[Hana] Street Punk

It was a common occurrence for Amelia to stare at Hana like she was insane while she recounted her stories for the day. 

Their little arrangement had started not too long ago. Maybe a month now, but who was keeping track of the time? Sometimes, Hana would phone the sleepy bun for a cuddle buddy for the night, but really it was more of like an excuse to have someone to talk to while being a little spoon. So this wasn’t an every night thing, but it was happening at least once a week. If the starry bun didn’t think about how this was very slowly burning a hole in her wallet, this was a nice arrangement she could see herself doing long-term.

And Amelia, as sleepy as she was, still did try to listen and react to her stories, which often involved odd errands or side adventures in the city.

“Run that through me again? The tl;dr version.”

Hana let out a brief exhale. “Okay, so I ran into a cool as fuck bun in a dark alleyway–”

“That’s a recipe for getting mugged–”

“–but she didn’t! She was just hanging there, actually I think she had envy horns–”

“From the Hazebloom incident?”

“You know about that?”

“It was the talk of Burrowgatory for a while, so yeah, even I heard of it.”

“Cool cool, anyway, she had envy horns, and she just snubbed me! Said that I wasn’t ‘cool’ enough and needed to change my getup. Rude!”

“Uh huh.”

“But I guess she has a point because my outfit really doesn’t jive with punk doing drugs in a dark alleyway–”

“You’re not supposed to take that seriously.”

“But I want her to step on me, figuratively! Amelia you should’ve seen her, she was just magical.”

It turned out that the summarized version still made the sleepy bun look at her with narrowed eyes, like she had lost her marbles. Yet thankfully, they were in a magical world where mugging could’ve happened but it didn’t, because generally the only thing not wholesome about these buns was the fucking (that was not something Amelia was privy to, since that would be breaking the fourth wall).

“So I wanted to ask you for fashion advice to impress her.”

Amelia blinked. “You’re asking me?”

“Yeah! You seem like a bun that would know how to dress punk.”

The sleepy bun couldn’t tell if Hana was sarcastic or serious. She shook her head, already thinking that she just wanted to sleep the problem away rather than deal with it. “You’re hopeless. I dunno, wear a shitton of belts or something. Spike ‘em like you took a bath in Shardonnay. I’m gonna sleep.”

“Aww, Amelia!” the starry bun pouted but snuggled up on her large chest, making herself comfortable. She wanted to complain and ask for more advice, but there was no stopping the larger bun if she decided she wanted to turn in for the night. She did keep the advice that Amelia gave in mind though, thinking where she might be able to get the belts and spikes from.

✲

“...and that’s why I need your excess black cloth, spikes, and belts. Lots of belts. Preferably monochrome colored.”

She thanked her lucky star motes that it was Peter who was actually standing in front of her rather than the bun secretary, who was for sure going to just turn her away with such a silly request. It seemed that she had earned the “weird but interesting” moniker, which was fine–so long as that meant that she was going to be listened to, or at least entertained.

The designer bun looked at her with crossed arms, clearly wondering whether he really should entertain her. “And you thought that I would be free because..?”

“I gambled! Also, I’d be willing to pay, so long as it’s cheaper than the craft stores!”

He hung his head. “You are a bold one.” he then ran his hand over his hair. “I’ll ask one of the interns to check the stores we have here. No promises, but I can bundle something up and toss a number of carats at you.”

“Uhhh.” Hana shuffled her feet a little. “Can I pay with my card?”

✲

Jackal had a feeling that the starry bun would be back for round two. She was a weird one, with her eyes sparkling when she told her to fuck off so that she could enjoy her cig in peace. It wouldn’t be the first time she had gotten such a response, though. Ever since she got to Burrowgatory, she had buns that would ogle at her strangely shaped horns and her cold persona. She could usually scare them off with a few words and a scowl, but some others looked like they wanted a pounding to get a message across (though with her luck, it was possible that they would be into that).

For that starry bun’s case, Jackal had to admit that she looked like a cute pet, so along with a grimace she gave her a challenge: try to dress for the occasion–the occasion being the dark alleyway that was clearly for social outcasts like herself. The little bun didn’t look like an outcast for certain; felt like the whole she was a punk, she did ballet sort of vibe.

Anyway, Jackal found herself watching the entrance of the alley to see if she could spot starry motes from the distance. Sure enough, they did appear, but in the middle was a blond girl in an all black outfit, tackily covered in white spikes from head to toe, and belts in all sorts of places that made no sense. She had the biggest, goofiest, proudest grin on her face as she clumsily walked up to her with high platform boots (that were also black).

“Have you tried looking at yourself in the mirror?” Jackal asked.

“Yeah! I look super cool, right?”

You look ridiculous. Jackal was about to say, but she held herself back. It was clear that this bun couldn’t rock the punk attire that she sported, yet the fact that she tried so earnestly was plus points to her, she supposed.

“You could look cooler if you follow my pointers.”

She gasped. “Does that mean you’re going to give me some?!”

Jackal showed a small smile. “Yeah. You can walk in those boots, right? Let’s head to a shop to get you sorted.”

Hana made a victorious gesture as she tried to follow along, though she was still having difficulty moving at a faster pace. At one point, she tripped over her own footing, but Jackal caught her easily. It made her squeal, and the envy bun rolled her eyes but couldn’t help a smirk.

“You’re hopeless.”