End of the road, succa!
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End of the road, succa!
---
prev
pg3
pg2 -->
Silver Tongue
pg 1 -->
Living in Cerulean wasn't all that it was cracked up to be. Sure, the skyscrapers went far into the clouds, floating cars raced through the sky with hundreds of worlds worth of culture all rolled up in an eighty mile track of land that only a decade earlier was vacant desert.
I walk across a sky bridge. Its glistening blue sheen doing little to hide the fight going on only a floor below.
A group of humans in security uniforms. Their faces stone cold as if they'd left their bodies and let their robotic counterpart take over. The skeleton, meanwhile, dresssed in s puffy black parka and sneakers laughs at the display.
Whatever they say, security tightens its circle around him. I freeze. I shouldn't. Fellow commuters slam into my shoulders but I can't help but watch.
I could feel the phantom sensation of grainy sand-like dust in the air. It didn't matter, I couldn't breathe, watching the rotating security detail grow closer and closer until only just out of arm length.
The momment the security behind them raised the gun, I shriek, "BEHIND YOU!"
The world around me disapears as I watch second by second pass. The security person aims her gun. Its painfully slow how her finger moves to depress the trigger. I could've sworn I impossibly heard a click through the glass when an explosion of light and sparks went off.
Next thing I know, the personel lays vacant eyed staring back at me while the other five wearily swing their blasters to and fro. No sign lf the victim. It's as if they disapeared.
"Betchu clean up nicely." A husky voice said from behind.
I whirl around, nearly slamming into a buisness man walking by. Nobody.
The throngs of people still bend around me like water aroind a rock but there's no sign of whoever spoke to me. Or was I imagining it?
I look back down. Not only had the fallen personel disapeared, there was no sign of the others either. No sign lf blood either.
Still shaky, I stand off to the side, looking out at the skyline.
Did I imagine it all?
I wonder how self-indulgent of a story I could write.... hmmm
Here's hoping I get to work on Take a Stab At It (TASAI) today.
I'm a bit nervous. A part of me wants to treat it like a big project (which tends to go sour with my current headspace) and another part of me wants to just goof around with it + not sure if it makes sense or is good or not.
I wonder if they're is a middle ground or if at this point in the process, should there be?
This is the equivalent of another first draft. (I haven't edited the past the 2nd chapter in several years).
Who knows?
I'll just try to tumble through it for now with no expectations.
Kinda wanna take another stab at a mobfell fic I gave up awhile back. Not the same way I did it before.
Something different.
It was about Sans and Papyrus getting a hit put on them. Frisk coincidently is the hitman who is running out of resets. By the end, they're captured. Things get complicated when the brothers find out that Frisk's roommate is none other than they're father. The man who didn't deserve to be called a father after the hell he put Sans and Paps through.
Thing is, Gaster turned over a new leaf. He made a new family of his own with Frisk and a billion cats around the city.
Will Sans kill Gaster once and for all or will Papyrus's persistence rue the day?
There's also a side thing with Frisk getting high off of getting beaten the shit out of. Ironically, the fic started out heavy kink-comedy and prob will go more anime-style fighting one.
Who knows.
If I do end up doing that, I'll have to rewrite big stretches of it for it to work.
<-- Not Your Toy pg8 +-->
** cue plant talk
** cue overseeing Red meeting and disrespect.
"Silky! To what do I owe the pleasure~" A man with only a vest and trousers leans against a wooden beam. His chest baby smooth with a thin layer of oil showing off all the lucscious curves on his chest. "Are you here for another, you know what?" He waggles his brows.
She puts a hand in the center of his face and shoves him away like a puppy. "I'm here for the spices, Silvertongue. Use your flowery words on someone who cares."
Syndney cackles with maniacle sort of glee. "We aren't exactly a library.' The peacock monster practically skips beside her. "And I warned you beforehand, if the Missus sees you--"
"Do you want me to buy the goods or not?" Silk huffs.
The overdramatic peacock trails his neck backwards in an unnatural way a sibling might do to get under your skin. Silk meets his gaze.
After what had to be a minute of uninterrupted eye contact, Sydney let out a exagerrated, "Follow me," before righting himself.
"You know, you'll overstretch your neck doing that.'
"Oh hush!" He huffs, marching past her
Through the double doors in the back, it leads to a glass house with glass walls. Tropical, desert and other plans all live in the same space.
The two had barely gotten into the culinary herbs when a private conversation carried over the succulents.
"If I harvest everything there'll only have the emergency seed store left. If anything went wrong with in storage -- bam, we're out of luck." A nasaly voice explains.
"I don't like this either," a tired, hirer pitched voice groans. "What choice do we have? His reinforcements will be here anyday now. There's no way to run him out of town so that leaves, you know."
"Somehow, I doubt that'll appease him."
"Ha! I doubt it but it may make him unwind enough for us to make good g while he's here. Any word of him coming?"
"No, ma'am but he's already in relations with the blacksmith's daughter so its unlikely it'll be long before he grows bored"
"Is that really such a good idea. He hasn't been the most... gentle."
"If something happens I'll step in.
"How will we save the next harvest. We won't. We pay We get rich, its not thet complicated."
Whatever the conversation was about, it was far less interesting than the plants.
<--- Not Your Toy pg7 -->
Beneath the counter at the general store, a nervous clerk scrambles to fetch a cigarette. " Here, sir, is this what you were--"
"Last time I checked, sweets, I wasn't paying you a dollar. I'm paying five. I know you got something better."
"But sir--"
"Tch, outta be 'shamed of yerself.'
The clerk bit her lip, holding back fhe fury and fear as he leaned over the counter.
"Ya get ehat? Thirty, forty people a day comin' through. Would be a shame .. Amanda Flint.--"
"How do you---"
" I know all about you. You're the daughter of the famed Master Stitcher, Renae Flint."
Her eyes dart from him to the door. "And if I were..."
"Make my trip worth my while."
She stands up a bit straighter. "I'm doing my best, sir."
"Then tell me where the stitcher js. Your mother."
"Like I told you, she dead, and she wasn't even---" Before she could reach for her rifle, Red chuckles.
"Amanda... How would ya feel if I made an offer ya couldn't refuse?"
<--- Not Your Toy pg6 -->
"Mx Tawny! Mx Tawny! Look what I got!" The blacksmith's apprentice raced up to Silk. Her hands still deep in the garden, picking off horn worms from the tomatos.
She chuckled as the boy leaped over a stone wall, only to trip over a bucket. "Careful, leftfoot."
"Quit it! This is important."
"As important as killing all the horn worm." She tosses yet another into a water bucket.
Concept: Silk; going about her daily tasks // townsfolk: kissing Red ass while Red boasts of all the people fucking him // --> Silk ignoring it pisses him off more
"Even more so, Mx Tawny, LOOK!" The apprentice opened his satchel to reveal enough taffy, caramel and hard candy to rot out all his teeth.
-------------------
A part of her idly wondered if she stole it. Hard to do, few people made it locally, usually she'd only see it at the fair so whoever brought it in would have to be from out of town. The sort of folk the boy knew not to mess with.
Carefully she asked, "how wonderful! I wish I could buy a hundred of my own."
His eyes sparkles. "You could! The noblemen up the road said there'd be more rewards to anyone who knew anything of the master stitcher."
Silk chuffed. "He's here over that fairytale?"
"Master Bran said its real. He saw their work with his own eyes."
"Did he? Was it that old gown in Cheffield's shop?"
"How did you know?'
"I know the sitcher who made it." She leans back, humming at the strangeness of it all. What would a traveling noblemen want with a long dead stitcher. "They weren't all that good seemstess but they had a knack for the most decadent embroidery that'd stop even a King's heart with its beauty."
"Really??! Then why don't you tell him?!! I bet he'd reward you handsomely. Does they live nearby?"
"They lived at the church."
He leaps to his feet with energy that Silk envies. "Where? Lets fetch them!"
"You'll need a shovel.'
"Why are they.... oh."
"A shame, Sirram Flint would've floved to say no."
"Why not? I would never! I'd make a fortune, have you seen his coin purse? It's as big as my head and he even has a golden tooth."
Silk's heart sinks. A little gold would have been a welcome reward but not from him. "I see. Can you make me a promise, Henri?"
"What of?"
"Don't tell anyone the Master Stitcher passed. Sirram Flint wouldn't have liked anyone knowing.'
"Why not?"
Silk felt a part of her chest tighten at the thought. The metal embroidery hoop in her hands feeling ten times heavier. "Respect the dead, Henri. If she had wanted to know, she would've said so. Plus, the clergy don't take kindly to a side buisness."
Memories come flooding back of a cramped studio, an entire wall covered in thread, dy and spindles. It was as if watching an spider weaving its web, seeing the way their needle flowed through the canvas.
"How do you even do that! that's insane."
"Oh stuff it, Silky and go get yourself a drink."
They'd tossed them a quarter
Even then, she'd sensed something eas off. She thought it was just her stomach. Hours later she returned finding Sirram Flint burried beneath the collapsed roof.
Everyone said it was a miracle that she wasn't crushed too. If she'd stayed...
Silk dismisses the stale memory. If only the dead stayed dead. Like before her stomach churned with nausea, no doubt the dishonorable noble snd her would meet again. She just knew it.
For now, she kept to the inn. There was always work to be done. Instead, she sent the blacksmith'd apprentice back into town with a request and some gold.
She could avoid town a little longer.
<--- Not Your Toy pg5 -->
The charming caramel liquid swirls around. Its cool, cellar chilled. None of that warm piss the other taverns laud as drinkable sludge.
Despite the howl of his alcohol starved magic to drink, the bruise on his tail bone said otherwise. He could drink. He'd not stop drinking. Not at one, two, 12, 30. Nobody in the town of Bokin would try and stop him long as the gold ran like wine.
He waves to the bartender, "'nother but with watermelon 'stead of lime."
As if it were a perfectly reasonable request for a watermelon in summerz the bartender nods. "It may take an hour, but it will be done."
"Good." As if by habit, the Judge raises the shot as if to drink it.
A squat inn keeper appears in his mind's eye. Her whole body consumed in orange and yellow flame. Despite her eyes being mere specs of goal, he could feel her thousand degree gaze. She leans in, so close it hurts.
"Get Outta my Inn and Off My Property. So help me, God, I'll strike you down, you hear me?"
For the first time in the Judge's life, his body failed him, mana dried up and his mouth opened and closed like a beached fish
He only manages out a whispery, "why?"
The flames give out, leaving her skin like a peach. The scent of moss and earth rolling off her body as she leans in.
"Go."
Such a simple word sent him sprinting, right to the bar in the next town over. Here, people will bring him what he wants, make quality food. None of these places would offer him the kind of slop she did.
It doesn't matter if she was the only one any of the towns willing to make the size adjustments before arriving. Or that the blankets were folded with care, or the warm way the inn's orange light called to him. Its protectors ready to tear him down if he so much as made a move.
Whatever it was, deep within hos soul, something pushed for him to take it back. A lie. Another one of her lies. She wasn't trying to defend her inn, she was being dramatic. He merely cooked a reasonble meal and left some for her.
How dare she!
What a spiteful and selfish inn keeper. If for any reason, she asks for his help, see if he cares! She means NOTHING.
Once again he lifts it to his lips.
" Useless drunk!" she called him.
As satisfying as it'd be to crush her, he needed the townsfolk assistance to find the Master Stitcher in their mist. If only the stupid decrepid king had described him/her/them, then maybe he wouldn't have to be a detective.
The Red Queen wouldn't wait forever.
<-- Not Your Toy pg4 -->
Things were .. managable.
So managable in fact that she made a face and left before Red said a word about the awful state of the kitchen.
She kicked at a rotten log with her boot. "Silk, why are you so upset? What did this tree do to you?"
"Oh, why thank you me for asking me. I thought you'd never ASK. However did you know?
Was it from the tomatos painted all over the celing?
Or maybe was it the way you sprinkled veggie scraps from the door to TIMBUCKTWO!?"
With a final mighty kick the log split in half, she moved onto the next tree. With a single devestating blow of her fist, the tree split down the middle, revealing a squirrel family who bolted away in terror.
She continued her beat down on the tree. Stomp by stomp rendering it to wood pulp. "How did you guess?" She huffs.
"I must say, the way you rearranged the ENTIRE oven so much you DESTROYED my wall to accommodate it. I'd be surprised I don't get ANTS within the gosh damn HOUR!"
By the time she struck with her last furious declaration, the wood had been pounded so thorughly into the ground, it was at last a few inches deeper than the rest of the soil.
Still on her knees, her trousers covered in dirt, soil and splinters, she couldn't care less.
Every bit of her soul screamed for her to teach that high-born, bird brained welp a lesson until he was crying for his papa. She grit her teeth, savoring the evaporating fantasy while reality set in of what she'd done.
It would've been for the best if she struck him. Sure, she wouldn't have any recourse if he did killer her but it would be better than this.
"I am dead." She sighs, feeling the adrenaline give away to exhaustion. "What kind of host am I if I can't handle a guest? I've been doing this since I was a... I need to appologize, it was uncalled for and---"
A roaring sound ripped past her followed by a bright white light. "What the---oh for the love of gosh." She pushes up her sleeves, runnig as fast as her feet can carry her.
Her mind immediately went to the worst possible scenario.
"Sans, Don't You Lay A Hand on Him!" only to run in just as another laser canon fire shot across the vegetable garden, immediately incinerating several Sunflowers.
"Sans, you stop--" A bone attack wizzes past her head. The bone imbedding in the fense post behind her. Red summons another volley of bone attacks, firing them like a skill archer, only mere miliseconds behind Sans as he reappears in puffs of smoke.
"Red! Not you too!"
A molten sort of anger rises from their feet. "Papyrus! Help me get your brother--"
"He's out." Comes a voice from under a rose bush.
'Wait--- what are doing under there??? yiu could've fled!"
'This is the single best day of my life."
"I see why she left you here."
The heat traveled up her thighs.
'Papyrus! Where are you!?"
"Like I said he's gone."
",Dead---"
"What? No way, he went to market for milk."
"Oh for the love of, why does this always have to happen all at once. Can't I ever get a break?!"
"Mx Tawny, you don't look well."
"I don't look well? Ha! Next you'll be telling me how I should take a nap huh? My would that be nice, to rest and not have to worry about my whole life and everyone I care about falling apart."
By then, the heat had risen to her chest. Smoke rose from her feet, drying out nearby grasses.
"As with alll things in my gosh dang life, it must always be solve by yours truly. Heck, it doesn't even need anything to do with me. I can simply want to support myself without hiering a child and the CROWN thinks that is grounds for investigation."
She throws up her hands. The heat nearly at her finger tips as the world grows red and the smell of burning wood and shouting fills her nostfil as she rises off the ground.
"All I want is to live, be s good person and love the people I wish to love."
Through the all consuming rage, Silk van almost make out words in the shouting.
Its over, her inn is finished. She can't afford the repairs and the king's collector willl come to reposses her home to pay the debt.
By the time she opens her eyes, all she can see is smoke.
"No, no, not again." She zips into the sky, desperate to find any water. The whole inn has to be on fire. Everything will be lost. She will have to start all over again.
The higher she flew, the more her rage flowered.
"How dare he!"
If that blasted pompous guest hadn't come maybe she would've found her happily ever after. As she lept through the clouds, doused for a moment she could see through the haze, through the anger.
Down on the fields below she could see her inn, her guests and the soon to be evicted. It was like a shooting star had been fired straight down.
The rage bloomed so hot she couldn't feel her body any longer. " HOW DARE YOU!" She howled over the roaring of wind in her ears " You Ruined It All!!!"
In the moments before impact. She sees Red. Sees the surprise, slack jaw. Everyone had stopped fighting, staring skywards like they saw death incarnate.
For a ex-guest in find leathers, it might as well have been. At this speed, he would've been wiped from existence, a smudge on the window sill. His howling, fleeing his demise like a coward, that would end, once and for all. All Silk had to do was let it happen.
Let fire be fire.
Consume everything.
Silk the Eternal Flame comes to a stop. She watches with sadistic glee as the once big man shivels beneath the all consuming rage of her flames.
"Ashes to ashes,
Dust to Dust,
Say hi to the devil
and goodbye to my trust."
<-- Not Your Toy pg3 -->
* * *
The next day came and went. Chickens needed to be fedding, stew tending and yet again, something had busted the first step up to the porch. She stared at the step in dismay, "why of all things, my step?" she huffed, returning to preparing her own breakfast.
Sans and Papyrus were nowhere to be seen and only the blacksmith's apprentice remained by the fire, stoking it.
It wasn't until she went to market that something felt... off. The market was usually bustling in the morning and yet, the keepers were already packing up their stock. "Did a storm come through?" Silk asked Paddy, the girl was cheerily whistling.
"A storm? Don't be silly. Red came by."
"Red?"
"He said he was staying at your inn. He bought up half the market and said he'd be having quite the feast at your place. You didn't know?"
"I can't say I did." Silk forced herself to smiled, "Oh .. now I remember. It must've slipped my mind."
"Thank goodness. I thought he'd do you dirty as the king's men did."
Silk rolls her eyes. "No, that's the king's ordeined duty."
With the market nearly all bout up, Silk resigned herself to eating with whatever she could make up. All the best cuts aside from jerky went to the guests, it was the only way she could compete with the neighboring towns. Not that the cuts were all that good...
Now her guest was making a mockery of her making plans like this behind her back. If Silk had an ounce of courage, she'd have thrown him out on the street. As it was, long as he compensated her... flashes of what the King's guard...
The way they covered her propety like locusts, emptying every cabinet, kicking out every guest---
She held her breath.
1, 2, 3.....
Then breathed out.
"You're fine.
You're perfectly fine."
<-- Not Your Toy pg2 -->
No sooner had the other guest departed did Red's fiery eyelights die back until they were a light grey. His aura still pulsed with an anticipated fight but he appeared to brush it off with a smile.
"As I said before in my letter, you'll have a separate entrance to your room." She puts unlocks the door before returning the key to Red.
It never ceases to surprise her how big the bara skeleton was, all the way down to how tiny the hand length key looked in his dinner platter hands.
His pocketed it, brushing past Silk and knocking her off the stoop. He didn't even have the decency to say goodnight. She huffed, brushing off what straw and dirt she could from her trousers. Of course, he had to do them in her best pair.
Back in the inn, she could feel Sans's gaze follow her whereever she went. Whether from the stew, or locking down the front or simply wiping off the tables one last time.
"Ay, Silky, that bara, he actually stayin' here?" A traveling blacksmith asks. Unlike the adventurer brothers who seemed particularly jump around Red, the blacksmith just seemed curious.
"What of him?"
The blacksmith's apprentice, a young boy pipes up, "I hear he's the Red Queen's Judge!---ow!!" The apprentice squeaks after being cuffed.
"Sorry about 'im lad's curious, can't say I'm not either."
"Is that all?"
The blacksmith adds, glancing at Sans. "Is it really such a good idea. I hear the bara's are blood thirsty."
"You bother my guest, you pay the bill, got that?"
He stiffens. "No need, no need."
Nearly at the stairs, she felt a pull at her coat. "Sans... don't be difficult."
"How long have we known each other?"
"If I trusted your gut every time you didn't trust a guest, I'd be out of buisness. I appreciate that this is comong from a good place but I can't afford to say no."
Sans winces, "What if I--"
"You're not paying for your room until the rest is settled. Got that?" Silk said but she doesn't wait for an answer. She forces herself to gently close the door.
Not even the most thrilling adventure novel could cut through the relief of the day being done. Admittedly, Red's appearance was the least of her worries.
From what little she knew of Baras, they were rarely the type to associate in a local inn. She always envisioned them the types to be covered in ornary, jewels and silk.
Instead, his clothes looked weathered. Still well-made and hardy but not the unblemished look that she'd expect.
It didn't matter either way. Red had his room and likely would be gone tomorrow. Any of this nonsense that Sans was stirring up would be done before then. Then things could go back to their dull monotany that she coveted so dearly.
Not Your Toy pg1 -->
-----
A musician plays a loot by the fire while a perpetual stew simmers over the hearth. Gentlefolk argue in hushed voices in the corner while another group drinks merrily with their newly wed companion.
Silk found herself pleasantly bored with the evening. After weeks of the King's men barging into her Inn, for once it felt like she could rest easy.
With the stew long since replenished, linens set, all there was was to wait for the mystery guest said to arrive this very night.
Silk wonders what the gentlefolk is like. Never had she recieved such a handsome advance of gold before. Perhaps they are a tax collector or maybe a merchant?
Though, there are more "upstanding" inns in the next town, hers was the only one before the port. Maybe it was only poximity. Nonetheless, it allowed her to get a fine cut of lamp for the pot and beef for smoking. She could already taste the hickory smoke and the lovely set of spices.
Through misty windows, Silk caught a light in the distance. She wonders idly if its him. Pulling out an old stitch she was working on, she savors the sensation of needle and thread. The lovely mix of browns, greens, oranges and reds that dotted the fabric, giving the impression of a robin in flight.
As the light grew closer, one of the regulars, a skeleton named Sans eyes the traveler coming closer. He nods to his sibling, Papyrus. "Mx Silk, are you having any more guests arrive tonight?"
"Could be." She shrugs. 'We'lll have to see."
For whatever reason, Sans grew more shifty, casually drinking his liquor before going outside. His brother thanking them before following.
She returns to her embroidery. Concentration pressed into each thread, carefully woven together. It wasn't until someone shouted. "That's far enough partner! did Silk rise from her seat.
The others were pressed up against the window. Silk ignored them rushing outside to find a standoff. Papyrus and Sans pointing their revolvers at the stranger. An intimidating cloaked figure with firery red eyes, meaty hands and revolvers the size of infants. When the stranger smiled, a single golden tooth sparkled in the candlelight.
"You must be Mix Tawny, pleasure." He nods in lieu of bowing.
"Silk, this ain't the sort of folk you want to--"
"What My Brother, is saying, no one with respect would arrive at such a queer hour."
The once pleasant smile on the stranger grows razor sharp. "Last time I checked, Creampuff---"
All chatter goes silent as Silk steps beside Papyrus. "I appologize for our lack of hospitality. The King's guard have been awfully friendly as."
That warm smile peaks through the deadly sharpness ever so slightly.
"Sans, mind checking on the strew. I think I smell something burning--"
Urgency tinges his ever word, "But Mix--"
"Do you doubt your brother?"
Like a house of cards, Sans crumbles. "I'll be watchin you, Goldie."
Once the doors were shut and it was just Papyrus, the stranger and Silk, she holds out her hand. "Papers?"
He passes them. They're clearly signed by his representative who came ahead with the gold and his own signature. The paper looked of the same quality. The courier must've moved fast. From what she could tell, he mentioned having to go to the otherside of the kingdom.
"Pleasure to meet you, Mister..." She holds out her hand. Silk hears Papyrus's sharp intake of breath as the stranger embraces her hand.
His hand practically swallows hers. "Likewise, sweets."
Even from the quick handshake, she could feel the raw magical and physical power in the giant's hand.
"I didn't catch your name."
"Didn't share it." He seemed to enjoy it. Silk had a feeling he'd be.... troublesome.
"Red it is." He shrugs, looking unbothered by the new name. "You'll have the first floor room. Per your request, I had a larger door retrofitted."
Papyrus tried to follow but Silk blocks him. "Why don't you check on that stew, dear?"
For once, Papyrus looked ready to argue only to say, "I'd prefer the stars." He returns to the porch.
"Suit yourself."
<---- Better Not pg2
Ten, fifteen, nearly thirty minutes pass in the hallway. All the while the little guardian angel marches back and forth in front of the door.
Monsters and humans alike oggle the tiny guardian as ne mutters to nemself. "I told him. I told him but no. Nonononono, don't seek out a spiritual healer. Why not lock yourself in your room and lock your angel out? Who needs one anyway? If I had hair, I swear to the heavens I would--"
Apple stops short of a human with their phone out. Ooing and ahing as they spoke in baby to nem. "Mix, did you need something?"
"And look how cute he is!!! Even when he's angry he's adorable!!! aww, look at the way he flaps his wings when he's angry! HEY!" The human screeches as Apple punches the phone.
Magic contact sending the lens cracking before showering the ground in glass and electronics a moment later.
"Bad bitty!" She reached out as if to grab nem. Ne darts back with a powerful thrust of nir wings when ne crashes into something.
"Ann, what are you doing?" Above Apple, nir guardee uncertainly looks between the woman and nem.
"You're bitty attacked me unprovoked!" She leaps off the ground, brushing herself off, "you need to get that thing neutered."
Adam blinks owlishly. "But what were you doing?"
"All I was doing was complimenting him!" She huffs, holding out her phone to show the video. "See!"
The slow human blinks again for a minute before replying. "Apple, have you spoken to Sage about this before?"
"I did."
"No I haven't!"
The floor babysitter aka den mother calls, "What's the rukus?"
"Adam's bitty broke my phone and bit me!"
"I thought they only broke your phone?"
She ignores them, marching over to the den mother who looked like she'd rather talk to anyone else and waves for them to go.
Adam returns back into the roo., locking the door floor to ceiling before throwing himself back in the blanket cocoon.
"No!" He grabs ahold of the blanket to tear it off when all of a sudden ne is scooped into his arms. It's as if ne isn't even real.
"Quit that, you'll miss your studies."
Better Not pg1 -->
----------
Atop a pile of dirty laundry, discarded ramen cups and a large quantity of lollipop sticks, stands a teacup-size skeleton. A golden circuit rests upon his head with wings like an angel and dress like an archer. Grease and dirt mar nir bones.
"Adam Tyranus Paegis, where are you?.'
One of the countless mountains of trash slides into another, revealong a blanket of stars and soda cans rising and falling gently.
The bitty, armed with a bow and arrow, shoots into the wall, riding nir bow down to the blankets. Ne stands atop them, tall and restraining the twitch migrating from nir brow to nir fangs.
"Five more minutes." The sheets curl around a child-sized body. "Please? Apple?"
The once stern no nonsense look losens ever so slightly. "So you can skip your studies?"
Out from the blanket crawls a man with stubbe and deep bags beneath his eyes. Shaggy hair covers one eye while the other remains half lided. "We've got conditions."
"Whether or not you do your studies is non-negotiable.'
The man lets out a brlaboured sigh before returning beneath the blankets. His bulky adult size body meeting a child sized one beneath the covers.
"But that's not fair!" A young boy's voice cracks in frustration.
Apple waits patiently while the man and boy argue beneath the blankets. When the boy finally hisses, "double dessert or nothing." Before his outline vanishes and someone else comes out from the covers.
An elderly balt man with a long beard and glazed over eyes. His jaw set as he emerges with what looked like a crude drawing of a tiny person in a cage.
He pushes it to the bitty's feet. "The boy's been through alot, don't tempt me sky-rat."
Apple briefly glances at the crude drawing then at the old man.
"I suggest you consider our terms quickly. The child is strong."
"Then fight him!" Apple throws up nir hands, "aren't you in charge?"
The old man barks out a wheezing laugh before coughing. "Good one, sky-rat. Now, I'd tell your baker friend about the order or you won't see us in that dingy classroom of yours."
"Fine, fine, now get back in there and do what you do."