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creativeflowers87 · 3 months

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FEBUWHUMP DAY 7

CW: mentions of nervous breakdown, fantasy racism

AN: this doesn't really fit the prompt, but I can't think of anything else for this so ¯_(ツ)_/¯ Also, I forgot to say this but if anything confuses you in this fic, reblog or give me an ask or something and I'll explain!

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It's pretty easy to tell that Nyxie's not a people person.

For one, she doesn't travel into town very often. The only times she really goes anywhere is when she is forcibly dragged by her friends to go on an outing with them or to decide a gift for someone's birthday, or something along those lines.

This isn't because she doesn't enjoy talking to people, no; if she can find a good topic, she can talk with someone for hours on end.

No, it's because people stare.

Nyxie pulls her beanie down even further than it should go. She hears a thread snap, but doesn't take it off to check it out. She'd rather not have random strangers busy staring at the plants growing directly into her head, thank you. The last time that happened, someone tried to pull the flower replacing her eye off her face. That was also the day when she learned that there were pain sensors there. Not a great day.

Honestly, the only reason why she came to this godforsaken market was because Calixto really needed help with her stall. The first day of the market this month, she was practically overrun with requests. Probably not a good thing.

So, Nyxie decided to help out! Because, y'know, she's a good friend! And she doesn't want to have to deal with Calixto's complaining about how she got nothing done that day when you dumbass, you got through like a hundred requests that day.

She continued to speed-walk down to the reception area, ignoring the stares burning into her back that are definitely not a figment of her imagination, thank you. As she approaches the sign-up, she sees a group of what she assumes to be students hogging the sheet for themselves, probably saving slots for their friends or something. Not that uncommon.

Nyxie sighs, walking up to them. "Uh, hey," she says, "Can I sign in, or something? I have, like, ten minutes before my friends call the police or something because I'm not with them."

Someone starts to give them the sheet, before they notice the moss growing out of their head like hair. Fuck my life.

"Hell no," they say, "Not giving it to some weird creature like you."

Nyxie frowns, trying to look more irritated than anxious. "Hey, I'm sentient," she says, crossing her arms in a way that she hopes looks intimidating. "And I do actually have people waiting for me. Can I please get the sheet?"

The person turns, seemingly trying to grab the attention of their friends, before turning back. "Listen, mutant," they say, "Do you really think those 'friends' of yours will care if you don't show up? Hell, you're probably just a funky little pet to them. They won't care."

"What?" Nyxie gives a false laugh, partially offended on the behalf of her friends, but partially nervous as well. Mostly nervous actually. "They're not bad people, is the thing. They really don't give a fuck if I look weird."

The person looks like they're about to get angry, but one of the other people watching steps up to them. "D'you really want to waste your energy on this weird thing here? This doesn't even matter, if they're not allowed here someone would've surely taken them out by now. Let's go, Vi's signed up."

Nyxie stares, frozen. Some part of her, squished to the back of her mind, is internally cackling at how anticlimactic that was. She watches the group walk away for a second, before realising that she should probably fill out the sheet.

Name: Nyxie

Age: Twenty

Species:

Nyxie pauses at this one. How does she classify a human who died then was revived whilst halfway through the decomposition process, without mentioning that she's technically an undead, which is not generally allowed to be in, like, anywhere nowadays? What is one supposed to write for that?

Before she has the chance to have yet another mini breakdown over this, she hears a voice from behind her.

"Hiya Nyx," Calixto says.

Nyxie jumps. "Dude, when d'you even get here?"

Calixto shrugs. "Like thirty seconds ago," it says. It glances over at the paper, then frowns. "You having trouble with that?" it says.

Nyxie pauses, considering whether she should really tell what her problem is. "Uh, I'm fine," she says, really hoping her voice isn't shaking that badly.

Calixto hums for a moment, before grabbing the quill out of Nyxie's hands and scribbling something down.

Name: Nyxie

Age: Twenty

Species: Human

Nyxie glances at Calixto in confusion. "What?" she says.

Calixto shrugs again. "I mean," it says, "You were a human. Just say that you're in cosplay or something. The police have probably seen weirder things than a person that is constantly wearing moss and flowers on their head as a cosplay, and then you won't have to explain the entire reincarnation thing. It works."

Nyxie thinks for a moment, then upon realising that actually, this might work, exhales a breath she didn't know she was holding. "Thanks," she says, "I don't know what I would've done without you, really. How did you figure out what I was thinking?"

Calixto laughs dryly. "Probably because you were staring at that one line on the paper like it was genuinely stressing you out or somethin'. Somethin' like that," it says, but the joke falls flat. Maybe it noticed how close Nyxie was to actually breaking down or something, she doesn't know.

The two stand in an awkward silence for a bit. Then, Calixto says, "We should probably head back before Em burns something down again, shouldn't we?"

Nyxie laughs, for real this time. "Yeah, probably."

#febuwhumpday7 #febuwhump2024 #febuwhump #flowers.docx

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