LOUDERTALE
Arc 2 : Snowdin
Part 5.5 : 'Twere not fun times for everybody...
Author's Note : You thought it was the Papyrus fight...
BUT IT WAS ME, INTERLUDE !
Yeah, no big update this time, sorry. Last month's been pretty busy, and it's only going to get busier from here.
But don't worry, there will be at least one chapter this Summer. I owe you guys that, especially since this story just got recommended on TV Tropes ! Two Loud House stories from yours truly on the front page, baby !
So yeah, this is the promised interlude from back to the end of the Ruins Arc. There shall be one for each Arc, normally at the end, to see how the different friends of the Loud House are doing without our heroes around. I made an exception here, because it contains a scene that I really wanted to post in the last chapter, but got scrapped due to the more satisfying ending it now has.
Anywho, that's about it for now. I hope I can pick back my flow very soon, and finally get you the most Papyrus of all fights ! Fun ! But not too much...
Enjoy~
Loud House ? Undertale ? Not mine ! You can't prove nothin' ! George, they're onto us ! Get the Batmobile ! *Crashes through a window, 60's style*
Five days ago...
"I've got you now, you glorified expired clam !" exclaimed Ronnie-Anne, mashing buttons like no tomorrow on her controller. Only a couple more shots, and Gigagal would defeat the Ultra Whirlpool Mega Mech of Doom, and once again put an end to 's evil capillary plans. And then she would probably let him go once he'd say sorry, maybe pretending to mean it this time. At last, grey pixels flew everywhere, and chiptunes of victory filled the satisfied tomboy's room. "Aww yeah, I knew I could do it on Hard Mode ! Man, Lincoln is gonna be so jealous when I tell him..."
Her levity was short lived as her thoughts trailed off, and her joy slumped into a melancholic sigh. She let the credits roll as she fell face first on her lightning bolt-sheeted bed, and took a look around her room. Posters of her favourite skaters and movies, the small old TV Bobby had won at the fair for her that ran the Nyantendo that came with it, a couple of small dumbbells on a shelf, where her clothes were neatly arranged and folded. Not a single sock was out of place.
And right next to the dumbbells was a photo that wasn't helping her present state of mind at all. Which was a shame, because it usually never failed to make her bust a gut over it, followed by a tender smile. Her day at Dairy Land, mooching off a certain boy's season pass. Well, mooching off was a strong word. After all, it was her boyfriend who had insisted he shared it, and payed his own ticket. It had been a day filled with laughs, games, at least a dozen milkshakes, a hasty visit to the park's portable toilets, and finally, their ultimate stop. The Butter Melter. So much adrenaline, it came just this close to being declared illegal, except in Mississippi.
She had loved every second of it. The excited cheers she could see herself shouting, despite her hair being blown back like a wild raven curtain, certainly suggested that. He, on the other hand, had been a little mixed about it. And by mixed, she of course was referring to the mix of breakfast and lunch that was about to come out of his pinched lips, while his face had decided to go green. But he had been mighty courageous about it, only fainting once they'd get to the car, just because he wouldn't let her burden herself with him on her back.
That Lincoln sometimes, seriously. But hey, not too shabby for a second date, right ?
Ronnie-Anne contemplated the photo for a solid minute, then took her phone out for what had become her hourly check on her inbox. Well, hourly when she wasn't sleeping, or feeling really angsty about her current situation. Every time, she allowed a spark of hope in her mind, and every time it was snuffed out by the lack of an answer following all her messages.
"Urgh, where are you, Lincoln ?" moaned Ronnie-Anne, still without response. "What's so great about that stupid mountain that you can't find one dumb minute to call back ?" Her eyes widened, then squinted with a murderous glare. "Or maybe, it's someone..." Ronnie-Anne's hand quickly reacquainted itself with her forehead. "Get a hold of yourself ! Lincoln isn't that kind of guy, you know that !" She sighed morosely. "But he's also not the kind of guy who leaves me hanging."
Ronnie-Anne traced her finger across her phone a couple of times, viewing all the messages she'd left. The pleas, then the threats, then the demands, and finally the casual greetings. They all led to a single message, a simple 'G'night' that wasn't hers, with the dorkiest heart emoji possible written three times.
Three. Now there was a number that had been on her mind since she'd woken up this morning.
Three days ago. That had been the last time Lincoln had contacted her. Since then, nothing. No text, no picture, no nothing. She had tried contacting him multiple times, then tried contacting her entire family, right down to Lily's toy phone. Her voicemail was adorable, but it wasn't helping Ronnie-Anne's case. And at this point, she knew he wasn't snobbing her in particular. Clyde hadn't received anything either since that same moment, and he was his best buddy since kindergarten. Those guys were more of a couple than she was with her own boyfriend, smooching aside of course.
And the peak of her worries was, it was happening everywhere. Rusty had told her that his little brother wasn't receiving any of Lucy's 'midnight thoughts' as of late, a little tradition where the Loud poet would get a sudden burst of inspiration, and eagerly – Lucy-eagerly anyway – share it with the red-haired boy.
Margo, whom she had met at the skate park by chance, had also gotten squat from Lynn. Their texting sessions were more sporadic and way quicker, so she hadn't been worried. But ever since Ronnie-Anne had asked her to try, she'd been on the same boat of uneasiness.
An adorable little girl had come to the Santiago household, a giraffe plush tucked under her arm, to ask if she had gotten any whereabouts on her best friend, Lisa. She apparently kept in touch for 'upbates' on Lisa's last 'fi-findings' on the mountain's 'en...envirrrrronment', like cute plants and weird buggies. But as adorable and hopeful as she had been, Ronnie-Anne was forced to put a frown on her face, when she had to tell her that she was just as clueless as she was.
And then there was that weird emo girl that hung around the Loud House sometimes ? A friend of Luan, if Ronnie-Anne remembered, always looking like someone had stepped on her foot. Only now, that someone was apparently rolling on her toes in permanent motion.
But was that enough ? Were those the saddest reminders of this lack of news and communication from her white-haired special boy ? Ha ! She wished ! For there was one person whose levels of woe and uncertainty far surpassed hers.
And according to the door wistfully shutting close, he was back for his lunch break.
"Well, might as well see what he's up to ; see if he's getting better, or if he needs someone to pop the waffles inside the toaster for him again." Ronnie-Anne convinced herself to jump off her bed. She put on her slippers, and opened the door. Already the place reeked of the despair of a severe case of heartache. A smell she had been putting with for a few days as well.
With a sigh, she poked her head by the kitchen door, and saw the sad sack form of her big brother laying prone with his face planted on the small wooden table. "Need any help ?"
"Mmm..." moaned Bobby as a response.
"Do you need me to make your sandwich again ?"
"Mmmmmmmm..."
"Do you want salami in it ? And I don't speak fluently Mopese, so use English please."
Despite melancholy and gloom weighing his shoulders with the weight of a mountain, Bobby managed to lift his head a few millimeters above the surface of the table, just long enough to say "Yes please, Nie-Nie", before crashing back down to continue his brooding.
Ronnie-Anne grunted in dismay. Normally she would have shaken him like a palm tree until he'd snapped out of such a pathetic mindset, but not only had she already tried, the fact was, she could at least understand where the pain came from, and then some. She knew that whatever uneasiness she felt towards Lincoln's unresponsiveness, Lori's was resonating a hundredfold in her big bro's heart.
Bobby loved Lori, and Lori loved Bobby. Ever since they had officialised it, the sentence was no longer a mere statement, it was a fact of life. Water got you wet, jorts were an eternal no for everything, and Lori and Bobby loved eachother. Oh sure, there had been fallouts here and there, disagreements plaguing the present moment, and a couple of those that had carried on a little too over the bar. But the sweet core inside had never seen a spot of rotting on it, no siree ! Only when all the lights went out, could you see an hour pass without those two lovebirds billing and cooing with a sweetness so strong, it alone would guarantee that Dr. Feinstein's business would be booming.
But such a tight relationship and overbearing attachement weren't without their downsides. And when one half of the biscuit fell off from the other's radar, it wasn't pretty to watch.
Ever since Lori had gone a whole 24 hours without answering to her hubby's texts, he had been down into the funk of all funks. Every morning, he'd stand in the shower letting the water run for a full fifteen minutes, moaning all the while. At breakfast, he'd try shaping his scrambled eggs or waffles into the likeness of the face of his beloved, and teared up halfway. And at night, he would send a flurry of apologetic texts to her, thinking he had done something wrong, and promising her he would get her the moon, plus every satellite hanging around it if she could just give him a sign, a flimsy sparkle of hope.
He'd just become so depressed, the Morticians Club (High School Edition) had left a flyer under their door yesterday.
But that didn't mean Bobby couldn't think of his family. With as many jobs the young man had, he couldn't drag himself down to the point of getting sacked. So while on duty, the Santiago jack of all trades summoned every muscle in his body to keep a happy spirit going, and working just as hard as he had before, even harder in some cases. The Determination he was putting into this masquerade was admirable, but also kinda unhealthy. And that meant that as soon as he passed the threshold of his house, the happy mask wore off, revealing the broken man underneath.
And quite frankly, Ronnie-Anne was this close to be done with it. As she applied the salami on the bread slices, her mind was having a conversation towards higher forces. 'Look, if anyone's listening – anyone at all – I'd just like to say... I take it back. I take back everything I said about the lovey-dovey talk, the long smooches, the hours on the phone clogging the answerphone with sugary sweet mush. Give it all back, hit me with it like a runaway train, JUST... just get that goof to smile again. Please.'
Ronnie-Anne sprayed the mayo with a glum stare. All she was asking at this point was a little sign...
A buzzing sound shattered the silence of the kitchen. As he patted his jeans, Bobby realised it was his phone calling for, well, a call. He hesitated at first, afraid of the load of disappointement that another dud would provide him. But he went for it anyway, taking out the device to check its screen. And the name that appeared on the screen was enough to get, through a gasp, the first genuine burst of hope from the teen in days.
"It's Lori's parents !" he exclaimed mirthfully. Ronnie-Anne's mayo-covered knife slipped from the bread, as her eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. Could this be it ? The light in the dark she had been waiting for those achin' three days ? Rejoicing inside, she decided to keep her cool for now, wipe that goofy eager grin off her mug, and see how things played out. Still, it was nice to see the excitement renewed on her bro's expression as he swiped right to take the call. "Mrs Loud ! It is so good to hear from you again ! How's everyone ? How's Lori ?! Did her phone die ? Did I send too many texts ? Were there not enough kisses at the end ?! I can max out to 300 kisses if she likes !"
Ronnie-Anne had to hold back a snicker, as she watched the effects of the Lori-Bobby couple come in full force in the most hilarious way she knew. Then again, paranoia tended to hit hard in her own relationship, but it often came from the side that was not hers. She might even have used it to her advantage once, for giggles.
It was the craziest (and only (and last)) monthiaversary she and Lincoln had ever lived through.
But thoughts of a house-sized coconut-flavoured cake crashing down came to a halt when she noticed a certain distress coming back into the conversation. "Wait, what ? I-I didn't catch you there, Mrs Loud. What ? What ? Is Mr Loud nearby, what's going on ? I can't understand you either ! Are you going into a tunnel ? In a cave ? Woah !" Bobby had to get the phone away from his ear to avoid his eardrums being blasted into smithereens by a strident cry. But it was no shout of anger, or merry laughter, or even the static of a connection being lost.
It was a mournful wail. "Are you both... crying ?" Bobby asked delicately.
The ex-bully hitched her breath, and her knife stopped. It wasn't regular crying she had just heard. That had been the kind that followed a powerful sorrow, an intense heartbreak that only left you crying and crying without halt. That didn't sound promising. At all. Was the sign she had been craving for so long about to turn into the worst of omens ?
"Why are you crying ? What happened ?" Bobby carried on, with great worry gripping at his very soul, not only for his lover, but for his bro and a pack of cool gals as well. He blinked in slight confusion as he heard the voice through the receiver change. "Um, hello ? Yes ? I-I'm the boyfriend of Lori Loud. Yes, their eldest. Um, if you don't mind me asking, who are you ? Inspector ? As in, from the police ? Wait, why is the police involved ?! What's happening ?!"
Ronnie-Anne's trembling hand had let go of the knife. This couldn't be happening. That little suggestion in her head, that dreadful thought that germinated inside one night. It was just supposed to be a pillow thought, a silly notion caused by a whole lot of stress. It... It wasn't supposed to be real. It wasn't supposed to be real life ! And it certainly couldn't fall on their heads just like that ! Where were the signs before that ?! Was there a sign before that ?! No ! Absolutely not ! No sign at all, except...
Except...
Back when the whacky family had departed. When Lincoln and her had kissed for the last time. When she had seen the van drive into the sunset for the last time. When...
When she had made him swear to come back.
Her entire being was stiff. For a moment, she didn't even dare breathing. The only driving force that allowed her to slowly turn back was the unnatural silence on Bobby's end. His stream of questions had ended abruptly, and all that was heard was the sound of him falling back onto his chair.
And once Ronnie-Anne finished turning around, she could clearly see that he had done so with a ghastly white face, his mouth stuck into a mid-gasp, and his eyes giving off a haunted look of coming desperation, which he resumed in seven words.
"What do you mean they're all gone ?"
The mayo jar dropped and crashed against the kitchen floor in a thousand shards. Likewise, the Santiago sole daughter's heart made its own descent, and... you get the idea.
Back to 1216 Frankelin Avenue, where a lasting moment of peace graced its neighbourhood. The usually rambunctious household had been eerily quiet these last few days, and it was a blessing some of their neighbours were not about to pass. Good ol' Mr. Grouse was even taking a read outside for a change, and all he had to complain about was the sun, the clouds, and the ladybugs finding his sandals to be a nifty climbing spot.
But mind you, the inhabitants Loud House had not all gone away for the holidays. The entire menagerie was still up and running fierce. At the present moment, Charles and Geo were racing eachother through every room opened for them, Cliff was getting all tangled up with Leni's yarn balls, Walt was singing a duet with Hops, and so on. The ruckus was still there, but at least it was one the outer walls could mute.
And trying to reign them all, which mostly meant going with the flow, was the ever-devoted Clyde McBride. Two bumbags around his waist, and a resolution of steel were what carried the brave boy through the cacophony. Plus, the animals quickly took a liking to him.
"Fang ! I've got your 4'o clock fireflies ! With all your protein sprinkles !" called Clyde, sorting a pile of the dead insects from one of his bags' pockets. The bat lost no time in swiping down from the ceiling and engulfing them into his maw. "Don't forget to chew ! Now where is- Diablo ! Is that a bunny tail I see from that mouth of yours, mister ?!"
Lana's canidoia quickly slurped in the white pompom, and tried to give off an innocent smile despite his bloated cheeks. But Papa Bear wasn't having it.
"We talked about this. You are on a strict diet, Lana's orders. And not only is your dinner not for another three hours, we also agreed that we didn't eat eachother ! So spit that bunny, or so help me, you'll be spending movie night in your terrarium !" Clyde put his foot down like his Nana would when one of his fathers started sprouting nonsense.
El Diablo looked down in defeat, and spat out a dripping Gary, who didn't hesitate to kick the predetaor in the schnoz, then hopped along with his nose turned up in disdain.
"Not the resolution I was going for, but close enough." nodded Clyde, glad he had stopped a very bad decision in its early stages. Suddenly, a chill ran down his spine as he felt a sticky presence on his back, which he fished out in an instant. "Ah, Izzy, there you are ! It's your snack time too ! Open wide for the Ladybug to win the race !" When the lizard's tongue rolled around the flailing insect (Izzy preferred his preys alive) and gulped it in one go, that was Clyde's cue to release him to resume his exploration with a spirit that would do his owner proud.
Reviewing his special notebook, Clyde came to a simple conclusion. "That's all before 5 o'clock. Which means I've got an hour to breathe, and catch up on some well-deserved AARGH!..." his mannerism became somewhat coy, "... right after I go lay down a few minutes on Lori's bed. All those sessions, and her divine scent is still present within those sheets." he sighed dreamingly. However, before he could pass the door to the sacred sanctum of the love of his life, he caught the dry glances the animals were giving him, not to mention the camera. "What ? It's to build up a resistance, I swear ! I'm getting healthier you guys, and in the best way possible."
With the dellusion strongly engraved in his mind, Clyde disappeared inside the room, while the animals shook their head in dismay. One Dr. Lopez simply wasn't enough.
A few minutes later, the boy reappeared with a blissful look on his face, which he maintained through his descent to the living room, and sitting down on the couch. "Never gets old. It almost takes off your mind that your best buddy's gone AWOL for a full three days, along with every member of his family."
Problem was, you couldn't stress that 'almost' part enough. As soon as he reminisced himself that little detail, Clyde's bliss was quick to be shattered and trampled upon by a mound of a worry that had been gnawing at him ever since his texts had been left unanswered, and his calls delivered to a bland answerphone. Sounds familiar ? He had no other way of contacting Lincoln either, as his talkie-walkie didn't exactly have an interstate frequency, and he knew that if his pal wasn't picking up his phone to talk to him, he certainly wouldn't be reading his mails.
He could write of course, but that would leave him with even more days to worry his head off. And besides, no phone didn't mean he couldn't call the house's landline or Clyde's cellphone, both of which he knew the number by heart. Consarnit, they had even made a song about the last one ! It was cheesy, made them look like absolute doofuses, and Clyde was starting to dearly miss singing it !
"I just don't get it. Why won't they call ? Having too much fun is not an excuse to be rude !" pouted Clyde. But knowing the boy, he wasn't angry at them as much as he was greatly worried for them. For her. And first and foremost, for him. Clincoln Mcloud may only have eight years to back its legacy, but it was one that resonated in all the good ways. They were like two peas in a pod, compadres till the end, tied by the sacred brotherhood of Ace Savvy.
Clyde knew people thought he was playing second fiddle to Lincoln's style. The Loud boy was the one who dared the impossible each day, who could work up a plan of action and found the flicker of a beacon of hope when lost in an ocean of chaos. Even when defeat seemed to be the only way out, he always knew how to minimize the damages, walk into it with his head high, and above all, he was ready to take as much heat as he could if it meant sparing someone he cared about from it. That was Clyde's version of the facts, and he was sticking to them.
Clyde, in comparaison, was much more reserved, and delicate. Having been nurtured and watched over like a Ming vase was certainly an explanation for this, compared to Lincoln, who had known the terrors of a wrathful Lori ever since he was four, and lived to tell every story, except for her tenth birthday party. He couldn't even look at that beautiful nymph without his brain busting a fuse, while Lincoln already was arm in arm with someone, and the toughest girl of the block no less !
But that was fine with Clyde. When the girl-he-couldn't-even-name wasn't involved, he was the careful one. The listener, the one that followed and advised, to get his overeager or overstressed friend safely back on the firm ground. And when times were desperate, he was just as quick to jump into the fray with the fierceness of an awakened tiger, and the dexterity of a Swords & Cyborgs National Champ.
So who cared what those people thought of him and his weird tendencies ? He was a growing boy, a friend to many, and an equal to Lincoln. That's all that mattered.
Which only rubbed the mark of his absence even deeper under his skin. And just before he could finally get the news about that famous entrance too ! 'The Maw of Mount Ebott', one of the greatest not-so-urban legends that had been circulating for years amongst the true passionates of the paranormal. The central source of so many stories, of those strange disappearances, atop a mountain whose cliffs were bizarre in their own right. Finally, Lincoln had gotten the opportunity to see it for himself, but the day he was supposed to tell him everything, all lines fell quiet.
Barren silence. From the moment he was supposed to catch the sight of a cavern from which none who enters return. Of course, Lincoln knew that, thus he would never go in. But Clyde couldn't fight that churning feeling raging inside his stomach.
"Are you okay, buddy ?" the boy asked softly, as if the wind passing through the boards of the house would carry his message. And just like before, no answer.
But the Loud pets heard him and felt his distress, which added to their own. They quickly joined the sighing boy on the couch, snuggling around his prone form or perching themselves on the backrest, as they purred, hissed, or croaked to make him feel better. And it was working, at least a little bit, if Clyde's small smile was any indication.
"Thanks guys. You must be worried too, I bet." said Clyde as he patted Charles' head. The menagerie whimpered in agreement at his claims, especially Lana's friends. The little tomboy always called to wish them a good night, always. No super fun resort or mountain of doom could change that. Could it ?
"You know what ? It's only a matter of time before they call." Clyde reassured further. "I'm sure that tonight, they'll call to apologise, and say that they've gotten themselves into some crazy stuff with the resort staff, or a grizzli bear or something. I've heard they have ones that can smell any dog in a mile radius !" Charles yipped in high alert, and Clyde chuckled. "I mean the franks, Charles. But whatever is keeping them, we'll get news soon, I'm sure of it."
Fang shivered at that. And he was quite acquainted with bad omens.
Immediately, Clyde's phone rang. The little rock tune he had associated with the number told him that a certain ex-bully and now-girlfriend was calling him. The McBride boy grinned, as he could use a friendly voice, and certainly one who could empathise with his current anxiety. "Hi Ronnie-Anne, what's shakin' ?" But his confident smile quickly fell when he heard a sound almost alien when tying it to the bold-spirited girl. "Ronnie-Anne ? Are you crying ? You are ?!" The fact she was crying was already troubling, but the fact that she was admitting it so openly sent a field of red flags blazing ahead of him. And he had a feeling... that those red flags had to do with a mutual friend.
Taking a shuddering breath, as Dr. Lopez always advised, Clyde pleaded her to continue. "Tell me everything that happened."
The boy would listen. He would listen until the end. Never mind the blank stare set on the face of frozen despair he'd project, he was soaking every word like a sponge. And when too wet, a sponge had to release some of its humidity, for the good of its body.
A fact Howard and Harold would be reminded of when, after not answering to their 5 o'clock reassurance call, they would rush to the Loud House to find their baby boy curled in a ball in the middle of the living room, wrecked with sobs of grief, and all the pets around him howling in every way they could for their lost masters.
It had been a rockin' good day for one blue streak haired Sam Sharp. Ever since the first rays of sunlight poured through her blinds, signaling her that it was already 10 o'clock, things had been great.
Perfect morning hair when she had looked in the mirror. She'd beaten her brother Simon to the pancake platter, and drowned them in blueberry jam. Her artist block had finally receded too, allowing her to get just the melody she had been looking for, after days of going through random playlists, to the point of, shudder, polka. Accordion ? Not with her, it didn't.
For lunch, her father had busted up some mouth-watering chili dogs, with his twist on the famous recipe. The secret ingredient was a mystery as old as the moldy spot in the Sharps' attic, but Sam didn't let it bother her in the slightest, as she guzzled down her third dog. That was when the day went from good to great.
And what better way to ride that wave than to go for a good ol' jam session in Victor's garage ? With his parents gone for the day, the teens got to amp it up to eleven and a half, though Mrs. Jenkins from next door and her cats may not like it as much as they did. Sam was shredding the guitar, while Vic smoothed it with passionate lyrics, and Maddie was letting those bangs flow and shake to the rhythm of each hit on her drumming set. Eventually, even Tabby had joined them for the ride on her customised synth. The kid was young, but she had the spirit of the rocking forefathers themselves. The atmosphere was electric, and the ground was shaking from their vibes. It was addictive. It was sweet madness. It was perfect.
Well, almost perfect, for their lead guitarist and main ambience spark was unaccounted for. A brunette who could give to a retirement home the energy of a full-bown concert, and whose unbridled passion had inspired more than one peep to join her on the open road of rock'n'roll. Including Sam. Seeing Luna on that stage for the eighth grade talent show, going all out just because she could, not even caring if she hit a wrong note here and there.
And by Mick's smelly tatters of jeans, had she looked stunning too. Every day after that, Sam had been utterly graced to discover one more thing that was great about her. Her button nose, the way her voice cracked when she laughed with delight, and the other when she did it out of nervousness. And when she used that accent – Borneo Wild Man helped her ! – she just wanted to melt on the spot, then regain form so she could pounce and cover those cute freckles with a hurricane of smooches !
But she didn't. Because that would be weird. No stage, no matter how wild, could make pouncing then smooching someone not weird.
But despite her absence, Sam had learned to cope. She wasn't on permanent surveillance, nor was she dedicating a friggin' shrine to Luna, only a gallery on her phone. Which wasn't weird at all ! She just liked her a little more than a friend. More than a little more really, but she could handle being away from her for a week or two. If she herself was having a good time, and she knew the loudest of the Louds was having a good time, then why be biting her nails to the bone about it ?
"Missing ?"
"Yeah dude, missing. The whole pack."
'That's one extremely good reason', a small part of Sam's mind tried to note through the deafening echo of the news Maddie had just brought, effectively shattering the relaxed ambiance of their short break. Even the CD player had stopped playing its groovy tunes.
"Woah woah, hold the pick right there !" rose Tabby with bewilderment, the news not connecting well with her at the moment. "Mad's, whaddja mean, 'missing' ? They can't be going missin' ! Those guys could rise the dead with their afternoon activities alone ! And I mean it, Haiku's told me some crazy stuff !"
"Tabs, chill." quipped Victor.
"Chill ?!" the youngest member reached the high notes. "I'm like an ice cube at bleedin' Woodstock !"
"Tabby. Chill." Victor echoed more firmly, waiting patiently for Tabby to hinder her hyperventilating, before turning back to an uneasy Maddie. "Okay, play this by us again. What happened ?"
"Okay, so you know Luna and her fam' are on that vacation her little bro won ? Tabby, you remember him, right ? The one you went to the dance with ? The young but old Hetfield ?" Tabby nodded shakily. "They headed all the way down to northern Louisianna, and got to stay at the fanciest hotel there. But one day, they all went to scale the star attraction of the place : Mount Ebott."
"Ebott ?" Sam faintly repeated, a little bit of history gleaned on the net coming back to her. "As in... the mountain with all the rumours of kids disappearing ?"
The room only got colder when Maddie approved the bit with a slow, shaky nod. "That was three days ago. Three days since Lunstar posted anything on her wall. And this morning, Beth sent me a link." She showed her phone to everybody, and her voice began to crack. "The main page of the Louisianna Police website."
'HAVE YOU SEEN THOSE KIDS ? Eleven kids are reported missing around Mount Ebott since Monday. Ages range from 18 months to 17 years old. If you've got any informations on their whereabouts, contact the...'
But they didn't scroll through the screen to see that number, they didn't care. All the young spirits of rock could see was a family picture, of the whole Loud pack sitting on the stairs down their front porch. And in the top right corner, their missing friend was there, flashing her classic chill smile. So chill, it almost froze the tears that were starting to descend down their cheeks.
"No..." mouthed Tabby with a trembling lip, and her tone as cracked as an eggshell could become under the thought of her lost idol drilling inside her head and heart. When it reached the core, sparks flew, and flew fast. "NO ! She can't be lost, not her ! Damn it ! I bet those guys aren't even searching right ! Forget the session and those crummy coppers, I'll go find her myself- !"
"Sweetie ?" said Maddie, stopping Tabby in her insane derailling. She gave the older girl a wild stare, looking ready to claw at something, anything out of rage. But the look she could see behind all those bangs immediately tamed her back to reality. "You're riding straight into the danger zone. Stay chill, okay ?"
The compassionate tone underlined by the sadness cloaking it was all it took for the aggressive puma to turn back into the scared little girl underneath. "I... I just want them to be okay !" sobbed Tabby, as she crashed into Maddie and buried her head into her midsection. The teen could only wave through her spiky hair while she held back sorrowful tears of her own.
Victor rubbed his misty eyelids tiredly. Too thing that a single phone screen could dampen a whole afternoon of joy and passion so fast, tear at its seams before he could say Get Back. He knew the Highway to Hell was an easy road to swerve onto, but it apparently could seize the moment out of nowhere too. Too much sunshine can wilt the green luxious plains, into a portrait of dying nature. 'Yeesh. I sound like the Emo table at the ref' he mumbled through his thoughts, as he tried to not let Tabby's sad lyrics get to him any more than it already had.
But when he looked behind him, the backstage looked even worst. Sam had crashed back on her beanbag, and had not moved since then. She was a sorry sight for sure, not openly sobbing, but instead letting the tears trail along her cheeks without so much as a hiccup. Her hands kept shaking, her breathing was almost inaudible, and the shellshocked look she now sported was thousands of yards away in the distance, desperately looking high and low for the sound of that sweet British accent to grace her ears again.
"Sam ? You... okay there ?" asked Victor with great concern, which didn't wane through the lost stare she turned to him.
Because if Sam looked broken on the outside, she was downright shattered inside. 'Since monday', had said the missing person appeal. That meant that three days ago, her friend had gone missing, disappeared from the surface of the earth as far as anyone was aware. Gone. Poof. Out of this world. And she had spent those three days blissfully unaware, singing and laughing like nothing was ever wrong. She hadn't felt anything, any smidge of worry at all. None of that extrasensorial feeling between... people who were more than friends. She didn't care if this was movie stuff, there should have been something, an uncomfortable nudge at least !
And that called for the question : Was it all a lie ? Was that feeling that had shaken her heart every time their eyes met all a big sham ? Was staying awake at ludicrously late hours of the night trying to figure just the right lyrics to catch her fancy just meant she was being extra chummy, and nothing else ? Pals to the end, best friends in the whole wide world, end of the sentence ! That seemed to be what, deep inside, Sam Sharp desired to be with the brightest star she had ever seen.
Sam wasn't sure of how she felt about her, she had never been sure. And now, chances were, she would never be.
Sam had nothing to envy from the loudest of Louds, for she could match her passion in every way, blowing the roof off any room, even without the right audience to boot. But when it came to saying it, the party suddenly fell as quiet as the grave. It was all her fault then. She hadn't taken the first step, and now there was no road to trail onto, no encore. The curtain had fallen, just like her tears would keep falling, and the tip of her tongue was doomed to keep burning forever, burning with all the compressed molten lava of an agonizingly tedious, yet oh so simple little truth.
Three words only.
Royal Woods hadn't welcomed the Louds by some magic chance. No power of the SOUL had drawn them here, the spirit of the town was simply as boisterous as they were. Informations spreaded fast in the streets, new facts resonating under every roof like a massive hallway. Not all facts of course, but when their loudest element was reported to have gone missing, a wildfire had nothing on that kind of quick spreading.
Royal Woods had seen many ups and downs through the big family's antics. On its normal days, it prefered to remember the many times they had lead their establishments and chocolate shops a merry and hectic dance. The Loud bunch was a wild card, they could become a twister of chaos at a moment's notice, and too few were the ones that had learned to appreciate the storm at its most destructive.
But on this grave hour, the city instead remembered the changes they had not forced, but given to town, the opportunities they had risen, and the friendships they had tied. For at this moment, the town was grieving these very people. Friends, teachers, crushes, bitter old coots... and a single grandpa as well, sitting by the window of his room as the sunset shone in. An orange glow bathed the picture of a fond family trip he had taken with his wonderful grandkids. He took a long mournful look at it, and with it, coming to terms that this could have been the last time he'd get to ever experience those wonderful times.
Loved ones disappearing at the drop of a hat. He had lived it before. His battalion. His commander-in-chief, who had taught him all the ropes. His best pals from High School. Eglantine.
He hadn't been ready the first time, as a soldier. He hadn't been ready any time after that, as a lonely husband. And he wasn't any more ready now, as a loving grandpa.
That night, Royal Woods grieved. But deep down, Royal Woods hoped. They hoped that wherever the chaotic siblinghood who had made the city that much more colourful were presently, they were safe. They would one day safely return, and above all, they would let nothing stand between them and their way back home.
That night... Royal Woods was Determined to see the Louds again.
And also that they have all the pies they could eat to survive in the wild. But that was merely wishful thinking from an adorable little girl, and her giraffe companion.
…
Back to the present, Snowdin Inn...
The innkeeper hadn't lied. The snowstorm outside was coming down hard. Despite the expert craftmanship, the windows still faintly rattled with the gallons of snowflakes being thrown against them like a rain of pebbles. Which was quite a feat for a middle of July.
But at this late hour, not even Lisa and her thirst for knowledge were awake to question the true source of the frozen precipitations.
Instead, the little genius kept mumbling scattered lines of her future speech to the United Nations about 'Magic, and its science' in-between sucks of her little thumb, and trying her hardest to ignore the hundred of bad puns the other members kept trying to play on her, as well as the one who kept selling fried snow cones and grilled popsicles in the background. The last two parts were mostly due to the comedienne she was sharing her mattress with, who kept sleep-joking eight puns-a-minute with the daffiest of smiles.
Lynn and Lucy shared another of course, snoring in enigmatic harmony as one imagined herself as a street fighter (dual red belts and all) beating the living tar out of a buffer and even grosser Jerry with her Tough Glove – rebranded (Rudy) – and just about to tussle with the mysterious Captain of the Fallen Angelz ; while the other appreciated a nice quiet moment in the cemetery, grey clouds complimenting the rows of dead trees and cawing crows quite nicely, while a dismal vampire and a gloomy spirit held her hand, and listened for all she had to say.
On the third floor-sleeper set, Luna found no mountain or barrier preventing her from reaching the stars, her music blasting around the whole world as her audience, and singing a duet with her idol while all her friends manned up the many instruments. The girl powering the complementary guitar was particularly nice.
What about the sole brother resting comfortably in her arms ? Patience, little reader. Patience.
Lana had made the end of the bed her territory once more, tucked in the same position as would be the furry companions that were rolling around in fields of luxurious grass, mucky pits, and beef jerky slides with her. The unusually large frame of the bed came as a blessing for the other sisters' feet to be salvaged from the oodles of drool pouring out of the little tomboy's maw.
And as for those few snoozing under the bedsheets, the decision over who sleeps where had been easy, but stringent, all in accord with the Protocole : Leni and Lola were to be separated by someone, namely the cyan-hearted duo, who were deemed able to break any fight with a stare that could either burn through your SOUL, or melt it out of adorable guilt.
Here, dreams were as snug and soft as the girls felt. Lily rode on through the land of happy singing monsters with Mr. Snuggles (her teddy) and Captain Momster at the helm of their peppermint spaceship ; Lori enjoyed a spot of relaxing tea with Goat Mom, not unlike those they had enjoyed before, except with Sans as a perfectly-obedient stewart ; and Lola kept crusin' with the coolest and fashionest snowchild in town. With some iceblock abs that would sooner make her melt faster than the chocolate seats of their hot pink motorbike.
But the left edge of the bed had no such happy fantasy or content smile to be found. Instead, poor Leni was left tossing and whimpering. Murmurs of apologies kept escaping her lips, some for her recent blunders, others for not-so-recent ones, but most of them for crimes she had never commited or would think of commiting in her lifetime, yet was judged guilty all the same, and sentenced to where all bad things, threads, and dangerous pin cushions go : the garbage can.
One silver lining though, the can was proving to be quite friendly.
Leni's self-inflicting nightmare only seemed to get worst with time, to the point of tears drowning her pillow. Until, almost unconciously, Lily's pudgy hand caught one of Leni's fingers, and guided all five of them to meet Lori's. In an instant, the thrashing had stopped, but the weeping girl kept begging for forgiveness she didn't need.
A small green light began to beat under the covers, a beacon of distress for a SOUL's plight for an easy mind, if only for tonight. It called out in the darkness... and somebody came. Two little lights next to it answered her call, and one by one, eight others joined in a soothing heartbeat symphony. Slowly but surely, the green apparition synched itself with the rhythm, and Leni joined the zenlike flow with a smile of relief, as her dream self finally grasped the orange mitten pulling her out of the rubbish, and let dazzling bone-pearly whites sweeping the darkness away, to find the monster of her dreams.
Their job done, the lights dwindled away for the shade of the night to return, and let the peaceful, but still Loud, silence take its rightful place. The room stood still as a picture of harmonious siblinghood, that could definitively give a caze of the fuzzies to any creature with a heart or SOUL, even if they claimed them to not exist.
…
The bathroom door creaked open. A head peaked from the small opening.
Had one of the souls currently resting had been awake, his white pupils would have betrayed his presence in the dead of the night. And his bobbing petals would have betrayed his identity.
He took a moment to enjoy the scenery, for it truly reflected what most of his daily entertainment had been today.
Quiet, dull, and so sappy it had nearly made him hurl his lunch twice. And when you were gutless, that spoke volumes.
And the afternoon had begun so well. That first take on their battle with that old hag. Oh the tears, the hopelessness, everything they stood for crumbling apart in a few minutes, and not getting up. Served those little cretins right.
Then the reboot came out, and friendship pellets were rapidly thrown at the screen.
But then, they got to have a little reunion afterwards. Just them and their best pal in the whole narrow world. They had played so many fun games ! And educative too ! He had taught them all the ropes, gave a little more sense to the world he tolerated them into. In return, all he could ask for was a good deal of frozen terror, wrapped up in a neat little package of doubt and anxiety that would plague them forever, all on the house.
And he had gotten that result. But the delivery was done with an abundance of rebellious hope our little stalker wasn't very cool with. 0/11 stars, really wanted to wipe that smile off their faces. And the rest of the faces too.
A pacifist oath. A pacifist oath. He had laughed so hard when he had seen them act out their little script straight out of schoolgrounds. But then, his laughing fit was cut short, when he got to remember the old days. The very old days. When he still thought ethics and morals were good for something. When he still thought he could care.
That had been the moment when it became clear : this was going to be a long, dreary afternoon.
Down that line, he had been given the privilege of watching those humans play in the snow, hug the trees, and give friendship bracelets to every monster they had met. Petting useless guards, helping old ladies, guiding lost youths back on track towards a healthier lifestyle ? Urgh, were they on a quest to regain Surface Sweet Surface, or were they aiming at sickening him as much as monsterly possible ?
And that was it ! The whole day, encounter after encounter, without a single Load ! What part of 'You have the power to make yourself an entire wardrobe for all of you out of their dust, and still come out with your hands smelling lavender' did he not make clear enough.
On another hand, he could admit finding the whole thing entertaining enough to get a chuckle out of him then and again. It was straight out of those cartoons that Pathetic Geek had laying around her poor excuse of a lab, but not the cringely absurd ones. The simple, violent, and fun ones. But admitting it only made him madder !
And so was seeing them rubbing elbows with those two brothers. From Day 1 in the Ruins, he had a feeling that they'd get along with Papyrus just fine. They were every bit as loony as that man-child in a cape. Trashbag on the other hand, that had been a harder thing for him to believe. But anything to save up the appearances, eh ?
That dirty windbag wasn't as different from him as he claimed to be. And neither were those little 'Pacifists'.
That little pact won't last, he knew it. Already, they were making a fine perjury on that team effort clause, by progressively getting rid of their weak link. Only the strong prevail. The weak lose it all, their heads last. That was how the world worked. His World.
He could see it now. Papyrus would most likely stand in their way one last time. And he couldn't exactly call him weak. Weak-minded, sure, there wasn't enough shiny crystals in the ceiling to count how many times that oaf had made his demise easy as breaking a chicken bone. But the guy had moves and techniques that made the little flower very thankful for that mindset of his. Especially his new finishing move...
Hmmm, but perhaps he'd take down one of the humans by accident ? Ooh ooh, maybe that Airhead with the massive crush on him ! That would be rich ! To see his good spirits crumble along with her green SOUL simply swore to be a shoe-in for the scrapbook~!
But eh, that was only wishful thinking. They would most likely win that idiot over, and easily so. But that meant jumping out of Snowdin, and straight into Waterfall. The Captain would be waiting for them. And boy, you did not win her affection or her mercy by being little goody two-shoes. Especially when she had the possibility to save monsterkind by ramming a spear through your head.
And if by some miracle, and no normal miracle, they could get past her staggering strength and impenetrable will to serve those she vowed to protect, well...
The Royal Guard always answered to the KING.
Tomorrow was another day, they said. But he simply couldn't wait to find out just how many times that would still apply in their case.
At least once, unfortunately. So yes, may they sleep serenely for now. May they let the dreams lull and cradle their precious little selves them throughout the night. Because sooner or later, in the real world, they would have to accept that their little fantasy had an ending. An ending only he knew was going to unfold. An ending they couldn't run from, no matter how many times they tried to go around it.
The ending he was promised, at the peak of his eternal glory. Only a little while longer...
…
…
But... did he really have to wait ?
Taking another peek by the door, he realised how quiet they all were when they slept. Back when they were staying Mother Goat's little cottage, he hadn't risked going in, as he knew her freaky maternal powers would have triggered her awake in a second. And without his trusty SAVE file, he wasn't really looking forward to being burnt to a 100% natural crisp again. He knew firsthand how terrifying she could be when she went into Mama Bear mode.
What a sight to take in. How still they looked, how peaceful. How... vulnerable.
For his plan to work out, he needed them to meet that old fool in some form, dead or alive, so he could unveil the last set of toys he hadn't gotten his vines on, and the most mouth-watering at that. No matter how sweet he had appeared, or how many threats he had thrown at that sniveling excuse for a king, those precious little hearts had never appeared before his eyes.
So, had there been one final human to wander through the Underground, he just would had to follow that sucker, and wait for it to be reunited with the six others. But there was the thing, wasn't it ? He only needed seven. Seven to become an entity capable of feats beyond even his wildest fantasies, and not even the sky would be a limit to his unfathomable power.
And lookie here. Not one, not two, not even seven. But ELEVEN little cores, with their owners fast asleep and completely oblivious to his presence. How had he missed such a golden opportunity when opening the door, this all-you-can-devour buffet waiting for him to consume it all ?! Frankly, he didn't know whether to explose in a burst of cackles, or to bang his head against the wall for a few minutes, but decided against both options since it would most likely rise the humans from their slumber.
And wasn't he on a roll right now, he could see all their little necks exposed. Yes, a quick slice to the throat. Fast, stealthy, and painless. Oh, how he wished he could toy with them for a little bit, fill the room with their screams of terror and broken sobs, but this was no time to be picky. Now was the time for the best midnight snack the world had ever known, and would ever know.
As his vines crept along the carpeting, his first victim was already set for her operation. An easy choice, really. Let's see that little clown tell her jokes with a huge gash in her trachea. Who'd miss those ?
She always was a pain in the neck anyway.
But seconds before the deadly thorns reached her prone form, they stopped.
That sensation. That crippling dread. The oppressive feeling of always being watched.
And that obnoxious chill down his stem.
He looked at the window. And it looked back.
A cyan circle, shining dim through the snowstorm. It was watching, judging his very thoughts. And it dared him to finish his little magic trick.
The vine moved. A single bone bloomed out of the floor, and singed it away.
The peeper's mind was now set ablaze with fury. Him. Always him. Of all the times he could get on his case, it was the moment everyone was sleeping. And so should he ! There was no scientific explanation for him waking up in the morning ! He was the very definition of a slob, everybody knew that !
But they didn't know him. Not as well as he did.
Why was he here ?! Why would he be protecting...
… That meddling old grandma !
So that was it, huh ? The so-called 'non-carer' acts out his little crush ? To think this guy was his biggest threat, it was driving him up the wall ! Why, he should go for the offensive ! Take those pathetic sacks of meat as hostages, and tear them apart one by one-
The eye flashed once. One warning. No first warning.
There never was a second one.
… Fine. He'd retreat. For now. The night was theirs to enjoy.
Those kids had their insane luck up and still running smoothly. But the Underground was such a small world once you saw it all. Soon, there would be no place for them to run. Only a golden wall would stand on their path. And at that moment ?
He'd relish watching their little legs be BURNT TO ASHES.
The bathroom door closed all on its own.
The snowflakes kept tapping against the window, alone.
And Luna's sleeping grimace finally morphed back to a relaxing smile. For someone in her dreamscape had finally decided to stop those red lasers from blaring against her eyes. The stinging felt so real though...
Author's Note : Boom ! Hope that will content you through the first part of the summer. Again, sorry for it being so short this time around. Next time, exploration and smooth skeletons a-plenty, I swear it !
Also, many more thanks to Petrus-c-Visagie for my new avatar picture, and this fic's as well ! And many thanks to y'all for putting this fic all the way on TvTropes ! I've got two names there now ! Le fame ! It's real !
One day, Minijen. One day...
In the meantime, this is Superdimentio77, encouraging you to have a great time this Summer ! And for those new Loud House episodes to (FINALLY) come out soon. See ya~ !