When You're An Addams

You're Happy When Your Toes Are In The Mud

Bren arched a brow at Gomez, who had insisted on running with them first thing this morning. Yesterday they had arrived and it was fucking weird. They were all calling them 'Cousin' and the freaky big guy that they could've sworn was some Doc Frankenstein creation had scooped up most of their shit in one fell swoop.

Sure, they had downsized when leaving their old rental, but it was still a decent amount of shit considering their ever-growing wardrobe. Honestly, they had a bit of a problem...not that they were going to do anything about it. They were an expert in thrift store shopping, after all, and it'd be a crime to let such talent go to waste.

That night after dinner-alligator, they had been informed after complimenting the old woman on the chicken-they had quickly retreated to their room. Shortly afterwards, one of the other tenants, a rather pretty little thing named April, had come by.

The giant, luxurious suite of a room was by no means the 'modest' accommodation they had been sold on.

It was fully furnished, as promised. With fancy furniture from the baroque Era or something. The giant bed held more pillows than they could imagine anyone ever using. A giant, old-school wardrobe stood tall, a whole dressing area near it in the space between it and the en-suite bathroom held a vanity and large, free-standing full length mirror. Walls adorned with paintings and tapestries and bookshelves along with a large, ornate writing desk that looked as if the Magna Carta could've been signed on it.

In short: A fucking giant room chock full of fancy shit they were afraid to break.

Things made much more sense after she explained a few things. Including her clarifying that she, also, was not actually the host family's cousin, but another renter.

At the same time, though, it also made so much less sense. Including her vauge warning about the running path she gave as she sat almost ramrod straight in one of the overstuffed, fancy chairs by the bookshelves.

"Gomez seemed rather...enthusiastic about it. He, Fester, and the kids have been working on it all week. Just be careful, okay?" She had warned, big green eyes looking up at them as she had gone on about some other odd instances that they hadn't really processed for trying to find constellations in the freckles littering her nose and cheeks. A few more distracting them on a lightly sun-brushed shoulder that peeked out from the dark purple sweater that slipped off to one side, as well.

Okay, maybe they had a thing for green eyes and freckles. Sue them. In fact, they were rapidly realizing that they apparently also had a thing going for soft, southern accents. Not that April's was strong. In fact, it was barely there in a way that seemed purposeful, though it occasionally appeared with a pleasant sweetness on certain words.

Now, though, Bren was wishing they had bothered to properly listen instead of admiring the view. Gomez, the odd one that he was, was far to excited about this to make them feel at ease.

"Ready old sport?" Bren nodded, prepared to settle in for more of a jog as the man led them through the path the first time.

"Yep."

"Wonderful!" With that, the lunatic took off like a rocket. Bren's eyes widened for a moment before they hurried to catch up, shocked at the older gentleman's speed as they raced along after him through a winding path amid the graveyard that seemed to surround the property.

"Hurdles ahead!"

"Hurdles? I'm a distance run-SHIT!" They barely leapt in time, struggling to even make it over the next two rows of rusted gates with pointed tops erected on the path between two mausoleums, forcing one to bypass them to continue. Heart pounding, they did their best to catch up to Gomez, though he stayed out of reach. Just about the time they settled back into their usual cadence, Gomez's cheery voice sounded out once more.