A Mess, a Child, and a Wreck Walk into a Park... [Closed]

This time, she at least remained of this world as she laid there. Maintaining this illusion was a serious battle. The pains that rattled around in her vacant skull made every second of focus a waking nightmare. She couldn’t let the glamor, fade, only a schmuck would let something like severe traumatic brain injury get in the way of illusions. While she couldn’t see what was going on, she was, at the very least, able to hear. What she didn’t hear was any mention of how “friggin’ great” any of her non-existent tea snacks were.

It was Skitter that would break the awkward silence, and with a demand that was very unfortunate for Wiseguy. After much resistance she flipped herself over. She was clearly beaten; her eyes replaced by thick black swirls, and a steady stream of drool escaping her mouth. Luckily, the sort of stupid pride that would drive someone to maintain a spell that was killing them, for nothing more than petty gratification, was also the sort of pride that would demand that she destroy what was left of her sanity for the sake of said petty gratification. She flipped herself back on her stomach, “Yeah… I’m friggin’ thtahvin’**, now that ya mention it...” She weakly groaned, dragging herself along the ground.

Every step of the way, she had to alter the spell. Lifting her arm up and snatching a doughnut from the table, required a painful amount of intricate and nuanced thought. Simply holding that doughnut near her mouth, was met with shaking. She knew it wasn’t real, but she could pla along. Before she bit down, she expected nothing, but when she did she felt something she she knew she shouldn’t. This wasn’t a doughnut at all! It was a ring of spiders! From her position on the ground, she gave world’s weakest thumbs up, “Ten out of ten. I friggin’ imprethth mythelf thometimeth.”

**Starving/Stahvin'

Skitter wasn't the best at reading people. Dare I say, he's almost the worst at reading people. He's people illiterate. But there comes a point where others broadcast their feelings etc so much that even he begins to take notice. Whether he's right or not is irrelevant. This is one of those situations. The two before him stalled even more, before putting on an incredibly shoddy performance. One put the entire donut in his mouth, as if that was the normal way to eat it, and swallowed once. There's no way he could swallow the entire thing, he must be cheeking it. He then talked about Skitter being the Boss, and how their 'group' needed a name. The other was even more dramatic. She positively struggled to even speak about eating let alone doing it. Her performance looked as if she was eating the most disgusting thing on earth. Yeah, like Skitter was going to follow up after that.

Skitter figured he'd get one up on them then. He looked at all the food before him, and his eyes darted about the cloth.

"Oh, what me should eat.... Hmmmm...." He shrugged his one free shoulder, and managed to wiggle the other one in a dramatic fashion as if he couldn't decide. "It all look good... You guys try more, tell me what good." He opened his singular arm in a gesture of magnanimity, offering everything before him to the others.

He then looked at the fat dog, his smirk hidden under his sack.

"What are called? Hmmmmm...." He looked once more between the two of them, a sinister glint in his eye. "Called Food." He wasn't masking his intentions too well at this point, but his poor phrasing might throw them for a spin.

There was, I guess, trouble in paradise. Dote was far too easy-going to pay it much mind, though some part of him was worried about Wiseguy's continued discomfort. Purely for practical reasons. His concerns were importantly answered, his organization now had a name and that meant they could be identified and linked with their actions and obligatory puerile graffiti.

While Wiseguy labored to make a big deal of Skitter's refusal Dote helped himself to several of the husk-wrapped stuff. Masticating on the rough leaves slowly, like they were some kind of weird dried, boiled, and dried yellow eucalyptus. He thought they were a little spicy but there wasn't really much substance to them. He went through the five or so he had picked up without feeling any more sated. It was troubling in he didn't want to waste energy eating something that didn't give it back but at the same time he figured he was saving Skitter the trouble of eating the obviously bad menu item.

In between every few tamales he'd slurp some chili or suck down a noodle. After every bite he'd end up making a thumbs up for Skitter to see to prove that everything was alright.

After one big gulp he spoke up, "Good name, we have plenty of it."

Despite the heavy quivering that failed to complement her postering, Wiseguy personally thought she was looking pretty intimidating. What cemented this thought in her mind was the reaction she managed to get out of Skitter. Half of what he had said had fallen on deaf ears. After the centipede-esque monstrosity left go of “You beat me.” she couldn’t care less that what followed was every one of her demands being rejected. Still, what was important was the fact that her illusory spread was bundled up and being handed to her.



She was able to relax. No longer did she have to strain her own abstract idea of “thought” to maintain a petty façade. A sigh of relief left Wiseguy’s lips, as she became visibly less tense. For a moment of calm thought she closed her eyes, but when she opened eyes she found herself even more puzzled than she was before. Skitter was offering up the tablecloth, which looked suspiciously like the tablecloth at the old woman’s house. No longer pained, she was in the perfect place to go through an complex emotional response like being perplexed. Everything this Digimon said was a riddle.



“Food plathe?” She repeated. That was probably the most straightforward of these riddles; a food place was a corner store. She especially liked the regular this one particular shop manned by an especially unattentive teenager. Her plan for the day had her dropping by to steal some milk tea and some crawfords, so maybe killing two birds with one stone was the way of the day. Once more, letting her pride get in the way of self-preservation, she engerized, “Yeah. I know a guy.” Finally she accepted the garbage filled cloth, knowing full well that it could be filled to the brim with many snacks of actual substance. Hoisting the sack over her shoulder, she called to Dote, “You thtill got room after thtuffin’ your fathe over there? Friggin’ pervert.”

"Get going." Skitter didn't wait for the doll to show him the way, no no. He was leading the way himself, despite not knowing where the corner store was. Surely these large 'people' paths lead to places that 'people' go. If the corner store is where 'people' go, then these paths must lead to it. Basic logic.

He walked, crawled, something along those lines, over towards the path, and displaced several people who didn't want to be near him at all. He then slithered along down the path that lead out of the park, and towards the street. He was fairly positive that the store wasn't in the park. He glanced back to make sure the other two were coming. In doing so, he walked near a bench with a stroller parked next to it. The mother was too busy reading a magazine to notice the monstrosity walking by.

Not seeing the stroller in his path, Skitter barreled through it and kept on going. The stroller fell to the side with a crash. Oops. Why was there some strange metal junk in his path? The mother dove down to the collapsed contraption, screaming in panic. Skitter disregarded her reaction and kept on trucking on towards the street. People were so strange. When he reached the exit, Skitter paused to wait for his two cohorts.

Dote was following closely behind Wiseguy, having been spending his time figuring out that he wasn't really needed. He played his part like he usually did, observing (apparently more than his compatriots). He was perfectly aware that Skitter was going to walk into something, and that the small procession of strange creatures had drawn more attention though most people were avoiding the cyclops centipede with a large blade. He saw that monster walk into a stroller and spill it over. A woman-ish human nearby making some hullabaloo while scooping out the contents of the stroller and making a break for it. Probably for the same reason everyone else was giving Food a wide berth.

Wiseguy was doing some other cruel thing, smacking somebody's property... Property they'd abandoned... It had wheels!

Dote busied himself plodding after the stroller, setting it up right and then tugging on Wiseguy's arm while pointing at the stroller with a claw.

"Let's use it, beats walking."