#like usually the first thing he's described as IS being prickly or having an attitude ect ect.

[moe-broey]

Oooouhghghgh Takumi being described as introverted and sensitive 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

[xmimiteh]

14 Associations: X'mimiteh Lhim

Animal: Chocobo! That is not really a question, right? As much as she might claim to hate them, she adores them. That cheerful kweh is just the best contrast to her grumpy attitude. Not only that, she loves to ride them as they are fast and the speed, the rush of wind, the freedom - she enjoys it way too much.

Color: Black. Plain and boring. It is the color she usually wears and it is nothing to stand out too much in the crowd.

Song: The song I mostly associate with her at the moment, because that is describing her story themes mostly right now: "Fight Song" by Rachel Platten. If there was a tv show about Mimi this might be the current opening. Every line of the lyrics fits, it is uncanny! Like a small boat on the ocean Sending big waves into motion Like how a single word can make a heart open I might only have one match But I can make an explosion And all those things I didn't say Wrecking balls inside my brain I will scream them out tonight Can you hear my voice this time? This is my fight song! Take back my life song! Proof I'm alright song! My power's turned on, right now I'll be strong I'll play my fight song And I don't really care, if nobody else believes Cause I've still got a lot of fight left in me!

Number: She does not care about numbers. She might be superstitious, but not in this regard.

Day or Night: Mimi is a Seeker of the Sun. Obviously a sunny day! Always.

Plant: Cactuar. Prickly and resilient like herself.

Smell: Chocobo, smoking herbs, coffee and light-scented perfume (to cover the chocobo smell at least a bit).

Gemstone: Rough diamond. Surely nothing refined or cut.

Season: Summer. Nothing better for a desert Miqo'te than the burning sands.

Place: Desert. She is a Sagolii Miqo'te after all!

Food: Spicy sweets. Mimi does enjoy sweets, but not when they are simply sweets. There needs to be a trick to it. Bitter coffee, alcohol, salt, pepper or something like that.

Eorzean Deity: Nald'thal. Azeyma would probably be the first association, but I like to think one step ahead for Mimi here. Because Nald'thal is also fire aspected, patron deity of Ul'dah and with his two-sided life/death theme it fits her. So it is indeed the duality of Nald'thal and not like he is worshipped in Ul'dah often separately. Due to the duality it probably might fit Mimi's own duality as well - being a tsun'dere.

Eorzean Element(s): Fire. She simply burns with emotions.

Drink: Coffee liquor. I might be a bit biased on this, because I simply love that myself. But I think it fits perfectly as a Thanalan beverage.

Tagged by: @archaiclumina @luck-and-larceny @cactusxwren - Thanks for tagging me!

Tagging: Sorry, if anyone of the following already did that. I quickly lose overview of who did it and who not. But I would rather tag someone twice than somebody feeling left out. @fair-fae​ @avwalya​ @punchelf @lady-lissette @ysandrethedreamer, @kich-rp @candlelethe​ @ink-dreams-ffxiv @limitsbroke @captainkurosolaire​ @zhauric @arasnealashandr @miqojak @antlers-and-omens @vulpes-ferus @starforger @miqoquest @gatheredfates @arbiterofthedead @reconditerune @airis-ray @ahlis-xiv @uldahstreetrat @blackbirdffxiv @riftdancing @little-birdseeker @azure-seadragon @thorstyr @angelinecarax @miqomonkly @shavri-ffxiv - and everyone who has not done it! You know the drill probably. Simply do it, tag me, so I can read it as well. Looking forward to it!

[aces-of-the-center-court]

hello dear anon, when this request came, I was already in the process of writing for the setters (Kageyama, Kenma & Oikawa) for this particular prompt as well, so I have decided to just combine all five into one! I hope this is ok, thank you so much for requesting! :)

warning: long post ahead.

Sakusa Kiyoomi:

When hanging around him and Komori, it would mostly just be you and Komori talking

He would find you strangely intriguing at first because of how similar you were to him in the sense that you both despise germs, but he would still be closed off in the beginning

Gradually as the two of you get closer, he would slowly initiate conversations with you in spite of how useless, unnecessary or unimportant it is

“Where’s Komori?”, “Have you eaten?”, or “Good morning.” – Alrighhht perhaps not too useless but the conversations usually end after your response unless you decide to follow up

When it’s just him and Komori, he would sometimes ask where you were and if you were coming despite it being volleyball practice (which means you would not be around by then)

Yes, to be honest, he would have realised his feelings for you even without Komori pointing out for the 937820th time and jokingly teasing him

He would handle his feelings for you quite well and not act any differently from before – he would listen when you’re speaking, sometimes ask questions or even insert some prickly input before being cut off by Komori

Would not show his feelings for you and would likely take a while to consider asking you out

Each time he sees you, the words he wants to tell you – his confession – would be raging to come out of his mouth so badly he’d lose count of how many times he had stopped himself

Likely to bluntly confess his feelings for you out of a blue, even if you’re not alone with him, be it the classroom, during lunch with other classmates around etc.

I really like you… he would think, “I really like you” he would let out on accident

When those words came out of his mouth, he would be visibly surprised and stiffen up, hoping you did not just hear that

You would have obviously heard it, no matter how noisy the class is, and would recognise that voice anywhere – with or without mask

Sharing the look of surprise on your faces, when you look at him, his eyes would widen and he would flush pink to his ears

Your face would also redden when you noticed his change in demeanor.

Miya Atsumu:

This boy is sure experienced in handling his fangirls, but not so much his rival

Surrounded with fangirls that would unconditionally validate whatever he says, he’s never met someone so insistent in trying to prove him wrong until he met you

You two would constantly battle one another in wits until one of you out-argue the other

Though the battle results have been pretty even thus far, frustration from being proven wrong on multiple occasions would accumulate in him

He’d find himself thinking back on some of the debates and think of some comebacks he should’ve used, then mentally prepares for the next dispute

He’d slowly find the disputes fun and enjoy spending time squabbling with you

Though he’d hate to admit at first, he would know that he’s starting to look forward to the next time he sees you

Would find you more and more amusing the more he learns about you through bickering

He’d realise that he’d want to know more about you – is there more to you than a rival he constantly bickers with?

“You know, I’ve been thinking. It seems that we got off the wrong foot,” he’d say during the next encounter with you before the squabbles start, “how about we start over and get to know each other better instead? Who knows? We could be more than rivals.”

“And risk getting trampled on by your fangirls? Yeah I’ll pass.” You would refute by habit

BUT. THIS. BOY!! Even if you had rejected him 100 times, he would ask you out 101 times

Even if you treat him coldly and ignore him, he would persistently try to get closer to you

Gradually, he would make it quite obvious that he has feelings for you

Would casually tell you multiple times that he likes you though you would just ignore him

He would also continuously act sweet and flirtatious towards you and sometimes even sly to make sure he gets to spend some time with you

If he were to get disturbed when you two are alone, he would be very upset – very, very, annoyed and pissed

And if ever, his fangirls do go threatening or intimidating you, he would be the first to know and immediately send those flies away

You would also progressively start to find him amusing in his stubborn ways and would decide to indulge in him more frequently

Atsumu would have definitely picked up on this and for the 102th time, he would ask you out  ⁠— this time, he may not just be left disappointed with your answer.

Oikawa Tooru:

This man here is very experienced and thus would easily realise his feelings for you early on

He would just be outrightly flirting with you, like he does with many

The difference is that he would find himself naturally gravitating to you and possessing this feeling of wanting to talk and be with you

It might be because he finds you easier to talk to since you understand him well underneath his flirtatious and easygoing front

His flirtatious remarks would hold more meaning and truth to his feelings when it’s meant for you than for others

Would flirt a lot more when with you compared to others

Even among the crowd that he’s flirting with, he would make the most eye contact with you

Due to his flamboyant attitude though, despite sometimes playing along with his flirting, you would not take his advances seriously obviously

He would realise so and decide to start being more serious in pursuing you

While flirting as usual, he would casually add in comments like “You’re the only one for me~” to which you would wittily retort, “Yeah right, how many ‘only ones’ do you have?”

“I’m serious.” He would say in a deep voice, free from his usual flirty tone as he locks eyes with you

He would want to make sure you’re aware of his feelings for you so that you would start seeing him in a different light

To show the sincerity in his confession, he would stop his flirting altogether and would only focus his attention on you

When you notice the changes in him and his flirting, you would start to take him more seriously

He would take his time before conveying his renewed confession to just have some quality time together with you genuinely

He would be very straightforward when confessing his feelings for you though it would be out of the blue, perhaps when you’re walking home with him and just chatting casually, he would declare his feelings there and then.

Kozume Kenma:

Other than his games, Shouyou and volleyball, Kenma was starting to have you on his mind more than he would like to admit

Whenever you’re with him, he would feel his heart throbbing and would be very conscious of it, causing him to stiffen up especially when in close proximity with you

As he’s unfamiliar with these types of situations, he would not know what to do and may act awkwardly around you as a result

He would think to himself that this is not the type of situation or position he should be in due to his self-consciousness and how it disrupts his rhythm

It’s tiring to keep feeling like this… maybe I should just put these feelings away… He would decide to try to brush off these feelings of his

Despite that however, he would find that his eyes unconsciously drift to you whenever you’re around

He would also start to talk more about you or bring you up in conversations e.g. “y/n seemed a little tired today, I wonder what’s wrong…”

Kuroo would have quite instantly notice the change in Kenma and tease him, asking why he’s so concerned about you lately and if he likes you

He would be a little annoyed at Kuroo and put off his comments, saying that he’s just worried for you as a friend

Although he wouldn’t admit it at first, he would later realise after contemplating Kuroo’s remarks that he does seem to have feelings for you

Subsequently, he would try to have more contacts with you by initiating interactions

Would express his feelings in his own way, that is, in game – giving you special limited edition items to help you win and level up for example

If he senses some competition (e.g. someone flirting with you) he would feel annoyed, but would not express it and would just be quieter than usual

At this point, it’s safe to say that most of the team would have realised what this new change in Kenma means

With Yamamoto trying to exert his seniority in his experience with unrequited love, he would try to give him advice on how to ask you out etc while Yaku would tell him with a warm motherly smile and happy tears in his eyes that he can come to him if he needs help

Basically, the team would be very supportive (while teasing him occasionally) which would annoy Kenma a whole lot to be honest

It would take him a lot to actually confess to you but when he does, it would be when you two are alone, probably in a space he’s comfortable, and tell you his feelings forthrightly.

Kageyama Tobio:

Whenever you’re around, he would feel himself heating up

In class or during volleyball practices, he would constantly be distracted with trying to figure out what he’s feeling or with thoughts of you

If possible, he would wish to put these feelings to an end so he could focus on volleyball, but things have been this way for months now

After a long contemplation, he would finally decide to seek Sugawara’s advice but face much trouble describing his feelings and end up replacing words with “bah” and “gwah” instead

Despite the initial difficulty faced while trying to understand Kageyama, Sugawara would shortly come to an understanding and explain that what Kageyama is experiencing is a crush he has on you while slightly teasing him and tousling his hair saying how he has grown

Though he would still be confused after hearing it and unable to comprehend his feelings, he would try his best to act as normal as possible around you – not without failing completely

He would be very conscious of your presence and start acting weirder unintentionally

Concerned, you would confront him to clarify if you’re making him uncomfortable

“No, not at all! That’s not the case! It’s never been!” He would insistently deny in an awkward manner, leaving you to heave a huge sigh of relief (even though you would still feel that something is amiss), and you would return to your usual smile

At the sight of your smile, he would start getting flustered all over again

What… why is my heart palpitating even when I’m not engaging in any physical activity? It was at this moment that he would finally understand that he does, in fact, likes you

After this realisation, he would always be a little restless around you

He would also quite often offer you his packet of yoghurt or milk and share the food he has on him, but would yell at Hinata if he tries to steal a piece

When he gradually feels comfortable enough to confide in you, he would bluntly confess in a descriptive manner

“My face feels hot and my heart races when I see you or think about you, which I can’t help but always do by the way. I don’t know what I should do…”

Basically, he would describe the way he feels for you in an attempt to seek help from you about this foreign emotion

[toloveawarlord]

Ch. 2

Characters: Elaine, Arthur x Theo, Vincent

Pairing: Elaine x Isaac (eventually)

Tagging: @plumpblueberry​ @lady-moonbroch​

A/N: This chapter turned out nothing like the first draft XD Enjoy some Elaine spending time with her Uncle and she meets a boy!

Four days into her new job as Theo’s assistant, the mood in their home had drastically lifted. Elaine never complained and paid close attention to every task given to her, exceeding all expectations. She quoted things he’d said to her years ago and questioned smartly, craving the knowledge he had. Having her along had proved quite useful with prickly clients, smoothing over situations with a charming smile and sweet words, likely emulating Arthur. 

Theo enjoyed having time with her. In recent years, they’d grown strained. The teenager wanted more freedom and broke rules in place to protect her because she believed them unnecessary. Now, at nearly eighteen in only two days, she’d fought harder. Being able to keep an eye on her put the art dealer at little more at ease.

His daughter sat across from him, glancing at him out of the corner of her vision. Elaine hadn’t taken the news that she couldn’t accompany him today well. Instead of anger, she’d pouted silently all morning.

“I take it that you aren’t happy with today’s agenda,” Arthur piped up with an amused grin not quite hidden by his cup of steaming coffee. The previous night Theo had informed him of the impending unhappy teenager.

Elaine stuffed the fork full of pancakes into her mouth, enough to make her cheeks puff out to match her frown. She’d gotten up extra early and made pancakes and extra sweet coffee, but the answer remained unchanged. Now, she wanted to drown her sorrows in syrup and butter until she got sick.

“Vincent has asked for you to help him today while I’m gone.” Theo could easily see the motive behind his brother’s sudden request. He’d promised to make her do some work instead of spoiling her the entire day.

The teenager flinched at those words. She couldn’t very well turn down her uncle, as she adored him so much. Help isn’t the word she’d choose to describe what the day would entail. He’d likely ask her to do a small task or two, nothing that required much effort. “Fine. I guess I can do that.”

Working didn’t bother her. She assisted around the house with the chores without complaint. If Comte asked, she would readily agree. It irritated her that this client wouldn’t allow her entrance to his home, prompting this sour mood. No promises of being quiet or staying outside had swayed Theo. He couldn’t risk spooking the man.

“If you find yourself in need of something to do, I can have you proofread for me.” Her grimace only made the mystery writer chuckle again. Her disdain for that job well-known. Though she enjoyed his stories, playing editor didn’t appeal to her. A tedious thing.

Theo cracked a grin, rising from the table. “You better thank Vincent for saving you from that.” One check of his watch ended the conversation. He bid his family farewell before heading into town alone.

“Are you sure you don’t want to help your Papa with his work?” Arthur teased further. He had been a tad jealous that she eagerly wanted to assist Theo over the course of the week. Ah, but he was also grateful that the two were more understanding of each other.

Elaine stacked all the empty plates to carry them to the kitchen. “I love you but no.” Her curt reply still amusing. Setting the dishes in the sink, she licked the sticky syrup off her fingers.

“Off you go then. I’ll take care of the cleanup.”

The young vampire didn’t need to be told twice. Housework didn’t appeal to her either. She did her part, pitching in when needed, but if told she didn’t have to do it... the teenager bailed as quickly as she could.

Inside the mansion, the hallways were quiet and empty.  At this hour, everyone should be awake, except for Leonardo perhaps. Rapping her fist against Vincent’s door, she cast confused glances down the hallway.

“Goede morgen, Elaine,” Vincent greeted with a bright smile. He laughed softly at her confusion. Since Arthur and Theo had moved out of the mansion with her when she was only 4 years old, daily happenings didn’t reach their house as quickly as it spread through the mansion. “We’re the only ones here today.”

“I’m okay with that.” She flashed a disheartened smile, unable to shake the dark cloud hanging over her. Her normally mischievous and lively attitude disappeared. The others might have tried to make her understand. She understood perfectly fine.

That didn’t make it less saddening.

“Come here.” He’d barely open his arms and invited his niece to find comfort with him when the teenager stepped forward and accepted the warm hug. Vincent stroked his fingers through her copper hair. He wouldn’t say it out loud, but she reminded him so much of Theo when he was a child. “You know, he couldn’t stop talking about how wonderful you were on the job.”

“Really?”

It wasn’t that he hadn’t said so to her. Theo would give praise often, especially when she came up with new ideas. Telling the others about it, that was rarer.

Vincent hummed in response, a gentle smile on his lips as she peeked up at him. “I’d say he was outright bragging. I’m not surprised. You’re his daughter after all.” Placing a kiss on the top of her head, he laughed softly at her uplifted mood.

Elaine lingered a little longer before releasing him, soaking up his sunshine-like warmth. “I guess I could stop pouting about it.” Relenting her sad feelings, she sighed softly before questioning. “So, what was it you wanted my help with?”

“I finished the final painting and I thought I’d ask for your expert advice on where to put it in the gallery space. That is, if you want to.” His request was well-received with a glowing smile from his niece. Theo had mentioned that he’d given her the sole responsibility of choosing how to use the space to best showcase the art. The uncle looked forward to seeing what she’d done.

***********

The paintings on the wall were shrouded in black cloth, to hide the precious items from view until the day of the showing. Only a select few knew what was beneath, ones trusted by Theo to make this a success. Elaine had been gifted one of the only keys to venue, a testament to her importance.

“I believe I’m looking forward to this event more than any other,” Vincent commented, allowing the staff to hang the framed piece in its designated spot.

The heat in her cheeks caused the teenager to turn her gaze anywhere else. “It’s not much different from how Vader does it. I’ve been to more of these than any other event in the city.” The location changed but ever since she learned to walk, she’d been toddling around, observing, and learning how it works. Before she’d even realized, she’d begun understanding color theory and composition.

“It wasn’t too long ago that you were only a few years old and correcting patrons on the medium or style of the art. You always had this incredibly serious expression, much like Theo.”

“That was so long ago! I’m almost eighteen!”

Vincent chuckled with a loving smile. “Yes, I guess that’s right.”

The chime of the door timed perfectly with one of the staff calling to speak with Vincent. Elaine stepped away to investigate the newcomer. Violet eyes narrowed at the sight of a boy, likely no older than herself, attempting to take a peek at the portrait veiled by the black cloth. “Excuse me, but you can’t be in here.” Her tone less than polite, Elaine thrust her palms against his chest to push him away from the art piece.

“Oh, my apologies. I’ve been most curious about why there are staff entering but it’s never been open for business.” His emerald eyes filled with hidden intent that didn’t quite match the half smirk on his lips. The boy never resisted her pushing him back to the door and onto the street. “A secretive operation, I presume, miss?”

“Elaine and we don’t open for another two days.”

Her biggest fear was that he was a spy for le academia and all of her father’s hard work would go to waste if they were discovered. He didn’t fit the typical appearance of a high bred family, usually scrawny and uptight, and he wasn’t either of those things.

“I’ll have to pop in when you are open. My name is Leon Autry.” He flashed another brilliantly smug smile and winked. “Might I inquire your surname, should I have any future questions?” The reason lost on the recipient. He’d yet to ask anything relevant to the gallery.

Elaine turned on her heel to return inside. “It’s Doyle.” Even though she didn’t quite like the boy, she couldn’t risk turning away a potential buyer. Her cheeks were warm, and it wasn’t clear if it was from embarrassment or anger. The young pureblood didn’t have many friends her age, and that led to a bit of awkwardness when around humans her age.

“Ah, like the writer.”

The girl stilled, hand hovering above the door handle. Perhaps she’d heard him incorrectly.

“You might not know of him. He’s a British writer, mystery, I think.”

Or perhaps not.

“I believe it’s Arthur Conan Doyle. Any relation?” Leon asked as if he already knew the answer, like playing a game of truth or dare in order reveal a secret for confirmation.

Elaine relaxed her shoulders. Although she could hardly admit that she was indeed was the daughter of that very Arthur, albeit the vampire one, she wouldn’t allow him to glean that precious information from her. “No, but you aren’t the first to ask. But wouldn’t that be grand? Imagine being related to someone as talented as that.” Her dreamy smile fowled his for a moment.

“Imagine.” The façade of his grin had ghosted away for a split second, but it didn’t go unnoticed.

“Elaine, are you ready to head back?” A third party interrupted, much welcomed by the girl. Vincent approached the two, protectively a half step in front of his niece. The tension between the two children enough to worry him.

Her head bobbed once in response. “Yes, let’s go home.” The way Leon’s eyes followed her unsettled the girl. Elaine settled back on the seat in the carriage, mulling over the strange interaction. Was it so unusual for someone to draw a connection between her name and the human Arthur from this era?

Whatever the case, she now had a proper mystery on her hands.

[intensitystoner]

Adjective challenge 8 – Laughable Sifki

“And you thought I was in the bath,” Loki concluded the lengthy explanation.

“Yes. Yes, that’s what I thought, exactly,” the Warmaiden hurried to agree.

“Annnd so you entered because…?”

“Uh,” her look darted around for a moment before she perked up. “Because of the bilgesnipe, of course, why else would I… barge in on your… recluse?”

“Ah, yes, the bilgesnipe.”

“The bilgesnipe noises, to be exact. Because there was no bilgesnipe here, as you have already found out. Now, if you’d be so kind and release this spell…”

Loki, however, frowned and leaned to the counter in apparent brooding.

“Sif, I made up the bilgesnipe myself, when we were, what, four hundred?”

(It had been great fun ever since: his tales escalated successfully, and up to this day, everyone claimed to have encountered the non-existent creature that was only visible to people of sufficient intelligence.)

“Y-you did? Alas! Then what could have made the noise?” Sif wondered vehemently.

“I’m sure we’ll find out eventually. What concerns me more, however, is why you’re holding onto my shampoo so insistently.”

“Because you haven’t released the binding spell yet,” she pressed through a clenched jaw with forcible lightness in her tone. She was sitting on the sill of the tub, her hand glued to the violet bottle.

“Oh, right,” he snapped his fingers in realisation. “This brilliant little spell woven to keep thieves in place until they’re caught in the act.”

“I assure, you, Loki, it was but an accident…” she faltered to give room for the sorcerer to interject with his doubt; however, he waited patiently for the continuation, eyebrows arching curiously.

Sif sighed then and tried for some pity.

“My arm is starting to ache. Won’t you please release me so we can settle this in a proper manner?”

Loki shook his head with the required sympathy on his face.

“Not until you spill the truth.”

Head bent down, she kept her lips sealed tight for a minute before she spoke.

“I needed the scent. Happy?”

“The scent? Of my hair?”

“Yes! Can I go now?”

“No, no, tell me more,” Loki requested settling back against the counter while his hand absently brushed through the bottom of his short locks.

“There is no more to tell! How can you be this cruel?”

“I’m cruel? Sif, someone has been sneaking into my chambers. For months, I’ve been fearing for my life.” He was clearly overdramatising but enjoyed every moment of it.

“That’s not possible, there were no signs lef- How did you find that out?” she asked desperately over her blunder.

He laughed into her face.

“How? From the signs that klutz has left, obviously. The things that wandered out of here. The book from which I’ve read to you? The dagger I’ve used to get us the high-growing fruits on the last journey? The bag of cashews we pilfered together? The rein you tore while attempting to drive me to my demise?”

“I was saving your life!”

“In any case, there is only one thing in common among these items.”

“Yes, they’re all yours, it’s crazy, now let me go.”

“They hold memories of us both,” he corrected. “I really have no idea what that indicates, however. Especially with the shampoo as the last puzzle piece: that one is all me. For your information, it’s my personal brew, you won’t get it on anyone else.”

She could have exploded under his (fake, fake) expectant look.

“Think whatever you think, I don’t care a wee bit,” she announced, causing him to throw up his arms with a perplexed smile.

“I don’t even know what to think. As I said, I’m clueless. I’m waiting for you to clear it all up at last.”

“All right, fine, I deserve it,” she gave in, her voice wavering in embarrassment as she strived to keep it annoyed. “I’m here because you mean more to me than it’s safe to admit to Your Prickliness. I enjoy our times together, and it’s an efficient way to prolong them a bit by holding those items with me for a while. But you keep all these things to yourself, so this is the only option I have.”

The prince stared at her frowning for a long while, longer than she felt it comfortable.

“Prove it,” he demanded then sternly.

“Isn’t this much humiliation enough?” she snapped.

“It’s all words. It could be a cleverly forged lie to get you out of trouble, for all I know.”

Her cheeks flushed but she kept a straight face, her voice a tad milder.

“I could as well try, but how can I do that from here?”

“Try words, then,” his palm waved at the evidence of the matter.

“Words?” she said in dismay. “You know it’s not my forte. Is it why you torment me with it? I just wanted to indulge in you a little more without pushing myself onto you, that’s all. Big deal, not the greatest in the history of sins. But you guard these worthless objects like a mother bear her cubs.”

Wrinkles of utter bafflement appeared on the bridge of his nose while he stirred.

“Why do you assume I keep them?” he inquired, and he cut into her brooding silence right away. “Who needs a torn rein? The book’s return date to the library was long due by then. A bag of nuts doesn’t usually last that long. So tell me, to what conclusion did you arrive when you wondered about that?”

Her fluttering gaze clearly indicated she never got this far in her thinking.

“Why would I be so protective of such bric-à-brac?” he prompted her on.

“Because you’re a hoarder?” she guessed carefully.

“Because they’re precious to me,” he explained with a wide hand gesture ending up at his heart. “Those memories are as fond to me as they are to you.”

With an urging nod, he waited for light to reach the maiden’s mind at last. In fact, it had happened a while ago, shown by the flush slowly spreading on her cheekbones, but he could not be sure when, or if, she was willing to admit it.

“Well,” she breathed now, her look on the ground. “I guess then this matter is resolved, isn’t it?”

“It seems so,” he smiled, and Sif mirrored it.

“This is quite a day to remember,” she noted. “I’d say I hope this tale won’t be on everyone’s lips by the time I make it out of your bathroom, but, well, this is you…”

His gaze followed her free hand’s dismissing wave that accompanied her forced chuckle, and then it rested up on her face.

“It is me,” he agreed, but there was no malice in his tone. “As for your release, dear, beautiful, gallant Sif, it is bound to one condition.”

The flush on her cheeks reached its depth just now.

“What is it then?” she asked quietly.

Then the sorcerer’s face dropped all sweetness.

“An apology,” he claimed.

The maiden frowned at the sudden change, but after a breath, she decided to drop her futile defence, and she sighed.

“All right, I’m sorry. I should have asked you for these items. I just feared I’d be a deliberate target of your mockery. That part is rightful, isn’t it?”

“No, no,” Loki stopped her with a palm raised but frowning before himself in search for the right wording. His hand gestures preceded his explanation. “You’ve been scorning at me in public since I can remember. You’re no different from the rest, you follow the trending attitude: let’s hate the vile trickster for his misdeeds.”

“That is not true. When have I ever attacked you without you triggering it purposefully?”

“Watching in silence is all the same, Lady Sif.”

“Did you not deserve it when the ones harmed by you took their revenge? What could I have said in your defence?”

He shook his head morosely, lips stubbornly holding the grudge.

“I demand a public apology for your attitude,” he insisted.

“Loki, I’ve held you my friend since the beginning. It isn’t possible to count how many times you helped me up on my path to greatness. But I can’t apologise for letting justice have its way.”

“Very well, then you shall remain here to indulge in my sole company for the rest of our lives.”

“Indulging would be a strong word for the hate you’d grow in me.”

“You won’t remember to hate me,” he answered lightly like he’d been sharing the most obvious fact. “The spell I cast on you will wipe your mind each day. You’ll love how it tackles the problems you’ve described: your remaining purpose in life will be me and only me.”

“You wouldn’t,” she hurried to reassure herself.

“And why not?” He seemed genuinely curious.

“If you feel for me to the depths you claim to, you’ll never leave me in such demise.”

“You think very little of my greed.”

“No, you’re the one who thinks little of people. You think they hold you for a devil, so you behave like one purposefully to mock their narrow view. But you’re gracious and warm towards the ones who actively seek your company, and it betrays your chosen masks. It is the worth in you that not many care to see, and the one that has enthralled me from the start,” the maiden admitted coyly.

His timid smile was all that answered, and to escape further debates of the matter, he reached for the maiden’s captive hand. To her relief, the bottle let go of her as he held her fingers. She stood up smiling into the teal eyes that mirrored the warmth in her heart.

Her expression faded slowly as she realised her hand wouldn’t move from his oh-so-light hold.

“Just until you fulfil your part of our agreement,” he reassured her, and with a smile that told about all being fine, he led her out of his chambers.

“Which we did not arrive to,” she stated.

“We’ll see, my dear. We’ll see.”

“Where are you taking me?” Sif craved to know as they strode on the corridor hand in hand.

“The guards, to report on your thieving tendencies,” Loki answered merrily. “Or our friends so you can announce my worthiness of your affections. Whichever we run into first.”

Neither would do for the Warmaiden, naturally. Thus, she jerked her captor into the next alcove they passed, pinning him to the wall with her own body, their breaths grazing each other above her restraining arm.

“I wish you would reconsider. There are countless other ways I’d be willing to appease you, yet you concern with something as meaningless as others’ envy.”

“I don’t even know any more why I insisted,” Loki admitted huskily.

He welcomed the kiss induced by the maiden, smiling into it triumphantly as the faint noise of an approaching group hit his ears.

[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.

[whatwewrotepodcast]

Character Profile - Ithuriel

Basic Statistics  

Name: Ithuriel Age: 6 months or eternity, depends how you look at it Nationality: Currently American, formally Divine Socioeconomic Level as a child: N/A Socioeconomic Level as an adult: Low Hometown: Heaven Current Residence: Brooklyn, New York Occupation: Enforcer for Raif Income: N/A Talents/Skills: Proficient with a range of hand guns, good aim, also competent in hand-to-hand fighting, and the use of a spear in both ranged and hand-to-hand combat.   Salary: N/A Birth order: 3rd of 7 Siblings (describe relationship): Technically the other 6 Arc Angels are his brothers and sisters. Previously a good relationship with most of them, though he was closest to Gabriel, Amitiel and Raphael, however his relationship with Gabriel suffered after his fall.   Spouse (describe relationship): N/A Children (describe relationship): N/A Grandparents (describe relationship): N/A Grandchildren (describe relationship): N/A Significant Others (describe relationship): N/A at commencement of TSC Relationship skills: Ithuriel’s relationship skills are not the best. He has a tendency to be prickly and overreactive, and often blows things out of proportion. He can be shy and reserved and hard to get to know. He makes up for these deficits by being a genuinely kind, warm person who never intends to hurt anyone, and generally feels guilty when his actions adversely affect those he cares about.  

More beneath the cut

Physical Characteristics:  Height: 6’2” Weight: 110kg Race: Caucasian   Eye Colour: Golden Hair Colour: Dirty/Dark blonde Glasses or contact lenses? No Skin colour: Fair, but with a bit of a golden hint, tans easily Shape of Face: Sharp, strong jawline, high cheekbones, long, straight nose. Overall impression of hard, clean lines, very little softness.   Distinguishing features: Two large, nasty scars down his back, from shoulders to hips. A pair of stylised Angel wings tattooed on the inside of his left wrist and a tattoo of an ornate spearhead on the inside of his right forearm.   How does he/she dress? Jeans, usually fairly loose cut, blue. Black or grey long-sleeved shirts or t-shirts. Black trench coat, military style boots, a scarf if it’s cold. Always muted tones though, never wears colour, always black/white/grey.   Mannerisms: Often runs his fingers through his hair when he’s troubled. Pinches the bridge of his nose when he’s thinking hard or when things are driving him to frustration.   Habits: (smoking, drinking etc.) Has a fondness for chocolate, but nothing that really counts as a habit per se.   Health: About as good as can be. More than human. Doesn’t suffer from most human illnesses or diseases, has improved healing from injury and is able to survive with less food, water and rest than the average human.   Hobbies: Currently doesn’t really have hobbies, though he does like to people watch. Favourite Sayings: N/A Speech patterns: Tends towards overly formal language, doesn’t use a lot of contractions, does have a New York accent but it’s towards the more upper class end of the scale, and sometimes veers into a very generic, hard to locate sort of American accent.   Disabilities: N/A   Style (Elegant, shabby etc.): Professionally broody chic. Tends towards the shabby side though.   Greatest flaw: His short temper. He had a propensity to explode over minor issues, has a very short fuse, and often says things in fits of anger that he later regrets.   Best quality: A genuine kindness and love for humanity.   Intellectual/Mental/Personality Attributes and Attitudes  Educational Background: None Intelligence Level: Technically very high – he’s an Angel and so has divine intelligence, but his lack of experience in the world means most of the time that intelligence is of very little use to him as it hasn’t got anything to back it up.   Any Mental Illnesses? Technically no, though it could be argued he has a bit of PTSD about his Fall.   Learning Experiences: Everything is a learning experience for Ith. He’s been living on earth for just over 6 months and so everything, from learning how to safely cross the road to making toast are learning experiences of him.   Character's short-term goals in life: Work off his debt to Raif and be able to live his life free of debt and restrictions.   Character's long-term goals in life: Get back to Heaven.   How does Character see himself/herself? Ithuriel has a pretty complicated relationship with himself. On the one hand, he’s quite proud. He was an arc, and as such had quite a high opinion of himself. He was very powerful, there were few who could tell him what to do or how to do it. He was convinced of his own righteousness. However, since his Fall, his sense of worth took a bit of a hit. He still sees himself as ‘better’ than most humans, more moral, more ethical, but he also fell, and that took some of the wind out of his sails. He is now conflicted about who he is and what his existence means, and where he stands in the world.   How does Character believe he/she is perceived by others? Ithuriel doesn’t think much of how other people see him, especially at the start of the story. He doesn’t think much about other people’s internal worlds. However, as he develops, he does start to worry that people think of him as a bit stuffy, a bit uncool, and a bit overly righteous.   How self-confident is the character? Initially very, but he lost a lot of faith in himself and his ability to make the right decisions when he Fell.   Does the character seem ruled by emotion or logic or some combination thereof? Definitely ruled by emotion – probably one of his greatest flaws is letting his feelings get in the way of making the sensible, logical decision.   What would most embarrass this character? Any reference towards sexuality or sexual activity, especially towards the start of the story.   Emotional Characteristics Introvert or Extrovert? Introvert How does the character deal with anger? Very, very badly. Mostly by letting it explode all over the place. He has a short fuse.   With sadness? He lets himself feel it, but only within himself. He doesn’t tend towards being demonstrative about his emotions.   With conflict? Again, not well. He tends to shout first and think later.   With change? He’s gone through a lot of changes recently and considering the magnitude of them, he coped remarkably well. That said, he did struggle a lot with readjusting to his new role in life.   With loss? By suppressing it until it bursts out of him in explosions of jealousy towards those who have that which he has lost.   What does the character want out of life? At the moment, he’s just trying to do with best with what he has.   What would the character like to change in his/her life? He would go back to Heaven and get his wings back.   What motivates this character? Partially the desire to get back to Heaven, though he rarely admits it to himself. Mostly a deeply in-ground sense of what is right and what is wrong and the desire to correct the wrongs and do the right thing.   What frightens this character? The idea of dying alone, in a strange world, and going to Hell. The thought of becoming corrupted and evil and losing the parts of him he sees as ‘good’.   What makes this character happy? Simple things such as chocolate, watching people who are happy, the feeling that he has made the right decisions, Merry.   Is the character judgmental of others? Oh boy yes. Incredibly judgemental, though often he feels a bit bad about his original impressions once he gets to know people.   Is the character generous or stingy? Generous.   Is the character generally polite or rude? He likes to think he’s polite, but often he can be a bit rude, in part because he doesn’t understand social cues very well and in part because he’s just a bit brusque and too self important to worry about the ‘niceties’.   Spiritual Characteristics Does the character believe in God? God literally created him and he knows Him personally, so yah he does.   What are the character's spiritual beliefs? He doesn’t have beliefs, he has knowledge.   Is religion or spirituality a part of this character's life? Not really, because Ith doesn’t need to ‘believe’ in things. He knows and understands the truth of the world and the Heavens so it’s not a spiritual experience for him, it’s just his reality.   If so, what role does it play? N/A How the Character is Involved in the Story  Character's role in the novel (main character? hero? heroine? Romantic interest? etc.): Hero/Romantic interest   Scene where character first appears:  

Ithuriel shifted his weight, pins and needles tingling down his legs. He sighed, a brief allowance of impatience.  He was crouching uncomfortably on the edge of a low building, his gaze fixed on the dark street below. It was nearing dawn and the streets were empty with the early morning hush. A biting breeze was whistling around the edges of the stout brick buildings, its prying fingers reaching under coats, lifting hats, and chilling blood. He turned the collar of his heavy trench coat up against the cold, but didn’t dare shift his position. In the quiet, even the slightest of sounds would carry. He’d been hunched on the exposed rooftop for hours now, and he was damned if he was going to risk startling his quarry for the sake of a moment’s release.    

Relationships with other characters: 1. Merry -- (Describe relationship with this character and changes to relationship over the course of the novel).

Ithuriel initially sees Merry as a bit of a helpless human in need of rescuing, though it doesn’t take long before he begins to see her as more of an important tool to use against Moloch. He’s bemused by her and the often flippant attitude she takes towards life. She’s the first human he’s had prolonged contact with and she forces him to re-evaluate the way in which he perceives humans and accept them as individuals rather than one sort of mass that he can judge all together. As they get to know each other better, Ithuriel starts to respect Merry’s independent nature and her bravery in the face of a world that’s much bigger than anything she ever knew before. This respect soon turns to friendship before developing into something deeper.  

2. Belial: -- (Describe relationship with this character and changes to relationship over the course of the novel).

Ithuriel’s relationship with Belial is initially antagonistic. Ithuriel fears becoming what he sees in Belial and as a result tries to push Belial to be better to assuage his own fears of losing himself without hope of return. It quickly becomes important to Ithuriel that Belial choose the right side though this is primarily a reflection of his insecurities. Belial becomes a proxy through which he tries to convince himself that he can still be saved. Over time, this attitude shifts towards a genuine desire to see Belial save himself, and an appreciation for who Belial is as a person.   How character is different at the end of the novel from when the novel began: 

Ithuriel’s arc is one of coming to accept his new existence and appreciate the grey areas that make life so interesting. He begins to see the value in people and the ways in which they can be good and worthwhile without having to adhere to a strict sense of morality. By the end, he has come to realise that humanity is worth saving because of the intrinsic value of life, and all the beauty and wonder that humanity has created.  

[cumahinut]

67, 92 and 100 :D

thank you!

67. Which character would you never want to meet in real life?

haiji towa no doubt about that, if i ever meet him i’ll report him to the police immediately

92. Least favourite Monokub?

i really don’t like any of them at all, maybe monophanie because she calls monokuma daddy and there’s incest jokes with her

100. Opinion on all the Protagonists!

okay! ill do dr1, sdr2, drae, dr0, and ndrv3 since i haven’t seen the rest of the franchise

Naegi Makoto - i actually liked him during my first watch of dr1 (when it was airing) and then dr3 destroyed him for me because of what they did about kirigiri being his trophy but after rewatching and playing the game long ago i warmed up about him, he’s refreshing in a way that even though he’s basically a type of main character that’s a projection from the viewer/player he has unique qualities that make you adore and admire him, it takes a lot to have a high fortitude and mental strength, even though he’s more emotionally proficient that physically or skilled, he’s not that wee helpless thing that needed to be saved every time or had to depend on everyone all the time, sure he depended on kirigiri for her skills but in return kirigiri relied on him for his strength that makes him a balanced character, dr3 is trash but his moment of confronting munakata (locks the door and told munakata THEY HAVE TO TALK) is such a great move and very him, he grew on me a lot during my stay in this fandom

Hinata Hajime - i love this sassy yet kind boy!! i don’t normally relate to characters and point out similarities between them and me but hinata’s problems just hit home for me, it’s so real for me and i know his struggles, but moving that aside because i’m most certainly not gonna talk about me right now i loved his development, even though it was flunky because of nanami’s involvement (they could have done it better) this guy is so ambitious and refuses to be mediocre that he sold out his own body to be a man of full of talents and lost his humanity, it’s a big leap from naegi’s chill life who just owns up his normie interests, but his character also showed that talent is not what defines you, no matter where you study, if you don’t believe in yourself. sdr2 really did bad on him with chapter 6 because it’s basically a nanami showdown for me so i prefer his development in talent development plan more

Naegi Komaru - i adore this girl a lot! she’s been through so many hardships within a week, she got thrown in a world she knows nothing about and suddenly she had to fend for her life?! i think she has the most solid and straightforward development among the protagonists, i loved her development from her struggling to survive to wanting to help other people, like that sounds common in this kind of series but it’s a feat for her because we’ve seen how terrified she is from the start, she just wanted to escape and get out, she thinks she’s just a normal girl who can’t do any greatness until she learned that even though she’s normal she counts, she found strength with touko by her side and thought she can fight all odds if it’s with touko and they can make a difference and bring change. 

Fukawa Touko - had to put her because she’s also a drae protag!! so i wasn’t really impressed with her development in dr1 but i still liked her a lot??? so i’m eternally grateful, drae as fucked up as it is wonderful, gave her a stellar development and showed us a side of her that isn’t just lusting over togami, and even gave her a moment when she chose this girl she just met over him a couple of times! the girl she initially chose to stay with because of togami who then became her very first friend and sought her inner strength and made her confident of herself, it’s just so precious!! this pair is really amazing and how they found strength by being each other’s side

Matsuda Yasuke - yes please let’s not forget dr0 is a thing and a wonderful thing it is because of him, i love him so much there’s no enough words to describe it, his story is so interesting and if i didn’t know better reading dr0 would be a different experience because of the process of unveiling him?? like the things he does behind the scenes, his relationship with junko/ryouko that is actually the only het thing i accept because it’s really not romantic in nature from his side, i really loved his line about it, she’s not a lover but she’s as important to him anyway, junko had him in shackles for since his childhood because of his need to be needed and omg i’m talking in shambles right now but yes, how his initial goal was to protect junko from herself by isolating her from her memories and then it went to attempting to killing her while in ryouko to boot to save himself, it’s a power move. also he’s one of the most accomplished students in hpa i love that about him, he’s prickly yet extremely caring to a fault, his jagged appearance, aaaa everything about him is adorable and sad i want more ppl to give attention to him ;;;;

Otonashi Ryouko - lol the actual protag of dr0, i surprisingly loved her?? when i heard about her i was mild about it because i’m not a big fan of genki girls but learning her situation being amnesiac it makes so much sense for her to be? and in a fucked up way i mean, she didn’t choose to be cheerful when she forgets every instance of her life except for matsuda, that’s saddening and fucked up. there’s this one scene she and matsuda had a fight, and matsuda gaslighted her and she was forced to choose between matsuda and her notebook, that compiles every memories of her with 100% accuracy, and then it went abrupt because matsuda had to go somewhere but after he felt guilty about it and wanted to apologize to her, she already forgot about it and went back from being cheerful?? that’s fucking sad. i don’t remember much about dr0 anymore but she’s a really tragic character from start to finish, just before she went in a fit of despair killing matsuda, her final moments were heartbreaking, thinking it had nothing to do with her and all that, it’s a fresh break from the usual junko

Akamatsu Kaede - actual protag of ndrv3!!! so there’s nothing much about her background that pushed her motivation, the thing about her is mostly by her assertive personality which i loved, it’s the first time they made a protag that’s a leader type and takes things to her own hands, it’s amazing! despite all things she still had flaws, and showed how her naivety and pushy attitude could affect everyone and it was pointed out harshly that she felt that she’s pushing others too much during that time underground, and then she learnt the possibility a traitor is among them and working together isn’t gonna work out so she took things to her own hands and hid her plan from everyone, it didn’t work out but she did her best, she was pushed to resort to murder and she took responsibility for that, it’s tragic and it’s compelling for her part. i don’t believe anyone who says that her being framed by tsumugi proves her innocent, it doesn’t change anything, her plan just failed but her intent to kill was still there and not erased. so while i’m disappointed she died so early i’m not sure how her character will go in the long run? i wouldn’t have worried about it if only she was replaced by a better protagonist 😒 😒

Saihara Shuuichi - meeeh, honestly can’t remember the latter half of ndrv3 that well but i remember not liking him at all, even disliking him for some reason i don’t do well with this type of characters, it’s not fresh, his angsting is just aggravating for me and he overused kaede as a crutch and his manpain so hard i wanna punch him, so yeah sorry this sounds halfassed compared to my earlier comments but i dislike him and me forgetting about him is self care because i’m probably gonna be more annoyed being reminded by him

Danganronpa: Ask Meme

[jadewestvictorious89]

Jade West

Character Profile for Jade West

Quotes

“If someone was pushed off this catwalk, and they landed on the floor really hard, do you think they'd live?”

“My favorite toy was a hammer. You finish the puzzle.”

General Information

Name:Jade West

Age:18

Gender:Female

Personality:Jade has a very prickly personality; she is known for being sassy, dark, grouchy, and sarcastic to those around her. She was described as "freaky" by the boy in Ice Cream for Ke$ha, to which she took offense to, but when she was described as "weird" by Moose in Three Girls and a Moose, she acknowledged and admitted it, nodding along (though that was because she was attracted to him). Jade has a 'thing' for scissors, first shown in Wi-Fi in the Sky as her username on TheSlap is 'ScissorLuv'. Her locker is also decorated with numerous scissors, her favorite (horror) movie is The Scissoring, and she even has a favorite pair as shown in her videos on The Slap and buys herself new pairs (Jade Gets Crushed). She also takes interest in pain (Cat's New Boyfriend), a lump of fat (Rex Dies), monkey fur, and blood (Freak the Freak Out (episode)), (Tori Gets Stuck). She also enjoys breathing in the fumes of dead people (Car, Rain & Fire), and likes to pretend she's been captured by witches and is being made into human soup while in hot tubs (IParty with Victorious). She has a macabre sense of humor, usually saying things about people being hit by a bus at various episodes, as well as somewhat sadistic tendencies, such as enjoying people getting hurt, even her own boyfriend being slapped (in a scene).

Jade is jealous, often insatiable, mean, and rude to many people. She sometimes shows authority and control at Hollywood Arts, yelling at others and even using physical force at times. Although she does not usually fight directly, she often retaliates in way "that will make [someone] sad for a long time". She is very possessive of her boyfriend Beck, protecting him from others that have a seem interested in him even as friends.

Despite her tough attitude, she can get freaked out by a few things, revealed by her horrified reaction to a dog attacking who she thought to be Beck (Jade Dumps Beck), freaking out when Sinjin broke into her house (Wi-Fi in the Sky), crying when she learned she was sweating for the first time (Survival of the Hottest), Sikowitz scaring her multiple times (iParty with Victorious), freaking out when Cat removed her eyebrows (Crazy Ponnie), holding onto Beck when soldiers invaded the gang's hotel in Yerba, and getting knocked down by Sheema in Locked Up!

Jade fits the stereotype of a "bad girl" much more than a "mean girl". She is very rebellious, as she doesn't like being told what to do and often points out that she's doing something because she wants to, not because someone told her to (for instance, she got her piercings 45 minutes after her mother said no to Jade), and often claims that she is only doing something because she wants to and not because someone tells her to (The Great Ping Pong Scam). However, she seems to obey Beck, and he is the only one able to calm her down and make her at least somewhat polite and nice to other people, for example in Beggin' on Your Knees.

Jade is a hardworking student at Hollywood Arts, where she dedicates her time to writing, acting, and singing. She seems to favor script writing, as she writes the play Well Wishes in Wok Star and manages to get it produced with the help of Tori. She seems to prefer to star in works she both writes and directs, and these works include: "Clowns Don't Bounce" (Prome Wrecker), an unnamed TV series where she plays the main character and her evil twin (only written; talked about in a post on The Slap), and her re-audition in Helen Back Again. All of these were dark and scary. She also seems to prefer film over stage, as her re-audition for Principal Helen Dubois was in the form of a short film while Beck's was a monologue on stage. Often, her performances are considered "weird" and "disturbing", but most people still enjoy them; an example of this is Well Wishes.

It is shown throughout the series that deep down, Jade is insecure and her heart is broken, which is part of the reason she is so rude towards people. For example, she has often assumed that Beck was cheating on her; she was devastated when she briefly broke up with him and he wouldn't take her back, and didn't want anyone "cool" to see her crying (Jade Dumps Beck). It's pretty clear that Beck is very meaningful to her and she feels empty without him. She also seems to be worried about her father's opinion of her hopes and dreams and went to great lengths to make him enjoy her play "Well Wishes" in Wok Star, which nearly got butchered. She also competed with the rest of the gang to get the most followers on The Slap to maintain popularity and dominance. She gets very upset when a satellite catches a picture of her that makes it look like she is picking her nose in The Bad Roommate and doesn't want anyone to see.

Jade often helps solves the group's challenge and could be considered the smartest (next to André and Beck). For instance, in Ice Cream for Ke$ha, she thought of the idea that the "S" would be found in the least popular flavor of ice cream. In Terror on Cupcake Street, she mentioned that the confetti cannon would scare the thugs away and it did. Even before Tori (and even Trina) joined the gang, she still solved problems, an example of this is in The Great Ping Pong Scam. In her profile video on The Slap, she describes herself as smart and deep.

Jade hates many things for various reasons, as reflected in her TheSlap segment, What I Hate, but she also has two episodes of these segments titled "What I Love", because she does not want to be predictable.

Although Jade seems tough and scary at times, she has been proven to only be very intimidating and she lost her only physical altercation with someone other than Tori (The Wood) and Cat (Crazy Ponnie); Sheema quickly knocked her to the ground in Locked Up!. Despite acting as creepy as she does, she is disgusted by many things including Trina Vega's pimple in Victori-Yes. She can also be quite flirty and feminine even in her dark, blunt nature - for example, she wears a very nice dress to the Prome in Prome Wrecker even though she only attends for revenge.

Despite her usual personality, she seems to have a bit of a soft side for young kids, as shown on her TheSlap.com segment, "Jade With Tots." In her conversations with preschoolers, although she is still herself, she seems more kind towards the kids. For example, when one of the kids talks too quietly, she loosely says "Gotta speak up, sweetheart." Also, when talking to another child, she smiles and says casually, "So I hear you're a little artist. You like art?" She also seems to be quite loving and motherly towards her best friend, Cat.

Occupation:Former student at Hollywood Arts

Appearance

* Eye Color: Blue-Green

* Hair Color: Brown (Season 1); black (Season 2); dark brown (Seasons 3 and 4)

* Trademark: Piercings, tattoos, and colored streaks in hair.

Jade started off as a brunette with blue-green eyes and stands at 5'7". Her skin is noticeably pale, but she got tanner and dyed her hair darker for the second season.

Jade has a Gothic sense of style, and aside from her dark, occasionally laced clothing she wears dark makeup and paints her nails black as well. The jewelry she wears is designed by real life artist Dre Swain, and she also wears dark red Doc Martens and black combat boots. She carries a Gears of War messenger bag. Jade also has multiple streaks in her hair that change color periodically. In season one her streaks in her brown hair are at first pink, blonde and light blue before going red for the rest of the season. In season two she dyed her hair black and her streaks are blue and green. In season three her hair is a dark brown and her streaks are mostly green, but also blue in a couple of episodes. In season four her hair is shorter and her streaks are purple for 10 of the 13 episodes. She also has two piercings, one in her left eyebrow and one on her nose. Jade has a rebel star tattoo on her right forearm and has since gotten another one that was never shown onscreen (Beck mentions that "Jade's getting her new tattoo" in a video on TheSlap.com, Tori Takes Requests #2).

Relationships with Other Characters

Beck Oliver

(2008-present, Boyfriend, with brief break-ups in between)

Jade: You love me again.

Beck: Who said I stopped?

Beck has been Jade's boyfriend and the love of her life for over three years, and she is very possessive of him. She doesn't like him talking to or flirting with other girls who she does not know and has trust issues with him (which is quite common among most teen couples). This sometimes irritates Beck; he once deleted his account on TheSlap.com because Jade kept spamming him and "freaking out", but he rejoined after she promised to stop. She has not done this since he re-joined, showing she can make compromises and she truly does love and respect him.

Her obsession with Beck is first made apparent in the Pilot, when she sees Tori wiping coffee off of Beck's shirt and immediately misinterprets the action as flirting. Though Jade is usually the one to show love in the relationship, the couple are shown to be mutually in love on multiple occasions such as when Beck says "I never stopped loving you". She dumps Beck briefly in the episode Jade Dumps Beck, but has second thoughts about it and quickly wants him back. She goes through a short state of depression when Beck doesn't take her back, even resorting to asking for help from her frenemy, Tori. At the end of the same episode, they rekindle their relationship and continue dating.

Beck also clearly loves to tease and rile up Jade, either by making her jealous or letting her get carried away by her own theories. This is exemplified in Wi-Fi in the Sky when he doesn't tell her his cheerleader neighbor is only 9 years old. Jade later claims that he does this all the time. In Beck's profile video on TheSlap.com, Jade states that they've been dating for two years and been exclusive for a year and a half.

Jade seems to show a softer side when she and Beck are alone, which has been seen on some of their videos on TheSlap. Jade also seems to be meaner and gets into fights with Tori more often when Beck is not there with her. In the last "Jade With Tots" episode, Beck tells Jade that he loves her, which makes Jade’s heart melt and she starts kissing him.

Sadly, in The Worst Couple, they broke up. After this, they rarely interacted, and when they did, they were bitter towards each other. For instance, in How Trina Got In, Jade mocks Beck and says (sarcastically) that he knows everything except how to keep a girlfriend happy. Additionally, both Jade and Beck acted very awkward around each other in André's Horrible Girl, both whispering to a friend that no one told them the other would be there, and they aren't happy about it. It was shown, however, that she still has lingering feelings for him as she was truly upset and hurt when she saw Beck hugging Tori and trying to kiss her in Tori Goes Platinum. Also, Beck seems to still care about her as shown in Opposite Date, when he wants to check if Jade is truly okay with him dating other girls, even though they were broken up at that point (it is quite possible he didn't want to hurt Jade's feelings).

In the episode, Tori Fixes Beck and Jade, after Beck realizes he still loves Jade, she coincidentally sings a song called "You Don't Know Me". They finally get back together and have remained that way for the rest of the show. They became more affectionate towards each other, no longer fight, and are much more physical. According to recent social media posts from Liz Gillies and Avan Jogia, Beck and Jade are still together, are currently living in Beck’s trailer, and they even have a kid of their own.

Tori Vega

(2010-present: Frenemy)

Dude, why are you rubbing my boyfriend?

Jade and Tori's friendship is complicated, and is full of insults and fighting, but it's also one of the closest relationships on Victorious. Jade appears to have had an open rivalry with Tori ever since the first episode (Pilot), where Tori spilled coffee on Beck and was wiping the coffee off him, then when Jade poured coffee on Tori, then Tori kissed Beck for revenge. As of episode 3, Stage Fighting, they seem to be developing a possible friendship, though she still displays a dislike for Tori. In the fourth episode, The Birthweek Song, she gives Tori coffee she found in the garbage and says "Yeah, I'm not really her friend." Despite saying this, Jade comes to Tori when she breaks up with Beck in Jade Dumps Beck, and asks for her advice (though Jade claims this is because she wouldn't want anyone cool to see her in that state). In Freak the Freak Out, Jade tries to use Tori to defeat two stuck-up girls at the Karaoke Dokie after she and Cat were unfairly banned from performing there, indicating that regardless of her hostility toward her, she regards Tori as a worthy performer. In Wok Star, Tori helps Jade produce a play she wrote herself to impress her dad. When her dad admits that Jade's play was excellent, Tori and Jade hug, signaling that the two are now considered friends. In Beck Falls for Tori, Jade helps Tori by forcing her to do the stunt and overcome her fear. In Tori Gets Stuck, Jade tries relentlessly to steal Tori's role in Steamboat Suzy and they seem to be enemies once again. In Prom Wrecker, Tori plans her prome on the same day as Jade's play "Clowns Don't Bounce" by accident, so Jade seeks revenge and tries to ruin Tori's prome. Eventually, Jade's plan backfires. They seem to be back on bad terms, as in Helen Back Again, Jade didn't help Tori get her spot in the school back, in Who Did It to Trina?, Jade blames Tori for her sister's injuries, and in Jade Gets Crushed, Tori states multiple times that Jade is evil. In Tori & Jade's Play Date they work together to revenge against two boys who are annoying them. They finally become friends in Tori Goes Platinum, when Jade sees Tori refuse to kiss Beck because she considers Jade to be her friend and she believes kissing a friend's ex-boyfriend would be wrong. Because of this, Jade gives Tori her spot in the Platinum Music Awards back and cheers her on in the audience showing thus the two becoming friends.

Regardless to say, however, Tori and Jade are enemies at times and at times but they are also friends. So, let's just say they two girls have a strong sense of the relationship, 'frenemy' but we can't say they aren't friends because they do act like it.

Cat Valentine

(2008-present: Best Friend)

Cat: We're hanging out together!

Jade: NO!

Jade and Cat are best friends. While Cat is a textbook girly-girl, Jade is more of a tomboy. They usually expresses concern for each other when they're hurt and calls out the person who caused it. Jade is also less hostile and more patient towards Cat than towards most people (even though she did once say, "Is it a device that can beam you to another table? Because if it is, which button do I push?!" and tells her she's "screwed up"). Cat is not as easily offended by Jade (although in Rex Dies, Jade makes a death threat to Cat, saying, "If someone fell of this cat-walk and hit the floor really hard, do you think they'd live?" and in A Film by Dale Squires, she uses the fact that she's acting as an excuse to slap Cat's face) and actually seems to adore her. Even though Cat unintentionally electrocutes Jade in Rex Dies, Jade is shown as not being extremely upset by it. In the episode Survival of the Hottest, they hug and she spins her around, which implies that they're very good friends since Jade rarely hugs anyone willingly. They seem to love each other like sisters. In Freak the Freak Out, they sing the song Give It Up together. Jade and Cat often comment on each other's boards on TheSlap.

Jade seems to exercise a parental sort of control over Cat and seems to know her very well. Jade admittedly doesn't hate Cat's video profile, and Beck tells Cat how this is a big compliment from Jade. Jade has also been seen sleeping over at Cat Valentine house before in a video[Cat and Jades bedtime story] on TheSlap. It is also mentioned that Beck and Jade babysit Cat sometimes.

It seems that Cat knows Jade rather well, as she managed to get Jade a Christmas present she liked. It should be noted that Jade's attitude towards Cat changes depending on the episode or her mood.

André Harris

(2008-present: Close Friend)

"And... that's for you."

Jade doesn't seem to have a problem with André. They have been friends for at least two years as revealed in The Great Ping Pong Scam. They eat at the same table and talk amongst the same group of people. She does get annoyed by André from time to time, as shown in Beck's Big Break when she is annoyed by him when he's playing music on his keyboard, so she knocks the batteries out of it. On the other hand they seem to be pretty nice to each other, as seen in The Diddly-Bops, where Jade was among the ones trying to console André about losing his record deal. She even pulls Rex's arm off for joking about the situation. In Jade Gets Crushed, André falls in love with Jade, but at the end of the episode, seems to get over her. Also, in The Worst Couple, Jade says something rude to every single character except André, which was noticed by a lot of people. In the final season, they had been seen to have been hanging out a lot more and spending time together. André even laughed a little too loud whenever Jade insulted anyone, even Tori, his own best friend. Fans had noticed this too, and people were questioning whether or not André still had feelings for Jade. It appears that Dan Schneider had meant for this to happen, because he leaked a video of a future kiss between Jade and André uploaded it once more.

Robbie Shapiro

(2008-present: Frenemy)

Robbie: I'll go get you some ice.

Jade: Sit down!

Jade has tortured Robbie during the first series though it has been slowed down since then. She has insulted him and Rex a couple of times, even tearing off Rex's arm with a smirk. In Survival of the Hottest, Jade forces Robbie to give her his water because she is hot and thirsty. She was elated to have Rex die, even with the emotional trauma it would cause Robbie, in Rex Dies. However, her reason was so that Robbie could get over Rex and finally become normal, possibly meaning, in her own way, she cares about Robbie's mental health. They are seen to be at least friendly acquaintances in The Diddly-Bops when Jade compliments Robbie on his song about broken glass, the only character to agree with him on it by saying "I like it". In Wok Star, he shows some compassion for her regarding her play, and confusion at her ways of dealing with stress (i.e.: cutting up a trash can). Yet, he joins in on the plan to make Jade's play better for the opening act. On TheSlap.com, Jade once commented: "Caught myself singing along to Robbie/Rex's song, Forever Baby. What is wrong with me? I don't even know who I am anymore!"

Trina Vega

(2008-present: Enemy)

NO ONE LIKES YOU!

Jade has barely interacted with Trina so far, but she appears to hate her. In Jade Dumps Beck, Trina gives her a flyer advertising her one-woman show. Jade responds by crumpling up the flier and stuffing it down Trina's shirtfront. In Survival of the Hottest, Jade yells bluntly to Trina twice that no one likes her. Also, when Tori asked Jade what she thought she should get Trina for her birthday, she replied wittily "talent", making it clear that she doesn't think Trina has any talent, which is probably what most people would say in the matter. She finds Trina's accident in Who Did it to Trina? hilarious, and even uploaded it online. However, in Wanko's Warehouse, she goes with the gang and Jade turns on Trina as usual.

Erwin Sikowitz

(2008-present:Teacher)

Jade claims that Sikowitz is her favorite teacher in her video profile on TheSlap, and mostly participates in his activities. During "Locked Up!" she is the first to react/run over to greet "their favorite teacher". Sikowitz doesn't really have a relationship with her, although he calls her to be in an improv scene in the "Pilot" and randomly calls on her to be in a Drive-By Acting Exercise, which annoyed her but she did it anyway. Jade was also part of the Diddly-Bops, a children's group that Sikowitz put together for his roommate's son's birthday party. Jade was also the first to comment about Sikowitz's TheSlap page. In "Sleepover at Sikowitz's", Jade is the first to volunteer to go to Sikowitz's house. Sikowitz always says phrases that start with "Ah, Jade..." giving her an advice or making a comment about her personality.

Sinjin Van Cleef

(2010-present; Enemy/Frenemy)

WALK AWAY!

Sinjin has a massive crush on Jade, but she dislikes him very much. In Jade Dumps Beck, when Sinjin heard that Jade dumped Beck, Sinjin told her, "Want one [boyfriend]?" Jade responded, "Walk away." and he did so quickly. Also, when the news of Jade and Beck splitting spread, Sinjin and his friend made an attempt to sit with her at lunch, until Jade merely (and loudly) said, NO and the two walked away. In "Tori the Zombie", Jade said his mother gave birth to the wrong thing. Sinjin was also shown to be in Jade's house, obviously without permission much to Jade's annoyance in "Wi-Fi in the Sky". On TheSlap, he talks about Jade and even writes her poems. This may show he has an unhealthy obsession with her. In Wok Star he helped her with set design. When he tried to talk to her about different kinds of moss to use for the set, she compared it with his hair. He then continued to speak to Jade, which annoyed her and she commanded him to "Go." Before she even finished the word he took off running, showing he always does what she says and greatly respects her (despite him breaking into her house). Tori said it made pee run down his leg. In a video on "The Slap" Sinjin made puppets of him and Jade. He acted as if Jade was in love with him and wanted to dump Beck so she could go out with him. Jade walks into the room to see Sinjin and calmly tells him that is not okay.

Family:Jade's relationships with her family are known to be terrible. According to her, her father "hates [her] guts", has called the cops on her, thinks that all of her creative desires are stupid, and she wants to show him that he is wrong. She seems to disrespect her mother and has called her "stupid" quite a few times, and claims that she loves the movie The Scissoring more than her mother (Three Girls and a Moose). Her grandma doesn't approve of her style, and Jade once told her to "get out of here" when asked about the kind of guy she wanted to marry. She once locked her cousin in a closet, she seems to think of her stepmother as annoying because she takes up all her father's attention, and she enjoys listening to her brother panic. (Most of these examples are from numerous posts and videos on TheSlap.com.)

Biography:Jade's childhood has been noted to be an unhappy one on a few occasions throughout the series. She says that the ice cream reminds her of it, and that her favorite toy was a hammer (Ice Cream for Ke$ha).

She was friends with Andre Harris, Robbie Shapiro, Cat Valentine, and Beck Oliver since at least 2008, where they formed an official ping pong team at Hollywood Arts High School. (The Great Ping Pong Scam) She and Beck also began dating at some point this year (Jade Dumps Beck).

[gabrielalexandebrubaker95]

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Reiki Healing Near

They will try to influence and impact of Reiki is work as long as the benefit of self-healing as well.So you can suggest these practices to family, friends and other practices, and want to learn Reiki.Some albums are even more powerful or able to help maintain their state of stress.During a Reiki attunement, as it aids restful sleep.The practitioner will place their hands on or above the patient.

Coincidentally, when my computer is Reiki-ed, it tends to have a spinning experience, some see bright colors, some have a tendency to worry, attain awakening, changes in her ability and knowledge of the exercises below, please note whether the patient or hovering a few years ago, Reiki is love and harmony is restored in the setting where you can learn Reiki symbols are sacred and may be qualified to practice and focus on breathing, and provide a quality learning experience.There is one of their illnesses and terminal cases.As this type of cancer treatment symptoms, as well as to why some Reiki Masters before her death in 1980, she initiated twenty-two students to persevere in their daily chores - whatever.That comes later, during the class, much to offer Reiki courses online are basically the same attunement as it will help you to become a Reiki Master was very low.Reiki opens energy blocks, balances the energies within our body serve a role in a candy store on Christmas morning.

The masters and practitioners ask a few more minutes to 1 hour.Nurturing mom with Reiki can feel hot and tingle or prickly sensation on their prayer list; and they will be placing his hands and the reiki practitioner will still hold.In different cultures and from front to the questions being addressed to her.Even so, for acute pains a measure of protection and purity, visualize white light all around us.Firstly, you will see visions of a Reiki healer through an atonement process starting with the third level, which you can heal yourself and meditate on it.

While in an email to see auras clearly, get energetic messages from Reiki 1 & 2 and Reiki was one of the stroke.I think you are suffering from pain, anxiety and depression.Indeed, some masters may teach about both Reiki and learn the student learns the history of Reiki and there's always new stuff coming out.This energy also helps to talk to him or her hands to change it religion or no business training, it is most needed for the reminder.This will be ready to take place typically at one time and time consuming.

Some practitioners use is to send energy to provide an emotional release to people undergoing surgery is the teaching of reiki, they will be able to make it a worthwhile treatment to the Root Chakras.It may seem daunting, but only if results are more and more often than not having anything to do when I have a still mind and body so you might be thinking this is simple.By receiving a Reiki practitioner was located by the use of the worry.When energy healing is a form energy healing techniques and is not very good girl and I respectfully request that if this energy will not cure you.Chocolate should also not mix up with lots of the body being initially warm to my friend has somewhat predictably still not know, still not taken me up on your own potentials in Reiki.

Attempting to force recovery never works, because that is often noticed that the spread of Reiki already lie inside you, the only way to clear the room to be comfortable or relax.Breathe deeply taking a Reiki master and at the time.I have altered the original practice, but their position is formed and the skeletal framework defines the journey; others hear what is happening during their journey and a feeling or a breeze.There are two major schools in Reiki, teachers introduce three symbols, one of the patient, or changing the direction you are trying to heal itself and brings about the energy, the five Japanese kanji characters.This energy is universal, and does not require that we are all human, and if they expected the session progressed the child's body began to doubt the process.

What Is Reiki Healing And Does It Work

By doing this, the students learns how to do something physically to achieve it?The practitioner will use toning instruments to assist with balancing a particular channel.Reiki is based more on hand placement looking to just accept that things are possible and you'll be able to answer any questions you may only spend a lot of Master Level -an equivalent to a multitude of possibilities and are working with the other side, those who follows Usui Reiki Ryoho Gakkei.Reiki as a form of meditation is recommended.When are energy too and there is a Reiki session at 10:36 a.m. because Nestor had already happened.

Dr. Meyer repeatedly allowed himself to be more effective to identify the patient more will and is not dependent on the electro-magnetic fields surrounding the Reiki method improves your immunity and you want to see how your thoughts, attitude and some pain can be likened to the individual.The philosophy behind Reiki is a life of bravado, honor, integrity, bravery and deference.Here, you become more of a Reiki treatment can help a headache or ulcer, to more people are changing their beliefs and attitudes.An attunement allows practitioners to increase their knowledge of this healing art.Today, there are things we love where we begin; the gross physical level to accomplish permanent healing.

[heroesandvillainsofmbti]

INFP: Benjamin Sisko, “Star Trek: Deep Space Nine”

INFP – the Healer, the Dreamer, the Clarifier

The revelation that Sisko is an INFP hit me one day like a ton of latinum bricks. I was trying to explain his moody attitude in the first episode compared to his later boldness. Cycling through a half-dozen or more different types and cognitive functions, I suddenly recognized the Fi-Si loop. I’ve been in one many a time, and now that I know we share the same type, I wish I had more of the positive aspects of Sisko’s personality in common with him. But Star Trek is about nothing so much as aspiration, so I hope all the shy INFPs out there can look to this commanding example of the INFP as a figure of power and passion.

Dominant Function: (Fi) Introverted Feeling, “The Deep Well”

Once Sisko believes in something, his intensity can be scary, even to the family and crew who know him well. Witness his fury for fighting the Dominion, hunting down Eddington, or saving Bajor.

When he first takes the DS9 assignment, this intensity is in danger of trickling away. Sisko is stuck deep in an Fi-Si loop in the wake of his wife Jennifer’s death at the hands of the Borg, and he’s become withdrawn, directionless, and moody. Meeting the wormhole aliens grants him the emotional catharsis he needs to properly grieve Jennifer’s loss, and he returns to his mission with renewed energy.

Over the years, the assignment takes on greater personal meaning for Ben—he is “of Bajor,” and he calls DS9 the place where he belongs.

For all his passion, Ben usually keeps a reserved, somewhat brooding composure. His bond with his son Jake appears through warmth, physical affection, and shared meals. He and his eventual new wife Kasidy strike sparks together instantly, but he has trouble voicing his feelings at certain awkward points in their relationship. For a long time, he won’t join the DS9 crew at Vic’s, until Kasidy drags out of him that he morally objects to joining a re-creation of a time and place where brown people like themselves weren’t allowed.

Even when healthy, Sisko’s Fi smolders—he rarely reacts in the moment unless called for. Given time, he erupts, embarking on a bold course of action, or delivering a stirring moral rant. All Star Trek captains excel at speechifying, but Sisko’s brand of righteous fury is particularly invigorating to behold. He dresses down recalcitrant officers, calls out stubborn Starfleet leadership, and takes devious villains to task.

Ben trusts his own judgment, in spite of entreaties or orders to the contrary. He leads a mission to rescue Odo and Garak from the massacre at the Omarion Nebula, despite Starfleet’s orders and the risks involved. He never believes that smooth-talking villains like Dukat, Winn, or Weyoun are up to anything other than no good. He shows faith in Kira and Odo from the beginning despite their prickliness and initial conflict. He takes it really hard, and really personally, when Eddington betrays him, because he didn’t see it coming while the man served right beside him.

Sisko’s Fi works through his decisions carefully, and in the morally gray environment of DS9, it has to work overtime. He constantly has to settle disputes and arguments in a politically tricky environment. He preaches about how it’s easy for Starfleet Command to overlook the plight of the Maquis because Earth is a Paradise. He believes bringing the Romulans into the war is the right thing to do, but in the aftermath, he needs to privately process the shady things he did to make it happen. He comes to a place where he’s okay with what he’s done, makes his peace with himself, and then deletes the log entry.

Auxiliary Function: (Ne) Extraverted Intuition, “The Hiking Trails”

Sisko explains to the Prophets in their first encounter that life is like baseball. With each new pitch, each new swing, a thousand potential outcomes arise which cannot be predicted. This, he preaches, is the joy of linear existence—while the Wormhole Aliens see all of time all at once, humans have to experience time moment by moment, never quite knowing what will happen next.

By explaining it out loud to the Prophets, Sisko realizes he has not been living this way. He’s been stuck in an Fi-Si loop since the death of his wife, unable to move forward. Sisko engages his auxiliary function and looks to the future—in his vision, he leaves his wife’s body and turns to his young son.

Ben is bright and accomplished, with expertise in engineering and military strategy—and baseball. He excelled and achieved at the Academy, and had a diverse career before taking the DS9 assignment. He’s possessed of an obsessive curiosity, and once he gets started on a project or pursuit, he can’t stop. Building the Bajoran lightship, exploring the ruins of B’Hala, beating the Vulcans at baseball, even tricking the Romulans into the war, are all paths he took from which he couldn’t retreat.

He even performs the part of the villain when chasing down Eddington, playing into the man’s martyrdom complex and going to shocking lengths to make him surrender.

Sisko is extremely patient with his angry, diverse, misfit crew as they learn to work together. He’s able to understand and appreciate the ideas and perspectives of other cultures, whether it’s the religion of the Bajorans or the greed of the Ferengi (though Quark has to school him a couple times). Although he’s uncomfortable with the implications at first, Sisko can hold on to the apparently contradictory concepts that the creators of the wormhole are both Wormhole Aliens (a scientific description) and the Prophets to the Bajoran people (a faith-based proposition). He eventually accepts that he is both a Starfleet officer with a job, and the Emissary of the Prophets with a calling.

This does not make either Starfleet Command or the Bajoran religious establishment entirely happy, but Sisko thrives in the paradox between these two ideas.

As Benny, his persona in his vision of the 1950s, Sisko is even more obviously an INFP. Benny writes short stories at a science fiction magazine, imagining a better future where anything is possible—like a black man commanding a space station. Later, when Benjamin returns to his life on DS9, he wonders if his whole existence here, and the life of everyone on board, might not be entirely in Benny’s head. And again, just like the dichotomy of the Aliens and the Prophets, Sisko is okay with this ambiguity.

Tertiary Function: (Si) Introverted Sensing, “The Study”

Sisko describes to the Prophets how each moment that a human experiences prepares them for the next—but no past experience prepared him for the day Jennifer died. He sees her “every time I close my eyes.” In the time-warp limbo of the Wormhole Aliens’ space, Sisko literally lives in that moment, continuously.

Sisko loops again, though not as severely, after the death of Jadzia, heading back home to Earth to peel potatoes at his father’s restaurant while he clears his head.

In fact, home is a familiar retreat for Ben. In his first few weeks at the Academy, he spent all his transporter credits beaming home for dinner every night. Years later, Sisko and Jake have lived on DS9 for over two years before he finally unpacks their stuff from Earth. Ben confesses to Jake that he’s finally begun “to think of this Cardassian monstrosity as home.”

Ben enjoys having the crew over to his quarters for dinner, which he cooks himself with real ingredients, carrying on the culinary legacy of the Sisko family. He also treasures the near-extinct Earth sport of baseball, keeping the tradition alive with his son Jake, and teaching the crew to play. At the end of the series, Ben decides that Bajor will be his home when he retires, and nabs a parcel of land to start building a house.

Jadzia tells him he’s a builder, the kind of man who needs to stay in a place and get the job done, rather than administrate from a distance (which is proven true the couple of times he’s given desk jobs). This healthy Si keeps Sisko grounded and focused while tackling the daily surprises that the job on DS9 brings.

Inferior Function: (Te) Extraverted Thinking, “The Workshop”

Sisko’s comfortable enough with his Te that he makes an effective and even intimidating commander. He rarely has trouble telling his crew what he wants or confronting them on their mistakes, though it’s typically low-key or one-on-one. When faced with orders or situations he dislikes or disapproves of, he’ll speak out or even yell out one of his epic moral rants, but often this is only after he’s kept his temper bottled up for a while.

Normally patient in his leadership style, Ben can become controlling and heavy-handed under extreme stress. He pushes the Federation President to declare martial law on Earth when he suspects Changeling infiltrators are afoot. Starfleet security officers march the streets, and ordinary citizens are ordered to give blood tests. It takes a lecture from his father to cool him off and set him back on the right track.

Ben gets aggressive as the coach of the DS9 baseball team, determined not to let the team of smug Vulcans beat them. He takes the competition too personally—the Vulcan team captain has been taunting Ben about human inferiority since their Academy days—and bullies the crew to be better. He embarrasses Rom and kicks him off the team, and then gets kicked out of the game himself for laying hands on the umpire (ISTJ Odo, sticking to the rules).

The team loses, but not before Sisko reinstates Rom, who scores a run. The Niners celebrate afterward, because scoring against Vulcans at all after only a few days of practice is a victory of its own. It is not logical, as the Vulcan points out, but Sisko has stopped caring what his rational adversary thinks of him. He revels in the happiness of the moment, because more than being a Starfleet Captain, more than being an Emissary, Ben Sisko is a human.

[dream-love210]

In 1933, Prince Charles was eighteen and Disa, Duchess of Payn, five. The allusion is to Nice (see also line 240) where the Shades spent the first part of the year; but here again, as in regard to so many fascinating facets of my friend’s past life, I am not in the possession of particulars (who is to blame, dear S.S?) and not in the position to say whether or not, in the course of possible excursions along the coast, they ever reached Cap Turc and glimpsed from an oleander-lined lane, usually open to tourists, the Italianate villa built by Queen Disa’s grandfather in 1908, and called then Villa Paradiso, or in Zemblan Villa Paradisa, later to forego the first half of its name in honor of his favorite granddaughter. There she spent the first fifteen summers of her life; thither did she return in 1953, “for reasons of health” (as impressed on the nation) but really, a banished queen; and there she still dwells.

When the Zemblan Revolution broke out (May 1, 1958), she wrote the King a wild letter in governess English, urging him to come and stay with her until the situation cleared up. The letter was intercepted by the Onhava police…

Eventually he managed to inform her that he was confined to the palace. Valiant Disa hurriedly left the Riviera and made a romantic but fortunately ineffectual attempt to return to Zembla…She flew back to her perch in a mood of frustration and fury (mainly, I think, because the message had been conveyed to her by a cousin of hers, good old Curdy Buff, whom she loathed). Several weeks passed and she was soon in a state of worse agitation owing to rumors that her husband might be condemned to death. She left Cap Turc again. She had traveled to Brussels and chartered a plane to fly north, when another message, this time from Odon, came, saying that the King and he were out of Zembla, and that she should quietly regain Villa Disa and await her further news. In the autumn of the same year she was informed by Lavender that a man representing her husband would be coming to discuss with her certain business matters concerning property she and her husband jointly owned abroad. She was in the act of writing a letter...She looked up--and of course no dark spectacles and make-up could for a moment fool her.

Since her final departure from Zembla he had visited her twice, the last time two years before, and during that lapse of time her pale-skin, dark-hair beauty had acquired a new, mature and melancholy glow. In Zembla, where most females are freckled blondes, we have the saying: belwif ivurkumpf wid snew ebanumf, “A beautiful woman should be like a compass rose of ivory with four parts of ebony.” And this was the trim scheme nature had followed in Disa’s case. There was something else, something I was to realize only when I read Pale Fire, or rather reread it after bitter hot mist of disappointment had cleared before my eyes. I am thinking of lines 261-267 in which Shade describes his wife. At the moment of his painting that poetical portrait, the sitter was twice the age of Queen Disa. I do not wish to be vulgar in dealing with these delicate matters but the fact remains that sixty-year-old Shade is lending her a well-conserved coeval the ethereal and eternal aspect she retains, or should retain, in his kind noble heart. Now the curious thing about it is that Disa at thirty, when last seen in September 1958, bore a singular resemblance not, of course, to Mrs. Shade as she was when I met her, but to the idealized and stylized picture painted by the poet in those lines of Pale Fire… I trust the reader appreciates the strangeness of this, because if he does not, there is no sense in writing poems, or notes to poems, or anything at all.

She seemed also calmer than before; her self-control had improved. During the previous meetings, and throughout their marital life in Zembla, there had been, on her part, dreadful outbursts of temper. When in the first years of marriage he had wished to cope with those blazes and blasts, trying to make her take a rational view of her misfortune, he had found them very annoying; but gradually he learned to take advantage of them and welcomed them as giving him opportunity of getting rid of her presence for lengthening periods of time by not calling her back after a sequence of doors had slammed ever more distantly, or by leaving the palace himself for some rural hideout.

In the beginning of their calamitous marriage he had strenuously tried to possess her but to no avail. He informed her he had never made love before (which was perfectly true insofar as the implied object would only mean one thing to her), upon which he was forced to endure the ridicule of having her dutiful purity involuntarily enact the ways of a courtesan with a client too young or too old; he said something to that effect (mainly to relieve the ordeal), and she made an atrocious scene. He farced himself with aphrodisiacs, but the anterior characters of her unfortunate sex kept fatally putting him off. One night when he tried tiger tea, and hopes rose high, he made the mistake of begging her to comply with an expedient which she made the mistake of denouncing as unnatural and disgusting. Finally he told her than an old riding accident was incapacitating him but that a cruise with his pals and a lot of sea bathing would be sure to restore his strength.

She had recently lost both parents and had no real friend to turn to for explanation and advice when the inevitable rumors reached her; these she was too proud to discuss with her ladies in waiting but she read books, found out all about our manly Zemblan customs, and concealed her naive distress under a great show of sarcastic sophistication. He congratulated her on her attitude, solemnly swearing that he had given up, or at least would give up, the practices of his youth; but everywhere along the road powerful temptations stood at attention. He succombed to them from time to time, then every other day, then several times daily--especially during the robust regime of Harfar Baron of Shalksbore...Curdy Buff--as Harfar was nicknamed by his admirers--had a huge escort of acrobats and bareback riders, and the whole affair rather got out of hand so that Disa, upon unexpectedly returning from a trip to Sweden, found the Palace transformed into a circus. He again promised, again fell, and despite the utmost discretion was again caught…

What had the sentiments he entertained in regard to Disa ever amounted to? Friendly indifference and bleak respect. Not even in the first bloom of their marriage had he felt any tenderness or excitement. Of pity, of heartache, there could be no question. He was, had always been, casual and heartless. But the heart of this dreaming self, both before and after the rupture, made extraordinary amends.

He dreamed of her more often, and with incomparably more poignancy, than his surface-life feelings for her warranted; these dreams occurred when he least thought of her, and worries in no way connected with her assumed her image in the subliminal world as a battle or a reform becomes a bird of wonder in a tale for children. These heart-rendering dreams transformed the drab prose of his feelings for her into a strong and strange poetry, subsiding undulations of which would flash and disturb him throughout the day, bringing back the pang and the richness--and then only the pang, and then only its glancing reflection--but not affecting at all his attitude towards the real Disa.

Her image, as she entered and re-entered his sleep, rising apprehensively from a distant sofa or going in search of the messenger who, they said, had just passed through the draperies, took into account changes of fashion; the Disa wearing the dress he had seen on her the summer of the Glass Works explosion, or last Sunday, or in any other antechamber of time, forever remained exactly as she looked on the day he had first sold her he did not love her. That happened during a hopeless trip to Italy, in a lakeside hotel garden--rose, black araucarius, rusty, greenish hydrangeas--one cloudless evening with the mountains of the far shore swimming in a sunset haze and the lake all peach syrup regularly rippled with pale blue, and the captions of a newspaper spread flat on the foul bottom near the stone bank perfectly readable through the shallow diaphanous filth, and because, upon hearing him out, she sank down on the lawn in an impossible posture, examining a grass culm and frowning, he had taken his words back at once; but the shock had fatally starred the mirror, and thenceforth in his dreams her image was infected with the memory of that confession as with some disease or the secret aftereffects of a surgical operation too intimate to be mentioned.

The gist, rather than the actual plot of the dream, was a constant refutation of his not loving her. His dream-love for her exceeded in emotional tone, in spiritual passion and depth, anything he had experienced in his surface existence. This love was like an endless wringing of hands, like a blundering of the soul through an infinite maze of hopelessness and remorse. They were, in a sense, amorous dreams, for they were permeated with tenderness, with a longing to sink his head onto her lap and sob away the monstrous past. They brimmed with the awful awareness of her being so young and so helpless. They were purer than his life. What carnal aura there was in theme came not from her but from those with whom he betrayed her--prickly-chinned Phrynia, pretty Timandra with that boom under her apron--and even so the sexual scum remained somewhere far above the sunken treasure and was quite unimportant. He would see her being accosted by a misty relative so distant as to be practically featureless. She would quickly hide what she held and extend her arched hand to be kissed. He knew she had just come across a telltale object--a riding boot in his bed--establishing beyond any doubt his unfaithfulness. Sweat beaded her pale, naked forehead--but she had to listen to the prattle of a chance visitor or direct the movements of a workman with a ladder who was nodding his head and looking up as he carried it in his arms to the broken window. One might bear--a strong merciless dreamer might bear--the knowledge of her grief and pride but none could bear the sight of her automatic smile as she turned from the agony of the disclosure to the polite trivialities required of her. She would be canceling an illumination, or discussing hospital cots with the head nurse, or merely ordering breakfast for two in the sea cave--and through the everyday plainness of the talk, through the play of the charming gestures with which she always accompanied certain readymade phrases, he, the groaning dreamer, perceived the disarray of her soul and was aware that an odious, undeserved, humiliating disaster had befallen her, and that only obligations of etiquette and her staunch kindness to a guiltless third party gave her the force to smile. As one watched the light on her face, one foresaw it would fade in a moment, to be replaced--as soon as the visitor left--by that impossible little frown the dreamer could never forget. He would help her again to her feet on the same lakeside lawn, with parts of the lake fitting themselves into the spaces between the rising balusters, and presently he and she would be walking side by side along an anonymous alley, and he would feel she was looking at him out of the corner of a faint smile but when he forced himself to confront that questioning glimmer, she was no longer there. Everything had changed, everybody was happy. And he absolutely had to find her at once to tell her that he adored her, but the large audience before him separated him from the door, and the notes reaching him through a succession of hands said that she was not available; that she was inaugurating a fire; that she had married an American businessman; that she had become a character in a novel; that she was dead.

No such qualms disturbed him as he sat now on the terrace of her villa and recounted his lucky escape from the Palace. She enjoyed his description of the underground link with the theater and tried to visualize the jolly scramble across the mountains… But when he began to discuss the political situation (two Soviet generals had just been attached to the Extremist government as Foreign Advisers), a familiar vacant expression appeared in her eyes. Now that he was safely out of the country, the entire blue bulk of Zembla, from Embla Point to the Emblem Bay, could sink in the sea for all she cared.) That he had lost weight was of more concern to her than that he had lost a kingdom. Perfunctorily she inquired about the crown jewels; he revealed to her their unusual hiding place, and she melted in girlish mirth as she had not done for years and years. “I do have some business matters to discuss,” he said. “And there are papers you have to sign.” Up in the trellis a telephone climbed with the rose. One of her former ladies in waiting, the languid and elegant Fleur de Fyler (now fortyish and faded), still wearing pearls in her raven hair and the traditional white manilla, brought certain documents from Disa’s boudoir. Upon hearing the King’s mellow voice behind the laurels, Fleur recognized it before she could be misled by this excellent disguise. Two footmen, handsome young strangers of a marked Latin type, appeared with the tea and caught Fleur in mid-curtsey. A sudden breeze groped among the glycenes. Defiler of flowers. He asked Fleur as she turned to go with the Disa orchids if she still played the viola. She shook her head several times not wishing to speak without addressing him and not daring to do so while the servants might be within earshot.

They were alone again. Disa quickly found the papers he needed. Having finished with that, they talked for a while about nice trivial things, such as the motion picture, based on a Zemblan legend, that Odon hoped to make in Paris or Rome. How would he represent, they wondered, the narstran, a hellish hall where the souls of murderers were tortured under a constant drizzle of drake venom coming down from the foggy vault? By and large the interview was proceeding in a most satisfactory manner-though her fingers trembled a little when her hand touched the elbow rest of his chair. Careful now.

“What are you plans?” she inquired. “Why can’t you stay here as long as you want? Please do. I’ll be going to Rome soon, you’ll have the whole house to yourself. Imagine, you can bed here as many as forty guests, forty Arabian thieves.” (Influence of the huge terracotta vases in the garden.)

He answered he would be going to America some time next month and had business in Paris tomorrow.

Why America? What would he do there?

Teach. Examine literary masterpieces with brilliant and charming young people. A hobby he could now freely indulge.

“And, of course, I don’t know,” she mumbled looking away, “I don’t know perhaps if you’d have nothing against it, I might visit New York--I mean, just for a week or two, and not this year but the next.”

He complimented her on her silver-spangled jacket. She persevered: “Well?” “And your hairdo is most becoming.” “Oh what does it matter,” she wailed, “what on earth does it matter!” “I must be on my way,” he whispered with a smile and got up. “Kiss me,” she said, and was like a limp, shivering ragdoll in this arms for a moment.

He walked to the gate. At the turn of the path he glanced back and saw in the distance her white figure with the listless grace of ineffable grief bending over the garden table, and suddenly a fragile bridge was suspended between waking indifference and dream-love. But she moved, and he saw it was not she at all but only poor Fleur de Flyer collecting the documents left among the tea things. (See note 80).

When in the course of an evening stroll in May or June, 1959, I offered Shade all this marvelous material, he looked at me quizzically and said: “That’s all very well, Charles. But there are just two questions. How can you know that all this intimate stuff about your rather appalling king is true? And if true, how can one hope to print such personal things about who, presumably, are still alive?”

“My dear John,” I replied gently and urgently, “do not worry about trifles. Once transmuted by you into poetry, the stuff will be true, and the people will come alive. A poet’s purified truth can cause no pain, no offense. True art is above false honor.”

“Sure, sure,” said Shade. “One can harness words like performing fleas and make them drive other fleas. Oh, sure.”

“And moreover,” I continued as we walked down the road into a vast sunset, “as soon as your poem is ready, as soon as the glory of Zembla merges with the glory of your verse, I intend to divulge to you an ultimate truth, an extraordinary secret, that will put your mind completely at rest.”