#gacha-pcn

[gacha-pcn]

"If you're going to complain the whole way," Kouign-Amann Cookie started, finishing her sentence not with words but by picking up Prune Juice Cookie. She supported his body with one arm under his rear end so that she could still swing her sword in case of danger. "Wow... I've never noticed this before but.... I think my sword weighs more than you do!" (Queenie wants her wicked potion man.) -  ✩   「 @toyboxfriends 」   ✩  

「 ☆ 」 Finally, his complaints have gotten his body the rest it so desperately craves... Truthfully, he hadn't doubted that Kouign-Amann would ease his exhaustion. She's far too noble to allow her boyfriend to suffer. But he was starting to wonder HOW much longer his whining would seemingly fall upon deaf ears. It likely wasn't too long, but lingering pains from overzealous potion-making the night before makes even a passing minute feel like an eternity for the fragile cookie.

Settled comfortably in his girlfriend's hold, he emits a relieved sigh. Partially as a way of showing how much the act is appreciated... and partially as a playful complaint that it hadn't been offered sooner. Flattered as he may be that it was assumed he could walk upon his own two feet ( and insulted as he would have been if Kouign-Amann had been the one to bring it up ) he definitely doesn't WANT to.

❝ Well, that's hardly a surprise... ❞ Prune Juice fondly snarks at the comment about how he barely weighs more than a crumb. She hadn't put it in those EXACT words, but it paints a remarkably accurate picture. Eyes narrowing impishly, cyan hues flit to the sword still readied in Kouign-Amann's grip. Ever an alert Paladin, prepared for combat even when conversing. Prune Juice can appreciate that. Especially when he's the precious cargo being carried. ❝ That sword is bigger than you are. How could a tiny cookie like me stand a chance at weighing more? ❞

As if he wouldn't weigh less even if she was holding a training blade... 「 ☆ 」

[handfulofmuses]

@gacha-pcn

local younger sibling is giving their older sibling a heart attack

[mudskip-muses]

❝ H-HEY! Watch it! ❞ Licorice says as they hastily scramble out of the range of paint bombardment. They can’t be certain, but they are pretty damn sure that this pink menace was aiming for them… Or at the very least, didn’t give a single hoot that they were in the splash zone. Bristled like an indignant cat as they regain their balance— they did NOT almost trip over their robes, shut up —Licorice stomps their foot with a huff, fists clenched at their sides as they snap, ❝ You almost got PAINT on me! ❞

And such a garishly-bright color too…

Honestly, Licorice doesn’t really have a problem with bright colors. When they choose to wear them. But with their naturally darker pallet, it’s hard not to feel like the brightness clashes if they have too much of it. Besides, it doesn’t fit the persona they’ve adopted. Dark and dreary and DANGEROUS… not bright and bubbly and whatever-the-hell-else this guy has got going on. It also doesn’t help that stubbornness has taken a hold of them, making Licorice decide right-then-and-there that getting paint on them would be a grievous insult.

❝ You better keep that mess to yourself or else… ❞ Licorice threatens despite not actually intending to go ahead with anything. Not when there’s no one around to help if things don’t go as intended. Not over something as technically trivial as paint. They’re irritated, not STUPID. — (( *shoves a bby boi who decided to be a Bitch to the weirdo throwing paint around jgvjfchfvf* ))

If Gumball was being honest, he hadn't seen the other cookie wander in close to his zone, most already having the hindsight to be wary whenever the artistic cookie seemed to be struck by inspiration, lest they become part of the art. Splattered with a pink somehow even brighter than their hair, Gumball looked to the voice in curiosity, only for a mischievous grin to fall across their face at the sight of Dark, Drab, and Boring clouding up their vibrant canvas.

"Psh, or else what? I doubt some color would kill ya, might even do you some good!" Sure there was some purple speckled about the other cookie's wardrobe, but there wasn't nearly enough to counter act the black hole of ropes draped about Licorice. "You're the one who should watch it, this is my house! I can do whatever I want to it!" He wasn't exactly given permission per se, but no one telling him to stop after he started was permission enough for him.

Almost as if to prove a point, Gumball turned suddenly towards the newly built house, a paint bomb being pitched towards roof only to end in a colorful blue spatter that mixed nicely with the pink already streaking the tiles as it dripped down to the ground below like candied rain. "You wanna throw one?" Pervious animosity forgotten, Gumball dug about in the bag down by his feet, pulling free a neon purple paint bomb a moment later and holding it out with a grin. "Look, it's your color and everything!"

@gacha-pcn

[gacha-pcn]

⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧  Mirror, mirror on the wall

                        Who’s the baddest of them all?  ✧ ˖ ˙ ⭒

「 ​  ​©   」  

[gacha-pcn]

(Mushroom @ Licorice) "Licoriceee!!“ the child runs up to them before clinging to them, face buried into them. "I saw something scaaaryyy." -  ✩   「 @handfulofmuses 」   ✩  

「 ☆ 」 Having been in the midst of an anxiety-fueled daydream about their place in the team, how the others actually view them, whether they're truly bringing everything they can to the cause ( that ones easy: of course they aren't doing enough ) , they hadn't noticed the pitter patter of terrified feet until Mushroom was calling out for them. Choking back a startled yelp, they drop the Spellbook they'd been attempting to read, arms flailing in a failed attempt to catch it. Groaning as it lands pages-first on the ground, they grimace at the damage to the decrepit book's spine.

It's already in dismal condition, they can't afford to be careless with how they handle it... With a wave of their hand and another drag of heaviness to their form ( curse how particularly draining their source of magic is ) the book disappears in a puff of purple smoke, placed back wherever it is that Licorice keeps their precious things. Just in time for another precious thing to arrive, clinging to them as if the necromancer may soon disappear as well.

Even if Licorice may doubt their importance or purpose in the grand scheme of things, at least they can be certain of ONE use they do have. Sucking in a steadying breath, they straighten their spine and puff out their chest; whatever good it may do for their unimpressive stature. A hand gingerly petting the top of Mushroom’s head, they declare with faux bravado, ❝ Do not worry, my dear little Mushroom— I’m FAR scarier than anything that could possibly be here! ❞ Waving their free hand in an arc, billowing sleeves make the declaration even more impressive, they hope. ❝ Whatever it that scared you, I’LL protect you from it with my powerful and terrifying magic! ❞

Faltering in their claim, Licorice hastily looks down at Mushroom and adds in what is meant to be a casual questioning, ❝ Uh… Just so I can know, for no particular reason… What exactly was this scary thing you saw? And uh— how big was it? ❞ 「 ☆ 」

[gacha-pcn]

"Sorry, could you give these back?“ Looks like XR had been blown up again, his pieces flying everywhere. He had fixed and picked up what he could but it seems like his arms landed near Strawberry Crepe Cookie. -  ✩   「 @xperimentalranger 」   ✩  

「 ☆ 」 Oh? ... What's this?

Drifting to a halt at the clatter of something landing near them, bright hues flit down as they angle their body closer. A hand rests beside their mouth, an unnatural shine within vibrant hues. Twinkling pupils appear, stare drilling through what appears to be discarded limbs. Yet the make is quite... odd. Not comprised of the usual materials for such a job, they can still draw parallels between it and their machines. True, their Wafflebots are of a far superior design ( in their opinion ), but even they must admit that these strange ingredients still put up decent competition...

And without the aid of magic infused within the make.

❝ Interesting~ ❞ Strawberry Crepe muses, picking up the arms with the aid of one of their Waffle enhancements. Planning on studying it further, they stop mid-turn when a new voice breaks the air. Wide eyes blink curiously, a gasp breaking free as something UNPRECEDENTED improves their day. Looks like it's one treasure after another. ❝ WOW! What are you? ❞ They exclaim, rushing to circle the stranger like a strawberry shark. Swiftly flitting through the air, the others request goes completely unheeded, it not even clear whether Strawberry Crepe cared enough to remember it. Waffle arms certainly aren't bringing the robotic arms any closer.

❝ Calculating... ❞ They murmur, abruptly ducking so their face is right in front of the stranger's. ❝ You appear to be some sort of metallic mechanical being... with actual sentience? No, no— That can't be right. ❞ Floating back a bit, they cross their arms and shake their head with a dismissive laugh ( as if trying to tamper their enthusiasm ), ❝ Your programming is clearly advanced enough for vocal communication, but I can't get carried away. I mean, heh— there's a difference between survival protocols letting you ask for arms and being a genuinely thinking creature. ❞

Apparently they DID hear the other ask for his arms... Strawberry Crepe just have yet to actually give them back. 「 ☆ 」

[gacha-pcn]

"Hey, pointdexter! Can I shoot one of your little 'minions' out of my canon? I wanna see what happens, you know, for science."

-  ✩   「 @from-across-the-stars 」   ✩  

「 ☆ 」   Licorice did not yelp at the abrupt and unexpected intrusion. They didn’t. Even if they DID, it barely qualified as such. A small startled sound, unworthy of laughter and certainly not bringing a flush of heat to their face… Anyway— Irritably grumbling as they fix their appearance, straightening their robes and brushing sweet locks out of their eyes, Licorice aims an annoyed look at Gumball. Face scrunched up in a blatant show of ‘ why are you like this? ’, the others question drags out an aghast sputter from the necromancer. 

❝  Wh-What?? You can’t be serious!  ❞  For someone so adamant about their wicked ways and damned demeanor, Licorice seems unfathomably concerned about potentially putting one of their ‘ minions ’ in harm’s way. For being servants meant to tend to dark and sinister plots, brought to life by the self-taught wizard’s magic, Licorice is acting as if Gumball suggested they strap explosives onto children.  ❝  You want to know what will happen? They’d get blasted out of a blasted canon! THAT’S what would happen!  ❞

Abruptly realizing that this isn’t good for the ‘ untouchable ’ persona they repeatedly try and FAIL to show in front of others— especially the troublesome candy-coated artist —Licorice clears their throat into a closed fist, the sound arguably drawing MORE attention to their flustered state. Gaze averted to the side, cheeks are a pink that could rival Gumball’s hair. Standing there stiffly, hands start to anxiously twist the ends of their robe,  ❝  B-Besides... Those are MY servants of darkness, and- I don’t feel like sharing.  ❞  

There. That’s a suitably selfish reason to deny Gumball’s request. It’s not that Licorice is sentimental about their minions. They just feel like being difficult...   「 ☆ 」 

[gacha-pcn]

(( Okay so— a bitch finally delved into Twisted Wonderland like they’ve been meaning to ( it me. i’m bitch ) and i LOVE THAT SHIT. I read the manga and anthology and recently started getting back into the Game, so I’m not very far along in that. But also I’d Die for my Wonderland babs and am holding them up like goddamn Simba because Whomst would like to indulge, I promise I do not bite. I am literally a bean... *wheezes and lies down* )) 

[gacha-pcn]

"You just need to be able to reach the golem's head, right?" Kouign-Amann Cookie confirmed before sheathing her sword in the ground so she could pick up her boyfriend with both arms. Ignoring any protests Prune Juice Cookie may spill, she took aim before throwing him at the back of the golem's head as hard as she could. (Happy National Throw Short People Day. Yeet your teammates. :3)

-  ✩   「 @toyboxfriends 」   ✩  

「 ☆ 」 If he never sees another golem in his life, it'll be too soon... Prune Juice doesn't know why these creatures have decided to resurface more frequently lately— but he intends to FIND OUT —or why this one went through such a monumental growth spurt. But he DOES know that if he can just get his potion into the golem's multitude of eyes, they'll have an advantage against the surprisingly swift opponent.

Blocking their attacks at every turn, Prune Juice suspects there may be something magical afoot with the large creatures gleaming gaze, its eyes a color that doesn't feel entirely normal for its species. An easy thing to miss unless one has spent countless hours pouring over texts about various creatures. Unfortunately, with an array or orbs decorating the entitreity of its face, there's no chance of taking the creature by surprise. But that doesn't seem to be an issue for Kouign-Amann, the determined cookie deciding that they didn't NEED the element of surprise.

They just need to be quick enough... and have accurate aim.

❝ Yes, that's— Oh no. ❞ Abruptly realizing the point of Kouign-Amann's question, he is only allowed a second to aim narrowed eyes at her, ❝ Don't you da— ❞ Cut off with a strained scream as he's hurtling through the air, he hits the golem's head with a harsh THUD. Groaning at the impact, he irritably pushes the brim of his lopsided hat up with a huff before hastily reaching into his sack of potions. He can chew out Kouign-Amann later for the impressive yet less-than-pleasant landing later.

Uncorking the bottle with his teeth, other hand clinging to the golem's head for dear-life, Prune Juice growls, ❝ Let's see how you like my ❛ Now you see me, Now you DON'T ❜ potion. ❞ Pouring an oddly-viscous brew, it coats the golem's head with remarkable quickness considering it's oozing texture. Pulsating with a mimicry of life, it crawls across the wretched creature and clings to its eyes. Roaring as its cast into inescapable darkness, the furious golem violently shakes its head. Small body whipping in the air as Prune Juice barely clings on, his grip suddenly fails.

❝ CATCH ME! ❞ He screams, tumbling through the air with frantically waving arms, shrill command plead heard even above the golem's complaints. 「 ☆ 」

[gacha-pcn]

Gumball had just been fooling around like he always did, he was always just fooling around, and yeah it tended to have consequences, but against him. He was the one who would get in trouble with the authorities, who would have to clean up his artwork that was deemed nothing but a mess, that had to deal with mocking and taunts and insults from those who didn't see what he did as art. Licorice was never like that with him though, any taunts or insults were hollow, Gumball didn't know how he knew that, but he did. Licorice let him stick around, bug him, poke and prod and let him hang around his house just because he was bored. It was boredom that led them to their current predicament, Gumball having jumped out from where he had hidden himself behind a door in Licorice's home when the other cookie had accidentally left it ajar upon entering, thinking it would be fun. He had never seen the other cookie without his robes, and it became painfully clear as to why when Gumball was treated to the sight of bandages and wounds that looked far to linear to be anything but self inflicted. He felt sick, unable to even truly begin to laugh as Licorice's reaction to his fright as he stared with sad eyes. "Hey...what happened?" There was no smile on his face anymore, it making the colorful cookie look so very wrong where he shuffled in place with nerves. "Did uh...did someone else do that to ya? I'll beat 'em up for ya, just point the way!" A weak smile then, and a futile hope that this was nothing but him overthinking things. -  ✩   「 @speckled-and-spattered 」   ✩  

「 ☆ 」 Licorice has been dreading this moment since they noticed their pens grow... drier than preferred. Leaving more scratches than scrawls when trying to write in their spellbooks. With a fair number filled and stashed away at a time, Licorice avoids having to go to their personal ❛ inkwell ❜ as frequently as they used to when first caught in the unfamiliar fervor of magic. Smarter now, an arsenal of glittery pen barrels at hand, there's still no avoiding it entirely... But that's alright.

Magic has always been a test of WILL for them. Mental AND physical fortitude necessary if they were going to pursue their craft. Not only pursue, but excel in it. A weak cookie can't be expected to wield the Dark Arts. Bending the forbidden to their bidding, commanding creatures and delighting amongst demons; forsaking the fate that saw fit to deny Licorice the potent magic seemingly flowing through everyone else's being. But Licorice doesn't need that magic. Never did. All they need are the mysteries they've uncovered and have yet to face... and the determination to do whatever is necessary to utilize it.

They aren't blind... Aren't deaf... and others aren't keen on disguising how they see the necromancer. Feats given the respect of parlor tricks, Licorice knows they have a long way to go before people understand the full scope of what they have achieved. Have YET to achieve. Although, they suppose they aren't entirely alone in this aspect. Even the grandest of magic can been viewed through child-like lenses by those inexperienced with what goes into spell-casting. Onlookers are a fickle thing. So entranced by sparkly spectacles, they never consider the suffering it took.

Of course, some magic requires more suffering than others.

Robes drop to the floor with a sigh, shoulders drooping in tired acceptance as the heaviness leaves them. Cool air hits the non-bandaged parts of their form, white wraps entwined up their forearms to nearly their shoulder. Bindings look fresh, well-tended to. Covered by a loose-fitting purple shirt, rich color is a far cry from the dark exterior Licorice is normally donned in. Light catches the fabric, betraying the bits of glitter embedded in the garment. A sickeningly-pretty sight when compared to the cuts littering Licorice as they carefully unwrap one arm... Lines a mixture of faded by time to barely healed, a testament to years of proven dedication.

A few are haphazard, appearing to be the oldest. Done in a panic. In confused desperation... Realization. They grow neater the further up Licorice's arm they go. Precise. Purposeful. Precious marks of servitude commitment no one can see. Lest they be judged for THAT as well... Speaking of which— Startled out of their skin, Licorice shrieks at Gumball's sudden appearance. Falling backward onto their rear, knocking over a chair in the process, Licorice can't do anything but stare up with wide eyes. Breathing heavily, lemon drop gaze flits down to the discarded robe before snapping back to Gumball, as if considering making a hasty grab for it. Not that it would CHANGE anything.

It's already too late... Gumball knows. He saw. What does he think?

Gumball isn't smiling. It faintly occurs to Licorice that they haven't seen Gumball without some form of levity on his face. Frowning makes the other cookie appear as exposed as Licorice is without their robes. It isn't right. Stomach doing somersaults, expression crumples into something that feels too close to crying for comfort. Shame indignation painting their face red, Licorice snatches their robe and rushes to put it on as they stand. Movements clumsy in their panic, they struggle to fit their arms through the sleeves, quickly turning around during their blunder of a costume change so Gumball can't see their face they don't have to look at Gumball.

❛ Go away, go away, go away, GO AWAY— ❜

Licorice isn't stupid. Neither is Gumball, even if people are determined to treat them both as such. Which means Licorice can recognize the question for what it is. A pity-fueled attempt to deny what he's seeing. If by some miracle Gumball actually didn't know who is to blame, Licorice doubts their reaction left any question. But Gumball is still ignorant to the WHY... Maybe if Licorice explained, he would— ❝ I—I'm fine! I don't need you to ❛ beat anyone up! ❜ ❞ No. There's no way Gumball would understand the necessary sacrifices that come with Black Magic. He's too... bright. Too pink. Too delighted by the things Licorice does to be burdened with the truth of what allows such feats to occur. They can't ruin it for him.

What if Gumball doesn't like their magic anymore?

What if he doesn't like them?

❝ J-Just go away! This doesn't concern you! ❞ Hugging their robes tightly around themself, wounds are safely tucked away where they belong. Grimacing at the crack in their voice, Licorice can only think to bark out, ❝ Or— Or I'll put a terrible curse on you! I'll turn you into a Sugar Frog and you'll be forced to throw those stupid little paint bombs with your tongue! And they don't taste very good, and I would know that because your icky paint is always getting in my mouth! ❞ 「 ☆ 」

[gacha-pcn]

(( Tag Dump - Cream Unicorn Cookie ))

[gacha-pcn]

(( Tag Dump - Strawberry Crepe Cookie ))

[gacha-pcn]

"Uuuuugh, today is so boooorrrinnngggg!!" Whined dramatically where Gumball had himself sprawled across his crushes friend's bed after inviting himself into Licorice's home a short time before, the cookie was soon bolting upright with a grin that could spell nothing but trouble. "Hey, you wanna drop some paint bombs off the castle roof and see how long it takes for us to get caught?" -  ✩   「 @speckled-and-spattered 」   ✩  

「 ☆ 」 Scrawling down new spells in their notebook Spellbook with the unhinged ferver of someone with sleep-deprived ideas RATTLING around in their brain ( they may have been burning the midnight oil last night ) and no one around to tell them it's a bad idea— even if Gumball were aware of Licorice's ambitions, it's doubtful he'd put a stop to any of it —liquidized jelly flows from the tip of their pen to leave bright streaks upon lined paper parchment. Bandages wrapped around their arm, hidden beneath long sleeves, serving as a secret testament to their dedication.

Initially delving into their work to distract from their uninvited crush guest barging into their home and choosing to lounge across their bed of all places— Licorice had hastily grabbed a book from their desk to bury their flushed features into —it hadn't taken long for their frantic action to lead to sincerely enthused spell-crafting. Of course, it's all theoretical right now. The only ❛ proof ❜ they have of their spells holding any power found in the heavy books strewn across their desk, Licorice flipping through cursed and musty pages to strenghten their reasoning.

Hunched over their Spellbook, Gumball's whining goes unacknowledged... until he suggests something to remedy the unbearable boredom. Abruptly standing upright, chair topples back with a clatter. Turning to face Gumball as they smack their palms on the desk ( slightly wincing at the sting of the impact ) lemon eyes glint with a dangerous excitement as they meet that kindred-spirit of a troublesome gaze. ❝ That depends... Do you want those paint bombs to REALLY leave an impression? ❞

Because this sounds like the perfect time to try out one of these new spells... 「 ☆ 」

[gacha-pcn]

(( Tag Dump - Prune Juice Cookie ))

[gacha-pcn]

What was at one point a bounty board in a neighboring town had been turned into Gumball's latest canvas, a series of wanted poster, most of which depicting his friends, now having a few embellishments added by the artist's hand. Instead of cowering when he heard footsteps, he simply turned with the usual grin it actually turning real once he saw it was Licorice. "Hey, check it out!" Stepping to the side, he made a grand gesture to the poster, what was a simple depiction of Licorice now having the addition of cat ears and whiskers to the portrait. "You're a cat!" -  ✩   「 @speckled-and-spattered 」   ✩  

「 ☆ 」 Wanted posters are par-for-the-course for Licorice and frankly, they're quite flattering. Even if the bounty isn't quite as high as they'd like. Being wanted because of nefarious deeds is better than not being wanted at all. They've had a taste of the latter and they aren't eager to go back to that pitiful existence. So what if they get some less-than-friendly looks from other cookies? So what if rather than greetings, they get attempted beatings? So what if— ... It's still preferable.

They LIKE it. Honestly, they do. Hostility is just a way of masking the fear that must fill the souls of those around them! Fear that is demonstrated in how Licorice chokes back a yelp when their stealthy approach to their... crush companion acquaintance Gumball Cookie goes less stealthily than intended. Cheeks flushing pink ( from having been caught off-guard, NOT because of the way they could swear Gumball had lit up at their company ) back stiffens as they abruptly skid to a halt, arms at their sides and wide eyes blinking as they spare a moment to regain their wits.

It only lasts for a brief breath, but that still feels too long for their pride.

Resuming their approach, they study Gumball's proud accomplishment. Curiosity giving way to a giddy smile they can't hide, Licorice's demeanor also lights up with a genuineness that the rambunctious artist seems to bring out of them. Pink face growing more vibrant, they shake their head as if that would dispel the warmth betraying their complexion. It does not. ❝ I suppose that's pretty good... ❞ They begin, tone more playful than dismissive. ❝ But I'm no mere cat. ❞

❝ I'm more like, like a... Like a PANTHER! ❞ Licorice exclaims, hands raised in front of themself in a mimicry of paws, long sleeves hanging over. Batting at the air in what is meant to be a threatening manner but comes across as adorable, eyes narrow as they don a cheshire grin. ❝ A dangerous predator... Lurking in the shadows, blending in perfectly with the darkness... ❞ They continue in a dorkily ominous tone, raising their shoulders and wiggling them as if a kitten ready to pounce.

❝ Rawr! ❞ Growling out ❛ fearsomely ❜ with a bat of their paw in Gumball's direction, the faux-panther looks rather pleased with themself. 「 ☆ 」

[gacha-pcn]

"Hey, dorklord!" It's shouted from where Gumball had been leaned up against his house, a candy cigarette being removed from between his lips with a chomp of his teeth before he dropped it as they quirked up in a smirk. "What's with all the pie? And didn't I see your earlier with a shit ton of flowers? You got a hot date or something tonight?" And was there any chance it was him?

-  ✩   「 @from-across-the-stars 」   ✩  

「 ☆ 」   It has finally come. 

One of the most difficult challenges they have ever had to face. Which is saying a lot, considering that they’ve learned how to raise an undead army to do their bidding... More or less. If one could count the limited number of soldiers they can produce before running out of energy as an ‘army’. Regardless, it took hours of tireless work and dedication to get to that level of magical prowess. A power that only continues to GROW as Licorice hones their craft. Yet even with their extensive and impressive— if they do say so themself —resume, this day threatens to blow all of that out of the water. Because it is Valentine’s Day... 

The most dreaded day of the entire year.

Rising with the sun, hardly eager to face a day that LOOMS like the apocalypse but not having much choice, Licorice has spent hours racing to and from their house. Unfortunately having to pass Gumball’s house on their quest for more- supplies. Important and very SECRET supplies needed to complete their masterful and definitely-going-to-succeed plan. But that was supposed to simply be a minor annoyance. Hoping to be finished long before Gumball emerged from his home, Licorice had known that�� with their luck and anxious need to massively over-prepare —things weren’t likely to go in their favor. So, they had recruited some assistance. 

Therein lies the flaw in their plan.

Screaming, in a higher register than they would prefer, at the sudden shout of NOT their name, Licorice fumbles to keep from dropping the steaming-hot pie they’d been taking to a special location. One specifically chosen for its romantic  beautiful  peaceful atmosphere, a bit of a walk away from the cluster of houses within the Kingdom. They’d placed undead sentries around the area to ensure it remained free of passerby, since that seemed like a top priority. But now, nearly-tripping over their robe while precariously juggling pieces of pie, Licorice wonders if that was a mistake. Maybe Mushroom should have been put in charge of guarding the  picnic blanket  Meeting Location instead. 

If only because the little cookie certainly didn’t do a good job of keeping watch over Gumball’s HOUSE... Exhaling a sigh of relief when they regain their balance, Licorice aims a disgruntled glare in Gumball’s direction. Pouting at the infuriating sight, they instinctively snip,  ❝  My name is not Dorklord, you delinquent.  ❞  Perhaps an ironic insult, considering everything Licorice has done throughout their life, but it’s hardly an inaccurate one.  ❝  ... Also, you shouldn’t litter.  ❞  They nag add as an afterthought, raising a brow and motioning at the discarded candy cigarette with a self-important huff.

Clearing their throat, they continue in a more pompous tone,  ❝  And for your information, I don’t have a ‘ hot date ’... but- I do have an... uh....  ❞  Starting to falter in their composure, nervous gaze averts to the side, Licorice realizing that now is the time they are supposed to inform Gumball of the- plan. They had MEANT to do it after some more internal preparation, but it seems like it’s now-or-never. And never is not an option.  ❝  I have a... potential meeting of the minds. Or well, meeting of A mind and someone who technically counts as such.  ❞  Okay. Subtly ( or not very subtle, to be honest ) insulting their date Gumball wasn’t part of the plan, but it’s happened. Best to just move past it.

❝  I highly doubt you have any Valentine’s Day plans.  ❞  Please don’t have any plans. PLEASE don’t have a date. Sucking in a breath, Licorice closes their eyes and raises their chin, facing Gumball again but not actually meeting his eyes,  ❝  So, if- ahem, if you’d be up for it... I am willing to offer you sanctuary on this horrendous holiday.  ❞  Opening their eyes, Licorice looks at Gumball uncertainly, wondering if they’re being clear enough. Maybe not. Better just get out with it and ASK.  ❝  Do you- want that? To uh, to spend some time with... me?  ❞     「 ☆ 」