Another chapter from the era of Writer's Block ... It hits hard if you ask me -_- One moment you'll be having uncontrollable ideas, the next, nothing at all-
✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧
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✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧
Next night was way better for the old chicken, or at least she thought it was. Despite having a rather emotionless face, she was still having a joyous glint in her eyes. The nightmare hadn't repeated itself either that night, so all-in-all, she was nearly skipping on the floor with her eccentric attitude.
But of course, with happiness, comes jealousy.
That's exactly what the plastic chicken felt, when she spotted her older counterpart in a more jolly mood than herself, envy surged through her wires like huge sparks.
She watched as the older female slid into the kitchen, an envious thought rushing into her mind just as quickly as she strolled towards the sliding doors herself.
Inside, Chica was just examining the empty boxes of pizza, decently stacked above one another. The old female would've smiled if her jaws weren't like they were then, as she read the label on the box on top.
T.C watched her through the small window on the door, before entering, almost abruptly.
"Lost?" She began, the damaged chicken's cheery mood changing right as she said that.
"No." Chica replied with a huff. "I'm not lost, thankfully."
"Oh, please!" The plastic chicken scoffed. "Everyone knows how you always lose your way!"
Chica's head pivoted to her shoulder, a low growl escaping her voice-box. "I'm not losing any way, so stop it!"
"Doesn't matter. I'm not here to argue about that anyway."
"Then why are you here!?"
The plastic female glanced to her hand, humming slightly. Her suit shimmered under the kitchen's bright lights, glossy blue hues just half-lidded with a deadpanned expression as she examined her thin fingers.
"You should probably change your name." She muttered after a while of silence, rubbing her hand with the other one.
At that, Chica turned around to look at her, her condition being exactly opposite to her newer counterpart's.
"What do you mean 'change my name'!?" She inquired.
"You heard what I said. Change your name," T.C replied, her eyes now moving up to stare at the other female. "It gets confusing with two Chicas around, especially since the name's so beautiful, while one of its possessors is the ugliest thing to exist."
