One-shots [Reqs: 5]

[In A Bottle] Meeting The Fam

part two is finally here!! took me ages haha but it done :]

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"A soup kitchen? What is that?" Cross stuffed his feet in his shoes, pulling the laces tightly with a grunt before tying them. "s'food is what it is. You didn't think I had food in this dump, did you?" Beanstalk god-man didn't answer, only watching quietly, and Cross snorted. "Thought so." He tugged at his shoes, testing them, and rolled onto his feet, dusting himself off.

"Alright, octo senior-"

"What did you call me-"

"-got any more questions?" Cross sincerely hoped not. Bottle man shook his head, "None that require staying in one place."

"Great! Cuz I've got people to see and places to be."

Cross slung his backpack over his shoulder, working his arms through the straps and cinching them tightly. His phone buzzed in his pocket, chiming with that specific tone reserved for specific people, and he took it as his cue to open the door and nod to Nightmare. "Vamonos."

---

Cross stepped out of line, making for the clothes baskets. His stuff had been getting ratty lately, and he needed new stuff. If he got lucky, he'd find something that would fit. The ever-clueless all-knowing being follow after him with a disgusted look, Nightmare's nasal bone wrinkling with distaste. "What is this?" Cross glanced back, pausing his movements and lowering the shirt he'd been shaking out.

"What does it look like? I'm getting clothes." He held it up to his chest, musing over it. "That is extremely unsanitary," Nightmare grumbled as he watched the shirt get rolled up and crammed in the backpack. Cross shrugged, "This is how I get most of my shit, that's just how it is. Besides, this was just put out today, I gotta take my pick before all the good stuff gets taken."

Nightmare grimaced, "But you have no knowledge of their origins, they could be riddled with disease." Unbothered, Cross continued to test clothes, filling his bag to near capacity and answering absently. "With how long I've been on the streets, I'm probably immune to everything anyways- ooh, jackpot!" A small pile of socks, hidden under a horrendously bright pink scarf, was snatched up quickly and put away.

Cross grinned, finally stepping away from the large crates, bagging a hoodie. "Besides," he led Nightmare back to the much shorter line, "I'm gonna wash 'em." The rest of the trip went by in silence. In some ways, Nightmare was a blessing. His appearance meant more food, though it took some convincing. Soon, Cross was gleefully putting away all the food, excitedly speedwalking in a seemingly random direction, and Nightmare had no choice but to follow.

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The chain link fence towered over them both, multiple signs warning against trespassers scattered across it. Nightmare eyed one of the signs, uneasy at the image of a firearm. He'd rather not get shot while following some moronic child. Cross's backpack thumped down on the other side, a small cloud of dirt billowing around it and the coins inside giving muffled clinks. The fence rattled and Nightmare turned back to Cross, blinking.

The moral yanked on the fence a few times and flashed Nightmare a grin, lifting himself up with a grunt. "Don't mind the signs. The guard dog's been dead for years." With a skill born from years of practice, Cross scaled the fence quickly, reaching the top in a few beats. Nightmare's eye went wide, a burst of anxiety fluttering in his chest, but Cross had thrown his leg over the side and was on the other side before Nightmare could even do anything.

Thoroughly surprised and shocked, the god could do nothing but stare as Cross hopped down the rest of the way, bouncing on his toes and smiling widely. "C'mon, old man. It's not as hard as you think, promise." Nightmare glanced up at the top of the fence and then back to Cross, and narrowed his eye. Absolutely not.