The Creatively-Named Fic Exchange

[downrightdude]

I shall begin soon-ith!

Edit: Wrote my first sentence!

[Moni]

Hello nerds! What's up!
Don't forget that the fic exchange ends in about a week! you need to get everything nice and polished then.
For reference, here are the participants... you're probably writing for one of them. enjoy!

?? (Moni)
The Glittery Pink Pencil (Ginz ❤)
Can Write With Dice Rolls (Thorn)
The Adventures of Twillie Blossom (Twillie)
An ecrivain that knows how to type accents (Liou)
Neopian Times Carrot Cake (downrightdude)

[Thorn]

Eek! For some reason I had it in my head the deadline was the sixteenth, haha. I've put on my best editor's hat and started polishing!

[Ginz ❤]

Hey, quick question... how do we 'submit' our fics? We post them here, I assume? Or do we PM them to you (Moni), or to the person we're writing for? Just want to make sure. XD;

[Moni]

Ginz ❤

Yep! You can just post it on the thread.

[downrightdude]

Almost done my entry!!

MY goal is to finish tonight!

[downrightdude]

*presents fancy package*

Time to commence le Grand Fic Exchange! The lucky person to receive Snaw's beautiful fic is Ginz ❤, who's darling origami Shoyru served as the main inspiration!

And since Moni said we can just post our stories here, here's la Snaw's:

SPOILER: Click to show

Origamigo looked up at the sky and smiled. What a beautiful day! the origami Shoyru thought as he strolled through the park, marveling the pink-blossomed trees that lined the path and littered the ground beneath him with their pink petals. It would have been much more fun if his owner Ginz was with him, as pink was her favorite colour. Since she couldn’t come today, Origamigo decided to bring her along some other day, preferably one that wasn't so cloudy.

Drip.

A small drop of water fell upon Origamigo’s head. He grimaced. Ginz had warned him a million times a least about being out in the rain, insisting such weather conditions were possibly life-threatening for origami pets. Unless you plan to bring an umbrella with you or are magically zapped into another non-fire based colour, do not go outside on cloudy days, Ginz had warned him.

Drip drip.

Panicking, Origamigo shielded his head with his hands and dashed to a nearby tree. He drew a sigh of relief, a weight lifted from his shoulders. Next to him, a blue Elephante cradled her baby as she watched a heavy flow of rain descend upon the park. "The weather reports said nothing about this sudden rain shower," she muttered.

The baby Elephante gurgled happily at Origamigo. Upon noticing the Origami Shyoru’s soggy head – which was beginning to sag towards the left – she asked, “Are you alright? This weather doesn't seem to be an appropriate time for a pet such as yourself to be out and about.”

Origamigo blushed. “Um...yeah well I...uh, should have paid more attention to the weather report.”

“It wouldn't have mattered,” the Elephante sniffed. With a flick of her wrist, she opened a purple umbrella and stepped into the storm, her baby waving goodbye.

Great, now what? Origamigo looked around, watching Neopians scuttle past with their gazes down and heads covered with umbrellas, damp newspapers or their own hands.

A yellow Kacheek with round spectacles hurried over, her blue rain boots splashing small puddles. “My stars, are you alright?” the stranger gasped. She pulled a dry newspaper from her blue raincoat. “Here, take this. It’s not a proper umbrella, but it’ll do in a pinch.”

Origamigo blushed as he held the open-faced newspaper over his head. “Thanks.” He chuckled nervously. “I, uh, should have prepared for this.”

After the Kacheek walked away, Origamigo took a deep breath and, newspaper still draped over him, cautious stepped into the downpour and speed-walked out of the park. He was thankful for the new waterproof shoes Ginz bought for him; they were from the NC Mall, and they made the most wonderful pair of rain-shoes any Origami pet could hope for.

The path Origamigo chose seemed to be a surprisingly long, winding one that seemed to stretch as far as he could see. No longer was the park filled with pink cherry trees: the view was all grey and foggy, with all the trees hidden behind a black-grey screen of smog. The newspaper had soaked through by now, leaving Origamigo’s head feeling the weight of fallen raindrops. I gotta find some shade! he thought, panicking as he struggled to find the best place to rest.

“Kumblooga!” A stranger wearing a fancy feathered hat unicycle past Origamigo, splashing his left leg.

Origamigo groaned, feeling the chill coming from his left leg before it turned limp and numb. Finally noticing a gazebo he could take shelter in, Origamigo limped towards his white-roofed haven, releasing a full-blown sigh of relief as he sank onto a stone bench. The space above his forehead was sagging to the side now, and he left leg was still refusing to move. Origamigo looked around the gazebo’s stone-grey interior, dismayed to find it empty. “Well, at least things can't possibly get any worse,” he proclaimed aloud. “Although I’m unsure what to do about my leg.”

“Salisbury! Mango! Banana! Banana!” The weirdo in the beautiful hat wheeled past the gazebo, this time tossing a dark object at the entrance.

Curious, Origamigo forced himself up and limped towards it. He gasped as he picked up the black umbrella and opened it, shaking off as many raindrops as he could. Just then the yellow Kacheek from before entered the gazebo, a squirmy Warf in her arms. She waved and said, “My, what a pleasant surprise!”

Origamigo nodded. “The rain’s coming down really hard. Come to hide for a while?”

The Kacheek nodded and took a seat on the opposite bench. “My name’s Millie, and my Warf’s name so Russell.”

“He’s such a cute lil’ guy,” Origamigo gushed as he rubbed the Warf’s belly. “And Millie, thanks for the newspaper. It was a tremendous help.”

“Are you sure? You seem pretty wet.” Millie frowned. “Plus I saw you limping over here.”

Origamigo began scratching Russell behind his ears. “Yeah, my leg got soaked after some unicyclist splashes me. But don’t worry; my leg will be dried in a few hours, at least. Then I’ll be back to normal.”

“It must be difficult being an origami pet,” Millie remarked, staring out at the ongoing downpour.

“Actually, it’s so bad,” Origamigo insisted. “Although I’ll never be an expert swimmer or be caught outside in the rain, everything else is pretty okay.” He flapped his wings. “I’m still a pretty good flyer, you know.”

Russell barked, and Millie fell into a fit of giggles. Origamigo chuckled, finding his shyness fading more quickly. While Russell ran around the gazebo barking at who-knows-what, the two pets discussed a variety of different subjects until bright streams of sunlight filtered into the gazebo. Mallie poked her head out and gasped at the sight of a clear blue sky and rays of bright sunshine illuminating the entire park. “May, we must been talking for ages!” she gasped.

“Well, I guess I won’t be needing this anymore,” Origamigo remarked, holding up the still-damp umbrella.

“Did somebody lend that to you,” asked Mallie.

Origamigo shrugged. “That stranger with the unicycle tossed it at me.”

Millie attached a leash to Russell's collar. “You can leave it at the park's lost and found if you want,” she suggested, ignoring her Warf’s attempt at escaping his leash. “Or take it home with you and put out an ad in the NT.” She gazed down at Origamigo feet. “Will you be okay walking home by yourself?”

“Oh yeah, I’ll be fine.” Origamigo stood, knowing fully well he may need to fly home in his state. “It was nice meeting you, Millie! And bye Russell!” He waved at the Warf, who was viciously chewing on his leash.

“Bye!” Millie smiled and walked away.

Origamigo flapped his wings and headed towards a shining rainbow that arched over the park. It’s still a beautiful day, he remarked, marveling the scenery below him and the rainbow was passing through. That rainstorm may have been a hurdle, but the rainbow it produced was definitely worth it!

***

“Thank goodness you’re home safe and sound!” Ginz embraced Origamigo with a squeeze. “Now come in the kitchen for some milk and cookies!”

Origamigo gasped when he noticed the stranger from the park sitting at the table, juggling three cookies. “Is he a friend of yours?” he whispered.

“He’s a member of the writing group I’m part of,” Ginz explained. “Remember that story exchange we were doing? Well Snaw, our guest, was writing a story for me!” Snaw stood on his chair and began dancing.

Origamigo handed him the umbrella he’s lent. “Thanks a lot.”

Snaw took the umbrella and began twirling it.

“So Origamigo, how was the park?” Ginz sat down, narrowing her eyes at her Shoyru. “I couldn’t help but notice there was a peculiar little rainstorm today, and then I recalled a certain particular Shoyru forgot to bring along his umbrella….you known the purple Poogle-shaped one.”

“Yeah, I know what you’re saying,” said Origamigo. “It’s actually a pretty funny story.” He took a bite of cookie and a sip of milk. “The day started out nice and sunny, and there were lots of pretty cherry trees at the park too.”

Ginz gasped. “Were they PINK???”

Origamigo nodded. Now he was certain his owner would enjoy seeing them up close! “Any who, everything was fine and dandy until I felt some wet falling from the suddenly cloudy sky…”

The end.

[Moni]

Ginz ❤ Thorn Twillie Liou

well! it's a few hours to go before the event ends! please try to get your stuff in on time. i'm not going to be on your case if it's a day late or so, but please try not to do that.

also remember that it's a pretty cool thing to comment on somebody else's work! even if you don't have the DEEPTHOUGHTS, just a simple expression of something you liked is completely fine! you're in a fic exchange, not a SUPERCOOL MOVIE REVIEW.

i do ask that you keep these comments on-forum, as not everybody is in the discord!

[Thorn]

I will defs comment! I'm out with me dad right now but I got time to read most of Snaw's already, and am finding it super cute!

Will do final edits and post mine when I get home.

[Moni]

OKAY I DONE

this one was for Liou. sort of a solo talsindra fic. it's very fanficcy sorta, i totally do not expect most details here to actually be canon for tally.

SPOILER: Click to show

The sun shined brightly overheard, and no matter how many times that happened, it was hard to get used to. From underneath the awning, Tally blinked away the tears eyes and squinted into the crowds of the town square.

Down there, they told stories about the sun. It would bleach your skin until it burned away, they said, yet another reason to fight against the Everqueen. They said she had cast her sister and her followers, the drow, with a fervent injustice, one that could only be corrected once the surface-dwellers perished.

Tally put her arm out in the sunlight.

She used to think she was born bleached, that her freckles crept up on her face like some contagious pox, perhaps from some stray ray that somehow pierced the underground. Maybe that portended her defection.

Maybe it meant absolutely nothing, because the sun sometimes harmed the surface elves much more than it harmed her. Still, a good story was always hard to forget, and like the underground child she used to be, Tally stood still and imagined.

Shadows flitted around passersby as they ambled along. These transient scraps of darkness stood clear against the blinding light. She used to recognize surfacers more by their shadows than their actual appearance. Their stretching and bending and elongating and contracting made the world seem more fantastical than it really was.

But the surface was quite normal. Perhaps she’d just gotten used to the fantastic. The masters said there was no difference, anyway. Wonder was all over the world; you just forgot how to look at it.

The shadows might have indeed still been wonderful: thieves, in Tally’s plain sight, walked across them, illuminated clear as night. Nobody here thought to hide in the sun. At least, nobody she should have been worried about.

So Tally looked out into the bright sun again. Someone could be out there, she thought. Who? The whole world, she supposed. People from the underground who hadn’t come to their senses. Regular surface elves. She tranced sometimes and dreamt of the Shadow Queen’s hand phasing through the ground and pulling her down, far down.

Stories, she reminded herself. That’s what Izzy would say to remind her. They’re just stories.

After a few dozen minutes of quiet meditation, Tally stepped out into the square again. The sun had dipped lower into the horizon, and the spiraling trees overhead shielded her from its light.

She twirled her staff ostentatiously as she declared that she would have a friendly sparring challenge with whomever wanted to—for a price, of course. Nothing came for free.

Most challengers lost to a flashy display of athleticism. That was the trick, she found. You needed to find some way to make your opponents happy when they (usually) lost. And what better way to make them happy than with an entertaining maneuver?

As yet another woof elf stepped up to challenge Tally, something changed. The elven guard flashed a smile and Tally returned it to her robotically.

She looked to her left, then her right, forwards and backwards, top to bottom. The harsh sunlight had dimmed a little more, but that was about it.

“Something wrong?” asked the guard.

“No,” Tally replied. Then, out of the littlest corner of her eye, she saw something flicker, and when she turned to face it, it was gone. “Well, actually, yes. Uh, I apologize for the inconvenience, but I am closing right this moment; if you have any complaints or feedback, please mail them to me later.”

In one motion, Tally collected her earnings, snatched her bo staff that was leaning against a bark wall, and departed. She had left faster than her thoughts would allow, because by the time she flipped and cartwheeled around the crowd to reach the source of the noise, she remembered that she did not leave behind a mailing address.

“Just address it to the lords!” she yelled, jumping so her waving hand could be seen by the guard she’d abandoned. “Say it’s for Talsindra!”

The search continued. The flicker had moved to an alley in-between two shops. Tally, always one for flair, vaulted from the horizontal beams from which the signs hung and onto the rooftops. From here, she hoped to gain a better vantage point to track whatever she was tracking.

Perhaps they were a thief of some sort, or a golem coming to watch her. She’d remembered hearing of small observer golems, sometime, somewhere.

Alas, the thing had already darted into another alleyway, carefully concealed by descending stone rooftops. Tally jumped across a few wooden rooftops and made almost no sound doing so, except for a few light smacks. This may have disturbed the residents or clients of the area; she couldn’t take any chances.

“Sorry!” she yelled to the baffled bystanders below. “Please address all complaints and feedback to the lords! Write it in saying it’s for Talsindra!”

She slid down the stone roof and into another alley which did not leave any room for more acrobatics. The roof closed it off.

Here, the sun did not burn her eyes at all, and in the shadows she found the flicker, and coming from the flicker was the flapping of two wings. One seemed to be in perfect shape; the other seemed to have something wrong with it.

Oh.

She inched toward the squeaking creature. It tried to fly off in vain.

“Hello, little bat,” she said soothingly. “You seem to be hurt. Okay, well… you should try to relax.”

The bat did not seem to understand her. Instead, it flapped its wings as hard as it could, floated a little off the ground, and landed on the moss with a dull thud. It moved more before giving up entirely.

Tally gently brought her hands around the bat as if she were about to grasp a vase made of spider silk. The bat squealed and hissed. It even tried to bite the area between her index finger and thumb.

“Okay, now, calm down. It’s okay, it’s okay.”

She didn’t know if this were helping at all. If she had some fruit on her, maybe it would have been easier to put the bat at ease, or perhaps not. It seemed to be in a lot of pain. Now that the wing was closer, it was easier to see a single deep scratch across the injured wing.

“Poor fellow,” she said, “flying must have hurt you more. Speaking of which… you are not meant to fly around at this hour, are you?”

The bat’s ears suddenly flickered upwards.

“Yeah, you’re supposed to be out at night, right? You guys live in the dark. In the forest somewhere with your friends. I’m sure they miss you, but I don’t know if I should put you back there… oh! I know somebody who could help you!”

Tally made her way to the nearest animal-keeper. They would take the best course of action, and they would not rely on hearsay.

Or on mere stories.

***

A bevy of various letters were delivered to the Lords of Ur Zaihar, Murai and Lu’hais. The two wood elves gawked as they stared at the sheer amount of times they read:

MAIL TO THE LORDS
REGARDING TALSINDRA

“Do you think these are legitimate complaints?” asked Murai, grabbing a letter.

“Well,” Lu’hais began, skimming through one she had already opened, “it appears as though they are asking what this new ‘Talsindra’ government program is, and why we have not announced it yet.”

“Talsindra?” asked Murai, momentarily forgetting that it was Tally’s full name.

“Like Ambassador Talsindra.”

“Right.”

“It does sound like a nice and official government program, yes? A good bureaucracy to add to solve some existing social problem. The Talsindra bureau.” Lu’hais shrugged. “It could be good.”

In the interest of halting bureaucratic bloat, the Department of Talsindra for Managing Talsindra was never put into place.

[Thorn]

This story is for Moni ! The file was titled: 'fic exchange for Moni: draft 3.'
Hope you like! I know Daniel is probably not ultra In Character, it's been a while!

SPOILER: Click to show

It was a perfectly ordinary day in the life of the perfectly ordinary Firefly Ma- err, Daniel. My, with this winter coat and that scarf, nobody would ever guess his true heroic identity! He could be a perfectly ordinary, boring human living a perfectly boring, ordinary human life full of...coffee, and office blocks, and treadmills.

Exactly the way he liked it.

There Daniel was; walking along, minding his own business and busily dissolving a sandwich, when someone noisily clanged off the wall beside him and spun into his path. A distressingly handsome man, clad in chain mail and blue cloth, barred his way. He levelled his sword at Daniel’s chest and all Daniel could do was stare. Something was still using swords? In this day and age? It wasn’t even a cool trendy sword-cane. 

It looked sharp. He’d known it was a bad idea to enter this dark alley alone.

“What else could he, or it, or whatever, possibly be? It’s not one of those nonsense fey-beings- look at its eyes!” the armed maniac exclaimed.

“Its shoulders are twice as wide as its hips. Clearly demonic,” a second voice asserted.

Daniel whipped around. While the first man was attractive, astoundingly so, with a neatly trimmed beard and hair that was a truly fetching degree of wild, this second man was...well human, probably. It was much easier to look at the sword now resting across one shoulder. But oh crap, that was a wicked looking sword. At least it seemed clean- Daniel didn’t particularly want to find out if he could contract tetanus.

He’d known it was a bad idea to enter a dark alley alone, and now he was starting to think it would have been better to bear the cold than wear this coat. If only he could fly away, escape would be oh so simple! Alas, his wings were pinned beneath a heavy layer of wool and polyester blend.

“I’m Fireflyman!” he exclaimed, flinging both arms up in the air. “You probably don’t recognise me with the coat, right? I’m one of the good guys. Unless...oh. Are you two the new villains? If so, take my advice and find a new shtick, because the knight thing was done last season, and uhhh three seasons before that, and-”

“Quiet,” snapped the guy with the scars, striking Daniel with the flat of his sword.

He and his companion shared a glance. While Daniel was still disoriented, the scarred man pulled him in close and set his sword across the firefly’s chest, wrenching one of Daniel’s arms high behind his back. The blue-man leaned in so that their noses were nearly touching, and Daniel distantly wondered if this upsettingly handsome but clearly insane chap had any concept at all of personal space.

“Get off me!” he swatted at the sword as it dug into his chest.

He succeeded only in slicing open his own hand. Daniel shoved a bleeding finger into his mouth. Good going.

“I wouldn’t try anything funny if I were you,” snapped the heartrendingly handsome man. “My partner here is crazy!”

“Yeah, I’m insane.”

“He can make this take all day! Do you want it to take all day?”

“This is a demon, Khamet. We don’t have to do this whole routine.”

“You usually love the routine,” the one called Khamet whined. “Now it knows my name.”

“Who cares? I’m going to kill it anyway.”

Khamet glared past Daniel, and the other man wrenched the unfortunate firefly’s arm a little higher. Daniel squeaked and tried to wriggle free. Where were the other heroes? Did they not realise that dark alleys were the precise place evildoers most liked to lurk? Where was Faust when he actually needed her? Or even one of the villains who were more a nuisance than anything and didn’t actually want Daniel dead?

“Please don’t kill me,” Daniel struggled to keep his voice level. “I’ll give you anything. Do you want money? Do you want on the show? I’ve changed my mind, knights- oww!”

“I don’t do shows,” the unnamed lunatic growled in his ear.

“And I don’t need your money, fiend!” Khamet spat. “Okay. Okay, we’re clearly off our game today, let’s just kill it and be done with all this. I’m sick of looking at its face.”

“Its fiendish saliva is eating through my glove.”

Belatedly, Daniel realised that he was dribbling in terror. He really needed to stop doing that: it wasn’t a good look for the cameras, and it was even less useful when he was being threatened by a pair of armed inquisitorial nutcases.

“Ugh, that’s so gross!” Khamet exclaimed. “Let’s put it out of our misery.”

“I’m really not a demon,” Daniel groaned, “but I’m starting to think you might be.”

His world spun as not-Khamet’s fist collided with his skull. Khamet caught the firefly-man as he fell back into his arms, unconscious. But not dead. Khamet was fairly certain of that much at least. Regardless of Cepith’s opinion on the matter, he wanted to draw this out a little. This was the first demon they’d encountered in months and he wanted to make it suffer for all the pain it had caused in this and every other world. That and he had no plans for the rest of his day and was expecting to grow very painfully bored, very quickly, once this was over and done with. 

But first, a formality. Khamet opened up his senses to be absolutely certain of its demonic nature, undeniably, once and for all. He suddenly froze.

“Uh, Cepith?”

“Mm?”

“Nothing infernal about this guy.”

“What?” Cepith’s eyes narrowed as he followed his companion’s lead. “Hmm. You might be right. That’s unfortunate.”

“When did we get so bad at our jobs?”

“He’s still alive,” the other pointed out. “No harm done.”

“You hit it- or him, I guess- in the face. I’m just uh, just gonna heal him up a bit. He really does look like a demon...what the hell is he, then? Some freak genetic experiment?”

“Probably. Bloody wizards.”

“I’m blaming Raia for not being here because, well, if she was here, she would have seen through this guy much quicker. How dare he pretend to be a demon? The nerve! He could have been killed, and it would have been all his fault- oh, and also Raia’s.”

“Probably some illegal magic involved,” Cepith posited. “Definitely her domain. When you think about it, we weren’t qualified for this task at all. It’s not as if we’re to blame, any more than one could blame a carpenter for failing to produce an award-winning clay sculpture.”

“Or a thief for failing at carpentry,” Khamet said. “Unless he’d seen the error of his ways and decided to pursue honest work. Some of them do, you know. See the error of their ways.”

He frowned to himself. “Hey, Cepith? Do you remember how we got here?”

Cepith was suddenly a lot more interested in the situation. “Not really, and that probably is demonic. We still have work to do.”

Khamet sheathed his sword. “Indeed we do! Let’s find this demon.”

This exchange has been so much fun, definitely something I'd be interested in if it was repeated some time!

[Twillie]

I should be able to post my story tonight! And yee, I'm excite to read everyone else's fics as they come =D

[downrightdude]

Jul 12, 2019 20:21:59 GMT -5 Thorn said:

I will defs comment! I'm out with me dad right now but I got time to read most of Snaw's already, and am finding it super cute!

Will do final edits and post mine when I get home.

Glad you're enjoying it, Ginz!

This fan-fic exchange has been kira yaba, though also a bit stressful. Still, it served as a cool writing exercise.

[Twillie]

Alrighty, get ready downrightdude for a fic all about Scary and friends! I hope everything here is faithful to the characters, and that you enjoy ^^

SPOILER: Click to show

“No no no no no!”

The sounds of distress ripped through the otherwise peaceful morning as Scary fumbled through her drawers.

“Where is it? Where’s any of it??”

As drawers opened and slammed shut at rapid speed, all the commotion attracted a small audience to Scary’s room. Her owner, Snaw, stood at the door, balancing a large basket of clothing atop his head as he beamed in her direction.

“The early Pteri catches the worm!” He said, bouncing the basket off of his head and into one of his open hands. “Or laundry, in this case.”

“What did you do??” Scary demanded, pointing to her empty clothing drawers and closet. She didn’t have any definitive reason to suspect Snaw of, well, anything yet, but upon seeing his face, she just knew he was up to something, and that it had to do with her missing clothes.

“Already got done with two loads today!” Snaw announced proudly.

“It’s only 7 in the morning,” Scary said dryly.

“It’s never too early for laundry!” As he spoke, Snaw grabbed some items of clothes from the basket and started to juggle them. “The best part of the day!”

“Is that where my clothes have gone, then?” The daggers in Scary’s gaze were almost tangible.

“In the washer now!”

“Even though I have school today??”

“Is everything alright?”

The head of a small pink Bruce poked out from the door frame as Sparkles joined the conversation.

“No, not now that this IDIOT has deprived me of anything fashionable!” Scary snapped in reply, a finger pointing accusingly in Snaw’s direction. “No designer skirts, no high end blouses, not even an NC sock left behind in his wake!”

“Ohh, laundry day, huh?” Upon saying this, Sparkles’ eyes suddenly lit up. “Wait, Scary! I’ve got some spare clothes tucked away, maybe you could borrow them for the day!”

Scary didn’t hold back her recoil of disgust. “You mean go outside in some frilly fashion more blinding than the sun? I’d be better off showing up to school wearing a barrel and a paper bag over my head.”

“Aww, c’mon, it’s always good to try something new!” Sparkles insisted, grabbing Scary’s handing and guiding her to her bedroom.

“I wouldn’t call it ‘new,’ more like a decade past its time,” Scary grumbled. She did not resist Sparkles’ dragging her through the house, though, for as much as she hated to admit it, actual clothes were indeed a better option than a barrel dress.

Once they reached Sparkles’ room, the pink Bruce wasted no time rustling through her closet and drawers to compose the perfect outfit for Scary.

“Oooh, this would probably fit you!” She exclaimed, tossing a pink garment Scary’s way, “And you gotta wear this with it! Oh oh, and this one would be perfect!”

It didn’t take long for Scary to be overwhelmed in an avalanche of pink, a tsunami of bright, garish color and sparkly fabric that was slowly but surely drowning her.

“Aww, this is so cute, I need to see this on you! Oh, and could you pretty please try this one on too? And this as well would be-”

“Sparkles!” Scary cut through her frantic gushing. “Stop, I don’t need all of this. I just…” She frantically tried to think of an excuse to swim out of this fashion deep end. “I just want to keep it si-si….” She shuddered as she tried to utter out her final word. “Let’s just keep the outfit simple.”

“Oh.” Sparkles’ elated expression faded away at these words, but not a split second passed before she grinned again and grabbed a nearby sweater. “Well then, this will do the trick!”

Please Fyora just don’t let this make me late to Neoschool, Scary thought to herself, slipping the sweater over her head.

***

The Neoschool building loomed ahead, but for the first time in as long as she could remember, Scary approached it with apprehension more than anything. She and Sparkles managed to find an outfit that could be inconspicuous enough so as to not turn heads in the hallway, although they still bore that dreaded pink Scary thought she’d never be caught dead in. She nervously pulled at the collar of her pink sweater and smoothed out the wrinkles in her skirt, and then with a deep breath pushed through the school doors with an assumed air of confidence.

No one at the school could know that Scary wasn’t feeling 110% after all, so she kept her head held high as she strutted down the hall. A couple of her peers stole glances her way now and then, but with a quick glare, Scary managed to avoid any unwanted comments. So far, so good. The pit of worry that had built inside her slowly began to subside as the morning went on, but when she reached her locker after first class, a new wave of unease washed over Scary at the sight of a note on her locker.

She pulled it off to take a closer look, reading:

Life is suffering
But now I know
The reason for this pain
Is because of your tacky clothes.

“Tacky!?” Scary couldn’t help but shout aloud.

Her head immediately darted every which way, hoping to catch sight of the note perpetrator. No one stood out among the crowd as watching Scary from afar or having a suspicious air to them, and she turned back to the note thinking of a new approach.

Who in this school would write in such dumb poetry as this?

At the word “poetry,” the answer clicked in Scary’s head.

Gerald.

***

The sound of light guitar strums came to Scary’s ears as she stormed towards the grey Aisha, who moodily looked up from his instrument as she approached him.

“You’ve changed,” he muttered.

“Like I care what you think!” She retorted, fuming. She pulled out the note from her locker, shoving it in Gerald’s face. “This look familiar to you?”

“Yeah, I saw your outfit this morning, and the only way I could put down my feelings was through verse.” He played a few chords on his guitar. “I knew you were a part of consumerist society, but I didn’t realize you’d lose your whole soul to it.” He made an up-and-down glance at Scary’s outfit. “Wearing clothes you don’t even like to try and fit in with the societal construct of ‘fashion trends.’ You’ve really sold out.”

“First of all, I had no choice since my clothes were all gone and I had to borrow these!” Scary snapped at him, “And second, if you actually knew what you were talking about, you’d realize that these clothes haven’t been in style since you first started to crawl! Moron.”

“Whatever.” Gerald pushed himself off of the wall he was leaning on, turning away from Scary and towards his band room locker. “It’s sad to see you like this.” He tucked his guitar away, locking it as he turned back to Scary. “But I’ve got class.”

“Hmph, good riddance,” Scary grumbled, crossing her arms with a pout.

Gerald left her in her spot, where she refused to move for the next few minutes. Thoughts still seething in her mind, Scary stole a glance towards Gerald’s locker where his precious guitar was stored. An idea started to form, and Scary’s face went from disgruntled to excited as she suddenly unfolded her arms and bolted out of the room.

“Sparkles!” Scary homed in on the pink Bruce in the hallway, excitedly grabbing her arm as she panted, “Sparkles, quick, I need your help!”

***

“Oh, and this would look lovely on it! A little dash of this, and ooh can’t forget the glitter!”

Scary simply stood back with arms folded and a smirk as she watched Sparkles work. Little did Gerald know not only about Scary’s uncanny lockpicking skills, but that the arsenal that had pink-ified her own fashion wasn’t limited to just clothing.

“I’m so glad you’ve grown to love the outfit, Scary!” Sparkles beamed up at her, “I told you trying new things would be good!”

“What can I say? When you’re right, you’re right, Sparkles.” The smug look hadn’t left from Scary’s face.

“And I didn’t realize you played guitar! That’s so cute that you want it to match your new look!”

“The pinker and glittery-er, the better.” Scary admired Sparkles’ handiwork: Gerald’s usually-black guitar now covered in bright colors and puffy stickers of images like rainbows and flying Uni. She could count on Sparkles to always have such girly supplies on hand.

“You know what else I’ve learned today, Sparkle?”

“Hm, what’s that?”

“The early Pteri may take from you in the morning, but that doesn’t mean the whole day is lost.”

[downrightdude]

Jul 13, 2019 0:35:54 GMT -5 Twillie said:

Alrighty, get ready downrightdude for a fic all about Scary and friends! I hope everything here is faithful to the characters, and that you enjoy ^^

SPOILER: Click to show

“No no no no no!”

The sounds of distress ripped through the otherwise peaceful morning as Scary fumbled through her drawers.

“Where is it? Where’s any of it??”

As drawers opened and slammed shut at rapid speed, all the commotion attracted a small audience to Scary’s room. Her owner, Snaw, stood at the door, balancing a large basket of clothing atop his head as he beamed in her direction.

“The early Pteri catches the worm!” He said, bouncing the basket off of his head and into one of his open hands. “Or laundry, in this case.”

“What did you do??” Scary demanded, pointing to her empty clothing drawers and closet. She didn’t have any definitive reason to suspect Snaw of, well, anything yet, but upon seeing his face, she just knew he was up to something, and that it had to do with her missing clothes.

“Already got done with two loads today!” Snaw announced proudly.

“It’s only 7 in the morning,” Scary said dryly.

“It’s never too early for laundry!” As he spoke, Snaw grabbed some items of clothes from the basket and started to juggle them. “The best part of the day!”

“Is that where my clothes have gone, then?” The daggers in Scary’s gaze were almost tangible.

“In the washer now!”

“Even though I have school today??”

“Is everything alright?”

The head of a small pink Bruce poked out from the door frame as Sparkles joined the conversation.

“No, not now that this IDIOT has deprived me of anything fashionable!” Scary snapped in reply, a finger pointing accusingly in Snaw’s direction. “No designer skirts, no high end blouses, not even an NC sock left behind in his wake!”

“Ohh, laundry day, huh?” Upon saying this, Sparkles’ eyes suddenly lit up. “Wait, Scary! I’ve got some spare clothes tucked away, maybe you could borrow them for the day!”

Scary didn’t hold back her recoil of disgust. “You mean go outside in some frilly fashion more blinding than the sun? I’d be better off showing up to school wearing a barrel and a paper bag over my head.”

“Aww, c’mon, it’s always good to try something new!” Sparkles insisted, grabbing Scary’s handing and guiding her to her bedroom.

“I wouldn’t call it ‘new,’ more like a decade past its time,” Scary grumbled. She did not resist Sparkles’ dragging her through the house, though, for as much as she hated to admit it, actual clothes were indeed a better option than a barrel dress.

Once they reached Sparkles’ room, the pink Bruce wasted no time rustling through her closet and drawers to compose the perfect outfit for Scary.

“Oooh, this would probably fit you!” She exclaimed, tossing a pink garment Scary’s way, “And you gotta wear this with it! Oh oh, and this one would be perfect!”

It didn’t take long for Scary to be overwhelmed in an avalanche of pink, a tsunami of bright, garish color and sparkly fabric that was slowly but surely drowning her.

“Aww, this is so cute, I need to see this on you! Oh, and could you pretty please try this one on too? And this as well would be-”

“Sparkles!” Scary cut through her frantic gushing. “Stop, I don’t need all of this. I just…” She frantically tried to think of an excuse to swim out of this fashion deep end. “I just want to keep it si-si….” She shuddered as she tried to utter out her final word. “Let’s just keep the outfit simple.”

“Oh.” Sparkles’ elated expression faded away at these words, but not a split second passed before she grinned again and grabbed a nearby sweater. “Well then, this will do the trick!”

Please Fyora just don’t let this make me late to Neoschool, Scary thought to herself, slipping the sweater over her head.

***

The Neoschool building loomed ahead, but for the first time in as long as she could remember, Scary approached it with apprehension more than anything. She and Sparkles managed to find an outfit that could be inconspicuous enough so as to not turn heads in the hallway, although they still bore that dreaded pink Scary thought she’d never be caught dead in. She nervously pulled at the collar of her pink sweater and smoothed out the wrinkles in her skirt, and then with a deep breath pushed through the school doors with an assumed air of confidence.

No one at the school could know that Scary wasn’t feeling 110% after all, so she kept her head held high as she strutted down the hall. A couple of her peers stole glances her way now and then, but with a quick glare, Scary managed to avoid any unwanted comments. So far, so good. The pit of worry that had built inside her slowly began to subside as the morning went on, but when she reached her locker after first class, a new wave of unease washed over Scary at the sight of a note on her locker.

She pulled it off to take a closer look, reading:

Life is suffering
But now I know
The reason for this pain
Is because of your tacky clothes.

“Tacky!?” Scary couldn’t help but shout aloud.

Her head immediately darted every which way, hoping to catch sight of the note perpetrator. No one stood out among the crowd as watching Scary from afar or having a suspicious air to them, and she turned back to the note thinking of a new approach.

Who in this school would write in such dumb poetry as this?

At the word “poetry,” the answer clicked in Scary’s head.

Gerald.

***

The sound of light guitar strums came to Scary’s ears as she stormed towards the grey Aisha, who moodily looked up from his instrument as she approached him.

“You’ve changed,” he muttered.

“Like I care what you think!” She retorted, fuming. She pulled out the note from her locker, shoving it in Gerald’s face. “This look familiar to you?”

“Yeah, I saw your outfit this morning, and the only way I could put down my feelings was through verse.” He played a few chords on his guitar. “I knew you were a part of consumerist society, but I didn’t realize you’d lose your whole soul to it.” He made an up-and-down glance at Scary’s outfit. “Wearing clothes you don’t even like to try and fit in with the societal construct of ‘fashion trends.’ You’ve really sold out.”

“First of all, I had no choice since my clothes were all gone and I had to borrow these!” Scary snapped at him, “And second, if you actually knew what you were talking about, you’d realize that these clothes haven’t been in style since you first started to crawl! Moron.”

“Whatever.” Gerald pushed himself off of the wall he was leaning on, turning away from Scary and towards his band room locker. “It’s sad to see you like this.” He tucked his guitar away, locking it as he turned back to Scary. “But I’ve got class.”

“Hmph, good riddance,” Scary grumbled, crossing her arms with a pout.

Gerald left her in her spot, where she refused to move for the next few minutes. Thoughts still seething in her mind, Scary stole a glance towards Gerald’s locker where his precious guitar was stored. An idea started to form, and Scary’s face went from disgruntled to excited as she suddenly unfolded her arms and bolted out of the room.

“Sparkles!” Scary homed in on the pink Bruce in the hallway, excitedly grabbing her arm as she panted, “Sparkles, quick, I need your help!”

***

“Oh, and this would look lovely on it! A little dash of this, and ooh can’t forget the glitter!”

Scary simply stood back with arms folded and a smirk as she watched Sparkles work. Little did Gerald know not only about Scary’s uncanny lockpicking skills, but that the arsenal that had pink-ified her own fashion wasn’t limited to just clothing.

“I’m so glad you’ve grown to love the outfit, Scary!” Sparkles beamed up at her, “I told you trying new things would be good!”

“What can I say? When you’re right, you’re right, Sparkles.” The smug look hadn’t left from Scary’s face.

“And I didn’t realize you played guitar! That’s so cute that you want it to match your new look!”

“The pinker and glittery-er, the better.” Scary admired Sparkles’ handiwork: Gerald’s usually-black guitar now covered in bright colors and puffy stickers of images like rainbows and flying Uni. She could count on Sparkles to always have such girly supplies on hand.

“You know what else I’ve learned today, Sparkle?”

“Hm, what’s that?”

“The early Pteri may take from you in the morning, but that doesn’t mean the whole day is lost.”

Thanks Twillie! Loved that you kept Snaw as a juggler! And I'm amazed he didn't burn down the laundry machine this time!

Also loved seeing Gerald again! It was a nice piece of canon!