Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A car horn honked from the driveway, and I scrambled to gather up everything I needed to attend BittyCon 2017. Merch cash and bittybones snacks? Already in my purse. Infinity scarf for bittybones to ride in? Already around my neck and draped perfectly for passengers. Lastly, I gathered up my three good boys for a day full of fun and adventure.

(two good boys and a brassy)

Gigi had offered us a ride to the convention center since she would already be stopping by to pick up Buttons, who, after a family discussion about our plans for the day, had opted to stay with her at the shop. Gigi had recently acquired a shipment of Kitten Sans bittybones, and Buttons couldn’t wait to play with them. Though he had come a long way in the month and half since I’d (we!) adopted him, he still wasn’t ready for a bustling crowd and the possibility of encountering Papyrus-type bittybones.

I had second thoughts as we pulled up in front of the building. There were people milling around everywhere! I wanted to get the Kara bitty for Buttons though; today was about making our family better, not about me and my insecurities. I gave Buttons a kiss on his tiny round cheek, and he patted me encouragingly.

“You can do it, Momma,” he chirped in his sweet, gentle voice.

I attempted to scoop up my other two not-as-good-as-previously-mentioned boys, but they demanded kisses loudly before they would allow me to pick them up.

(it’s only fair! buttons got kisses!)

I had to smooch Red first, otherwise he would pout (damn right!), but Brassy proudly bragged that I’d smooched him longer and therefore loved him more. Red insisted on a second kiss, which Brassy deemed incredibly unfair. I must’ve spent at least five minutes outside the convention center trying to evenly distribute kisses to itsy, bitsy cheekbones before they finally agreed to clamber onto my scarf. 

Of course, they couldn’t settle themselves comfortably into the infinity scarf without squabbling over prime real estate. They couldn’t even decide which area was the prime real estate to squabble over. The trough of the scarf rested over my breasts and provided the best viewpoint, but the coveted shoulder curve of the fabric permitted whoever occupied it to be my seeing eye bitty.

(that’s my job!)

I guess Red couldn’t pass up the opportunity to hiss and screech at random strangers, so he took up residence at my shoulder while Brassy took the soft, cleavage-pillow helm to steer us to various locations, most of which involved food. I gave Brassberry some time to direct our wandering while I took a few deep breaths. The convention center was packed, bristling with people.

Red whispered comforting words in my ear.

(i asked for a jelly bean)

He did not ask for a jelly bean. He may deny it, but Red worked very hard to keep me calm in the seething mass of bittybones enthusiasts. He also yelled “Watch out, jackass!” quite a bit more than I would consider necessary.

(it was necessary)

Without Red’s assurances and Brassberry’s calm guidance, I probably would’ve left, embarrassed by my weakness and crying. Instead, I grabbed an event program. We had an all-access pass, so we could attend any of the panels we wanted. I was determined to enjoy my BittyCon experience. I held up the pamphlet to my less-good-than-ever bittys, eager to hear their input.

“Tantric bitty massage,” they shouted in excited unison.

What had I gotten myself into?

Chapter Text

First, I calmly explained why we weren’t going to a tantric massage class for bittybones… and then we argued about why we weren’t going to a tantric massage class for bittybones. When I say we argued, of course I mean that Red and I argued because Brassberry is well-behaved and can take “no” for an answer.

(he’s a quitter!)

(I just understand that you can’t make Momma do things with tantrums.)

(i could before you got here and started undermining my methods)

I ignored Red and Brassberry’s noisy squabbling and went back to checking my pamphlet. The bittybones creator we had traveled here to meet should be set up in the Adoption Alley area of BittyCon, but an asterisk next to her name informed me that she’d only be at her booth in the afternoon. My bittybones and I had several hours to kill, so I tried to find a decent panel that we could all enjoy. It turned out that the Kara bittybones’ creator, Miss Fluffers, was away from her booth because she was judging a Blank bittybones pageant that started in less than an hour!

I’d purchased an All-Access Pass which meant Red, Brassy, and I could attend any of the panels, but seats were first come, first served. I really wanted to see how other people’s Blank bittybones had developed. Maybe I could even ask some of the Blank owners for their opinions about Buttons’ unique situation. I hurried to the conference room where the competition would be taking place to join the already-forming line outside the doors. I didn’t know if I could spend an hour with nothing but the sounds of my two tiny boys shouting insults at each other though.

(he started it!)

(Nuh uh! Red started it!)

Fortunately, the convention catered to many different tastes in the creative arts, and the conference room for the Blank bittybones pageant was adjacent to an area where writers and comic artists were displaying their wares. I love stories of all kinds, not just ones about bittybones, so I sidled over to the nearest table to take a look. A large sign at the table had the author’s name: Mage of Light, and two smaller signs indicated the “all ages” and “adults only” stories. 

Of course, my bittybones tried to wrangle me to the porno section. They’d given up on tantric massage and would settle for some self-insert fantasies instead… but I said no. To which one of them angrily protested. There’s no prize for guessing who. I’ll give you a hint: it wasn’t Brassberry.

(duh, cuz he’s a kiss-ass)

I didn’t feel like parading around the convention with two aroused passengers all day, so I picked up one of the all-ages stories to browse. The title page read: A Cure for Sleep Troubles. It sounded cute!

(no, the title sounded stupid!)

Shushing my complaining bitty, who seemed determined to be as rude as possible as often as possible throughout the day, I began to read, and Brassberry clambered up to my left shoulder to join me.

(reading is for nerds)

(Momma likes to read)

(it’s ok for girls to be nerds, assberry)

The story had an adorable plot, and Brass Bean and I finished the first page quickly. I turned to page two to continue reading when Red shouted indignantly:

“Hey I wasn’t done yet!”

(I thought reading was for nerds?)

(There wasn’t anything else to do, nerd)

To which Brassberry, jumping aboard the choo-choo train to Rudesville, population two, replied:

“It’s not our fault you’re practically illiterate!”

“I’m not illiterate! I read slow because I’m taking the time to enjoy it!”

I had to snatch Brassberry off of my shoulder to keep them from punching each other. Blushing furiously, I paid for our copy of the story. The author at the booth tried to hide a knowing smile. I considered offering them one of my incorrigible boys since they found the antics so amusing. Instead, I sat down on the floor next to the conference room door, close enough to get in when the pageant started, but far enough away to dull the sound of raised bitty voices.

“Guys, stop fighting!” I hissed at them. They subsided reluctantly, glaring at me with narrowed sockets like I had somehow wronged them by picking up the accursed story. “If you settle down and behave, I’ll read it to you, ok?”

And finally, finally, they agreed on something, sitting quietly as I started over from the beginning:

“Sans had always been a bit of a light sleeper…”

Chapter Text

The doors to the conference room finally opened, and my bittybones and I braved the surging (rude) crush of (smelly) human bodies to make sure we’d get a seat. A nervous-looking usher handed out programs explaining the different categories for the Blank bitty pageant: Organic, Non-organic, and Fashion. There would also be a question and answer segment afterwards featuring prominent Blank owners and experts. Excitement shot through me. I could ask about Buttons and his unusual circumstances!

I managed to secure a seat for us near the front and on the aisle, so we didn’t have to feel boxed in. We had an excellent view of the judges’ table (currently unoccupied) on our left, and the main stage front and center with soft natural light shining down on it from ceiling skylights.

Movement to the left caught my eye and I watch the three judges file in through a different doorway and take their seats at the table. I didn’t even need to see the name tags in front of them to identify Miss Fluffers. She wore a bunny-ear hoodie that obscured her face in shadow, and she’d brought her two Grand Champion Blank bittys, blue ribbons and all! The crowd collectively gasped at the mere sight of their well-known faces.

The original Kara blushed bright blue as the audience whispered and stared. His black feathers gleamed with iridescent midnight blue as they fluffed up against all of the watchful eyes.  His wings curved elegantly from his back, and the feathers also formed a fluffy ruff around his neck and hood above his plumage-tipped tail. The markings on his small skull resembled little bird footprints, and I could hear soft “koo” sounds coming from behind the hands that had risen to hide his face. 

(what a pussy!)

The other Blank bitty couldn’t have been more different. The name “Saika” decorated his extensive collection of ribbons, and he swam and twirled proudly in his fish bowl, showing off his silky blue, pink, and orange fins and flexible tail. Too orange and pink mottled ears topped his handsome orange-spotted features. The aquatic Blank radiated elegance and confidence.

(gaudy asshole)

I heard Red grumbling irritably near my ear. I turned to ask him what he was saying, but spotted him directing to tiny middle fingers at the two famous bittys. I had no idea what they’d done to anger him. Perhaps they’d accidentally glanced at him, breathed the communal air, or existed in the same general vicinity as him. I couldn’t be sure. Red isn’t exactly hard to piss off.

(they don’t have to do anything! they’re stuck up, arrogant bastards!)

(Jealous.)

(nothin’ to be jealous of)

(Momma was looking at them.)

(fuck you, Brassy)

I tried to enjoy the variety of Blank bittys on display in each pageant category, but every time a new bitty was brought forward, Red hissed angrily or made a snappish comment, distracting me. In the organic category, ear, wings, tails, and extra appendages of all kinds abounded, and the non-organic category featured Blanks who’s taken on a robotic appearance. Even the Blanks who’d simply developed through fashion sense were breathtaking in sequins, ruffles, and resplendent colors, but Red didn’t enjoy even a second of it.

(i hated it)

I told Brassy to watch our seat, and ducked out into the hallway during the judging portion of the show.When I lifted Red from my shoulder and held him in front of my face, I could see unwanted tears escaping the corners of his sockets. His cheeks burned bright red in embarrassment at being caught crying.

(i was not crying!)

“What’s wrong, Red? If you had fur, it would’ve been standing on end!” I tried to make light of the situation and pretend I hadn’t noticed his tears, but my words were all wrong for the situation.

“Well I don’t have fur, and I’m never going to have fur- or feathers, or pretty colors, or any of those things!” he wailed, no longer able to hold back his emotions as tears poured from his sockets. “I’m just plain old me, and I’m no good! No wonder you want more bittys, better bittys!” His teeny frame shook as he sobbed, curled up in my hands.

“Shh.” I gave him a kiss on top of his miniature skull, and he looked at me, heartbroken. “I knew all about those other kind of bittybones, Red… and I chose you. That’s what makes you special to me. You’re the original. The one and only. My sweet, darling Red.”

He latched onto my thumb, clinging with his entire body, and I rubbed his itsy bitsy back as his trembling subsided. I waited until the competition ended, until I heard the sounds of the stage components being shoved out the way for the question and answer panel before we went back in to the conference room.

(this is… mostly… kind of… lies… probably…)

Chapter Text

I waited until Red had collected himself (i am highly collectible)before returning to the conference room. I didn’t want him to feel embarrassed by his outburst (haven’t been embarrassed by an outburst yet!), so I crept quickly back to our vacated seat. I checked to make sure I wasn’t about to sit on Brassy (not that he’d complain), only to find him missing (good)!

Unlike some bittybones I could name, Brassy is usually well-behaved (are you implying that Buttons is poorly behaved?), so I doubted he’d just wander off. I peered under the chair, thinking he might’ve fallen. Nobody noticed my frantic searching; almost everyone in the room had gone to congratulate the pageant winners and take pictures of the Blank bitty champions for this year. What if one of them had stepped on Brassy… or kidnapped him?

(i would thank them)

I felt panic rising. I wrung my hands together, trying to decide what I should do. Start screaming for him? Screaming seemed like a good idea. At least it seemed like a better idea than snatching people’s purses and searching them for my lost bitty. I just needed to breathe, needed to find him, needed to act right now. My fight or flight response kicked into high gear, but just as I was about to indulge in both options at once, I saw him.

Unaware of my near panic attack, Brassy stood on the folding table in front of the panel of experts, waving at me enthusiastically. The energy drained out of my body, and I swayed on my feet. I let relief carry me forward to collect my wayward bitty.

I started to apologize for his intrusion when I recognized the young woman sitting at the table. She was a well-known expert in bittybones care, specializing in Blank bittys. My apology turned into mixed up sputtered words as Brassy dashed over to be picked up.

“Oh, geez, I’m so sorry. Was he bothering you? I’m so sorry. I told him to-” 

I could even finish my rambling because Red launched himself from my hands onto Brassy and began to slam his tiny fist into his adopted brother’s face. Brassy grappled with him and they wrestled savagely on the table. Red shrieked obscenities, scratching, biting, and kicking at Brassy while Brassy tried to hold him down. I quickly separately them, earning myself a nice deep bite mark on my hand.

“You made Momma have a panic attack,” roared Red, eyes blazing, tiny finger stabbing at Brassy in accusation.

“I was only asking about Buttons,” Brassy countered, giving me a guilty look. He obviously hadn’t realized how I would react to finding him missing. I could easily see he hadn’t meant to upset me and only wanted to help, but Red refused to see it that way.

(he upset you by being bad)

“You’re always bad!”

(i don’t make Momma cry)

Sure enough, unbidden tears ran down my face. Embarrassed beyond belief as my two boys bickered angrily, I began my tirade of apologies all over again. The bittybones expert smiled at me indulgently.

“Brassberry here was telling me about Buttons,” she said calmly. She had one of those voices that demanded to be heard without being raised in the slightest. My angry boys fell silent. (well, she was helping, so…) “I heard about the Button Bitty Incident. Such a terrible tragedy.” She shook her head sadly. “Did you have any questions about him? I’d love to help.”

I sighed. Where should I start? “I just want to know how to help him. Will he always feel like a Buttonberry and never get to be himself? Will he always be a child and never have a chance to grow up? I guess what I’m asking is, can Buttons be… well… reset to a proper Blank so he can be happy?”

She gave me a sympathetic look, and I knew there wouldn’t be a satisfactory outcome. I braced myself for disappointment. “Once they’ve settled into their true form, Blanks don’t tend to change much, but before you start to feel hopeless, let me ask you a question. Is Buttons unhappy?”

I thought about Buttons’ bubbly laughter, his bright blue eyes, the way he loved to snuggle Red (does not!). 

“No.”

“Do you want him to change? If he were reset to a proper Blank, he’d lose all of his personality.”

I thought about his confusion at finding out he wasn’t a Buttonberry and the promise I’d made to love him for himself. Buttons had gone through an unspeakable trauma, and he still hugged with his whole body and loved with his whole heart. Buttons lit up a room like a little shining star.

My shining star.

“As much as I’d love to take away the trauma of his past, I wouldn’t change a thing about who he is today,” I answered finally. She nodded wisely. I picked up my two boys and carried them back to our seat to hear the rest of the question and answer segment in contemplative silence.

Chapter Text

Red burrowed down into my scarf to hide in sullen silence for the remainder of the panel. I couldn’t tell if he was disappointed that Buttons wouldn’t be able to continue to develop or angry that Brassberry had upset me (both! obviously!), but I left him to his blessedly quiet tantrum (silent protest!). Congratulating himself on a job well done, Brassy Bean made himself at home in my purse and raided the snack supply like he hadn’t eaten in years.

None of the questions being asked really pertained to Buttons, so I decided to duck out early and avoid the crowd at the door when the panel ended. Neither of my boys objected, mostly because Red was pouting (protesting!) and Brassy had a mouthful of (undeserved!)chocolate chips. We had some time to waste before Miss Fluffers returned to her booth, so I decided to cruise the craft section and spend some of the cash I’d brought.

I asked Red what he wanted in hopes of appeasing his foul mood with material offerings, but he gave me the cold bony shoulder (i will not be bribed!), so I made a beeline for leather accessories. Snores from the vicinity of my hip let me know that Brassy had fallen asleep mid-feast, so Red and I perused the selection on our own. I held up some finely tooled tiny leather collars with miniature gold spikes for Red’s approval, and despite his best efforts to ignore them, I saw his little eyelights glimmer with covetousness.

(ok, ok. i can be bought, but only with really nice gifts!)

“We could hang your piranha tooth on it,” I told him, though I could see he was already sold on the idea of owning one.

“I want the red one!” he piped up, all thoughts of punishing me with his grudging silence forgotten.

The woman in charge of the merchandise stood with her back to me as she rearranged a display, so I cleared my throat to get her attention. She turned to me with a smile, and I held up the collar.

“Pardon me, I’d like to buy-” She grabbed my hand, turning it to examine the bite mark (barely a scratch) Red had left earlier.

“Edgys are such violent little creatures,” she commented (rudely, and after absolutely nobody had asked for her opinion) with a shake of her head. 

“Excuse me?” I asked, hoping my affronted tone would adequately convey exactly how insulted I felt on Red’s behalf. “Red is most certainly not a ‘violent little creature’!” (yeah!)

“He bit you, didn’t he?” she pointed out coldly. I couldn’t argue with that, so I just fumed inwardly instead. “I recommend getting a muzzle for him until he’s trained better.” Her voice oozed disdain, for me or Red, I couldn’t be sure.

I gritted my teeth and tried to proceed with my transaction. “I just want-”

She interrupted me by holding up a wire and leather muzzle to show me as if I had shown any interest at all in slapping a cage across half of Red’s face. “This one is a best-seller.”

I slammed the lovely red collar down on the table with a crash. The noise must have awakened Brassberry because his tiny skull popped up out of my purse to see what all the commotion was about.

“Look, lady,” I snapped, jabbing an accusing finger in her direction. “The only one around here who needs a muzzle is you!” She gasped and clutched her chest like a sea captain’s wife who’s just been told her husband was lost at sea. 

(go momma!)

“Well, I never!”

“And now you have,” I shot over my shoulder as I stomped off. Red and Brassberry joined forces to lift four teeny tiny middle fingers in a salute to the woman’s bad attitude. 

I started to hyperventilate as soon as we were out of her line of sight, overwhelmed by the emotion of the situation. Red reached up and patted my cheek. I stopped to catch my breath, not even sure where we were in the convention center. I’d been too busy holding back tears and gasping for air to pay attention to where my feet had carried me.

I stuck one hand in my purse for Brassy to cling to, and I used the other hand to cup Red’s very small body. Holding my two boys helped to ground me, and my breathing slowed. The burning urge to cry passed. I could do this. I had my two boys and a heart full of determination to adopt a Kara bitty for Buttons.

“It’s ok, Momma.” Red couldn’t wrap his arms around me, so he settled for spreading them wide and laying across my chest.

“I know. She just made me so angry,” I sighed.

“What’s angry?” a tremulous little voice asked from nearby. “What does it taste like?”

Such a strange query, but where had it come from? Brassberry pointed to a booth to our left, and Red and I traced the path of his finger to the speaker- an adorable robot bitty with a tail!

We were in luck! The number fastened to the booth next to the curious bitty matched the the number for Miss Fluffers’ booth. We’d reached our destination after all!

Chapter Text

I stood in front of the table, staring down at the adorable robot bitty, who blinked at Red and I with a sweet, innocent expression on his precious face. The little guy had round purple eyelights, and he wore wire framed glasses. He honestly seemed confused by the word angry, but leave it to Red to find a creative way to illustrate an all-too-familiar emotion.

(hey, i’m not angry all the time)

Red scrambled down my scarf, swinging from a loose fold of it like a small, skeletal Tarzan. Fortunately he skipped the yelling part though I chalked that up to his focus on reaching his destination- the discarded jelly beans at the bottom of my purse.

(i was busy, but i saved up all my yelling for later! you’re welcome!)

I’m not a messy person (ha!), and generally my purse would not contain random, abandoned candies. That morning I’d packed some jelly beans for Red to munch during the convention (i saw you eating them too!). Shame on me, I’d foolishly forgotten to sort the beans and remove any cinnamon-flavored ones from the mix. Red had taken it upon himself to chuck the offending beans out of the Ziploc baggie.

Now, he fished one of the cinnamon-flavored jelly beans out from under a disgruntled Brassberry’s feet, shoving his bitty brother several times during his search. He actually exclaimed “Eureka!” when he found one. I’ve never seen him act so cute.

(i’m perpetually endearing. you just don’t pay enough attention)

Hopping out of the purse, Red scurried across the table to the robot bitty and held out his retrieved prize as if he were proposing to the other bitty with it. “This is what angry tastes like,” he explained as the other bitty accepted his offering and popped it into his mouth. The spicy taste didn’t faze him at all.

The little robot smiled brightly at Red “Thank you!” he chirped cheerfully. “I’m Peppi. What’s your name?” I left Red to introduce himself to his new friend. I had business to attend to. Not wanting to leave Brassberry out of the socializing, I placed him on the table as well. He immediately hurried over to a crowd of other fully evolved Blank bitties who chattered amicably a short distance from the robot bitty.

Miss Fluffers had watched patiently while my bittybones interacted with hers, and once they’d finally settled in to make some new friends, she greeted me warmly. “You’re Buttons’ caretaker, aren’t you?” she asked before I had a chance to speak. She extended a hand to me.

“I am,” I replied, shaking her offered hand. “And I need some help for him.”

She smiled. I couldn’t believe how friendly she was! Meeting her was like meeting a celebrity in the bittybones world. Everyone wanted to talk to her about her award-winning Blank bittybones or her uniquely styled art. The fact that she knew about Buttons at all spoke highly of the tightly knit and well-informed Blank bitty community.

“What can I do for you?” she asked me.

“Buttons still has some lingering injuries from the Buttontale Bitty Incident. I’d like to adopt a Kara bitty, one with healing abilities, to look after him.”

“Healing isn’t a common trait for Kara bitties, but I happen to have one here with decent healing magic if you’d like to meet him.” I agreed without any hesitation. Buttons needed this. I followed Miss Fluffers to a second table where she had her adoptable bittybones set up to meet potential owners.

The Kara with the healing powers was quite a handsome specimen. Markings in the shape of bird footprints crisscrossed his skull, and his feathers shone a shimmering iridescent blue-black. His fluffy tail wiggled to and fro as we approached him. I gently tickled his little, round cheek, and he giggled, blue eyes sparkling with joy. When I asked if he’d be interested in joining our growing family, he responded with an enthusiastic “koo!”

“Well, I can’t argue with that,” Miss Fluffers chuckled. She gave the Kara bitty a loving goodbye kiss on the top of his skull, and he flew from her hands to perch on my shoulder with yet another “koo!” What a charming little darling!

I went to fetch Red, who appeared to be quite enjoying Peppi’s company (we’re friends now). He gave the robot bitty a cheeky wink. “Un-tail next time then, Peppi,” he called over his shoulder as I scooped him up and placed him on my other shoulder. Peppi giggled and waved to him. I looked around for Brassy.

Brassberry came dashing towards me from around a corner. A trickle of fresh blood leaked from his nasal cavity. He leapt forward, and I caught him and deposited him quickly into the safety of my purse.

“What happened to you?” I asked him in shock.

“I touched a butt,” he answered smugly.

“And it gave you a nosebleed?” I was understandably incredulous.

“Nah.” Brassy grinned. “He punched me.”

He didn’t look the least bit sorry.

(It was totally worth it)

Chapter Text

We spent the next few hours at BittyCon focusing on food, fashion, and fun. I found a much nicer merchant selling quality leather clothing and accessories for bittybones of all sizes. Brassy Bean picked out a new silver-studded jacket, and Red got a gorgeous oxblood leather collar without being hassled about his bitty type.

After even more table browsing (and a few additional purchases), we munched our way through the food court, trying a little bit of fried everything while nouveau fashion icons Red and Brassy leaned out of my purse, desperately clambering for attention from passersby.

(you mean our adoring fans)

I discussed possible names for the new Kara bitty with him over powdered sugar-dusted funnel cake and tropical fruit smoothies. Together, we decided on Corvus, the Latin word for raven. Red and Brassy were more interested in trying a spicy wing challenge than choosing names, and despite my many, many unheeded warnings, my two very competitive bittybones squared off with a drumette each, drenched in a sauce that made my eyes water just from smelling it!

(Pfft, you’re just a spice wimp, Momma!)

(yea, tough guys like us can handle the heat!)

Brassy and Red chowed down like tiny, ravenous wolves… and immediately regretted it.

(My whole body burned)

(i was dying)

I actually had to strip both of my bittys down and bathe them in milk provided by the wing shop as a courtesy to remove the sauce and soothe the full-body burning sensation. With their pain relieved, Brassy and Red went right back to squabbling, namely arguing over who won their spicy wing competition.

(I won. I ate more of it!)

(you also threw it up all over the table)

I quietly reassured Corvus that Buttons behaved better than both of his brothers combined, but the newly-adopted bitty seemed to be amused by the other two bittys’ antics. He’d have a lifetime to get tired of their constant shenanigans, so I simply responded to his indulgent smile with one of my own.

Knowing that Brassy and Red would never settled their argument (because i won) (No, I won!), I distracted them with a different activity. One of the convention tables featured a Bittybones Treasure Hunt where bittys could dig around in brightly colored sand and find shiny polished crystals. I knew my boys would love it.

Red claimed a corner of the sandbox and several shovels to painstakingly excavate, but Brassberry took a different approach. He crouched down on all fours and scooped sand with both hands like an enthusiastic puppy. Sand flew everywhere, including across the invisible line separating Red’s territory from Brassy’s.Using his shovel like a catapult, Red launched a counterattack.

At first, I was mortified by the behavior, but the person in charge of the table waved me away, telling me to let the boys have their fun. He told me it was the most entertaining thing he’d seen all day. A crowd gathered to watch my two bittys wage war over a small wooden box of sand, the polished stones forgotten, flung aside in favor of more gritty ammunition. I heard a small koo from my shoulder. Corvus laughed uproariously at the spectacle, and I soon joined him.

Time expired on Red and Brassy’s Treasure Adventure, and the attendant carefully separated and bagged the stones that each of my bittys had unearthed… and mostly scattered across the floor. Red and Brassy climbed back into my purse to count and compare their prizes, animosity forgotten as they admired their loot.

(i found more)

(Mine were bigger)

The convention would be ending soon, and I still had an unfinished errand, or rather, two unfinished errands. I headed back into the adoption area, and Red and Brassy tensed and fell silent. We’d all sat down and discussed the plans for today before we even left the house this morning, but hearing about adopting more bittybones and actually picking them out were two very different experiences.

Chapter Text

“i have a suggestion,” Red volunteered for the umpteenth time since we’d crossed into the bitty adoption area of the convention.

“We are not going to skip the other adoptions,” I told him, also for the umpteenth time since entering the bitty adoption area.

“But we could,” ventured Brassberry, actually agreeing with his sibling and nemesis for the umpteenth time since entering the bitty adoption area.

Corvus the Kara bitty koo’ed in exasperation, and I couldn’t have agreed more. Nothing united my two stubborn boys as effectively as vetoing additional bittybones adoptions. They’d been distracted when I adopted the agreed upon Kara bitty, but now I had their undivided attention and very vocal objections.

“We discussed all of this earlier,” I told them firmly, “and this isn’t a democracy. End of conversation.” I doubted the words would work; I knew my boys too well.

(i vote that we make it a democracy!)

(I second the vote!)

“tyranny!” declared Red.

“Vive la resistance!” shouted Brassberry.

“Your protests have been noted. We’re still adopting the new bittys,” I informed them.

“But-” they cried in unison.

“No buts!” Owning an Edgy and a Brassberry bittybones was a constant exercise in patience and strength of will.

“There were butts earlier,” grumbled Brassberry. Red vanished into my purse.

Soon the sounds of my possessions being destroyed by an Edgy tantrum emanated from the general vicinity of my purse. The two dissenters had given up on objecting for now, but I doubted things could be so easy, especially when I heard Red enthusiastically tearing fabric at my side.

(you doubted correctly)

Our first stop was a table with a canopy over it. Beneath the canopy, sheltered from the harsh lighting of the convention center, napped a pile of Softbones bittys. Some of them snored, and some of them kicked their tiny feet as they dreamed. The person overseeing the table provided wicker carrying baskets lined with blankets and soft pillows for adopters to carry their newly adopted Softbones in.

I offered to let Red and Brassy help me select a Softbones, but they maintained their icy silence. I nudged a few of the Softbones until one of them reflexively clung to my hand. I lifted the sleeping bitty to my face and inhaled deeply. Softbones smell wonderful, and I hoped adopting one would help Buttons sleep more peacefully. The attendant carefully placed my bitty selection in one of the baskets, and we moved along to the next table.

(i was taken to the next table against my will!)

The lack of loud complaining made me nervous. I would not put it past my two boys to be up to something (i am extremely well-behaved except when i’m being treated unfairly, or hungry, or not being paid attention to, or need a nap….), but Corvus, the sweetheart, climbed down into the basket and curled up next to the Softbones for a nap.

The next table held a small selection of bittybones, including the type I wanted. As I observed the Yanberries, they scurried to and fro, sorting through boxes of clothing and playing dress-up. A few of them were even accessorizing. Buttons really loves fashion, but I don’t want to traumatize him with buttons and sewing needles. I hoped that a Yanberry could work with him to bring his fashion ideas to life without Buttons having to handle things he’s not ready for yet.

I couldn’t help chuckling as a Yanberry darted past me with a handful of ribbons. His outfit was brightly colored, and his cheekbones were spattered with cute (stupid!) little freckles. He stopped when he heard me cooing over him (boo!) and smiled up at me.

My purse grumbled, but I ignored it.

A humanoid monster who worked at the stand helped me select some outfits for the new Yanberry and cautioned me that he will want lots of clothing and creative projects to keep him happy (high maintenance). I listened, nodding politely as the boos and hisses from my purse increased in volume. The Yanberry joined Corvus and the Softbones in the basket since the purse seemed to be a rather unwelcoming environment at the moment.

I chose to adopt the Kara bitty, the Yanberry, and the Softbones because I wanted to provide the best bitty family possible for Buttons (we were already the best family!), but when I saw a sign describing the G!Sans bitty called Phantom, I knew I wanted one for myself.

My boys were not going to like this one bit.

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I sidled over to where the Phantom bittybones were awaiting their future adopters, foolishly (very foolishly because we can see and also read!) hoping that my own bittys wouldn’t notice or anticipate my intentions. The Phantoms were taller and lankier than any of my other bittys, and they had a sophisticated (stuck up) and flirtatious (perverted) aura about them. I suddenly found myself at a loss for words.

(i think the words you were looking for were “i guess i’ll go home and spend time with my beloved and favorite bitty Red instead of adopting one of these smug losers”)

I tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear like a nervous teenager, and said, whisper soft, “I’d love to adopt a bitty that enjoys theater and orchestral music.” My purse exploded with bitty outrage, the outburst rattling the carrier where Softy the Softbones, Corvus the Kara, and Berry the Yanberry dozed. Apparently Red and Brassy couldn’t contain themselves any longer and had given up on the silent treatment in favor of a more vocal protest.

“why would you adopt a whole other bitty for that? we can go to that stupid performance hall place and watch those dumb show things with you,” Red proclaimed, though his choice of words inadvertently supported my point more than it did his. Brassy shouted an enthusiastic “Yeah!” in agreement.

“Neither of you even like the performing arts,” I cried, exasperated. They denied it, and I sighed, recalling my past experiences taking them literally anywhere, least of all to a place that required a minimum of mediocre behavior for enjoyment. “Besides last time I took you to the symphony, Red, you shouted loudly at anyone who so much as unwrapped a piece of candy or sniffled audibly!”

(i was telling them to be quiet! that’s helping!)

Brassy snorted, and Red grumbled. I continued: “And Brassy Bean, when you went with me to a performance, you kept waiting until there was even the slightest pause or interlude to bellow ‘is it done now?’ into the silence, and letting out these gusty, exaggerated sighs!”

(It was boring!)

I ignored their further sputtering objections and turned my attention back to the Phantoms. One of them had stepped forward, politely waiting until my bittys were done arguing with me to introduce himself. He gestured for my hand, and when I reached out to him, he planted a kiss on the back of it. So charming, I thought as my purse emitted retching and vomiting sounds courtesy of Red.

(you’re welcome)

“I can see why you might be looking for a bit more culture in your bitty family,” the Phantom said with a saucy smirk and a wink. “I would be honored to accompany you anywhere.”

My purse bounced and shrieked with the two bitty riot taking place inside of it, and I thought it would be safer for the Phantom if he rode in the carrier with the other three new bittys until I could get home and sort everyone out (we don’t want to be sorted!) (Yeah!). Our prolonged adventure at the Bitty Convention left my nerves frayed and my patience for settling bitty fights dangerously thin.

I fished my cell phone out of my pocket where it had been placed to protect it from the little red menace in my purse and texted Gigi to let her know that we were finished with our shopping and adoptions. Gigi sent a quick reply that she was on her way, and after thanking the humanoid monster one last time, I lugged my purchases and the bitty carrier towards the entrance where Gigi and I had arranged to meet before the drop-off this morning.

Even though I hurried, Gigi arrived first; she was already parked at the curb by the time I exited the convention center. She honked her horn unnecessarily to announce her presence, causing a few passersby to startle. I hopped into the backseat of the car before a convention staff member could wander over and yell at us for stopping in a no parking zone.

Buttons, bless his sweet little heart, became the salve to his brothers’ wounded pride by running over to Red first and hugging him, then demanding to tell him and Brassy about his exciting day before he even asked to meet the new bittybones that I had adopted to make all of our lives easier.

(not mine!)

(Mine either!)

I’m certain that Red will have plenty to say in his blog entry about the Bittybones Convention (damn right!), but for now, I’m exhausted and just happy to be heading home with the three napping bittys being watched in their carrier by Phantom and Red and Brassy listening to Buttons chatter about his exciting day visiting the shop where it all began.

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