Friend And Foe

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Drawcia was humming to herself, painting shards of broken glass when suddenly she heard a faint knock at her door. "Hm? Who is it?" She thought aloud.
"Well, uh, it's... Me, Alice," Alice spoke softly.
"Well, come on in! Ya don't have to be shy!~"
Alice creaked open the door and immediately felt faint. Blotches of neon paint covered the once beige walls, and statues of what appeared to be the other Bad Bloods were scattered haphazardly across the floor.
"What did you do?!" She gawked.
"Well, this place needed some sprucing up! Ooh, do you like Maggie's ears? They were super fun to model!~"
Alice couldn't help but giggle at the witch's antics. "I guess you're right, this room was getting boring."
"That's the spirit!" Drawcia cackled.

"Oh, that reminds me," Alice managed to say through her snorts, "I bought you some canvases. So you don't need to worry about cutting yourself on glass or something. Ship hunters need to be well-protected, after all." She dumped them on the messy bedsheets and sighed contentedly.
Drawcia's golden eye gleamed at the sight of the art supplies, and she threw herself joyously at Alice. "Thank you so, so much!!~" she squealed, excited as a kid in a candy store.
Alice looked down at her new jacket. Instead of a leathery maroon, it was now stained a permanent neon green. Oh well, it added a nice touch. "Okay, I'm going to leave to check on Gryll, y'know, make sure she doesn't start another riot. Have fun!" Alice called out, and ran down the hallway.

Drawcia glowed with excitement. My very own Earth canvases! Oh, what would Sister say? Her cheerful thoughts were interrupted abruptly by thoughts of her dear sister. It's been so long, she sighed, maybe she wouldn't even want to see my art anymore. Memories of laughter and badly drawn Waddle Dees filled her lonely mind. She laid back, her violet hat tipped over her eye. Someday, dear sister, I'll see you again. That's a promise.

Out of the corner of her eye, out the broken window, she thought she could see an odd being intertwining amongst the beans on the bustling sunlit streets. It was like Maggie, but with many, many more hands. And... It looked so refined, like it was there on a royal mission. "...I doubt the others will mind if I venture out for a bit," she mused, "To clear my head." She catapulted herself through the window, and flew above the people's vision. There it is! Diving closer to the cobblestone streets, she had the sudden urge to go and buy enticing food for all of her friends or to go and tip all the dedicated performers she saw. We'll save that for another day! Now, she focused on the being. It definitely wasn't Magolor, but Nova, it was similar. It glanced about sceptically, before finally turning into an alleyway. Scarf, horns, beady eyes. She repeated the details in her head. I'll draw it when I get back home.

As she turned into the alley, the being was gone. The only place to go was into a shady-looking building with a singular sign attached above it's head— "Mementos of Patchland". She inhaled sharply. She had visited another Patchland before, and sour things had arisen. Floating inside, Drawcia gasped. Oh, no. This couldn't be happening. It absolutely, positively couldn't.
"Hi, and welcome to Yarnie's!" A bean made of yarn chirped. Not waiting for a reply, it swept Drawcia up a railway of sewing kit stairs for seemed like a dizzying eternity. She finally reached the top, and saw a couch covered with socks and pincushions.

"You," she hissed, gasping for air.
"Did you miss me, Dame Doodle?" A knitting needle popped her on the head, offsetting her hat. "It must of been sooo hard trying to find me, poor thing! You must be famished. How about I serve you some yarn quesadillas?"

Meanwhile, Will was switching through the television channels with Marx and Galacta Knight. There was an awkward silence between the three, as the echoes of countless soap operas and sports announcers drilled into their brains. "Um," Will cleared his throat, "Maybe you'll want to save naps for later, Sir Galacta Knight."
The fuchsia puffball sighed, and spread his pained wings out over the olive pillow, eyes remaining closed. "Sir? Well, that's a new title," he chortled before nodding off again. Marx looked very fed up by this point, likely because Galacta hadn't been doing anything, and stepped over William's lap to confront the warrior. He inhaled deeply, regaining his composure-
"GET UP YOU STUPID VERMIN, OR I'M TAKING YOUR FRIED WINGS BACK TO NOVA!" The screech rang through Will's ears, and he howled in pain as the room shook violently. The TV shut off with a start, and Galacta Knight just about got his horns stuck in the roof.
"Are you up now, sleepyhead?" Marx drawled in an innocent voice, nearly crushing the remote in his claws. Golden, scintillating wings had burst out of his back, before he calmly folded them back in and nuzzled himself between the couch cushions. "Let's watch the show where there were a bunch of zombies and stuff, you guys."
Nobody dared counter his statement, and they returned to a painful silence yet again.

Hey there! Sorry for the shorter chapter this time around, it's been a while since I've even read this story so it may take a bit for it to seem like "itself" again. Thanks for supporting this and my other stories through all this time! It means so much~ I'm beginning to get new ideas, and I'm excited to see where the future takes this story and the others.
Farewell for now, and have a splendid day!~ ☮️

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