DUCK & COVER!

never let your guard down around soup, 'r the ingredients'll rise up against ya.

      sticks the badger ; game & show influenced.

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Wander didn’t seem to mind at all, instead offering her a warm smile, taking a seat of his own. It was funny, really, it seemed like it had been a long time since he played his banjo for anyone else, aside from the folks he usually knew throughout the galaxy.

Gently plucking a few strings, Wander inhaled, closing his eyes as he began to sing, his voice gentleas he swayed along to the music.

“We built this wall with our own two hands,

Under the sky and the stars and the moon,

And although, my dear, you’ve yet to be near,

I hope we can reunite soon.

Together we sing, and tomorrow will bring

Love, with both good and the bad,

And although my dear, I wish you were here

I hope to see you again, under the moon.”

➦             sweet as his song was, a few things seemed to strike the off note. for starters, they were currently under a moon of their own along bygone island’s beach. there also remained NO ONE ELSE beside the two there, let alone any indication of wander having anyone else this might’ve been aimed for. still, the word REUNITE makes her doubt herself. this song couldn’t possibly be about her.

              could it?

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He laughs at that, resting the banjo to his chest with a shake of his head. “No mind erasin’ tunes, thankfully! But I do have a lil’ somethin I’ve been workin’ on– if y’care to hear it, that is.”

➦                               ❛ - well, i trust ya. SURE! lemme hear y’ work in progress. - ❜

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“W-woah, Sticks, easy, girl, easy!” Grop, she reacted almost like Sylvia when the two were mistaken for the same thing– making a quick mental note to introduce them to each other sometime.

“‘M sure they didn’t mean anythin’ harmful by it– jus’ a silly assumption, is all!” he tried to reassure her, glancing towards the couple– only to see they had run off, leaving a cloud of dust behind. “Er– well…”

➦                               ❛ - easy, EASY? how am i meant t’ take it easy when there’s people out there LABELLIN’ us! f’er all i know y’ hate my guts & i could be head ova’ heels — havin’ people rate our lives makes us a walkin’ sitcom ; y’ don’t wanna be someone’s cable hit tv show, d’ya? - ❜

              fussy hands of a huntress grip to the star kid’s shoulders, shrugging him about in a shake while she ravages his eardrums with further paranoia. ❛ - next thing y’ know, we’ve got a hit theme song parodied off’a somethin’ from th’ nineties & we’re dressed in cardigans & sharin’ a hut like we barely afford a home our own! - ❜

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Wander lets out a sigh of relief– he’s at least thankful to have that little chapter closed for now. As much as he does love his hat– he knows that aside from his usual explanation, it could definitely be a little uncanny to someone, well…. not from his “neck of the woods”, per se.

“Oh, y’mean m’ banjo?” he asks, holding it up (and making sure to keep a tight grip on it at that. “Yup! One’a my prized possessions– been playin’ it ‘s long as I could remember!”

➦                               ❛ - how long have y’uh had ‘em? i mean, i built mine on my own when i got lonely, just so that i could tune out th’ radio waves aliens have been honin’ in since. . . ever. - ❜

              the badger cants her head to the side, stepping over to wander’s side & let claws avoid their tips & let the pads of fingers graze along the neck of the instrument. smooth — metallic. . . the cool embrace of its riffs leave her fur frizzing up from the musical sense of enthusiasm. ears twitch, curling forward as though at any given moment the banjo itself would speak to her in notes. eyes flick between wander & the body of his possession, her hand hovering off as though it could’ve tainted its harmonious sound to begin with.

➦             now usually it was these feeling archetypes that made the badger extra antsy, but to be roped in along with WANDER into some makeshift proposal left her itching for an explanation. regardless of who had assumed, sticks instinctively hunkers down into an almost prehistoric squat, prepared to pounce if the need arose.

                               ❛ - me? HIM? wh-— what’re you tryna say, HUH? why us? why buckle us two like some hodgepodge curry dish? AM I JUST AN APPETIZER T’ YOU? - ❜

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“WOAH, WOAH, WOAH! CAREFUL WITH THE LIL’ GUY!” Wander’s cheerful tone immediately drops to a panic as he attempts to rescue his hat, firmly yanking it from the badger before carefully inspecting it and placing it back atop his head. (Of course, not before making sure to dust it off first.)

He’s thankful that the hat wasn’t torn to shreds (though, a little worse for wear) whilst he gently pats it, keeping a steady hand to hold his hat up in case Sticks had any more ideas with the poor thing.

“Well, uh…” A long stretch of silence followed, scratching the back of his head and offering her a weak shrug. “It kinda jus’.. does?”

➦             as rabid as sticks is, she certainly took SOME form of care when it came to abducting his hat. no tears, but it certainly looked worse for wear. an eye ridge lifts quizzically at wander the more he dusts off his hat, practically treating it like some long lost friend. . . is the thing alive? her fingers hook under chin, thoughts snagged on the piece of attire known well to the lost star.

                               ❛ - no explanations usually mean it’s beyond comprehension. . . not good f’er worlds where physics kinda matter. i’ll cut’cha slack though, seeing as it’s y’er first time here & whad’ever. - ❜

➦             eyes narrow at the two inched copepod, sticks lowering onto hands & knees before planting her chin to the sand. how had this abomination drifted up from the beach, let alone washed ashore from the deep sea? she’s HEARD of plankton, but never one so large. . . then again, this is all hearsay from cliff.

                               ❛ - . . . first the sea, soon the sky — is this a sign th’ demonic feather rats ‘re plotting our demise, o’ lord ‘a the waves? - ❜

              in one sharp shrink of pupils, sticks reels in both letting puppy eyes shimmer in utmost respect & ogle in utter fear of upsetting the supposed eldritch horror from the depths of the ocean. ears fold back, tail hiking up as her rear heaves hips up in case it’s not obvious her head’s as low as the ground will let her, truly highlighting that — YES — this is no longer an attempt to make herself more his height but rather the jungle badger trying to bow to this godly stature she’s placed plankton upon. ( what a pedastal, sheesh. )

                               ❛ - humble me y’er wisdoms, please. . . i only wish t’ not incur th’ wrath ‘a which you wield!-— - ❜

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“Buuuut you could always put in a new battery, ‘n it’ll be back to it’s ol’ self!” he cheerfully replied. Her sad analogy wasn’t enough to break the wanderer’s spirits.

Though, at the mention of a banjo, his nonexistent ears were sure to perk up.

“Well, y’could say that,” he hums, a hand reaching into his hat. “Or-”

A dramatic pause, grin growing ever wider, his banjo now pressed against his hip.

“Who’s t’say you can’t write a whole new tune?”

➦             what’s with this guy & removing his hat? it isn’t until she spots him whipping out his fellowship that she stammers back a step, eyes wide in sudden exuberance. fur hikes as she hunkers down, launching off feet to tackle the hat from atop wander & football roll with it wrestled between her mitts. as it wriggles while she shakes it, it’s brim forms a frown while the rabid badger takes to trying to figure out it’s mechanics. ah, familiar much?

                               ❛ - music can wait — what sorcery beyond the macabre mechs ‘a government faciliations is this?? no such commodity should exist, except f’er maybe time travel & dimensional upkeep. - ❜ yet another meta moment with the comedic relief. as teeth bear, sticks takes to fussing a finger to her forehead, scratching curiously while still manhandling her hatted grip.

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Oop. Well. He definitely wasn’t expecting her to take the whole sandwich, but– if it kept her fed, then he wasn’t complaining! He popped the torn off piece of sandwich into his mouth, tilting his head at the inquiry.

“Who I am?” he retorted (of course, minding his manners) as he flipped the hat back onto his head. “Oh, well– that’s simple. I’m me, Wander!”

➦             sticks watches on as the nomad slaps his floppish hat back atop his peanut-shaped head, confused why he’s so prominent with the item. ah, & of course he’s just as plain about his introduction. not like she can expect him to be so grandeous like doctor eggman or lyric. nothing can stop her brow from twitching in minute irritation. ( almost makes her miss having eggman around all the time. KEYWORD : ALMOST. )

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“Aw, gosh, I didn’t mean to frighten ya!” Wander’s tone turns apologetic, smile faltering as his voice lowers to a more gentle hum– although, he doesn’t seem all too phased by the badger’s quick attempt to turn this into a fight (which he hopes, and is thankfully, relieved that it doesn’t.)

“Ah-” he pauses momentarily, eyes slowly gazing upwards to his hat before settling back on the badger yet again, being careful to keep his movements as steady as possible. “This what yer lookin’ for?”

Flipping the hat over, he digs through the brim before pulling out a sandwich (mustard, of course) as he tugs off a corner, offering it to the wary girl.

“Go on– y’can take it.”

➦                               ❛ - wh-— - ❜

              what kind of trick was this? first he pretends like he can’t speak, now he’s offering her food? a grabby hand snatches the snack off from the wanderer, eyes narrowed in spite of his kindness. one can never be too sure of what they’re being handed right off the bat. like a deck of cards, she thumbs through the sandwich’s contents for a moment before staring back at wander. weird choice of condiment ; she won’t bicker.

                               ❛ - ‘m not beggin’ f’er food, y’know. tryna figure out WHO y’ are. . . hopefully not some walkin’ conspiracy. - ❜ oh sticks, wait until you find out his alien lineage. HOO BOY.

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It wasn’t unusual that the wanderer frequently had animals chasing after his nonexistent tail– he made sure to make it a point to feed them every now and then on his travels to make sure they didn’t go hungry– hence keeping the snack his hat decided to keep in there for such occasions.

Animals never feared getting close to the nomad– heck, it was frequently welcomed by Wander, with him cooing to the creatures, and of course, giving them a few head scritches now and then.

So, to him, her wary curiosity wasn’t unusual, but welcomed.

Giggles slipped past the traveler’s lips at the curiosity of the badger, being sure to keep as still as possible despite the ticklish sensation, making an attempt not to spook her. 

“Hey there, lil’ fella– lookin’ for a snack?”

➦             hearing the nomad beneath her suddenly speak makes limbs tense & fur bristle as that nasally shriek cries out & the mobian leaps off from wander in an instant. fists are thrown up in that comical scheme of “put up your dukes”, spiraling towards herself as she hops to & fro in preparation.

                               ❛ - aw’right, WHAT’S THE BIG IDEA? led me ont’uh thinkin’ y’er some fuzzy statue a minute ago — what’s a wise guy like you gettin’ his kicks for? - ❜

...Are you okay?

➦                               ❛ - that depen’s on who’s askin’. how do i know y’er not some spy sent my way t’ see if i’ve let my guard down? for all i know, y’er a distraction so the REAL DEALS can slide into my burrow t’ replace all my hard work wit’ eggplants! - ❜

➦             nuh uh, she doesn’t trust like that. the fuzzy peanut gets no more of a greeting then a ferocious badger stalking close on hands & feet, sniffing around his ankles & soon up his back. it isn’t long until her nose brings her just short of his hat, peeking just under its brim with little huffs of her senses.

Gives you a Krav Maga manual.

➦             claws quietly grip down on the manual handed to her, brows lifting rather high on the badger’s visage. to think one could give her something so miniscule but laborous towards her disposition on the world around her! a range of emotions clashes in trying to express her gratitude, only for a smile to win out. it’s no thanks to these faceless folk anyways that the government is able to track ip locations, right? though anonymity was a blessing for most, wasn’t it.