A chaptered fic! sue me!

Anyhow, I ship the bear children, so let's see how this gypsy AU goes. Hopefully I can start uploading my Talon / Quinn lore fic soon :P

enjoy my cringy ass writing aha

Night is sweeping over the traditional markets, carving purple shadows over the ornate red rooftops and revealing the faint stars in the sky. Birds sweep, cawing, in smooth arcs and dips through the warm evening air, which, like the calm before a storm, is heavy with the anticipation of the usual night rush of people from every culture seeking food and souvenirs.

A little boy sprints after a little girl in on of the emptier streets. "Annie!" he roars.

Annie stops skipping and turns, scowling. "Nunu, the game hasn't even started yet! Don't give us away already!" she chides. A little backpack hangs lopsided on her left shoulder and the cat ears on her headband contrast with her dark pink hair.

Nunu glares at her, fire in his normally cold eyes. "That's exactly my point! Why are you letting Amumu play?!"

She blinks. "What, you don't want to let him play with us?" she asks, a hint of defensiveness creeping into her squeaky voice.

Realizing his mistake, he hesitates, then shakes his head hastily. "N-no! It's just - I mean..." Nunu falters,"-he doesn't usually play with us," he says weakly.

Annie blinks again, then breaks into a smile. "Well, yeah!" she giggles. "But he's really nice, you know! Plus, he doesn't have anyone to play with, and when I asked him if he wanted to play tag with us, he was so happy, and-"

"It's just!" he cuts her off, and she is silent in her surprise, and he thinks he is blushing,"I mean, it...used to be...just me and you, right?"

There's a heavier silence that falls between them as the gears in Annie's head turn. "But..." and she is confused, so confused,"isn't...wouldn't it be...more fun with more people? Why?.."

He is definitely red now, stuttering as he backs away from her slowly. "Naw, I'm joking! Let's play, right?! Uh, don't get caught, yeah?" And with that he turns tail and flees down the street, dashing past the yellow lights of the stalls, past row after row of traditional ornaments, foods, like a blur of quickness away from her.

Regret crosses her face. "Wait, Nunu!" she cries, reaching an uncertain hand out to his retreati?ng figure. Her voice echoes slightly and on the rooftops above her, a bird takes flight with a loud, lonely caw.

Her hand droops sadly and she walks away, shooting a last reluctant glance over her shoulder. "Why was Nunu angry?" she mumbled, breaking into a rhythmic jog around the corner of the street. "Did I do something wrong?"

As a child, Annie's parents had spoiled her and raised her like their very own princess, giving her everything she wanted and never scolding her. She grew up haughty and demanding, and a true brat to the very core: selfish, judging, and whiney.

The other children of the gypsy market hated her. They shunned her, left her out of games, talked about her behind her back and bullied her thoroughly when they thought her parents weren't looking. She did try complaining about it to her parents, neutral adults, heck, even their parents; but it only fueled their distaste for her, and she became the permanent goose in the chase of childhood, the one person they readied comebacks for, the one child the adults could always rely on to be alone in partnering activities.

For a long time, she set her will in stone and turned away from them. Who said she needed them? She had Tibbers, her teddy bear, who would always be there, always gracing her with his presence. More importantly, she had her loving parents, who loved her no matter how she was feeling that day and no matter what she did, whether they be wrong or right. She would pull through and show them who was truly going to shine!

But soon, her parents went bankrupt as a result of having to satisfy all of her desires. They were forced to work day and night shifts to earn a living, and her father was even sent to work overseas, whereas her mother was made to stay over at the mansion where she worked as a servant. There was no more time to even contact their daughter, let alone come home and care for her.

She was alone.

And the worst part was that they weren't even angry. Maybe she would have felt less guilty if they had yelled at her, or ignored her, but they smiled kindly and told her it was okay, that it wasn't her fault, that they would try as hard as they could to see her as often as possible, and even as she nodded and wiped away her tears, she knew it was impossible, that she probably wouldn't even remember their faces in two years, and that she would eventually end up like all the kids in this condition, on their knees begging for meager change from passerbys, or worse, forced into prostitution and child labor.

The others simply laughed. Serves her right! they chortled. It's none other than her fault for the situation her family's in right now!

And slowly her attitude subsided, her haughtiness transforming into uncertainty, her proud facade crumbling away with the remnants of memories of a happier life, as her last layer of protection was shattered and the other children attacked, like ravens circling her fresh corpse. Yet even as she tried her best to improve, to change, it was too late; nobody needed her to be good or to accommodate anymore. They only needed her to be rude, to be spoiled, to be Annie, to be the benchmark for bad behaviour that other parents used and the person that everyone could hate. Gradually, surely, she broke, like a dropped glass on the verge of suddenly falling apart.

But then Nunu appeared in her life.

He just appeared, one day, at one of the stalls, sleeping outside, eating whatever scraps the shopkeepers could give him, and feeding his pet dog. Nobody knew where he came from and nobody knew if he had parents nearby or not. He was a mystery, that child, they whispered.

The first time she met him was on her way home after another listless day. She had been looking down at the ground, but caught sight of him out of the corner of her eyes, and turned to stare openly at him. He was leaning against a wall, legs crossed, stroking his dog behind the ears.

She watched the dog's ears perk up with wariness and its eyes swivel round to observe her, dark orbs of animalistic intent hidden in thick, shaggy white fur. As it did, so did he, raising a head of short black hair to meet her large eyes head on, and Annie felt a spark of electricity run through her body, a jolt of excitement, a invisible string connecting them that had suddenly been tugged hard.

Suddenly, the dog spun and bounded towards her with a loud bark, and she raised her hands up in defense, but a warm, slimy feeling came across them and she realized that she was being licked. And across from her, through the blizzard of white hair, she watched the boy smile and rise to his feet.

And the dropped glass of her life was painted over with a warm, protective layer of glue, holding her pieces together and keeping her company.

Annie is worried. Does Nunu not like Amumu? she wonders. Or maybe they have a history together, and I was inconsiderate enough to force them together?

Oh, no, she frets. Maybe Nunu is mad at me?

Or worse, that he told me once...

..and I forgot?

Panic wells up as a giant wave in her stomach. Oh, Nunu!

Then she stops haltingly. Wait-

In her worry, she has turned a wrong corner. Dread seeps into her veins and she turns, confused, staring up at different stalls, different signs, different corners, of a deserted street. "Nunu?" she calls uncertainly, her tiny fingers clutching the hem of her skirt shakily. "Amumu?" She swallows thickly and turns again.

That is her mistake. She spins frantically, but it has been done - she cannot recognize the street she came from. The corners are all identical, and she hates how the shadows are so dark at each turn, like a block of black paint.

Where is she?