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"You enter the king's chamber, adorned with decorations in hues of red and gold, and he stands as you step onto the big, red carpet leading to his throne."
Makemake grinned, pointing to the table set up between the group, exhilaration already pumping through his veins. His core fluttered, the happy, fluffy feeling lifting his mind up, up, up, out of the sludge and the fog. The clarity that came with the excitement–the thrill of knowing exactly what to do and how to do it, and seeing his friends' faces light up with excitement–swirled throughout his mind, stretching his smile wider across his face.
He was born to do this.
…born…birthday–
A happy shiver ran up his back, Makemake barely biting back the urge to yell it out. No, no he had to be subtle. That wouldn't be fun, and he would just be shoving it in their faces to give him love and attention. Yes, birthdays were important, but Makemake was also, like, the most dramatic dwarf planet out there, and so he wanted everything to be perfect.
He can do this! He has it all planned out: what the characters will say, how it parallels real life, and then the nudges that would get his friends to suddenly realize it's his birthday! As long as they follow the script (or the…five other routes Makemake thought that it could go), then it would be fine.
"Uh…Makemake?" A hand flashed in front of him, the movement of the light blue mitten snapping Makemake out of his thoughts. Whoops! Did he space out again? Hehe, space…get it? Because they're in space? He's spacing out in space! What fun is wordplay!
Makemake blinked, embarrassment reddening his already very red surface as the faces of all the other dwarf planets (plus Charon) filled his vision. Their eyes bore into his skull, searching and questioning and igniting a slight panic in his core (he was taking too long. He was being too annoying and too-much just like always. Why do you always do this Makemake?), "Ah, apologies my dear friends! Just got caught up in my thoughts."
Sitting to Makemake's right, Haumea sent the redder celestial a small, shy grin, wrapping his weighted blanket further around his shoulders, "It's okay Makemake…"
"Yeah!" Charon, from further down the line, her voice tinged with a tired drawl to it as her body basically melted into Pluto's, added. Ah yeah, she would be tired: Ceres was a handful and she did the most work out of all of them to take care of him. Speaking of which…tiny, squeaking snores could be heard from underneath the table, after they finally managed to put Ceres asleep, and wow was the tiny dwarf planet a deep sleeper. Hmm, they really need to do something to thank Charon…throw a party maybe?
After Makemake's own party of course!
Another wave of giddiness crashed over Makemake at the reminder, the warm, fluffy feeling turning to the energetic buzz beneath his surface. His leg bounced in his place in his seat, fingers drumming against the table, the feeling expanding in his chest like a bubble.
Focus, Makemake. Focus so you can get this done and celebrate your birthday afterwards.
Makemake pulled himself back into the present, the happy energy continuing to build in the back of his mind (so one half of his mind stayed on that, replaying the thoughts over and over again and nurturing the whimsical light), "Anywho! You walk along the red carpet–"
"Ooh! Like one of Earth's special Earthlings? The thing you showed us when there were a bunch of flashing lights?" Haumea interrupted, and yet no anger or frustration plagued any of the surrounding kind and patient faces. Heh, yup, and that's what Makemake loved about these guys–they were all on the same wavelength and understood one another like nobody else could. It was so much better than hanging with the planets (except for Uranus and Neptune, because the two of them were like the dwarf planets too!), there were no expectations to be held to, no pressure to act "normal."
Normal was boring anyways. What even was being normal? There were so many celestials in this Solar System, and yet Makemake was pretty sure none of them were normal.
"–think so, but you would have to ask Makemake."
Makemake caught the mention of his name, tuning back in on the conversation with another blink to reset his thoughts, and a warm smile, "Ask me what?"
Pluto glanced at the dwarf planet at the head of the table, his eyes filled with that curious drive Makemake always sought for. Learning new things and chasing the unknown was so cool! Like, he could be the first one to make the unknown known, how cool is that?!
His legs bounced faster (alternating one after the other left-right-left-right-left-right), Makemake leaning over the board as Pluto nodded to Eris, who was sitting on Makemake's other side and tossing one of the dice up and down in her hands, "Eris was just wondering why Earth's humans do the red carpet thing? Is it just for show?"
"Ah! Yes!" Makemake knew this! He'd read an article a little while back about the history of show business (just for fun, but to also accurately play an actor character in one of their campaigns), and the facts were all rolling back. The excited energy pushed against the edges of his mind, and he'll go back to DM'ing in a second. He just has to say this now before he forgets, "It's kind of like that, but it was also for showing how powerful you are. Like a 'everybody look at me, I'm so prestigious and noble and famous that I get to walk on this fancy carpet.'"
"Why was it a carpet?" Haumea asked hesitantly, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion, "Wouldn't it be better to have something else?
Makemake just shrugged, taking his pencil back in his hands and gathering the pieces of paper in front of himself again, "Who knows? Humans are weird."
Sounds of agreement rippled throughout the gathering, and Makemake made a mental note to have that be on the list of things to not say if he ever meets Earth. It wouldn't be very nice to insult the planet with Life, let alone say the grand accomplishment is weird. It would probably anger the terrestrial planet, or get them off on the wrong foot, so Makemake tucked it in the back of his mind for another time.
But for this time, he had a game to finish. And a birthday to reveal. And happiness and love to be felt in surplus amounts!
Eugh, but he really needed to get better at staying on task. He wanted to! He really, really wanted to do this, but all his other thoughts were so much more interesting. Dungeons and Dwarf Planets wasn't boring, per say, but for some reason his mind declared that it wasn't suitable for his attention.
And what was funny (and extremely infuriating as well), is that nothing was deemed worthy enough for his full attention. It only got half, or a fourth, or an eight, or a sixteenth, or a thirtysecondth or…you get the point.
It was incredibly annoying, but at least it wasn't the worst he's felt! He just needed to have stuff running in the background in order to load whatever tab he had open. Hah! Computer jokes! Minds are like computers, in a way, with how complicated they are and the way they send and process information. He could go on and on about it!
Oop, but maybe later. Maybe with Neptune or someone else–not now when he had a job to do.
It's simple enough. He can do this. Just follow the script and everything will fall into place.
Makemake clapped his hands together, heads snapping to the front of the table as he regained their attention. Good, good, now keep it that way and don't get distracted again. He scanned the group, shifting into character and summoning the image of the king in his mind.
Breathe in, and out, you got this.
"The king greets you with a warm smile, one that welcomes you home," Makemake narrated, shifting in place and straightening his shrimp-like posture, deepening his voice to gather up all the snobby regal-ness he could manage without bursting into laughter, "'Ah, so you have survived your perilous journey! What a splendid surprise!"'
"Suprise?" Charon's voice pitched higher, her eyes widening as she glanced up to Pluto, and then back to Makemake, "What do you mean surprise?!"
Shoot, he didn't mean it that way–and now they're going off script no no no no–Makemake stumbled over his words, scrambling to improvise and steer them back on track, "'Oh–oh well any journey has its dangers! I am just glad you made it home safe.'" Thankfully, that seemed to satisfy Charon as she settled back down, the tension in the air melting away.
Great job, Makemake!
Thanks, Makemake!
You're the best, Makemake!
Aw thank you, Makemake. Continue on!
Makemake ran a hand through his messy hair, his core-beat picking up in his chest. Excitement, but also impatience settled in his mind, the need to be loved taking over every thought. He needed them to know–to say something! If they realized on their own, he wouldn't even have to worry about this!
If…if they remembered at all, that is.
Mmm nope, nuh uh. Of course they remembered! Makemake always remembered their birthdays, had it marked down on all his calendars, and always made sure to wish the birthday-celestial a happy birthday! He never forgot, and held it to himself to give all his friends the best birthday possible for being his best friends.
(...best friends? No, no is that too much? Just normal friends? Acquaintances? What decides the line between those? Is it arbitrary? Do you have to agree on it? Does it just happen? But then, how do you know when it happens? Does Makemake truly have any friends then, because he thinks they are, but when was the last time they confirmed that?)
Oh, ew okay his thoughts got too loud again. Ow. Hmm, well when that happens the best thing to do is just shove them away and ignore every icky part of him!
Makemake cleared his throat–in part to get his voice to work with the character act he put on, but also to get rid of the awkwardness that was probably everywhere now that Makemake spaced out and left them hanging. Again. Stars, how many times was that going to happen before he learned? Ugh–he dropped his hands under the table and pinched his hand hard.
The slight bit of pain cleared his chaotic mind, allowing for Makemake to continue the story, "The king stands from his throne, staff in hand, as you come to the foot of the stairs leading up to where he stands. He moves slower these days, age plaguing his old bones, but still he holds an immense amount of strength as he stares down upon you–"
"I roll for perception."
"Wha–" Makemake snapped his head to Eris, confusion rolling throughout his mind like thunderclouds. And yet, the other dwarf planet seemed confident in her decision, dice in hand and eyes sparking with that subtle determination. No, no that doesn't make sense–the king had nothing to hide! He was a fair and kind-hearted ruler…unless Makemake failed in expressing that. Makemake tilted his head, ignoring the slight waves of panic eating at the edges of his mind, "Why would you do that?"
Eris shrugged, her slow, monotone voice frustrating Makemake (why can't everyone be as fast as him? No one has time for talking so slowly, just hurry up!!!), "I dunno. He seems fishy."
Fishy? Fishy??? What about him is fishy?! There's nothing! Nothing at all! Trying his best to hide the annoyance, Makemake leaned back in his gravity with a heavy sigh, "Alright then, if you really want to." He doesn't know why she would choose to do this, but it's a game of choices. Eris can choose to do whatever she wants to do.
"Nat 20."
…okay well now he's screwed.
Pluto's surprised whistle raked down Makemake's ears, stabbing the insides of his brain like a bunch of knives. The red dwarf planet grimaced against the sound, his hands instinctively clenching into fists, his thoughts whirling faster and faster, angrily trapped inside his mind. Okay. Uhm, well he didn't plan for this. So…so maybe…think Makemake think!
That's the one thing you are good at.
That's your only worth–the only thing the others like you for. So focus, snap out of your own thoughts, and just improvise! It's easy, you've done it a thousand times before. Don't panic, stop panicking, why are you panicking–
He had a plan. It was perfect. It was going to be amazing and everyone would love it and love him and then wish Makemake a happy birthday.
He–he can still salvage this! That can still happen! He just…needs to figure out a way to fix this.
Makemake swallowed past the growing lump in his throat (the existence of it only slightly worrying, as he had much more important matters to attend to), pushing up his glasses as the world around him sharpened back into focus. He forced a deep, tad bit unsteady breath in, clearing his dizzy mind so he could actually think.
Okay. Okay come on, he can do this. It's not that big of a deal–why is he making it such a big deal?! He's smarter than this. He should be better than this.
Makemake dropped his gaze down to the board, staring at the figurine of the king, and before he knew it, the words were just rolling off his tongue…
"Despite the warm, welcoming greeting devoid of any villany, you–Lady Erissa the Rogue–have your suspicions about this king. With your…uhm…amazing eyesight and investigation skills, you notice bits of crumbs sticking to the king's robes, something pink, almost like frosting, still stuck to his cheeks. He's holding his belly like he's just eaten a glorious feast, and there seems to be bits of chocolate stuck under his fingernails. Behind him, a guard seems to be holding a plate that is mostly empty, save for a few bits of a sugary and sweet pastry."
"Ohmigosh!" Charon suddenly exclaimed, her eyes lighting up with excitement as Makemake finished describing the king, "Is he eating cake? Is it his birthday?"
It's mine too, Makemake wanted to scream, his core aching in a deep, yawning sadness–nope. No sad. He can't be sad on his birthday! That ruins the whole point of it!
…it also ruins if if nobody remembers–
Makemake ignored every painful feeling festering in his core, plastering on a fake smile and exclaimed with (hopefully) the same exuberance as Charon, "Yes! It is indeed, his birthday. It seems your return interrupted his birthday celebration. Is there anything you would like to do?"
Haumea shifted, a shy smile twitching on the edges of his cheeks, "...can we sing 'happy birthday' to him?"
"O–oh. Uhm…" Well, like, yes of course you can…but the way Makemake's core clenched and the bad pressure crawled up his throat, he internally pleaded for them not to. It would mean this fictional character, that Makemake hastily created to promote his birthday, would get to celebrate it before he would. A fictional character…something that's not even real!
Makemake was real (right? Eugh, no he's not getting into all that right now), Makemake cared and loved and appreciated others. Makemake was important, Makemake made a difference, Makemake was supposed to be the one to be sung happy birthday to!
But instead, a stupid, made-up character got it before him.
His friends cared for this silly little persona, they cared that it was his birthday and immediately thought to sing happy birthday to it. They did it without a second thought. Are they singing now? Or is that just the ringing in Makemake's ears? He can't tell. It's all blending together into a gigantic, chaotic mess.
Oh. Okay. So they care more about that made up thing more than him.
They don't care about him.
They didn't remember.
Makemake–stars he always remembered! He remembered Pluto's birthday and his demotion date, two of which the former planet disliked! And Makemake remembered that! He remembered and tried to make Pluto's birthday the best he could make it!
Charon, Eris, Haumea, Triton, stars, even Ceres! Makemake remembered Ceres' birthday! And the tiny dwarf planet didn't even care about it!
So why, when it was his turn to be given that same love, was he just forgotten.
Of course. Of course it was him. Makemake, forever cursed to be too much for anyone to deal with, and yet never enough. Never enough to be loved. Never enough to be wanted. Never enough to just exist–he had to prove himself worthy in order to exist alongside anyone.
And now even that failed.
Was he worth anything?
Obviously not, if a stupid made-up creation got all the love Makemake thought he deserved.
But–but nope. Nuh uh! He doesn't get that! Silly Makemake!!! Why'd he think he was worth anything? They just kept him around so they could play games, they didn't actually care about him. They just used him. Didn't see anything past the Dungeon Master that planned all their campaigns–hand-crafting them specifically to their interests.
But that's fine.
That's okay.
It's Makemake's fault for being so forgettable.
He shouldn't be upset over this. He–he needs to get a handle on himself! Suck it up. Boo hoo, your friends didn't remember your birthday–so what? Who cares! It's just a silly little birthday! It'll come around next year. It's not that big of a deal. He's making a ruckus of something so small and pathetic.
There were people out there with actual problems, and Makemake's sitting here spiraling over not getting sung happy birthday?
Wow. For being the supposedly "smart one," he was pretty dumb.
"–ake! Hey! Makemake!"
Wha–huh? Who…oh nevermind. He just got stuck in the whirlpool of his own thoughts again, dragged down into the icy depths of the swirling ocean. Great. Good ol' Makemake, never managing to pay attention to anything.
"Makemake–" pressure bloomed on his shoulders, hands digging into his surface just enough for it to be uncomfortable, but not too painful. His skin tingled–the bad tingle with the bad energy and the bad feelings spreading like wildfire–his thoughts still spiraling wildly out of control. But the grip on his shoulders tightened, and the pain sliced through his mind like a knife, cutting a clear path to freedom.
And Makemake flinched away from the overlaying–loud–voices, suddenly taking in a sharp, wheezing breath. Oh. Oh, ow. Why is it so hard to breathe? Is he dying? Will he die on the same day he was born?
His vision blurred, and Makemake squinted against the fuzziness surrounding his vision, pushing his glasses back up (they were already as high as they could be), and willing his vision to go back to normal. His breaths shook, despite his best efforts to keep them stable, concerned faces quickly filling up his view.
Pluto's hand squeezed Makemake's shoulder, a soft greeting this time instead of the previous harsh grasp. Concern, confusion, and care clouded his eyes–eyes. So many eyes. All staring at you. Judging you. Deeming you unworthy–the bigger dwarf planet tilting his head to the side in worrying question, "You alright? It looked like for a second you were having a panic atta–"
"I'm fine!" The lie came quickly. Rolling off his tongue like one of the tall-tales he spun.
"Hah! Like we believe that," came the sharp bark of laughter, and Makemake scowled, huffed, and pointedly turned away from Eris. It didn't matter what she thought. He was fine. He was just being silly and over-dramatic. But everything's fine, and if they didn't believe him, then that's their problem!
"Makemake…"
Nope. Everything's fine! Don't talk to him that way! He's in no need of a voice so soft and gentle–what he does need is for everyone to just go back to their seats so they can continue playing. That'll make everyone happy.
And that's all Makemake ever wanted.
Someone being happy, means that he succeeded. And so he's worth something. And so he can be loved and wanted and his birthday gets remembered–
Wait…
Why–why did it suddenly become so quiet?
Makemake willed his now much more blurry vision to focus again, his eyesight sharpening against the tears–tears? Ah no no no he can't be crying–to reveal four stunned, horrified, dismayed, and every other word for being shocked, expressions painted across his friends' faces.
Oh. So he probably said that out loud.
Whoops.
Stars above this is going to be fun…
"It's…it's your birthday?"
"Why didn't you tell us?!"
"I swear I don't remember you saying anything about it…"
"And…and you are loved, Makemake. And you don't need a silly game to prove that…"
Makemake shook his head, his hands clenching back into fists as the panic rose up higher. Choking him. Strangling every breath and clawing through his core. Ah, okay well he messed up! Big time! He, uhm, now has to get out of here. He ruined the game, ruined the mood, ruined everything–
But before he could take a step back–before he could take off running into the depths of the Kuiper Belt to hide away from the mortifying feelings–someone wrapped themselves around his waist and pulled him back. Pulled him back into his seat, back into reality.
…and back into the arms of those he loved most.
Murmurs, apologies, words of love and encouragement–they all fell deaf to his loudly ringing ears as more arms joined the hug. More arms wrapped around Makemake's trembling shoulders, sinking down to the ground and keeping him from running off. Ah, okay so that won't work. Uhm…hmm…he can't think of another plan.
He just can't really think, period.
The sudden, overwhelming affection short-circuited his mind, filling it with happy warmth–but the spiraling thoughts still held their suffocating grip on him. And wouldn't let go. And made everything icky and wrong and horrible. The two conflicting feelings fought in his mind, clashing within the inky depths, drudging up fog that clouded his thoughts and weighed down on his mind. His core flip-flopped, twisting and clenching with every second that passed and his friends' forms stayed pressed against his.
A hand carded through his hair, scratching at his scalp in a way that sent shivers down his spine. A face smushed against his chest, his core hammering against his rib cage so loudly there was no doubt they could clearly hear it. The warmth of all their bodies huddled together tickled his surface, the tension slowly leaking from his body the longer they all stayed there.
He hated this.
He loved this.
…stars above, he really needed this.
His breaths hitched, the tears flowing more freely now, but nobody mentioned it. The arms just squeezed tighter, compressing the hug closer together, squishing them into one homogeneous being. His core fluttered happily–despite Makemake practically sobbing at the moment, but whatever. Feelings were weird and confusing–a sense of safety and comfort wrapping around the gaggle of dwarf planets (plus Charon) all huddled together.
Okay so, well, maybe his birthday didn't go as planned.
…but maybe, just maybe, this was far better than anything he could've imagined.