#phantom bitty

I hopped out of bed the next morning with all the vigor of a person who has just woken up and hasn't yet had a chance for circumstance (such as the chaos of getting seven bittys dressed for the day) to crush all of their energy and motivation. That vigor diminished when Red and Brassy both decided to protest pants for some reason (viva la nudity!), and Berry the Yanberry rolled out of bed spewing a string of, admittedly impressive, swear words and phrases. The potty-mouthed bastard could probably beat me at Scrabble without using a single appropriate word.

Triple points if I say “oh my God” while looking the term up on Urban Dictionary, and no, I'm not going to ask him to use it in a sentence.

Fortunately, my miniscule assistant, Corvus the Kara bitty, had a handle on his adopted nestlings. He and Buttons were fully dressed though the newly named Egg the Softbones still wore his comfy pajamas, which was par for the course with his bitty type. Phantom had picked out an outfit for himself though he noticeably lacked a shirt and obviously thought the look suited him. Of course a grumpy Brassy and still-pantsless Red heckled him to "put some damn clothes on.” (fuckin’ showoff)

It felt like time to accept that “good enough” would be my mantra from now on if I wanted to get anything done. I escorted my bitty brigade into the kitchen for breakfast where I discovered round 2 of energy-sapping problems. Buttons already had a specific dietary guideline: no meat, and Red still maintained his allergy to shrimp as long as they weren't shrimp from my plate (it's a fickle allergy). Would my new bittys have special dietary requests too?

First, I divided the seven boys into herbivores and carnivores. Kara kooed that he would join Buttons as a vegetarian, and Egg the Softbones gave a thumbs-up of agreement from where he dozed facedown on the counter when Kara prompted him. Berry and Phantom opted to participate in the mysterious Meat Club (you're not supposed to talk about it)(And that shirtless asshole ain't invited!) that Red and Brassy had started. Being the sweetheart that he is, Buttons suggested that the vegetarians eat in the living room so that us carnivores weren't relegated to the “garage of shame” (bold of him to assume that i feel shame).

Next, I asked Corvus if he minded eating eggs since I planned to make a vegetable omelet for breakfast. I worried that he might find egg consumption offensive considering his bird-like appearance. Instead, he kooed out a laugh and ruffled his wing feathers. Apparently my question amused him, but he reassured me that eggs were fine with him. I took it as a good sign that we'd all be eating breakfast together and got the entire crew gathered at the table so I could start cooking.

Omelets don't take long to make, even if I needed to chop a few mushrooms, peppers, and onions. Even that short amount of time was far too long for me to expect my bitty boys to behave themselves.

The problem started when Phantom made a flirty comment while I prepped ingredients. A scuffle ensued, but by the time I turned to scold my bittys at knifepoint, they stared back at me with perfect innocence and strangely disheveled clothing (he started it)(Nothing happened). This weird occurrence kept weirdly occurring every few seconds until I plopped a warm, fluffy omelet onto the table and began portioning tiny servings onto bitty-sized plates. Seven teensy skeletons settled down to their meals.

The reactions varied. Kara kooed happily, and Egg actually sat up to eat. Buttons declared the food to be delicious, a sentiment that Berry echoed with an unnecessary amount of expletives that had probably never been used to describe an omelet before. Brassy shoveled down his plateful so fast that I doubted he tasted it at all, but he opened his mouth to comment anyway only to be interrupted by Phantom tossing another flirtatious compliment my way. 

There was a single beat of silence.

Then breakfast devolved into pandemonium.

Corvus escorted Egg, Buttons, and Berry away from the explosive fray, each bitty taking his breakfast with him. Red had double handfuls of omelet and appeared to be trying to shove them into Phantom's eye sockets (yup). Phantom easily fended him off with his superior reach, though Brassy threw him off balance with a wild leg tackle. Pieces of omelet flew everywhere as I separated the three bittys who stubbornly continued to throw both insults and breakfast at each other.

I grounded Red (unfair) and Brassy (We were defending your honor!) to their respective bitty houses. Phantom, Corvus, Egg, Buttons, and Berry were relocated to the living room to finish their breakfast in front of the TV. I turned on a reality show to drown out Red's enraged (rightfully!) screeching and the sound of him slamming around anything he could find that he hadn't already destroyed, which turned out to be not much after last night's destructive tantrum.

I cleaned up the kitchen table then brought my own meal into the living room. I spent more time pondering than eating, and by the time I figured out a solution to the jealousy conundrum, my once steaming eggs had become cold gelatinous blobs on my plate. I refused to get rid of Phantom (boo), but I knew a surefire way to make Red and Brassy behave:

Bribery.

(i can be bought)

I am definitely not above bribing my bittybones for a little peace and quiet. It's time to implement Good Boy Points!

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Apparently, my bittybones really enjoy trashy reality television. Corvus the Kara bitty, Egg the Softbones, Buttons, Yanberry, and Phantom stared enraptured as stupid humans (basically all humans) said and did stupid things in crystal clear HD with surround sound. I'm not one to look a gift distraction in the mouth, so I proceeded with my idea for the Good Boy Points, or G.

I started by digging a collection of small Mason jars out of the cupboard from my brief stint as a person who thinks she can make her own sauces, pickles, and preserves. Canning one's own food is an art form in which I possess zero talent, and I ended up wasting a significant amount of time, money, and produce with very little to show for it aside from burned fingers. I've learned my lesson though: just get store bought. My standards aren't all that high anyway (you did adopt that shirtless asshole…).

Since I still had the jars, I decided to turn my DIY failure into a DIY opportunity! I dug out another box stuffed full of forgotten craft projects that had also surpassed my limited talents. Choosing seven equally sized jars, I got to work decorating. These would be excellent banks for the Good Boy Points, and nobody would judge my sub-par construction (that's what you think)!

I adorned each jar with a name tag, leaving the lids off because I don't have the tools to make a slot in them, and I wouldn't know how to use the tools even if I did. I wrapped the mouth of each container with a different color of dyed suede cord: red for Red (your favorite!), teal for Brassy, blue for Buttons, purple for Yanberry, black for Corvus, pastel pink for Egg, and yellow for Phantom. 

All I had left to do was make the actual Good Boy Points. I wanted my boys to have something tangible to show for their good deeds. I took some thin sheets of balsa wood that, once upon a time, I tried to use to make (rickety) bitty furniture for Red. My carpentry career ended in a tragic bitty bed collapse (i almost dusted). Now I punched out tiny circles with a hole punch, catching Buttons’ and Berry’s attention.

I showed the pair of curious bittys the shimmery paints that I wanted to use on my wooden counterfeit currency, and they immediately volunteered to help with the painting. Soon, the three of us had created an assembly line, churning out quite a substantial supply of bronze, silver, and gold “coins.” Sure, Buttons and Berry ended up partially gilded, but we accomplished our task… just in time for lunch!

I may be bad at crafts (and building furniture and dating and paying attention to your precious edgy bitty), but I can whip up an ooey, gooey delicious grilled cheese sandwich in a matter of minutes. I even graciously added ham to one of the sandwiches for my little meat maulers. I handed out bitty-sized cubes of toasted bread and melted cheese without ham to Corvus, Egg, and Buttons and ones with ham to Berry and Phantom. With a deep, calming breath, I entered the bedroom to deliver lunch to the inmates.

Red snatched his mini sandwich out of my hands then turned his back on me to eat it. I gave his head a little scratch anyway, and he growled halfheartedly. Brassy accepted his sandwich with a bit more manners (kiss ass), but he still pouted while he munched. I turned back to Red only to see two cheesy pieces of bread somehow stuck to the ceiling of his bitty house while Red himself held the ham between his jaws and shook it like a rabid dog (woof).

The introduction of Good Boy Points could not happen soon enough, so I collected Red, Brassy, and the ruined bread and headed for the living room. An irate Red demanded the remains of his lunch (it's mine!), and I reluctantly returned it to him, expecting it to end up on the living room ceiling. He ate it thankfully, but refused to let go of my hand when I tried to set him down next to his bitty brothers.

As soon as Brassy noticed Red's clinginess, he latched onto the hand that held him with his arms and legs. I resigned myself to my fate and allowed each of them to perch on one of my shoulders. Red promptly wrapped himself in my hair (i didn't want to fall) and glared balefully at the world around him.

I sat down cross legged on the floor and introduced my newly invented reward system to the boys with the reality show playing, forgotten now, in the background. The bittybones crowded around to check out their individual jars, and I explained that all good behavior would earn the bitty a Good Boy Point or G for short. No good deeds or bad behavior meant no G, though no G would be removed from a jar once awarded.

By this point, the two bittys who had stubbornly demanded to be held (me!)(And me) changed their minds in lieu of investigating the pile of freshly painted Good Boy Points. I continued my planned speech about the G, telling my potential good boys that their points could be redeemed for treats at the bitty shop or grocery store, specially requested items if I could find them, or the greatest reward of all: special one-on-one activities with me!

(sign me up!)

Yanberry happily exclaimed that he couldn't wait to redeem his G for a flamethrower, which led to a discussion about things my boys would not be buying with their points. They were not allowed to “draw me like one of their French girls” (i asked) especially since the only bitty with that much artistic talent only wanted a flamethrower. They would also not be joining me or watching me during showers or baths (I asked that one). I made a blanket rule forbidding all perverted, sexual, or dangerous uses of G which made Red, Brassy, and Berry sulk. 

I concluded my presentation by placing the first official Good Boy Points in Buttons’ and Berry’s jars since they had helped me with the project. I then awarded a G to each of my bittys for behaving during my explanation. Red tried to argue that he saw Phantom winking at me, and I had to point out that I did not consider winking to be bad behavior (it's a gateway bad behavior!). 

I very politely neglected to point out that I do, however, consider stealing to be bad behavior, and me and my five well behaved bittys had all pretended not see Red and Brassy stuffing quick handfuls of G into their pockets like the tiniest of kleptomaniacs.

(how dare you accuse us of such crimes)

I guess they didn't realize that the paint on some of the Good Boy Points hadn't completely dried yet.

It's hard to feign innocence when the gold, silver, and bronze evidence is sparkling on their sticky little palms.

(shit)

-

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The train was already off the rails, but trying to settle the new bittybones into their new rooms in the bitty house steered that derailed train into an alternate dimension where rails didn't even exist. 

My well laid plans crumbled the moment I placed Softbones down in his room. Corvus the Kara bitty quickly swooped into the same room, swept all of the available blankets into a nest-like pile on top of little Softy, and sat on him. Softy giggled and fell asleep, his tiny adorable snores filling his room. Corvus kooed in contentment, apparently satisfied with the safety and warmth of his adopted "egg."

The phrase "the more, the merrier" clearly does not extend to bittybone adoption, a fact which I learned on the drive home from the bitty convention. First I had to politely ask Phantom not to smoke in enclosed spaces when he took out a pack of bitty sized cigarettes. Who even makes teeny, tiny cigarettes anyway? Next, I chastised my jealous little Edgy and Brassberry bittys because their combined glower power was well over 9000 and aimed directly at Phantom.

(he deserved it)

That's when the swearing started. The source of the swearing? One adorable, innocent-looking Yanberry with an impressive vocabulary of wildly inappropriate language.

(enough to make an edgy proud)

Little Buttons the Blank bitty stared, sockets wide with admiration as the freckle-faced gremlin described everything as an [adjective] ass [noun], used f-bombs in a grammatically correct format for almost every single word in a sentence, and loudly suggested that an aggressive driver should do things that were both physically impossible and legally frowned upon with graphic detail. Now, I myself am known to use an occasional ass expletive to tell some fucker what they can do with their own genitalia and mother (go momma!), but I knew I would have to have a conversation with Yanberry about reining it in… a lot. 

The last thing I want is for sweet, innocent Buttons to start talking like a sailor at a swearing competition. 

Gigi covered her mouth with her hand, trying to muffle her laughter as I explained that Yanberry would have to censor his language. The deceptively cute little bastard then proceeded to go through his entire repertoire of vulgarity, asking me one at a time and alphabetically if each individual word or phrase was acceptable. It took every scrap of patience that I had, plus a 30 year, high interest patience loan to deal with the utter and unrivaled sass. Maybe I should have adopted several more Edgy bittys instead.

(she looked like she might explode. it was great.)

Red and Brassberry cackled like hyenas at Yanberry's antics until Phantom decided to give me a comforting kiss on the back of my hand. Suddenly my two jelly skellies decided that a round of no-holds barred, every bitty for himself wrestling death match would be a fun travel activity (it was!). I quickly put a stop to it (boo) just as we pulled up in front of the house.

Yanberry, Buttons, Jealous 1 (me!), Jealous 2 (Why can't I be Jealous 1?), and Phantom all opted to ride in my infinity scarf for the best vantage point going into the house. After getting them somewhat situated, I gathered my shopping bags and peeked into the basket carrier to check on my last two bittys.

Corvus the Kara bitty gave a sleepy "koo~" before snuggling back down into the nest he'd made from the soft blankets inside. I spotted two itsy, bitsy slipper-clad feet sticking out from under the nest.

Apparently Corvus thought little Softbones was some sort of egg in need of incubation. Cute! I lifted the basket into my arms and headed into the house. We were fine. Everything was just fine. Nothing to see here, especially if I deliberately choose not to see it.

I pretended that Red hadn't just shoved his little hands in Brassy's face. 

I pretended that Brassy didn’t bite one of the offending hands.

I pretended not to hear an already-long-suffering sigh from Phantom.

I pretended that Yanberry didn't let out a string of creative curses about his "awesome ass new home."

I pretended that Buttons didn't quietly repeat one of the words in a tone of wonderment.

We were all going to be one big happy family.

Maybe.

Hopefully.

…

…

What have I gotten myself into?

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*Ok, there a few different sections to this question. Let me start with the size information. I don’t offer Dream or Reaper lamia bittybones on my blog, but I looked up the size information for them:

Reaper lamia bitty (Phantom): Full Sized – 3-5 feet (total) / 1-2 feet (standing)        Miniature – 1-1.5 feet (total) / 5-7 inches (standing)

Dream lamia bitty (Lumen): 9-15 inches long (total) / 5 inches (standing)

*Phantoms are available to adopt from @selkiesbittybonanza though she is not currently doing scenarios. Lumen are available to adopt from @tails-and-scales.

*Size information on the lamia bittybones offered at this shop can be found on each lamia’s bitty bio (just click the Lamia Bittybones link on the pinned post) or at this link: Lamia bittybones’ sizes

*There is currently no limit to the number of lamias that you can adopt from this shop, however, please remember that each lamia needs personal care and attention. We don’t recommend adopting too many bitties of any type as it can be difficult to keep track of and care for all of them.

*If you would like an adoption scenario for bittybones available at this shop, please let me know.

“i have a suggestion,” Red volunteered for the umpteenth time since we’d crossed into the bitty adoption area of the convention.

“We are not going to skip the other adoptions,” I told him, also for the umpteenth time since entering the bitty adoption area.

“But we could,” ventured Brassberry, actually agreeing with his sibling and nemesis for the umpteenth time since entering the bitty adoption area.

Corvus the Kara bitty koo’ed in exasperation, and I couldn’t have agreed more. Nothing united my two stubborn boys as effectively as vetoing additional bittybones adoptions. They’d been distracted when I adopted the agreed upon Kara bitty, but now I had their undivided attention and very vocal objections.

“We discussed all of this earlier,” I told them firmly, “and this isn’t a democracy. End of conversation.” I doubted the words would work; I knew my boys too well.

(i vote that we make it a democracy!)

(I second the vote!)

“tyranny!” declared Red.

“Vive la resistance!” shouted Brassberry.

“Your protests have been noted. We’re still adopting the new bittys,” I informed them.

“But-” they cried in unison.

“No buts!” Owning an Edgy and a Brassberry bittybones was a constant exercise in patience and strength of will.

“There were butts earlier,” grumbled Brassberry. Red vanished into my purse.

Soon the sounds of my possessions being destroyed by an Edgy tantrum emanated from the general vicinity of my purse. The two dissenters had given up on objecting for now, but I doubted things could be so easy, especially when I heard Red enthusiastically tearing fabric at my side.

(you doubted correctly)

Our first stop was a table with a canopy over it. Beneath the canopy, sheltered from the harsh lighting of the convention center, napped a pile of Softbones bittys. Some of them snored, and some of them kicked their tiny feet as they dreamed. The person overseeing the table provided wicker carrying baskets lined with blankets and soft pillows for adopters to carry their newly adopted Softbones in.

I offered to let Red and Brassy help me select a Softbones, but they maintained their icy silence. I nudged a few of the Softbones until one of them reflexively clung to my hand. I lifted the sleeping bitty to my face and inhaled deeply. Softbones smell wonderful, and I hoped adopting one would help Buttons sleep more peacefully. The attendant carefully placed my bitty selection in one of the baskets, and we moved along to the next table.

(i was taken to the next table against my will!)

The lack of loud complaining made me nervous. I would not put it past my two boys to be up to something (i am extremely well-behaved except when i’m being treated unfairly, or hungry, or not being paid attention to, or need a nap….), but Corvus, the sweetheart, climbed down into the basket and curled up next to the Softbones for a nap.

The next table held a small selection of bittybones, including the type I wanted. As I observed the Yanberries, they scurried to and fro, sorting through boxes of clothing and playing dress-up. A few of them were even accessorizing. Buttons really loves fashion, but I don’t want to traumatize him with buttons and sewing needles. I hoped that a Yanberry could work with him to bring his fashion ideas to life without Buttons having to handle things he’s not ready for yet.

I couldn’t help chuckling as a Yanberry darted past me with a handful of ribbons. His outfit was brightly colored, and his cheekbones were spattered with cute (stupid!) little freckles. He stopped when he heard me cooing over him (boo!) and smiled up at me.

My purse grumbled, but I ignored it.

A humanoid monster who worked at the stand helped me select some outfits for the new Yanberry and cautioned me that he will want lots of clothing and creative projects to keep him happy (high maintenance). I listened, nodding politely as the boos and hisses from my purse increased in volume. The Yanberry joined Corvus and the Softbones in the basket since the purse seemed to be a rather unwelcoming environment at the moment.

I chose to adopt the Kara bitty, the Yanberry, and the Softbones because I wanted to provide the best bitty family possible for Buttons (we were already the best family!), but when I saw a sign describing the G!Sans bitty called Phantom, I knew I wanted one for myself.

My boys were not going to like this one bit.

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Kara bitty by bitty-fluff

Softbones bitty by bittybones-au