Work Text:
"I—... I've always really liked you pr3ty!! I just didn't know how to say—..."
With that, the door clicked behind him. The bouquet of flowers dropped to the ground, a pang in the back of his heart—but the clouding of his mind didn't let him pay much attention to the mess of petals now scattered on the floor next to the bathroom door.
He flopped on his bed, feeling utterly defeated. As he shoved his face into a nearby pillow, groaning, his blue hue faded into a darker shade, before he dug his claws into both sides of the pillow, groans becoming shouts of frustration. His tail rigid, he screwed his eyes shut, letting out his anger into the soft texture of the pillow which mercifully muffled his screams.
"I'll never be able to tell her! I can't do this—!!"
Every take had felt too weak, or too much. He spent thirty minutes or longer—he'd lost track of time—standing in his bathroom before the mirror, examining his posture, how he expressed himself, and most importantly: his words. Which, was the hardest part of them all.
It all felt so overwhelming to keep up with, so much of this was foreign to him—but he knew what pr3typriincess would expect of him.
All of his efforts felt like they were in vain. He wanted to give up, just forget this day had ever happened at all. His brain cycled between 'maybe tomorrow' and 'maybe never.'
Unfortunately, the latter sounded like a safer, more comfortable option. But neither sat right with him.
He flopped over in his bed, laying his head against the array of pillows.
They were arranged in a way that meant too much to him. Another small thing he'd do, almost without even thinking, that hinted too much at his real feelings, not for her to pick up on—but to himself.
Denial could've been his middle name.
The pillows were arranged just like how he remembered pr3typriincess' were. He claimed it was just because they were so comfortable that way, and they each had their beds layered with soft, comfortable pillows. Despite this similarity, pr3typriincess' bed was much nicer to sleep in than his own. He heard it was the best bed out of anyone's in the entire cabin, and he didn't doubt it. It felt unfair, but at least he would occasionally be invited over to sleep on it. He wanted to make his bed just as comfortable.
That was totally it.
Only recently did he begin realizing his true feelings for pr3typriincess. Two years too long.
--
Two years boiled down to two days, bluudud.
Valentine's day.
Of course he'd heard of it. It was a bit of a surprise that lots of killers residing in this cabin had no idea of the concept of Valentine's day. Most of them brushed it off as another stupid holiday—but even more pointless than any other.
He had to somewhat agree, but it only upheld a bit more of a special place in his heart because of his mama.
When he was younger, it was only the two of them who lived together. bluudud never had a dad, or anyone else who lived with them. To his knowledge, his mama never married anyone. So, every Valentine's day, his mama would give him gifts, and tell him how much she appreciated him, and how much he mattered to her. And when he gets older, she told him when he finds the right person, he should give them gifts and lots of love this day, to show how much they matter to him.
He didn't know how to feel about this memory. It made him feel uncomfortable in his skin, but a dim flicker of warmth lit his body.
He missed his mama from time to time. Not often did he think about her, and when he did, it wouldn't trouble him much. Just vague memories that brought him something akin to peace.
Valentine's day. bluudud paced around the kitchen, his arms crossed over his chest. His mind wasn't exactly fixed on any specific thought, just the overall subject.
Today was his first Valentine's day since he'd been forsaken. While he was in bluuworld, he didn't really celebrate traditional holidays, so this was a bit of a change to actually be thinking about them now.
What would he do for Valentine's day? He didn't have his mama, he didn't exactly care for anyone in this realm. His tail flicked back and forth as he thought, his head angled down and gaze aimed at the floor as he aimlessly paced.
He barely even registered the tap of a claw on his shoulder. He whipped his head around once it came again, harsher this time—which must not have been intentional, as the hand quickly retreated. It was typical of a killer to forget their strength, at least he thought so.
bluudud was greeted with an unexpected face, John Doe appearing before him as he turned around. His expression portrayed none of his emotions, a still, unnerving yet shaky smile sewn onto his face. bluudud tilted his head, letting his arms drop to his sides awkwardly as he gulped.
"Um—yeah?"
John Doe blinked, tilting his head back. "...The—... matter?"
The words were almost choked out, a low growl underlying them. Doe wasn't often able to make out coherent sentences, typically communicating in a couple to a few words through a broken voice. It wasn't anything new to bluudud, just an inconvenience.
Seemingly, John Doe was concerned about him. bluudud's expression softened, and he avoided Doe's stare.
"I'm, uh—good," he stammered, only slightly caught off guard by being snapped out of his thoughts. Doe opened his mouth to speak again, but let bluudud continue before he did. "I was just kind'a thinking about Valentine's day? Do you know what that is?"
The question wasn't backhanded—it was genuine, as again, a surprising amount of killers didn't know what Valentine's day was.
To bluudud's surprise, Doe's face lit up as much as it could. He brought his hand to his chest, nodding.
Conscious of Doe wasting the little breath he carried, bluudud took the initiative to go on. "I was uh—wondering... What should I do for it—? It's my first Valentine's day here."
John Doe was one of the last killers bluudud thought he could get help or advice from, but here he was, being led outside of the cabin, to a nice array of nearby plants and flowers.
The two kneeled before them, examining their colored petals, dimmed by the dark atmosphere of this realm and the trees overhead.
"Give—...gift. To friend," Doe explained without glancing at bluudud, his hand reaching for one of the flowers. His claws brushed over its petals, as lightly as he could, careful as ever not to tear or damage the flower. "Nice...things." He said with a nod, his smile notably growing as he picked the flower, rolling the stem in between his claws.
bluudud stared for a few heartbeats as John Doe fiddled with the picked flower. He spaced out for a moment too long, Doe's words replaying in his head, following the faint voice of his mama's.
"Like...who, though?" He asked, his voice hushed. He figured Doe wouldn't be able to tell him—obviously. It was more so a question he asked out loud, as if the night's cold air would whisper him an answer.
Doe just shrugged, as expected. "Anyone."
Anyone.
And who would "Anyone" be?
bluudud ran his claws through the petals of flowers, formed into the shape of a crown, woven stems and twigs keeping it together. Whether or not the flowers were really blue, they only appeared shades of blue, which made him like it even more.
Laying his head on his arm, drawn out across the dining room table, he was slouched over, eyes half-lidded as he gazed at the flower crown. Doe made it for him. He called it an early Valentine's day gift, for being a good kid.
A good kid?
He wouldn't have expected to hear that—not here. But it was nice, and the crown looked good. Doe really wasn't so bad.
bluudud let his thoughts wander, back to square A—just with a slightly altered perspective. Anyone. He stared more intensely at the flower crown, focusing on it, how it was woven together so carefully, despite its flaws—it was good nonetheless, and meaningful.
Who would he waste his effort on to make something like this?
He bit his tongue as the thought daringly grazed his lips. John Doe made me this to be nice, didn't he?
A long, drawn-out sigh exited him, releasing the tension in his shoulders, only sinking him further onto the table. He tapped repeatedly with a claw on the table, focusing on the sound emitted by the contact between his claw and the wood. It felt satisfying, grounding. But just something he did out of—instinct, or whatever.
Any of the adults—no, that's just weird, it wouldn't make sense. He isn't even necessarily close with any of them.
His... "friends," the other kids?—I'll be dead by the time I think about giving c00lkidd a gift.
That's when the thought crossed his mind.
pr3typriincess.
Of course. They'd already begun to hang out on Sundays, they were slowly becoming closer than he imagined they would. That being said—...
SHE SUCKS! ABSOLUTELY SUCKS! SHE'S UGLY, AND AWFUL, AND HORRIBLE, AND A FREAK, AND I'M WAAAAAAY BETTER AND COOLER AND MORE HANDSOME AND—
And he couldn't help but feel a certain pang in his heart whenever he thought about her.
The way she would smile at him, on the off-chance it was a genuine smile.
The way she would comfort him when he was having the worst night of his life.
He hated to admit at times he felt like he was admiring her. Her unwavering confidence, her bravery...
But these feelings are all so stupid and pointless and FAKE!—
A liar.
A liar he was, for about two years now. All that would come out of his mouth was that he hated pr3typriincess. And yet he would sneak glances her way when he thought she wasn't looking. He would feel bad whenever he screamed too much at her or hurt her in any way.
He had a sketchbook with half of it dedicated to doodles of her.
The more he laid across the table and thought, the more numb his body became. A tightness rose in his chest, he couldn't pinpoint why. He didn't want to pinpoint why.
His tail began to lash, irritably. His gaze broke away from the flower crown. It was too sweet. Too much of a reminder of things he didn't want to waste his time thinking about.
Stupid things. He wanted to leave it at that.
That's all it should've meant to him.
Face feeling hot, bluudud groaned, overwhelmed by his own thoughts. He shoved his face into his arms, screwing his eyes shut, letting go of the flower crown. His claws dug at the sides of his head, as if he could claw away his mind. Claw away the stupid thoughts.
Maybe he should just go to his room, go to sleep.
Clear his mind, give him peace to think through his options before he settled on any sort of decision.
Valentine's day was pointless.
He'd swear that even the next evening as he looked up the recipe for homemade thin mints.
Or the morning after, as he spent at least fifteen minutes outside, scavenging for the right flowers to gather into a bouquet.
In this realm, the concept of time passing was shaky. It was up to the killers who first arrived to recreate a time zone for them all, and surprisingly, it worked well.
But that didn't change the fact that here, it always appeared to be night. The sun did not show, the birds did not chirp, it was only the moon held still amidst the night sky, blanketed with shimmering stars.
The humid outside air was almost suffocating to breathe in. bluudud attempted to adjust to it as he stepped down from the cabin's porch, lazily swinging himself to face towards the marsh by the side of the cabin. His eyes were drawn to the flowers he and John Doe picked the other day, and he approached them, kneeling down to sit on his knees by the carefully planted array.
The "night" was quiet, calm. It soothed bluudud, he had to admit. The only noises were the occasional chirping of crickets, or the faint yelling of c00lkidd from inside the cabin, like a rooster to wake everyone who dared to sleep in too late. Typical, and never any less annoying.
His claws brushed the soft petals, eyebrows curiously raising at the different textures he felt based on the type of flower. They all felt so soft and gentle, too perfect.
He lingered for a bit, just observing, just feeling. Taking it in. Before a contrast to the blue shades caught his eye, and he naturally grimaced. A bush sat a few feet away, adorned with distinctive red roses, making his face scrunch up. He shook his head, rising to a stand with a grunt as he walked off to search for flowers that would appeal to her.
Over the span of a couple days, bluudud had conjured up a few ideas. He memorized pr3typriincess' favorite snack, favorite animal, and he figured she liked flowers; girls like flowers.
Using the skills he'd learned from his mama that he kept with him ever since he was young, along with help he had to beg from John Doe, bluudud finished a tray of thin mint cookies.
He personally didn't care for the taste; he wasn't a fan of thin mints at all. But, soothing his nerves, Doe confirmed he did a good job, licking his lips in satisfaction after taking a bite out of one.
Things were going great—so far, so good.
He also came up with the genius idea to create a plush of a pink elephant using B-Tools. It felt bittersweet, using the abilities that still lingered with him to create again.
Unfortunately, however, it was more difficult than it had been in bluuworld. Anything he could think of, he could materialize before him. The perfect fantasy. Now, he had to put more effort into his work. bluudud hated doing that.
He ripped off references he found on Google to make his job easier, conjuring up fabric and soft material to replicate the feel of a plushie.
It didn't turn out... amazing, but it could do. His hands were cramping, anyway.
Maybe the goofiness gave it life. Maybe it was just the thought that counted.
Besides its flaws, bluudud thought he was doing an awfully good job. Now there was only one last thing he had to prepare, right after he got some much-needed sleep.
Perfect.
He couldn't pinpoint what type of flowers they were, but his eyes registered them as shades of pink, or a light red. He crouched before the patch, reaching down to carefully pull them from the ground. The tip of his tail twitched as he examined the flowers, turning them this way and that, brushing off the dirt, his expression brightening as they were graced by the moon's light.
His chest caved in too far as he breathed, and he bared his teeth. The familiar feeling of distaste rose in his throat, it'd been difficult handling the color pink all day. But he brushed it off, this mattered.
This mattered?
His head began to spin again, and he whined out a pitiful cry.
He shook himself off, shutting and locking the door of his room behind him with a gentle click. He had everything he needed, he was finally prepared.
Surprisingly, there wasn't much commotion going on today—not by many. If you don't count pr3typriincess prancing around the living room, nagging every killer unlucky enough to come in contact with her with some words he was too unfocused to make out—then it was a rather underwhelming day for the occasion. Which... made bluudud feel a little silly.
He'd wasted quite a bit of time waiting until pr3typriincess retreated to her room for the time being before he even dared stepping foot back into the cabin. By the time she left, he'd almost forgotten how to breathe, stumbling in through the front door gasping as if he'd been holding his breath the entire time he was out there.
Setting the bouquet of flowers—put together with yet again more help from another killer—on his bed next to the bundle of other gifts, he let out a long sigh, flopping onto the bed, too. It creaked beneath the sudden weight, a strong exhale releasing from him once he settled.
He was already tired, admittedly so. He hadn't done much aside from picking flowers and sitting outside for a while, but he was more-so mentally exhausted.
Somehow, throughout this entire preparation, he tried not to think much of it. He just convinced himself it was going to be a friendly thing.
He didn't want to admit he was a liar.
But deep down, he knew he was, and he had been for far too long.
pr3typriincess and him being friends was a stretch, if he was telling the truth. A gift of appreciation on the day of love exchanged between either of them would be straight bullshit, and he had to acknowledge that.
So, today was the day.
Valentine's day.
He was going to do it. He was going to own up to his feelings, and be face-to-face with the truth. Look the truth in the eyes, and finally say what he's been shoving away into hiding for years.
"pr3ty, I—..."
Barely even a word in to his reflection in the mirror, and he got choked up, fiddling anxiously with the ruffles of the bouquet. He shoved his face into his palm, groaning. It felt impossible.
So he replayed the scene, over, and over, and over. Correcting his posture, tone, volume, expressions, choice of words—everything he could think of.
Unfortunately, it barely got easier. Sweat was dripping down his face by now, as he imagined pr3typriincess standing before him, having to face her while he spoke. While he admitted this. This was harder than any 'thank you' or apology he'd ever been forced to give her, and those always left a sour taste on his tongue.
With each take, he just grew angrier, more hopeless. With a wail, he tore out of the bathroom, tossing the bouquet of pink flowers on the ground and slamming his face onto the bed, smothering a pillow with pitiful frustration.
I'll never be able to tell her.
He felt tears well in his eyes; he'd spent two days preparing gifts for her, he worked harder than he would've ever needed to just to prove his feelings. But he was too much of a wussy to take the final step.
Maybe tomorrow, maybe never. He thought about if he just got rid of the gifts he'd gathered, forgot about this day, mark it off the calendar and move on. Continue being "rivals" with pr3typriincess. Exist with a weird, unclear relationship with one another, but shared malice that he sometimes just wanted to shake off.
A groan, a whine. Noises of frustration were all he could choke out, as if it was a plea to someone or something to tell him what to do.
Finally, an idea came to him, as if a miracle.
He lifted himself off of the bed, eyes dragging over to his nightstand, where his phone lay, charging. He yanked it over, frantically unlocking it and opening Google.
"how 2 tel gril i liekr hr"
Mercifully, his search was autocorrected, bringing him to the answers he was looking for.
However, as he skimmed through forums giving advice, a sinking feeling in his chest stunned him.
The jingle of an alarm, coming from his alarm clock.
An alarm set for Eleven PM every Sunday, titled "💙💙💙".
He threw his head back in a cry, balling up his fists as he tossed his phone down next to him, punching forcefully into his bed.
That's what he gets for forgetting to check the time. He just wasn't used to it! Time didn't exist in bluuworld.
Do or die, he repeated in his head, a random phrase he picked up that was an attempt at reassuring himself. Reaching over to dismiss the alarm, he scrambled out of the bed with a stretch and a yawn, trotting over to his closet to throw on an outfit, slightly more appealing than his casual pajamas. He tried—he ended up relying on the justice his mom's jacket did for him.
He mumbled under his breath, scooping up the gifts in his arms; unfortunately too much to carry one-handed. Shuffling over to his door, he shoved himself close to it, reaching weakly for the handle as he held the gifts tighter between his arms.
There it was,
a glance to his left, and pr3typriincess' door could be seen, diagonal from his room.
He closed his eyes, inhaling long and slow, exhaling the same, before he finally walked up to the door.
Two knocks on the pink door, strained with the gifts in his way.
He could've sworn his heart skipped a few beats as he waited.
The handle turned, he held his breath.
The door cracked open, then wider with welcoming, the smaller figure staring up at him curiously.
Then a pause between the both of them. He began to sweat, his tail curling around his leg anxiously.
"pr3ty..." he began, slow, hesitant. Unsure where or how to start. He blinked slow, then drew in a breath.
"I—... I like you."
--
"My flowers are far wilted, don't you see? A miracle it would be, your rainfall of unwavering love to allow them to bloom..."
"I will pluck your dead leaves, let your petals glow with radiance, forevermore."
"I am cloaked in only decay, there is nothing left to save."
"But my eyes look past your façade of evil, a ray of boundless light hidden within."
"If you hold so dear, that lack of fear...
Then will you break my curse and cure me with a kiss?"
The finale of the play was punctuated with a proud giggle from its only actor. Lifting her radiant, pink dress in her claws, pr3typriincess curtsied with a satisfied grin.
The staged audience of animal plushies and dolls stared lifelessly at her. She clapped for herself in rapid succession, closing her eyes and imagining the toys clapping for her.
The book which inspired her play lay on her nightstand next to her bed, the cover decorated in pretty pink stickers and pages layered with bookmarks and annotations. This was one of her favorite romance books, and she was endlessly proud of how she executed it into a play. She called it a "Valentine's Special."
Gracefully leaping off of her bed labeled for the time being as a "stage," she skipped over to her wardrobe, snatching a fresh change of more casual clothing and heading to her bathroom.
An extra minute or two was spent with her gazing at her reflection in admiration at the mirror hanging on the inside of the door of her bathroom. Hot pink sticky-notes with neatly-written compliments and affirmations lined the frame of the mirror, sparing enough room to take in her form in its entirety. Her tail wagged gleefully while re-reading each one.
I'm so great, she repeated casually in her head, a smile plastered across her face as she shut the door of the bathroom behind her, a mighty stretch following.
She came to a sit on the edge of her bed, huffing as she let her weight fall. Eyeing the alarm clock resting on her nightstand, she blinked at the time: Eleven-forty seven PM.
Throwing herself back against the soft comforter, she stared up at her ceiling, wonder erasing her expression as her mind traveled.
Tomorrow was February 14th—Valentine's day, everybody knew. Or, everybody should know. She never had anyone to be her valentine, but she enjoyed the holiday nonetheless. It felt special to her in specific, this day you'd see pinks and reds like no other, adorned with hearts and love-letters. Sweet exchanges of love and appreciation.
Her heart throbbed with the yearning. To be respected once more, to be praised, admired, adored by many.
Memories seeped through the fog of her mind. Memories of her being pitifully young, prancing around the house, giggling with a pink star-tipped wand in her hand.
"Bow before me, peasants!"
"Yes, m'lady. (Of course, your majesty.)"
"What do you want!?"
"To make a proposal... (An offering.)"
"Wait!—what's a... proposal?"
Laughter, bittersweet.
"A gift for you, m'lady."
"Right, right! Ooooh!~"
Chocolates, in a heart-shaped box. That was her first teaching of Valentine's day. They called it "her special day," a day to be showered with more love and gifts than she could ever ask for. A day that represented her, and only her.
Shaking her head, pr3typriincess exhaled, long and drawn out. Drowsily blinking her eyes open, she finally dragged herself off of the bed, approaching the large, pink "throne" her gubby Gandalf lazed in, his body stretched from one side to another. She stifled a giggle, leaning down to stroke the bright pink fur of the gubby.
"Goodnight, galfy." His ear twitched, but he didn't lift his head.
Tomorrow was gonna be fun.
For the majority of the day, pr3typriincess prioritized being a pest—more than usual. The typical ritual of her being praised in the home of "DUZII" had little hope of returning, but a new form of entertainment would suffice. She'd gone around to almost every killer she could come across in the cabin, nagging them for their "crush," for who their "special person" was. She barely got answers, but that was okay—she got some awfully laughable reactions when she spread rumors about so-and-so liking so-and-so.
Childish, but undeniably fun.
The remainder of the day, however, was relatively boring.
Her feet kicked back, she laid on her stomach on her bed, grinning ear-to-ear and giggling as she scrolled on her laptop. Something to pass the time. Her head rested on the palm of her hand, allowing her eyelids to droop with increasing weariness.
She might as well have called it quits—before she caught a glimpse of the time in the bottom corner of her laptop screen. She let out a sharp gasp, sitting up and hastily straightening herself. Ten fifty-six PM, Sunday, of course—!
Valentine's day had to be on a Sunday.
Well, no big deal—all they did was gossip, and she had more than enough to talk bluudud's ear off with today. She stifled a giggle at the thought, sliding off of the edge of her bed, tail swaying behind her.
They were hanging out in her room tonight, so she skipped for the tablecloth blanketing the rounded table she hosted her tea parties at. Fanning it out, she pranced back over to her bed, laying it over the comforter with practiced elegance.
With how much of a messy eater bluudud proved himself to be, she wasn't going to take any chanced with her bed getting crumbs all over it, or spills—any of that. Therefore, she laid out a tablecloth to make sure everything of hers stays perfectly clean.
The time ticked, and she rolled out her drawer, preparing the hairbrush, sitting it by her side as she sat on the edge of the bed, hands placed neatly in her lap. She waited patiently for his arrival, though, admittedly, an odd feeling sat in her chest.
She'd barely seen him for the past two days. Not that she cared, not that it mattered—it was just different, weird.
Slightly unpleasant.
pr3typriincess perked up as rapid, gentle knocks rapped on the door. "Come in," she invited, her tone neutral.
"Could you—uh... Open the door—? My hands are full."
She narrowed her eyes. Okay?
Leaping off the side of her bed with a huff, her smile faltered slightly as she approached the door, opening it hesitantly with a curious tilt of her head.
pr3typriincess paused, barely thinking to greet him as he stood before her, cradling a bundle of pink gifts in his arms. She opened her mouth to speak, ask, something—
Before she felt as if she was shot in the head, twice, when his words assaulted her ears.
"I like you."
bluudud just said that.
bluudud just said "I like you."
Her wide-eyed stare must've stabbed him like a knife, as he seemed to subconsciously crinkle the bottom of the bouquet of beautiful pink flowers in his claws, a fidgety manner. He looked anything but confident, and honestly, like a mess. A brushing would certainly do him good.
She shook her head, stammering. "Wh—... What—?" She brought her hands to her chest, fiddling with her claws, unsure of what to do or say. bluudud's expression contorted, into something akin to hurt.
"I—... Like. You." He nodded his head insistently, like he was trying to convince her what she heard was true. But, his words were in no way assertive, they were just as shaky and uncertain as he looked. pr3typriincess almost wanted to feel pity for him.
She blinked, dumbfounded, tempted to avoid his gaze altogether.
"Oh..." Her voice came out quiet, barely a whisper. She blinked, slow, at the gifts he held, examining what she could see of them. Was that an elephant plush...?
bluudud's breath caught in his throat, and he backed up, blinking back tears as he took that as a refusal. A rejection. Just as he turned away, she reached up to grab him by the shoulder, and he turned his head to stare at her, wide-eyed.
"Wait."
His head tilted, a glimmer of hope sparking in his eyes.
"I—... Come in, okay?"
Silently, the two sat on the edge of her bed. A heavy silence lay over them. bluudud didn't dare say a word, he just sat with his claws digging into the stems of the flowers, his stare burning into the floor.
"You did this all for me?" bluudud flinched as pr3typriincess spoke, reaching over to brush her claws against the soft texture of the pink flower petals. "Wow," she breathed.
She was painfully unreadable. He couldn't tell if she was mocking him for this or was giving him a chance of sorts.
Letting his arms lower, pr3typriincess dug through what he brought, eyes wide with interest. bluudud's whole body felt hot as he watched her. He rarely saw her in any other mood than a bitch.
But for once, this looked like something genuine. Something more.
Opening the heart-shaped box, wrapped with a pink bow, her face lit up as the smell and sight hit her. Freshly-baked thin mints. She glanced between him and the cookies, a smile growing on her face. "Did you make these!?"
bluudud just nodded, a small smile slowly forming to match hers. She stared at him, astonished. "I didn't know you could bake...?"
"My mama taught me," he whispered, glancing away. pr3typriincess nodded, picking up one of the cookies and examining it, taking a miniature bite out of it.
"This is... surprisingly good."
bluudud's face lit up. He wanted to squeal, to punch the air in some sort of victory, even if she'd subtly insulted him. All he could do was smile brightly like a child receiving a new toy. She giggled softly, causing his heart to skip a beat.
The taste was remarkable. Oddly salty—but not bad, not bad at all. Her tongue swiped across her lips, a satisfied look on her face.
"Try to be back before 18-o'clock for dinnertime, m'lady," a gentle, motherly voice with a stern undertone spoke, patting pr3typriincess on the head as the small girl nodded, excitedly pushing past and rushing out of the gate with a confident toothy grin.
Taking a slight detour on her path, she skipped towards a field of flowers, eyes lit with interest as she paused before them, kneeling down to run her hands over the vast array of colorful flowers. Whites, pinks, purples, yellows, many colors that all mixed in well together. But of course, the pink ones were the prettiest of them all.
She stood, outstretching her arms to feel the cool breeze brush against her skin. Her eyes closed, relaxing in the peace it allowed her. The comfort, familiar solitude. With a giggle, she took off through the field, prancing with light feet as she felt the wind against the palms of her hands and between her claws. She held her head high, gazing at the sky illuminated by the sun's radiance.
Everything was so perfect, beautiful.
She huffed weakly by the time she'd reached the top of a hill, throwing a glance over her shoulder at the flower field the hill sloped into.
Unfortunately, she was not here to waste time running through patches of flowers, gazing at them in awe. She was here for a more meaningful purpose.
Eradication.
Today's "massacre." There was especially no time to waste, as today was her assessment, lead by the DUZII infected, to test the skills that she'd learned, and how well she could utilize them against the weak, measly robloxians of this fabricated world.
Luckily, she wouldn't have to worry about her performance; she'd do no less than exceptional, how it always has been and always should be. The only thing she had to worry about was getting caught up in too much fun with gutting and severing the limbs of robloxians that she'd forget to return home on time to eat with her family.
She turned towards the sun, her smile widening as the rays of warmth bathed her face. With a glance down, her target lay before her: Village #16. Eyes fixed, she set off.
Walls painted with blood. Decaying, twisting bodies tossed to each side.
A manic smile, cackles of satisfaction.
pr3typriincess took refuge in a small, homey house, her back pressed up against the wall of the second floor as she breathed in and out rapidly. Her smile was crooked, claws coated in blood, swiping her tongue over her teeth. She giggled as she wiped her hands clean with a bedsheet she pulled off the empty mattress beside her, the well-known DUZII symbols shimmering on her black-tipped claws, customized to her liking with a hot pink. The teal of the original wasn't too appealing.
She wasn't worried about anyone finding her. She wasn't even too sure why she stopped—just taking a breather.
Something caught her interest, though, as she scrolled through the commands on her "pr3ty.GUI," a tab she hadn't explored before.
Messages, it read. Seemingly, other users had been chatting recently, though she sneered at the amount of typos one of them made.
"hi?" she typed, a claw hesitantly lingering over the send button. She perked up as she got a response from... "Blue-dude?" Even their name was misspelled.
"??" they responded. pr3typriincess narrowed her eyes at the text, how unwelcoming. "whats this?" She blinked at the GUI, waiting for a response.
"mesajizz duumme."
Staring dumbfounded at the GUI, she narrowed her eyes with a scoff. "what did you say???" Before sending, however, she added on: "r u dyslexic??" with a mocking snicker.
"NUO" the user responded, making pr3typriincess giggle more. They then moved past the question. "wuts ur nam" they asked. A stupid question. "its above my chats, blue dude."
"HOE DID U NO MY NAM"
She couldn't help but burst into a fit of laughter as she read the message, covering her mouth. She decided to play along. "i know where u live blue dude."
"WUT NO U DONT" they responded after a minute of tense silence. "stop lier. hakkr"
"arent u a hacker too?"
"nuo"
pr3typriincess shrugged. This was probably a young kid who got its hands on its parents' GUI. She contemplated what to say for a few moments, before another message came.
"eww... ur nam is princess"
She scowled. Ew? "wdym ew??."
"U STPID GRIL"
"ur literally autistic"
"NOT"
It was funny, entertaining how quickly and easily she could infuriate the user. They argued for a bit longer—primarily reused insults. She could practically feel the anger through the messages. Eventually, though, she glanced to her side, peering out the window as the sun graced the horizon, painting the sky a radiant orange as it began to set. Gasping, she frantically tapped her claws on the GUI.
"gtg, getting late"
She didn't bother waiting for a response, disabling the GUI with a swipe of her hand and quickly stretching, rising to a stand and hurrying down the stairs, carelessly rushing out of the house.
As she reached the gate's entrance, she was greeted by a familiar face, an armored man stood before her, radiating the DUZII symbol.
"Welcome back, m'lady." He cast a glance towards the setting sun, squinting. "You have returned later than you were instructed, but worry not."
pr3typriincess shook her head, folding her hands neatly in front of her. "Sorry, sir." She tried to compose herself, careful not to let her formal façade falter.
She really did not care what Dolor had to say.
"You did a splendid job. Jin and I are very proud, and so is The Pulse." He dipped his head respectfully, expression not portraying anything.
"Thank you—I know." She giggled, giving a little hop of excitement.
"However." Dolor's eyebrow raised. pr3typriincess met his stare with a confused look. What else did he want?
"I have to ask, with all due respect. Why did you stop?"
She drew in a breath, blinking. "...I was just tired—I didn't sleep well last night. Sorry."
Dolor shrugged, hesitantly. With a nod, he opened the gate for pr3typriincess, gesturing for her to go on inside. "Make sure you do next time."
With a glance over her shoulder, she reopened the GUI.
A few more seconds of silence passed passed. Tenser than any they'd ever felt before.
pr3typriincess sat, eyes fixed ahead as she breathed gently. Each breath was weighted with stress too sudden, racing thoughts, and the decision.
But as she took the bouquet of flowers from bluudud's hands, as she caught a glimpse of the sweet smile forming on his face, as she basked in the scent and beauty of the flowers—she felt her chest tighten.
"bluudud," she began, drawing in a breath. He perked up quickly, meeting her eyes with interest, expectancy. Hope.
"I—... like you too."
"Why don't you tell us who your special person is?" c00lkidd chirped, a sly smile on his face as he yanked pr3typriincess' arm.
Her eyes narrowed, and she looked away, face feeling hot. "Go to your room, rat."