#lockenlode

2/2 He looks to be a Horrortale Papyrus bitty. He doesn’t speak any language, just babble, but I’ve had some success with a picture board. All his teeth are broken, likely on purpose, so he need soft foods. He doesn’t like other bitties, we think he was used as both bait and a heat aid for them so he screams if they’re near, but he seems okay with humans. Anyway, I hope you can help, he doesn’t have long left. We think they just called him Bait, but maybe that should change.

- - -

A bitty fighting ring.

Fuck.

Pardon my language, but FUCK.

I’m going to have to talk to Mama and make sure she’s aware of the situation, she came to us from a similar situation and could get violent if she thinks we’re getting a fighter. I’ll get a space together for the little guy, it’s going to be difficult to properly care for him since pretty much everybody here at the Sanctuary besides myself is a type of bitty.

As for the name... Well. No body deserves to be named BAIT.

Until he feels better and decides to choose a name for himself, I’m going to go with my gut and name this little survivor after one of my favorite Irish mythological heroes- Cu Chulainn, the mighty hound of Ulster.

///

“Remember, stay out of sight until I’ve got him settled, okay? He’s scared of other bitties, pretty much the opposite of Pocket, so he’s going to be staying with us here in my room until we can figure out something better.”

“S’why y’made that house thingy?”

Cell nodded, lowering themselves down onto their knees next to the bed. Underneath, a large cardboard box had been set up much like the kennel apartments in the medbay, large enough for a nice bed and space to store clothing and personal items without feeling crowded or stuffy. Strings of tiny fairy lights were stitched through the top, giving a warm ambient glow to the comfy little space. Hopefully, the badly spooked little Horror Pap would like it...

“Okay, Brass, I’m gonna help him out of my hoodie. Could you go to your room for a little bit?”

The brassberry frowned, but nodded, moving from the desk where he had been sitting over to a ladder that went all the way to the top of a bookcase, where another box apartment had been set up, though it looked much more lived in. With their roommate out of the way, Cell hunkered down and gently reached into their sweatshirt to where the latest addition to the Center had decided to hide himself upon being given over, tucked up under Cell’s arm and making an honest attempt at melding into their turtleneck.

“Hey, Cu, you ready to see your new room? We can move it to where ever you want, but I thought you’d like the privacy under the bed.”

When the bitty didn’t respond, Cell tried not to take it personally. The Horror Pap didn’t understand really all that was going on, and had apparently never been around anyone speaking long enough to pick up any kind of language, so communication was difficult at best. So far, they had been making do with a calming vocal tone and gestures bordering on sign language, but the hardest part was trying to move the little guy without scaring or hurting him. He seemed to be really clingy and touch starved, but screamed when he was handled in any way he didn’t like, which was a frightening learning process.

Cell reached a few fingers towards the bitty, watching to make sure his eye lights were tracking, and very gently tapped him on the nearest wrist. He jolted, startled, but looked up and seemed to finally notice that it was quite a bit lighter. He clung harder, and Cell sighed, sitting back on their legs.

“It’s okay, Cu, we’ve got all night...”

Happy to have been able to help, I totally understand not wanting to stress out your dearest companion. I personally usually end up hiding out after the initial meet and greet at family get togethers, social anxiety is So Much Fun.

Chester was a little bummed out at first, he didn’t really want to talk to anyone for the first day, but that’s normal for any bitty, let alone a Honey Bo. We all pretty much just let him be to settle in and just made sure he got something to eat and knew he was allowed free reign on the books and other entertainment goodies. It was Brass who ended up managing to coax him out with an offer of shared holiday candies, which surprised everybody, I think including Brass himself. They ended up hanging out together for most of Chester’s stay, and I’m fairly certain between the two of them my stash of nectar lozenges will never recover.

Overall, I’m fairly certain Chester had a fun time, and I know he was a very sweet guest. He actually helped out Halim in the infirmary a couple times while doing the daily check ups, calming a few of our more skittish patients with his calm demeanor. Bobbin seemed especially taken by him, which is lovely to see, since Bobbin is still incredibly wary of anyone bigger than himself and still doesn’t trust Halim to give him a full check up and thus isn’t allowed to leave the medbay to prevent any hidden illnesses from getting to the rest of the house. Once four week round robin of colds begin passed around is enough for me, good grief.

Uuuugh, God, but I hate when people do this. Not you, mind, your Aunt.

People should NOT buy other people bitties for MANY reasons, chief among them being the fact that nobody REALLY knows how life is going for another person and have no idea what their home life or financial situation might be like. This particular situation is exacerbated greatly by the fact that Yanderetale bitties, Brassberries especially, require special time and attention to properly care for their needs.

Christ in a bucket, this is worse than idiot parents buying their kids bunnies on Easter…

Key and I will take it from here, I commend you for doing what you could to take care of this little guy despite the poor circumstances. I’m just sorry that either of you had to go through this in the first place.

- - -

It had been a while since Cell had dealt with any Brassberry bitties besides their own, but they remembered their research and made sure to grab Key Largo on the way back to their office-slash-bedroom. Normally, they’d go by the medbay first, but Halim was in the middle of what amounted to open heart surgery on one of the new lamia bitties and the less he was disturbed, the better the lamia’s chances of survival.

Despite everything, the Brassberry seemed to be in decent health, a little dirty and looking like he could use a meal and a nap, but his head wound was obviously recently cleaned and his eyelights were bright enough that Cell wasn’t worried about him going into a slump. Key Largo had Sized Up the moment he heard news of a fellow Brassberry coming into the Center, and he kept pace with his human as they carried the newcomer through the building. He honestly couldn’t remember the last time he’d been around another of his kind, and knew he was probably coming off as defensive with the way he hovered, but he couldn’t help it. Between his experiences with his previous owner and Cell’s inherently Kind SOUL often turning them self-sacrificing, Key wound up being more of a worrywart that he would ever care to admit.

Cell let the Brassberry off at their desk, where a bitty sized couch and coffee table had been secured next to the access for a rope and wood ladder. A laptop and an older model printer occupied a good portion of the rest of the desktop, next to a cardboard filebox that had seen better days but still had enough life in it to serve a purpose. On the other side of the desk, Key took a seat on one of the mismatched armless cushioned chairs that served as seating for visitors, while Cell set to digging through the filebox.

“Okay, so… We’re doing things a little out of order, since we can’t give you a check up right now, but we can get started on the paperwork so the city won’t ream my ass for ‘illegally housing exotic animals’.”

One could practically FEEL the air quotes around the last part of the sentence as Cell spoke, rolling their eyes with an expression like they’d smelled something gross as they pulled out two packets of paper. One packet was sized for a human sized being, but the other was much smaller for bitty hands. The new Brassberry stared as the smaller packet was offered to him, eyelights darting from the packet to the human and back.

“Go on. I’d like you to read through it so you know your rights and everything while you’re here.”

“…why?”

The Brassberry’s voice was quiet, rough with disuse, and Cell frowned a little, mentally noting the badly disguised confusion on those minute features. A glance was all it took for Key to lean forward, elbows on the desk next to the newcomer as he leaned only just into the bitty’s space.

“Cause you matter. Cause you never did anythin’ wrong. Cause you didn’t ask t’be made. Cause my human, for some asinine reason-”

“Hey-!”

“-Believes that every bitty deserves a chance at a better life, no matter who they are, what type they might be, or what they’ve had t’live through. And that includes knowing your rights as a sentient, sapient magical being.”

Key Largo’s eyelights flickered, white turning the soothing ocean teal of his magic that had given him his name, and the miniature packet was lifted with care into the Brassberry’s faintly trembling hands. 

“Read through it. Ask questions. S’what we’re here for.”

Locke

Headcanon A:  realistic

Locke has stupid high pain tolerance, even for a Brassberry. Judging by the deep scars on much of his skeleton and how his magic adapted to make him twice as bulky, it's thought that the tolerance was learned.

Headcanon B: while it may not be realistic it is hilarious

Locke has given up entirely on the hyper masculine gender performance common amongst Brassberries. He doesn't care what he looks like, so long as he clean and comfy and covers his limbs. This has resulted in Locke unintentionally wearing attire much more suited to a grandparent or Fred Jones.

Headcanon C: heart-crushing and awful, but fun to inflict on friends

He will never say it aloud, but Locke still worries that he'll be returned someday. The only one who knows this worry is Pocket.

Headcanon D: unrealistic, but I will disregard canon about it because I reject canon reality and substitute my own.