Life with Rarimouse and Friends 7/28/13

This is growing beyond my control

--

>Winter is coming.
>Or it already came.
>You hate winter.  Heart and soul you hate it.
 >And brought snow and cold and everything getting dark by five-thirty in the freaking afternoon.
>You hear a frantic scratching and gnawing sound on your back door.
>Yeah, winter brought other things too.
"Dude.  Open up, it's me!"
>Sonuva- you'd have to get up from the depths of your couch and the small coccoon of blankets you've wrapped yourself in to get to the door.
"Seriously.  Open the door.  C'mon."
>It took you mintues, MINUTES to settle in.  You are at maximum comfy.  And the rest of the house is at maximum cold.
"OPEN THE FREAKING DOOR OR I'LL DIVE THROUGH THE WINDOW."
>You breathe a lot of chilly air to fuel a loud and extended groan.
>You kick out with your arms and legs, sending a storm of blankets flying across the room.  you step on a warm comforter and shimmy over your cold hardwood floors over to the front door.
>"I'm coming, don't die of frost bite in the two seconds it's gonna take me to open the door."
>You open the door to a blue and rainbow smear bolting over you and into the house.
>Dirt, leaves and snow trail behind Rainbow Wolf.  Your skin tightens and your balls escape into the depths of your stomach as gusts of icy wind force their way into your home like wayward children in a Sunny D commerical.
>You slam the door, replace the towl on the bottom crevice, and lock all available locks.  No cold or solicitors allowed.
>You turn around and prepare to haul it back onto the couch, but you see Rainbow walking a back and forth on its seats and mouthing at blankets.
>"What in god's name do you think you're doing?"
>She drops a snuggie and sits on her haunches, flicking her head back to get some of the hair out of her face.
"Yeah, my knees are going to shatter if I don't de-ice them.  Just getting comfortable, guy."
>She grabs a blanket and yanks her head in semi-circles, making an almost-burrow out of your cushions.  She sighs happily.  All you can see of her is a long, heavily wagging tail sticking out of the pile.
"Thanks for keeping the couch warm."
>"Rain, you're covered in mud and leaves and crap.  Get off my couch."  She sticks her long muzzle out of Mount Comfy.
"Nope."
>You can see paw prints and smears of brown, nearly melted snow all over your couch.  Leaves are scattered all over it.  You can't possibly get comfy now.  She's snickering now.
>Okay, fine, if you can't be warm, than neither can that flea-ridden shoe-chewer.  You quietly creep up to the pile.
>"I guess just this once I can let you chill out, I mean it is pretty-" you make a grab and hoist her in the air.  She smells like cold air and foliage.
>Fuck, she's heavy.  One hundred pounds, at least.  And she's kicking.
"Lemme go!"
>"No!"
>She starts growling and turning her head to bite you.  You can see her sharp, bright canines come very close to your face. Her writhing sends you both to the ground.
>The cold, heartless ground.
>You freak out as the floor threatens to steal all your precious body heat.  You let go of Rainbow and she cackles, calls you a lightweight and bolts back to the couch.
>You activate your emergency heat reserves and haul yourself back to your feet.  Rainbow grabs a mouthful of blanket and bolts down a hallway.
>"THOSE ARE MINE YOU CAN'T HAVE 'EM!"  She muffles an insult back at you, but you can't understand her with a jaw full of cloth.
>You grab a few covers that she couldn't carry and wrap them around you.
>You chase after her.
>She's holding her head high, trailing the sheets behind her.  Your wrapped up like a mummy wearing Budweiser pajamas and wool socks.  She makes a sharp left and runs down an adjacent hallway, you try to match it, but slide along the floor and slam into the wall.
>She trails through the den area and into the kitchen.  You try to cut her off, but she keeps zig-zagging.
>"Once I catch you, I'm taking you the SPCA and trading you in for a pair of pomeranians!"
>That hit a button.  She stops and stares at you with a look that says she'd stab you with a sword if she could hold one.  She drops the blankets.
"Pomeranians?  I can EAT Pomeranians!  Just try and -uh-oh."
>Your still running full speed at her.  You can't stop.   You try to, but instead you just trip over yourself, allowing the momentum and hardwood floor to let you slide directly into her.
>She yelps louldly as you, hear, and a bundle of blankets collide into the wall.  You are both very angry as you untangle yourselves.
>"Oh jeeze, I hope you broke your legs."
"Well I hope I get the chance to infect you with rabies one day."
>"Try it.  Just try it."
"I don't even NEED rabies.  I'm biting your face off when your asleep."
>You hear a soft gasp come from the kitchen entrance.
"What happened in here?!?"
>You and Rainbow look at Flutterwolf guiltily. Her fluffly ears are lowered back over her head.
"We, uh...
>"There was a..."
"And then..."
>"All over the place."
"Exactly."
>You manage to stand and spit out a leaf.  Rainbow untangles a paw from a sheet.  She looks at you.
>"Uh...have a good nap, Flutters?"
"Oh, it was nice...but then I heard all that commotion and got worried.  I didn't know if you two were hurt or..."
>Rainbow pipes up.
"Nah.  No way, we're fine.  Chummy.  Just trying to...get our heartrates up.  To get warm.  Because it's cold."
>"So we had a race."
"I won!"
>Fluttershy managed a weak smile.
"Oh, well that's nice, I suppose.  But you really shouldn't be running around like this, you might get sick.  It may be better if we all just went to the livingroom where it's warmer!"
>"Kay."
>The three of you go to the livingroom.  You sit on one end of the couch, flutters in the middle, and rainbow on the opposite side.  Flutterwolf picks up on the unvoiced tension between the two of you.  It's practically creaking.

>You eye the damage done.  Skid marks of mud.  Leaves.  Pawprints.  House smells like wolf now.
"Anon?"
>Flutterwolf is looking at you with those big almost-glowy ocean-blue eyes.  "Yeeeaahhh?"
"Erm.  I know that you've been used to being by yourself way out here."
>Not exactly.  You live way out in the middle of freaking nowhere.  The only positive thing you can think of is that you can take a pee wherever you goddamned pleased.
"And I know that we're not the most easy-going houseguests."
>You raise an eyebrow and Rain.  She sticks her tongue out and sneers at you.  Oh, you are going to get her.
"I want you to know that we appreciate it."
>She looks at Rainbow.
"We BOTH appreciate it."
>She smiles at you.  "Oh...well...you know, I couldn't just let you...y'know...run around out there by yourselves.  Being new to the place and all."
>"Even if one of you did bite me," you mutter.
>Rainbow coughs.
"Yeah, I'm almost sorry about that.  Almost.  But yeah, thanks for letting us crash here and eat all your food."
>You snort.  "Good enough for now."  Rainbow silently mouths 'loser' when Flutters looks away.
>Flutterwolf yips happily and grabs the biggest blanket lying on the floor.  She jumps lightly up onto the armrest of the couch and circles around you and rainbow, wrapping you up somewhat snuggly.  Satisfied with her work, she wiggles in next to you you again.
"There, much better."
>An ear flicks back.
"This is better?  You both feel comfortable, right? This good, isn't it?"
>You have to chuckle.  This one.  This pup right here.
>"It's tons better.  My arms not going to freeze off now."  Rainbow speaks up.
"Yeah, real cushy, Flutters."
>She squeals again.  Oh god, it's like rubber duck.  She shuffles over to hug you, then she shuffles over and hugs Rainbow.  She's much less receptive to her shows of affection.
"Kay, Okay!  Cut it out, you're gonna mess up my mane and everything."
>You look at her hair.  The mussy, tangle-headed wolf is  sharp contrast to the smooth, and well-groomed Flutters.
>"Your mane would get off your head and fly away if it was any more messed up."
"Oh, I'm sorry."
>Flutters licks her paw and runs it through Rain's mane, trying her best to straighten it out.
>Rainbow scrunches her face and bears it rather than telling her to stop and risk upsetting Flutters.
>She's probably gonna decide to chew on your computer wires again to get back at you.
>You laugh at her.
>Oh yeah, she's gonna eat your PC.
>Let her.  You lean back on your dirtied couch.  It's still pretty comfy, all things considered.

---


>Walking along the sidewalk late at night.
>You just need some fresh air and time to think.
>Yes.  Getting a whole lot of good, solid thinking done.
>Step step step step....
>You pass underneath a streetlight just as it pops and blinks out, you jump and freeze up accordingly.
>Well that's certainly horrifying.
>Okay, enough walking and thinking, time to go home.
>Turn around, walk back at a very brisk pace down an emtpy quiet street.
>Mostly quiet...
>You hear the wind blow.
>Wait a sec...that's not the wind...
>You look up at the dark night sky.  You can barely see the slow drift of clouds, but then you see a darker shadow slip across the purple fields.
>Oh shit.
>Time to run.
>Your arms pump up and down as you haul it hard down concrete.
>You hear a low whistle in the distance.
>Oh hell.
>You're running as fast as you can, you're definitively screwed.
>You hear the beats of wings.
>You can see your house, your almost there!  You just might make it, just a little mo-
>Something heavy hits you across the back and slams you to the ground.  You feel claws tear at your jacket.
>Your head throbs as you pull it away from the concrete and into a snarling jaw full of teeth and glowing red eyes slightly obscured by a wild mane.
"Ha!  Gotcha loser! "
>Rainbow wolf pounces off of you and hovers in the air, kicking her legs in victory.
"Tag, you're it!"
>She sticks her tongue out at you and takes off into the night sky.
>You hold your head in your hand and roll into the grass while groaning loudly.
>Another pair of wings beat timidly near you.
"Um...I asked if her if she wanted to play a game of I-spy instead, but she insisted on hide-n-seek."
>"Yeah...thanks for the effort, Flutters."  You force an eye open and look at her.  "Don't suppose you'd let me tag you?"  She looks around nervously and hovers several feet higher.
"Well, you see, she told me not to make it too easy on you.  She said it was against the rules.  I'm sorry."
>She flies away, tail tucked between her legs.  She looks back at you and picks up her voice.
"But I do hope you win, though!"
>She disappears.
>Flying wolves.
>You share your house with flying talking wolves.
>You nurse a slowly swelling bruise on your forehead and wonder why you couldn't have ended up just being a crazy cat person instead

-

>There were a lot of words you could use right now.  Freaky.  Scary.  Weird.
>You crossed your arms.  It was either that or cover your mouth to keep yourself from screaming in terror.  The sight of your entire entertainment room covered in spider webs had that effect.
>The ceiling fan couldn't even turn because it was knitted so tightly with the stuff.  All the lamps were covered and gave off an eerie, diffused glow.  You hear a sweet piping voice behind you.
"So what do you think?"
>You didn't want to look at her just yet.   Every time you did you got a severe attack of the jibblies.  You just closed your eyes and counted to three to keep your heart rate level.
>"I see you've made yourself at home."
>You heard her skitter up behind you and onto the ceiling.
"Oh yes!  I felt bad for taken up an entire room in your house, but I did a few things to help you out!"
>Help.  Help, she says.  Oh yes, you needed some help alright.
>"How...uh...how so?"  Be polite.  Don't be rude.  This was the last living thing on Earth you wanted to upset.
>You heard her clap her forehands...arms...spindly limb things, or whatever.
"Well, if you look here, you can see how I arranged all of your games and tv and cd players and blu-ways or whatever you call them to keep them from heating up and taking up less space."
>You just nod.
"Aren't you going to open your eyes and see?"
>"Oh, yeah, I can...yes, I can."  You peek open one eye for a split second to see your various media players stuck to the wall in an orderly fashion.  You see her shadow move into view before squeezing your eyes closed again.  "Neat.  Nice.  Love it.  I'm gonna go now."  You move to turn.
"Wait, there's more!"
>Why does God hate you?
"Erm.  On the wall I categorized all of your games and movies according to genre, title, actors, color...it looks much nicer, don't you think?  It'll be a lot easier for you to find!"
>She sounded like she was trying very hard to please you.  You told her several dozen upon dozens of times that her staying at your place was no...major problem.  Just acutely terrifying and somewhat psychologically scarring.  She just insisted on HELPING you.
>You open your eyes again.
>Yup.  All of your games and movies are more well displayed and positioned than you could have previously conceived. Covered in pockets of spider-webs and strands and netting.  Glorious, in its own way.  Pants-wetting, in another.
>You give her a shaky thumbs up and try to smile.
>"Y-yeah.  I couldn't possibly ask for better.  Literally.  Thank-you sooo...so very much.  Oh god."  You start to breathe really fast.
"Oh, I'm so happy you think so!"
>She hugs you.
>Oh.  Oh Jesus.  Oh sweet former Pope Benedict.
>She is TOUCHING you.
>SpiderTwi is TOUCHING YOU.
>You feel her eight long, strong, hairy limbs wrap around you and squeeze. It's not a death grip, but you'd rather be constricted by a python.
>A small high pitched squeal escapes your throat.  You can feel the fur on her face brush against your cheek.
"Are you okay?"
>She pulls back and you look into her big purple eyes.  Her puffy chelicera/thing by her mouth that holds the stingers twitch uncertainly.
>"Yes.  Fine.  Perfect great wonderbar. Excuse me."
>You run into your bathroom and try to drown yourself in the sink.
>You hear a knock on the door.  You can't help but think which one of her eight legs she was using.
>"Out in a minute."  Or an hour.  Or never.  You can live the rest of your life in the bathroom, can't you?
>You heard shuffling on the other side of the door.  You're afraid to look down at the crack and see long, skinny dark purple legs grasping around for something.
"I...I got a little assumptuous there, didn't I?"
>You gurgle a non-commital 'ehhh' sound from the bottom of the sink.
>She groans at herself and you could hear her stomp on the floor.
"I'm sorry."
>"No, don't apologize."  You bubble.  "Not your fault.  It's just me."  Just being balls-to-the-wall freaked out by giant talking spiders.  "Just a minor mental speedbump."
"It's not your fault either."  She leans against your door.  "I'm sorry.  I'm just trying to make this work.  I know this is...I can't imagine what this is like for you.  I'm not...exactly something that you're used to."
>You can imagine her gesturing her arms around herself.
"I'm grateful.  I am.  To have a friend like you."
>Oh jesus, she just called you her friend.
"I hate to ask for more, but I think just a little bit of patience is the only thing I need from you."
>She sounds tired.
>You pull your face up from the sink full of water and gasp.
>Dammit all to hell.
>"Twi."  You hear her make little clicky noises.
"Yes?"
>"You shouldn't have to ask for anything. You're...uh...I WANT you to be here.  For lack of a better word."
"You do?"
>You wipe the sweat off your forehead.  "Yes.  Of my own free will and not because you freak the daylights out of me and I stay up at nights wondering what you would do if I asked you to leave."
"Wait, what?"
>"Nothing, nothing.  You just...shouldn't feel like you're imposing on me.  Psychologically or otherwise.  If anything, the only thing I'm going to ask from you is just a little bit of patience.  You're right.  I'm not used to you."  For a moment you wonder if you're as freeky-deeky to her as she is to you.  "I just need some time.  But I'll get there."  Kicking and screaming, yes, but you'll get there.
"I think we have to both try our best with this."
>"Yes.  Exactly, this is gonna be a two-way street thing, but, uh...we're doing pretty good so far."  You take a deep breath and slowly, very, very slowly, open the door.
>The bathroom light falls on a purple fuzzy spider that looks at you with a measure of pleading and hope.  She smiles.  The light reflects sharply off her stingers.
>You manage to smile and your eye only twitches a little bit.  "See?  Doing better already." You mutter through highly clenched teeth.
"Yeah," she says.  "Doing better."
>She rubs her pedilaps together.
"If you like, I can take down the webs in the backroom and put all your movies back to the way you had them."
>She's making a peace offering.  "Oh no.  It's your room now.  Do what you want with them, just...don't go rearranging my room.  Please.  For God's sake."  That is your last bastion of safety.
>She laughs and rears up a little on her back legs. For the love of all that is sane, why is she so BIG?
"I think I can manage that. Well, there are a few more changes I can make to my room. I'll just leave you some time for yourself."
>She smiles.
"If you'll pardon me."
>She scurries on the wall and towards the back of the house.
>It wasn't all bad, right? At least there weren't any bugs in your home now.
>Wait a sec...
>What happens when she eats all the bugs? What will she eat then?
>Your mind conjures a horrible mental image if your paralyzed body wound and bound upside down in a giant web.
>Giant glowing purple eyes are staring at you in the darkness.
>You can see glowing fangs.
>You hear the word 'delicious' echo in your head as the evil spider death shadow descends to feed upon your juicy nutritious innards.
>You lock the bathroom door and cry into your towels.
>One day at a time.

--

>Day you haven't gone crazy yet.
>Holding it together.  Giant spider girl hanging out in your house, but you're holding onto your sanity with sweaty, steel-braced palms.
>You can do this!
>"Afternoon Twi!"  You walk into the kitchen and wave to her.  She looks at you with a little more puzzlement than normal.
"Uh, hi."  She looks at a clock.  "Slept a little later than normal, are you okay?"
>You didn't fall asleep until 3:45 A.M. because you couldn't close your eyes out of raw terror knowing that there's a near-eldritch abomination sharing your roof.
 >But she's perfectly nice.  Perfectly.  Nice.
>"I'm doing awesome!  Did you sleep well?  Do you even sleep?"  She seems a little taken back.
"Well of course I do!  My sleep schedule rotates sometimes, depending on how I-"
>"Fascinating.  Wholly and truly.  Um."  You're proably going to regret asking this.  "Are you a 'stay-up-all-night' kinda girl?
"You mean nocturnal?  Most of the time.  But I do like to get out in the daytime!"
>So when you're asleep she is awake and aware, doing giant spider things.
>Hahahhaha.  That's a comforting thought.  You chuckle.
"What's so funny?"
>"Destiny. "  You open the fridge and grab a soda.  "You want a drink?"
"I, er...haven't really tried one of your drinks yet..."
>She eyes the can suspiciously.  Does she fear the soda can?  This deserves further investigation.
>"Well, you can try one.  It can't hurt, right?"
"I suppose not."
>You toss her a can that she catchs with three twisting arms.  She had two little claws on the end of her legs that she clicked and prodded the aluminum can with.
>It looks like she can't quite grasp the concept of how a soda can works.
>"You have to pop it open."  She speaks in a voice that sounds slightly distracted.  She seemed fascinated by the new thing.
"Oh, I know,  I'm just looking at it."
>She spins it around.
"It's rather pretty...."
>"It's grape fanta."
"I like it."
>She opens her mouth two long teeth fold out of her mouth and pierece into the steel can.
>Your mouth shoots wide open.
>Her pedilaps hold the can to her mouth as the fatter, puffier pincer holder thingums provide further stabilization.
>Her eyes focus and brighten on the can.
>She makes loud, long sucking noises.
>The can collapses into itself as its precious life juices are being extracted.
>Your eyes are cueballs.  Your pupils are pinpricks.
>She bites down several more times on the can to make sure she has indeed sucked all the soda away.
>She pulls the can out of her mouth and grabs a paper towel to wipe herself off.
"Ooh, that WAS good."  She spun the can around on her foreleg.  "Do you recycle?"
>You pointed to the plastic bag that you threw the cans into.  She carefully places the crushed, drained piece of metal into it.
>She looks at the soda can in your hand with vicious intent.
"Say, are you gonna drink that?"
>You can't move your body right now.  Your face is frozen in due horror.  Twi doesn't seem to notice.
>You squeak.  She takes it for a 'no, you can have this can.' and plucks it out of your fingers.
>She brings it to her mouth again just in time for you to find your sense of motor skills again.
>You bolt off like a meth head and barrel into your room while slamming the door.
>You can hear the death sprays of the poor soda from your room even after you press two pillows against your ears.
>You're going to hear the dying cries of that can in your sleep.
>If you ever sleep again, that is.

-

>Walking into the room easily ranked number one on the "List of Stupid Stuff Anon Did this Week."
>Those fangs were sharp.  Very really sharp.
>"Jajerlfehp," you mutter as your legs sign off and your knees decide to go on vacation, leaving you to slump helplessly to the floor.
"I'm sorry!  I'm sorry!"
>"Garljfkleikoop," you assure her.  There goes your back.  Your upper body is now falling over itself like a sad, wet newspaper.
"I'msorryI'msorryI'msorryimsorrysorrysohnoohnoimsoooosorry!"
>This must be what a dead fish feels like.
"Oh!  Why did you have to sneak up on me like that?"
>SpiderTwi is holding her arms over her mouth.  She's two parts shocked, three parts apologetic, and five parts embarassed.
>"Aarrdidensneekooop on youuu,"  You slur.
"I'm sorry!  I get skittish when something creeps up on me in the dark!  It's instinct!"
>"Whaaa dod yooo boootmeee?"
"It's instinct!  It's a reflex, I couldn't help myself!"
>Oh God. She knows how you taste.  She's going to eat you now.  No female can resist your tender, delicious flesh, no matter the species.
>She holds her hands...arm endings...claw dillies out in front of her in a calming way. Whether she's trying to calm herself or you is anyone's guss.
"You're going to be okay though!  Don't worry.  I just gave you a little paralyzing nip.  Nothing more than a graze!  Nothing serious.  Nothing serious at all."
>She laughs nervously.  She covers her mouth with her pedilaps.
"Oop.  No.  That's not funny."
>"noooo essssnut."  You try to move your arms.  Your pinkie manages to flick a bit.  She got you right over the shoulder.  It didn't really itch, thank goodness.


>Numbness is now setting into your extremities as her disabling poisons play havoc with your nervous systems -hijacking your muscles and telling to go around the corner and have a drink, or leading them off into dark back alleys to metaphorically whack them over the head with an equally metaphorical brick.
>"Howw long ississs gonna lasss?"  She takes a moment to decipher your slurrings.  She looks uncertain, a look which you certainly don't like.
"Well, I never really bit anything as big as you.  I can't say.  I'm surprised that little prick was strong enough to have this much effect on you."
>She looks up at the ceiling and smiles a little.
"Huh.  I guess I pack a little more punch than I thought."
>She shakes her head and looks down at you again.
"But it, uh, shouldn't be more than a few hours.  You'll be fine.  As long as you don't go into shock.  Which you won't!"
>"eehhhhhhh"  You try to put a bit more force into that scream.  "!"  She places an arm on your back that fails to reassure you.  Your brain recoils at the touch since your skin is unable to.  Oh god, it's all WARM and FUZZY.
"But it won't be all bad!  We can...um...just...hang out!  Yes, that's it!  Just relax, keep calm.  I'll keep you from getting to bored.  Just have to make the best out of any situation, that's what I say."
>You don't want to make the best out of this situation.  You didn't want to be in this situation in the first place.  You try to say something to the effect of 'Leave me alone, why won't god just kill me already?  Or has he done as much and this is my hell?'


>"Looooooollll" is all you articulate.
>She pats your head.
"Don't exert yourself.  The venom just digs deeper into your system that way." she says matter-of-factly.
>She carefully drags you over to the couch and deeper into the entertainment-center-turned-giant-spider-lair that was her room.
"We'll just watch some movies to pass the time.  I started one last night that I want to finish -James and the Giant Peach.  Have you seen it?"
>You have.
"Here, let me make sure you're comfortable at least."
>With unnering ease she hoists you up into a sort of funnelweb canopy that she built around the couch.  You stick and sag on the webbing.  It's....silky....
>Your brain refuses to process how the rest of it feels.  Oh god.  Oh jesus.  Oh buddha.  Oh bill nye the science guy.  You're on a spider web.  You are on a giant spider web.
>And the giant spider is thumbing through a shelf full of DVDs.  Her arms dance over the spines of the cases with the speed of dozens of inquisitive little fingers.  Searching.
"Ah, here it is."
>She pulls out the case and shows it off.   She walks in front of the tv and dvd player.
"You know, I think it's really neat the way they used little pieces of clay and make them move!  It put me off a little bit at first -it just looked so strange."
>Without looking, she worked several arms at buttons and placed the dvd in the player and turned the tv on.
"But after a while, the whole thing just sort of grows on you."
>You can only stare.  The glow of the tv behind her casts long, dark purple shadows.   Her eyes glint with the reflection.
"It's just really...fascinating.  How something weird and a little scary can turn into something...well, kind of nice."


>She grabs the remote and stalks over to the web couch.
>She places her legs on specific strands to avoid getting stuck.  She settles down next to you and starts the movie.
>You find yourself dozing off, even though the thought of falling asleep while paralyzed next to a giant spider fits the definition of 'suicidally retarded.'  You tried to convince yourself that she wasn't ACTUALLY going to eat you.  You were rationally, logically, sanely aware of this complete fact.
>And then you wake up and told rationality to burn in hell.
>You were being slowly spun around and wrapped up in webbing.  Her long arms pulled string from...wherever she made her string from and carefully placed it around you.  She was already up to your chest.  You tried moving your arms and legs, but what little control you had was cut off from the firm, yet admittedly soft binding.
 >You've had this nightmare before.  Wrapped all over in spider string and tucked away in the back of a pantry to be served for supper some other day.  Or injected full of baby spider eggs that would hatch inside your stomach and come crawling out of your nose and booty hole and eat your eyeballs like in that one scene in the mist and oh god why did you see that movie why damn you for making that stephen king why is this happening to your why why jesus why!
>"whaa..doong...."
>Twilight paused and shook her head as though she was coming out of a daze. Her mouth hung open for a moment before she blushed intensely.
"Oh!  I didn't even notice...um..." she laughed nervously.  "Just habit.  Instinct.  I'm sorry."
>She twiddled her arms and continued spinning you around while her eyes shift with quiet embarassment.



>She made it up to your head.  She left your nose and eyes uncovered.  So you could still see the movie of course.
>She sort of positioned herself over the top of you, still paying attention to the movie.  But her body language took on a much more possessive posture.  Probably to protect her lunch from anything that might try to come along and snatch you.
"Oh I love this part!"
>She poked your shoulder to make sure you were paying attention to the tv screen.
>It was the scene where they were fighting off the mechanical shark.  It was a good scene.
>She keeps a small running commentary on the film.  Laughing at this.  Wondering how they did that.  Making remarks on the innaccuricies of Miss Spider, even though she did like her.
>Mr. Grasshopper was her favorite character. She said the ladybug reminded her of her grandmother.
>You didn't even know spiders had grandmothers.
>The movie ended.  The characters all went to have dinner inside the giant peach seed.  The credits rolled.  SpiderTwi turned quiet.
"You ever think I'll be able to go outside and talk with people like they did in this movie?"
>You look at her from inside your mummy suit.
"I know this is just a silly movie, but I do like the ending."  She rests her head on your stomach.  "Everyone managed to live happily together."
>She plucked at a thread.
"I liked that they had to work for it, though.  Everyone had to face their fears and work hard, but they got the best life they could for themselves."
>She made a quick little exhalation and looked around the room.  You looked around too. Dark.  Adorned with patterned nets and silvery rope.


"I think...I can make it happen.  I just need time, and we all just need patience.  I like to think that we can all be friends."
>She looked down at you.
"After all, I get to be best friends with you."
>She smiles.
"As long as I don't bite anyone, but I think I can keep that under control, things just might work out."
>You twitch.
>You muffle from under your spider gag.
"Oh, feeling better?"
>Her little pincers clip at the side of your face.  The webbing falls apart over your mouth.
>"Gak.  Harf.  Aw.  Man.  My leg is asleep something fierce."
"Let me get that for you, then."
>She makes several quick snips along your length and you fall down from the webbing with a hearty 'thud.'
>"Yeah.  Yeah, that's better."  You try to stand and stumble forward a few steps.  You'd have to set up an appointment with a neurologist to make sure you didn't have any long term damage.  You look back at SpiderTwi.  She has her arms crossed close to herself.
"I hope your not too upset."
>You prepare to vocalize just how tramautized you are but...
>Your leg gives out again and you hit the floor face first.
"Oh, please take it slow!"
>You hear her scuttle over to help you up.
>"No, I got it, I'm fine!"  You say as easily as you can.  "Not upset.  No...this was..."  What WAS this?
>It was freaking WEIRD is what is was.  Right?  Right.


>But...
>"I like that movie too. It's been a long time since I last saw it."
>You lurch over to the door. "It was...um...nice."
"Really?"
>You had to pause. You look back at her. Your head looks around in search for something to say. 'Yes. It was nice getting frozen for two hours, thanks for not turning my insides into slush and sucking my guts out like some kind of giant icee,' is what you nearly say.
>Nearly.
>"Yeah...we should totally do it again." Is what you opt for.
>Her legs click and her pincers wiggle a little bit. Your spine wiggles a lot.
"Oh, sure! Of course! I'm sure I can find another movie we can watch."
>You swing a leg towards your room. "Heh. Looking forward to it." You swing the other leg.
>Yup. Sanity can go to hell.

-


-

"So when you have a Valentine, that's like is like...when guys and chicks get all bubbly and give each other presents and sneak out behind bushes and bite on each other's necks?  That's what Valentine's Day is for?"
>"For a lot of people, yeah."  You unplug your tv in the middle of an ad for super expensive, super crazy tasty chocolates.  Rainbow Wolf barks in outrage.
"HEY I WAS GONNA WATCH THAT!"
>"Nope. TV is a bad influence, and you're bad enough as it is."  You should've seen this coming.  Rainbow really liked watching TV, however TV was a prime way for her to learn about human stuff that she just didn't need knowing about.  Or at least things you didn't want to bother explaining.
"So why aren't you out chasing tail?"
>"Because I live an hour away from any form of civilization I'd want to be in contact with." You lean next to her ear and whisper "Present company included. "
>She snaps at you.
"If you had a valentine I would eat it."
>"If I had a valentine I'd have another pair of hands to keep you locked out of the house."
>Flutterwolf walks in.
"What are you two talking about?"
>Rainbow perks up and tosses her mane in your direction.
"Talking 'bout how much of a loser this guy can be.   He doesn't even have a Valentine."
>Flutters puts a worried paw up to her muzzle.
"Oh, is that a bad thing?  Is everyone supposed to have a valentine?"
"Cool people, I think."
>Flutterwolf shakes her head and looks between the two of you.  She mutters even more quietly under her breath.
>"This really isn't something you should worry about, Flutters..."
>She stamps a foot down with shocking force.  Almost hard enough to crush a marshmallow.
"No!  It IS something for me to worry about!"
>You and Rainbow look at each other.  Eyebrows are raised.  Flutterwolf raises her head high.
"I've seen some of those commercials too.  Everyone looks so happy giving and getting gifts from each other.  I can't imagine anyone feeling left out.  That just sounds -that sounds criminal is what it sounds like!"
>Her wings have kicked up at a defensive angle.  Flutters whips her head towards Rainbow.
"And anon IS cool."
>"I am?"
"He is?"
"He is!"
>Rainbow quietly mouths 'no you're not.'  Fluttershy sits solidly points her muzzle at you.
"If this is how they commemorate friendship in this place then I'LL be your Valentine.  As your friend there's no reason why I CAN'T be.  I mean, I don't really have anything to give you..."
>She stares at her paws and frowns before looking up again.
"But I won't let you be left out."
>She raises her nose skyward as Rainbow rolls groundwards, laughing wildly.
"Oh yeah, this is great.  Lemme get a bunch of cards and white birds and sprinkles and stuff.  We'll glue everything to your face.  We'll have a REAL valentine's day party."
>Flutterwolf opened one icy blue eye.
"You're my valentine too, Rainbow."
>She stops rolling.
"Wha?"
"I'm not letting you get left out either.  So I'm your valentine, whether you like it or not."
>Rainbow looks slightly confused.
"And since I'm Anon's valentine too, that means that you're his valentine as well."
>She looks slightly horrified.
"And you're her valentine also, Anon."
>And now you look horrified.
>Flutterwolf however, looks very pleased at her trap of flawless logic.  She smiles.
"I think we're doing very well for our first valentine's day."
>You wonder if this is the worst valentine's day ever.  Your thoughts of debate are thrown off as Flutterwolf pounces at you and hugs you.
>"Okay.  Okay."  You pat her.  "Okay.  Yes, happy valentine's day, thank-you.  Please get off me.  Okay."  She yips happily and half-spins in the air and on top of Rainbow who groans and wriggles in annoyance, but unable and unwilling to completely throw off the yellow wolf's affection.
>You have to sit down.  You plop heavily down on the couch.
>You think of all the holidays you'll now have to live through.  Rainbow raises her sleek head beside the couch's armrest like a fuzzy shark.
"Hey valentard, you got a pretty nice tree out back."
>Oh jesus.
>"Shut your mouth before I duct tape it closed."
"I'm just saying you're neck's looking pretty good."
>You're buying a turtle neck now.
"And Flutters does seem to want to get into the spirit of things."
>"I'm going to shave you in your sleep."
>She cackles wickedly and leaps into the air, flapping her wings and knocking you on the side with a leg while she glides into the other room.
"HEY FLUTTERS LET'S GO OUT BEHIND SOME BUSHES AND CELEBRATE VALENTINE'S DAY!  IT'S TRADITIONAL!  ASK ANON!"
>You still don't know if this is the worst valentine's day or not.

-

>Making a barbecue.
>Hamboigahs, hod gods, and chibblins are sizzling away happily.
>You're not really sure what you're doing.
"Anon dear, did you put the celery sticks on the grill?"
>"Uhh...."
>Wrong answer.  Rarimouse stares very disapprovingly.
"What?  Celery is gross.  No, it's not even gross.  It has no flavor.  Literally tasteless.  It has failed in its purpose as food.
>She climbs very slowly up your pant legs.
>Very slowly up your shirt.
>Very carefully across the top of your head before she grabs a tuft of your hair and dangles over your forehead and right in front of your vision.
>She is serious.
"You were sick...oh, how many days ago was it?"
>"Three...?"  She tutters.
"Oh, three days. Three days ago you were sneezing and coughing up horrid little gobs of unspeakable ickiness and running a fever that was absolutely tropical.  And still you tried to play your silly video games."
>She pats your nose.
"Such a sweet thing.  And still you recovered, with a little assistance."
>"Yeah.  I'm all better now."  She pokes the tip of your nose with her tail.
"And I'd like to keep you that way.  Celery is good for you.  Your mother did tell you to eat your vegetables, yes?"
>"She did..."  She took on a look of remorse.
"You know why she did that?"
>"Because she didn't want me to have fun?"
"No.  Because vegetables are good for you.  They're full of vitamins and minerals that boost your already worn-out immune system.  She cared about you.  Much like I do."
>Her crystaline eyes glitter.
>CAPTAIN!  SHIELDS ARE FAILING!  WE CAN'T TAKE ANOTHER HIT LIKE THAT!She is wicked.  Her point is irrefutable.  But you know how you can poke at her.  "I'm gonna eat them with peanut butter."
>She pinches the bridge of her nose.  She sighs.
"If you must."
>She climbs back to the top of your head.

-

>"Oh this is great."
"I don't see h...exactly HOW you find this amusing."
>She was wearing a plastic sunhat and held very tightly onto a small glass.  She blinks very slowly and takes a sip using ladylike gestures so orchestrated it would make John Williams weep in awe.
"It's not as though I can't take an evening to unwind.  I'm allowed to unwind."
>"There's no rule in this house saying you can't."
>You try your best not to snicker, but your best isn't that great.  Her brow lowers as she holds up a finger in your direction.
"You know what I've noticed about you?  You laugh very easily."
>She stares at her hand as she puts it back down at her side.
"Yes.  There's always something worth giggling about, obviously.  Apparently.  Evidently."
>She straightens her back.
"Evidently."
>She takes another drink.  You raise your hands up in surrender.   "Too true.  I can't help it -you're just hilarious.  Sorry Rare, but it's true."
>Her right ear twitches.  Prim as she is, she can't stop it from flopping a great amount of air around and tussling her curls.
"You know, before I met you there, nobody would find me to be something worth laughing AT.  Now, laugh with, certainly."  She raised her chin.  "My wit of course always brightens up any social gathering.  It's a gift -a completely natural gift.  Not that I'm one to sing my own praises.  Normally."
"But you.  I am just some great comedy to you, am I not?"
>"Yes."  Oh god, this was better than marathoning Richard Pryor.  She 'humphs' and scooches to the edge of the couch she's sitting on and dangles her legs over the edge.
"I've seen comedies."  Her head bobs under the weight of an evenings worth of libations.  "They have people making silly gestures and talking loudly and occasionally hitting things occasionally."
>She closes her eyes and puts a paw on her chest.
"I do not do those things."
>She opens an eye.
"So you obviously have some kind of reverse"  Her expression blanked out as her brain searched for a word to fill the suspense in the air. "Sense?  No, mirror-concept of comedy.  That is what you have."
>"Doesn't seem to hurt me any."  You put your arms over your knees.  "It's like I get to live in some kind of whacked-out sitcom twenty four-seven."  You take a drink out of your own cup.  "This is fun."
>Rarimouse follows your lead and stares at the ceiling like someone is spying on her.
"The description is rather apt.  If this was a book, I'd have a hard time believing the summary."
>A laugh slips away form her like an escaping bird.
"There.  There it is.  My life is now some kind of -of-of irreverent string of absurdist fantasy."
>"Our lives."  She nods in deference.
"Yes.  Our.  You're in this as well."
>The little mouse twirled her tail between her fingers. Well, technically she was a rat, but you wouldn't DARE to EVER say that to her.
"Although it is fun on occasion.  Occasionally."
>She smiled at you, tail still in hand.
"You're quite funny as well."
>"We should tape ourselves and sell it to NBC.  We make How I met your Mother look like late-night documentaries on PBS."  She doesn't seem offended by the idea.
"Hmm.  I do make it a point to be exceptionally good at whatever I do.   And we.  Are.  Good."
>She settles into the crevices of cushion and runs her finger around the rim of her glass.
"But I always hoped fame and notability would come from a somewhat more...refined endeavor."
>She empties her glass.
"But life is funny like that, sometimes I suppose.  Occasionally."
>Little neurons in her brain fire off in a way that makes her find that sentence the height of hilarity.  Her glass rolls away as she covers her mouth in an uncontrollable fit of laughter.  Her cheeks flush red and she gets stuck in the cushions.
>"Ladies and gentlemen, Rare has officially reached a state of complete unwind."  She seperates herself from the depths of the couch with sudden force and yells.
"And that is ANOTHER thing I keep noticing about you!"
>You freeze.  She stands up straight, held up by the strings of self-righteous indignation, then she wobbles becaue of the gravity of alcohol.
"You keep calling me RARE."
>She ambles down the couch like a drunk mountaineer.  You should be worried, but she really can't hurt herself with a ten inch fall to the floor.
>She finishes her descent, arms braced against the base of the couch, trying to remember what she was doing.
"Right!
>She points a finger to the left of you.  Then at you.  She marches.  Or lurches.  It was a very proper, graceful, feminine lurch.  Like someone walking on choppy water.  She deserved an award for it.
"You keep calling me Rare.  I don't think you actually ever used my name."
>Her eyes waver.
"It's a fine nickname to be sure, but," she starts to climb up your pant leg.  "a lady deserves...needs to be...called by her real name on occassion.  Maybe even more than occasionally."
>She struts over your lap and up your shirt.  You lean back in a futile attempt to scoot away from her.  The white mouse with full purple curls and determined blue eyes takes up the majority of your vision.  She pokes you in the chin and keeps her finger there.
"My name.  It's Rarity.  It is a VERY good name.  Don't laugh at it.  I'm being very seriously...serious."

>The glaze in her eyes shine viciously.  She takes an unbalanced step back.
"So if you would be so kind....call me that...every now and again."
>Her adrenaline goes into decline.  She slumps down on your chest.
"Yes.  My name is Rarity...and your name is...Anon..."
>Her nose twitches.
"Not as good as Rarity, but it still sounds nice..."
>She needs to be in bed.  She is going to need a crap load of aspirin in the morning.  You try and get up.
"Don't...don't get up...just yet, dear..."
>She holds her forehead.
"I may been a touch to enthusiastic..."
>She begins to curl up on your shirt.  You don't get up.

-

>It was an 'oh god, why did I drink so much?' kind of morning for you and Rarimouse.
>You forced yourself to get out of bed and lurched into the shower like you were the star of a bad frankenstein movie.
>Cold water...cold...everything's so hot.  Why can't you stop sweating?  You want to call your mom so she can tell you that everything will be okay.
>Your brain hates you.  Your stomach hates you.
>Open your mouth and let the sweet tap water fill it up, so you can gurgle out the feeling of nauseous dehydration.
>"When am I going to learn my lesson..."
>Lather shampoo into your face becaue reading for the body wash label hurts too much.
"Didn't you say that was your main problem in school?"
>"One of the main problems.  I had a lot of issues with -"
>Pause.
>Open your eyes.
>Bubbles made of shampoo and needles sting you immediately, which doesn't help your head at all.  Time to curse and shout and  rub your eyes like a baby.
>The pain washes away and all your left with is staring teary-eyed at Rarimouse who's looking both parts amused and hung-over.  She's standing on the ceramic lip that rings around the shower and holding a small sponge.  You sputter.
>"Rare!?  Rari-RARITY?!?"
>You plop a generation portion of shampoo lather over your shame.  It washes away quickly.  You hold a rag against it.
"Good morning dear."
>She presses the sponge to her temples.
"Well, it's...mostly good.  Ah." she winces.  "It may yet turn good."
>She leans against the wall as the remnants of last night's revelry extract their toll.
"We must keep up hope."
>You bite your cheeks. "What are you doing?"  You try to sound patient.  She wipes some larger drops of water away from her ears and states matter-of-factly:
"I just couldn't help but notice that you take showers such as these after a night of downing one-to-many drinks.  Not very gentlemanly behavior, but I assumed it helped."  She holds a finger up to you as her stomach started to betray her.  "And a lady needs a little bit of help in this situation."
>"I'm naked."  Water runs over your butt.
"Well, so am I most times."
>She motions her arms over herself.  Her hair has turned dark and heavy under the water.
>"You have fur.  It doesn't count."
>She flicks water at you with her tail.  "This has to count as breaking one of your little etiquette personal codes or something.  At least TWELVE.  Now which ones?"  She looks up and 'hmms' while lathering slender shoulders.
"I'm breaking fifteen, currently.  It would be fourteen if it was past nine, but would-be's and should-be's hardly help anyone.  Open the conditioner for me, would you dear?"
>You put a dot of conditioner on your finger and Rare takes it from you and starts her hair regimen.
"Thank-you.  Now, yes I" she works her fingers through her hair. "Oh heavens that feels lovely.  Oh, yes, well, there are extenuating circumstances.  Besides, we're both adults, yes?  You're not some skittish blushing school boy."
>You have to think a second.  "No.  I am not a school boy."  You take the rag away slowly and start scrubbing your arm.
"I'm certain your parents are very proud.  So there.  We're both mature adults who can share a little mutual morning freshening-up under the weight of a little too much of a good time."
>She rinses out the bubbles.  Massaging the lengths of her hair by section and carefully threading her fingers through the fur on her neck.
>You have to turn away.
"And it isn't as thought I don't trust you."
>"Oh wow."  Her eyes glitter.
"But the question is whether or not you should trust me."
>You damn near slip on the tile form how fast your neck twisted to her.  "Sixteen rules."  She laughs and puts her hands on her hips.
"Let a girl have a little mischief.  Is this how these things play out?  You turn upright and tight and I become devilish little minx?"  She giggles.  "Drink is such a funny thing."
>No it's not. It's a terrifying thing and you will swear it off forever.
>
>No. No you won't.
>You scrub your back.  "So how much of last night do you remember?"  She looks a little embarassed and her ears fall back."
"Most of it." she admits.  "I do remember you wishing you had recorded it. I'd like to tell you how appaling that would be."
>"Do you remember climbing and tripping around yourself, talking about names?"
"I'm afraid it gets quite blurry towards the end.  Oh dear."  She tried to hide distress. "Did I say anything embarrassing?"
>"You did everything embarrassing."
>She flicked her tail at you again.  You laugh and leave her to fidget, but she rebounds quickly.
"Ah, I feel better already.  How about you?"
>"Meehhhh."  You felt like you could hold some food down.  "Better."
>The truth was that you were barely capable of dealing with this.  This mouse scares you in all the wrong ways.
>"Are you...freshened up enough?"
>She splashes her face once more.  Her generous eyelashes flutter under the waterfall.
>Oh boy.
"I should say so.  At least we don't smell like debauchery now."
>No.  The two of you just mild perversion.
>You turn the shower off and exit quickly.  You grab a towel and try to leave the bathroom to dry off elsewhere.
"I certainly hope you don't plan to leave without brushing your teeth."
>Dammit.

>"I SWEAR TO GOD I'M GOING TO BREAK THE DOOR DOWN."
"That only means you'll have to buy a new door."
>You laugh darkly and press your forehead against the frame.  "Oooohh-ho-hohoho, like hell i am.  I'm going to get all those lap tops and jewels those weird dudes and creepy ladies on the internet send you and sell them.  I'll make a killing.   I'll get the whole house renovated and you're covering the tab.
>Nothing but silence from the bathroom.
"Then Trixie will be forced to take your life in return.  Do not steal her things.  She will have the authorities after you in the shortest of orders.  Trixie is tempted by the idea of seeing you beaten over your misshapen head while lying on the sidewalk by the member of the community  who have SOME sense of decency. But Trixie is a kind soul, truly, and does not wish to have such violence upset her morning.
>"Dammit Trix, you've been showering for two hours."  You visually imagine her huffing and rolling her eyes.
"Trixie must make sure she is impeccable.  It's a process.  Go do...something else.  Away from. Trixie.  She cares not."
>She's used up enough water to fill an olympic pool by now.  You don't want to break the door down, but you DO want to piss her off.
>Wait a sec.
>You so fast to the second toilet-only bathroom that a thin sheen of sweat has built up and your hair is sticking to your forehead.  Your smile is one of vengeance as you raise your hand and slam it down the lever like God bringing justice to Sodom and Gomorrah.
>The toilet flushes.
>You hear a high-pitched scream from the other side of the house.  The toilet begins to refill.   The lid to the tank goes flying and you turn on the sink and throw water in there until its full enough to flush again.
>And again.
>And again.
>Trixie has popped the cap to her rage and you've popped the cap to your joy.
>You stick your head out of the door and see her standing down the hallway.  You can swear her eyes are glowing.
"YOUR LIFE WILL BE SUFFERING."
>She runs real fast down the hallway.
>Close the door.  The door shakes from the impact.
>You don't hear anything for a second.  Did she kill herself?  You hope so.
>You press your ear against the door and don't hear anything.  It could be trick.
>Crouching to the floor, you peek under the door crack.
>You jump back five feet as a knife is shoved under the frame.
>"SWEET CHRIST!"
>A tiny butterknife jerks back and forth under the frame, seeking your blood.
>"Are you trying to blind me!"
"You tried to boil Trixie alive!  What kind of back-worlds monster are you!"
>"What kind of kubrick rat are YOU?"
>She kicks the knife under the door.
"Trixie is NOT a RAT!"
>She shrieks and beats on the door before kicking the entire knife ineffectively into the bathroom.  You can hear her stomp away.
>You creak the door open to make sure she's really leaving.
>She about faces.  Her hair is sogging and fur tussled everywhere.  Her eyes are red from crying.
"That HURT you, you TREMENDOUS ASS."
>She takes off for the room that's either yours or hers.  The lines of demarcation were changing constantly.
"Where is her hat?  Where is Trixie's hat?  She's leaving and she's never coming back to this place."
>Her voice stumbles and cracks.
>She's leaving!  HOORAY!  You spin around in the bathroom and leap into the air!  She hears you.
"Fine.  Celebrate.  Cruelty seems to be the only thing you understand, so one hopes that you will be happy knowing that Trixie would rather sleep on the streets, exposed to miscreants and unsavories who still are more respectable than you."
>She's found her hat and forces it undaintily over her head.
>"I'm very happy, thanks."
>She scoffs and wipes her nose.
"Trixie is not going to say good bye.  She is just going to leave, and she hopes you will be miserable and no one ever shows you an ounce or iota of kindness ever again, like she was foolish enough to do."
>She goes to the front door.  You follow her.
>She pauses before it and looks at you expectantly.
"Are you going to say anything?"
>"You are the worst thing that has ever happened to anyone."
>She unlocks, opens, and slams the door with one smooth motion of admittedly impressive gymnastics.
>You cheer and run back and forth in your home doing cartwheels and jumping on furniture.
>"DING DONG! DING DONG THE WICKED WITCH IS DEAD SHE'S DEAD AND GONE AND NEVER COMING BACK!"
>You hear your car starting.
>You stop jumping.
>You hear your car pulling away.
>Run out of the house and see your shitmobile peeling out of your driveway and down the street.  You give chase but she's gone from view all to quickly, leaving you panting and hands pressed on your knees while you try and catch you breath.
>You find it soon enough and scream to the sky.
>"GODDAMMIT NOT AGAIN!"

-

>Being at the beach scared you.
>There were a lot of things at the beach.  Crabs.  Waves.  Sandpits and seagulls.
"Oh this is marvelous!"
>Rarimouse was sprawled out in the middle of an enourmous beach towel.
>Wearing a tiny sun hat and tiny mouse sunglasses and a dab of sunscreen on her twitchy mouse nose.
>Where does she get all this stuff?  You sure don't buy it for her...
>You've set up an umbrella to create a shield from the unforgiving sun.  Rare's whiskers flicked as grains of sand blew across them.  You were still wearing pants and shoes.  Shorts just aren't your thing.
>You didn't share this corner of the beach with anyone.  It was a weekday, and still relatively early.  No one around to give you funny looks about the mouse with the curly purple hair who sometimes asks people  where they bought their earrings.
"Aren't you going to get in the water?"
>"There are jellyfish out there."
"There's a jellyfish not fifteen feet away from us."
>And sure enough a dead jellyfish was baking off to your left.
>"At least I can see that one."
>She raises to her hind legs and stretches.
"Anon, there is no point in going to the beach if you're not going to at least dip a toe in the water.  And it does look oh-so crystal clear today."
>The almost-oversized front teeth of hers shine in the sun as she looks longingly at the water.
>"Getting in the water won't mess up your hair for all eternity?"   Oddly adventerous of her.  She waves a paw dismissively.
"True art cannot be ruined so easily."  She toussles her curls.  "Besides, I'm just dying to try out that new shampoo we bought yesterday.  I'm going to shower after this anyhow.  I may at least make it worth it."
>You ask her if you were going to shower together again.  The two of you laugh.
>A bit of you noticed that she didn't say no.
>She steps off the towel and onto the beach proper.  She sighs as she digs her toes into the warm sand.  She giggles as she skips off towards the water.
>Wait a second -The water.  That is part of the ocean.  The ocean that is filled with crabs and eels and giant squids that eat itty bitty things that swim in it.
>You swing up and over your ankle like a lever, falling into the sand in your attempt to take off after her.  You pull yourself up to your arms only to slip again.
>Sand in your eyes.  Sand in your eyes.  Crap.  Crap.
>"Crap!"
>She doesn't seem to be paying attention to you.  She's getting closer to the water.   Did you see a fin?  Was that a shark fin?  A shark is going to eat her.  All the sharks in all the world are going to converge on this slice of surf.  It'll make Sharknado look like Sharkbreeze.
>You hear a soft little splish.  You chase after the small little prints she's left in the wet sand.
>splish splish splish!
>STOMP STOMP STOMP!
She's walked out far enough where the water is waist deep for her.  Just a small puddle for you, but she may as well be standing over the Mariana Trench.  You skid up next to her and almost slip in the mud.
>"Okay.  That's far enough out.  We got in the water, yaaayy, let's go back."   She rolled her eyes at you and flicked her tail through the water, splashing your pants.
"Saltwater doesn't make me melt.  You seem awfully on edge today.  What has you so concerned?"
>"...the ocean is big place."
"Yes.  You can't even see the other side from here."
>"It's deep too." You put your hands in your pockets.
"Very.  I belive you can't make out the bottom from most spots."
>"There could be a wave."  You look down at your shoes.
"I've been to the beach before, I know what a wave is."
>"You might get washed away."  Your mutter.
>Oh god, you can't even look at her right now.  You hear her titter like you're a puppy who keeps tugging at her ankles when she tries to leave the house.  This goes on your 'big dummy moments of 2013' for sure.
"You're worried that the waves will pick me up and carry me somewhere far off?"
>"Kind of.  Who knows where you'd end up."  She walks a little bit behind you and sits down in the ebbing  water.  The small waves wash around her, pulling dark and light lines of sand away from her wet fur.
"Well the gentlemanly thing to do would be to carry me, wouldn't it?"
>"Carry you....back to the car?"  She rubs the bridge of her muzzle.
"Maybe further into the water.  I would enjoy a swim today."  She stood and wadded closer to you.  "And if I'm holding onto you, then you surely won't let me go."
>She circled around in the sand.
"And if by happenstance the waves do rise up and wash us away, then at least we'll be carried off somewhere far off and unknown together."
>She picks up a fleck of seashell that was uncovered by the tides.
"And that wouldn't be so bad, would it?"
>She looks at you.  Your pants are going to get so wet today.  "Guess it wouldn't."  You plop down in the sand.  Rare steps onto your leg and you lift her onto your shoulder.
>The two of you go out into the water, not caring if the waves take you away or not.

-

>"I'm going to put a lock on my closet door."
"Why on earth would do that, darling?"
>Rarimouse says it like you're the most unreasonable man in the western hemisphere.
"Because you keep cutting out swatches of my clothes to make clothes for yourself."
>She has the grace to look somewhat guilty. She wrings her long tail in between her paws and lowers her ears and looks at you with her eyes all a-glistening.
"I only take a tiny piece. Nothing more than I need, I promise."
>Her violet curls bounces as she shakes her head gently.
"A small, insignificant sample for my tiny, lovely creations. You can't be too upset at that, can you? Do not tell me you would deny an artisan her tools of craft."
>"It's the principle, Rare, the principle." She releases her tail and stands on her tiptoes, staring you down with her hands on her hips.
"You haven't worn any of those clothes in six months anyhow. They were lying on the floor in your closet. Darling, you did not care one iota for a single stitch of fabric on anything that I used."
>She laughed like a string of bells and twirled away.
"Besides....
>She disappeared from view. She's good at that. Disappearing.
"Tell me the end results were not a little worth it.
>She spins and slides back into view, decked out in the cannibalized remnants of your shirt, reborn and given glorious new purpose.
>She runs a paw down her hips, clothed in fabric that could somehow pass as silk. You could walk her into any ballroom in the country and no one would dare stop you.
>She had little beads in her hair.
>"Do I want to know where you got those from?"
"You're much better off not knowing, dear."
>You leave the room.
>She hums to herself and spins around on the table. You thumb through your things and make sure nothing you own looks like it could be broken down into jewelry.
-
TRIXEMOUSE FLASHBACK TIEM!

"You're going to sit there. You will not move. You will be enraptured, and have a gaze of awe on your face at all times, and clap and cheer until your oversized lungs cannot breath anymore when appropriate."
>Triximouse points between your eyes.
"Is Trixie's words getting into the pitiably small higher-function portion of your brain? Must she convey her words with a picture book?"
>You want her to convey her face in front of a train.
"Just do your damn magic show."
>She looks offended, which is hard to tell because she always seems be mad at something. She throws her cape over her arms yells as loud as a mouse can.
"TRIXIE does not perform magic shows. Drop-outs and 30-year old Las Pegasus has-beens do magic shows. Trixie creates arenas filled with spectacle and wondrous acts of wonderment!"
>"That's not a word." She flourishes her cape behind her, the stars she sewed onto it glitter in the candlelight of her small stage.
"TRIXIE HAS THE POWER TO USE ANY WORD SHE PLEASES! GRAMMAR BOWS BEFORE THE MIGHT OF TRIXIE"
>Her paws wiggle in her self-perceived mysticism.
>You ran your hand over eyes tired of this mouseshit.
>"Just...just pull the cheetoh out of your hat already."
>Her ears pop up like a beartrap. Her hat falls off her head and yes, a cheetoh rolls out of it.
"HOW DID YOU KNOW ABOUT TRIXIE'S BIG FINISH?"
>You hate this mouse.