... Um. Hey... ,,

Luigi didn't really mean to sneak up on the bat, but his fingers push together slightly as he meekly stands in full view of the bat now. He tugs on one of his overall straps, sighing and looking away.

... I'm glad you're okay. Er- I'm not here to hurt you or anything! I don't want to scare you, I didn't bring anyone with me either. Just me. ,,

He offers a small, nervous smile, the worry in his blue eyes evident in the way he gazed up at the other. He really had came to check up on him, after that final battle, he couldn't fight the gut feeling he was getting with Antasma not truly having died. There was just something in the way that defeat had gone that he wasn't able to shake. Any now, his observant nature had led him here.

... Look I... I can't apologize for defeating you, it was necessary to stop the Pi'illo people from being lost to time. But I wanted to at least come around to try again now that there's no... uh, tension I guess. Everything's solved so... I was hoping we could just talk? Or... something. I can go if you don't want company. I just wanted to offer. ,,

His cheeks were progressively reddening, mostly from nerves. The way he stumbled over his words matched just how badly his heart was racing. He was trying to be open with the other but with how everything ended, he wasn't expecting this to work. He just had to cross his fingers and hope that he'd be willing to hear him out for a moment.

Krupp has long been a veteran in the war against unauthorized toys on school grounds. From the impressive super-soakers to backpack keychains that got a little too cute, no delightful little plush or race-car was safe.

In fact kids had gotten so discreet, only the miniature toys (collectables, cereal box prizes, the like) usually made it past the main doors. But he had an eye for these things.

Anyway. A girl waltzed in with a doll the size of her arm, as frilly and gaudy and teeth-achingly sweet that he had to whip the creepy thing out of her hugging grasp before she got three feet into the hallway. Weeping and tears and pleading had done little to sway him, and now here he was, whistling to himself in his office as he opened the 'rest of school' drawer, and dangling the doll over it executioner-style.

he swipes at the harmless, inofensive boop, missing the flapping sleeve by a mile. Slimy's got a headache settling nice and hurtful between his beady eyes, and it seems to spike with every warbling sylable.

"You don't know me!"

Except he does. Only not so much. They've never met. But he's seen the reference sheets, the original roughs and notes from which he sprang. Looked at 'em more than he'd ever admit. Weasels may look the same but they come in batches.

Doesn't matter. Slimy ain't real.

That, and these guys are the talk of the town. Everybody who's anybody knows the Toon Patrol.

The guy's all movement, even his eyes won't halt. Slimy was meant to stay a static image. He smooths back his oily hair, hoping his disdain oozes from every pore. He smells like gasoline, cheap cologne, and fur. Not a good combo.

He points a finger, with a sneer that's all teeth.

The outburst had mostly been sarcastic, exclaimed when mentioning her own dragons to fight... A story of a woman clad in wolfskin able to slay any beast. That had been the story she wanted to tell, but...

Childhood had been stolen from her. Even now, trying to tell tales as brightly as she once had felt... Wrong.

And the little doll's glove on her finger feels like someone squeezing her heart, tears burning behind her eyes.

"How do you know that for sure?" The shifter hated how her voice cracked when she spoke then, body trembling on her bed. She hunched over, as if trying to make herself small again.

"How do you know things will be alright? I'm alone!"

Jumpin Juniper!

A quick leap up and spin around, fur on end-- Oh, it's a doll! Wide green eyes blink rapidly before the feline quickly straightens out, smoothing out her fur. Goodness gracious, at least she didn't get surprises like that in Shinbone Alley! To and fro goes her tail, a slight sign of agitation.

"Well, thank you, I suppose... but I shouldn't be here. I ain't much of an 'indoor cat'."

It took a while for the valley to even retain half it's old shine , but little progress is better than none . Yet despite those pesky nighthorns littering across the forest , residents like Tigger found comfort in what they had . Everyone reaches a breaking point , even people like her .

There's only so much she can handle before the stress begins to weigh on her shoulders , responsibility of keeping the path clear as well as prevent more junk from finding it's way in was difficult . True it's not ideal , but if he can find joy in the simple things then so can she .

Amazing that someone so small can hold so much energy , bouncing , rocking , even now as he bashfully wrings his tail she's reminded of the innocence rooted here . So what in a could thorns spawn , doesn't mean they can't be uprooted at a later point . Maybe that's all she needs... a break . A chance to unwind from the stress of 'work' .

Lips part in a noticeable smile , chortling as fingers grace the top of his head . Ruffling the soft velvet .