Ch. 13 - Little Hints

568 47 35
                                    


(A/N: Sorry for more delays T^T it just keeps happening. i also have (minor) inconsistencies i wish to change from the last few chapters, but instead here we are chugging along on ahead! because i'm to lazy to go back. hope y'all are ok with that :)

(just a reminder that there is a character sheet thing if you forget who's who and want to refresh - no shame in it considering how long this is getting :D ... it's, uh, on AO3 tho)------> https://archiveofourown.org/works/30848912  )

***

"WELL?" Napoleon went on, impatient foot tapping with arms almost as cross as his expression. His red eye lights as intense as ever.

The curiosity from the numerous eye lights of the rest was just as palpable, making the silence feel tense. Charged with expectation. Count took a moment to survey the room in order to collect his thoughts. Everyone's attention is on him.

Pocky leisurely lounged on a ledge, observant but relaxed. Candy stood nearby, leaning on a support with hand behind his head. Next to him stood Happy, who was carrying Comet on his back for no apparent reason. Raspberry stood by Napoleon with a vaguely amused and smug expression. Hoods sat hunched over with a resigned expression as Punz used his skull to lean his elbows on from behind, amused but clearly still paying attention.

Meanwhile Kid decided to take his stance right beside Count like some form of secret service, giving Count an encouraging smile as if to say he had his back, whatever the story may be ... Count hoped it was a sign of friendship and not the beginnings of something that could become very problematic. There was no telling red in his blue eye lights, so Count decided to stay cautiously optimistic. For now.

Stars he had a lot to do and keep track of.

Count sighed and pinched his nasal ridge. His interaction with Error left him tired in a way that wasn't just due to his sleep deprovision, jet lag and emotional whiplash. That encounter had been filled with all kinds of mental gymnastics. Though ... and he wouldn't admit out loud; but the chocolate Error gave him had been really good and was a good pick-me-up. He only got a few bite of that lunch burgers-and-fires-mush which was now taken away, so he was lowkey thankful for the added food.

Count continued to mull over how in the hell he could explain things in a vaguely believable manner.

It's not like he could just say 'i'm a monster from an alternate universe and error is the destroyer of worlds, i built a machine to escape my universe because a murder flower had locked everyone into a time loop that only i remembered and somehow got turned into a bitty during the au transition.'

They'd just think he was avoiding the truth. And if they think it's a lie, they're not exactly going to keep it very secret. Maybe. At the very least waiting till the last minute to dump the full truth would prevent any detail leaking - and after that point, when the full story was out, Count would do the final count. But mostly, the timing of the info drop? It wouldn't give them as much time to change their mind about joining.

Despite his initial indifference to the added company, Count found he wanted them to come, and that he didn't want to be alone. He's already been alone for so long and these guys - these weird, unique, and strange bitties - had reminded him what it was like to have friends to talk to, to joke with and hang out with. Not just a script to follow. Just ... being in the moment. And remembering what it's like for a moment to matter.

They already felt like friends.

Would they shun him as a liar after he tells his story? He didn't know. But there was one way to find out.

He met gazes of the bitties that continued to persuade the story out of Count with their combined peer pressure. And while there wasn't exactly enough time for the full story plus all the questions that would no doubt follow, with customers coming in about 20 minutes ... Count could still give them something if not the full details. It might even help ease them into it.

A Small ProblemWhere stories live. Discover now