Cherish || A Chase x Sweetie Fanfiction ||

(S1-C8) • Live Like You're Dying •

"W-what is this monstrosity?!" Sweetie hissed from behind her Shiba Inu friend, cowering from the enormous variety of light-filled machines and stalls, as they stood in front of the steel gates. People, both young and old, were in line, waiting patiently until they were valid to enter. The few that came in grew the facial expression of gleeful kids. This only bolstered the exciting ideology of how such a place was even created, much more-existed during their era. Or perhaps it was due to the crowded evening becoming a first experience for the unbiological female triplets-similar body stature and personalities excluded.

As they were in a state of infinite astonishment, Chase appeared before them with pieces of paper that permitted entrance, one for each. Printed on it was the time left for them before they must leave, but they didn't need to take note of it. "Until the park closes, we can enjoy our time to the fullest here," Chase informed, waking the pups from their awed trance. Immediately, Maria questioned the safety precautions and the restraint of possible injuries. After all, if something were to happen, their plan would end in a tragedy, even if it was limited to a tiny scrape on Sweetie's knee.

"There are barely any accidents that could happen here, most of them being simple malfunctions that would get their customers off the specific ride."

"So you're absolutely sure we won't be that percent that would be hit by a traumatic end?" Beatrice questioned in a fear-engulfed vocal that scared herself and her two friends. "Hmm... maybe." Chase stuck his tongue out as a manner of sign language directed to the Pomeranian, being perceived as "Are you scared?" rather than a childish tease.

"Ha! Something like this can't stop me," she proclaimed, entering the turnstile entrance just through the gates to carve her tenacity in the head of the presumptuous challenger. Her cheeky grin even brought herself confidence of how she'll conquer all that would try to prove her daringness to be fallacious. I'll show him, Beatrice promised through a deep inhale and a mental signing of the contract to whomever wins. She focused on the fact that the victor gets the right to make fun of the other, only to have her jaws slowly drop down on the first sight of the metal carrier charging towards her at a speed that her nerves couldn't react to in time. The loud rushing rang in her ears and kept her in place, the looping train passing above her with its shadow appearing for only a few seconds before being carried away again, and it's as if the pup just saw her life flash before her eyes.

"Don't go eating your words now." Chase treaded from behind, noticeably jeering at Beatrice, who was in complete denial as she stomped her feet on the york stone pavement like a young child losing an argument, the former calling her "scaredy-pup" and the like.

As Chase continued to make fun of the considerably defeated yet still prideful princess, Maria already took off to one of the nearby stalls, Sweetie's paw in hers to follow her. The sun was high no more and it was only a matter of time before darkness took over. It would be difficult to explore when there's no light, or so that's what the generous princess thought for being illiterate from the shortage of insight about the place. The drawback to overprotected nobles.

"Look, Sweetie." Maria directed at the prizes behind the red and white striped-dressed man with the same pattern top hat, the Terrier's eyes landing on the golden necklace that hid within a glass container surrounded by other bounties such as stuffed toys and silver bracelets. Reading the poster near the alluring reward, they figured out that they needed to hit a bullseye on the small target behind the man, just below the shelf where the treasures slanted in rest.

"Three balls per turn," Sweetie counted, observing an adult beside them who paid in cash for a turn. The balls given were quite small. However, it most likely had enough weight to prevent a stop from the drag force when thrown.