Tiny

What's The Name

Moving stuff around was the easy part.

Organizing things was the hard part.

Limited space and few items to really work with was much harder than he had imagined it would be. Bittergiggle had to keep in mind how he wanted his little hideout to be.

Mostly, an area for his work and joke planning. Space where he can put the two clones where they wouldn't be in the way. And a place where the kid would go.

Those all should have been simple right?

Wrong.

The hideout was small, with very limited space thanks to the three tanks that took up most of the room. Two of which still had unfinished clones in them. And as he came to find out, the two clones outside the tanks couldn't stand to be near one another.

Arguing and insults were a constant thing between the two, and Bittergigle was getting tired of slapping them to make them shut up all the time. So they were kept far apart from each other in their usual places.

Which left the kid's area and his workplace with far less space to work with.

The frown on half of Bittergiggle's face deepened as he stared at the space. It wasn't... great. It was only a simple desk with a small area for the kid on the ground. And that wasn't much.

It didn't feel fair to the kid to have such a little space. No matter how much he rearranged it, the space didn't improve. It was still small, and Bittergiggle wasn't sure if the space would ever get bigger. Maybe it wouldn't be too bad to share for now until he figured something out.

He stared down at the tiny jester against his chest. She had been kept busy staring at everything in the room, though Bittergiggle made sure she didn't see the two clones in the tanks. Somehow he felt seeing a headless and an eyeless lookalike clones wouldn't be too good of an idea. Even they unnerved him sometimes.

The best he could do was to tape up cloths around the tanks to block them from view. He'll deal with them later... probably.

Now the jester really had no clue what to do now.

His small hideout had barely changed aside from his space having a few of the kid's items. He'll deal with those later. Now all he had to worry about was... well, trying to figure out what to do next.

Pulling the kid out of the sling, Bittergiggle stared at her. He had no clue of what to do now. He guessed he should be parenting her, but what exactly did that mean? Syringeon always came to mind when he tried to think of what parenting was, but quickly dismissed using the surgeon as a perfect example.

The only other parents he knew of were the queen and Sir Dadadoo. The queen had hardly been anywhere near her children due to their aggression, but Dadadoo had been quite tentative to them. The Naughty Ones listened to him.

But how did he do it? Bittergiggle had stayed far away from the Naughty Ones when one nearly bit his head off. And he never really spoke to his old friend much before the failed rebellion. He... he didn't feel comfortable talking to Dadadoo. Not when he changed so much.

So that set him back to square one.

What was he supposed to do now?

"You've been awfully quiet." Top-half spoke up, startling Bittergiggle.

"W... what?"

"You're usually more talkative than this. Always spewing out new jokes or ideas on how to reach the queen. Instead, you've been staring at the kid for a long time."

"Oh." Bittergiggle ducked his gaze down to the ground. "Well I... I don't really know what to do. I never planned on having a kid. And sending her back isn't an option. And... And there's... no one to turn to for help."