[ UNDER CONSTRUCTION ]

… H m m m m…

[ Avarice sits next to the bonsai tree. He poked at its flowers, giggling. ]

She looks down at her leg, biting her lip. “…yeah. That might put me out of commission for a while.”

She falls silent, perhaps contemplating her almost helpless state.

Sam allows the stranger to pick her up, but she’s tense. It might be the pain, but her fists are clenched into balls so tight the nails are starting to dig into her skin. “…I don’t get this.” In fact, the fact that both of them were hopelessly confused as to what exactly had brought her here comforted her a little. At least that pattern was becoming clear- so many things have happened to her that she doesn’t understand in just the last few days. The small tree on the ground waves in a nonexistent breeze. Sam glares at it. “…Nothing good ever comes from messing with them. And I was… at least trying to stay away, but-

“I didn’t do anything to any of the trees, but I was chased into one of them. I don’t know by what, but it was the first time I’ve ever felt afraid that the… whatever it is would actually hurt me. So I ran, and climbed the tree, and then one of the branches broke, and i was falling, and I couldn’t- all I could- just the teeth, and the eyes- and- bam. Suddenly I’m falling perpendicular to gravity, and I’m on your floor with a… sprained? Broken? foot.”

[ Avarice had laid Sam down, propping her foot up onto some cushions. He squatted next to her, listening closely to her story. ]

[ He pondered on this information. Attacked, she said? Teeth, and eyes? Something didn’t bode well, but Avarice kept it to himself. Instead, he responded thus: ]

W e l l... if you a s k ME, it sounds like this T R E E may have saved your L I F E ! I mean, i m a g i n e if it HADN’T thrust you into my LIVING R O O M ! Why, you’d probably b e someone’s LUNCH by n o w ! Lucky, how l u c k y you are, indeed!

[ Avarice walked over to wear the tree was, lifting up the small pot and inspecting it. ]

At l e a s t . . . I THINK you a r e ? You don’t think y o u were... FOLLOWED?

. . .

. . . n a a a h , now THAT’S silly, even for M E !

[ He’d walk back over to Sam, talking a little quieter. ]

[ Avarice looked at his computer, eyeing the rock picture closely. He applied all his analysis prowess, and typed out a response in kind: ]

Y E S ! It l o o k s WRINKLY and c r u m b e l y! That’s the c o m p a r i s o n, RIGHT?

[ He doesn’t bother to correct the stranger, as he assumes that A) his new nickname is now Slimeantha, and B) he knows about these Papyrus rocks. What an expert, he is. ]

NEW VOICE MESSAGE FROM @dinodots: “Huh?  ... I don’t think skeletons can get wrinkles, dude. (Can they? That’s kind of scary.)”

Hee h e e! I ‘ M so g l a d you two are friends TOO! 

. . . B r a a a n d e n ! That was your n a m e, RIGHT?

… H m m m m…

[ Avarice sits next to the bonsai tree. He poked at its flowers, giggling. ]

The tree is still there, content to simply be a tree, as opposed to an interdimentional conduit of awesome power. “…this whole- ugh.”

She’s not referring to the ball of yarn- Avarice? She just seems to be commenting on her situation as whole, whatever that is. And the prospect of being forced to contibute to a swear jar… that’s too strange to compute, so she decides to ignore it. 

“This- you- you’re the first- well, not really, there was that other guy, but he-” She takes a second to compose herself. “I’m Sam. Um… this is the first time I’ve seen any… any new place in over a year. I don’t really know what happened, you said the tree…? What tree- the tiny one- why…? Are we in the city? Where- your living room, but what about-” She’s making a habit of talking too fast to keep up with herself, and then running out of words and leaving questions unfinished.  “…you…why are you made of…whatever it is that you’re- …yarn man?”

She tries to get up again.

”Ow.” She looks to be about nineteen, but she could be older. Her earbuds have fallen out, but are no longer playing music. She’s wearing a ratty grey and blue windbreaker with a hole where the left pocket should be, and a garden spade in her right pocket. There’s also something retangular underneath her shirt that she’s holding in place with her arm. Her ankle is badly swollen and is turning a nasty shade of purple, like a poisonus fungus.

YARN m a n ? Heehee, now THAT’S a f i r s t !

[ He listened along to Sam’s string of questions, answers, and more questions. Unfortunately, it seemed she was just as confused of the situation as he was- as well, it seemed she was in worse condition than he’d assumed, noting her ankle- he knelt down, inspecting the damage closer. ]

[ He whistled, shaking his head. ]

That’s a n a s t y SHINER you have t h e r e ! Can’t IMAGINE you’re very c o m f o r t a b l e. I’d l o v e to answer your questions, SAM, but f i r s t . . . HOW about we get you off this f l o o r ? I have a COUCH with YOUR n a m e on it- FRESHLY f l u f f e d, and for NO c h a r g e !

And, w h i l e we make that TRIP, maybe we can figure O U T what’s h a p p e n e d ? Can ya t e l l me what you were DOING before you were SPIRITED a w a y , Sam? Anger any t r e e s , lately?

* STATUS UPDATE:

“Hey, dudes!! I made an UnderNet blog, haha.”

“… Nobody is gonna tell my parents, right?”

… H m m m m…

[ Avarice sits next to the bonsai tree. He poked at its flowers, giggling. ]

Sam sits up, and groans. She’s looking around, growing more and more concerned about the surroundings.

”…how on earth?”

Upon hearing Avarice, she tries to scramble upright, but she can’t put weight on her left leg. Her eyes are the color of bottles left in the ocean to grow clouded and distant. She’s dressed for mobility, in sweatpants and a sky blue tank top. She’s almost painfully pale from lack of a real sun.

”…Where am I? Who are you?”

Her voice is rough from disuse. She’s trying to camouflage her nervousness as to not seem vulnerable- but the truth is, she can’t do much of anything right now, especially when it comes to running away.

[ Avarice analyzed the stranger, still crouched next to the tree. At first, he thought to respond sarcastically, as he ought to do with strangers- but his smile focused onto Sam’s leg. Perhaps her outburst of “broken bones” wasn’t just an expletive? With one last pat onto the tree’s bloom, he stood up to speak. ]

... w e l l, I can’t a n s w e r for my potted FRIEND here, but I am what they c a l l... how you SAY... an A V A R I C E ! That’s the w h o! As for W H E R E . . . [ Avarice motioned around himself. Sam was laying in a spacious room, the off-white walls adorned with random photos of mundane objects. Couches had been pushed into the corners of the room, leaving only a small mat in the center, laid in front of a TV which was on top of a dark wooden coffee table. One side of the room had a closed door, with windows on either side, letting in the light of a blue sky that allowed Sam to see the man answering her question. ]

[ She would see a shorter fellow, dressed in what could only be described as “Sunday Clothes”. Khaki’s, loafers, a sweater vest... but atop it all was a black scrawl of scribbles, wound up like a ball of yarn, with only a wide, toothy grin on the face. The smile seemed to look her in the eye, before the man “spoke” again, addressing Sam with a wave of his hand. His “mouth” doesn’t even move... ]

YOU seem to have d r o p p e d in to my LIVING r o o m ! I was just a b o u t to watch my E X E R C I S E tape- when this l i t t l e tree REVEALED itself to ME!

[ The man spoke loudly, emphasizing words in an eccentric fashion. He almost seemed... excited? He turned, looking to the tree, then back to Sam. ]

... and t h e n there was a GREAT flash of L I G HT . . . and then YOU showed u p ! Let me s a y, you have QUITE the VOCABULARY! The s w e a r jar is in the k i t c h e n , I’ll show you to i t later- but for N O W... HOW are Y O U ?

… H m m m m…

[ Avarice sits next to the bonsai tree. He poked at its flowers, giggling. ]

Then the light shuts off, and a girl with blonde hair and a scream like a tornado siren is hurled away from the epicenter. The light is gone, but the tree remains. Profanity of many colors resounds from the sport where she landed, perhaps thirty feet away.

”MOTHER-FUCKING PEICE OF PHOTOSYNTHETIC BRAINLESS SHIT STAIN THAT YOU ARE, YOU COULDN’T COMPREHEND BROKEN BONES! WHY DON’T YOU GO AND…”

[ But, just as quickly as the light had appeared, it seemed to disappear, and his smile tracked the figure that was chucked from the space above the tree. The strangest fruit he'd ever seen a tree bear, was his first thought... but then, he started hearing them speak. ]

[ At first, there was confusion; then, a mix of shock and... awe? How brazen! How coarse! An incredible flurry of swears and insults he'd never heard before! ]

[ Then... he realized whom those words were targeting. He gasped loudly, and- his hands cupped around the tree's bloom. ]

Oh, G O S H ! Noooo, they d o n ' t mean THAT! Surely they're t a l k i n g of a DIFFERENT p h o t o-simph-a-ma-w h a t s i t!

… H m m m m…

[ Avarice sits next to the bonsai tree. He poked at its flowers, giggling. ]