[MP:2022] And why did nobody tell us anything
waking up to fog was to be expected when living on an island in the middle of the ocean, doesn’t mean that its morning presence didn’t frustrate Spam to the Depths and back. A foggy morning was an unproductive morning, and an unproductive morning was an unprofitable one.
“Go back to sleep you melodramatic businessman, the sun hasn’t even risen yet and I can see you glaring out the window.” Looking up at the voice behind him and absolutely not glaring.
“Maybe i would if i didnt have you looking like a monster that just crawled straight from the depth looking at me in the dark.”
“I can fix that problem” Before Spam can realize what was even said, his vision is filled with a mock sunset.
“I hate you.” He quickly gets up to get the offending hair out of face as clover snorts.
“Only because its almost two days since you slept, im going back to bed. Have fun doing, whatever it is you do at five in the morning.” Clover bops Spam on the head one last time before trudging back to bed.
Clover was lying! he had only been up for a grand total of 27 hours exactly, he can last longer. Sometimes he just forgets to sleep, then it’s the next day. Can’t be wasting precious daylight hours by sleeping through them!
Deciding that he was most definitely not going to bed. He goes down the stairs into the shop portion of the building. There was plenty of various items newer and older scattered around, even a small section of books, even if mostly ruined. He tidies up the shelves from the day prior waiting for the sun to rise so stax will come in.
Or thats what he HAD thought but no one was coming in, It had been a couple hours past sunrise he was sure, his internal clock was never wrong! Someone usually comes in by now, even if just to see what’s in the store. Maybe they had noticed that he hadn’t left this morning so there wouldn’t be anything new. No that’s a stupid thought.
He goes to look outside for the first time in hours to keep himself from overthinking, again. Opening the front door to see… that the fog is still there. it was past noon and the fog was as strong as ever. If anything the fog had gotten worse than it was early in the morning. The fog was so dense a clamber could be standing right next to him and he wouldn’t even notice.
“Ah, so that’s why theres been a total lack of, anyone.”
—
Sometimes stax wake up to the sun rising, or maybe an alarm of sorts. Spam was one of the many lucky staxies to be woken up by the LOUD AS HELL BANGING. The second he decides to join the rest of the world and sleep at a decent time some FUCKER ruins it, great.
Sleep deprived and with no care for whatever his actions bring forth. He walks over to the window closest to the stone road outside, unlatching the lock and takes a deep breath.
“WHO-”...
Nothing. There's nothing there, even with the fog he thought he’d be able to see something moving outside. Nope, just a foggy night and a horrible stench. Oh how did he only just now notice that Depth. An empty street with the same smell as if Staves Peak was about to blow again. How inviting. That is something for tomorrow Spam to worry about though, he’s too tired to deal with this.
Hopefully it ISN’T staves peak blowing its top off again, even if it never really, finished exploding during weemstide. The banging didn’t really sound like the tremors or loud booming from before it’s probably fine. Probably.
Closing and locking the window to make sure, whatever’s out there, doesn’t get in. Spam heads back to his bed. Monster or Volcano be damned if he’s going to be forced to take a curfew he’s going to get all 8 hours of sleep.
__
He could take that monster in a fight he thinks, if not at least he’d be out of the cramped stumphouse. Stupid monster, stupid FOG. Oh he’s about to commit to learning air magic if he could clear this insufferable fog. Might as well start now with the limited things to do in this place.
At Least, he would if he wasn’t on stump watching duty. Clover had gone off to gather information about what was going on from people she knew, which left him holding a very sleepy Cursor. Said stump was currently finding the weirdest possible positions to sleep in, so spam was holding her head up, the silly thing.
Speaking of, here comes the purple menace. Clover was so long that he kind of looked like a weem trying to get through the sea of staxies, knowing her though she’d take that as a compliment. He loves the silly things.
“Soo, any good gossip on whatever’s happening.” He nearly shouts in their direction, without thinking. Which maybe, definitely wasn’t the best thing it could’ve done, because now half the room was looking at him.
Clover gives Spam a deadpan expression as they navigate the room crowded with various staxies to get to their little spot they claimed. Said spot being a disorganized pile of things they brought from home, consisting of mostly things like blankets.
Clover coils himself in the corner before answering in a quiet tone.
“The best I could get from the stax I know is there’s probably more than one monster, the fog is probably magical and even more stax have gone missing.” They sigh and bury their face in the blanket they’re sitting on.
“Lots of us have been been left in the dark and anyone who hasn’t doesn’t seem too keen on sharing for fear of getting in trouble. A lot of conflicting information.”
“So” Spam starts, “they’re putting us all in one location, with little visibility and lots of stax knowing barely anything, which would make panic easy. Wonderful.”
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As much as he wanted to leave with the crowd he saw earlier there were a couple of problems. One he REALLY didn’t feel like getting in trouble with either quetzal or Gayley, neither really liked him much. Two If he were to leave right now he’d have to convince Clover and Cursor to sneak out with him.
Clover is about as stubborn as they are long, no way they’ll sneak out after being warned so many times. Which, in his defense so was Spam. He’s not going to admit that out loud though.
Bored, looking around the room, he can see a couple of stumps in a circle playing uno. Using one of their asleep, assumed friends as a table.
Multiple staxies on fire trying to order their colors in the order of a rainbow. Others are notably staying away from the group, either because they’re literally on fire or because they don’t want to catch the flu. Could be either honestly.
Some pink dude on a skateboard? By themself, in the corner. Huh. What a sick guy.
As well as a group of stax all glaring at quetzal from across the room, probably the people he had heard snuck out earlier. Notably missing that little librarian.
His thinking is interrupted by a little paw smacking him in the face. Cursor is staring him down with no indication of what she wants, just full of baby rage. He looks at him, looks at the group of stumps from earlier, then gets off him and wanders towards the group of uno stumps.
Cursor walks straight over the the little friend group and watched them for a while until they eventually just let her join in. Wow he wishes he had those kind of social skills as a stump.
Kids are weird, he’ll never understand what’s going on in their little heads. Even if it’s his kid, finders keepers after all.
“Hey money boy.” Once again shaken from his thought, except this time it’s a much bigger paw. Literally shaking him.
“That’s not my name you drowned tabogii.” Clover gives him a look, a very amused look.
“HEY, that’s not my nickname it’s yours, I am built for the water.” Not his fault he was still getting used to having so much damn fur and a bigger body.
“We all are, anyway what did you want Leo.”
“We should go ask if there’s a possibility Cursor has any family, just in case you know.”
“I know in theory we should, but who leaves an egg past the net gate. They had to have purposely done it, it’s a good thing staxie eggs float.”
“Also It might not be the, best time, to go asking about ‘missing parents’.” It had found it a couple weeks before the stupid fog set in.
“Fair enough, we should still ask eventually though.” Clover gives him a last look he can’t really read before going back to their napping position.