(Hey-Oh! This is just a one-shot surrounding Vanellope's possible feelings in Ralph Breaks the Internet... and why it was so hard for her to talk to Ralph truthfully about how she felt and her feelings about Slaughter Race :)
The scene: right after the musical number "A Place Called Slaughter Race" happens. Vanellope knows it's the intense racing game for her- and in the end, goes and talks to Shank on how to tell Ralph.
Hope all enjoy!)
Sighing softly, Vanellope von Schweetz laid her chin into her tiny crossed arms resting upon her knees. Taking all the surrounding game had to offer her, the child used all her senses as she sat frozen still, not wanting to move and miss any of it.
The small girl stared out dreamily over the smoggy, edgy, intense, perfect game of Slaughter Race- and it was quite the scene to take in, she could openly admit.
In the far distance in front of her was a post-apocalyptic landscape- the raided-then-abandoned businesses and swooping flying helicopters above them filled the scene with an eerie yet riveting sensation. A beautiful, colorful sky due to a sun that was just beginning to set was behind the worn buildings, the smoke-like clouds stretched across the sky as well- enhancing the beauty of the whole scene.
Far below the crumbling, broken bridge she was on, Vanellope knew, there was a slew of cars, some still running, some not. Some were even lit mightly on fire and abandoned, allowing a soft, strangely comforting glow to light up the dark underpass of sorts.
Headlights from cars were seen here and there on roads below and far away, but the streets were empty for the most part- the cars and the characters inside them not having to be here or there at a certain time, stay on a certain track, race with certain other characters. They were all truly free.
A feeling Vanellope never once felt in Sugar Rush in all these past six years.
A shiver ran down the child's back, causing her tense up slightly in her place on a hood of a delightful, edgy and smooth green convertible, it's hood incredibly cold to the touch.
Instead of getting off the car, though, Vanellope stayed put, curling that much more into a little mint green ball. She inhaled deeply in place, peacefully taking in the smog-filled, thick air around her- intoxicating to her in an amazing, odd way. It was like a strange blanket, snuggling against her skin instead of feeling restrictive or heavy.
Oh, and the sounds of Slaughter Race- man, were they different to the young girl's ears! And in a strange way, they almost became music to her. The orchestra of car tires spinning out, the symphony of worn car honks, the bizarre harmony of breaking glass, even the chorus of hungry sharks busting out from their disgusting place in the sewers- all were constant and overwhelmingly magnificent at times.
All those terrifying sounds here in Slaughter Race would make most characters cringe and cower in fear- but they alone were enough to get a little tomboy girl's heart like Vanellope's to race and backfire in place... and were even weirdly comforting to her, forming a lullaby she never heard in Sugar Rush.
Softly fluttering her large eyes, Vanellope sighed as she found that her mind wandering back to her risky, exciting race with Shank. Boy, was that ever amazing! Just the thought of the race she had with the cool woman sent happy, exciting chills down the child's spine all over again, causing her to shake slightly in place.
Vanellope could see in her mind's eye Shank as her competitor -a real competitor to her- nearly side-swiping the child's car countless times. Shank was indeed skilled professional driver- who had been driving like a risky rebel for years on end.
The child could mentally feel herself slamming her foot hard on the 'go-pedal', shocked at how fast Shank's car could go from zero to 90 in a few mere seconds. She could experience with renewed excitement the rush she got racing in that car- a real car- with all those real, exciting twists and turns and epic jumps she did- all feeling like there was nothing holding her back, like she was free to drive anywhere she wished...
And, if she thought hard about it enough, Vanellope could even physically feel all the gears and shifts Shank's car had, each feeling so new and so exciting and so different from her boring little go-kart back in Sugar Rush...
In fact, when Vanellope thought about it, Sugar Rush never had sunsets quite this beautiful, smells quite this strong, sounds quite this musical, races quite that exciting...
Sugar Rush never made Vanellope feel quite like this.
Never once did she ever really know what it felt like to have true, unleased excitement, or like she was on fire in the best way possible. Like she had no true idea what was going to happen next- but she was at the edge of her seat the whole time, dying, living to find out what did and what would come could next...
Never once have I ever felt like...like I actually belong, like I'm accepted...like I'm needed...
Until now- here in the internet game Slaughter Race.
Slowly opening her eyes, Vanellope felt herself gulp back a knot in her throat- a strange, happy little knot that made her feel so warm and fuzzy inside. She blinked back rare, blurring tears, her eyes stringing slightly with the mist in them.
She couldn't deny it any longer, she knew deep down. She had to accept it, not hide it or pretend it wasn't indeed true. Because it was- and she couldn't just ignore it anymore.
Vanellope von Schweetz loved Slaughter Race. And she loved it more than she ever did Sugar Rush.
In fact, she loved the entire Internet- how it was always so busy, so havoc, so fun...So different from her life in the arcade- and she loved the way it made her feel just so alive.
I want -need, really, all it has to offer to be my perfect new life...
Blinking her large, round eyes open once more, a content smile overtook the child's face as she raised her head off her knees, a feeling of true peace filling her heart. Sighing in tranquility, she took one last look off into the slowly darkening sky and hesitantly crawled off of the car she was on, allowing the smooth hood to easily and gingerly slide under her fingertips.
As her feet touch the ground again, Vanellope childishly rubbed her nose and tucked her tiny hands in her hoodie pouch. Twisted her finger softly around inside the pocket, she headed slowly back towards the direction of Shank's garage, finding her mind was becoming a twisting, swirling blob of thoughts- some sweet, some sour.
This is for the best, she subconscious thought, her eyes glued to the pavement under her feet, staying here in Slaughter Race and living in the Internet...
Sure, if she stayed here, then that would mean that she'd have to leave the Sugar Rush world and everything and everyone in it behind... but that would be just fine with her, if the child was being honest.
Vanellope still cared Sugar Rush, don't get her wrong- still loved it, in fact. It was where she learned to first drive and where she had her first real kart, after all. There were some really good, fond memories she had there, ones she'd always cherish...
But the child could openly admit she had kinda, well...outgrown the little candy go-kart game. Become too mature for it, if she was being completely truthful about how she really felt.
After all, I really do know each of the tracks like the back of my hand, Vanellope mentally droned as she slowly strolled, avoiding the huge, crumbling pieces of concrete on the bridge as she did. I know exactly what the power-ups will be, when they will come my way- and how to dodge them perfectly. I know when to pull a classic side-winder, when to pull an epic reverse-jump...something the others racers can't seem to do yet no matter how many times I try to show them how. Heck, I know when Candlehead will pull her worn-out trick of lighting cherry bombs, or when Taffyta will pull her old stunt of cutting me off at the last second...
I know when and what and where something is going to happen next in Sugar Rush- in every single race, in every single game, in every single day...
At the dull, grueling mental movie of what was formerly her old life running through her mind, the child couldn't help but roll her hazel eyes. How she had made that boring, repetitious life actually work all these years was beyond her understanding.
All she knew was that after day in and day out of that same monotonous routine, the races had become taxing, dull, uneventful to her- something she used to enjoy but now found so beyond boring it pained her.
And that all got old over these past 6 years, the child mentally continued as she climbed over a considerable size of the uprooted congealed road. Got old fast...
Understandably, then, Vanellope could just easily leave the little sugary game behind, she felt- along with all the horrible memories and bad vibes that always seemed to lurk over her like a dark cloud there, anyway. There were way more of those than there were good, happy and sunny memories in Vanellope's opinion and experience...
Six little years of a normal life with few good moments here and there far compared to all the deep, lasting mental scars 15 long years of mistreatment towards her had caused, after all.
As she walked past the derelict dollar store in Slaughter Race, Vanellope looked over and saw her reflection in the broken window. Venturing closer to it, she placed a tiny hand on the glass and peered into her reflection- and couldn't help but notice how different than she looked for her surroundings.
The game around her was dark, mature, risque; Vanellope, in an almost comical way, was light-themed, childish, innocent looking in design in contrast...But the chibi child still couldn't help but half-smile at her mirroring image.
Although she so looked different from her new game, Vanellope knew she was destined to be here- that was just a fact. Heck, she more than destined to be here. She was accepted here, freely loved here- and nothing could buy or hide that.
As she began to walk away, the child let her fingertips remain on the window, grazing the pane as she went. Making her steps count, Vanellope at times looked over at her following reflection, mimicking her every move. Another tiny smile appeared on her face.
It's such a strange feeling to look so different from everyone else here...I'm not used to that at all...
The mental image of Taffyta and Rancis suddenly flashed before Vanellope's mind eye, followed by Candlehead and Minty...and all the other racers from Sugar Rush grouped together into a racing blur of candy before her on a red sugary track...
Causing Vanellope to pause in midstep as she stared at herself in the glass.
Can I really just leave all of them behind, too, though? she thought with a guilty conscience, unable to ignore the look of genuine concern in her eyes reflecting back at her. Just forget all of my friends back in Sugar Rush?
But that word...friends...felt so foreign and out of place when used in connection with Vanellope's old game mates; it felt off and sticky on the tongue of her mental voice.
Six odd years ago, right after the reset, the chibi racers had tried to make things up to Vanellope by being kind to her, all in order to cover over how horrible they had treated her- and Vanellope appreciated that, she really did...And back then, she could even see herself bonding with them eventually, becoming good pals if they allowed her to. Becoming actual friends if they let her.
But soon the time after the reset had become days, which became weeks and months and years...and with that time, the racers 'love and kindness and acceptance' towards Vanellope kinda cooled off. Became less and less genuine. Became less and less important to show to their leader. And before long, they stopped showing it at all.
And with that, Vanellope realized that each Sugar Rush racer had slowly recoiled back to how their friendships and attitudes were before the reset. Happily back to their own cliches and groups... and kinda just viewed Vanellope as the extra wheel, the extra piece to the puzzle.
Sure, they respect her- for the most part. And yeah, they sure as fudge didn't bully her anymore, which was nice. But still, they all had just become mere acquaintances, stand-off frienemies in Vanellope's opinion. Mere citizens under her so-called 'rulership'. Competitors in the daily races- if Vanellope could even sincerely call the racers that.
And all her fellow racers, in turn, just viewed their president/princess as a mere, distance leader- never really someone they could be or get close to...
Which Vanellope frankly didn't blame them for.
Turbo screwed up their codes as much as he mine, Vanellope maturely realized deep down as she kicked at some lose, broke wires that were on the ground, still walking in the abandoned sidewalk before the dollar store. He was just awful to them, I'm sure- leaving a bad taste in their mouths for the next leader. Besides that, he had somehow convinced them to hate and fear me in their hearts, not just in their minds- and that could never be just reset to how it was before...If I ever even had a real friendship with any of the racers before he took over the game...
The fact was, pre-reset or not, Vanellope couldn't ever remember a time when any of those Sugar Rush racers ever felt like real friends to her...
At least, not the way Shank and the gang immediately became to her.
At the thought of Shank and her motley crew, Vanellope slipped her mint green hood to cover over a bit of her face, seeking to hide her growing blush from her reflection. This failed, though, as the child finally turned and smirked widely at the little girl in her mirror- oddly seeing a bit of older woman in herself.
Shank is so cool- an awesome big sister of sorts, Vanellope mentally gushed, a huge, admiring smile replacing her smirk. And all of the gang- they really feel like...
Not just friends...but like family...
Sighing softly, Vanellope peacefully nodded at herself one last time in the window and began walking on again, her fingers still sliding down the glass as she did.
None of those racers back in Sugar Rush would really miss her if she up and left the game, she knew. And that fact didn't really honestly hurt her. Not one bit, actually.
Because Vanellope knew deep down that you can't miss something you don't genuinely feel for.
And the players, too, will stop caring that I'm gone after a while, I bet, she thought briefly, mentally shrugging off the next concern that popped in her mind. Sure, I'm their top favorite racer- but I'm still just one random rooster character in some arcade game to them. One that was locked up for so long, they'll probably figure just got locked up again.
But all that said... Vanellope still felt herself fretting slightly, slowing down in her pace as she stepped over a smallish pothole in the sidewalk before the dollar store.
Even if the game itself won't miss me, do I still have a responsibility to the Sugar Rush gaming cabinet- and all its inhabitants? she pondered worryingly. Do they really rely on me in order to have success in the game?...
And since the game is currently unplugged, all of its citizens are probably freaking out as to what they are going to do, where they are going end up having to live...and that thought genuinely pained Vanellope.
Am I abandoning them? she wondered truthfully. I am the leader of the game, after all...
But seconds later, Vanellope found herself shaking her head, rejecting such thinking.
The candies fans are having a blast in Pac-man and Mrs.Pac-man, I'm sure, she reasoned with a physical shrug of her small shoulders. They probably feel like they belong there- and like they have a bigger role than they did in Sugar Rush...
And the racers will be fine, too, Vanellope knew deep down- they've got Felix and Calhoun, the best set of crazy parents a group of sugar-crazed kids could ask for...
And although she did emotionally wince at the idea of leaving Felix and Calhoun behind as well -they had been such awesome friends to her these past 6 years- Vanellope knew the Fix-It couple would be fine without her around, too...
Suddenly realizing she had reached the end of the dollar store window edge, Vanellope gripped the side of the building gently. Allowing herself to just let it all go, she leaped slightly (and admittedly very princesslike) two steps ahead- her heart never feeling any freer.
Sure, she'd be lying if Vanellope said she wouldn't miss Litwak's Arcade- especially Sugar Rush and the Fix-It couple. But she had deep peace in knowing that everything -and everyone- would be perfectly fine without her being in the arcade; nothing would really change or be affected with her being gone permanently, in fact...
At that realization, Vanellope carelessly flipped her sweatshirt hood off of her head as she strolled on, now full of confidence in her decision to stay here in the online racing game- and not about to cave on it.
And besides, Vanellope reasoned then, feeling even better, it's not like the candies or racers won't have a game to go back to. Ralph has got the new steering wheel, so the game would be plugged back right back in in a matter of-
Suddenly, the happy-go-lucky child froze, as did everything else around her. Her very code itself felt iced over, her stomach partly hit the dark pavement below her feet hard. Her head began to ferociously ache and to cause her to feel incredibly lightheaded.
The air seemed thicker all of a sudden, heavier and more suffocating than she remembered it being before. The sights around blurred together into a giant blob of oranges and browns. Even the sounds -the noises that once made her have peace- were suddenly deafening, forcing Vanellope to block them out the best she could...and caused a small, involuntary glitch to run through her little body.
Ralph...
AKA: Vanellope's most best friend ever, her Stink Brain...
The only person who would find her leaving the arcade extremely hard to accept- if he even did...
Oh, how in the mother of monkey milk could I have forgotten about him? Vanellope screamed at herself, her earlier confidence completely busted as she mentally slapped herself. My very best friend?
A sickening feeling overtook the small girl, to the point where she felt like she needed to sit down before she collapsed. She haphazardly looked around for a suitable seat- eyeing an abandoned, tread-worn tire in the middle of the main road to her right.
Not getting to it fast enough, Vanellope raced and tripped repeatedly over to the tire and collapsed down on the outer edge of it, suddenly more exhausted than ever before. Slightly hyperventilating, she placed her heavy head in her hands, not wanting to think about the whole new situation at hand- but forcing herself to.
Ralph had gotten the money to pay for the new Sugar Rush steering wheel, had said the steering wheel in hand and was now (no doubt impatiently) waiting at Ebay for her to safely return...
Safely return to being by his side day and night, to begrudgingly return to being in the boring arcade, to gruelingly return back to their mundane lives in the Sugar Rush and Fix-it Felix Jr. cabinets...
To unhappily return to a life Vanellope just couldn't bear to go back to now.
She kinda wanted -sorta knew, really...No, Vanellope had to firmly talk to Ralph about all this. She had to reveal about her deep feelings for Slaughter Race, how she wanted to live in the game and stuff...
Which even the very idea of telling him terrified her straight to her little code.
As another, stronger glitch attack shook and distorted her physical appearance, Vanellope sighed shakily. Not thinking, she exhaustedly flopped back to lay down on the tire, knocking her head sharply on the inner rim as she dipped into the middle. Rubbing her sore noggin, the child allowed her whole back to crumble and relax into the middle of the deep tire, her short legs barely reaching over the edge. She then emptily stared up at the smoky, hazy clouds- suddenly reminded at how different it was from the beautiful and clear sky back in Fix It Felix Jr.
Closing her eyes tight as another glitch threatened to seize her, the little girl tried to remind herself to breathe, that everything would be ok...but this time it was much, much harder to believe than ever before.
The whole idea of talking to Ralph about something he would inevitably find hard to deal with was never something Vanellope wanted to do, she'd openly admit. In fact, she avoided it at all costs that she could- hating to feeling the dread and doom it caused her if she didn't.
She wanted things to always stay lighthearted between him and her, just be the playful and never serious best friends her and Ralph always were...and never allow in anything in that could strain their happy, close friendship...
In fact, since she had met him, Vanellope hated having any real confrontation with Ralph. She sought to never really fight with him unless it was really, really needed- and had succeeded in not really doing so all these years.
Maybe it was because things between them were just easier that way, or because she knew he hated talking about actual feelings as much as she really did...
But Vanellope subconsciously knew she hated fighting with Ralph for a much deeper, darker reason.
After all, how'd she really know her very best friend -her very hero- wouldn't...wouldn't just up and leave her one day for disagreeing with him?
Now, Vanellope knew deep down Ralph truly cared about her- his fatherly/big brotherish protection over her, his gentle playfulness toward her...their very friendship gave more than enough evidence of his affection of her. And maybe even inwardly the child knew that he really loved her enough to never abandon her, no matter how bad they squabbled ...
But Vanellope's still healing, slow-to-mend heart wondered nonetheless.
What if one day she and Ralph fought so badly, so bitterly, so cruelly, so blinded by emotions -about something she brought up- that it split the two of them up? Forever? And it was all her fault?
Deep down, Vanellope just couldn't handle that. She just couldn't lose Ralph over anything- especially over anything so petty, so little. Over something that she felt like was her fault- even if in reality it wasn't.
She loved Ralph way more than to just risk that happening.
The horrifying thought of losing her Stink Brain was enough to make Vanellope feel like she was swallowed up whole- even more than the tire was swallowing her. Feeling like she was drowning into misery, she gulped sadly as she tightly shut her eyes and refused to open them.
She briefly felt the past 6 years of their friendship flash before her mind's eye- and found some other possible reasons deep down why she hated talking to Ralph about anything of serious concern.
Every once and awhile in the past, Vanelllope would sometimes nonchalantly voice a smallish concern to him about Sugar Rush -that it was getting tiresome, then it was becoming repetitious, then it finally got boring and not exciting...
But each time she spoke to him about it, Ralph...changed. Became someone Vanellope didn't truly know- nor liked.
For one thing, he never seemed to understand what she'd mean- which Vanellope kindly made exceptions for the most part. Ralph's a grown man (a diaper baby at heart, though), she's just a little girl, for one thing. He's from a wrecking game, she's a racer at heart. He was truly happy with having a calm, repetitious life with Vanellope by his side- Vanellope, on the other hand, wanted excitement, wanted something different in her life...
Just two different people with two different lives and past and problems, the child realized. Two friends who wanted two different things out of life- yet Ralph and Vanellope had made it work all these years.
Well, Vanellope did, at least. Ralph never seemed to have to 'make it work'- their redundant, routine lives was just perfect in his opinion...But even if that was true to him, the child still wanted him to at least try to understand why she never felt that same way about their lives, why she at times wanted something different. But Ralph never did understand...causing Vanellope to feel discouraged.
But worse than that, when she would slightly push her issues further with her game, her day, her life, Ralph seemed to fill with undue anxiety over it. It was like it was his natural instincts, somewhere deep inside his code to panic, to overreact, to become unnecessarily worried and shakily uneasy and paranoidly fretful...
To immediately resort to thinking that he was going to lose his first real friend- his very best friend, maybe? To just assume that Vanellope was bored with him, that being his friend was tiresome and repetitious and taxing, perhaps?
Maybe, just maybe...Ralph can't handle losing me over anything so petty, so little, either. Over something he feels that is his fault- even if in reality it isn't...
Sighing softly, Vanellope allowed her eyes to flutter open slowly, blankly searching the sky for the answer of what to do. When she found no answer, she gulped back another knot in her throat- this one not so comforting.
She reached up and ran a hand through her wispy black bangs, pushing them back as she tucked them behind her ear. Shaking her head once more, the child felt herself shrink that much deeper into the middle of the wheel- feeling more and more blameworthy and small by the second.
After all those times of trying to get him to understand, all those moments of having to reassure him 'things were fine'...after all these years of being worried one little problem could cause him to leave her, Vanellope decided to give up. Not be the one causing the possible fighting, the possible arguing. Choosing to not be in serious disagreements between her and Ralph -not dealing with the very real issues at hand, really...
Instead, she had learned to just give in. Let her and Ralph 'agree to disagree' when potential problems arose. Just let Ralph think nothing of real concern was going on inside her (not that he'd understand, anyway) and that she wasn't upset over anything- thus not upsetting him in return. Just go on pretending all was good and merry and fine in their friendship, in their games, in their lives.
And all of that was so much easier than dealing with the growing issues Vanellope dealt with her game and life in her heart, anyway.
But overall these years, all of those seemingly petty, little, insignificant issues and problems and unaddressed emotions had become like little rocks, like little individual bricks. They seemed to be small, to be petty by themselves, but left unchecked -left ignored- they could stack up, and stack up higher than ever intended...
And allow for a strange, strong, stubborn wall to slowly grow in their place.
In fact, inside Ralph's mind and heart, there was now an unbreakable, unshakable, unwreckable wall- formed with the raw material of abandoned underlining issues, unresolved tensions, unanswered emotional bricks...
Bricks that may now never understand how Vanellope felt. Bricks that may now never even attempt to try to understand how she felt. Bricks that now overprotected Ralph's heart from all of the burning issues, petty or not, and that kept his meaningful, strong friendship with Vanellope deep down into the middle- protected, unaffected, unthreatened...
Mounts and mounts of bricks that now protectively surrounded Vanellope herself whole.
But the more she allowed that wall grow (and never made any efforts to dismantle it), the more Vanellope was honestly ok and comfortable with it being up. Suppressing her issues had become just apart of her, so the strong wall didn't bother her that much. All those bricks being around her and their friendship kept damaging things outside and their close, deep friendship safely inside, anyway.
In fact, if Ralph hadn't built that new track in Sugar Rush for her, if the steering wheel hadn't ever broken...if they had never stepped into the internet to begin with, Vanellope would've just let that wall Ralph put up stay. She could've just dealt with her boring game -even though it was unplugged. Just stayed in her same uneventful life, living without a purpose in Ralph's game, she guessed- as long as it kept her friendship with Ralph ok.
But now...
Things had changed...drastically. Vanellope herself had changed, significantly, even.
And all because of this internet game Slaughter Race.
At the sudden remembrance that she was in said game -her dream game- a small smile broke out onto Vanellope's face. She sighed softly, closing her eyes as all her other senses reminded her how just how much she loved this game.
Opening her eyes and staring off into the still slowly darkening space of sky above, the child felt oddly despondent yet content, nervous yet peacefully. Unhappy yet happy.
The internet racing game was no petty, little problem or issue. It wasn't something Vanellope could just overlook, pretend wasn't there and nagging at her to stay. Something she could just leave behind, go back to Sugar Rush and pretend wasn't important to her.
No, Slaughter Race was actually a huge deal to Vanellope. She was deeply emotionally attached to the game, and she found true happiness, true belonging, true purpose in life in here- like she never once did in Sugar Rush.
The people here got her, understood her. The races here renewed her very love of driving.
The very game was enough for her- all she had ever wanted out of life...
And that was something Vanellope just couldn't give up or let go of now that she finally had it.
This- this is going to a huge, huge issue between Ralph and I, Vanellope desperately thought as her heart raced and backfired- more out of fear than excitement this time, though. This- this could make or break our friendship, really...
Just the thought of the latter happening caused the child to sporadically glitch again, pixelating her body and the tire wheel itself. Her heart ached at the possibility of such a devasting result.
Is being his friend even going to be possible if I stay here? she pondered desperately, her thoughts and heart beyond conflicted as she gritted her teeth slightly in distress. Best friends can't just live worlds apart from each other!
Yet in the heat of her divided emotions, Vanellope's heart consolingly reminded her of one very, very important fact.
Slaughter Race was worth it. Her very happiness was worth it.
The game was worth expressing how she really felt, whether Ralph understood or not. Worth no longer settling with just being bored. She understood that now, her overall happiness was worth actually fighting with Ralph for, worth arguing with him for. Worth putting her foot down for, worth having some (admittedly needed) distance from her very best friend, even...
Worth taking a big, big risk on.
Her mind suddenly determined, Vanellope clatched onto the sides of the tire and hoisted herself up back onto the edge of the wheel. She sat still for a moment, her back straight as a pole as she looked back in the direction she came from.
As she did, her heart became unbreakable, unshakable. Unwreckable.
She could do this. She had to.
But how? her next thought became as she placed her chin in her hand posed on her knee, unclear of where to go from here. How do I tell Ralph I want to live here in Slaughter Race- and that I still want to be his best friend?
Unable to come with an answer that made sense and that would help her gentle giant Stink Brain finally, finally understand completely, Vanellope depressingly stood up, growling frustratedly as she did.
In pure anger, she kicked a little stone by the tire and walked on as she watched it go flying through the air, ricocheting off an old worn out fire hydrant, and finally crash landing and rolling several times... before coming to rest right before the gang's garage.
At least I have Shank to talk to about it all, Vanellope thought in a little bit of comfort, wiping her running nose again- refusing to cry. Maybe she will able to give me some advice on what to do here, how to talk to Ralph...
In mid-step, Vanellope froze, nearly losing her balance and tripping over a large manhole plate she didn't even see below her.
Sure, maybe would be kinda wrong to talk to Shank first instead of Ralph in person, Vanellope knew deep down knew in her heart... but she needed advice on what do. Desperately needed advice- and the child knew her big sister Shank would know just what should do.
Shoving her hands in her pockets once more, the child stepped determinately on the manhole plate, stomping her little foot hard on the mental cover. Gulping back the sea forming in her eyes, she then took off in an all-out sprint towards Shank's garage- although she couldn't help but weaver slightly over the ever-present little glitches still overtaking her little body.
Because in the amazingly dark and perfect game of Slaughter Race, Vanellope knew there was no more denying it. It was finally the time.
It was the time to put a hole in that huge brick wall she had help Ralph build up all these years- no matter how much ammo it took.