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If there was ever a time to take advantage of the Benedict Center and their supposed baby-sitting tactics, right now was definately it. Ioyla burst into the center, one arm clutching a tattered briefcase, the other holding her supposed child, Ilistala. She was late, so very, very late, for a very important
date
job interview, and there was no way she was going to leave her little hellion of a child in the apartment, all by herself. Not with their not-so-precious belongings stuffed into highly flamable cardboard boxes. Yes, the Infriti family was finally moving out of Aekea and into Gambino, the Isle of Opportunities. Time for a change, and not the diaper kind.

And so, stumbling into the Benedict Center, manhandling the briefcase and baby, Ioyla set Ilistala on the floor, in front of a couch. She bent down to give her child a peck on the cheek, elicting whiney gasps from the younger one.

"Ahhh!" Ilistala griped, flinging her arms in Ioyla's face. One tiny chubby fist caught her mother right in the chin, and that little one had quite the right hook.

"Ow! ********! No hittin, that's mean!" Ioyla jerked her head back up, straightened her back, and called: "OKAY SOMEONE WATCH HER SHE LIKES APPLE JUICE AND SHE HATES NAPTIME I'LL BE BACK LATER KAY BYE!" One more quick kiss, this one on the forehead, and Ioyla was gone, out the door, possibly to get a job in Gambino. Profesional UPS woman, here I come!

And there Ilistala sat. Bored. The little Shattered toddler rocked back and forth on her rear, gripping her toes, bubbling to herself. This was stupid.

Ten minutes went by, featuring Stala just...sitting there, still gripping her toes, Stala wiggling on her a**, Stala slaping the carpets with her palms, and, most exciting(!), Stala leaning against the couch, pouting. She probably would've fallen asleep, and the day would've been so easy and quiet, but the opening slam of a door snatched her from the warm hands of slumber.

A dark-haired woman with scary horns rushed in, carrying a little boy with mis-matched eyes. He looked either extremely unhappy, or darkly amused. The horned lady yelled some things, alot like ma did before she left, kissed the little boy, whose name was apparently 'Honey', and zoomed out the door. ... Kay.

That left Stala and Honey, all alone in the Benedict Center. When Honey slid down the side of the couch to sit next to her, Ilistala inched away a little. Normally cheery, or at least just happy to be outside playing with others, this little boy sparked a feeling of strong annoyance. Being only a baby, having not matured to learn how to express yourself (or at least just hide your feelings), Ilistala voiced her feelings towards Honey by not voicing them at all: she climbed to her feet, grunting at the effort it caused her short little legs, stood in front of Honey, and gave him a good kick in the knee.

Love at first sight.

Indeed, the battle of the wounded knee. Who would win? It was a tough match. Would it be tiny, brave Honey with his little...boomerang...thing and nasty personality? Or would it be Ilistala, the emobodiment of fire and all things destructive. Who knew?

The point was, Honey had landed quite a few punches, one of them even on Stala's mouth. She had begun thrashing along with Honey once he tried to hit her, and when he succesfully did, Ilistala abruptly stopped, and when that happened, she lost her balance. She started toppling backwards, pinwheeling her arms and trying to nurse a slowly throbbing lip at the same time. No such luck. The Shattered toddler fell to the floor with a muffled "oof!"

She sat there, blinking in the living room, staring above Honey's head and waiting for someone to come along and scold this wretched thing for being a very naughty boy. But when a few moments of silence went on, after she had fallen on her rear, Stala decided no one would come to her aid today. Figures, all adults are lazy bastards...especially momma...

Anyway. Ilistala reached forward to soothe Honey, if he was still madly flailing his arms. If not, then her fingers would probably end up splayed on his face. "Urcha," she stated firmly, moving her other arm to rest alongside the first arm, "ahwaaaaah." A tiny baby frown would spread Stala's lips, as if to say "you're dumb, please let me put my hands on your face to teach you how to be smarter".

Annoyance could best describe Stala at that moment: Honey was sitting there, her fingers in his face, looking downright confused. Confused! How could you be confused when she was only trying to explain to him that he was very dumb and needed to be taught a lesson? Sheesh, boys are stupid!

Stala rocked herself a little bit closer to Karma, removing her hands to place them at her sides, where they would pick and pull at the carpeted floor. "Awaa," she mimicked, puffing her lips to pout. This wasn't fun at all! Honey here was just being...being...a brat! Yeah!

"BAHT!" Ilistala suddenly shrieked, launching herself forward to tackle Honey. If succesful, Stala would sit there, primly, on the boy's tummy. Probably bounce around a few times, but other than that, just chill.

Moo off? What the hell was that? Ilistala narrowed her eyes, digging her lower half harder into Honey's surely aching chest. "MOO OFF!" she mirrored, jabbing the boy in the forehead. She stopped, suddenly, arms in the air, and, again, casually waited around for any oncoming adults. And again, none came.

In that moment, it hit Stala exactly what moo off meant: you big fat cow, get off me. Mixed feelings of hurt and irriation flickering behind her eyes, Ilistala abruptly leaned forward, angry and upset at being called a cow, a painful revenge quite possibly in store for Honey, and--

--she licked him right on the nose. What?

"Meanie," she whimpered, rolling off Honey's chest to the floor. She sat there, dejected, silently willing the little meaniehead away.

What a world, what a world. Hey, wait, we already said that. Shut up! Oh, sorry.

Ilistala harrumphed, as if she were an wife angry at her husband's complete idiocy over not buying roses on their honeymoon. Honestly, some people! She suddenly climbed to her feet and stomped a circle around Karma's body--or the pile of goo; it all depended on who was looking at who.

"NOT MOO! NOT MOO! NOT MOO!" she howled, punctuating each pause in the chant to stamp her feet a little harder. "HONEY IS NAUGHTY BOY! NAUGHTY BOY! MEANIE HONEY MOOMOO!"

Stala abruptly stopped the little show to flail her hands in Karma's face again, frowning. "Kiss?"

Kiss? What?

Apparently, the Shattered desired a kiss to make the situation all better. Deliver, Honey, deliver!

She held her arms out in the air, waiting for the soothing smooch of healyness.

There was a long, long pause after Honey delivered the sneaky blow. Ilistala, her arms now limp at her sides, only stared at Honey, her eyes wide, her jaw hanging open and almost swaying in the nonexistent breeze. What the hell? A big fat ugly yucky moo? What?

Tears began to well up in Stala's eyes, but she wiped them away once they started. She would not give Honey the satisfaction of seeing her cry. She would, however, beat his a** to a pulp.

Shrieking, the Shattered toddler formed one chubby hand into a fist and sent it hurling towards the offending boy's face, all the while belting out:

"STALA NOT YUCKY! STALA NOT YUCKY! STALA NOT YUCKEEEE!"

When Honey began his freakishly loud crying and tantruming, Ilistala was, at first, taken aback. What the hell was wrong with this kid? All she did was hit him, but only after he called her a mean name. It was only fair, really! An eye for an eye! ...whatever that meant.

Crossing her arms, Ilistala glared at the crying Honey, quite fed up with his baby-like behavior and vowing never to act such a way. That is, until the whole severity of the situation was realized, and Stala felt tears welling up in her eyes again. Frustrated, she tried to wipe them away once more, but succeeded in only adding fuel to the fire.

The Shattered toddler abruptly sat down on the floor and started bawling, kicking her feet, and generally having a hissyfit. Why? Your guess is as good as mine.