"Hello everybody and welcome to the festival!" Schlatt greets the crowd, his arms spread wide and a smile on his face. The crowd clap, a few even whistle. Already it's off to a better start than the last time he addressed his citizens.

"He seems awfully happy today." Tubbo leans across and whispers to me, sitting to my left.

"Mm, it's nice, isn't it?" I agree, glancing to my right where Schlatt stands before his gaudy throne, addressing the crowd. He's been looking forward to this festival since he first came up with the idea. It makes me happy to see him happy.

"Today is going to be a good day." Tubbo decides and I grin, nudging his shoulder.

"Yes, it is."

Schlatt finishes his short introductory speech to the festival, and decrees that everyone must enjoy the party to its fullest. A task that, for once, the citizens of the land seem eager to carry out.

As the crowd disperse, their foldable chairs scraping across the cobbles, Schlatt huffs out a laugh and plants his hands on his hips.

"I am such a genius." He says.

"Which stall do you plan to visit first, sir? Or are you going to a game?" Fundy appears at Schlatt's side, all smiles as he accompanies the President to the stage stairs. I would follow the two, but Schlatt had made it very clear that I was to try and enjoy myself today. A quote-on-quote 'day off'.

I turn to Tubbo, about to ask if he'd like to roam the festival with me, but he's gone.

"That was quick." I marvel, looking around for even a glimpse of the boy. Maybe he already made plans with someone else?

Quackity shuffles up to me, his hands in his pockets. "Hey, you get ditched too?" He asks, trying to smile but failing. He looks miserable. Schlatt's been giving him the cold shoulder recently, so I can understand why. Fundy has become the new golden boy as of late, taking the spot where Quackity used to stand.

"Yeah, looks like it." I nod, and hold out my hand to him. "Would you like to join me instead?"

Quackity hesitates, staring at my hand. He glances up at me.

"You sure you want to hang out with me? I'm sure you could get anyone in the crowd to accompany you."

"Yes, probably. But I'm asking you." I smile.

Quackity's cheeks darken and he nods.

"Yeah, okay. But you can put that away. I am not holding your hand."

I laugh lightly and curl my hand closed.

"By the way, have you seen George?" I ask, falling into step beside the boy as we exit the podium.

"Nope. Pretty boy probably fell asleep somewhere again."

"You're probably right." I agree. "So, what do you think we should try first? Apple bobbing? Hook a duck?"

Quackity gives me a look of disgust.

"Fuck those games. I want to shoot something."

I smile. "Then shoot things we shall."

I remember walking past a stall earlier, lined with crossbows, and return to it now to find it free of people. It's one of those games where you fire little suctions cups at targets, aiming to knock them off the shelf.

"Oh hell yes." Quackity jogs the last few steps and immediately picks up a weapon, attempting to load a suction-tipped arrow into position.

Five shelves line the back wall of the stall, where a number of tin cans, fake fruit and plush toys sit ready to be shot down.

As I'm eyeing up a cute plush chicken, there's a twang and Quackity curses.

"You okay?" I muse, watching as he shoves his fingers into his mouth, a scowl on his face.

"Fine." He grumbles. He attempts to load the crossbow again, and I realise his actions are harsh and desperate. He's not concentrating at all, too busy thinking about something else. Or someone else.

"You know," I say, placing one hand on his to keep him from snapping the crossbow. "My first relationship was an absolute disaster."

He snorts, scowling down at my hand. "Yeah, right. You're little miss perfect. Nothing goes wrong for you."

"She was beautiful. Strong. Confident. I would have done anything for her and she knew it."

Loading Quackity's crossbow, I gesture for him to try shooting.

He hesitates, then lifts the crossbow and fires. A tower of tin cans clatter down from their shelf.

"I let her use me. Whenever she wanted something, she'd whisper kind things to me, tell me I was amazing, and I was putty in her hands. But when I wanted something I was ignored. I knew that she wasn't treating me very well, but it was my first relationship, and I was just happy to have a girlfriend." I laugh softly, "I was dumb, and she eventually dumped me when she lost interest. I wish I could say I learned my lesson, but I'm not the best when it comes to falling in love; something always go wrong for me."

Quackity lowers his crossbow, "why are you telling me this?"

I smile.

"Just wanted to share my experience with you. And let you know that you deserve better. It's no secret that Schlatt's an ass. If it's respect you're looking for in a partner, you won't get it from him, I'm afraid."

"Then why are you still working for him?" Quackity questions, his expression unreadable. "I've seen how he treats you when he's angry. If I deserve better, then so do you."

"Ah, well this is one of those 'do as I say and not as I do' moments. I have a debt to pay to Schlatt before I can...Before I can leave him. I have simply learnt to take the bad with the good."

"You're terrible at pep talks," he mutters and fires again.

I laugh and take up my own crossbow, though I don't hit a single thing. I've never been good with fidgety weapons. And a crossbow is too heavy for my small hands. I can't hold it properly.

"You suck at this game." Quackity muses.

"Yes, looks like I do. Best out of five?"

"You're on."

We make our way through the festival, eating cotton candy and joining any games that catch our eye.

I bump into a few familiar faces as we walk and exchange swift hellos before being lost to the crowd again. It's fun, and really does remind me of my childhood. Quackity quickly becomes good company once he gets over his angst and actually starts to enjoy himself.

A loud cheer echoes over a tent and I give Quackity a look that says 'that sounded interesting'.

We make a beeline for the noises of an excited crowd and find a boxing ring surrounded on all sides by wooden benches; though no one is sat down. They're all stood, leaning on the edge of their toes as they watch the fistfight inside the ring.

I falter when I see the contestants.

Fundy stands in one corner, his suit jacket discarded. The patch of fur beneath his nose is bloodied, yet his eyes remain narrowed and focused.

His opponent is Techno.

The pig man is just as intimidating as the day I met him. His pink hair is pulled up into a ponytail, exposing all the scars of his face and the torn points of his ears. The crown-shaped earring in his left ear glints gold under the sunlight. His trotter feet scuff against the ground as he adjusts his stance, apparently waiting for Fundy to make the first move.

"Ohhh, this just got interesting." Quackity gives a wicked grin and finds a bench to stand on, joining in with the crowd's cheering.

Reluctantly I follow, if simply to find out what Techno is doing here. Surely he's here collecting intel for Wilbur? But then again, from what I've seen of the pig I wouldn't be surprised if he came simply for the games.

Fundy shoots across the ring and swipes a hand across Techno's face, nicking his cheek and adding a new scar to the collection.

Techno just grunts, grins amusedly, and lifts Fundy up like a ragdoll.

With a very loud yelp the fox gets thrown across the ring, skidding back into his corner. His back bumps against the post and he groans, pushing himself to his feet again.

Fundy looks exhausted, and I can see why. Despite Techno's lean physique, he's clearly got stamina for days. His experience in battle is literally sewn across his skin.

Fundy lost this fight before he even got in the ring.

What are you doing, Fundy?! You're not a fighter.

The match ends when Techno uppercuts Fundy and knocks him clean out the ring. Some of audience manage to catch his body, sparing him the pain of a hard landing.

I flinch, and my stomach knots as I wonder if Fundy is okay.

Well, obviously he isn't, but I hope his injuries aren't too severe. He doesn't deserve pain, not after what I put him through with our shoddy relationship.

"Wooo! I love this guy! Give it up for Techno everybody!" Schlatt calls out, clapping and whistling like a maniac.

"Of course he's here." I mutter, rubbing my forehead. I bet Schlatt specifically asked for this boxing ring.

The goat-man stands on the opposite side of the ring, approaching it till he's close enough to duck beneath the ropes and enter the space.

"Eeey, my man. Good job." He pats Techno on the shoulder like they're old buddies.

The pig man doesn't pull away, but he certainly looks a little uncomfortable.

"Is there anyone here who thinks they can beat my champion?" Schlatt asks the crowd, turning to survey the potential contestants.

Everyone immediately quietens and tries not to make eye contact for fear of being picked out.

"What? Nobody?"

Silence.

"Ah, well that's disappointing."

I make the mistake of glancing up.

Schlatt locks onto me instantly and grins a wolfish grin.

"Or maybe we do have a contender. Ares, my angel. Why don't you step up here and show us just why you're the Secretary of Defence."

Balls.

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AYO, I'm alive :3 sorry for the wait but as of today I will be back to my usual two updates a week.