Chapter 8: Preparation
A/N: Kinda a boring chapter! Sorry but I felt like it was necessary to understand how she is surviving out on her own :3 I promise the next chapter will be more interesting! And get back to the mystery of the poetry book and all that other biz! Review and stuff!
Princess Bubblegum's eyelids fluttered open with the sun's setting light. The clearing was flooded in a blood-orange glow, which leaked from slim gaps between the trees as a soft wind rustled the leaves in low whispers. The flowers petals remained securely shut from the fiery sun, and the small dark pond sat still. Sitting in front of the princess's face, the ancient poetry volume lay with her purple notebook under its cover and her pen to its side. These objects eclipsed half of her face from the setting ginger light.
Moving to sit up, a throbbing pain shot up her back; sleeping on the ground was not ideal. Her body ached from the exertion and stress of her travel for the past two nights. As a princess, she was rather, well… 'soft' was a nice way to put it. Her gummy flesh was quite sensitive to the elements and while she definitely was not overweight, her slender frame had no defined muscle to speak of. Frowning, she stared down to her now dirt-covered satin flats and pants. How she wished she could bathe. Bubblegum's stomach gurgled angrily, interrupting her train of thought. How she wished she could eat a real meal. Apparently, a sort of domino effect was taking place because a sudden compulsion to scratch the exposed tops of her feet and hands was met with the girl's great frustration.
"Freaking gumdrops!" The pink monarch cursed tracing over her inflamed skin.
Insects bites formed large welts on almost all of her exposed skin. Thank glob they had not gotten to her face. The amateur scientist would have normally jotted down some reports about these phantom bites, but knew she should prepare to take her leave.
Finally bringing herself to stand, she leaned with a pained expression to search through her bag's contents. She pulled out a hefty, unfilled water bottle with a built-in filter, a pink washcloth, a sugar glass brush with candy wood bristles, a pear, and lastly a roll of toilet tissue. Blushing, she glared down at the roll with a horrified expression. What the almighty glob had she been thinking? She was a princess! Her manner would not allow for such distasteful behavior, she…she- really needed to go. Swallowing her pride, she quickly grabbed the tissue before rushing to bordering shrubs to finish the uncomfortable task. The duchess would have felt faint, and while this idea pleased the princess this action most certainly did not. Emerging from the brush, she threw the roll back into her pack, wishing she would never have to experience the degradation of this action again, but knowing full well she would daily. This was just awful.
Resisting the strong urge to itch her burning hands and feet, Bubblegum collected the items she had pulled from her bag only moments before. Her feet carried her to the ponds murky edge where she knelled down to fill her self-filtering bottle (of her own creation, of course). After she had taken a long thirsty swig, her expression shifted to one of inquiry. It tasted metallic, which was not completely disagreeable, but not something actively she sought out. Making a mental note of the filters flavor downfalls, she reached for the pink cloth at her side and wetted it with the bottle's clean liquid. Starting with her face, she washed the dust from her beneath her dark pink bangs and moved down her cheeks to her sticky neck. Wringing out the soiled rag she again poured filtered water on to its absorbent surface and after slipping off her shoes rested the damp cloth across feet. The cool, moist towel brought some relief to the pink monarch's throbbing, prickling feet, but not much, either way she continued. She began working the brush through her sticky locks collecting small leaves, rough pebbles and sticks. She really needed to powder her skin and hair to decrease their adhesive qualities, but would get to that in a moment. Pulling the brush through her hair she finished her regimented; (exactly) one hundred and two strokes. Even when she was finally free the princess could not help but stick to some bogus schedule. Really though, what was wrong with her? She needed to unwind, Bubblegum could be who she wanted out here. For once she did not have to be perfect, she thought reclining back on clothed elbows as she rested her hand atop the pears smooth skin. Sighing she took the pear and held it to her chapped lips. The girl could not bring herself to truly believe her own thoughts. Sinking her teeth into the firm, tasteless fruit, her expression grew bitter.
Princess Bubblegum's eyes focused on the white flowers as the suns light began to dissolve to a light salmon then a middle indigo, before falling to a dark blue. The petals had slowly untwisted and gently tumbled open with the moon's silver light. This fellow planet was no longer great and golden, but had returned to the smaller lonely white sphere. This was the princess's cue to slip her shoes back on and return all the toiletries to her purple backpack. Taking the last several bites of the sour fruit in one mouthful, she stood, swallowing, with an ill face. She then threw the pear's finished core forcefully into the bushes behind the coal colored pond. There was no use in being paranoid now that she had dropped the apple core yesterday. Maybe she should have gone back and searched for it- no, there was no going back now, that would be far too risky. While the banana guards were useless, (which in turn for once aided the princess) the candy elders were not. Those worn-out sweets were actually pretty clever for their outdated age. This fact concerned the teen severely.
After gathering her belongs in the pack, she quickly pulled a palm-sized, ornately designed compact of white powder from a smaller pocket on the bag's side. She lightly dabbed the chalky dust over her tacky skin and hair with a fluffy pink, cotton candy applicator. When she had finished her routine she placed the item back in its appropriate pocket and zipped shut the bags openings. Slipping the hefty thing over her shoulders, she stood shakily, gaping at the darkness of the brush in front of her.
The pink teen glanced down at her wristwatch, which read exactly seven-o-clock. Was it too early to leave the safety of the wood? Bubblegum figured that if she made her way east into the rolling green hills of the grasslands now, she would make her next stop at- wait, what was her next stop? Swiftly turning she bent to seize the poetry book, her notepad, and pen from the yellow dirt floor. Flipping open the purple pad, she thumbed through several note-filled pages before landing on the trade route map she had copied at the farming town's library. Her next destination was a sizable craft city, eighteen miles away. Sheesh…eighteen miles sounded like a lot, but she should be able to cover that in approximately four and half hours. The candy princess had calculated the distance at a leisurely pace (she did not want to strain her body) so that each mile would take about fifteen minutes. Hesitant feet moved forward, carrying her through the dense timber as she clutched the papers to her chest. The foliage dissolved into hilly, empty grass planes, but the princess stood wavering in the trees' safety. Her nervous hand fell to the t-shaped charm in her pocket. This was it, her first night of real travel. Her face grew from uncertain to determined as she stepped boldly into the openness.
