing of skeletal limbs.

His eyelights had looked dull and lifeless when she left, and all she could picture now was the morbid image of the spider monster checking up on him in the morning only to find a small pile of dust where he had tucked him in the night before.

Frisk was quietly sobbing before she knew it.

She recalled the loving expression on his face as she held him close to her in comfortable silence, their SOULs resonating just as he had said they did, perfectly and without flaw. Frisk despised such words as 'perfection' and 'flawless' because such things didn't exist in human beings or even monsters, but there truly was no other manner in which to describe it.

She had been everything he had ever wanted. And he was everything she wanted too.

And she had just ignorantly thrown that connection away. Tossed it aside.

…Why did she ever think what he needed was an owner with substantial HoPe?

Couldn't they heal each other?

Frisk's steps screeched to a grinding halt. Chara turned towards her, concerned and prepared to ask what was wrong with her friend, but before the first syllable could leave her lips, Frisk swiftly turned around and ran with more purpose than she ever had before in her life.

She raced through the farmers market, not hearing Chara's questioning cries and pleas for her to slow down as Frisk's pace quickened ever further. Frisk was bumping into every person that crossed her path, and she was far too focused to apologize at this moment, but she did acknowledge that she may have knocked over one vedor's cart in her rush to get to her destination.

"MY CABBAGES!"

Yes, she most definitely knocked over that cart, she realized.

But there was no time to stop! She could do that later. If she stopped now, or even slowed down, she might be too late!

She reached the adoption center within minutes, wrapping her hand around the door's handle and praying that they hadn't closed and locked up for the night. They hadn't, but even if they had, the lock would have given in easily from the force with which she swung the door.

Ignoring the alarmed reactions from the staff, she made a beeline for the very room she had walked out of the first time that day filled with fear, the second sorrow, and now inside with DETERMINATION.

She slammed open the door to the rescue room with a resounding echo, which probably wasn't the best thing she could have done in a room reserved solely to injured and anxious bitties, but all caution had been thrown to the wind at this point. Her eyes scanned over the pens until she found her bitty. She immediately bent over the glass wall that came up to her chest in height and reached down to snag the Blueberry, nearly falling in the enclosure with him in the process.

He gave a startled squeak at being grabbed so suddenly, but any sense of fear within him vanished and was promptly replaced with confusion once he saw the face of the human who held him.

"…FRISK? BUT I THOUGHT-"

"I thought so too! B-But I was wrong! I want you!" She shouted, nearly choking on a sob as she cradled him with quaking hands. "I may not be what you need, but… I want you. I want you to come home with me."

He said nothing, didn't offer a single word of reply – but the smile that stretched across his skull and reached his eyes, crinkling with happiness as a fresh wave of tears began beading at the corners of his eyesockets, only this time out of pure joy was a sufficient enough answer for her.

A small crowd composed of the center's staff had formed outside the door, the spectators whispering amongst each other and shoving one another aside to get a glimpse of what was happening inside the room between human and bitty. A hush fell over the group and they began to part when Webber pushed through the gathered employees to investigate what the ruckus was about. He had been in the back of the store when Frisk suddenly barged in, so all he had heard was the front door being slammed open and the sound of several footsteps shuffling around. Thankfully there hadn't been any screaming at the moment, otherwise he would have called the police over something entirely harmless.

His many eyes watched both Frisk and the Blueberry bitty for a minute, taking in the sight as both bawled, but their faces were unmistakably happy. He slowly approached the two, not wanting to break the reverie before him, but it was necessary for him to do so.

Frisk raised her head up to look at him, having sunken to the floor onto her knees long ago in her wave of happiness, regret and relief.

"I-I'll give anything I have on me for him." She said, digging in her purse with her free hand to retrieve her wallet. "I'll pay whatever price you want! Just please let me take him home…"

Webber gnawed on one of his claws in thought – while it was true that all bitties had an adoption fee, money wasn't the issue here. Adopting a bitty from the rescue room was a serious matter. Usually there was a long list of protocols involved; the adopter had to have visited the center frequently for a period of six months at the very least, the adopter had to undergo a thorough background check, the bitty was required to be taken in for check-ups by the staff, and then there were all the procedures that had to be undergone before a rescued bitty was given the mark of approval to be adopted.

But… Frisk was Chara's sister. Chara had been a volunteer at the center for well over a year, and she spoke nothing but good things about her sister. Everyone who worked there knew Frisk's name and what she looked like. The staff probably knew more about her than Frisk's colleages ever had during her years of schooling ever had. And Chara had brought her there today hoping for her to adopt – if Chara trusted Frisk with a bitty, then she could be trusted by the staff with this particular Blueberry.

Webber shook his head and sighed, but he was grinning. "I'll go get the adoption papers."

While the small crowd of employees whooped and cheered, the front door burst open for the second time that evening. Chara stood there, panting and gasping for breath while covered in a thick sheen of sweat. It took her several moments and downing a whole bottle of water later for her to say anything. Once she had regained her breath, the workers caught her up to speed with what happened while the two were seperated.

"Frisk… I'm so happy… for the both of you…" She sputtered, leaning against the counter exhaustedly. "You finally found the bitty for you, and Blueberry's finally gonna have his forever home… A happy ending… Yaaaay…"

Chara nearly collapsed from her fatigue, but Webber and another employee caught her before she could fall, documents scattering everywhere as the spider monster had dropped them in his haste to get to her.

"No. Not a happy ending." Webber disagreed with a chuckle, papers fluttering around them. "This is their happy beginning."

Frisk quickly began filling out the adoption papers once they had all been gathered. Chara had already purchased nearly everything she would need to care for a bitty since she had been so sure that Frisk would be leaving this building with a pygmy skeleton monster in hand – and she was right. The only thing Chara hadn't bought was clothes, since she had no idea which type of bitty Frisk might adopt. While Frisk read over and signed the documents, Chara ran to the clothing section and back to show both new owner and bitty what the store had for sale. By the time they had selected enough clothing and got it paid for, she was on the last piece of paperwork.

"Now the only thing left to do is to give him a name and print it on the dotted line there." Webber instructed; how many times had he been through this scenario before with this same bitty? Unlike the previous occasions, he held high hopes that this would be the last time the lonely Blueberry would ever have to go through the lengthy adoption process.

Frisk tapped the end of her pen against the table in thought – she turned to the bitty seated next to her on the cool marble surface.

"I'LL BE HAPPY WITH WHATEVER NAME YOU CHOOSE. I REALLY DON'T HAVE ANY PREFERENCES OR OBJECTIONS TOWARDS MY NAMING – AS LONG AS IT IS CHOSEN WITH LOVE."

Even so, Frisk felt that his name needed to be special, something that was unique but wouldn't isolate him either. Something inspired…

"…Crescendo." She murmured, jotting it down on the dotted line before she could stop herself.

"Crescendo?" Chara inquired, looking at Frisk then down at the Blueberry bitty.

"Is that alright with you?" Frisk asked him, genuinely wanting his opinion.

"I… I LOVE IT. IT'S PERFECT…" He began sniffling again and Chara handed him a torn piece of tissue.

"Crescendo. It's a wonderful name." Webber agreed, taking the stack of papers from her.

Crescendo. The name resonated with her, because from this point onward, that word would resemble their HoPe. Crescendo - gradually rising; together.

And with that, Chara, Frisk and her new bitty friend Crescendo left the adoption center in higher spirits.

"See, you didn't believe me before, but I told you that for every good person there was a bitty out there for them!" Now that the drama was over, Chara believed that she had earned the right to brag.

"Okay, sure. You were right and I was wrong." Frisk admitted, flicking Chara on the nose. She stuck her tongue out at that.

"But I do still owe you dinner and there's just enough time left to go get something before Dad and Toriel call the cops to come looking for us. Are we still getting pizza?"

Frisk nodded. "What about you, Crescendo? Is pizza alright for dinner with you?"

"…CERTAINLY! I'D LOVE SOME!"

Frisk didn't miss that hesitant pause before he answered.

"You say that, but what you really want is tacos, right?"

He flinched, eye sockets wide with disbelief. How had she known?

"Look, I know that you agreed with me because you thought I'd be happy, but don't do that. You don't have to pretend to like what I do because you're afraid of how I'll react. You don't have to change at all, okay?"

"…OK." He said at last, feeling his SOUL flutter.

"So, do you want to take the bus, or do you want to go to the pizza place and the taco place then take the long way home?" Chara questioned.

"You mean after all that running, you're still asking?" Frisk raised an eyebrow at Chara's disheveled hair.

Chara shrugged. "A moonlight walk might be nice."

"While carrying two pizzas and a bag of tacos?" Frisk eyeballed.

"Whatever! Do you want to take the bus or not?" Chara huffed.

"Well-"

"Ah-ha! You didn't think I would, but I finally caught up to you!" A sudden loud voiced called out to them.

And there stomping up the sidewalk towards the two girls was the merchant from the farmer's market, foaming at the mouth with a Farmy bitty sitting on his shoulder wearing a tilted straw hat, a narrowed gaze, and his skeletal arms crossed.

"THOSE WERE MY CABBAGES!" He shouted, his declaration echoing through the empty street.

He stepped ever closer to them and they backwards, both girls holding their hands up defensively.

"Frisk, what do we do…?" Chara whispered fearfully.

"YOU HAVE BROKEN THE CELERY STALK ON THE BACK OF A SEA URCHIN! FOR THIS YOU MUST-"

"Bus! Bus, bus, bus! WE TAKE THE BUS!" Frisk yelled.

She grabbed Crescendo and tucked him inside the safety of her purse before retrieving her wallet and zipping him up within. She opened the wallet and threw the remainder of her money at the man as a distraction then grabbed Chara by the arm and dragged her onto the conveniently parked bus on the other side of the street. The bus then took off, the three having made their getaway and were on their way to finally getting dinner.

[lunaraen]

I figure a number of the people following me probably do because of a shared interest in Minecraft: Story Mode, and I’m absolutely going to take the time to gush and recommend a different series with a similar sense of humor and ability to balance the jokes with emotion. I know some of the people who follow me are also interested in series like Percy Jackson and Trollhunters, and I think The Last Kids on Earth series is on a similar level to them too, in the sense that it deals with stories about awesome and terrifying adventures featuring teenagers who are just doing their best and who haven’t lost their senses of humor. The Last Kids on Earth also has the benefit of, while being presented mainly through text, having many fun illustrations.

TL;DR: The Last Kids on Earth, written by Max Brallier and illustrated by Douglas Holgate, is a delightfully fun book series that twists what you might expect from a post-apocalyptic story with a just as fun Netflix mini-series adaptation, and while only Book One is up on Netflix now, it’s an hour and seven minute long episode. The series seems to be decently stocked in most libraries, including electronically, so if you’re looking for something fun, silly, and with heart to read, I definitely suggest at least checking out book one. If you want something fun, silly, and with heart to watch, and you also happen to have Netflix, I also definitely recommend watching Book One.

(Oh, and are you a total sucker for found families like I am? This series has you covered.)

More details about the first book and examples of the art and writing under the cut!

For starters, the series has a wonderfully fun art style, and the cover for the first book lets that shine. The other books’ covers are all fun too, but I think tumblr would kill this post many times over if I tried to include them all.

[ID: Illustrated cover, four defiant teenagers stand in a mostly circular formation while grey zombie-like figures with glowing yellow eyes surround them from behind. Each teenager is wielding a weapon, some of which are partly concealed and harder to identify. The character centered at the front holds a splintered and sharp baseball bat and is wearing nondescript pouches. The teenager behind him wields a crossbow with a modified soda-bottle-arrow loaded in it. The title reads “The Last Kids on Earth” in stylized green text with a dark blue border, while in smaller less stylized white text it reads “Max Brallier Author of Galactic Hot Dogs” at the top and “Illustrated by Douglas Holgate” at the bottom.]

The main character of the series, who we meet forty two days after the start of the apocalypse in his town and the Possible End of the World as We Know It™, is Jack Sullivan, a 13 year old whose foster family kinda-sorta-entirely ditched him at the first signs of trouble.

[ID: A white, black haired teenager frowning and holding a splintered baseball bat and a hockey stick while one foot rests on top of an unusual spiny reptilian-like monster head. The text above him reads in black “JACK SULLIVAN -The Hero-” while a number of flavor-text text boxes point out and describe different aspects of his apparel. One pointing to his hand reads “Annoying hand-nail I can’t stop picking at”. Another pointing at his bat says “Louisville Slicer™”. Another for his shoe, reading “Worst. Shoes. Ever.”. The hockey stick is labelled “Hockey Stick, for conking zombie heads.” The pouch at his side are described as “Emergency Peanut M&M Pouch”, while the filled water balloons also hanging at his side are labeled as “Grapefruit juice hand grenades- a blast to the eyes blinds almost anything.”]

He’s our narrator, and he copes largely through humor- a skill he needs even before the start of the apocalypse, because he’ll put himself in danger and say things he shouldn’t if it means sticking up for his best friend.

[ID: Text that reads “I felt Quint’s hand on my shirt, trying to stop me, saying ‘Jack, it’s fine...’ But it wasn’t fine. I hate jerks- whether they’re monster jerks or zombie jerks or just regular human jerks.”

Followed by illustration of characters on bus, Jack turned around in his seat and supporting himself with the back of his chair as he asks “Hey, Dirk, why don’t you pick on someone your own size, huh?” Quint, a black teenager, is sitting behind him and is partly obscured, staring at Jack and Dirk. Dirk, a large, tall white teenager with a mullet/mohawk, is a distance away from the characters and in the foreground of the image, and replies, “Find someone my size and I will.”

Text resumes, reading “I shrugged. ‘I’m sure we can find someone your size. Right, Quint?’ Quint looked out the window and closed his eye and started humming to himself, like he wasn’t involved in this. Sonofa... I turned back to Dirk. ‘Maybe a very rotund panda bear? That might be closer to your impressive figure.’ Dirk reached out and grabbed me by the collar. ‘Hey, Watch the jacket,’ I said. ‘It’s a five-time-hand-me-down. Might even be an antique.’ Dirk growled, ‘You think you’re funny?’ ‘I do. But to be fair, I also think people slipping on ice are funny. And guys getting hit in the groin. My sense of humor isn’t exactly sophisticated.’”]

From the start of the book, Jack handles the apocalypse pretty well, spending his time cataloging the monsters he comes across, keeping track of self made video-game like achievements like knocking off zombie hats, and we first find him focused on trying to get in touch with his previously mentioned best friend, Quint Baker.

[ID: Similar to previous flavor-text text box picture of Jack, with a black teenager smiling, wearing a lab coat and cap, holding a pocket watch, and wearing a large backpack with odd looking technology sticking out of it. In black, the text above him reads “QUINT BAKER -The Best Friend-”. A box pointing to his hat reads “Old-man cap.” Another points to his hair, reading “Hair smells like movie theater popcorn butter.” The pocket watch is described as “Pocket watch for looking dorky.” The text pointing at the technology sticking out of the backpack says “Always working on a new gadget or experiment.” The text for the lab coat reads “Wears a lab coat as a jacket for no good reason.” His sneaker is labelled with “Non-athlete’s foot.”]

Actually- to give you an even better idea of the series’ humor, this is pretty much where we start with Jack, followed by him explaining what he’s been doing and how he got here.

[ID: Jack in mid-air, the bat raised above his head and his legs bent to suggest he has leaped forward, above a large multi-eyed spiny monster that has many sharp teeth, two large tusks, and a long drooling tongue. In black, text above the creature reads “Deadly Duel!” In the lower right-hand corner, all-caps white text in a small black box asks “Who will triumph?!”]

(By the by, the “duel” kind of goes the way you think it would.)

[ID: Text reading “Well, basically, he triumphs. The monster’s massive hand snatches me out of midair. I’m a thimble in his gargantuan grasp. I try to grab hold of my baseball bat blade (aka the Louisville Slicer) but the monster’s crushing grip pins my arms to my sides. He pulls me in close to his face. Thick saliva, like slime, oozes down his lips. His eyes scan me over and his gaping nostrils flair as he inhales my scent. I feel like that blonde babe in King Kong. Only I don’t think this beast wants to hug me and love me... He sniffs some more, blowing my hair back as he exhales. I turn my face. His breath, it’s just- wow- my man here needs to floss. I’ve encountered other freaky beasts over the last forty-two days, but none like this. None that examined me: looking me over, smelling me, studying me.”]

Then we get all the fun backstory end of the world stuff.

[ID: White all-caps text at the top reads “Total monster zombie chaos” while below a large multi-armed, spiny, sharp-toothed, furry monster towers over a sea of zombies, flinging one car in the air as another car sits in the background.]

The end of the world monsters include everything from weird unfamiliar creatures like the one above to more familiar weird creatures like the typical zombie below.

[ID: A zombie in ripped clothing, with black text at the top labeling it a “Classic Zombie”. A speech bubble from it in shaky text reads “Mmuhhh...” and various flavor-text text boxes surround it. The speech-bubble is labeled as “Constant, creepy moaning.” The head’s text box reads “Those empty eyes- they’re spooksville.” The mouth is pointed at and its box says “Bite you and you’re one of them. Undead!” One pointing at its back warns “Stink like hot garbage.” The feet are described as “Slow, until they get close- then fast!”]

And for all the wisecracks and jokes about how well he can handle the new apocalyptic world, early on Jack is shown to be more than just a 2-D smart-mouthing teenage protagonist. He’s pretty good at coping, but he’s still 13.

[ID: Illustration above text, showing a walkietalkie shattering as it hits a rock. Black all-caps text reads “Smash!”

Normal text reads “I stared at the walkie on the ground below. I needed to talk to Quint, but -I’m embarrassed to admit- I was too scared to go down there. Too freaked out. Too scared. Too everything. So I curled up on the floor. I pulled a jacket down over me. I put my earphones in to drown out the sounds of chaos outside. And I slept. I slept for days. It got worse. Zombies everywhere. Giant monsters on the horizon. I blacked out the tree house windows and stayed put.”]

Jack doesn’t stay alone for long, though, and the first book follows him and his friends as they help each other not only survive their crazy new world but also live in it, and maybe actually have some fun along the way. While the first book largely focuses on the group coming together, later stories ramp up the scope of adventures and the threats they face while letting the characters’ interactions and care for each other shine. There’s fun development to be had and cool monster-butt to kick.

(This was my first time writing image descriptions- if you think they can be improved, let me know!)

[purplesurveys]

717

Do you judge books more by their cover, name, or description on the back? I don’t really read anymore but when I go to bookstores I do tend to flock to sections with covers I find more attractive. I’ll look at straightforward or minimalist covers over ones with too much graphic design/effects any day. Have you ever asked someone what your voice sounds like to them? Nah I’ve never asked anyone directly. When I’m curious to hear my own voice I just do a quick recording of myself on my phone. Which underwater creature do you find the most badass? I’ve seen GIFs of either an octopus or squid? camouflaging in sand on a seabed and to me was so so cool. Where is your favourite place to get pizza? Yellow Cab for fast food, Mama Lou’s if I’m spending more. Pizza Hut is too greasy, Shakey’s too salty, Domino’s is too obscure and few and far between, so those two scream perfect choices. What was the last Disney movie you watched? I think it was Tangled cause I always do a rewatch once every few months.

How do you usually find out what the weather'll be like for the next week? We only have two main weathers and they’re always on schedule, so telling the weather has always been predictable: sunny from September to April and a bit of rain from May to August. What is the design on the nearest tissue box? We don’t have a tissue box in the living room. Why have/haven't you joined Twitter? I joined in 2009 and idk back then it was a wild concept to have to answer the question ‘What are you doing?’ in 140 characters plus some celebrities like Solange and Ashton Kutcher were already on Twitter, OH and the idea of trending topics was pretty awesome too, so those convinced me to join. 

These days I like staying on Twitter because it’s pretty much transformed into a website where we can be vulnerable and depressed and, if we want to, make fun of it lmao. If we have to be fake on Facebook for family and friends we certainly can shed that on Twitter and simply be ourselves. And all the memes are there too so that’s a big plus. Are you good at rhyming? If I have time to think about it yeah. But if you mean like freestyling then no. Will you be watching season 6 of Futurama when it airs? I’ve never seen the show. Have you ever done a run/walk for charity? Nope. When's the last time you were woken up in an obnoxious way? A couple of years back when Gab slapped me in her sleep D: Why do you/don't you enjoy horror movies? I like seeing how filmmakers and FX artists can push the limits of what counts as horror or creepy or disgusting, or what makes audiences scream. The last horror movie I watched wherein I felt the crew really achieved this was Midsommar. Until now I can’t with that fucking pulsating flower. Has anyone ever applied your makeup for you? How did it work out? Yeah when Kate was still a student she would put makeup on me whenever she was bored. She’s a great artist! I never looked bad when she worked on my face.

Do you have any celebrity's perfume? Yeah, Beyonce’s. How well do you do at Scrabble? Scrabble used to be my PE elective (hahahahaha yes it’s a PE in my school) so during that point I was quite good and saw an improvement in my skills. But that was like 3 years ago and I’ve played literally zero scrabble since the class ended, so I’m guessing I’m back to square one when it comes to strategy. Who is your favourite Scooby-Doo character? Daphne was one of my first girlcrushes ever. I’ve never seen the show though so I’m purely going off based on their looks. Have you ever played or been interested in playing World Of Warcraft? No. How do you assume people judge you when they first see you? Quiet, intimidating, unapproachable maybe. What kind of cake/other dessert treat did you have for your last birthday? I didn’t have a cake; I had sushi for lunch and katsu for dinner. Who do you think does the best job at cartoon voiceovers? Will fucking Arnett simply for his work on Free Churro. I find Tom Kenny’s and Tara Strong’s talent to be extremely versatile as well. Does your dad wear a watch all the time? Only when we go outside. Has breast cancer ever affected someone you know? I’m sure I know a few people whose moms have had it, but I wouldn’t be able to recall who. How much ice cream do you think you'd be able to eat before you got sick? Just a small bowl of it as it’s not my favorite dessert. I like taking my time to eat my desserts, so ice cream’s nature of melting in like 10 minutes just clashes with that quirk of mine. Do you have any unusual sleeping habits? I don’t know if I do anything weird while I sleep but I only have two positions I can fall asleep in: hugging a pillow and sleeping on my side, or sleeping on my stomach. If I try any other position, it’s hopeless and I 130% won’t be able to fall asleep. I also barely move in my sleep and I typically wake up in just about the same position I fell asleep in. Do you know anybody under 40 with grey hair? I knew people from high school who were already growing white hair. How well would your family do if you were on Family Feud? My dad and I would probably be saving our team’s asses. My mom would just be there for comic relief since she buckles under pressure and my sister would probs mess up some categories here and there. What is the latest time you've gone to bed in the past week? 4:30 AM. Do you think you have the potential to be a good stalker? Yes. I study journalism - we have our ways lmao. Why did you read the last book that you read? I needed to, for class.

[marlettwrites]

20, 34, and 40 for the ask game for the OC's! Just. Any of them you want. Go willd. I love.

*rubs hands together evilly* Go wild I shall

20. Does your character like animals? What are some of their favorite animals? Would they want pets? What about mythological creatures?

Jude: 

Jude absolutely loves animals! He especially loves learning about them. His favorites are donkeys (because Rubi was the first animal he ever met, and he absolutely loves her to bits) and frogs (they’re just so interesting) at the moment. He would keep literal heaps of frogs as pets if he could, but he doesn’t have anywhere to keep them that would be safe and comfortable. Honestly, you could show Jude any animal that he’s never seen before (which is most of them) and he’ll spend months researching and observing it.

The only animal he’ll actively avoid is a crocodile. He once healed a man who was nearly bitten in half by a crocodile, and he’s been terrified of them ever since.

As for mythological creatures, he knows they exist, but has no idea how to distinguish them from regular animals. Apep? They’re just a really big snake that talks, what’s so weird about that? Sea monster? It’s a big scaly thing that swims. Isn’t that just a shark?

Kul: 

Kul is very cautious around animals and has had to pull Jude away from some pretty dangerous ones on several occasions. However, he does like both dogs and cats. Dogs have a lot of energy that they need to constantly expend, and Kul Feels That on a spiritual level. Cats are really sly and crafty, and if that doesn’t describe Kul to a ‘t’, I don’t know what does.

I’ve been playing around with the idea of giving Kul a guide dog as well, so that would be the closest thing to a pet you would get with him.

As for mythical creatures: “Rodents of unusual size? I don’t think they exist.”

Hathor:

Hathor worships the cat goddess Bast, so you can probably guess her favorite animal. She doesn’t keep a cat as a pet, but there is a stray that follows her around. She’ll occasionally feed it scraps, and it will crawl in her window at night to cuddle.

Hathor used to believe in mythical creatures when she was younger, but she doesn’t so much anymore. When she did believe, she was afraid of them. Most of Egypt’s monsters are not very friendly.

Braheem:

Braheem reveres and respects both animals and mythological creatures. A big part of the culture on Punt revolves around giving thanks to nature, because that’s where their magic comes from. He treats them with the same respect he would give to a human being. If he needs an animal for transportation reasons, he’ll make certain he has enough resources for them on the journey and he’ll thank them afterward.

Akela: 

Cats are extremely good. They aren’t too needy, but are still beautiful to look at, and quite graceful. They can be affectionate, but tend to keep a respectful distance for the most part.

Mythical creatures? How old do you think I am, ten?

Kasaika:

Animals are either tools or pests to him. If he ever saw a mythological creature, they would fall into either one of those categories as well.

34. Does your character have favorite foods? (breakfast, lunch, dinner, dessert, snacks, etc)

Jude:

Jude will go absolutely apeshit for a slice of fresh olive bread, or some just-picked fruit. In the Kingdom of Thieves, he’d often get saddled with everyone else’s leftovers, meaning most of his diet consisted of stale bread and mushy- sometimes moldy -fruit. Just give the guy something fresh, or even day-old and he’ll cry tears of joy.

Don’t try to offer him any form of meat, though. Then his tears will be sad.

Kul:

Kul just really likes to eat lamb. Lamb kebabs are his favorite because his whole meal is just right there on a stick. He can grab it and go and not have to interact with his family at dinnertime.

Olive bread and dates are absolutely horrendous, and he’d rather die than put either one near his face.

Hathor:

Bread. Cheese. Grapes. Fucking superb. The snack plate of the gods.

Coconut is horrible. The texture. The lack of moisture. So. Damn. Dry.

Braheem:

Braheem can’t afford to be picky about what he eats, but his absolute favorite dish is groundnut soup with fu-fu (fu-fu is like dumplings, I think. Please correct me if I got that wrong). It reminds him of home.

Akela:

Bread and beer makes up most of her diet. She’ll occasionally throw some kind of fruit in there, just to mix it up a little.

Kasaika:

He must have the first pick of anything. He’s not picky about what he eats, as long as he gets it before anyone else.

However, he will throw hands if any sort of meat is brought in and not taken directly to him.

40. Does your OC have any guilty pleasures they enjoy? Hobbies, past times, music, etc that they wouldn’t want known by others?

Jude:

Jude keeps a journal of societal norms and laws and refers to it often. A lot of things about people still confuse him, and it helps him to keep everything organized in one place. One thing he doesn’t need the journal for is knowing that people would think his journal is weird.

Kul:

Kul has a secret compartment in his desk that he built a few years back. It contains various items that he’s not supposed to have, such as little knives, pliers, nails, and other building materials. It’s his secret prank desk, and his dad would probably fire like ten people and then confine Kul to his room for a month if he found it.

Hathor:

Hathor sneaks out of the palace a lot to buy clay for herself and prank materials for Kul (she never buys as much as he asks for though. She knows Kul can go a little overboard with his pranks). This is both very difficult, and very dangerous. Thebes has a rampant thief problem and Hathor just so happens to be a rich bitch.

She also spends a lot of time training with one of the palace guards she befriended, just in case something goes wrong on one of her outings.

Braheem:

This dude has been collecting and storing traveling gear in secret since the first week he joined the Kingdom of Thieves. Which like, Kasaika would kill him for if he knew.

Akela:

Akela keeps a flower garden as a tribute to a child she couldn’t save.

Kasaika:

Kasaika keeps a secret shrine to Isis, the goddess of life, and will often pray to her.

Thank you so much for these questions! They’ve actually really helped me flesh out some characters. :D

[lolzcollz]

W I L D

Can I tell you a secret? I think someone’s trying to kill me. Actually, I know they are since they told me point blank they would kill me if I ever told anyone about this. But I have to tell someone.

I’ve always felt…different than everyone else. In high school I was the kid who didn’t fit in with anyone, not even the misfits. I was the one lone wolf and no one wanted to be friends with me or talk to me. I got bullied. Not a whole lot, but you know, enough to make it mean something to me. I always wondered what was wrong with me. There’s just something that makes people think I’m a werido and a loser. But that’s why when I’m online I can be something…else. People don’t know me as me, you know? They don’t know Calvin the weird guy who doesn’t have friends. They know C.C Andre, the esteemed smut writer.

I know what you’re thinking: a smut writer? What the fuck is that? I write stories about sex. People having sex with each other, people having sex with household objects, people having sex with animals, animals having sex with animals, etc. Basically anything that can have sex with something else, I’ve written it. I get people emailing me requests for stories all the time. I don’t actually want to write about someone fucking their pet dog but people idolize me. They tell me how great my stories are and how rock hard they get when they read my words. That’s all I’ve ever really wanted. I feel like I’m almost needed, you know?

I know, I know. It’s fucked up. I decided recently I was going to stop writing them altogether. And I swear, I was going to but then I got an email from someone. It was an anonymous email, most of them are, but that wasn’t the weird part. I’ll just copy and paste what this person sent me:

“C.C. Andre,

I hope this email finds you well. I have a request for you to write a story. I’ve attached a file to this email. Watch the video. Memorize the video. I would like for you to transcribe every single detail. I mean, every single detail, down to the last hair. I am entrusting you to not share this video with anyone else. I hope I wouldn’t have to threaten you but if you do share the video I will know, and I will kill you.

I am willing to pay any price you name. I look forward to hearing back from you.”

None of this was really strange to me. I mean, sometimes people send me pictures of their furry suits to use as reference but no one had ever sent a video before. I had just assumed it was a at home porno some couple made. I opened the link without thinking twice. What I saw on that video…it was…it was something else.

The video opened up in the woods. There were trees all around, you couldn’t see past the thick bunches of leaves. The camera was shaky. Whoever was holding it seemed nervous. You could hear their heavy breathing. They walked further into the woods and eventually came upon a clearing. They put the camera down on a tree stump and stood in front of the lens. The person was a man and seemed to be in his early forties. When he got in front of the camera he stopped for a couple seconds. He looked like he was listening for something. When he was satisfied with whatever he was waiting for he began to undress. He slowly unbuttoned his shirt and folded it. He started a pile of his clothes next to him. Next, he took off his jeans. He too folded those and added it to the pile. He waited for a second before taking off his boxers. I could see his boner through them already. I didn’t know what to expect from this. Maybe he was just in the woods alone and filming himself jacking off? Also not the most unusual request I’ve received. Finally, he took off his underwear and released his throbbing cock. It sprung over his boxer’s band with full force. He added those to the pile.

Once all the man’s clothes were folded neatly and he was stark naked in the woods, he slowly got down on his hands and knees. He stayed in that position for a long time. I waited five or so minutes before I started to skip ahead to see what would happen next. I finally saw motion behind him, in the woods. The leaves had moved just slightly. I played the video and waited again. I saw a hand or…a paw or something move the leaves. I couldn’t see a face. The hand receded back into the woods. I could hear a sound. It was like a grunt or like a snort. It sounded almost pig like or a noise only an animal could make. The man in the video heard it too and a grin broke out across his face. He started to work his cock in his hand, pumping up and down at a fast pace. The grunt happened again, closer this time as if whatever was making the sound was behind the camera. The man looked up at the camera and moaned. It sounded more like a battle cry than a moan. There was a noise then that sounded like a bark. The man immediately stopped touching himself and looked down at the ground. Nothing happened for another ten minutes. I waited and waited but there was no more noises and the man was as still as a statue. I almost thought the video had frozen because of how still he was. Eventually though, whatever was standing behind the camera, whatever had been making those noises started walking towards the man. I don’t know what that thing was. I can’t tell you with any confidence or surety but I can tell you what I saw.

The thing was huge. I’m talking seven or eight feet tall kind of huge. Mother fucker was big too, at least a couple hundred pounds. I thought it was a bear at first with all the hair it had. It was covered head to toe in brown hair. The hair looked a little straggly. It seemed almost like a combination of human hair and fur. I guessed it must have been a furry suit someone created. Kinda weird, but again, nothing I haven’t seen before. The weird part is what happened next. The creature or the man in the furry suit or whatever the fuck that thing was mounted the guy on his hands and knees and started to fuck him. When I say it started to fuck him, I cannot emphasize this enough, it fucked him. I could have sworn there was something wrong with the file. The thing moved faster than any normal human could have. It continued for forty five minutes. I’m not kidding. I watched every single fucking second. I tried to see if there was some kind of loop happening but it wasn’t on a loop. It was real time happening for forty five minutes. Eventually the guy started to bleed basically everywhere. There was blood streaming down from his ass, blood was coming out of his eyes and nose. Halfway through, he wiped his face and saw the blood covering his hand. He didn’t seem worried or scared he fucking smiled. He took his bloodied hand and started masturbating with it. I was disgusted. I couldn’t watch another minute yet I watched the whole thing. Then I watched it again, and again. I had to make sure I was actually seeing what I was seeing.

When the creature was done fucking the guy it, I’m assuming from the insane growl it let out that it had come inside the man. The creature moved backwards to remove itself from the man’s ass and put its hands on the man’s waist. It flipped the guy onto his back and with one swipe it opened up the man’s midsection. His intestines spilled out of his body and the man screamed. He screamed and screamed. The creature grabbed the intestines and shoved it into the man’s mouth to muffle his screams. The man continued to scream through his own organs and tried to shake the creature off of him. But like I said, this thing was fucking huge, there was no way this man could buck it off. Eventually the man stopped screaming and he stopped fighting. He lay still and silent. The creature pulled the intestines out of the man’s mouth and put them in its own mouth and started to eat. It slurped it up like it was a plate of fucking spaghetti. When the creature was done it got up off the man and walked to the camera. I could finally see its face. It looked like the combination of a dog and a human. It picked up the camera and looked right into the lens. It growled one last time and the screen went black.

I don’t know what the fuck any of that was. I watched it over and over trying to decipher it but I couldn’t find any indication that it was a hoax. I started to do my own research. I felt like a fucking fool googling this shit. I looked up any creature I could think of and in my mind I’ve come to a conclusion. I think…that video is of big foot fucking a dude. I don’t know who sent it to me or how they got their hands on it but I can’t just fucking sit here and do nothing. This needs to be seen it needs to be researched. If anything, I need to know if it’s a fake so I can sleep better at night. I can’t be the only one who’s seen this.

I just heard someone open my front door. I think they’re coming for me. Please, I need you to watch this. I might not be alive anymore by the time you’ve finished watching and if you don’t hear from me send this to everyone you know. Reporters, bloggers, your friends, everyone needs to know the truth.

  10/24/2019

Colleen Burke

[fuckyeahgakuenheaven]

In 2014, Spray posted a long and detailed birthday event for Yuki on Twitter! It was the first major Twitter event to happen after the release of the game and they really went all out with the story. There was even a series of summer themed goods with illustrations that match the story, even though the items weren’t officially linked with the story. BUT WE KNOW.

Here’s the translation. :D (most of it is under a cut because it’s looooooong)

~~~

August 1

Sonoda: Hey, Yuki-kun, do you want to work tomorrow?

Yuki: Work?

Sonoda: Yeah. An acquaintance of mine who has a beach house, it seems his staff have all caught summer colds. He's looking for temp staff.

Sonoda: I've asked the people who stayed at the dorm who seem like they had nothing to do, but won't you do it too? I'll throw in my meals, and as much playing in the ocean as you want, and as much flirting as you want.

Yuki: I don't care about the flirting, but if I can eat your food, I'll go!!

August 2

Yuki: Today I'm going to work at a beach house as Sonoda-san's helper!

Yuki: We're going in this minibus...?

Chiba: Leave any watermelon splitting to me.

Kuya: Good morning, Yuki! We were waiting for you to arrive. Let's a have a fun day today!

Takato: You're helping Sonoda, aren't you? We can't just make Asahina work by himself, we're helping too.

Joker: I look forward to seeing Ace-kun in a swimsuit♪

Sonoda: Yuki-kun, thank you for coming today. I'll let you eat as much food as you work for.

Arata: If Yuki and everyone is going, I guess I can enjoy the ocean.

Tomo: Yuki, did you bring a swimsuit?

Yagami: Asahina, you hurting for money too? The band ate my savings, so I have to earn something here or I'm screwed.

Yuki: Wow! Everyone's here. Oh, even Professor Sakaki!

Sakaki: You're all underage, so I'm here as your guardian. I'll be guarding against you all getting out of control, and being anything other than model students.

Kuya: By the way, Yuki. What is the swimsuit Joker was talking about before?

Yuki: Sonoda-san said wearing a swimsuit is basic when you're working at a beach house. Huh? You don't have one, Kuya-san?

Kuya: Mine is a Hawaiian shirt!

Chiba: Mine is a Hawaiian shirt too.

Kuya: We match!

Chiba: ... If my clothes match with you, I'd rather be naked.

Yuki: Naked would be bad, Chiba-san! Isn't Hawaiian okay? It has a summery, ocean feel!

Chiba: I see. If you say so....

Joker: No. Hayato, I'm confiscating your Hawaiian one. Here, wear this.

Yuki: Joker-san, why is it no good?

Joker: Well, look at this Hawaiian shirt. It's in the worst taste.

Yuki: Ugh.... This is... a bit unusual... I guess....

Kuya: What an original pattern!

Chiba: Is it that weird?

Joker: Yeah. A bit. Well, if you're going to train, Hayato, a swimsuit is better.

Chiba: Yes....

Yuki: Arata-san, do you have your usual swimsuit?

Arata: Since I'm not swimming in the ocean, I brought a hoodie and shorts. With a hoodie, Maro can be comfy too. (kuku!)

Yuki: Maro's with you too. Let's have fun today!

Yuki: We're here! The ocean! Ocean!

Takato: It's good weather.

Yagami: Too hot. How many years has it been since I was at a beach? If it wasn't today, I never would've come.

Kuya: Masatsugu!? What's with those sunglasses? They don't suit you!

Takato: Leave it alone, please. It's too bright.

Sonoda: Then, I'll divide the work. To attract customers, Kiyo, please flirt with the customers and bring them here.

Joker: Okay♪ Leave the flirting to me. I'll bring so many bikini babes there won't be room for them all.

Kuya: Flirting! That sounds fun! Then, I'll leave the sexy babes to Joker, and I'll bring couples. Rather than one by one, I'll gather two times the customers!

Arata: Since I can't be with Maro inside the restaurant, I guess I'll attract customers on the beach. Since the goal is to attract customers, I'll try calling out to families.

Chiba: Myself will....

Joker: Hayato, flirting is impossible for you. Oh, why don't you attract customers by shaving ice with a Japanese sword?

Chiba: Understood.

Sonoda: Hayato, you're in charge of selling shaved ice and drinks. Then, the one who will help me with the cooking is...

Yuki: I think Tomo would be good!

Tomo: Why me?

Yuki: Well, you're surprisingly skillful. If you go off somewhere, you'll goof off.

Sonoda: Is that ok? You're not very likely to flirt in here. And so, you too Professor Sakaki. If I don't make you work, you'll just drink the whole time.

Sakaki: Sonoda, what do think I am?

Takato: Then, Yagami and I will be in charge of the remaining hall.

Yagami: Yeah. I can carry plates. Leave it to me.

Yuki: What should I do?

Sonoda: For now, help where it seems busy. First, do the cooking prep for me.

Yuki: Suuure!

Sonoda: Well, from here on, this will be a battlefield, so psych yourselves up. Professor Sakaki, you grill. Kasahara, you prep the shrimp. Yuki-kun, you wash all the vegetables here.

Yuki: Got it! ... Wait. Th, there's this many?

Tomo: Uwah, my shrimp is a huge pile.... Isn't this an Asian food restaurant? Aren't there too many types of dishes for a beach house?

Sonoda: In these times, it seems you can't sell just yakisoba. I've heard if a restaurant doesn't set itself apart, it won't survive.

Yuki: Besides, Tomo, I'm surprised you took this job.

Tomo: That's, well... I had time, and I heard you were joining, so....

Takato: I have an order. Green Curry, Ga-Prao, Pad Thai, Loco Moco, Yum Woon Sen, Mochiko Chicken, one each.

Sonoda: Roger. Here, Shanghai Yakisoba, Vietnam Fried Rice, ready.

Yuki: Wow, I don't even know what kind of foods those are, but they seem delicious. Besides, Sonoda-san, your cooking speed is amazing.

Sonoda: Yuki-kun, on top of drooling, your hands have stopped. If you have time to stare, get to work! When you're done with those, next is washing dishes!

Yuki: R, right! Sonoda-san, you're harsh. I don't even have time to stare at the food....

Tomo: (Sonoda-san is more mobile than he usually is in the school cafeteria. In that case, he could manage without at least me....)

Yuki: Tomo, were you just thinking that since Sonoda-san is working so hard, that you could goof off?

Tomo: I, I wasn't... thinking that.... (How did he find out?)

Sakaki: Kasahara, you should follow Sonoda's example.

Sonoda: Kasahara~~. In this situation, how dare you even think of taking it easy? I'm adding a hundred potatoes to peel.

Yuki: My condolences, Tomo.

Tomo: Oh no.

Sakaki: Hehe, that Sonoda, he's even more of a slave-driver than I am.

Sonoda: You're one to talk, Professor Sakaki. What is that you have in your hand that you're drinking?

Sakaki: Lao Jiu wine. It's pretty good.

Sonoda: You corrupt teacher.... You even added a peeled slice of green papaya that was for the Som Tam.

Yuki: It's better working diligently... but I can't stand the smell of the food Sonoda is making. It's been hours and hours and I've gotten hungry.

Tomo: Hm? What's that sound? It doesn't seem like the sound of Sonoda-san cooking.

Sakaki: Is it some creature's cry?

Yuki: It's, my stomach.... Smelling this scent made me hungry, and no matter how much I try to endure it, I can't stop it....

Sonoda: Oh, come to think of it, I promised you meals. You can eat this. It's my special Tom Yam Kung and Poo Pad Pong Curry!

Yuki: Thank you! Let's eat!! Fwaaah!! It's so delicious! The miraculous flavor of these spices blows away the heat! I could get used to the refreshing soup of this Tom Yam Kung. I'm so happy~.

Sonoda: I'm glad you like it. We seem to have enough people here, so won't you go see how the hall is doing?

Takato: Yagami, two Nasi Goreng, two Mi Goreng, for two tables please.

Yagami: Nasigo... argh, these all have annoying names! Two fried rice, two yakisoba, coming up!

Yuki: Welcome! Wah! Amazing, we're full!?

Yuki: Takato-san, Yagami, I've come to help.

Takato: Well then, I'm taking the orders, so Asahina, follow my directions along with Yagami, and please carry the food.

Yagami: That Secretary, he remembers it perfectly without taking notes. If you follow his directions, you won't make a mistake.

Yuki: Just what I'd expect of you, Takato-san!

Yuki: Alright! I wonder if could do it without mistakes....

Takato: Hmm. Asahina, you don't look bad in that apron with only a swimsuit on underneath. You look especially nice from the back.

Yuki: I knew it, Takato-san...

Yagami: I withdraw my praise from before.

Takato: I'm laboring diligently, surrounded by couples. Allow me the enjoyment of feasting my eyes.

Yuki: If you're okay with this, then feast to your heart's content. Well, let's do our best for the lunch rush and get through this!

Yuki: ... Oh, putting this and this on the tray, it's heavy.... You can really hold a lot, Yagami.

Yagami: Because playing an instrument builds up muscle in your arms. Look, my bicep.

Yuki: Your arm looks like a chicken drumette baked golden brown.... I want to take a bite out of it... *drool*

Yagami: ... I'm not food! Hurry and carry these!

Yuki: Riiight! Ok, I'll do my best!

Yuki: Phew, finally a pause.

Yagami: Those guys attracting customers got too carried away. Think about my capacity!

Takato: Since it seems we're running low on ingredients, it's time to refrain from attracting more.

Yuki: Then I'll go tell the group attracting customers!

Yuki: Everyone! How is attracting customers coming along?

Arata: Mm, I guess with that family I just guided before, that's 22 people. Since I have Maro, they all call out to me. (Kuku!)

Kuya: Amazing, Aratan! I finally got 10 people.

Joker: Well, Sagimori-sempai, since you were giving people directions and helping lost kids find their parents, you didn't attract any customers at all. Like this, I'll win the match with room to spare.

Yuki: Match? Are you competing? Yagami says to drop your pace a little.

Arata: That's right. It's bad to make customers line up too much. Maybe you should stop competing.

Kuya: But since Yuki is here, how about Yuki joins too and we have one final match? I aim to pull off an upset win!

Joker: Then, I'll give you a handicap. Yuki-kun, you'll start at +15. I'm in first place with 23, so if you can get just 10 people, you'll be at the top. There's something nice if you get first place, so do your best★

Yuki: Um, somehow I've ended up participating in a contest to attract customers? Oh well. Joker-san said there's something nice if I get first place and... oh. I found a group of tourists! Excuse me! There's a beach house with really delicious food, how about it?

Arata: Time's up. Well then, I'll announce the results! 2nd place Joker, 3rd place Arata. At the bottom with a decisive lead, O-Sagi-san. And impressively in 1st place is Yuki! Congratulations. ... This many in just under ten minutes, you're amazing after all, Yuki. You have a charm that draws people in.

Yuki: Haha, it's because the first group of tourists I called out to by chance said ok, so it was just good luck.

Joker: Then as promised, the person in first place gets treated by the person in last.

Kuya: Yeah, I'll treat you to anything! Tell me what you want to eat. Hotdogs? Roasted corn? Soft serve ice cream?

Yuki: Then, shaved ice. I've been hot for a while.

Joker: In that case, make it Hayato's shaved ice. He's been working hard by himself over there since before. Also, Sagimori-sempai, if you want to make an erotic overture, you'll have to do it better or it won't get through.

Kuya: Hm!? But Masatsugu said that swimsuit-clad cuties eating cylindrical things at a summer beach is the basics of eros in midsummer. Is that wrong?

Yuki: I want to eat those even more now....

Arata: Yuki, if you're going to eat shaved ice, can I come too? I had a plastic bottle of ice I was using to keep Maro cool, but it melted. (Kuu~)

Yuki: Then let's go over to the shaved ice. Chiba-san! How is it going over there... oh, there's so many people gathered around!

Kuya: Just what I'd expect from Chiba-sempai! He really is shaving ice with a Japanese sword!

Chiba: Asahina. You're here.

Joker: Hayato, a shaved ice for Yuki-kun. Oh, Sagimori-sempai will be paying.

Chiba: Alright. Watch from there. ... Huff! ... Done. What flavor do you want?

Yuki: Then, make it blue hawaii. Let's eat.... It's delicious! Chiba-san, you're amazing. This ice melts like fine snow in my mouth!!

Joker: Wow, really? Then, I'd like a bite of yours too, Yuki-kun.

Yuki: Alright. Here, say ah.

Kuya: That's not fair, Joker! Yuki, me too....

Arata: Somehow, O-Sagi-san, you're awfully greedy today. Did the heat get to you...?

Yagami: You jerks, don't be goofing off here!

Arata: Oh, Reo-Reo. Good work. Is managing the restaurant going ok?

Joker: Since we attracted that many people, it's like you should be grateful for a full house.

Yagami: You've got to be kidding me. We're over capacity. Asahina, you didn't forget you were supposed to tell them to stop attracting customers, did you? Just before, a group of over 20 tourists barged in. The Secretary is losing his temper, Sonoda's about to freak out, and the inside of the restaurant is a picture of Hell.

Yuki: Oh, sorry. I'm the one who summoned that group of tourists.

Kuya: We're sorry, Yagami-kun! Well then, let's quit attracting customers and help in the restaurant!

~~~

Yuki: Phew, somehow it's at an end.

Sonoda: We're almost sold out on ingredients for the restaurant, and we've met our sales target, so go play in the ocean.

Joker: But if we're going to do that, I want some sort of prize. I know! How about the right to play alone with Yuki-kun on the beach?

Yuki: Huh, what's that supposed to be!?

Joker: Then, why don't we all play beach volleyball?

Kuya: That's a great idea!

Takato: Oh, that's not bad.

Joker: Hayato. You're on my team.

Chiba: Understood.

Arata: That's nice.... In that case, maybe I'll try to win.

Yagami: Then, will you be on my team? I don't really get the point of the prize, but I won't lose a match.

Yuki: Um, what about what I want...?

Tomo: Give it up. When Joker-san is enjoying himself like that, there's no stopping him.

Joker: True, maybe we should stop. Take a look at the ocean.

Yuki: Hm? W, what's that!? That's a huge wave... and is that a shark by it? Uh-uh, a giant squid?

Joker: An unknown creature? Oka-chan would enjoy it. Let's try catching it.

Yuki: Uwaaaah! It's coming this way!!

Chiba: Leave this to me, get back, Asahina!

Kuya: It's really big, but it's moving slowly. It doesn't seem that dangerous, does it?

Chiba: Perfect, there's a sword here. Then, I'll cut it...!

Yuki: What should we do? "Run?" "Fight?" "Catch?" I'll ask everyone watching on Twitter. What should I do?

Takato: I agree with "run." It's said a wise man keeps away from danger, isn't it?

Chiba: "Fight" of course...!

Kuya: I put in one vote for "catch." It's possible it might be a nice animal, right?

Yuki: Alright, then "catch" it is!

Tomo: Seriously?

Kuya: Roger!

Joker: Hayato, help catch it!

Chiba: Understood! Huh!? Asahina, don't plunge in alone! ... Sagimori, you go in from the left. Myself will go around from the right.

Kuya: Alright! Let's both back up Yuki! Don't let down your guard, Chiba-sempai!

Yuki: Caaaught yooou! ... Oh, huh? This isn't a squid. It's a giant squid-shaped kite. Man, and I wanted to eat it if it was a giant squid.... So disappointing. (note: Yuki is not just talking about a large squid, he is referring to the giant squid, genus Architeuthis.)

Chiba: ... It wasn't an enemy?

Arata: Is everyone ok? Is it okay for Maro to get close? (Kyuu...)

Kuya: Too bad! It can't be our friend like this.

Yagami: It wasn't worth all the fuss.

Sakaki: It looks like you don't have to be so disappointed. There's a lot of fish stuck in the fabric of that kite.

Yuki: You're right! Over here and over there, there's lots of fish! Are these edible?

Takato: It appears so. Squid, mackerel, flounder, turban snails, and there's even spiny lobster, it seems.

Sonoda: Then, shall we have a barbecue with these ingredients?

Yuki: Woohoo. Seafood barbecue!!

Kuya: Nice, barbecue! I couldn't agree more!

Chiba: Seafood barbecue, huh. Sounds delicious.

Takato: Then let's all help Sonoda. It would be terrible to leave it all to him alone.

Yuki: Riiight!

~~~

Yuki: Phwaaah, I'm so full, and so happy. Now that I'm full, I've gotten kind of sleepy. The evening salt breeze feels nice and listening to sound of waves is kind of... zzzz

Joker: Oh, Yuki-kun is asleep. Such a cute sleeping face. He's so cute, I want to carry him back like this★

Tomo: What's cute about him drooling and half smiling? That Yuki, he's dreaming about eating something for sure.

Sonoda: He worked hard, so let him sleep for a while. We also have preparations to make.

Sakaki: Anyway, someone carry him to where he won't get swept away by the tide.

Yagami: Geez, can't be helped. Hey, Chiba. You get his legs. ... Whoops, he's heavier than he looks, isn't he?

Chiba: You're just carrying him wrong. Give him here. You'd be likely to drop him on his head.

Kuya: No, no, Chiba-sempai. Leave this to me! Carrying Yuki alone will be a piece of cake! ... Why aren't you moving away?

Arata: Both of you, if you keep talking like that, Ace-kun will wake up.

Takato: Good grief. You should both carry him. Look, there's a bench in the shade right over there, so please let him sleep there.

Chiba: ... Alright. Don't drop him, Sagimori.

Kuya: Of course. Then, try not to shake him....

~~~

Yuki: Hm...? Ah! Shoot! Did I fall asleep? And it's already pitch black outside!!

Chiba: Asahina Yuki, happy birthday!

Kuya: Happy birthday, Yuki!

Takato: Asahina, happy birthday.

Joker: Ace-kun, s dnyom rozhdeniya!! (happy birthday in Russian)

Sonoda: Yuki-kun, happy birthday!

Arata: Happy birthday, Yuki.

Tomo: Yuki, happy birthday!

Yagami: Happy birthday.

Sakaki: Asahina, happy birthday.

Yuki: Huh? What?

Joker: Well then, let's have it★

Yuki: youtu.be/E0cd_8sjg6Y (fireworks)

Yuki: Uwaaah! It's skyrockets! Pretty!

Kuya: It's a birthday present from us to you!

Yuki: Oh, but the skyrockets are going really high...

Sonoda: So, that's why everyone worked hard all day to earn the money to buy the skyrockets with the sales at the beach house. It was perfect that the beach house was short on help.

Takato: The skyrockets were Joker's idea, but it wasn't a bad plan, so we all went along with it.

Yuki: Oh, so that's why even people who wouldn't normally participate came to work too.

Tomo: Yeah, I guess. I was a bit impatient for you to suspect.

Yagami: I didn't have any money on hand. If not, a touristy beach like this......

Arata: But the ocean was fun. I'm glad we celebrated Yuki's birthday here.

Chiba: Yeah. ... How was it, Asahina? Did you like it?

Yuki: Of course! I really had a lot of fun today. And the fireworks were beautiful.

Sakaki: The fee for arranging for a pyrotechnician and the launch was funded by my meager salary. Be grateful.

Joker: Actually I wanted even more impressive fireworks that would spell out a birthday message for you in the night sky, but it was over budget. But they were plenty pretty.

Yuki: Yes! I'll never forget it for the rest of my life. It was a wonderful birthday!!

Yuki: Kuya-san, Takato-san, Joker-san, Sonoda-san, Chiba-san, Arata-san, Tomo, Yagami, Professor Sakaki, thank you! And thank you everyone celebrating on Twitter!!