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3. Wisdom

His father had always been very smart. In times of trouble, Ulka had always gone to him, knowing he would have a listening ear. Today, with his horrific new body and his insecurities welling, Ulka approached the monstrous skeletal form.

"Papa...?"

At once, the figure turned. Ulka was certain that the image of a bear's skeleton, rotting and decaying, might have scared the life out of humans. But to him, this was his father.

And while he had been nervous, Ulka had never been scared around him.

"Do you hate me, papa?" He asked, flopping down with an unceremonious squeak next to his father. The eyeless sockets he stared into gave nothing away, but Ulka knew his father listened. The bones creaked as his father began to spoke, and the little teddy bear listened.

"I am... Worried for you, little one. Why did you take such a frightless form?" His father asked. Had he flesh, Ulka was certain he would've blushed. But the plush form he took showed nothing, and he looked to the ground in shame.

"I thought... If I could get close to humans, and trick my way in, I would be able to scare them more easily. There are movies like that, I think. With evil dolls. I thought that might work quite well."

For a moment, his papa said nothing in response. But when Ulka looked up, he saw the great skeletal form had drawn its mouth into what he knew to be a smile.

"Perhaps, little one, you are more wise than I originally thought.

{forgot to roll}

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5. Beginnings

This was the best idea he had ever had. Ulka normally wasn't that smart, but this.... This was a stroke of genius.

Little children would come for him because he was a teddy bear. Cute, fluffy... He had it all down! Sure, his ears were a little threadbare, but it just made him all the more lovable. They would flock to him like moths to the flame.

And the adults would think someone had loved him. He was so worn, after all, some child had to desperately miss the little bear! It was an exceptionally flawless plan.

The muck-like substance known as Ulka seeped into the discarded teddy with a laugh.

Yes, this was the beginning of a brilliant future.

The lake was probably the least threatening thing that attemptedmurder had come across so far, even if it was talking to him (in a vague sort of way) - but that didn't mean he wasn't wary of it all the same. He stepped towards it with a frightened expression on his face, edging towards it apprehensively.

Nearing it, he felt strangely at ease, perhaps because the memory that swept over him upon closer inspection of the lake was not one that he expected. A face floated into view - his mother, with her dark hair and eyes, and freckle dusted skin as she leaned over him, her lips pressing against his forehead affectionately.

"Rest well," she had whispered, and he had curled up on the bed, his cheeks flushed with pleasure. She smelled like flowers, as she always did, and he could still see the swish of her raven-colored hair as it tumbled down her back in unruly curls. As a child he'd loved to weave feathers in and out of her hair, as his had looked, and she had always laughed and hugged him when the leaves fell right back out.

He pulled himself away from the memory, slightly shaken.

"Pssst."

A small very cute fluffy white bunny was gesturing at Mimsy. Literally, at her. It hopped a bit closer. "Can you believe this shitty programming? I'm like a fluffy bunny. I should at least be a badass bunny but no, Dwight was like hang on I got a better idea and then - wait - sec-"

The bunny froze in mid motion and didn't move for a few seconds.

"Okay, I got this," it finally said again in a squeaky bunny voice, "had to make sure. Anyway if you see anyone else let them know. I'm pretty - we're pretty sure that well, let's assume this shitty coded game is a game and not shitty dream replicating a game. Then you, all of you, are in a shitty game - wait you know what a virus is right? Well anyway, this AI is a freaking learning thanks to-" the bunny started to flicker in and out of existence -" replicating and replacing your-"

- And then it was quite gone and didn't seem like returning again.

He tried to leave the lake, but that wasn't happening so easily.

The next memory he recalled was before he'd gone to Amityville, before he'd proven himself to be a complete and utter failure. He'd sat at his desk with his hands folded on top of a book, eyes poring over the sentences until they blurred together and he couldn't quite make sense of them anymore.

A gentle hand had touched his shoulder.

"Bedtime, sweet," his mother had whispered, and he had gotten up and blearily stumbled in the direction of his sleeping area, collapsing down onto the covers and burying himself in its warmth, like a bird in a nest. She had stroked his hair and kissed his cheek and then grinned, pinching his face.

"Ow!"

"You're going to do so great," she told him, and he had smiled up at her, feeling warm and satisfied.

He is gone. He was banished. He was exiled. That man was gone from his life and he couldn't do anything about it. It was nearing his 15th birth year and the man who sired him was gone. The servants had remained tight lipped and the family had continued on as if nothing was the matter. He could sometimes hear his sister crying in her room whenever he walked by. But he, he didn't cry. His eyes were distant as he wandered the house, the estate, sat through classes, ate, showered, he had became numb to the point that he couldn't display any sort of emotion. The whole event, he was present for it, he was used as a bargaining chip so that his father would leave. The only man he grew to love, cherish, admire, and look to when everything in the family became too heavy for him to bear. The little boy took each step up the stairs at an excruciatingly slow rate. By the time he made it up the stairs, he could almost recall the faces of the servants that passed him on the way up and down again, asking if the young master was okay. As soon as the doors of his room flung open and closed into the darkness, he wept. He fell to the floor and wept. His cries of agony shook the room. He begged, he whined, he cried, he screamed, he yelled, he thrashed, he tantrum.

He did not recall the rest of the night.

((1/3 Rollls for 3/21))

(( Enter ))

Meat walked over to the lake, it seemed like a good idea. He could use a change of scenery, he wandered over to the lake and looked down into the water.

--- Wisdom ---

"Always listen to me, your aunts and your sister," his mother said in a low voice, forcing him to lean forward and strain to hear her words. She was doing it on purpose to ensure he committed the words to memory.

"We are always right, you are always wrong," she continued. Making a point to point at herself and then to him. "If you understand these facts, then we won't have to punish you."

Darren nodded slowly, keeping his voice low as he acknowledged. "Yes mother."

"Good boil, now run along and go see to it your sister's room is ready for her arrival."

"Yes, ma'am." Darren said before bowing and heading out of the room.