#invisible muddler

[flowerbloom-arts]

*Throws you these and disappears via smokebomb exit*

[flowerbloom-arts]

Omnishambles

chapter 1

In which I, the Muddler, have become an invisible leech on my fellow crewmen, the Moomin tries to ignore the situation, my Joxter tries to salvage my visibility in any way he can, my uncle falls into a great sadness, and then I go to sleep.

-

Prolog | Next Chapter

[Features the whole Oshun Oxtra. Full of angst. 3.5 k words long. Some Juddler (Joxter x Muddler) cuz I can't help myself.]

🥀

I sat there as my uncle explained to the others what had happened to me in an emotion I don't remember seeing him express before. He was normally so stoic, what happened…? I looked at the ground and only then noticed my legs weren't where they're meant to be.

Where was I? Was I… gone? As I tried to look for myself, my uncle finally explained that I seemed to have turned invisible.

Oh. So that's what this is.

I'm just invisible. Not gone – but not a ghost, either; they just can't see me under my still visible burnt saucepan. I didn't know how to feel about it. I was still trying to process what had happened, how my tin was gone. Just… Gone.

I still couldn't believe that.

I had that old thing for as long as I can remember… which, admittedly, isn't that much since I can't seem to remember much of my adolescence but, still, I'm pretty sure I've had that thing for a very long time, not to mention everything that was inside it: My penwipes, pipe cleaners, cookware, cutlery, gears, tools, pencils, clothes, jewelry… buttons… My poor buttons especially… Every one of those I've collected myself; some were gifts from my Joxter, yes, but I went to riverbanks and dumps – and you don't want to know where else – to get everything. I had to spend time walking, searching, and finding them, I had to take so many baths to clean off those horrible smells off my wretched self. All of that just to satisfy some unreasonable desire I can't even begin to describe.

And now, everything that I've gained from it is nothing but debris in the middle of nowhere, lost to rust, engulfed by the great unknowns of the abyss below our boat.

Now, I was worthless. At least, I felt so.

Hodgkins searched for my arm and lifted me up so I could stand, confirming that yes, I was there, just not able to be seen.

I looked at him as he gave me – or I suppose the ground or saucepan – the most disquieted look I've ever seen on that old blue face of his.

"Are you alright?" He asked gently.

I nodded, but all they could see was a pot tilting up and down. I looked at the others for the first time in this state.

Moomin tried to keep a serious expression but his eyes had a deep horror within them, and Joxter had such an expression of heartbreak that I desperately wished I could've mustered up an apology for him, but I'm completely voiceless as it turns out. I looked down and noticed the Nibling – I think he didn't know what to think, really, he was speechless with confusion, as we haven't known each other for long and had little to no bond.

Hodgkins' paw drifted down from above my elbow to my own paw and said "Let's take you to the pilot-house," as he guided me there.

I looked back at the crew one last time and then quickly turned back around before the guilt took hold of me. Despite this, it still eventually enveloped my heart knowing they held the same expressions as they watched us leave.

I sat down on the couch of the pilot-house and my uncle went to the chest to search for something. I looked at him and wondered why he's still bothering with doing anything to help me, still bothering to care at all. He only cares about important matters, he was always a practical man that I admired deeply, he was too big to care about little things. So why would he care about me if I wasn't at least useful? Now I'm just useless, why am I worth his time anymore?

He came up to me with a blue ribbon and snapped it in half with his claw. He kneeled before me and asked to place my paw on his, when I did so he tied the ribbon around my palm and tied it like a bracelet, he did the same to my other paw. This was so they can see where my paws are, probably so I wouldn't mess up without their foresight…

My uncle looked down at the ribbons silently and I could tell words were being discarded in his head for what he should say now, some part of him was also considering not saying anything at all, but finally he came up with a forlorn "I'm sorry…" in a tone I only heard when he rarely spoke of his past "I am so sorry…" he continued slowly "I… I shouldn't have let this… that… happen," he looked up at my pan and I noticed the mist in his eyes, this was so unlike him, I couldn't possibly muster a word if I was able to. He sighed heavily and asked guiltily; "Am I at fault?"

I shook my head decidedly, of course it's not his fault, what happened wasn't remotely controlled by him, why would he even ask this?

Hodgkins nodded sadly and patted my arm twice. He got up and moved his arm across his face, checked for tears and rubbed that part of his arm while he looked out the window. The rest of the crew was already gone by now, so he looked upward at the horizon and held onto the steering wheel.

"We'll find land," he muttered to himself and made a few things on the control panel click "We have to," he added "We have to…" he repeated more quietly and desperately.

I looked down at the floating ribbon hoops and felt sorry that this didn't go as I had hoped – I hoped that I could actually disappear, quickly and painlessly, but now I had somehow become more of an inconvenience and a reminder of things they think they've done wrong. I even made my own uncle cry, what person does that? Why is it so difficult to do anything right? I couldn't even stop being a nuisance right – at most they got to stop looking at my miserable face, but what good is that if they still had to worry about me over everything? My mind echoed apologies and I didn't have the voice to let it escape, I couldn't say sorry as I always did a million times a day, it was suffocating.

How was it that I felt more suffocated in open air than a cramped and crowded tin of metal and wood and plastic? Why did I have to be this pathetic and upsetting? Why was I like this? What was I like before? Did it matter what the answer was?

I was a wretched little thing – or rather, a wretched thing that wanted to be little. A disgusting wretched thing, really. I couldn't… I couldn't be any better if I tried. This isn't any better. Worse than I imagined, in fact.

My imagination really was rubbish.

Why must it be so difficult to not be myself for once? Why did I have to paint my tin when just the boat sufficed? I didn't even write its name properly, of course I didn't, my uncle was sparing my feelings – it was supposed to be Ocean Orchestra, not Oshun Oxtra, only an illiterate fool would call this work of craftsmanship an 'Oshun Oxtra', I didn't know at the time… if I wasn't so sensitive Hodgkins would've corrected me and I wouldn't have made this boat so laughable like myself. I was… he… he cares so much for nothing, doesn't he.

Gosh. What a mistake that must be…

I tried to curl up into a ball to muffle my own thoughts somehow and the sliding sound of my invisible paw against my saucepan alerted my uncle, he knew what I was trying to do just by the position of my paws and my headgear. I was upset, and I was trying to stop being upset, so he left the steering wheel and came over to help.

Silent as he is, he moved my paw aside and I looked at him. He wouldn't know from looking but I was on the brink of crying like a small child, but as we'd learned our song and dance from doing it over and over, he could sense it. His ears lowered and he sat next to me, being careful not to step or sit on any part of me. He crossed his arms and leaned on his legs while having some difficulty thinking of what to do or say again.

It really must be hard for a man like him to walk in a room full of eggshells that made nonsensical noises…

Out of an inability to do anything else, I slowly and hesitantly hugged his arm and back, hoping it'll make up for the lack of apology. He really seemed to need one, to me atleast, apologies were the only thing I had to offer him. My slow breathing turned into sniffles as I choked back tears thinking about how awfully insufficient or ill fitting this must be for him, and finally I cracked and started crying on his shoulder – goodness gracious, he was literally my shoulder to cry on.

Hodgkins noticed this and held my arm with a paw. "Hey hey it's alright, I'm fine, you're fine, sorry for not saying anything, I really should learn how to," he told me and rubbed his thumb on my arm "Please don't cry… I didn't mean…" his voice hollowed out and he left himself in silence.

I continued weeping and held a tighter grip on him, hoping this painful feeling could go away if I did. Hodgkins' paw moved to my back and he twisted his position so he could hug me properly.

I felt my eyes widen and then looked down, this was the first time in a while he hugged me, I was too afraid to be touched since the Booble incident. Tears welled up and I buried and rubbed my head against his chest, making the saucepan slide off. It tumbled down and hit the ground with a large bang which made both of us flinch.

The sound rang in my ears. I had ruined it, I ruined this hug and now Hodgkins will have to pick it up for me. Why did it have to be ruined? Why did I have to ruin this moment? Why…

Hodgkins didn't seem to care, he only pulled me in closer and held my head "It's fine," he muttered and continued in silence.

I felt a strange mix of emotions, but above them… I just… I really did miss being hugged by him and feeling the world melt away.

…

Is it too selfish to wish this could last longer than it should?

I wanted to be able to ask him if we could stay like this all day… but at the same time I didn't.

I didn't want him to do something he didn't want to do because he pitied me. Then again he probably did most things out of pity for me. Yet this is probably a stressful time for him, having an invisible nephew on his boat, pretty sure I'm the last member of his family that could be here with him… that's really not the best luck to have, is it?

I wanted to let go, but I didn't, but I did. It was just too nice of a hug to break out of, and I was too scared I'd hurt his feelings if I did, but also he could possibly be wishing we'd stop already. Hodgkins had a job to be the ship's captain and I was keeping him away from it. He probably really wants to check if his boat is in good condition after that horrendous storm, it should be his first priority, not me, anything but me.

Why should I be?

…

The comfortable silence was broken by Moomin's yelling below deck; "Do you really think any of this is going to work!?"

He sounded frustrated. Hodgkins and I looked at the floor and my immediate reaction was to go down and try to defuse the situation or help with what's going on, and so it also was Hodgkins' reaction awell, apparently.

He put an arm up against me as if to say I should stay here, but of course I didn't, it probably had something to do with my Joxter, after all! And he and Moomin didn't get along very well, they could get into a fight! I picked up my fallen saucepan, put it on and silently followed Hodgkins from behind to see what's going on down there.

"Muddler should be fine! He's just not visible!" I heard Moomin cry from below deck "I don't think it's worth searching for lost junk like a madman!"

We passed the Nibling looking down worriedly at the entrance (he wasn't allowed in there especially after the night he stowed away and made literally everything all sticky) and went down the stairs. Hodgkins stopped to look at the situation and I peeped behind him, holding his back. He felt my grip and looked at my saucepan but didn't say anything, both of us looked back at the scene between Moomin and Joxter.

"That's because you didn't give a jonk's whisker about him in the first place! Muddler's my friend! You're just a tag-along Hodgkins met right before we got launched into this mess of an adventure!" Joxter replied and went back to searching for something in a drawer. Moomin was holding a slightly wet fishing net and had the most offended look I've ever seen on his face.

"Tag-along!? I've worked to be a valuable member of this crew while you lazed about doing nothing but smoke and eat and sleep! If anything, you're the tag-along here!" Moomin accused. Joxter scoffed and didn't reply, only continuing to search in the drawer. Moomin was getting even angrier "Did you not hear me!?"

"Not sure about Joxter. But we heard from above deck," Hodgkins said.

Moomin's ears shot up. He dropped the fishnet and turned around to look up at my uncle and gestured toward my Joxter "Hodgkins!! Thank goodness you're here! Could you please knock some sense into this creature! He tried to recover Muddler's junk with your fishing net and that obviously didn't work, now he's trying to scrounge up anything he can to give it to Muddler, thinking it'll fix him somehow!"

He's doing that for me…? He rarely gets out of his way to do anything, and he's searching for things… for me?

"First; pick up the net," Hodgkins commanded calmly.

Moomin froze and bent down to do so "Ah, right, sorry-"

"Second; Joxter is doing what he can for what he cares about. Don't dare discourage it," Hodgkins said sternly.

"Thank you!" Joxter exclaimed exasperatedly, still looking through the drawer, he gave up and closed it in favour of the one under it. Moomin growled, irritated at this, and folded up the fishnet.

"Well if he's being 'useful', what are we meant to do?" Moomin asked.

"We… should check for damages. That storm was harsh," Hodgkins suggested and put his arm behind to pat my back, he looked down at my saucepan and asked "Do you want to stay with Joxter?"

I nodded. I felt like I needed to stay with him if he's putting in so much effort just to help me, but I still held a tight grip on Hodgkins' jacket.

Hodgkins' eyebrows and ears lowered and he lightly pushed me forward toward Joxter "It'll be fine. You're the only person he never bites."

I looked at him and slowly turned my head to look at Joxter, he seemed to be trying to analyze my saucepan and ribbons for the context of where I am. I shrank back at his gaze, yet I stepped forward shyly and held my paws together. He sat on the floor and watched me approach him slowly, he patted the ground silently, signaling that I should sit down with him. I kneeled on the wooden floor.

Hodgkins, upon seeing this interaction, felt sure enough to ascend up the stairs. Moomin followed behind, shooting us a quick glare before disappearing up himself.

I stared silent at the closed entrance. I heard rattling next to me and turned to discover it was just Joxter frantically emptying his pockets of everything he had found so far, he seemed almost excited to present them to me.

He picked up a loose cogwheel from the small pile and held it between his pointer and thumb "Look! I know it's not much but I know that the reason you turned invisible is because you lost your tin – or at least that's the thing that pushed you into it – so my thinking is that if we rebuild the collection, perhaps it can make you feel better and you can turn visible again? Maybe it wouldn't help entirely but I'm hoping that it would be enough until you can properly communicate and take the rest from there? Maybe? A whisper at least?" he maundered and offered the cog to me.

I hesitated. It reminded me too much of the time I accidentally almost choked my uncle for breakfast by dropping one in his omelette. I strongly didn't want to be reminded of it, but I didn't want to hurt Joxter's feelings either. I pushed aside my irrational feelings about it and grabbed it anyway. I felt a great lump in my throat as I examined it.

"I knew a chap once who turned invisible," Joxter began, he always knew a 'chap' who did something related to anything, I always wondered where he keeps finding them "It was because he felt very unhappy about his mistreatment and his mother forbidding him to see a good friend was enough to make him wish he could disappear, I don't think I ever saw him after he muttered his story to me like the whistling wind and ran off into a forest."

He cupped his paws over mine which held the cogwheel. "As much as I don't care for worries and do my best to simply live, I want to live with you. I can't bear the thought of never seeing your face again because some storm decided to be especially cruel."

It wasn't some storm.

"I'll try my best to help you as best I can, I'll even take over your duties on this ship if it means you can recollect yourself and have time to recover."

Please, don't force yourself.

"I owe you after every little thing you've done for me,"

No you don't.

"you are wonderful,"

I'm not.

"and I love you."

… I wanted to say 'I love you too' so badly and out of habit. But I also didn't want to. What's wrong with me?

My whole body shook and I knew he felt it as he held my paw, he was extremely puzzled as to what emotion the shaking is conveying.

"Are… are you alright, dear? Do you need to lie down?" He followed the path of my arm up to my shoulder and held it "Goodness, you're shivering! We should get you in the sleeping quarters this instant, you hear?"

I couldn't do anything but agree, I was shaking, I felt a well of awfulness bursting from my stomach, I was tired, afraid, I couldn't handle another terrible thought about how wretched everyone on this boat is, I couldn't handle myself and anyone for that matter, I wanted- no, needed to sleep.

Joxter lifted me up by the paws and guided me to my bed. I sat down on it. I fell sideways on it. I didn't feel the necessity to change my clothes even if I felt disgusting already. I needed my mind to shut up in my unconsciousness and I needed it to do so as soon as possible.

Joxter threw a blanket over me and looked at the inside of my saucepan in an attempt to make eye contact "Do you want me to stay with you?"

No.

I shook my head and waved my hand side to side.

"Alright then… oh, and we can't forget about the saucepan, you're going to wake up with an awful ache if you keep it," Joxter said and slid the pan from my head and placed it on the nearest surface. He looked at the pit on my pillow kindly "Sleep well, Muds."

I nodded, rolled over to face the wall, and slept.

But I didn't sleep well.

[flowerbloom-arts]

Muddler, Hodgkins, and... Bird mom.

[flowerbloom-arts]

Omnishambles

Chapter 3

In which Joxter isn't handling the situation as well as I'd hoped, we try to find a way to send the Nibling home, tensions rise and Hodgkins and I aren't as different as I had thought. A strange new thing appears outside.

-

Prolog | Chapter 1 | Previous Chapter

[features the whole Oshun Oxtra + the Nibling. Explicit Juddler. Angst. 3.7k words. Sorry if this chapter is a bit of a mess and sorry for taking so long. I didn't make illustrations this time as they felt unneeded.]

🥀

Joxter and Moomin approached us after a quiet while, they were careful and silent, neither wanted to scare me and Moomin was afraid of Hodgkins. Joxter, with a slight smile on his face and his paws behind his back, came up to me. He turned his head toward Hodgkins for approval and he gave such by unwrapping his arm around me, slowly taking me away from the hug.

Joxter sat down on his knees before me and dumped his pocket of things in the vain of what he had found yesterday, buttons, scraps of cloth, springs, screws and other things I might've lost on this boat while I still had the tin, it must've taken some effort to dig those up.

"I found most of these yesterday while you were sleeping," he explained "I believe these ones are a bit older, you had fished them out of the river years ago and admired them for a few hours each," he picked up some of the odd buttons from the pile and presented them, he took out a red triangular one with his other paw and held it between his fingers "You said some really profound things about the geometry of this one in particular, and you were so fond of this shade!"

I tilted my head to look at the Moomin behind Joxter, he seemed to be annoyed at what Joxter was saying, and then he turned away with a guilty look. I wondered what he was thinking.

"Do you… remember?" Joxter's eyebrows lowered and his smile weakened. I looked at him, the answer was that I didn't remember, sadly, so I shook my head and lowered his paw with mine. I didn't like the color anymore either.

Joxter's expression dropped and he placed the triangular button back on the pile. He sighed "That's… alright. Your memory of that doesn't really matter anyway, we're building a new collection and I'm looking forward to seeing if you have any new perspective on these things," he dropped the pile on the floor and scooped the whole thing up to put it back in his pocket.

My Joxter has always been one to listen to my unimportant ramblings about whatever knick knack came to my attention and talking about all there is to talk about a small insignificant decoration, perhaps I even went way far beyond what could be said about it. Yet he was still happy to lay down beside me and pull his hat over his face to fall asleep to my prattles.

I don't really remember most of them. Joxter remembered more things about me than I did. I can't say why that is, me being forgetful. Perhaps I was just like that, or that the thought of my collection took up more space in my mind than my own sense of identity, or I was trying to forget the pains of my childhood and forgot the good or simple memories along with them.

My memory of my life became a vague and indistinct mass of emotions and 'It wasn't like the present', of details that should be obvious or memories recounted to me by others, and a vague line between the two periods of my life between 'was alright' and 'was in the most pain anyone could imagine'. I know this was a more recent problem of mine, but 'recent' was also a vague window of time from after Edward ruined our lives.

This worried Joxter a lot and Hodgkins gave concerned glances whenever my lack of memory on anything was brought up.

The one thing I held onto dearly was the very nebulous fact that my parents were lost in a spring cleaning. That's the story Hodgkins keeps telling and I have no choice but to believe him, in fact, I've always used it to comfort myself, to think they were good and gracious and still out there. I'm starting to have my doubts.

If I had the heart to lie about it I would've spared myself the heartache of seeing my Joxter's eyes glint with fear and concern over me, over us, that a lack of me not remembering how we came to be romantic or how we even met would somehow make our relationship falter from its foundation. I was also scared by proximity, but my feelings for him remained untouched as it were; I was still very attached to him and I knew my feelings were just like this for a long, long time. How Joxter sees this, however, I don't know. I'm scared of whether he felt differently.

"I like your new coat, by the way," Joxter commented.

"I got it for him, clothes from yesterday disappeared when put back on," Hodgkins said and got up.

"Ohh… I see, good to know… think we can get him more?" Joxter asked.

"If they fit," Hodgkins replied and put his paws in his pockets "In the meantime, we should start thinking of other matters. Muddler is important of course but not the only problem to worry about."

"And what would they be?" Joxter said, suddenly feeling slighted on my behalf.

"The Nibling, for one; a small child separated from his family and is causing problems with our flooring just by walking on it, need a way to send him home. Could also help with postponing a food shortage. Second, we need to prepare, that storm knocked us into a crisis, we're not letting it happen again. Thirdly-"

"And you're going to leave us to our devices like you always do?" Joxter interrupted him and got up. "That's half the reason we got into this mess! And you're going to continue neglecting your crew? Your nephew?"

"I'm not…" Hodgkins sighed "I'm not neglecting you."

"You've been neglecting your nephew since he painted his tin and now you're dropping him after you feel you've done enough already?" Joxter accused rashly.

"Joxter, I've already discussed things with Muddler, there's no need to argue, especially not in front of him."

"And how long until either of you forget about your little discussion and go back to the exact same dynamic?"

Hodgkins stared at Joxter and looked indignant but couldn't come up with a retort, he grumbled and pinched his nose. "Moomin," he ordered, trying to keep his tone calm "Could you fetch the Nibling for us?"

"Yes- Yes sir," Moomin saluted and went away.

I felt terribly guilty.

"And you're just-" I tugged at Joxter by the shoulders before he could finish, I tightened my grip on him and shook my head when he looked at me in surprise. His expression softened and I felt like retreating into myself like a turtle.

I shouldn't have done that, I should not have done that.

I let go of him and stepped back, staring at the shadowed floor.

Hodgkins looked at my coat silently and sympathetically then sighed. "You're trying to stand up for Muddler like you always do, I know that, but this time's unnecessary. You're being irrational."

Joxter didn't reply and simply crossed his arms. After a few seconds of thought he finally spoke up and asked "What else am I meant to do if he literally can't speak for himself?"

Hodgkins thought on the answer and shrugged "Be more cooperative? I know that you love Muddler but eliminating other issues should be something to be done. Unless you want to designate yourself as his servant for the time being." he joked at the end.

Joxter was not amused.

"That… was a half-hearted suggestion," Hodgkins admitted awkwardly.

We all stood in awkward silence until Moomin finally came back while holding the Nibling like a small toy. "Well, here he is," he said and plopped the small creature down gently.

"Thank you," Hodgkins replied and looked down at the Nibling, who seemed rather intimidated.

"Did I do something wrong…?" he asked Hodgkins innocently.

"No," Hodgkins answered plainly "We were just looking to get you home," he said and crouched down to seem less threatening "You miss your mother, don't you?"

"Maybe…" the Nibling answered hesitantly, fiddling with his fingers.

Hodgkins seemed a little unsatisfied with the answer "Your home? Your friends?" he continued questioning "You'll surely miss it all eventually, and we're in no condition to care for you when we don't know how much longer we'll last on this boat."

The Nibling nodded understandably. "You know how to send me back?"

"That's just why Moomin brought you here, we thought you might help in brainstorming how to send you home."

"Hm…" the Nibling hummed thoughtfully and sat down on the floor. "Maybe you can put me in a box and I'll float back?"

"Tides are unpredictable," Hodgkins replied "Can take you anywhere, probably not home…"

"Maybe we could tie a balloon to him and we can swim across the air back home?" Moomin suggested.

"First of all; no helium-"

"What if we ask one of the sea creatures down below for help sending him?" Joxter suggested.

"And risk him getting eaten?"

"We already have a possibly dead hemulen woman on our conscience, what's a small Nibling worth more?" Joxter retorted.

"Joxter this is a small child who hasn't done anything worth death-" Hodgkins said before being cut off by Moomin;

"Sorry but the Hemulen Aunt being a tad annoying was worth getting her nose eaten…?" he asked sheepishly.

"He ate your anchor rope and made us drift into this mess! He ruined our sleeping quarters and floors and made Muddler clean the whole darn thing up!" Joxter argued.

"That's- That's not what I- that isn't what… that… not… damnit!" Hodgkins went from crouching to sitting on the floor and held his forehead. "Fff… dumb… stutter…" he mumbled to himself and sighed heavily "Stars, how did we get into this mess?"

"We… wouldn't be here if Moomin hadn't felt 'hErOiC' and saved that hemulen from the Groke!" Joxter accused.

"What!? The Nibling stowed away by himself and the hoard got on the ship on their own accord! If anything they would've kidnapped someone else if I hadn't gotten her on board!" Moomin defended himself.

Hodgkins saw where this was going "That was a rhet-"

"And we should THANK YOU for that?"

"M- maybe!"

"'MAYBE'? REALLY?"

"DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY NO? I'VE BEEN FEELING LIKE I'VE DONE NOTHING BUT WRONG SINCE I GOT ON THIS BOAT AND I WOULD LIKE JUST A LITTLE APPRECIATION SO I DON'T FEEL THE NEED TO JUMP OFF HERE AND DROWN MYSELF!"

"OH? OH SO YOU FEEL WORTHLESS ON THIS BOAT? YOU DIDN'T EVEN TRY TO PLAY NICE WITH US! MEANWHILE MY B-FFFRIEND LOST HIS MOST VALUABLE THING AND TURNED INVISIBLE AND WE'RE ALL STUCK HERE WITH YOU!"

"That's eno-"

"'YOU'RE STUCK HERE WITH ME'??? STUCK WITH ME??? AM I THAT MUCH OF A BURDEN???"

"Enough-"

"PERHAPS YOU ARE YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF-!"

"ENOUGH!" Hodgkins yelled and stopped the fight. It was a horrible, piercing yell, one that I haven't heard from him… ever. The irritation on his face subsided into guilt and held his face in his palm "Shouldn't even have built this damned boat in the first place," he said and got up, pinching the bridge of his nose and then slowly lowered his paw to his mouth and looked at the ground sadly.

Moomin's eyes lowered guiltily and he fiddled with his own paws, meanwhile Joxter looked down and didn't seem remorseful, just upset, the Nibling was scared and didn't say a word.

I, on the other hand, felt hopeless.

I wanted to do so many contradictory things at once. I wanted to cry and comfort all of them, I wanted to yell at them to just get along, I wanted to tell them it's okay, it will be fine, I will be fine, I wanted to admit that I doubt I'll ever be fine, I wanted to run away to the lower deck, I wanted to tell Joxter off for saying those hurtful things to Moomin, I wanted to tell Moomin that he should've closed his mouth, I wanted to suggest we should use a telegram for the Nibling, I wanted to do nothing at all. I froze and did just the last thing, for I hadn't the voice or will to do the rest.

What am I worth if I can't do anything?

Why did they have to feel hurt?

Why did I have to hurt them?

I couldn't even find some socks for the Nibling to wear, and now I am completely unable to. He's just sitting there, scared and helpless — he's just a child, as Hodgkins said, he shouldn't be here with a bunch of filthy, awful, unruly sailors, he should be home by now, but we don't know which direction it's in anymore.

… What did we do?

I felt Hodgkins' paw on my shoulder and I felt reality fall on me like a tower. I suddenly remembered I'm meant to respond to this situation somehow, and I did the first thing I always do.

Cry.

Dark tears ran down my face and I desperately clung onto my uncle's arm. I sobbed.

Short, sudden breaths could be seen and felt as my whole person seemed to shake up and down and drew closer to Hodgkins for a hug.

"I'm sorry," Hodgkins whispered and held me back from the hug. "We- we should leave," he paused "Now. We should leave now."

It took a while for me to take in what he meant and then I nodded slowly. He guided me away from the rest and into the pilot-house.

"Taking him to the tower just like yesterday?" Joxter asked quietly.

Hodgkins stopped in his tracks and turned his head to the side "Pilot-house," he corrected.

"Is this going to be something you do everyday?"

"... I need to spend time with my nephew," Hodgkins answered "Alone," he added with emphasis and moved on.

Hodgkins gently closed the door when we entered the pilot-house and leaned against it while covering his face in shame. "This… this is my fault," he mumbled through his paws. He lowered them and paced around the room "What am I going to do? I messed up, I messed up, I messed up, I… what am I meant to do? This is my fault," Hodgkins kept repeating himself "I'm so sorry to drag you with me, I panicked, I… why did I think the Nibling thing was a good idea? Dumb, didn't have- didn't have a plan, needed something to get mind off things and it's worse. I'm just 'Samuel F… flunk-it-up Hodgkins' all over again and I don't know what- what to do. Joxter hates me, Moomin and Nibling are scared of me, you… you don't- you don't not like me, do you?"

I didn't respond.

Hodgkins stood silent and the panic in his eyes misted into remorse "I'm so sorry- I'm sorry you have to see me like this, that you have to see that I'm actually the dumbest person on this boat. I couldn't- I couldn't even make Moomin feel welcomed! Joxter keeps telling me I'm selfish and he's- he's right. If I wasn't selfish we wouldn't be here, if I hadn't looked at my dumb picture book we would be fine living in a rebuilt house instead of me trying to be something I'm not. I'm… sorry. I shouldn't… I'm… Your grandmother was right," he admitted defeatedly and sat down on the chest, speaking with a lower voice "I was never right to take care of you when I couldn't even get priorities straight."

I stood there awkwardly and looked out the window, it seemed that Joxter and Moomin were talking. Or they could be arguing, hard to tell from here, but for once I didn't really… care. In front of me was a mostly stoic uncle of mine who I've known and loved my whole life suddenly cracked under the weight of having an unhappy crew and the prospect of probably not being able to survive on this boat. I didn't know what to think at first, but in my search for a feeling all that I found was empathy, and thus feeling bad for him. Hodgkins has never been one to be anything close to upset like this, I saw him as a figure that couldn't be brought down, one that would be able to protect me at any given moment, and now he's just… sitting there… hating himself… was this how he felt when I'm like that? Probably worse, but it was a terrible feeling all the same.

I came closer to him slowly and eased into a hug, knees on the ground, and he accepted it. I suddenly felt a small damp spot on my back and Hodgkins tried to rub it out.

"This isn't… this isn't your fault, if you dare think that," he told me "It was a shamble put together with tape. Bound to fall apart."

I tightened my hug on him and with all my will I tried to speak, but all that could be heard was something akin to breaths. I wanted to talk to him so badly for once, he needed to hear something from me. If he had a one-sided conversation himself he's just going to make himself feel worse, but I still couldn't speak, I felt useless.

And he felt useless…

And we both felt useless.

Maybe we were really related in more ways than blood.

Hodgkins stroked my back in silence a few times and said with great effort to articulate "You don't remember your father, do you?"

I shook my head and he felt it, he knew it meant no.

"He loved you very much," Hodgkins said in response with a quiet, shaky voice.

That much I knew about him.

"He was odd like you. Talked about anything for long periods. Used to hop around and be happy. Suddenly became upset because he failed at something he was passionate about."

That… he hasn't told me. He didn't talk about my dad very much.

"Despite that, you made him very happy. Always loved the idea of a regular, domestic life, like you. You were his pride and joy."

I lifted my head up from the hug to look at his face, he was looking down very intensely trying to remember my father and pick his words carefully, there was almost a smile on his face if my eyes didn't deceive me.

"He liked the sun a lot, we didn't have many days without a grey sky when we grew up, clear skies were an occasion he adored. And when he had you, with your mother, you made him happy like when the sun was out. He called you 'sunshine' because of that," he loosened his hold on me "I miss him. He's not going to come back, neither is your mother. I doubt they ever will. I'm sorry…" he sniffed "I felt that you were a precious thing of my brother's that I needed to take care of because he wouldn't be around to do that, you were always going to be his child, not my child, that I could never be able to replace him and his kind words that I can't even begin to think of. He loved you so much in a way I couldn't, and measuring up to him for you was out of the question entirely," his voice started to croak from all the talking.

"That's what made me so upset to talk about him with you, I could never be like my younger brother when it came to being your father but I was too scared to give you up to someone else. Couldn't trust anyone else with you and I was probably right given everything you are, still, I feel like… I feel like… I'm definitely wrong for not thinking about you or your safety at times. Can't ever forgive myself for not checking on you after you painted your tin that night. All I want is for you to be alright and I ruined it. I'm sorry. I know you probably have it in your heart to forgive me but I really, truly am remorseful for my past actions. I just can't tell if I can stop," he paused "I'm sorry… for telling you all of this at once. Makes me a worse parent. You didn't have to know any of this, I shouldn't make you feel bad. I'm sorry."

I stared at his lowered face for what felt like a long time and then lowered my gaze. He already said a lot of these things earlier but this time it felt more personal and less in line with how he usually acted. He didn't feel like the man I knew, his face didn't even look the part. He seemed so scared and unsure on top of all the sadness and guilt that were present from his earlier monologue. It was an odd feeling, mostly negative, repulsed even, I was dumbfounded that he was still my uncle, then a small feeling of comfort arose amidst the confusion and heartbreak.

He was also like me. He was still my father's brother and thus my uncle. We were alike, and there was solidarity in that. We're all upset with ourselves one way or another, and we loved each other when we couldn't love ourselves.

Family is funny like that.

If one person always feels bad then there's a good chance at least another person in the family feels just like that.

The main difference between us was that Hodgkins couldn't let himself cry.

I held a paw up to his shoulder and he looked at the ribbon in an odd way, he seemed puzzled by it, then accepting of it. He still sniffled and was very close to crying. He started to close his eyes as his feelings subsided. The room suddenly glowed a strange shade of white and I looked out the window.

I squinted as I couldn't tell what was blocking the view outside.

… Clouds?

[flowerbloom-arts]

Omnishambles

Chapter 2

In which I wake up too early and find myself unbelievably miserable and alone, Moomin is being rude from his own issues and impatience, and Hodgkins talks longer than usual.

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Prolog | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[Features Muddler, Hodgkins and Moomin. Full of angst (with a tiny bit of comedy). Around 4.5 k words long.]

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I eventually woke up from a nightmare I couldn't remember and my bed felt a bit damp, likely because I was wearing my hot layered day clothes rather than the bathrobes I wear as pajamas. I blinked a few times because everything was an odd blueish darkness, I wasn't sure if it was something wrong with my eyes or mind or whatever thing that could cause this.

I sat up and rubbed my eyes thoroughly and looked up around me. Things were still dark but I could see the outline of the others sleeping on their beds…

It's… it's nighttime. I woke up in the middle of the night. Of course. Why would I think it was otherwise? I slept at, like, what? The afternoon or whatever it's called? I knew the sun was still up, I wasn't very good at knowing what certain times of day are called, or when they happen based on the position of the sun.

I observed a bit longer, not sure what to do at this time. Do I go back to sleep? No, I wasn't sleepy. Do I get out of bed? … Maybe? I might wake up the crew or mess something up though, they'd be so panicked to find I was gone from my bed as well. Then again I could also get some chores done, but I'm not sure if I'm in the mood to do chores… or if I'm really able to do them at all in fact… it… it doesn't hurt to try, does it? It doesn't hurt. It shouldn't. It won't. I could… I could do it.

I had to.

But first I had to stop feeling so hot, it's making me feel like I can't breathe, even my pillow seemed to have absorbed the sweat from my head. Are my clothes still on me? I can't see them on account of them also being as invisible as myself.

I searched around my chest for my coat's top button and got painfully reminded how much I despised my own body for how much it despises me. Like oh, of course I just couldn't be a normal man, no no, I had to be a clumsy biological mix up, a natural mistake! I had to be a muddled mess by birth and I had to go from a supposedly happy child – that's what Hodgkins told me I was, atleast – to a teenager who was too scared to get touched by anyone but his uncle lest the other person finds out and calls me a freak. I'm not even a complete Muddler. My father is… I don't know what to call him, nor do I remember what he looks like, but I think he's relatively close to Hodgkins, right? He has to be.

And that's why my eyes are weird and blue, that's why I'm freakishly tall, that's why I'm so sickly and full of pain all the time, that's why I'm so clumsy and dumb, hybrids like me tend to not come out too right. I can't hide my eyes, but at the very least I can hide my chest and my size. It didn't change the fact that my whole back and legs felt like heck to walk with but at least I could feel like I seemed acceptable to Joxter… oh and to think what everyone else would do if they knew two socially unacceptable men were in love! This is why we haven't told Moomin about it and we plan to never will… and I'm lucky to have an accepting uncle, even if he doesn't get romance…

It makes my skin crawl to think that fate has bestowed upon me a constant series of tantalizing conundrums where I'm only halfway acceptable in any aspect you look at. Whatever did I do to exist like this? Was it the fault of my parents? Did they do something wrong and I had to endure the punishment? It would make sense given everything that has happened to me… but… they wouldn't do something horrible enough for the punishment to be this bad, would it? They would never, so therefore I have to be the cause of it, there's simply no way justice would operate like that. Unless it isn't that bad and I'm being terribly ungrateful like I always am… I don't have a right to complain… this is why all of this should only ever stay in my head…

… what was I meant to do again? Ah yes, take off my coat. At least now I wouldn't have to deal with looking at myself and being reminded of everything aforementioned, I guess that's one upside I could take away from this.

I managed to find my invisible coat button and move it through the invisible hole. I did the same with my three over buttons and partially became free of the terrible heating it caused. I went ahead and took it off by my sleeves and dropped it on the bed.

Odd thing though, it faded into view, and the coat became invisible again, unlike me. Or at least I think it became visible, it's still difficult to see in the dark. I removed my scarf with the safety pin attached as well since it made my neck uncomfortably hot like that coat, the thing also came into view as I took it off from myself.

I moved my blanket aside and got out of bed, I almost stood up straight but my legs buckled into the crouching stance I taught them to stand in for a long time now. I turned to look at my bed, all messy and wrinkly from what I could perceive in the darkness. I considered for a good few seconds whether I should make my bed right then and there and even picked up my coat, but… uhm… y- you know what? It would be better if I had my coffee first and also waited until some sunshine could come through and my crew would be awake so I wouldn't be bothering them with my noise… yes. But wouldn't they also think I was being irresponsible and not looking after myself because I didn't make my bed…?

Actually, I should make a note explaining all of that! That way, they wouldn't be worried and they wouldn't think I was being dumb! And they'll think I was being considerate!! It's perfect!

I tiptoed from my bed to the little desk Hodgkins kept all his writing and drawing material at. I squatted down and opened one of the drawers carefully and felt my paw around to find some paper and pens.

Then I halted. Wouldn't this be considered stealing? Should it? … I'm… I'm sure Hodgkins will forgive me if I used just one piece of paper, right? Right…? I continued searching.

I found some paper at last, then the pen I found in another drawer. I got up from my squatting position and put the paper down on the desk. My eyes were adjusted to the darkness by now to see what I'm writing hopefully, so I put the pen to paper and wrote:

“ ”

… I said I wrote:

“ ”

… why isn't the pen writing anything? Is the ink run out?

“ ”

“ ”

“ ”

Maybe I should try a different pen-

“ ”

Why isn't it working??? Are all these pens broken!?

“ ”

What in Walter Hunt's name-!?

“ ”

… Does fate legitimately hate me?

“ ”

I'm done. This isn't working, I'm probably doing something wrong with these pens, but whatever, I can't seem to use any of them and I am too tired to figure it out now… I need my coffee.

I gave up and left the desk a mess of pens, I'd deal with it later, I thought. I almost forgot to put on my saucepan but thankfully I remembered before I left the sleeping quarters and ventured into the pantry.

I lit up the oil lamp hanging on the ceiling using a convenient long match close to the entrance and looked through the tin cupboard and tried looking for where the coffee tins were, maybe I should organize the pantry soon… I pulled one out and looked at the label;

Hills Bros Coffee™

The tin was red and had a little bearded old dude in a yellow dress drinking coffee on it, little texts at the sides of him said 'The Original Vacuum Pack' and 'Red Can Brand', the tin was unremarkable otherwise.

I was overcome with… hatred for this thing. The red shade of this cylinder mocked me somehow, it knew what I had been through and it made fun of me for it. I didn't know if it was brand loyalty, the fact I just lost my blue coffee tin just yesterday, or I simply hated the color red now, I simply knew I wanted to throw this tin can to the ground and crushed it under my foot, even if I didn't feel such a strong hatred for this kind of tin before, I hated it now and I wanted it out of my sight.

My paw shook with it in hand and I quickly slammed it back in place. Actually no, I slid it into the far back of the cupboard and picked up another, less offensive tin. It didn't matter what brand it was, I just didn't want it to be red.

Making coffee on this boat was absolutely hellish. Clean water was one thing but boiling it required patience I simply did not have at the time, so I settled for lukewarm coffee. I still felt tired and bad and terrible. And tired. And terrible…

Why did it have to be so bad? It would've been better if I just stayed in bed and not have to be frustrated going through all of that…

Nobody else even opened their eyes yet and I already had one of the worst mornings I can remember, the sun isn't up yet-

Oh, wait no, I peeked over to the entrance and I can see some sunshine coming through, Hodgkins and Moomin should be waking up now, early birds that they are. I took a quick sip of my coffee and dashed back down into the sleeping quarters with careful steps.

I gently placed the coffee on the desk and went to try and fix my bed but… then I lost motivation as soon as I picked up my coat.

I suddenly didn't want to fix my bed anymore. I lowered my paws and lost my grip. The coat fell back onto the bed and I felt like not doing anything. I fell quiet in my mind, and I sat down with my body taking up as little space as possible, waiting for everyone else to wake up. I should have cleaned up the desk… but I didn't.

The sun hit my uncle's eyes and he woke up slowly, I tensed up as he looked at my direction, squinting. He seemed confused for a second and then remembered yesterday, he groaned and got up, half disappointed that I'm still an issue they have to fix. He looked around and saw the mess I've made of the desk and my own bed, he then looked at my saucepan and tried to greet me very forgivingly; "Good morning," in a still sleepy tone.

He got up to survey the crime scene I had concocted while they were asleep, looking inside the empty coffee mug I left on the desk, then the paper and pens. He didn't seem all that bothered, or maybe he's wondering all sorts of things about how and why his desperate and poor little nephew would do this, one can't tell with this man.

He walked over to my bed and picked up the scarf curiously, then he asked my saucepan "Your clothes from yesterday?"

I nodded.

He took out the safety pin that held it in a loop and threw it on my bed and looked at my saucepan again. "Hold still, testing something," he said quietly and squatted in front of me. He put the scarf on me from behind my neck and let it hang on me for a bit.

The invisibility bled from the part of the scarf touching my neck down to the ends of it, it completely disappeared after a few moments, then he took it off of me and it faded back again.

Hodgkins looked at the scarf in his paws, he furrowed his brow and hummed. "Perhaps we should try clothes you haven't worn," he suggested.

Then we heard Moomin groan as he got up from his bed, he rubbed his eyes and saw us already awake. He seemed confused as well but then had the realization and scoffed, annoyed. He climbed out of bed and mumbled "Morning captain," to Hodgkins and then glanced at my saucepan with irritation "Muddler," he added with some disgust in his voice, or at least I'm pretty sure it was disgust.

"What did we discuss yesterday?" Hodgkins asked indignantly.

Moomin sighed and pinched the bridge between his eyes "Right, right, erm…" he looked up at my saucepan. "I'm sorry about yesterday, and… the rest of this whole boat trip… I'll make an effort to be nicer to you from now on." he said and Hodgkins only nodded in response.

He wasn't being sincere, was he? Hodgkins definitely told him to say that to me. He didn't like me one bit and I knew he didn't hide it. He thought I was everything I thought myself to be, which means it's probably true, right? That I was dumb and clumsy and worthless – that's one thing I knew we agreed on, I'm too scared to talk to him and find out what else he thinks.

"Anyway," Moomin continued and turned away with his paws behind his back. "I suppose we should have some breakfast soon, since Muddler is dealing with his…" he gestured vaguely towards me "Situation…" he completed and turned away again "I'll kindly take it upon myself to cook breakfast for the crew! I may not compare to Muddler when it comes to cooking in the eyes of some but I believe it to be the right thing to do in such a distressing time for the rest of you! … except the little Nibling, he doesn't seem too in touch with the tension of everything."

My heart sank into the mattress of my bed as I felt terrible for having someone else take over my duties, Joxter did promise me yesterday but hearing that moomin say it and knowing it's going to happen practically right now gives me an aching feeling in my stomach, or maybe it was the bad coffee from earlier…

Moomin made some oatmeal for breakfast. It was honestly strange having food given to me by a stranger. We didn't frequent restaurants or cafes very much, I wasn't used to having food handed to me by a practical stranger.

I sat on the floor at the corner between the doubled stairway, it was where my tin used to sit and I would eat whatever I could alone in there, but it's not there anymore. Yet I still sat there, staring at my food and trying my hardest to force myself to eat but I couldn't even make myself lift the spoon and dig into it. I sat pathetically for a while, and Moomin eventually noticed.

"Do you… not like oatmeal?" Moomin asked with concern.

I did like oatmeal, it was an alright breakfast most days and I wanted to say as much, but it's hard to tell if I should nod or shake my head at such a question; 'Yes I don't like oatmeal' and 'No I don't like oatmeal' are practically the same answer, how should I decide? I simply stared at him, not knowing how to respond otherwise.

Moomin was puzzled at my non-response and the realization hit him, it seemed he took it as me waiting for him to rephrase the question for a better response; "Ah, sorry, I meant do you like oatmeal?"

I nodded.

"Then why haven't you eaten it yet? Do you just not get hungry when you're invisible? Hodgkins explained part of it to me after we left the lower deck yesterday – since, well, I didn't know about it – but he said he doesn't know much about it either, so," Moomin explained.

I think I just didn't have an appetite, even if I should eat something right now. I didn't get to eat dinner yesterday either, I should be starving by now.

Moomin paused and looked down thoughtfully. "Oh it's going to be difficult having to ask just yes-or-no questions…" he mumbled and looked back at me "Er, are you hungry?"

I nodded.

"Do you want something else for breakfast?"

I shook my head. I shouldn't trouble him with preparing something else for me anyway.

"Then there shouldn't be an issue!" Moomin snapped "Back in my old orphanage my principal would make us eat the most bland boiled vegetables out of her garden, at the very least this oatmeal has some flavour!"

I shrunk into the corner and felt so terribly ungrateful at that moment, Moomin had it so bad for his childhood and what little I remembered of mine was decent enough. Hodgkins was good, Moomin's principal was awful, I shouldn't even be feeling so terrible all the time… gosh… I'm so dumb…

My paw shook as I tried to scoop up some of the oatmeal and it shook even more violently as I tried to shove it in my mouth. I felt Moomin's gaze on me and it pinned me to the wall. I couldn't do it. My head dropped low and I started crying. My tears escaped my eyes and stained the floorboards as they faded into visibility.

Moomin panicked "Are- are you crying!? Oh no, oh no no- Hodgkins is going to kill me and throw my body overboard if he finds out!" he exclaimed dramatically.

"Find out what?" Hodgkins' shadow loomed over Moomin, he was holding his bowl of breakfast and had an old coat over his shoulder.

Moomin squeaked and slammed his back against the knee wall of the stairs. "I am so sorry Hodgkins I didn't mean to-!"

"You made my nephew cry?" Hodgkins asked, noticing the tear stains on the floor.

Moomin started to gabble "He didn't eat his oatmeal and I asked him if he wanted something else and he didn't and I said he should just eat it and he started crying and-"

"Treat him gently next time," Hodgkins said sternly and kneeled down, he placed his bowl aside and reached in slowly for mine "It's okay, you don't have to eat right now…" he spoke softly to me, it nearly gave me whiplash at how quickly his tone managed to change. He picked up my bowl to leave it on the floor next to his. He picked up the coat from his shoulder and placed it on his arm.

"Come on, let's put this on you," he offered a paw to lift me and I obliged. He made me stand up straight and put the coat on me. I wore it insecurely, looking at Moomin's dumbfounded face staring up at the saucepan that reached above Hodgkins' shoulder, then I buckled back down to the height of his lower chest.

I crossed my arms and looked down, it was a midnight blue coat that I think Hodgkins wore but stopped wearing for some odd reason. It sat far too big on me, then again I was used to oversized clothing on myself.

Hodgkins waited in anticipation for it to disappear but it didn't. He patted my back, relieved, then he crouched down to pick up the bowls.

Moomin still stared at me and I wanted to hide in the corner away from him, I wanted to avoid him so badly, he didn't like me, he didn't. He hated me so much and only tolerates me because of Hodgkins. That's it. That's the relationship we have. I'm scared of him and he hates me and the only thing keeping us together on this wretched boat is my uncle who we both admire and cling onto. I hated the look in his eyes, I hated the way he looked at me, dumbfounded and afraid and scornfully.

We didn't know each other well, yet his lack of experience with me made his feelings toward me feel more genuine. The person I've become was unbearable, I thought, the other two clung onto the person I used to be, Moomin didn't know who I used to be, and he didn't like me.

And I wanted to avoid that reminder.

Hodgkins took a few steps to leave and halted, remembering that he should start caring about me himself, aswell. He looked at my saucepan, slightly embarrassed, and cleared his throat "Still want to eat this?" he asked, referring to the oatmeal.

I shook my head.

"Want something else?"

I shook my head again.

"Not hungry anymore?"

I nodded.

He looked at me with concern and lowered ears "If… when you're hungry later, just come up and tug my clothes, alright? Don't want you to starve."

I nodded, hesitantly.

Hodgkins had an untrusting look on his face and offered the bowls to Moomin "Take these below."

"Y- yes sir!" Moomin blurted out, took the bowls and ran off down the entrance.

We looked at him and then Hodgkins looked at my saucepan "Should give us some alone time, he gets oddly rude about my care for you."

Of course he did, he was in a padded sea shell at the door of a terrible orphanage, and of course he'd be attached to him, and of course he'd hate me for taking Hodgkins away from him.

Hodgkins sat down in the corner I was at and looked at me expectedly. I sat down next to him and he pulled me into a side hug, he looked down thoughtfully. "Been doing some thinking yesterday, about how I've been handling you under my care. Felt guilty about the whole thing," he said and paused, then continued with a sigh "To be frank, I always thought I'd be a terrible parent for you, you're much like your father and turns out your similarities didn't end at the positive aspects of your personalities. I'm always terrible at keeping my attention to more than one thing at a time, you know that, right?"

I nodded.

"Knew I should've had some second caretaker to take care of that, but I didn't, because I felt it had to be a mother figure and so I had to involve myself in romance, and I hated the thought of being in a romantic relationship. I just couldn't find anyone attractive or someone I want to be beyond friends with and romantic gestures always felt off or horrifying to me. This is not an excuse of course, I should have gotten you a second… better caretaker other than myself, or maybe I should've tried harder. I felt like I needed to prove something and I failed miserably, because you… I felt like… I ruined you, and I'm so afraid to lose you like I did my brother. He wasn't very happy either, even if like you he used to be happy, then a lot of things happened and he ended up… lost…"

There's that upset tone I didn't like hearing from him, he's taking it so hard on himself even though he did nothing wrong, he couldn't have done anything wrong… I hugged him from the side. He responded by looking down at my saucepan and feeling even more guilty as he continued.

"And I know… I know you'd say it's not my fault, that I didn't do anything, but my lack of doing anything for you is the problem, and I'm so sorry it had to come to this for me to apologize. You care so much and I couldn't possibly return it sufficiently, and you keep blaming yourself or hiding away when you should've kicked me into thinking about you more. I'm so sorry for nearly forgetting about you when we launched, for hiding away from the Hemulen and leaving you, for not helping you when Edward destroyed our home, for making you do any of this… for leaving you alone far too much…" he sniffed and rubbed his eyes, his voice started to get croaky from the tears and the sore throat he was developing for talking more than he's used to "I'm so sorry it took getting to this point for me to realize. Now we're stuck in the middle of nowhere and being at the mercy of the sea… I didn't… I don't…" Hodgkins stuttered, having difficulty in coming up with what to say next "I don't want you to misconstrued any of this and pin it on yourself, please. You've done it enough already and it doesn't help anyone or yourself, I want… need you to accept that what I've been doing was purely my fault and I should've done better, not the other way around, alright?"

… I hugged him a little tighter, I didn't want to hear any of this, I felt so bad for him, I didn't want to accept what he said, I didn't want him to feel bad for being the way he is. He held my arm and rubbed it with his thumb sadly.

"You keep hurting yourself over things that aren't your fault and I don't want you to continue like this. You're anything but a burden or a mistake and you deserve any amount of space that you need, not just the bare minimum…" he gulped and seemed hesitant to say something else "Please come to me for any reason as much as you need, you wouldn't bother me one bit and don't dare consider yourself a pest when you do, alright?"

It took a while for me to consider it, I didn't want any of that… I felt terrible for everything Hodgkins just said, I didn't think I'd make him feel any of that sort of way. Was I really hurting myself over nothing? Did I really deserve better…?

It was tiring to feel terrible all the time, I must admit, still, I felt like I deserved it, but… maybe. Maybe I could at least try. I nodded, and we both sat there quietly, perhaps feeling as if we took a step of sorts. It was… nice...

It was nice.

[flowerbloom-arts]

Omnishambles

Prologue

In which it describes the events leading up to the terrible case of the Invisible Muddler.

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Next chapter

[Note: This is a reupload of a fanfic I did a while ago with fixed errors and new illustrations in preparation for a part 2. The chapter is 3 thousand words long and involves the Oshun Oxtra including the Nibling, this story takes place after the Nibling had chewed off the anchor rope to the Oshun Oxtra and the river-boat is sailing to sea. No major angst to note until the very end. Will be following the canon of Moominpappa's Memoirs (1969 edition) with some extra outside information from other moomin media and headcanons. Canon divergent (for obvious reasons). The next chapter will be switching to a 1st person perspective unlike the 3rd person perspective in this chapter, which is why I dubbed this a prologue.]

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It was only very recently that the Oshun Oxtra had lost its anchor and set off to the great blue beyond of which Muddler felt ill to think the sheer vastness of, let alone of the things that lurk beneath the blue-green tinted darkness that stared back at him whenever he looked over the railing. Despite his best judgements and his wisdom, he couldn't help but be pulled toward the side of the ship every now and then just to peer into the sea that his uncle and apparently his father were fond of in concept. His imagination (which is very little imagination, as according to most creatures) couldn't help but drift to picturing the unimaginable horrors that could live in the cold, empty, salty void that only the boat could be protecting him from. It was a guilty pastime between reorganizing and re-reorganizing his collection as he so often does, despite his obvious fear of the vast entity and his own imagination.

"See anything in the water?" asked the young stowaway Nibling from behind, indeed the one who had chewed off the river-boat's anchor in the middle of two nights ago "How come you keep looking over there?" he continued asking and approached the Muddler, too short to look over the railing himself.

The Muddler snapped away from his thoughts and looked down at the Nibling with embarrassment and even confusion at his own actions "O- oh, excuse me! I'm sorry! I'm not... I don't see anything, as of yet, I'm just checking the waters just in case... You- you know how there can be dangerous things in there, right? Have to keep an eye out!"

"Uh...huh," the Nibling replied with a small hesitant nod and trotted his way to the Muddler's Maxwell House Coffee™ tin in small, sticky steps.

Muddler's gaze followed the Nibling and was all too concerned about why he would go there, not wanting to seem rude, he silently followed the Nibling, making sure not to step on the Nibling's trail lest his gloved feet get stuck — or be left without footwear. The Nibling tried to claw up the tin with his small paws and Muddler simply crossed his arms and said "I'm... I'm sorry but I'm not going to let you inside the tin again! You made my playing cards into collage art and my silverware into a plate just from walking on them! I'm not sure if I can let you do something like that again...!" and suddenly guilt welled up in his meek conscience, he uncrossed his arms and held his mouth "Excuse me! Sorry! I hope that didn't seem too rude, Mr. Nibling..."

"I suppose that is fair, but I don't know how I can help it like I can't help from gnawing on the big rope! It's something I'm built with!" cried the Nibling.

"But the least you could do is try to learn from it and avoid it, right...? Try not bothering- I mean, stepping on things too much? Maybe I could find you a pair of socks you could wear while you're on board?" the Muddler offered.

"Do you think that would work?" replied the Nibling.

"We'll have to try! Though it might be a while before I could find a pair small enough for you... Don't suppose I hoarded some from when I was much smaller..." the Muddler pondered to himself before entering the tin.

The Nibling waited very eagerly as metallic and other sorts of noises clicked and banged from inside the enormous coffee tin, intermingled with Muddler's undecipherable mumbling and wordless exclamations. The eagerness subsided as it was clear this really was meant to take a while as Muddler hypothesized, so the Nibling eventually just sat beside the tin and waited patiently for the Muddler to return from his journey through the condensed junkyard found within the tin.

All the while, Hodgkins, the Muddler's aforementioned uncle and captain of this river-boat, and the Moomin, a very new person who had entered their lives and seemed much more interested in interacting with the captain more than anything, were holding operations and chatting in the pilot-house (it was more of a one-sided conversation with Moomin taking the lead, but still). Moomin was proudly steering the boat as Hodgkins made fixes and adjustments in the small tower, as the man much preferred to occupy himself with tweaking every little thing to his creation to make sure things run as smoothly as it can, especially as a river-boat was not meant to sail across the sea, it'd be safer if the Oshun Oxtra was more prepared as it went on.

They would also still need to ration their food and other supplies for this sort of trip. Hodgkins would have to warn Muddler, the crew's chef, cleaner and other things, about having to minimize the consumption and usage of the food supply in their meals, but of course they would have to take into account their food going bad, contamination, having an extra mouth to possibly feed, a plan B in case of miscalculation... Goodness, why did that Nibling have to stowaway and ruin everything like this? These are far too many variables to consider just for food of all things, they'd also have to worry about clean water and sanitation and potential danger and morale or sanity, most of which Hodgkins barely has a proper grasp on to even begin thinking of them!

"Wouldn't you think so, Hodgkins?" Moomin's voice suddenly broke through the train of thought.

"Hm?" Hodgkins turned around to face Moomin, utterly lost as to what he was talking about.

"Oh, perhaps I didn't speak too clearly- I meant that exploring such a vast place such as the ocean would be great for our prospects of being adventurers, right?" Moomin elaborated. And that was quite literally the opposite side of perspective from what Hodgkins was thinking of.

"Not quite," Hodgkins answered, attention going to the map of the pilot-house's wall "Considering all the practicalities that come with it. The danger. Can't even be sure where we could be..." he landed a knee on the couch beneath the map and tried to pinpoint their location with his finger, he circled the North Sea as he was aware they were leaving the east of England, so it figures they would be in that particular part of the world "We're somewhere here, I think. Might be close to our country, hard to tell. The area is too large to pinpoint, still, very likely rife with sea-monsters, or storms... I'm no expert," Hodgkins shrugged "We have to be prepared, don't want my nephew or Joxter or you to get hurt."

Moomin looked at Hodgkins and asked "What about you?"

"That, too," he replied and sat on the couch "Eyes where you're steering, Moomin."

"Oh, aye Captain!" Moomin turned around toward the window, suddenly he noticed some dark clouds over the horizon and felt uneasy. He checked the barometer at his side. "Hodgkins, I believe there might be a storm approaching if my eyes don't deceive me..."

Hodgkins tilted his head and noticed the dark clouds approaching, his ear flicked and he stood up "I'll consult Joxter, see if he has any input," he said and approached the door.

"Are you really going to think that Joxter would know how to tell the future?" Moomin said impatiently.

"Just for a gist, I trust his forebodings," Hodgkins replied and left. He could hear Moomin mumbling something under his breath before shutting the door.

Hodgkins went to Muddler's tin, ignored the Nibling sitting beside it and knocked on the lid for Muddler himself to peer out, Hodgkins leaned sideways to look his nephew in the eye "Storm approaching, need Joxter's opinion," he said and lifted the lid up.

"Oh gosh! A storm?" exclaimed the Muddler and got out "I'm sorry that I couldn't find socks for you, Nibling, but this seems important!" he apologized.

"It's alright! Storms are pretty scary, I think. I'd leave finding socks to do something else, too," the Nibling said and turned the corner to look worriedly toward the dark clouds approaching, and gulped.

Hodgkins basically drags Muddler by the arm as the poor creature seemed so horrified at the sight of it that he froze, but of course he stumbled in the direction Hodgkins was leading him, which was below deck.

Joxter had been sleeping in the, well, sleeping quarters for a few hours now as he usually did. He heard the two approaching from above and slightly lifted his hat to see what they were intending to do there. Hodgkins nudged Muddler to approach Joxter, which he did.

"Hey, sorry to wake you, Joxter..." Muddler said sheepishly.

"It's quite alright," he replied gently and sat up from his bed "Is anything the matter?"

"There's... There's a storm coming, I think, and we hope that you might know how bad it's going to be? Please?" Muddler answered. Joxter held a finger up to his chin with a very non-serious expression on his face "Joxter! This is serious!" Muddler added, unamused by this attempt at humour.

"Alright! Goodness!" Joxter said and got down from his bed, he walked past Hodgkins and said "Hullo to you too, captain Hodgkins," with a sarcastic salute jabbing at the lack of greeting from him. Hodgkins rolled his eyes and the three of them went above deck together, the storm noticeably being closer than before "Yep, that seems like an awful storm coming soon..." Joxter commented before a pain pierced his nose.

"Ah! Fiddlesticks!" he exclaimed painfully, holding his face "MMM... YES! Darn it! This will be an awful one indeed!" he cried. Muddler held Joxter worriedly and tried to hug his arm.

"I should get inside the tin, then-"

"I wouldn't recommend getting in the tin for protection, dear," Joxter interrupted Muddler and looked at him with a serious expression, then looked up at the sky cautiously.

Moomin broke the door open "The barometer is getting seriously low!" he yelled, looking (metaphorically) pale.

"I'll be steering," Hodgkins mildly yelled back and climbed the stairs to the pilot house "The rest of you go below deck until this is over."

"Excuse me! But what about the coffee tin!?" Muddler cried to his uncle.

"Afraid it can't be brought with you," Hodgkins said, and he was being very truthful in this as the stairway's entrance couldn't fit the coffee tin even if they somehow managed to carry it there.

"NO!!!" screamed the Muddler.

Joxter held Muddler as he squirmed to approach Hodgkins "It will be alright!" he said, he proceeded to escort Muddler below deck. Moomin followed thereafter but not without giving Hodgkins a concerned look.

Hodgkins grabbed the steering wheel and then noticed the sticky sensation on the floor as he stepped on it, he turned around and saw the Nibling was sitting on the couch behind him "Since... When did you get here?" he asked.

"Since Muddler left with you," Nibling answered candidly.

Hodgkins stared at the Nibling for a few seconds, then shook his head and looked forward at the storm.

Below deck, the three crewmates were waiting for the storm to pass. Joxter smoked and played solitaire with his deck of cards, Moomin was pacing around the room, and Muddler sat balled up in the corner of the room, anxious for both his uncle and his coffee tin. This went on with quiet uneasiness and downright paranoia for a few minutes before the boat started noticeably swaying and ruined Joxter's game, though he merely shrugged off the loss as bigger priorities were in order. The crew could hear the coffee tin gliding across the ceiling in all sorts of directions above their heads, which didn't do much aside from giving the Joxter and Moomin a sense of how much the boat is swaying and putting Muddler on the verge of a heart attack. This went on for several long minutes until Muddler couldn't bear the sound or thought anymore and decided to go above despite the others' urgent warning and his own better judgement.

The door to the exit was dripping with water and, with a shaky paw, Muddler opened it to witness the great rainstorm and raging tides that swayed the river-boat unfit for such weather. Muddler trembled and tried to lift himself up and saw his tin sliding past. Overcome with a near-animalistic impulse to protect his collection, he almost ran after it before his uncle yelled at him asking what he was doing there and that he told him to stay below deck. Muddler suddenly felt regret strike him through the spine but his attention was overcome with the priority of his tin above even himself. It was a cartoonish goose chase around the deck as the Muddler would trip before catching his tin and his uncle was simply trying his best to keep the ship from capsizing.

Muddler finally managed to hold onto his tin in a moment of sudden calm and relief. The storm was fading into a shower, the weather became brighter, and Muddler was gasping for air from exhaustion.

He seemed proud of himself for such a foolish venture, he beat the storm and made it out intact, he didn't lose anything, he was fine, everything was fine. He's alright. There's nothing he should be afraid of anymore. Muddler could slip and hit the ground comfortably knowing that the tin is safe.

The boat jostled and then a large thing which seemed like a dark pillar or a tentacle shot out by the boat's side from underwater and threw everyone on the boat in the air, including the coffee tin. The pillar retreated back into the sea and so did the boat violently rock from side to side. The coffee tin flew across the boat, hit the railing and before Muddler could catch up to it, it slid off into the depths, the lid opened and everything sank into the unknown darkness right before Muddler's eyes.

The boat finally stabilized again. The last few droplets from the big finale landed. Muddler stood frozen over the railing, arms reaching out below, breathing heavily, eyes widened.

Muddler was in shock.

What happened? What was that? Why? Questions echoed in his head. The thoughts were akin to a small child asking innocent questions about the event, and then it quickly descended into accusatory madness trying to come up with an answer himself. In only a few seconds his mind was barking a thousand hateful reasons as to why this happened to him, all pointing at him as the blame, all overwhelming him with spite, he didn't like it. The thoughts hounded him like rabid dogs, saying that this was a punishment for his misdeeds and idiocy, screaming that this was his inevitability after so long, and others would squeak back questions of whys and hows. These thoughts would clash and yell over each other, echoing and repeating, growling and seething, whirling and reeling, they mangled every corner of his consciousness and left no room to breathe, all weeping and wrecking every shred of love he had within him.

It wasn't only the loss of his coffee tin that made this happen; something similar happened with the loss of Hodgkins' house to the foot of Edward the Booble, but at the very least it was the tangible fault of someone else, and he had his things and his family, then after a long while, after Hodgkins revealed his secret project, he almost choked him with a cogwheel over breakfast, then he painted the boat and got paint all over himself, then painted his tin, then he had to prepare for moving away from a home he's known his whole life, then almost suffocated and drowned in his tin during a river flood, then wished for the Groke to have eaten a hemulen and was promptly taken away by Niblings, then he couldn't make any use of himself, and now he lost his precious collection that kept him sane through all of this. What's next? Losing Hodgkins and Joxter?

His thoughts continued to scream at him, the uncohesive riot slowly gained organization and turned into an angry choir of 'you deserve this', he deserved it for being so dumb, he deserved it for all the things he did over his blurry childhood, for being a mistake of nature, he deserved it for making his uncle almost eat a cogwheel, he deserved it for not thinking ahead, he deserved it for wishing the Hemulen Aunt to be eaten, he deserved having everything taken away from him, parents, home, collection and soon, all. Existing felt like a painful thing after all of this. He just wants it to end now, this weight on his chest, this pain all over his mind and body, this oversensitivity toward everything, having to play both the angry parent and the hurt and guilty child at the same time. He pulled his thoughts together into a quiet desire to just disappear. To do a favor for everyone else and not bother them any longer. Dark, somewhat bloody tears flooded down his face (this is normal for him and his species, they have tears like dogs) like they do all the time when he feels this. He just wanted to go away, to leave everyone alone, to not have to deal with how he thinks or feels.

The dark clouds parted as the storm ended. Sunbeams shined through and lit up the Oshun Oxtra. Muddler, though, flickered in and out of visibility as the sun's rays expressed no desire to touch something so pathetic and undeserving of their light, and soon his face faded, then the rest of clothes, only leaving a floating saucepan in the air. Out of sight, out of mind, as the Muddler so quietly desired. But he was still physically present, he was there, you just couldn't see him.

Hodgkins rushed out the pilot-house and approached the floating pan where he witnessed Muddler disappear. He reached out a hesitant paw and felt Muddler's jacket where it was meant to be, but still couldn't see. The saucepan rotated in the air as if it turned to look at him, Hodgkins seemed completely lost in any of this "Muddler...?" he managed to let out very quietly, misty-eyed.

Joxter and Moomin get out below deck when they sensed the storm has passed, and Hodgkins tries his best to explain what happened without breaking down and admitting it was possibly his fault for letting his nephew down.