Fanfic - Orange
Sunday, July 7th, 2013 08:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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mindcracklove(Dedicated to Celeste, as something she said gave me the idea that eventually became this fic.)
Summary: Something is wrong with Millbee, and only MC can figure out what. Oneshot.
To MC, it was a bustling metropolis, with tall structures scraping the sky and looming down over the well-kept roads below. Villagers roamed the streets, nodding to each other in passing as they went along their merry way.
To everyone else, it was in shambles - once a gorgeous city, Woolopolis' walls now held gaping holes in each side. It was no longer occupied, save for the mobs that waited in the shade cast by the abandoned architecture, though they ignored the man and his friend as they strolled through the town.
MC looked to the sheep at his side, studying the remains of the city with a well-trained eye. "Maybe a library next? We've got all those extra books..."
"Baaaaah."
"Alright! Alright! A restaurant then. So picky, Millbee."
It might've once been a normal sheep, but now its wool was sloppily stained with the colors of the rainbow. Each shade blended awkwardly into the next, and brown dye was smeared in strange spots where white had attempted to stick through. The wool was overgrown, curling out in strange spots and generally getting into the poor sheep's way.
The sheep looked miserable.
Overall, though, MC was happy.
"C'mon, buddy! Cheer up. I haven't seen you smile in... in a while."
He stopped in his tracks.
"Forget the restaurant; we're going to brighten your mood today instead!"
He grabbed his friend tightly around the waist and dragged him off, the sheep crying loudly in protest as they went.
-----
Pakratt scanned the city from afar, looking carefully for his friend. He could see them next to the destroyed storeroom - MC sat there, his arms wrapped around the sheep. He combed through its wool, using a pair of shears to occasionally remove a stray lock that was knotted too badly to be fixed. A pile of dyed wool sat next to MC, and the sheep was now a conglomerate of rainbow colors and dirtied white.
It baaed in discomfort.
"Smile, Millbee, smile! Don'tcha wanna look nice?"
It shook its head and squirmed in attempt to free himself from the man's grip.
He frowned. "You need to cheer up, Milbs. Seeing you without a smile is kinda sad."
"Baaaaa."
"MC?" Pak approached them quietly and carefully. "We've been wondering where you were. It's been over a week..."
MC looked up at him and Pak could see that he had a faraway look in his eyes, like whatever he was seeing wasn't really there. "I've been trying to cheer up Millbee, Pak."
He quietly looked to the sheep. "He hasn't been happy at all recently. What's wrong with him? H-he hasn't smiled or laughed or joked or - or - or..."
The man in the orange suit started shaking, and it took Pak a moment to realize that he was crying. He carefully put one arm around his friend.
"I just miss Millbee so much, Pak! I really miss him!" MC sobbed into his shoulder.
“We all miss him, MC. You don’t need to feel alone.”
“Thanks, Pakratt. ...Thanks.”
And there sat Pak, comforting his friend as the sun slowly set on Woolopolis.
(Total wordcount: 520)
Summary: Something is wrong with Millbee, and only MC can figure out what. Oneshot.
To MC, it was a bustling metropolis, with tall structures scraping the sky and looming down over the well-kept roads below. Villagers roamed the streets, nodding to each other in passing as they went along their merry way.
To everyone else, it was in shambles - once a gorgeous city, Woolopolis' walls now held gaping holes in each side. It was no longer occupied, save for the mobs that waited in the shade cast by the abandoned architecture, though they ignored the man and his friend as they strolled through the town.
MC looked to the sheep at his side, studying the remains of the city with a well-trained eye. "Maybe a library next? We've got all those extra books..."
"Baaaaah."
"Alright! Alright! A restaurant then. So picky, Millbee."
It might've once been a normal sheep, but now its wool was sloppily stained with the colors of the rainbow. Each shade blended awkwardly into the next, and brown dye was smeared in strange spots where white had attempted to stick through. The wool was overgrown, curling out in strange spots and generally getting into the poor sheep's way.
The sheep looked miserable.
Overall, though, MC was happy.
"C'mon, buddy! Cheer up. I haven't seen you smile in... in a while."
He stopped in his tracks.
"Forget the restaurant; we're going to brighten your mood today instead!"
He grabbed his friend tightly around the waist and dragged him off, the sheep crying loudly in protest as they went.
-----
Pakratt scanned the city from afar, looking carefully for his friend. He could see them next to the destroyed storeroom - MC sat there, his arms wrapped around the sheep. He combed through its wool, using a pair of shears to occasionally remove a stray lock that was knotted too badly to be fixed. A pile of dyed wool sat next to MC, and the sheep was now a conglomerate of rainbow colors and dirtied white.
It baaed in discomfort.
"Smile, Millbee, smile! Don'tcha wanna look nice?"
It shook its head and squirmed in attempt to free himself from the man's grip.
He frowned. "You need to cheer up, Milbs. Seeing you without a smile is kinda sad."
"Baaaaa."
"MC?" Pak approached them quietly and carefully. "We've been wondering where you were. It's been over a week..."
MC looked up at him and Pak could see that he had a faraway look in his eyes, like whatever he was seeing wasn't really there. "I've been trying to cheer up Millbee, Pak."
He quietly looked to the sheep. "He hasn't been happy at all recently. What's wrong with him? H-he hasn't smiled or laughed or joked or - or - or..."
The man in the orange suit started shaking, and it took Pak a moment to realize that he was crying. He carefully put one arm around his friend.
"I just miss Millbee so much, Pak! I really miss him!" MC sobbed into his shoulder.
“We all miss him, MC. You don’t need to feel alone.”
“Thanks, Pakratt. ...Thanks.”
And there sat Pak, comforting his friend as the sun slowly set on Woolopolis.
(Total wordcount: 520)
