☆ Deltatones || Deltarune AU ☆

Ch. 1 - Everything is Terrible (But At Least I Have You)

Spamton has gotten used to all the things that come with being an Addison.

The shoving, the mockery, the teasing. The glares he and his family get if they all go out in public together. The countless times he's looked at Swatchlings-bold, brave, precise and, best of all, unafraid and unabashedly themselves-and thought to himself that he's just unlucky to be born as essentially an inferior version of them.

He's gotten used to the bullying, and the harassment, and the threats. To the mothers who usher their young away in fear that they'd catch just a glimpse of him. To the fact that he's always had to close up shop early for fear of being followed and caught out alone in the hours of the night when his screams wouldn't be heard.

The one time Spamton hadn't closed up early (having insisted he stay out longer to make up some extra money for the other Addisons on a particularly slow day), he was verbally harassed by two particularly malicious Darkners and chased into an alley, where he was subsequently attacked and prodded like some kind of creature.

The taller of the two had done most of the work, inviting the other to chase Spamton when he ran, slapping him square across the face when he objected to being a "killer" when accused, and being behind most of the name-calling.

But it wasn't that bad.

Well, compared to all the other times he's been verbally and physically abused, it's not that bad. The worst (and weirdest, looking back on it) part of the encounter was when the taller Darkner had practically grabbed him by the jaw and forced his mouth open to see his teeth. That'd be weird for anyone, but for an Addison, it's especially frightening.

And yet, despite all of this, Spamton's found a. . . Taboo coping mechanism.

It's unusual for Addisons to be in contact with anyone belonging to any other species outside of work. And it's downright frowned upon for them to be friends with other Darkner types.

So for Spamton to be hanging around with a Swatchling, one of, if not the most prestigious Darkner species out there, he must be out of his mind.

And yet every day, he wakes up, gets himself ready, and heads straight to the Color Cafe to see Swatch, the head butler of the mansion. It's become a routine at this point, and they've both grown accustomed to it.

//

Spamton wakes up at 8 o'clock sharp. He has an alarm that goes off at 8 every morning on weekdays, but even without it, he still wakes up around the same time on his days off. He briefly considers going back to sleep, but the migraine pounding against his skull decides that for him.

Spamton sits up sluggishly and slips out of bed, lazily rubbing some of the leftover sleep out of an eye, and walks to the bathroom.

He's really got to stop getting blackout drunk so often if he wants to stop getting these headaches, Spamton thinks absently as he pops some prescription pain meds into his mouth, painfully aware of how close to empty the orange bottle is.

Spamton takes a moment to stare at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He's a bit shorter than average height. Not too bad, but just enough to warrant teasing from his fellow Addison siblings. His eyes are tired, but his bright pink irises make his eyes seem much brighter and friendlier.

His fur is pure white and silky, practically bursting out of his gray turtleneck sweater. His hair is the same color, fluffy and shoulder-length.

His mouth is. . . Well, it's his mouth. Usually painted with black lipstick, but other than that, pretty bland. Spamton opens it slowly and almost curiously, and immediately his eyes light up.