I Was Born The Unloved Twin - 140 Honey Trap

My father, who I have not seen in awhile, stands with his typical poker face, expressionless and disinterested. As if he were not standing around wasting time, which he absolutely is.

His stare at me a far too focused, with as much intensity as he can get in neutral peaceful mode.

Right behind him, mother looks tired. She holds her face in her handkerchief, but her entire demeanor seems tired and partly given up. If anything, the toddler in her arms gives her enough love and distraction, once she recovers from her sudden headache.

“Father….I merely asked if you had ever been to the public baths. ” I dare to peep, voice small and echoing.

“Yes. Now I have. ” father agrees.

It’s his first time. Today. Right now.

“Darling…” mother starts, taking a deep breath, “when I said you could take the girls, that it would be wonderful to bond, this wasn’t what I meant.”

“I do not see my problem my Maria, my love. ” father hardly raises an eyebrow, his version of honestly surprised that mother isn’t swooning in his arms like she typically does.

“You bought out the whole place?!!” I scream, gesturing to the empty baths.

Yes, I am back. But this time not only am I thankfully entirely clothed but have gotten to supreme VIP privilege of getting the place entirely to myself. The largest public bath, completely emptied out as my private playground? How wonderful.

No! No it’s not! This is too much. This is just stupid! How and when did this happen?

“Never have I have I ever ‘buy the whole place out’ my dear silly Chip. It’s merely been cleaned and booked for the following five days. I suspect you will be bored by then, having moved on to a new fascination.” father offers back, his hand presenting to grand empty space.

The baths.

Completely devoid of life except myself, my family, a few servants, and my poor gaping assistant.

Georgie close your jaw. Georgie, stop drooling. Georgie no. Georgie!

I swear I am spoiling this boy. He’s acquiring too much a taste for the VIP things in life. Oh but who wouldn’t? I can’t blame him there. Everyone loves money and what you can buy with it.

Just how much did it cost to completely book out the resort town’s largest and most popular public bath for a week?

Too much. That’s all I need to know. What a waste of money. But that can’t be right, father never wastes money. Gambles maybe, but not waste. He doesn’t play games he loses.

“…Father. What are your intentions?” I turn up to him suspiciously.

But he looks down on me intently without a single word. In the fact, only sound may be mother judgemental hum, behind her exasperated and displeased expression.

Is this? Another scheme?!

Oh ho ho and I’m once again left in the dark. But knowing all that I do of this man, in any lifetime, I can easily infer that there is more to his actions than the obvious. There always is.

Go on, he said…

Father is testing me again. It must be another homework assignment!

“I understand now father… We shall renovate this place as patrons! Not only do we raise public perception, solidifying our position and power. But in such a large highly frequented place, but we can weave our influence and hide our purposes further into the building itself as well as in the people’s minds. Oh ho ho!” I look around, now finally seeing all this potential.

“….” father does not respond much.

After all, I have yet to show any results, any payoffs. But the relaxed expression, serene almost, as well as the expectation in his eyes is practically a sparkling go ahead!

“Hee hee bath? Bathy wit mama and papa!” Lily laughs, waving out her little arms.

“Don’t be ridiculous Lily, big sister has an important project to do. Assigned by father himself. I only have..a week!” I respond to my sister’s babyish improper perceptions, feeling increasingly overwhelmed with the stuff I have to do in order to fit the time limit.

Ah yes, the challenge of it all! A worthy and difficult test for the time father.

“…I blame you for this entirely, darling. ” mother taps her foot, bouncing and binding Lilyanne from tossing off her clothes and jumping into a ‘swimmy’ pool.

“…This isn’t how you said it would go my Maria. But I do not see an issue if it pleases the girls. ” father replies. However, when he reaches out a hand, he is firmly rejected.

Oh my. What is this? Is mother’s mood even worse than I thought?

“I had said, my beloved, …that you could go take them for the baths together….not buy the whole place out!” she yells.

It echoes quite a lot in here.

“The public bath is not bought, such a profitless low venture, but merely rented. As I had stated before. ” father reasons.

“What then, shall you be making of our limited time together? My oh so busy husband? ”

Mother is very grumpy lately.

It could be that she’s feeling stress over the extra work our family vineyards are this year, preparing for a harsh winter taking heed of the warning signs of famine. The grapes and olives in full ripening, all hands on deck for the last production and storage of our staple wine and olive oil.

It could be because designers and architects have been chasing us down despite moving to the resorts this fall. Asking about from flooring and installations on our home renovations to promoting weaves of wool stocks or specific sale strategies of spider silks. There are things to stock and things to liquidate, things to save, and things to finalize. All very much a headache.

It could be that time of the month!

A very valid concern for any woman, especially when those cramps hit.

That would make sense. The avoidance of the hot springs in the last two days, despite how much she liked soaking for relaxation. The increased naps, sending away all sorts of visitors either for business or leisure. The shameless use of Lilyanne or I as a living belly warmer.

Also, I think I caught her stress eating raw honeycomb straight from a harvest offering last night, just like some wild bear, and I don’t want to talk about it.

Of it could be that father has literally been running off on work and his own matters of business.

Busy time of year. Especially this year with all my contingency plans.

I also believe he’s also pulling some shady strings in court. What is he plotting now?

It’s nothing I can interfere with though, despite my confusion. I haven’t even seen my father these past few days, let alone find the time to ask or interrogate him.

I do not mean to imply anything disrespectfully scandalous…. But they have not, and I say this was absolute concern and certainty, have not spent the night in a very long time. Not if mother’s boo hoo-ing while glomping my sister and I into her bed means anything. Definitely not since we first night we got here and I had my fainting night in the still flooded dungeons.

I think she’s getting frustrated. In more than one manner.

It’s not my fault at all! In fact, I should be suing for the mental and emotional damage these parental units are imposing on me.

But a grumpy mother is very frightening indeed.

Father, please come back for good. Please finish up work afar and work from home instead. Take care of your scary wife. She’s being especially more frightening as of late. Please.

And so I accept this homework assignment with glee. Not only does it give me something productive to do, but it will get me away from my mother. Clingy, sticky, stress snacking and crying, mother.

The snacks are yummy though, I am very ok with that.

“Swimmies! Lily show everyone how good she swimmy nows. ” my sister still does not give up, wiggling in mother’s arms in excitement.

“Lily no, that will get in the way of my inspection! Lilyanne keep your clothes on!” I try ordering.

But when has my little sister ever truly listened to me? Oh, the headaches the future shall bring.

“Wit papa!” she cries, calling forth the nerd.

Already trying to get good looking men into her grasps. Oh my. Such a horrifying little girl. Her future still concerns me greatly.

Luckily this man is not only at least her father, but a very taken man.

“Lilyanne my love, my sweet, little duckie. Not even mama can do that. ” mother smiles a little too brightly, a grip turning viably tight and painful on my squeaking little sister.

“… It’s alright, I can take her. ” father offers, eyes suspiciously going back and forth between my sister and I.

I don’t trust that kind of scheming sparkling look. It’s the same kind when he sees a butter churner or stupid machines that spin. Call it a gut instinct but I suddenly don’t trust father taking us to the baths at all!

I feel as if only shameful trauma and blood awaits me.

“As I said, my little love ” mother insists with no small amount of resentment, squeezing Lilyanne as she squeals like a little rubber chicken, ” your papa is just soooooo busy. Not even mama can touch him! ”

I think I need to get out of here before her stress and frustrations lead to a crime. A crime that will eventually occur, and I would rather not be witness to. I should save the nerd while I still can.

“Father? What’s my budget? Father can I use some of your sculptors and architects? There’s plenty than enough to spare, they keep requesting audiences and bothering mother. Father do you have the reference contacts for the maintenance workers and plumbers of this place? Or should we ship people in from the troops? Should I call grampa? Are there any useful professionals still being held or processed in the outer dungeons? Georgie! Set the inquires out! Interview the current employees here for areas of concern and upgrades. Hurry father, let’s start a tour of the facilities at once before- EEeeeeep!”

Rubber chicken! I’m being squeezed like a rubber chicken! Mother’s gotten me from out of nowhere and is squeezing me to death!

What did I even do? Nothing?! Ahhhhh!!!

Life is very unfair and mother rules all. We are helpless against her strange whims.

“No no no my other equally tiny birdie, we mustn’t keep papa at all. ” she begins carrying off my sister and I like were two hunks of fruit bought at the market.

“…Maria?” father automatically loses the custody battle before it even started.

“He’s far too busy with even MORE work. Oh no don’t mind me, I’ll just be sitting pretty following up on all YOUR farm projects and everyone looking for YOU oh my daaaarling~.”

Mother is in a very very very bad mood.

“Ah, those ants managed through… I’ll have all those fools imprisoned and sent to backbreaking labor immediately. But yet…” father takes a closet look, inspecting his own wife with all the fascination a scientist reserve for new mutation in their studied species of bacteria.

“Flushed cheeks and lips but irregular complexation, steps slightly heavier despite no major weight fluctuations, seemingly irritable but irresistible, a sign or the hormones…. Maria, my love. Are you in the peak of ovulation again?”

And my father is dead. Oh so very dead.

“Rosalia~ Lilyanne~ My lovely little girls, say goodbye to papa now, then close your eyes~” mother smiles down on us lovingly.

“My condolences, father. ” I nod at doomed man,

“Bye bye papa~” Lilyanne smacks her hand to her lips to blow a goodbye kiss.

“Tis a tad earlier than I expected, but rest assured I shall care of your estate properly. ” I follow up, all before mother turns us around into the arms of her waiting maids.

I do not see a thing, but I do hear some very strange sounds.

It’s very similar to that of a great accident, such as the kind Lukas gets into when he breaks a series of things. Stone. Rock. An entire cave once. Perhaps comparable to a modern demolition project. There is certainly screaming and shouting, but it’s mainly coming from my Georgie.

“Ahhh~ Alrighty girls! Let’s get going back now and have a nice tea time. Oh yes, tea and snackies.” mother claps for our return into her possession. Nothing but smiles and a bit of sparkling marble dust.

My father is entirely missing from this scene. He either escaped to live another day or he is currently buried under the rubble. Both are fine so long I still get his money.

Blinking through the clouds of dust and wreckage, I’m proud to say that the renovations of the public baths have started marvelously.

Work hard everyone! We only have a week!

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Mother is in a slightly better mood today.

“How nice it is to not be bothered by so many audiences!” she remarks in an airheaded bliss.

While mother cannot properly sit in the hot springs to unwind, she can luxuriously splash around in a soothing foot bath by one of the shallow pools.

How scandalous, a lady’s naked feet. Outside uncovered of all things.

“Splish splash, splish splash gubble bubble bllrrrrbbrbrb,” goes my little sister, doggy paddling around the pool in her little pumpkin sized shorts,

She is, thankfully, not naked this time.

Work hard maids, protect your grumpy lady, and her dainty daughter’s modesty, and keep everyone out!

The maids scamper around doing all sorts of chores. From refilling mother’s tea, to taking her signed and unsigned paperwork back and forth, sorting them out for convenience’s sake. We are after all outside, enjoying the colorful turning of the trees, having tea and fresh seasonal snacks with our foot baths.

Though there is work to always do, not a single soul has come rudely knocking this afternoon, begging for a scheduled audience with the lady of the house. Thank goodness.

They really were very annoying, and seemingly never-ending. While some were understandably pitiful managing workers, lost without father’s guiding presence in the unexpected design and building errors,…. most were just so stupidly annoying!

Mother had such a headache hearing them all out if it was just in the scheduled late morning and afternoon hours.

It got bad enough even I had to step in. Me! The toddler!

Ok more like I just got too annoyed.

For quite a good portion of my afternoons, I’ve taken pity on my ill and already busy mother. It’s been all:

‘I’m very sorry your goat got eaten by your neighbor again Mr. farmer something but there’s nothing we can do about that? Please get a better gate, punch the goat thief, or resolve your neighborly disputes locally.’

‘No Mr. garden decor seller, we do not need more thingies. Yes yes yes we are quite sure. My father gifted mother a stupid crystal hanging bird once and it most likely costs more than all your wares. Talk to me maybe when you’re selling rare species of exotic herbs instead?’

‘I am sorry Mr. salt smuggler. That your finest wares were caught and confiscated at certain trade ports. Please smuggle things more carefully from now on in your illegal business, or go find a new job, and we will pretend you were never here. Will keep a note on the salt situation in the markets though, have a tip for your troubles. ‘

Some people can be redirected, left to a guard and escorted to a troop’s center where someone can better help them with their issues. It’s very sad and unorganized how people seek help in the wrong places.

But there’s just too much trash! Ugh gross.

I even had the guards throw a few people into the extra extra dungeons. Not simply for old time’s sake to relish my power, but we really have some suspicious extra annoying folks.

For one, anyone caught trying to sell shady makeup and ugly ‘fashion’ to my mother is to be thrown into the dungeons! Effective immediately! All dangerous items confiscated, for research purposes.

There was a lot of stranger and more concerning things. But who cares about that when beauty is on the line?!

Except maybe that one random deranged citizen that claimed he was cursed with an indescribable bloody hunger for goats, to the point of eating all his own raw and moving on to his neighbors . I was a little concerned about him.

Another redirection, to the troops. I hope they figure out what’s ailing him. If anything I think we helped with farmer stolen goat’s issues.

We really need a better system. Just because my family name is Ventrella, doesn’t mean we can solve all your problems.

But alas people still line up and go through the long tiresome process.

None today! We had absolutely no one today. So peaceful. Not even the crying worrying architects!

Though I’m pretty sure that’s because father took care of them.

What that actually means can be…not thought about. Yes, let’s not think about it.

Maybe he put them all the work on my public bath renovations? Oh ho ho! What good use and productivity! Yes yes yes that is spare hands and possible skilled labor. They only have so much time afterall.

I wish I was there to oversee the bath reconstructions. I could make it even more marvelous with some maybe modern touristy ideas,

But alas I am trapped here. Still very much stuck with the sticky mother. One who is still oddly mad at father for whatever reason it is this time. My Sherlock senses telling me it’s more than just about the work stress on either of their ends.

Lover spats. How annoying.

Especially when you know they’ll just makeup and be 100x as disgusting afterward.

But for now, the faster they get it over with, the fast I can play- ahem I mean work. A public renovation project on this scale is quite important you know. Especially for my first time. The research will also be useful in case I ever want to open a ridiculously high prices spa and resort for myself. Oh the money I could rip off, ahem, earn rightfully from spoiled nobles rolling in riches.

Thus I have also instructed Georgie, while I still could, to use that.

Yes, that.

The great secret. A secret suit I’ve been hiding for quite some time. A full, shall we say, modern men’s tailored suit.

Honestly, I’d like more time to work on it, to get all the parts and pieces right. But the times call for it to be used.

Without words, Georgie completely understood. The secret outfit. The irresistible to all women outfit.

With that, there’s no way mother will be able to control herself, let alone remember the reason why she was mad in the first place. Perhaps, after she attacks and mauls father to death, they’ll be able to talk it out and properly communicate in a healthy way. But first, this!

Now I just need to wait for Georgie to follow through.

For today though, it isn’t so bad. Nice and peaceful. Sure the weather is a bit chilly for a picnic, let alone a dip and swim, but that’s what the hot springs and hot rocks are for.

“And flip!” I instruct two of the maids.

We’re making pancakes using the heat of nature! Cleaned properly of course. It’s a little slower of a process but it’s quite novel and fun. Especially if one tries to slow steam bake them up to some super fluffy levels.

After the first pancake makes their perfect flip, a round of applause follows, including mother’s.

“Oh how lovely!” mother claps.

“Cake cake cake cake cake” Lilyanne paddles about, already well trained in waiting for my signal before snack time. Otherwise, she might not get any at all, or so I have taught. Often by eating all my snacks in front of her.

You must train children early on.

For mother though? Well it’s a little late for that.

“Mother, no more sneaking whole honeycombs. It’s too much sweetness in one bite! And the honey bees need to store up for winter, or they won’t survive. You’ll eat hives of them to extinction” I scold her about her bad angry eating habits.

It’s understandable for women to crave something sweet, especially during this time. However, I really didn’t see wrong with the delivery of whole honeycombs.

It doesn’t matter if it comes with a pretty ribbon or gilded in gold even. If father sent it at this time, mother will angrily just down it all as if to prove a point.

It can’t be helped if it’s already been harvested but really now, we can’t take the risk of overharvesting the honey crops or farmers. I’d rather we live with less sweetness, making it last, than to come back next spring to a sharp decline in the local honey bee population.

I must make a mental note to send a financial precaution aid and incentive to all farmers that raise honey hives this season. More preventative measures is better, and cheapter, than dealing with the fall out after windter.

Yes, I shall be a patron of all the deliciously sweet honey as well. I will save you my honey!

“Ah, mama is sorry Rosa. Alright alright don’t be angry.” mother coos and somewhat guilty laughs at being caught.

“If you want sweets, we can make stuff like pancakes or custards and spread it out. It’s much healthier for you and you can eat more of it.” I wave around the mixing spoon, mildly sweet red bean jam flinging out just a bit.

Whoops, my bad.

“Yes my dear, mam understand. Mama will listen to Rosa~” she wipes jam and batter from off my face with a dip of the hot spring water.

Huh, when did that get on me? Ah, these childish limbs and their clumsiness.

“Really? Will you really listen?” I pout at mother, recalling all the times that can prove otherwise.

“Of course darling!”

She’s only saying so because I am absolutely adorable in my little frilly apron. We’re making sweets outside today so I must be prepared. Being cute is just an extra bonus.

Since my hair is back to being short, there’s not much need for a headband, or head covering, but we’re cooking today. My pixie cute is getting cuter by day, as I look less and less bald.

I think this is a very strange and switched up ‘cooking mama’ dress-up look. When I’m the child doing the cooking while my mother sits right there enjoying my struggle. But it really can’t be helped with parents like this.

“Mother? You’re allowed to be mad, everyone does, but you can’t pout and ignore father like that. It isn’t like you and you’re making yourself sadder.” I point my spoon of truth.

Mother seems to deflate, and when she does one of the pancakes pops and wilts down with her sign.

Oi oi oi watch it mother, not the pancakes! Oh, it is more serious than I thought.

“He’s not a mind reader! Even if he knows you’re upset, he can’t do anything if you don’t see or talk back. Discuss your fighting and disagreements like good adults! You’re both too gross to mope around. Also, presents don’t fix anything but honey is a lot better than a bouquet of vegetables, right?” I wack around, trying and failing to save the pancakes.

“Your papa is a meanie pretty face of mean. ” mother pouts pettily, kicking the water.

What a nice way of describing the man she married. I would certainly use harsher language choices but other is simply too weak around him, bleck. In fact, she’s grows mopier and mopier in thought at the mention of him.

No good! My fluffy! Oh no my fluffy honey cakes. They pop one by one like a row of sad souffles, limp and soggy instead of the jiggly goodness they’re supposed to be. How?! How did this happen?!

Oh woe is me.

Good thing there’s enough batter to try again.

“….I suppose…trying is all I can do. Even if I’m too clumsy.” mother mopes, staring a little too intensely at her blurry reflection.

“Love pancake. ” Lilyanne partly hops out the water. It surprises mother, with her clinging on to mother’s leg, staining her rolled up skirts with the alkaline water.

“Yes yes yes. Very good Lilyanne. But not just yet. Watch.” I wave my sister, off giving her the halt and stay signal.

The original first batch of pancakes are nt exactly ruined but not what epescted. It is with great shame then that not only do we have to try again, after all this time, but we need to do something about these not so fluffy ones.

I wack a pancake. Changing to an even bigger and flatter spoon, and wack them around. Feeling them jiggle and flatten further all that once.

“Flip. Flip and flatten.” I instruct the maids on hot rock grilling duty, showing them the kiddy game version of what they’re supposed to do.

“Pancakes! Smells so good Rosa!” Lillyanne cries and drools, even as mother picks her up and dries her off.

“Yep yep, that’s right Lily. Even if they didn’t turn out the way I first planned, they’re still super yummy pancakes. Now look some more, we’re going to make them into something new!” I showcase to my little sister, teaching her valuable early lessons.

Checking as the sides are browned, and whole thing stable, I have the maids slide out the done ones. Then get to work on construction.

They’re not very big things, since I aimed for fluffy height rather than width or surface area. Smacking them flattened them out somewhat but they’re still a very good and workable size. But a size for what?

For dorayaki of course!

Heehee when life gives you popped pancakes, make dorayaki. Fresh warm pancake sandwiches!

I was also maybe expecting this, give that I have already made these imitation red bead paste. The smell is a little off, but good enough!

This one gets to be a classic red bean stuffed pancake, with just a bit of extra butter.

This one gets whole strawberries and red bean, how pretty when sliced in half.

This one gets honey whipped custard cream.

Oh oh oh, this one can be chestnut filled. How fitting for the season.

Even though they’re a little messed up, we have made some wonderfully delicious things out of them. They would taste good alone but why not put in a little bit more creativity and effort to make them extra tasty?

“Pancake. Now.” Lilyanne scrunches her nose at me from inside mother’s hold.

“….”

How rude.

I sigh and make the stay motion. Slowly presenting my finished dishes even though no one appreciates how hard I worked to make them such a nice and pretty variety.

Hot tea and perfectly not too sweet autumn snacks in this scenery can be enjoyed by just me then.

“Wait, stay.” I further instruct Lilyanne, who seems to be vibrating in place. Her eyes wide open, zoomed in on hyperfocus to the plate.

Carefully taking a classic extra buttery one, I pull and split it in half, blowing at the fragrant steam that wafts out like a bomb.

“Here!” I hand to her, my little sister gleefully grabbing and munching down on the fresh pancake snack.

Mother stays oddly quiet the whole time, a little just as focused even if her eyes are a bit zoned out. As if thinking of something far away.

Ah what an airheaded mother, can’t be helped.

“Here mama.” I rip my half once more till they’re nothing but quarters, handing her the other piece.

I want to try all my fun dorayaki flavors and the next batch of hopefully successfully fluffy cakes. I just don’t want to get full too fast. That’s all. Small bites are best.

Sitting down under on the warm funny rocks, under the pretty colored trees, blowing on tea and yummy snacks. Ahhh this is the life.

“Delicious. It’s strange…warm and delicious. ” mother nibbles lightly, all before throwing the entire thing into her mouth.

“Right! Mother try this one next,” I excitedly point to the next one I want to eat.

She picks up bites right into my strawberry one, whole. Both Lilyanne and I cry out, feeling the same heartache.

Wait, no that’s not fair. Mother, you have to share! Mother!?

“Sweet. It’s sour and sweet, and also juicy? This one is also strangely red and delicious. ” mother sniffs, getting emotional. Just enough to lower her hand for Lilyanne to jump and chomp.

Whole.

“Mmmmmm soooo yummy” Lilyyane puffs out hot air, her little cheeks stuffed.

“Nooooooo my strawberry!” I feel myself wailing, blown away and crumpled like a dying red leaf.

“This one is honey-sweet, so light. Not too much or too sweet, just right. So lovely.” mother keep sniffing and stuffing her tearfully blinking face with another one.

I think I lost her. I lost all my dorayaki pancake knock offs. My culinary genius is once again too much for this world. Not only that but I have broken mother to tears with it.

Why oh why can’t I ever have anything right?

“Here now. ” mother rips the last one, smiling sadly as she finally remembers her daughters enough to offer bites.

Bites of MY hard work.

Okay and the maids too. Thank you, Noemi and Vedette. Your aid is still very important, keep watching and flipping those pancakes. Failed ones may continue to be smacked and turned into sandwiches.

Wait, why are they all deflating!?!

Why!? My fluffies! Nooooooo! I didn’t mean for them all the fail?!

“It’s okay Rosalia, mama understands now. Oh ho….to think I need to be taught in such a manner by my own cute little daughters. ” mother says in a way that sounds like she misunderstood something profoundly again.

“Love pancakes!” Lilyanne cheers, cream and sweet paste sticking to her face.

“Yes my little ducking, love is a lot like pancakes. ” mother nods back.

I don’t understand what she has now understood and I don’t want to know. I have more important things right at this moment.

Like figuring out this pancake mix? Are we just going to have all dorayaki?! What about my other plans? Where’s Georgie on the status of my plan to get mother and father to make up already and stop keeping me from my renovation projects.

So many things, so many little time, and so many failures.

I’ll just go cry into another fresh stuffed pancake or something. Comfort me my sweets.

“Rosa I got- Ahem. Pardon me, my lady, this servant is bringing in further supplies and requests from young Miss Rosalia. ” Georgie bows right outside the natural screen, getting permission to enter with propriety and professionalism.

Indeed he does roll in a cart with more pancake and dorayaki supplies, but I don’t understand his wink and smile. The giddy thumbs up as if he completed my instructions perfectly, setting off the plan.

The suit.

Is father getting changed? Is he already outside waiting to whoo mother off her feet? Feet that are still scandalously naked and dipped in this spring.

Shouldn’t we all evacatate to give them their privacy?! I don’t want to stick around for that.

“My lady. ” Georgie presents, rolling over the cart and offering….a jar.

A very big honey jar.

Oh come on! Father, we tried this yesterday with diabetic failure! What?! Not to mention we need to stop wasting all the darn honey.

But Georgie still shakes in something that resembles mania behind his professionalism, bowed and presenting the heavy glazed jar.

“It’s not perfect…and definitely not what I intended…..but I suppose. ” mother softens, blushing away shyly for a bit.

Huh? I guess she’s in a much better mood today afterall. Maybe my plan isn’t even needed?

But Georgie smiles once again, a little too wide, his excited glances at me showing something very very wrong.

I just feel it.

“Georgie, why are you shaking the jar so much. Georgie put it away, we don’t need that much honey. ” I order slowly, observing every little clue. Trying to decipher my little assistant’s unspoken messages.

“Shaking? Oh no. Ohhhh but my young lady, I only did juuuust as you instructed. I insist.” Georgie oversteps in…everything. Smile really too wide, so much so he bites his lip to hardly contain himself.

“How odd? Whatever is it now? ” mother asks curiously.

Giving in way to quickly, despite my bad feeling, mother reaches over the lift the lid.

Only to drop ii directly onto a rock and into the springs with a terrifying crack. The air goes cold instantly, mother frozen as if winter has come shockingly early.

“….” she stares inside the dark jar ominously, doing absolutely nothing for my terrible anxiety.

One thing’s for sure, I don’t think that’s honey in there.

The jar cracks, mother’s gone white fingers somehow cracking right through the rim! Ahhhhh!!!! What the hell?!

“Sorry?! …I’m sowry?” whimpers a soft and shakey little voice. One that automatically gets +300 cuteness points in mother’s books in how pathetic it sounds.

There is no kyaaing, no screaming, and no death. For I think mother has gone brain dead from the frozen wide eyed expression on her face.

Braindead or purely insane, acting on instinct.

With uncalled for force, as if it wasn’t hard at all, she rips the earthen jar in half just as easily as it were a soft fluffy pancake.

Amar yelps, crying from inside the broken ceramic and pieces blown away all around him. His fearful shivering and big fat cute tears fully in view.

Made all the more devastating by what he’s wearing.

“Cute mr bear!” Lilyanne points.

From the round little ears, to the fluffy bunches of oversized sleeves and pant legs, even the round shaking little tail attached to the back of the onesie. Everything is amplified in extreme cuteness, so much so it’s officially broken mother if she wasn’t already. A tiny soft brown baby bear, or well a kiddy dressed up as one. An all in one little hooded bear onesie.

God damn it Georgie! This was not the suit in progress I was referring to!

“….Please don’t eat me?” he whimpers quietly, pleading.

The knock off cartoon cutie bear, with a little white tummy to his warm honey brown onesie, holds his bunched up paws together. With his bear-themed motions, he makes as if praying, begs even, trembling himself adorably silly in mother’s lap.

When he shakes that hard, the little fuzzy ears and tail do too.

For a long time it feels as if nothing happens. Only this long tense staring, all focused on one too cute point.

I smell burning. I think the pancakes are overdone.

“KKKYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH HOW ARE YOU SO ADORABLE?!?!!? HOW IS IT POSSIBLE!?!! KYAAA KYAA KYAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!~” mother finally scream and storms, standing right up with the sacraficed child held high. She bounces and dances with the edges of her dress wet, barefoot through the gardens parklands.

“Bear bear bear big bruder mr bear Lily want to play too!” Lilyanne chases after them, mother too busy frolicking in bliss to hear.

I am still too much in shock, from the ridiculousness of this mistake and my own overwhelming genius. Knock off Kigurumi is too just, just too cute. The draft version is very much a success. Too much so.

As I regain enough sense to cough at the burning scent, I see not only a shit grinning Georgia, looking as if he’s been K.O. punched in the face with cute, but that all the not so secret guard maids have been wiped out in some way.

There are bloody handkerchiefs everywhere. Someone has fainted, blue in the face from the lack of screaming. Another person drowning, somehow fallen in the spring and they seem to not even care. Even the pancakes are dead. Absolutely ruined. Burned to a sad black crisp.

This is why the power of knock off Kigurumi was not supposed to be seen. Not supposed to be released into the world.

Oh god Georgie, what have you done?

“I know they weren’t fully finished but we managed. I got Cass to help, and she’s not so bad when she’s not screaming murder trying to escape Alfonso, and oh my god we did it. We got them done. ” Georgie dazedly coos in bliss, limp in the limbs with sparkling eyes.

A clear sign of overdose, in cuteness.

“Wait. Them?!” I feel my brain turning, beginning to work again despite the shock that is everyone’s baffling reactions.

Georgie smiles down at me, his sanity clearly gone.

I look over at the spinning frolicking monster that is my mother, brought back to life and then some. A cute little towel called my sister desperately hopping after her.

In the middle of that disaster, a too simple but too cute bear clad Amar definitely still has tears in his eyes. But in them is something more, the tragic green of betrayal. He looks over to Georgie as if begging for his life. As if asking ‘why?’.

But more importantly, he looks to me with a cry. Knowing that I can’t save him, not against that.

“Run. ” he mouths, before getting spun and snuggled to death in the hug that is my mother. Only and little fluffy tail, left of him.

“Run?” I gulp, not daring to make any sudden movements.

Georgie pounces and I set off screaming for my own life.

“Catch the young miss! Our lives and promotions depend on it!” Georgie orders out.

No no nooooooooooo! Bad Georgie! I have spoiled you! Noooooooo!

I wish I could say I put up a good fight. A real chase. But mother’s maids are strangely fast, strong and eerily motivated. The glints in their frightening eyes, the blood that remains dripped from their beings.

Waaah! Nooooo! Don’t eat me! Take the pancakes! They’re tastier!

“You’re filthy my young miss. Oh my, we must get you changed at once.” Georgie comes up to me as if possessed, an even smaller and fuzzier bear onsie in his hands.

Oh the horror. Oh that one doesn’t even have proper feet holes. It’s a completely covered and emroidered baby onesie! Oh no! Anything but that!

“I-it’s done! I-it’s d-done!” Abbey comes running into the scene, out of breath.

“Abbey!” I cry for rescue.

But it’s to no avail. Georgie has her completely under his control. Curses! Teenagers!

“Good job, ” he praises her, then indicates to help him pin me down and dress me up.

No! My freedom! My feet! Nooooooooo!

I swear this wouldn’t happen if father was around, or if he didn’t make mother mad in the first place. Usually, it’s grampa’s fault, but today I blame father! You horrible nerd. Get over work already and come save your family!

Mother might really be stolen, or well, steal away someone else at this point. Child abduction is bad.

Oh when or when will this surreal torture end?!

A wall goes crashing.

“I heard screaming! So much screaming! Well never fear, because Lukas is here!!!” screams out the tiny ‘hero’.

Clad in the vanilla polar bear version of a kiddy onesies. Only with pink strawbery ears, and just as round and chubby. Just the same as the rest of us beary not ok victims.

I must say Georgie and Cass did a pretty good job of getting my top-secret draft designs to this state. But like this, I can’t appreciate a thing. No matter how heart shockingly cute it is.

“KYYYYAAAAAAA! oH OH OH ~” Mother has lost the cognitive function to speak proper words. Rushing up with sparkly eyes and a dizzy and dying original brown bear in her arms.

“Stop! That’s mine!” Lukas points and attempts to stick out his chest in a brave manner.

In that suit though, it just makes his white fuzzy tummy look all the rounder and squishier. Tee buttons do not help.

“Too cuuuuuuute!” Mother attacks.

“Put him down, that’s my fluffy. ” Lukas sacrifices himself in the strangest way, bent on saving Amar.

“Ohhhh? Is he now?!” mother plays along, all hearts and flowers floating everywhere.

After snuggling Lukas in a death grip, she gently places them both down. Giving a dizzy Amar straight into Lukas’ impatiently waiting arms.

“Kyaaaaaa!” mother near passes out at the sight.

One cute little bear holding the other one like a life sized doll. Too precious for words, no wonder mother has lost all cognitive functions.

“And that one too! Gimmie.” Lukas stomps his way over, his little tail wagging in determined cuteness.

I’m sure there are even more bloodshed and death going on behind me. But I’m too much in shock at getting handed straight over.

Somehow Lukas now has not one but two kids in his arms. An awkward balance, but the tiniest polar bear throws us over his shoulders and I even feel a pat on my poor butt.

I’d scream, but I think I’m screamed out.

“Is it over? Can we go now?” Amar whimpers, his hood and ears drooping down sadly. The flush on his cheeks, even thrown over Lukas shoulder, causing even more collateral damage among any witnesses.

“So cute. Too deadly. What have I done?” I cry over each of Lukas’s stubby steps, bouncing Amar and I up and down as he walks.

“I’m saving everyone! You’re my floofies and that’s it. Of course, my floofies are cute! Super duper uber cute.” Lukas tries his very best to run off with us and our dead weights, despite all the awwing that follows.

Why do I even bother planning anything? Nothing ever goes right. And now too many people will be dead, of cute and bear-shaped onesies.

Whatever will become of me and this life? It’s already too…messed up.

Well…there’s nothing really to do but to see how it goes. Hope it’s a good one. At least we’re cute.

“Cheep!”

Lukas halts, jumping and shaking us in a way that starts to get me motion sick. Over his shoulder, Amar and I wiggle uselessly, making panicked eye contact in our new escape plan.

“Cheep!” comes the strange sound again, oddly familiar and high pitched.

“No. No no nooooo!” Lukas backs away not so gently, knocking us potato sacks of bears together messily.

“Cheep cheep Lily play too!”

“Ahhhhhh b-bbbad chicken! Bad bad stinky! Bad stinky chicken!” Lukas starts booking it, and I feel myself almost fly off in not for Amar grabbing my side from where he lays and Lukas still holding us by our butts and little tails.

“Cheep cheep Lily get you! Hee hee wheeee! ” my sister follows after, flapping the cape to her little yellow chick costume.

Hey, when did they get her into that? Why does it suit her oddly well? Oh god did Lilyanne get faster? Why does she resemble a darn raptor chicken so much like that?!

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH”

At this rate, I don’t even know who’s screaming anymore. Maybe all of us. Yeah, let’s just go with that.

From the sideline, mother swoons, watching us with her maids all fanning themselves and cleaning up any strangely occurring blood splatter.

“Darling is right, children are truly a handful….but they’re just so cute!!! ” mother giggles, waving to our horror chase in her happy airheaded way while munching on my pancake sandwiches.

I certainly am. A handful and very cute.

At least mother is in a better mood. Father better thank me greatly, in funds, later.

Now then. Someone get me off this ride! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH! Stop! Stop this at once! Lilyanne no! Ahhhhhhhhhhh!!!