#bittycon2017

We spent the next few hours at BittyCon focusing on food, fashion, and fun. I found a much nicer merchant selling quality leather clothing and accessories for bittybones of all sizes. Brassy Bean picked out a new silver-studded jacket, and Red got a gorgeous oxblood leather collar without being hassled about his bitty type.

After even more table browsing (and a few additional purchases), we munched our way through the food court, trying a little bit of fried everything while nouveau fashion icons Red and Brassy leaned out of my purse, desperately clambering for attention from passersby.

(you mean our adoring fans)

I discussed possible names for the new Kara bitty with him over powdered sugar-dusted funnel cake and tropical fruit smoothies. Together, we decided on Corvus, the Latin word for raven. Red and Brassy were more interested in trying a spicy wing challenge than choosing names, and despite my many, many unheeded warnings, my two very competitive bittybones squared off with a drumette each, drenched in a sauce that made my eyes water just from smelling it!

(Pfft, you're just a spice wimp, Momma!)

(yea, tough guys like us can handle the heat!)

Brassy and Red chowed down like tiny, ravenous wolves… and immediately regretted it.

(My whole body burned)

(i was dying)

I actually had to strip both of my bittys down and bathe them in milk provided by the wing shop as a courtesy to remove the sauce and soothe the full-body burning sensation. With their pain relieved, Brassy and Red went right back to squabbling, namely arguing over who won their spicy wing competition.

(I won. I ate more of it!)

(you also threw it up all over the table)

I quietly reassured Corvus that Buttons behaved better than both of his brothers combined, but the newly-adopted bitty seemed to be amused by the other two bittys’ antics. He'd have a lifetime to get tired of their constant shenanigans, so I simply responded to his indulgent smile with one of my own.

Knowing that Brassy and Red would never settle their argument (because i won) (No, I won!), I distracted them with a different activity. One of the convention tables featured a Bittybones Treasure Hunt where bittys could dig around in brightly colored sand and find shiny polished crystals. I knew my boys would love it.

Red claimed a corner of the sandbox and several shovels to painstakingly excavate, but Brassberry took a different approach. He crouched down on all fours and scooped sand with both hands like an enthusiastic puppy. Sand flew everywhere, including across the invisible line separating Red’s territory from Brassy’s.Using his shovel like a catapult, Red launched a counterattack.

At first, I was mortified by the behavior, but the person in charge of the table waved me away, telling me to let the boys have their fun. He told me it was the most entertaining thing he’d seen all day. A crowd gathered to watch my two bittys wage war over a small wooden box of sand, the polished stones forgotten, flung aside in favor of more gritty ammunition. I heard a small koo from my shoulder. Corvus laughed uproariously at the spectacle, and I soon joined him.

Time expired on Red and Brassy’s Treasure Adventure, and the attendant carefully separated and bagged the stones that each of my bittys had unearthed… and mostly scattered across the floor. Red and Brassy climbed back into my purse to count and compare their prizes, animosity forgotten as they admired their loot.

(i found more)

(Mine were bigger)

The convention would be ending soon, and I still had an unfinished errand, or rather, two unfinished errands. I headed back into the adoption area, and Red and Brassy tensed and fell silent. We’d all sat down and discussed the plans for today before we even left the house this morning, but hearing about adopting more bittybones and actually picking them out were two very different experiences.

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I stood in front of the table, staring down at the adorable robot bitty, who blinked at Red and I with a sweet, innocent expression on his precious face. The little guy had round purple eyelights, and he wore wire framed glasses. He honestly seemed confused by the word angry, but leave it to Red to find a creative way to illustrate an all-too-familiar emotion.

(hey, i’m not angry all the time)

Red scrambled down my scarf, swinging from a loose fold of it like a small, skeletal Tarzan. Fortunately he skipped the yelling part though I chalked that up to his focus on reaching his destination- the discarded jelly beans at the bottom of my purse.

(i was busy, but i saved up all my yelling for later! you’re welcome!)

I’m not a messy person (ha!), and generally my purse would not contain random, abandoned candies. That morning I’d packed some jelly beans for Red to munch during the convention (i saw you eating them too!). Shame on me, I’d foolishly forgotten to sort the beans and remove any cinnamon-flavored ones from the mix. Red had taken it upon himself to chuck the offending beans out of the Ziploc baggie.

Now, he fished one of the cinnamon-flavored jelly beans out from under a disgruntled Brassberry’s feet, shoving his bitty brother several times during his search. He actually exclaimed “Eureka!” when he found one. I’ve never seen him act so cute.

(i’m perpetually endearing. you just don’t pay enough attention)

Hopping out of the purse, Red scurried across the table to the robot bitty and held out his retrieved prize as if he were proposing to the other bitty with it. “This is what angry tastes like,” he explained as the other bitty accepted his offering and popped it into his mouth. The spicy taste didn’t faze him at all.

The little robot smiled brightly at Red “Thank you!” he chirped cheerfully. “I’m Peppi. What’s your name?” I left Red to introduce himself to his new friend. I had business to attend to. Not wanting to leave Brassberry out of the socializing, I placed him on the table as well. He immediately hurried over to a crowd of other fully evolved Blank bittys who chattered amicably a short distance from the robot bitty.

Miss Fluffers had watched patiently while my bittybones interacted with hers, and once they’d finally settled in to make some new friends, she greeted me warmly. “You’re Buttons’ caretaker, aren’t you?” she asked before I had a chance to speak. She extended a hand to me.

“I am,” I replied, shaking her offered hand. “And I need some help for him.”

She smiled. I couldn’t believe how friendly she was! Meeting her was like meeting a celebrity in the bittybones world. Everyone wanted to talk to her about her award-winning Blank bittybones or her uniquely styled art. The fact that she knew about Buttons at all spoke highly of the tightly knit and well-informed Blank bitty community.

“What can I do for you?” she asked me.

“Buttons still has some lingering injuries from the Buttontale Bitty Incident. I’d like to adopt a Kara bitty, one with healing abilities, to look after him.”

“Healing isn’t a common trait for Kara bitties, but I happen to have one here with decent healing magic if you’d like to meet him.” I agreed without any hesitation. Buttons needed this. I followed Miss Fluffers to a second table where she had her adoptable bittybones set up to meet potential owners.

The Kara with the healing powers was quite a handsome specimen. Markings in the shape of bird footprints crisscrossed his skull, and his feathers shone a shimmering iridescent blue-black. His fluffy tail wiggled to and fro as we approached him. I gently tickled his little, round cheek, and he giggled, blue eyes sparkling with joy. When I asked if he’d be interested in joining our growing family, he responded with an enthusiastic “koo!”

“Well, I can’t argue with that,” Miss Fluffers chuckled. She gave the Kara bitty a loving goodbye kiss on the top of his skull, and he flew from her hands to perch on my shoulder with yet another “koo!” What a charming little darling!

I went to fetch Red, who appeared to be quite enjoying Peppi’s company (we’re friends now). He gave the robot bitty a cheeky wink. “Un-tail next time then, Peppi,” he called over his shoulder as I scooped him up and placed him on my other shoulder. Peppi giggled and waved to him. I looked around for Brassy.

Brassberry came dashing towards me from around a corner. A trickle of fresh blood leaked from his nasal cavity. He leapt forward, and I caught him and deposited him quickly into the safety of my purse.

“What happened to you?” I asked him in shock.

“I touched a butt,” he answered smugly.

“And it gave you a nosebleed?” I was understandably incredulous.

“Nah.” Brassy grinned. “He punched me.”

He didn’t look the least bit sorry.

(It was totally worth it)

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Blank bittybones by gigglesbittyblog

I waited until Red had collected himself (i am highly collectible) before returning to the conference room. I didn’t want him to feel embarrassed by his outburst (haven’t been embarrassed by an outburst yet!), so I crept quickly back to our vacated seat. I checked to make sure I wasn’t about to sit on Brassy (not that he’d complain), only to find him missing (good)!

Unlike some bittybones I could name, Brassy is usually well-behaved (are you implying that Buttons is poorly behaved?), so I doubted he’d just wander off. I peered under the chair, thinking he might’ve fallen. Nobody noticed my frantic searching; almost everyone in the room had gone to congratulate the pageant winners and take pictures of the Blank bitty champions for this year. What if one of them had stepped on Brassy... or kidnapped him?

(i would thank them)

I felt panic rising. I wrung my hands together, trying to decide what I should do. Start screaming for him? Screaming seemed like a good idea. At least it seemed like a better idea than snatching people’s purses and searching them for my lost bitty. I just needed to breathe, needed to find him, needed to act right now. My fight or flight response kicked into high gear, but just as I was about to indulge in both options at once, I saw him.

Unaware of my near panic attack, Brassy stood on the folding table in front of the panel of experts, waving at me enthusiastically. The energy drained out of my body, and I swayed on my feet. I let relief carry me forward to collect my wayward bitty.

I started to apologize for his intrusion when I recognized the young woman sitting at the table. She was a well-known expert in bittybones care, specializing in Blank bittys. My apology turned into mixed up sputtered words as Brassy dashed over to be picked up.

“Oh, geez, I’m so sorry. Was he bothering you? I’m so sorry. I told him to-” 

I couldn’t even finish my rambling because Red launched himself from my hands onto Brassy and began to slam his tiny fist into his adopted brother’s face. Brassy grappled with him and they wrestled savagely on the table. Red shrieked obscenities, scratching, biting, and kicking at Brassy while Brassy tried to hold him down. I quickly separated them, earning myself a nice deep bite mark on my hand.

“You made Momma have a panic attack,” roared Red, eyes blazing, tiny finger stabbing at Brassy in accusation.

“I was only asking about Buttons,” Brassy countered, giving me a guilty look. He obviously hadn’t realized how I would react to finding him missing. I could easily see he hadn’t meant to upset me and only wanted to help, but Red refused to see it that way.

(he upset you by being bad)

(You’re always bad!)

(i don’t make Momma cry)

Sure enough, unbidden tears ran down my face. Embarrassed beyond belief as my two boys bickered angrily, I began my tirade of apologies all over again. The bittybones expert smiled at me indulgently.

“Brassberry here was telling me about Buttons,” she said calmly. She had one of those voices that demanded to be heard without being raised in the slightest. My angry boys fell silent. (well, she was helping, so...) “I heard about the Button Bitty Incident. Such a terrible tragedy.” She shook her head sadly. “Did you have any questions about him? I’d love to help.”

I sighed. Where should I start? “I just want to know how to help him. Will he always feel like a Buttonberry and never get to be himself? Will he always be a child and never have a chance to grow up? I guess what I’m asking is, can Buttons be... well... reset to a proper Blank so he can be happy?”

She gave me a sympathetic look, and I knew there wouldn’t be a satisfactory outcome. I braced myself for disappointment. “Once they’ve settled into their true form, Blanks don’t tend to change much, but before you start to feel hopeless, let me ask you a question. Is Buttons unhappy?”

I thought about Buttons’ bubbly laughter, his bright blue eyes, the way he loved to snuggle Red (does not!). 

“No.”

“Do you want him to change? If he were reset to a proper Blank, he’d lose all of his personality.”

I thought about his confusion at finding out he wasn’t a Buttonberry and the promise I’d made to love him for himself. Buttons had gone through an unspeakable trauma, and he still hugged with his whole body and loved with his whole heart. Buttons lit up a room like a little shining star.

My shining star.

“As much as I’d love to take away the trauma of his past, I wouldn’t change a thing about who he is today,” I answered finally. She nodded wisely. I picked up my two boys and carried them back to our seat to hear the rest of the question and answer segment in contemplative silence.

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Blank bitty by gigglesbittyblog

The doors to the conference room finally opened, and my bittybones and I braved the surging (rude) crush of (smelly) human bodies to make sure we’d get a seat. A nervous-looking usher handed out programs explaining the different categories for the Blank bitty pageant: Organic, Non-organic, and Fashion. There would also be a question and answer segment afterwards featuring prominent Blank owners and experts. Excitement shot through me. I could ask about Buttons and his unusual circumstances!

I managed to secure a seat for us near the front and on the aisle, so we didn’t have to feel boxed in. We had an excellent view of the judges’ table (currently unoccupied) on our left, and the main stage front and center with soft natural light shining down on it from ceiling skylights.

Movement to the left caught my eye and I watch the three judges file in through a different doorway and take their seats at the table. I didn’t even need to see the name tags in front of them to identify Miss Fluffers. She wore a bunny-ear hoodie that obscured her face in shadow, and she’d brought her two Grand Champion Blank bittys, blue ribbons and all! The crowd collectively gasped at the mere sight of their well-known faces.

The original Kara blushed bright blue as the audience whispered and stared. His black feathers gleamed with iridescent midnight blue as they fluffed up against all of the watchful eyes.  His wings curved elegantly from his back, and the feathers also formed a fluffy ruff around his neck and hood above his plumage-tipped tail. The markings on his small skull resembled little bird footprints, and I could hear soft “koo” sounds coming from behind the hands that had risen to hide his face. 

(what a pussy!)

The other Blank bitty couldn’t have been more different. The name “Saika” decorated his extensive collection of ribbons, and he swam and twirled proudly in his fish bowl, showing off his silky blue, pink, and orange fins and flexible tail. Too orange and pink mottled ears topped his handsome orange-spotted features. The aquatic Blank radiated elegance and confidence.

(gaudy asshole)

I heard Red grumbling irritably near my ear. I turned to ask him what he was saying, but spotted him directing two tiny middle fingers at the two famous bittys. I had no idea what they’d done to anger him. Perhaps they’d accidentally glanced at him, breathed the communal air, or existed in the same general vicinity as him. I couldn’t be sure. Red isn’t exactly hard to piss off.

(they don’t have to do anything! they’re stuck up, arrogant bastards!)

(Jealous.)

(nothin’ to be jealous of)

(Momma was looking at them.)

(fuck you, Brassy)

I tried to enjoy the variety of Blank bittys on display in each pageant category, but every time a new bitty was brought forward, Red hissed angrily or made a snappish comment, distracting me. In the Organic category, ear, wings, tails, and extra appendages of all kinds abounded, and the Non-organic category featured Blanks who had taken on a robotic appearance. Even the Blanks who’d simply developed through fashion sense were breathtaking in sequins, ruffles, and resplendent colors, but Red didn’t enjoy even a second of it.

(i hated it)

I told Brassy to watch our seat, and ducked out into the hallway during the judging portion of the show. When I lifted Red from my shoulder and held him in front of my face, I could see unwanted tears escaping the corners of his sockets. His cheeks burned bright red in embarrassment at being caught crying.

(i was not crying!)

“What’s wrong, Red? If you had fur, it would’ve been standing on end!” I tried to make light of the situation and pretend I hadn’t noticed his tears, but my words were all wrong for the situation.

“Well I don’t have fur, and I’m never going to have fur... or feathers, or pretty colors, or any of those things!” he wailed, no longer able to hold back his emotions as tears poured from his sockets. “I’m just plain old me, and I’m no good! No wonder you want more bittys, better bittys!” His teeny frame shook as he sobbed, curled up in my hands.

“Shh.” I gave him a kiss on top of his miniature skull, and he looked at me, heartbroken. “I knew all about those other kind of bittybones, Red... and I chose you. That’s what makes you special to me. You’re the original. The one and only. My sweet, darling Red.”

He latched onto my thumb, clinging with his entire body, and I rubbed his itsy bitsy back as his trembling subsided. I waited until the competition ended, until I heard the sounds of the stage components being shoved out the way for the question and answer panel before we went back in to the conference room.

(this is... mostly... kind of... lies... probably...)

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Miss Fluffers, Kara, and Saika by bitty-fluff