MCYT RANDOMNESS 2

Princess Cub pt3

My stomach drops as Scar reveals the bright pink dress on the armour stand behind him. It’s too small. It looks awful. The fabric looks rough, itchy.

I try to protest, but nothing comes out of my mouth. Scar continues talking about the dress, but I already know he spent hours and hours on it. And I have no other outfit to wear.

‘Wear it, wear it Cub!’ Scott demands, voice high pitched, grabbing my shoulders and forces me towards that dress. I look over and see his eyes white, grinning. ‘Obey us, Cub. Obey. Wear it. We say wear it.’ I can’t fight back. I still can’t speak. Scar and Scott laugh.

‘Wear it! Wear it!’ Scar starts chanting, with a terrifying high-pitched vex voice. And the next moment I’m in the dress. And it’s tighter than I even imagined, digging deep against my neck, my scars, my wrists. And all the hermits, all the Lifers, everyone I’ve ever met is there, watching me from where I stand, unable to move, on a stage in the middle of them. I try to scream. I can’t breathe. The dress cuts off my breathing, almost moving. No. It is moving. It’s sculk. It’s all sculk, writhing, and suffocating, and spreading across my skin, up my neck, whispering to me that it’ll all be over soon, little vex. You’ll be with us soon…

I wake up screaming, the room dark, and can’t move. Something’s wrapped tight around me. Sculk? No, not cold enough. I’m sweltering, sweaty, struggling for breath, fighting against whatever’s constricting me. I kick, and claw, and struggle, until I manage to free myself. I light a torch, glancing over to see my own blankets lying harmless on the bed.

I take deep breaths. The nightmare doesn’t leave my mind. The terror. The worries. The feeling of Sculk remains branded in my mind. Everyone I’ve asked tells me I’m mad for thinking Scar isn’t going to trick me with a horrible dress. Grian told me he’d make something he thought was good, I’d hate it, and then he’d hate me for not wanting to wear it. Skizz recommends I ‘embrace the stupid’. And I try to. But that doesn’t stop the worries of clothing that I have, aversion to itchy fabrics, tightness, the feeling of vulnerability I get whenever I think of showing my scars.

My communicator buzzes. Pearl, asking if I’m awake. Of course she saw my name wasn’t greyed out.

You whispered to Pearlescentmoon: yeah

Pearlescentmoon whispered to you: trying to sleep or no?

You whispered to Pearlescentmoon: dunno.

Pearlescentmoon whispered to you: grinding for resources at mesa if you wanna join

You whispered to Pearlescentmoon: meet you there

‘Cu-ub!’ Scar calls as I land at his base for makeup testing with Scott, a week before the party. I’m exhausted from waking early from nightmares and just hanging out with Pearl instead of sleeping. Everyone’s told me Scar’s making something I’ll hate. But I have to smile.

‘Hey, hey! How’s everything going?’

‘It’s going amoyzing! Your dress is… well, you’ll see.’ He gives a giggle that doesn’t help my nerves. ‘Anyway, are you ready to pop inside.’

‘Yeah, it’s… inside?’

‘Yep! In the storage room. I’ll be working out here, so just shout if you need me.’

‘You’re not coming in?’ My wariness increases.

‘Do you want me to come in?’ Scar frowns, concerned. ‘I can if you want.’

‘Nah, I just… I dunno, just… because it’s at your base, I thought you might have some more involvement.’

‘Oh, alright. Just call me if you need anything, ok?’

‘I will.’

And I enter the storage room.

‘Hello there Cub!’ Scott greets me with a smile I struggle to return. ‘Please, sit down, so… I’m gonna see how the makeup looks, and test out the contact lenses I found.’

‘I’m not wearing contacts.’

‘What?’ Scott frowns. My heart races. I step towards the exit.

‘I’m sorry, but… why can’t I just wear my glasses?’

‘No one will see your makeup if you’ve wearing glasses?!’ Scott protests. ‘I spend ages finding these!’

‘I don’t feel comfortable wearing contact lenses. And I don’t feel comfortable taking off my glasses and being unable to see anything for long periods of time. Including for testing makeup.’ I speak. Scott sighs.

‘Then how are we supposed to do anything?!’

‘I don’t know, I’m sorry, can’t you just-’’

‘SCAR!’ Scott yells.

‘What’s going on? Is everything ok?’ Scar appears, almost immediately.

‘I don’t want to remove my glasses.’

‘And I can’t give Cub eye makeup while he’s wearing glasses! I have contact lenses right here…’

‘I’m not wearing contact lenses.’

‘If he doesn’t want to wear contacts, he’s not going to wear contacts,’ Scar intervenes. I nod. ‘And that’s that.’

‘And what about the makeup?’

‘I can do it?’

‘You don’t know my plans. And I can’t explain without revealing it to Cub. Could you sit with him? Stop him freaking out?’

‘Cub?’ Scar turns the question on me.

‘Yeah, but…’

‘Great. That sorts it… Scar sit and be comforting. Cub, glasses off, eyes closed, and we’ll begin.

I glance at Scar, who’s glaring at Scott. I don’t move. I want to run away. But I can’t.

‘Fine.’

‘You sure?’ Scar frowns. I nod, sitting.

‘Yeah,’ I’m not.. Scar brings over a crafting bench, perching on it as he hugs me close. I take a deep breath, remove my glasses, close my eyes.

And hate everything that follows.

Even with Scar next to me, I struggle to keep calm. The makeup feels like sculk, itching, I’m not allowed to move, stuck sat there, shaking, heart hammering.

‘Cub?’ Scar whispers, squeezing my hand. ‘Are you ok?’

My grip tightens back. I can’t speak, or signal or do anything without Scott snapping.

Something cold and firm grabs my shoulder, forcing me to stay still. I can’t move if I wanted to. I can’t escape. It’s like sculk. Everything is sculk. I hear the whispering voice of my nightmares saying ‘everything will be ok, little vexling, we’ll handle everything.’

Something wraps around my wrist.
Sculk.

I scream.

I try to run away, get away, trying to stand and stumbling forwards, tripping on something and crashing to the ground. My breathing comes in short, terrified, sobs. I can’t see anything except vague blurred shapes, corners of dark. Sculk? I don’t know. Scott’s shouting.

‘Cub, it’s ok, you’re ok. Everything's ok,’ Scar insists, hand on my shoulder. I stay curled up on the ground, .struggling for breath, tears down my face. Scott’s behind, fuming.

‘Seriously Cub?!’

‘I’m sorry!’ I put on my glasses, the world comes onto focus and I stand, continuing to flee outside.

‘Cub, it’s ok, you did nothing wrong… Are you alright? What happened? Cub, come back! Please!’ I don’t. I shoot into the sky and fly away as fast as I can.