bitch pudding

Everyone sucked.

Her brothers were gross, she didn't like @Alder, just because she didn't, and @Dimitri as such a mama's boys who was an butt-kisser. Everytime he spoke she would mimic his voice in a mockery, because he was a weak annoyance in general. Her sisters were.. Weirdos, at least @Sreda kept to herself. Maybe Violet was jealous of @Narcissa because it almost seemed like the light followed her, so she was automatically hated too.

And her aunt sucked, was a mean to a child! Why defend against a gross, hairy beast then to agree with the cute niece? She was maidenless, and husbandless for a reason ; no one wanted her, a leftover amongst her mothers who found themselves then any other.

In general, Violet was a nasty, nasty lil pup.

She was outside the den, brooding, complaining, and dying her little paws. Splattering the berries on the ground and decorating her little tip toes while being angry at everyone around her. At least she was pretty.

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Sreda moved much differently than the others — or at least she imagined she did. She imagined herself a shadow, smooth and delicate and easy to pass over. And yet, somehow, intimidating. Perhaps it was the lack of emotion on her face. Perhaps it was her odd coloration. Or perhaps it was just her demeanor. But she felt different than the others — and she was fine with that.

Violet was much louder. Much more open about the things that bothered her.

Sreda wondered if she found something that bothered her that much if she would stomp around as much as her sister.

And as she came upon @Violet , there was cacophony. The beautiful puppy stomped and snarled, mashing her paws in pink berry juice and decorating herself in beautiful macabre. And Sreda watched quietly, an empty look of curiosity on her face as she slowly approached her sister.

"We do my nails too, sissy?" Sreda approached, as effortlessly as a cumbersome child body could. She stopped nearby to Violet, lifting a golden paw and appraising it with her deep purple eyes. "With bug guts," she finished emptily. There was no smile, no laugh ... because really, it wasn't a joke. She wanted to go on a bug hunt with her sister, squish up some bugs, and wear their guts on her feet. Maybe she'd even show her mamas and see what they thought.

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Alder listened quietly from the back of the den, tucked behind @Valeska's silver shadow. In spite of their prolonged exposure to one another, sharing a den and two parents and all of the familial blood that flowed through their veins, the little red pup couldn't help but feel... different, somehow. Maybe it was the way his siblings would cast a wary eye when he approached, or how, inexplicably, whatever fun games they found themselves playing would come to an abrupt halt if he made any attempt to join in.

Coincidence, surely - why wouldn't they want to play with him?

Hearing the high-pitched whine of Violet toward the mouth of the den, Alder rose on silent paws, creeping out toward where she and Sreda had gathered. They were talking about bugs - bug guts. He smiled broadly, remembering the grasshopper he had caught earlier in the day; what a perfect opportunity! Tail wagging, he went to grab the thing by a long, spindly leg, bringing it out toward his sisters and dropping it with a plop in the dirt between them.

“I found it behind a big rock,” he exclaimed proudly, feeling confident he had earned favor in their eyes for this task. “You can have it.”

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Violet's face twisted, the weirdo approached, who wanted to always do the grossest things, "ew, no, get away from me." Flickering her paw at Sreda, where fresh berry juice lightly sloshed within her way. White paws being dyed by this berry nail business, she was very poor at it. At the point it was annoying and frustrating how much the rest was getting dyed and felt sticky. Even some splattered on her chest and other pelt ; decorating self in a near polka-dotted pattern.

She needed someone else to do this.

Then he approached and her frown, and face twisted more then any child should present, "and the freak approaches," she said, throwing her paws in the air and slamming them down, "that's gross, you're gross."

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I'M SORRY LOL

---

Violet reacted as anticipated, her delicate, perfectly shaped lips contorting into disgust. Sreda smiled emptily, more amused than offended. "Ew, no, get away from me." Violet flicked her little paw, spattering berry juice around. A few droplets hit Sreda's chest and legs ... Purple eyes glanced toward her sister, a brow rising. "Don't be a baby," she replied with perfect apathy, lifting a paw to lick a sample of the juice before taking a step forward.

Her head turned a moment, appraising Alder as he entered the scene. Most hated him for his color, but Sreda found it daunting and delightful. Red like fire and blood.

She smiled at him as he pulled out a big, juicy grasshopper.

"It's dreadful," she noted with a sparkle in her eyes. And though it would have sounded insulting, dreadful was exactly what Sreda was looking for. And it was then that Violet reared up, stomping her feet. Gross, she said. "Perfectly gross." Sreda added, smiling. She trotted toward the bug with a bit of a dancing sway to her hips and then glanced over her shoulder at her pouting, perfect sibling. "Come on sissssss, show me!" She wanted Violet to do her nails. And there was only one way to make that happen.

The sinister child picked up the bug, and with a flick of her head, tossed the dead creature ... right at Violet.

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Alder couldn't stifle the giggle that erupted at the sight of his mean sister covered in such bright pink polka-dots. A small part of him felt happy that she looked so ridiculous; it was humbling, a reminder that she was mortal just like the rest of them, try as she might to convince her siblings otherwise.

Of course, then Violet's customary insult was viciously flung from her dark lips. He winced as if in physical pain, shrinking back as his ears flattened against his skull. Why was she so mean to him? She wasn't like this - well, as bad - with anybody else. It wasn't fair.

Sreda diverted the situation, whether intentional or not, growing visibly excited by the grasshopper. Alder thought her strange - she was kind of like Mother — Amaranth, but somehow more macabre in her interests - and she really, really enjoyed playing with dead things.

Like, too much.

“I can uh... I can help paint, if you want,” he offered quietly. He'd never painted anyone's nails before, but if it would earn their favor, he was willing to try -

Sreda flung the bug.

Alder instinctually folded into a crouch, plugging his ears.

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Anything that was before? Didn't matter. Violet's mind simply went blank when she saw the bug, and heading right toward her. Especially when it touched her snout. Her yelling could be heard from beyond the five realms itself, she made it known to everyone around them, in bleeding of ears, what was happening and the sheer horror this little devil was facing. Screaming, crying, all the merrier. Alder was right to cover his ears.

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Time slowed down. The bug flew across the air, and Sreda watched it fly with a pristine trajectory toward its target (what impeccable aiming, honestly). She watched the floppy bug limbs wobble as they hit Violet square on the snout with a satisfying smack. Sreda's lips pulled upward ever-so-slightly. "яблочко — bull's-eye"." Her voice hit the air in the mere moments of silence before the storm would unleash. Alder bunkered down, covering his ears with his paws in anticipation.

Sreda stared Violet, looking her right in the eyes.

Time went from slow to a standstill.
 And then Violet screamed.

Like a harpy.
 A banshee.
  A vampire exposed to sunlight.
   A werewolf struck by silver.
    A dying animal?

And that scream echoed. Sreda could have sworn she heard an avalanche start somewhere in the next realm over.

She wasn't sure how long it lasted, but Violet ran out of air eventually. And Sreda looked first at Alder, to make sure he was alive with eardrums intact, before turning back toward Violet with two raised eyebrows. "Impressively eerie, Violet," she started, lifting herself up to go collect her bug. She picked it up delicately in her jaws before bringing it back over to Alder. After a moment, she turned around and faced Violet once more, looking apathetic, but somehow pensive. "But you come off more ... dying boar than anything more sinister. We'll have to practice." Deadpan voice. A curt nod.

She sat herself down next to Alder, then, eyes shifting between him and the bug. "Do you still want to play?"

Her nails were still not painted.

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"Bull's-eye."

That was the last thing he heard before their world came crashing down around them. Birds flew off from their trees in a panicked frenzy while mice scampered back into their nests, fearing the end. A rabbit shot past them with the speed of a comet, leaving a broken trail of grass and clouds of dust in its wake.

Alder looked up toward Fate's Summit in terror, wondering if they should expect a rockslide or an avalanche.

Her screech echoed - echoed - echoed - and finally, after an eternity, faded.

---

"Срань господня." — Holy shit.

Mama told him never to swear, but as the nature of babes, it was nearly impossible not to pick up on her numerous frustrated 'slips of the tongue' during their daily lives. In fact, Mama was an expert swear-er, and she had inadvertently taught her children a very robust vocabulary of colorful language to use in just such situations.

Alder was a natural.

Ears still ringing, he slowly unfurled himself from the fetal position, staring blankly out toward his sisters. He'd known Violet could be loud, but -

Gods.

“Geez, Violet,” he said at last, breaking the intense silence.

Sreda drew his attention, and at the mention of 'practicing', he passionately shook his head and whispered the word “NO”. He didn't think his ears could survive another round, dying boar or not.

Moving on, his dark sister sat in a pointed motion, glancing between him and the offending creature. Well - when in Rome.

“Um, so... do you want berry juice like Violet? Or...”

She stared at him.

Wordlessly, he smashed the bug, splaying its colorful guts upon the earth.

Alder awkwardly picked up a hefty splodge with both paws, sandwiching the glob like the thumbless animal he was, and gently lopped it onto her claws with - surprising skill, actually. Only minimal runoff onto her fur.

He was rather good at this. Inadvertently, he smiled.

“Want me to do yours too, Vi? Uh, not with the bug.”

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They were just as bad as Dimitri! "No!" Violet screeched, "I hate you all!" and she ran away from these freaks. They wanted to pain her nails in bug juice, and although Alder said otherwise.. He looked to be in cahoots with Sreda that she didn't really believe him, and only glared at these two with tear-stains and shaking her head aggressively, feeling her skin shake by the imaginary creepy crawlies.

She wanted nothing to do with them.

---

Violet exits unless otherwise lolo

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Alder gently applied the guts in an even spread over her nails. It was messy, more like fingerprinting ... it wouldn't stain her nails, not in the way berry juice would cling to the fur — but it was exactly what Sreda had asked for. She eyed Alder in silent thanks, blinking at him as she watched the way he smooshed the guts without onto her nails with a morbid sort of accuracy.

Her nose twitched, and Sreda hardly heard Violet storm off.
 That screaming sound now was decibels softer than before.

The only goodbye she gave her sister was a solemn glance over her shoulder at the retreating gold and silver form. A half sigh puffed out her lips as she flicked her ears, turning back toward her crimson brother. She lifted a paw, amethyst eyes appraising the job he'd done. Her lips pursed, head dipping slightly in approval.

"She's shrill," Sreda said absently, wiggling her toes in front of their noses. It was more of a statement than a complaint. "You know," she began again, gaze catching Alder again as her paw slowly slid to the ground. The juice felt squishy between her toes. "Auntie and I played a game once, where we let things fall, fall, fall down a mountain." Little did she know, Alder had been there. "Wouldn't it be interesting to hear how Violet's voice changed if she were to fall, fall, fall?" Her head tilted to the side, empty eyes appraising her brother.

It was a morbid thought, but one not birthed of ill intent. Merely ... curiosity.  Before now, she'd thought about tossing Dimitri off the cliff prior. But maybe throwing Violet would be more interesting.
  She wondered what Alder thought.

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They let her depart with nary a word to stop her.

An eerie peace fell over the pair, blessedly cloaked in the silence of two souls just needing a moment to savor the sound of nothing.

Sreda spoke first.

She lifted a paw, surveying his handiwork - and Alder realized he missed a spot. The inner perfectionist came out in a vengeance and he quickly crunched more juice from the bug, messily glopping it on a nail that had remained previously unadorned.

That looked much better. Mama always said if you were going to do something, do it right the first time.

“Like -” his eyes widened. “Like murder her?”

His sister was dark in her interests, but he didn't realize she was that... intense.

Nevertheless -

Alder considered.

He recalled every nasty thing Violet had ever said to him, every kick and bite and withering glare, briefly weighed the pros and cons of such an action, and then at last he broke the silence.

“How high are we talking?”

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gravedigger

---

Alder properly fixed up her nails, and Sreda's expression did not change. Though she internally appreciated the effort, it never made way to the expressionless, motionless features of her slender face. She remained distinctly, properly apathetic. Even the wind dared not ruffle the perfect golden feathers of her face.

But suddenly, Alder stiffened.

Sreda peeked up at him, her eyebrow barely twitching as he eyed her cautiously. “Like murder her?” Golden eyes dilated as they stared into her, widening like a saucer as he considered her proposition. Again, Sreda's expression did not change — she'd never said the word murder, after all. (That was Alder's idea, if anyone ever cared to ask later.)

"We're going to need a hole," she said suddenly; after the uncomfortable silence finished washing completely over them. A hole. A grave. Something proper for their lovely sister.

And then she stood up without warning, turning and starting back toward the edges of the cliffs. A trail of bug guts in her wake.

And after a moment, she slowed, flicking her tail as she turned her head back over her shoulder and stared directly into Alder's soul. "Are you coming?" She could only assume yes. She saw the way his eyes lit with that curiosity ... that fear ... that fascination.

He was not as different as her, after all.

And she continued on.

---

Exit Sreda.

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What had he done?

How would he explain to his mothers that he was an accomplice in a homicide? The reality of his hastily-uttered affirmation toward her plot began to set in, and he envisioned Valeska's weeping eyes dropping great big blobs of salty tears over Violet's grave - that he had helped dig. That he had crafted with his own two paws, aided by Sreda.

And if they were questioned - she would never crack. He would take all the blame, he could feel it deep in his bones.

"We're going to need a hole."

Alder was absolutely aghast, but it had gone too far now. He could see it in her eyes, cold determination replacing what detached curiosity had formerly lingered there, and he opened his mouth to protest but she was already standing up and walking away.

He saw the trail of bug guts.

“Sreda, wait - you're ruining my hard work -” he barked after her, upset that she was so careless with his patient efforts. It had taken a great deal of concentration to glob all of that stuff onto her nails, and now she didn't even seem to care. Alder huffed and picked up the pace, grabbing what remained of the dismembered grasshopper between the edges of his teeth as he bounded after her. “Shredah - I gottah fixsh it - and if you dig the hole, you're gonna make it worsh -”

And so the murdering children left to orchestrate their vile plot.

{Exit Alder}

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