♱ starter for @morticane
tiny sized predator enters the room and sneaks upon her mother, as quietly as possible. she doesn't blink nor is she breathing ﹘ it has to be a surprise. otherwise, what is she even doing? hand reaches out, grabbing morticia's piece of clothing, carefully analyzing her movements. a sigh follows. she gives up. torturing pugsley ended hasty and along with it, her disposition.
“mother, i can't believe i was brought to this position and to say the following is truly agonizing,” she whines, taking a seat to next to her mother. lot of thoughts are plaguing wednesday, yet none as important as losing her interest in toying with her siblings. “but i'm afraid i no longer have macabre interests.” she almost throws her hands in the air in defeat. she feels sick. “sure, pugsley's locked in the bathroom and i used etherum gas through the ventilation shaft to induce hallucinations and possibly knock him out. but it no longer feels right... am i... sick?”
