Chapter Text
.☘︎ ݁˖⊹ ࣪ ˖
The idea of ‘home’ had always been a foreign concept to Clover.
A notion they’d find represented in many of the books that were mandatory in the school they used to attend. An older, caring and wise figure, and a growing child with so much to learn.
They had never related to it.
If anything, those only worked as a reminder that it was a world that they weren't a part of. That it’d always be an experience only to be watched, never to be lived.
That was, of course, until they met Martlet. Somehow, less than a year later they had been adopted by her, now sharing a roof that kept them warm in the coldest town they had ever known. Well, and only other town they knew given their age.
Clover stretched on the blue rug they had been laying on for the past ten minutes, rejoicing as light entered from their window and warmed their face. They ran a hand over the feathers imagery embroidered on the borders of it. They rolled to finally get up, considering it was time to do something more productive with their weekend.
On their table laid some building blocks, paired up with wooden panels they could rearrange into different constructions. Now that they thought about it, most furniture in their room was made out of said material. Well, and in the whole house. Truly a testament to Martlet’s carpentry skills, which always seemed to be ten times more refined when it came to personal interest instead of work.
They sat on their chair and started moving things around, trying to get an idea to life. It wasn’t really working. The panels and blocks just kept slipping and falling down back on the table or the ground. And it always happened when they were sure they’d stay put.
I should probably ask Martlet for help, they thought.
…
They weren’t good at asking for help though.
Maybe, if they just had a screwdriver they could get things to stay put. They’d need screws too. Those shouldn’t be hard to get.
Okay, they weren’t kidding anyone, there was no way Martlet would let them have one of those while unattended. She was surprisingly effective when avoiding child endangerment. If you didn’t count her own work table which was full of random stuff laying around. Clover wondered daily why Martlet would need a bowling ball in her workspace.
Coincidentally, three knocks interrupted their activity.
“Clover? Can I come in?” Martlet’s voice could be heard from behind their trapdoor.
Instead of responding, they simply opened the room. Their caretaker was holding on with a single arm to the stairs that lead to the attic.
Speak of the devil.
“Morning! I uh— brought blankets!” she announced, holding up a pile of neatly folded sheets on her free wing. She looked to the side and then back at them, unsure what to say. “Ithoughtyou’dmightgetcoldspeciallynowthatwinterisjustaroundthecorner.” She took a deep breath and continued. “AndwellIdon’treallyneedthembecauseI—”
She stopped to think. Clover wondered how she even had time to in the middle of her accelerated discourse.
“Uhm… I’m kinda built for that and uh… I… have feathers?”
“What.”
“I didn’t make any sense did I?” Martlet realised with a defeated expression. She lit back up a moment later. “To sum up, I thought you could use a blanket.” She looked at the pile. “Or well, five.”
Clover hummed. “Thanks, Martlet.”
The monster carefully stepped into the room to leave the blankets, as if the act of stepping into the kid’s privacy felt like a crime. Clover appreciated the sentiment.
Still, they had the feeling Martlet had something else to say and after a moment of hesitation their suspicions were confirmed.
“A couple of friends of mine are in town,” she explained. “It’s been a while since the last time we met, so I thought it could be a good idea to invite them over to dinner. You know, to catch up and stuff.”
Clover silently let her continue, only letting Martlet know they were listening with an occasional nod.
“But I wanted to know if you were comfortable with that before deciding anything.”
Clover was by no means the best when it came to meeting new people. They were a quiet kid who had never gotten along with children their age and had always been overlooked by the older figures around the place they grew up in. Clover sometimes feared those times had marked them irreversibly.
But these were Martlet’s friends they were talking about and if anyone had shown them that all people weren’t the same, it was her. So they’d give the reunion a chance.
“That’s fine by me,” they informed.
Martlet chirped happily. “Okay then! I’ll give her a call once we have breakfast.” She turned on her heels and started reaching for the exit, Clover following suit.
Then they bumped into Martlet’s back. The kid looked up at the monster only to find she was glancing towards their table. Her eye had caught on to the construction Clover had been trying to put together before she got there.
A smile grew on her face. “What were you doing?”
Clover shrugged, their face reddening slightly at the attention. Their little creation felt silly in comparison to anything the adult could have ever seen or constructed herself.
“It’s nothing, really.”
“Oh, don’t say that. If you keep going like this, soon we’ll have two builders inside the house!” She joked.
They shook their head and chucked. “This has nothing to do with the things you build, Martlet.”
This is the moment, realised Clover. The topic of conversation was on building, so why not just go ahead and ask her for advice?
…
Again, they weren’t good at asking for help.
Accepting it wasn’t really the problem. The problem was asking for it in the first place. They balanced on their heels back and forth. Opened their mouth once or twice, trying to build the courage to ask her. Luckily for them, that wasn’t necessary because Martlet was the one to speak first.
“…do you want me to teach you? You know, to build the stuff I do?”
Clover’s head snapped towards her, eyes literally shining. “You’d do it?”
She lit up. “Of cour—!”
Clover literally beamed. They jumped in place, holding the urge to tackle Martlet into a hug while repeatedly staring at their table and then back to the monster. She wore a smile of her own. Martlet kneeled down and offered them a closed fist. They bumped it with their own.
“Then it’s set! Now,” the monster stood back up with a jump, “let’s go have breakfast! I even managed not to burn anything this time!”
Clover quickly took their cowboy hat and put it on. Now they were ready to go.
.☘︎ ݁˖⊹ ࣪ ˖
Clover rarely stepped foot into Martlet’s workshop.
The atelier was located on the house’s ground floor. It was directly connected to the garage, which had been reconverted into a shop that now awaited to be inaugurated. Morning sun bathed it.
They were living in a big house, but, surprisingly, it had never felt empty to Clover. The faint memory of Martlet telling them once that she had built it herself resurfaced on their mind. With the help of her mentor, that was.
From atop of the stairs, the echoes of the conversation Martlet was having over the telephone reached Clover. I’d be a bit before Martlet joined them down there, so they took a look around.
The room was very messy.
Blueprints were scattered around, some even hung on the walls for remembrance. Figures that still awaited to be polished patiently awaited for their time. Planks of wood rested on the walls or piled up on the ground.
Martlet had a photo hanger near the window. Clover was in a couple of them, but they didn't really recognise most of the monsters pictured. There was a recurrent figure though, a dark furred fox monster. He wore glasses and his hair was pulled up in a ponytail. His clothing told Clover he came from far away. Martlet looked a lot younger in all of the photos she had with him.
The flap of wings drawing closer made them look towards the stairs. Seconds later, Martlet landed in the middle of the room. She then trotted until she was next to them.
“Okay! I just gave them a call and they’re free today! Which means we’ll have company!” Her smile softened into something melancholic when her eyes drifted towards the hanger. “They… were his family, you know? Chujin’s,” explained Martlet. “We actually met because of him.”
The monster started rummaging through one of her multiple shelves filled with manuals. “His wife is a very kind woman. She’s a bit intense at times, but she’s the kind of monster that just kind of grows on you, you know?”
Martlet tiptoed to get to a book out from the top of the shelf. Clover snooped closer to check the title. ‘Woodworking for DUMMIES.’ The amount of dust it had gathered suggested it hadn’t been touched in a very long time.
“She has a daughter who’s around your age, too. She’s like, the sweetest girl ever!”
Clover could genuinely notice the way Martlet gradually cheered up when she spoke about her friends. Her joy was contagious, so they couldn’t help but smile.
“Oh, and her childhood friend’s tagging along too! I’m sure you’ll adore him!” She kneeled in front of Clover and winked. “He’s one of them, you know? A cowboy.”
Clover straightened and fixed Martlet with big attentive eyes. “A cowboy?”
“Uh-huh! You’ll see later.” She ruffled their hair and got up. Clover instinctively fixed their hat.
“Aaaaalright!” Martlet put down the opened, thin manual on the table where most blueprints were kept. They had a couple of tables at their disposition and that one turned out to be the tidiest. “I’m not the best teacher but we’ll work with what we can!”
Clover sat next to their caretaker who had started flipping through the first pages in the book. “I… don’t really remember ever using this book myself…”
The child expectantly looked up at her as she squinted at the words. She sunk down slightly. “Okay, I understand why I never used it now.”
“And that is…?” Clover peeked at the text themselves. While it was easy to understand the instructions which were paired up with useful illustrative diagrams, the content was highly theoretical. “Ah, it’s boring.”
“Very boring,” Martlet agreed. She closed the manual with one movement of her hand.
“So, what do you wanna build? I’ve got a bunch of instructions ‘round here…” She frowned at the mess of blueprints that surrounded them. “…okay maybe it’ll be easier to look for those on a manual. A different manual.”
“Hold on,” they cut her. Clover gently pulled from Martlet’s shirt to stop her search. “I know what I wanna do already!”
“Ooh! Tell me then!”
“A wooden horse. Like, those that go back and forth.” Clover recreated the motion with their finger. “But smaller.”
“The kind that rocks?”
“Yeah!”
Clover could clearly see the engines inside Martlet’s brain creaking as they started turning round in order to materialise the project inside her head. “Oookay, I think it’d be too much of a challenge to give it too much volume, so how about we start with a more ‘blocky’—” she quoted with her feathers “—approach?”
Clover tilted their head. “I’m not really following.”
The monster waved her wings. “You’ll know what I mean soon.”
Sure, they’d trust her instinct.
Martlet reached for her tool belt and took a small notebook and a pencil out.
“You’ll want to sketch your idea first,” she explained. “Try to keep the design as simple as you can and avoid having joints too thin. We risk those breaking off. Then, you’ll recreate it again on the wood.”
Clover nodded and took both objects from her wings.
They started drawing their figure, keeping in mind Martlet’s instructions. Slowly but surely, their little horse came to life. It had a four leaf clover drawn on its side as well. The lines were kinda choppy, but they did the job.
“Do I draw the arc too?
“Sure, go ahead!”
Clover nodded and got back to work.
At some point in the process, Martlet had flown over the table to get some materials from the other side of the room. Her ease at the job was notable, the years of learning shown in the way she grabbed and sorted her tools into a box without a moment of hesitation.
Clover was surprised that she had only now decided to open up her own shop.
Until then, she had limited herself to taking commissions from neighbours around town, winning a reputation for herself which eventually led her to being able to live off of her creations.
Clover knew that hadn’t been Martlet’s job for a long time though. But it was such a natural job for her that the kid had never stopped to think about what her work could have been before the pair had met.
The words slipped before they could stop to think them through. “Martlet, what were you before?” They asked. “Before all of this, I mean,” they added, hoping she’d get what they meant.
The monster’s hands stilled mid movement, taken aback by the sudden question. She didn’t turn around to face them.
“Before? I… I was a police officer,” she responded, lost in thought.
Clover looked surprised. The image of Martlet as part of the force wasn’t exactly a fitting one. “It’s… tough imagining you in a uniform.”
Martlet chuckled and walked back next to them.
“I know,” she sighed and put down the toolbox she had been carrying. “I kinda only got that job to do something with my life. But this?” She opened her wings wide and gestured at her workshop. “This is my life calling, Clover! I feel it in my feathers.”
A smile bloomed on Clover’s face. They shared that feeling with her.
Martlet cleared a spot on the table causing several blueprints to tumble down and she put a pile of wooden planks of all kinds of sizes on it.
“You got it?” She asked, looking over their shoulder. Clover nodded. “Great! Are any of these good for the horse’s width?” She proceeded to hand a couple of her planks to Clover. They grabbed one of them and began translating the drawing from paper to wood.
A casual conversation sprouted between them while Clover worked, interrupted by the occasional helpful remark from Martlet to help guide them.
School, work, friends. Just life in general. Nothing more, nothing less. Clover couldn’t have asked for more.
They both made sure to truly get the table as clear as they could for the next step: cutting. Martlet had got out a bunch of tools Clover couldn’t name.
“Wait, hold on. I uh, should have some safety goggles in here,” Martlet mumbled as she rummaged through her tool box.
“…should?” Clover raised an eyebrow.
The monster stopped and glanced at them sideways with narrowed eyes. “Yeah…”
“Martlet, do you not use—”
“I DO USE THEM!”
Her eagerness to defend herself confirmed for Clover that she, in fact, didn’t. They crossed their arms.
“Okay look, I kinda forget about them,” she confessed, admitting defeat. “Sometimes.” Well, almost admitting defeat.
“Whatever!” She threw the glasses, which she had coincidentally found, for them to catch. “Watch closely, Clover!” Martlet held up a precision blade. “I’ll start carving the shape out and you’ll take the relay later, sounds good?”
“Yeah!”
Martlet’s face straightened in concentration as she began to work.
Her dominant hand held the razor firmly. Her other hand fixed the wood in its place, away from the sharp edge. Upward and sideway cuts that always dodged her. Never trying to force the blade and instead insisting on the already existing cuts.
Clover carefully observed the motions they’d have to recreate moments later. They confidently threw themselves into the task when Martlet passed them the razor.
They’d personally say they were doing great for a child using carpentry tools for the first time, but Martlet wasn’t really giving them any hints of if they were right about that assumption. She seemed rather distressed every time the blade would edge too close to their hand or slip from their grasp.
Chaos unfolded when a sharp crack signaled a fatal error. And by chaos they meant Clover desperately asking Martlet for help while she tried to reassure them it could be easily mended.
The kid had accidentally broken off the connection where the front hoof and the arc met while trying to empty the center space.
“…I’m sorry.”
“Clover, it’s really nothing! It’s just a silly mistake!” Martlet rubbed one of her wings on their back in a comforting manner. “It’ll also be easy to work around it and fix it.”
“But it wasn’t supposed to happen in the first place. And now it won’t turn out the way it was supposed to.”
Clover refused to look up at her, despite feeling her gaze settle affectionately over them. She sighed with a smile and squeezed their shoulder. Then, she gently took the razor from their hand.
“It’s completely normal not to get things right the first time, Clover,” she explained, finishing the cut Clover had caused and mimicking it on the other hoof. “You’re still a kid and you’ve got a long time in front of you to grow.”
Martlet lightly marked the spot where hoof and arc met with her pencil. She then grabbed a couple of nails. Clover attentively watched as Martlet put one of its sharp ends between them, right where she had signaled.
“And I believe it’s thanks to mistakes that we’re able to learn. You only get better from here on now.”
Martlet reached for a hammer from her toolbelt and aimed it at the nail. With three confident hits, the nail had seemingly disappeared, along with their mistake. Then, she offered the second nail to the kid. “Are you feeling confident?”
Clover carefully reached for it and they nodded with renewed determination. They imitated Martlet’s previous process and seconds later, the horse stood again proudly on its arc. Clover carefully put the wooden horse on its feet. It tilted to the side, but otherwise it balanced on it just fine.
Martlet bumped them. They bumped her back with a small smile.
The monster reached for the sandpaper on the table. “If you want to, we can now polish the—”
The doorbell rang.
Clover barely avoided dropping the hammer on their feet while Martlet literally jumped out of her seat and the sandpaper slipped from her wings. “This soon?!”
The monster frantically shook her head in search of the closest clock around. Clover looked up and read the time on the only clock in the room, which happened to be behind Martlet. 11:43.
Martlet squinted at the hour. “No, really this is very soon, even for Ceroba. And especially for Starlo.”
The doorbell rang again. Martlet quickly rushed up the stairs while screaming, “Just a second!
Clover spared one last glance at their little, now lonely horse. They promised they’d come back to it as soon as possible and they climbed up the stairs.
Back in the living room, a tall fox-like monster had just crossed the house’s threshold. She held a bag filled with snacks on one of her arms, while a little girl who seemed to be her daughter grabbed onto her other.
“We’re sorry for the wait, Martlet,” the unknown monster apologised while bowing her head.
“What wait, Ceroba? We're here over half an hour early.”
A third monster entered the house, his attire polar opposite to his companions. While the other two were dressed rather formally for the occasion in their kimonos, he rocked a poncho, a cowboy hat all too similar to Clover’s and a golden star badge. ‘Sheriff’ was engraved on it.
The first one, ‘Ceroba’, hummed. “Better safe than sorry, don’t you think, Starlo?”
‘Starlo’ shrugged. Then, while Ceroba and her child lent Martlet the things they had brought, he stretched and took a look around the room. He locked eyes with Clover.
Starlo blinked.
Clover blinked back. They waved a hand at him, too.
The monster rubbed his eyes and stared back at the kid. Clover waved once more.
He pulled from his friend’s sleeve without looking at her. “Uh, ‘roba?”
Ceroba turned around. “What is—?”
The words died in her mouth the moment she spotted the kid still patiently waiting near the stairs. She looked at Starlo. Then at Martlet. Then back at Clover.
And so, both monsters stared at the kid. They stared back at the two imposing figures. Even the monster child had dared draw herself away from her mother just to inspect the stranger with curiosity.
At this point, Clover had the sneaky suspicion Martlet had forgotten to tell them the kind of relevant fact that was their presence.
Their caretaker was the last one to notice the dead silence that had fallen over the living room. “What’s the ma—”
“YOU HAVE A CHILD?”
.☘︎ ݁˖⊹ ࣪ ˖
So, Martlet had indeed not told any of the visitors that now sat around the kitchen’s island the small and very insignificant fact that she had adopted and was now raising a child.
“Martlet,” Starlo chuckled nervously, “you got a kid living under your wing and ya didn’t tell us?”
“I… forgot.”
Starlo blinked twice. “You forgot.”
Martlet nodded weakly.
“You forgot,” he repeated.
Martlet whined. “Yeah…”
“How do you even forget that, Martlet,” grunted Ceroba, who had been rubbing circles on her temples.
“I’msorryI’msorryI’msorry!” Martlet literally planted her wings and face on the counter, as if her fervent displays of regret would gain her the mother’s mercy.
Ceroba took breath for three whole seconds. Then she sighed. Starlo gave her a couple of sympathetic pats in the back. That seemed to calm her down at least a little bit.
“I’m sorry as well. This all caught me off guard. I’m just… worried.”
“We all are, ‘roba,” said Starlo and he turned towards Martlet. “But I’m sure Feathers over here thought this out through and through, right?”
Martlet’s silence was enough of a response.
“Okay, Martlet,” Starlo chuckled in defeat.
Ceroba still looked unsure. “It’s just… there’s so many things you have to always have in mind when bringing up a kid and…”
“And I’m a scatterbrain,” acknowledged Martlet.
Ceroba huffed a laugh. “Yes, you are.” She sighed for a long, long second. “Give me paper and a pen, Martlet. I’m writing you a list.”
Meanwhile, a tense silence reigned over the kids. And while Clover had been enjoying the adult’s banter, they weren’t dense enough not to notice.
They were both sitting on the living room’s sofa, room which was directly connected to the kitchen where the rest of the group sat. To Clover, the ceiling had never been so interesting, and it seemed the floor was just as interesting to the girl.
“…I don’t think I caught your name,” said Clover.
“Ah. I’m Kanako.” She bowed her head as she formally introduced herself. “And you are…?”
“Name’s Clover.” They offered an extended hand. “Nice to meet ya!”
The monster grabbed their hand and was met with a vigorous handshake. Kanako laughed, taken by surprise.
“So, you’re living with Martlet from now on?” The girl’s stance had lost all of its rigidity. She decided to settle between the sofa’s cushions with her legs pulled up.
Clover nodded and reached for the bowl that sat untouched on the coffee table. It was filled with small and round desserts the visitors had brought.
They took a cautious bite. Clover’s eyes lit. They were sweet.
Kanako’s ears perked up. “You like them? Mom and I cooked them ourselves!”
Clover nodded enthusiastically. “They’re very—” they threw the rest of the sweet in their mouth, “—tasty!”
Kanako smiled widely. She then reached for the bowl and put it between them, as if to offer for them to eat more of them. Just as they were about to take another, a gloved hand slipped from behind the couch and looked around for the bowl.
The style of clothing alone already gave him away, but the cowboy hat sticking out from behind the furniture completely betrayed Starlo.
Kanako got on her knees and looked at him. Clover followed her example. Starlo was crouched behind his improvised hiding spot. His face, which had been contracted in concentration up until that moment, shattered the moment he realised the kids had caught him.
He stood back up, picking up whatever was left of his pride and dramatically dusted off his pants. The house was clean.
“Kanako,” he greeted. “Clover. Y’all might wonder ‘bout what I’m tryna do.”
“Uncle Star, you know you can just take without having to sneak around,” Kanako cut him with a smile.
“But where’s the fun in that?” He popped one of the small desserts into his mouth. An idea seemed to cross his mind. “Hold on, I brought this lil’ thing…”
Starlo patted his poncho, then his pant’s pockets and finally the bags hanging from his belt before finding what he was looking for.
“Behold!” Starlo held a cassette with a sentence hastily written on it, the red marker kinda blurred at the edges.
Clover didn’t need to read the title though. The small drawing of a dot with wings topping over three triangles was enough. They practically shot out of their seat.
“That’s the Delta Cowpokes III!”
Starlo snapped his fingers a bunch of times and pointed at them. “Yes! The movie of all times!”
“Action!”
“Drama!”
“Justice!” They both screamed at the same time.
“Ha! Finally someone who appreciates some good ol’ classics.” Starlo turned towards Kanako with a grin.
The girl stuck her tongue out. “The only thing I said is that the fourth is way better than the third one!”
“No, it ain’t.”
“It literally isn’t,” backed him up Clover. Kanako rolled her eyes and sunk into the sofa.
“I, uhm…” Martlet interrupted while scratching her face, “can I know what the ‘Delta Cowpokes’ is supposed to be?”
Silence fell in the room. Clover looked at Martlet as if they were seeing her for the first time. Starlo stumbled back, the shock hitting him right in the chest. Kanako twisted her face with distrust, her ears pinned against her head.
“Here we go…” sighed Ceroba, bracing herself for the storm Martlet had just unfolded. An array of mixed complaints and shots followed.
“Martlet, how can you not—” “Martlet, these movies are like—!” “Martlet! I told you about—”
“OKAY, OKAY, CALM DOWN!” Martlet frantically waved her hands to keep the three of them, who had all crowded around her, at an arm’s length.
“We gotta fix this right now,” declared Starlo. “Y’all got a cassette player ‘round here, don’t ya?”
Clover hummed in confirmation. They got up and approached the television, kneeling down next to Starlo as he inserted his movie.
Only then did the realization dawn upon them. I can’t believe I’m with a real cowboy.
“Ha! There we go!” Starlo got back on his feet as the movie started playing.
Ceroba huffed a laugh and patted Martlet on the back. “I’ll be making something for lunch while all of you watch the film.”
Martlet jumped in place. “Ceroba! You really don’t have to bother. I can just cook whatever.”
“I insist, Martlet,” she sighed, looking fondly at the group that was settling down on the sofa. Her expression soured slightly as she turned towards the television. “I’ve got no need of rewatching the Delta Cowpokes again.”
The bird monster nodded weakly. “Okay, okay…”
Clover called out for her, “Martlet! It’s starting!”
“Oh! Coming!” She quickly joined the rest. The sofa’s headrest dipped behind Clover. Martlet had crossed her arms over it. The kid made themselves comfy on the sofa as the intro started playing.
.☘︎ ݁˖⊹ ࣪ ˖
Despite being their favourite movie, Clover always forgot about the romance plotline.
It happened to be between two supporting cast members that were only really present during the third movie, whose designs incorporated a lot of weather-like elements.
Said plotline was forgettable at best. To them, at least, and apparently to Kanako, judging by her unimpressed expression at the melodramatic display of feelings at hand. But clearly not to Starlo.
“Oh…” he sniffed, covering his mouth with a hand, his eyes gaining an uncharacteristic emotional shine to them. “This’ the saddest part.”
“I mean, they get back together by the end of the movie,” deadpanned Clover sinking deeper into the sofa as the thought of an obnoxious blue, self-proclaimed ‘Duke of Puzzles’ crossed their mind.
“You two are spoiling the movie!” Kanako reprimanded them, looking at Martlet. But honestly, Martlet just seemed confused.It probably hadn’t been the best idea to immediately throw her into the third chapter, having completely skipped over the first two’s existence.
Clover had to admit that despite all of their best defenses towards the movie, they couldn’t stand that guy.
“I’m gettin’ a glass of water,” they explained. They slipped out of the people sandwich that was their sofa and headed towards the kitchen.
Clover stopped around the entrance, having forgotten that Ceroba was in there. They shyly stepped forward. “Don’t you wanna watch the movie too, ma’am?” They asked.
Ceroba shook her head. “No need. I’ve seen it at least over twenty times now. It’s been Star’s obsession for ages. But thank you,” she added.
She leaned down slightly to reach the kid’s height. “Oh, and you can just call me Ceroba. I’m sorry for not properly introducing myself before. And for screaming. This all kind of caught me off guard.”
Clover waved their hands to take importance out of the matter. They tapped the ground with their heel. “…it’s a good movie though.”
Ceroba groaned. “Yes, yes. But not when you’ve watched it over twenty times.” She opened a cabinet and gave Clover a glass, having heard their previous statement. “I’ll leave that to the ones that actually enjoy it.”
Clover chuckled and let her be. They sat back in their seat and let the movie continue.
.☘︎ ݁˖⊹ ࣪ ˖
It was almost the end, the most important moment in the whole film. Clover inched forward, unblinking and following the main characters every move.
All of the movie, the harsh scenes and the heartfelt ones, the soothing music and the upbeat one, the bonds the characters formed and the ones they broke…
It all came back to that exact moment.
The camera spun dramatically around the three main characters until it focused on the villain’s face, the trio’s proud figures reflecting on his screen.
At the same time, Clover, Starlo and Kanako all got up from their seats, taken by their excitement.
It was time. Just as the heroes pointed forward to say their iconic catchphrase, the viewers screamed.
“THE WRATH OF THE SHERIFF!”
A set of excited giggles followed as the moment passed and each fell back on their respective places.
Martlet chuckled, amused by their enthusiasm and ruffled Clover hair, who stuck their tongue out back at her.
Even Ceroba had dignified herself to pay slight attention to the movie she so claimed to despise in order to watch the moment.
Not soon after, following a couple of scenes that gave that episode closure and opened up for the fourth one, the end credits started to roll.
In the end they hadn’t missed a single apparition that blue, self centered and dramatic creature had, but at least lunch was ready.
They were helping by setting up the cutlery with Kanako and Martlet while Starlo retrieved his tape.
“Man, what a movie,” he said as Clover got back to the living room.
“Ain’t the easiest one to watch tho. They barely play it on the TV, only the first part.”
“Huh? You don’t got it on a cassette?” Clover shook their head. “Here. You can have it, kid.”
Clover’s eyes lit up in disbelief and they opened their mouth to protest. Starlo winked at them as a sign of complicity. “I’ve got like three copies of it anyways.”
Clover took the gift in their hands as if it was a precious relic. They looked up at Starlo with a big smile. “Thank you!”
He waved his hand. “Don’t mention it.”
“Food’s going to get cold,” warned Ceroba from the kitchen island where everyone else was already sitting down. “If it does, that's your loss.”
Clover’s mouth watered as they took a seat. “This looks amazing…”
“Well, thank you!” She beamed as she lent them a full plate.
“Man,” started to say Starlo while dragging a stool to sit on, “none’s cookin’ could even compare to yours, ‘roba.”
“Well, given that I’m the only one here who actually knows how to cook, it isn’t very hard.”
“Pfft. I ain’t a bad cook, am I?!” Starlo boosted, elbowing Kanako to get her support. Mother and daughter exchanged a look. He grunted. “Don’t even answer.”
That got the whole table laughing.
A little bit later, after having left their plate completely clean,they looked at their reflection, which was warped by the spoon’s curve. Then at the monsters that surrounded them. They were all deep in conversation, light laughter sprouting more often than not.
Even though they had only known all those monsters for a day…
Clover smiled.
There was a warm, fuzzy feeling growing inside their chest now. They were unsure what it was, but they knew they’d find out one day
.☘︎ ݁˖⊹ ࣪ ˖