badda bing badda boom (man we do a lot of threads)

[boogerman]

Pitch is nuts. Both Dreemurrs must know this by now. Sometimes he pops in without so much as a Chatsy warning dragging in strange gifts, mostly in the last year or so. Look at him, feeling comfortable at last after four good years of friendship.

So, when he pops out in the middle of their kitchen (oozing out of a cabinet a six-foot man can't fit in without violating the laws of physics) with a humongous box of stolen fireworks, that's normal, see.

It's the Fourth of July. You two live in America. Time to blow up your yard!!

Comments

[dustless]

"Fireworks!" Frisk immediately cheers, not at all startled by his sudden appearance.

Toriel is somewhat, turning quickly from the 'dogs (and 'cats) she's preparing for the grill. (Yeah, she's got fire magic to cook stuff, but Frisk insisted.)



"...Fireworks," she acknowledges. "Taken from where, might I ask?"

[boogerman]

The hot dogs are actually cattails. Go figure. If he were American he might care. Really, he just wants to blow up nature.

"Somewhere not in this timezone." Relax, goatmom. "No one's going to blame you. Trust me." He plunks the box down in the middle of the floor, still grinning like a loon.

[dustless]

She sighs. "It is still thievery..." Really, she could have bought some herself if she so wanted.

Frisk skips forward. "Thanks! Undyne an' Alphys wanted to give us some, but the ones they made were too...big." As in they're now banned from their favorite beach for the rest of the summer. Nobody was injured, fortunately.

Toriel motions for them to grab a plate to take outside.

[boogerman]

Handwave. Literally, a handwave. He doesn't care. "As if I could buy anything. Well, only from monsterkind." Sympathy for the differently-visible!

"...How big is too big?" Suspicious sudden interest. There are a few holiday places he'd also enjoy blowing up.

[dustless]

Frisk's swiped plates of stuff already, balancing one on both hands. "Toooooo big. There's probably gonna be a video on youtube later!"

Toriel pads forward and lifts the box, inspecting the contents. It would be for the best to know what is there first to avoid accidents.

[boogerman]

Nothing that wouldn't be sold in the average fireworks stand. All safe as long as no one stands next to them or shoves them in their pants. It's several hundred dollar worth, though. Fireworks are ridiculously expensive these days.

He leans against the counter, watching. "You know, I don't think I've seen those eaten like hot dogs before."

[non_egressive]

"Nor have I," Toriel admits easily. "And yet Frisk swears by it. It will be an interesting experiment!"

...She supposes the fireworks are fine. For today. She hefts the box with one hand and grabs a great bottle of soda with the other before following in Frisk's footsteps.

[boogerman]

And he shortcuts his way out to pop up in front of Frisk. What? It's endlessly amusing. Practically tradition.

"Boo." Flicker, and he's gone again, sitting in the grass nearby. "You really don't blow up fireworks for the holiday?"

[dustless]

They nearly drop the plates. Nearly. Good reflexes, and they put them next to the grill carefully before going to drop next to him.

"Not us. We go watch the firework shows, but those aren't til later." It's night, but there's still a little color on the horizon from sunset.

Once outside, Toriel slices open the fireworks with a claw. "Preferences?" she asks them both, humor in her eyes.

[boogerman]

Preferences?? He waves a hand again, eyes glinting yellow in the last of the light. "I don't care. Whatever you don't set off, I'll put to good use later."

Which means they'll be exploding at the North Pole in December, of course. Lots of shadows there he can enter from. Ha.

[dustless]

"Purple!" Frisk answers immediately.



"...As long as you are responsible and no-one is harmed for it." She is guessing he will use it to frighten people.

Purple fireworks are selected. Toriel places them in the driveway, retreats several steps, and sends a blast of fire at it.

[boogerman]

"Who's mother are you?" he mutters, definitely amused. What else would he do with fireworks, honestly? The color doesn't matter much. As always, it's difficult to look directly at. Who cares. This is the way he's always been--and the company beats the lightshow.

[dustless]

Frisk leans over to whisper "Everybody's. She's the mom friend."

"Pardon, Frisk?"

"Nothing!"

'Dogs being cooked on a grill smell pretty weird, as it turns out. Maybe being cooked with fire magic's the key?

[boogerman]

Weird indeed. Here's hoping the idiot kid doesn't make themselves sick because the dogs taste horrid. "Not mine, I hope. She knows my age." Still whispering. Isn't it funny, kid?

[dustless]

"Mom friend. Doesn't matter how old you really are."

Toriel is behind them now. "Care to share?" she asks in her best Teacher Voice.

[boogerman]

Chuckling from the Boogeyman, who twists around to look her in the eye. She doesn't seem so intimidating at the moment--he's seen her moreso. "Must I? It loses something if I explain."



s o m e t h i n g i s c o m i n g

[dustless]

She is grinning. "Come now, Pitch! Is it a horrid joke?"

Frisk shakes their head, but they don't answer her. They don't even look back at her at all.

Their fingers dig into their knees. They feel...weird all of a sudden, staring at their picket fence. There's flowery vines growing all up it. Asgore planted them. They're...pretty.

Frisk's a little worried. Mostly confused. This is familiar, but not enough.

[boogerman]

"Of course it's horrid. The horror never stops, you know who I am." Time to bring out the secret weapon?

"Some people are far too old to be treated like a kid by a goat." Ha.

[dustless]

That is a joke she has heard, and a bad one besides.

This does not matter.



"Pitch!" She is definitely laughing. "No-one is too old to be schooled by a teacher!"

Frisk rolls to their feet, padding over to the fireworks. Picking out another color, mostly, and...listening.






(Nature loses, Nature reclaims, but it takes Time. They're linked to each other.)

[boogerman]

"You win." He's grinning for the billionth time, what nasty teeth. He's not very good at this... wait. "I have no school spirit."

Frisk's concern prickles at the edge of his awareness... hmmm.

[dustless]

They pick green, heading to the driveway, and stop. The leaves are rustling...

"Ahaha--giving up the ghost at the prowess of my jokes?" Tori winks. "You truly must try harder." Can you imagine he giving out punning lessons, Pitch?

[boogerman]

It's a lot like seeing someone wave out of the corner of his eye. Metaphorically. Waving over and over--notice me, I'm nervous!

"Oh, shut up. Don't be so monstrous." That one he may have said before, hell if he remembers. He's watching Frisk, distracted.






One mile away and closing.

[dustless]

They toss it a fair distance away, distractedly waving to Toriel to light it.

"My child," she says reproachfully.

Frisk skips across the yard--to the picket fence, incidentally--and says "Please set that one off." Good to be polite, right?

Pale flame arcs. The firework booms and shows off its pretty colors. Frisk can barely look at it. They're staring out over the fence, at the road instead.

"...Did...we forget something?" they ask uncertainly.

[boogerman]

Damn. His other secret pun weapon, ignored. It doesn't matter. Frisk is being uneasy about something so vague he can't pick it up.

"The... food?" Sniff. Is it burning? Well, all he smells is the smoke from the fireworks. He's not a dog. "Nothing else to forget?"

[dustless]

They stand on their tiptoes, as if they'll see something better that way...but nothing. Just the street, mostly empty. Other monsters are gathering elsewhere, like at the bigger fireworks show near the park later.

"I do not believe so, Frisk." Toriel isn't smiling so much now--they didn't mean to disrupt things.

So they shrug and return, dropping onto the grass between the two of them, lightly leaning against Pitch. (Some instinct saying protect him, deep down.) They don't say another word.