Sugarcube Corner was a charming place that Brush hadn't been to, but had heard about. However, it was bustling with activity, and did not have a single free table when the Anya and her entered it — about half an hour before eight — which was rather disappointing for the latter.

There were empty seats, however, and a pony who was happy to share a table.

Someone called out from one of the tables, getting both Anya's and Brush's attention. They both looked over and saw that it was Lyra waving at them, with Brush also being able to see that she was smiling at them.

Brush didn't really know a lot of the people of Ponyville. She had mostly kept to herself and her art, and so, she could count the number of people she knew and talked to, on her front paws. Lyra wasn't one of those people that she talked to but she knew about her from Anya, and additionally, she had made a nice first impression on her and seemed charming.

Brush walked along with Anya to Lyra's table, her wing no longer on her friend's back. She knew that Anya didn't like the lack of contact, evident by her moving ever so slightly closer to her, but it was getting too hot for an extended wing hug. How she wished to return to her home and enjoy the wonders of air conditioning, or maybe have some rain. Of course, none of that could happen right now, unless the weather company decides it, but she kept a positive attitude.

The two friends stopped in front of the table. Now that she was closer, Brush could observe Lyra better. The aquamarine unicorn was continually shifting in her seat with her ears raised forward. She was impatient to do something, probably speak to the two, and if Brush was to go by her with her excited smile and what she saw in the magazine she had in her wing, it was probably about the previous evening's show.

"Hey Lyra," Anya greeted with a raised hoof and a slight smile. "How's everything going?"

"Better than great!" Lyra replied with a clap and a large smile. "I can tell you all about it. Take a seat, you and your friend." She pointed at the empty seats opposite of her.

"Oh, thanks," Anya replied.

"Thanks, Miss Lyra," Brush said. She found Lyra to be quite nice already.

"You can just call me Lyra, and you're welcome..." she paused, not knowing her name.

"This is Feather Brush, Lyra," Anya said, doing the introduction for Brush like a good mutual friend should. "And Brush, this is Lyra."

"Thanks," Lyra said. "Anyway, as I was saying, you're welcome, Feather Brush."

"You can just call me Brush."

"Alright, Brush."

"Alright, I'm getting myself some stuff to eat. Want me to get something for you guys as well?" Anya said, moving on to the next order of business seeing that the introductions were over. Both Lyra and Brush declined the offer, and with that, Anya left the two at the table and went over to the counter to make an order.

Almost immediately, the conversation died, as it usually does when the mutual friend leaves for a moment. However, Brush didn't like that all that much — the silence was too awkward and the mare she sat with was most likely an agreeable person to talk to.

Fortunately, she didn't have to restart the conversation.

"So, how's your day going?" Lyra began.

"Well, it has been alright so far, though it has only just begun," Brush answered. "What about you, how has your day been?"

"It's been wonderful!" she answered with a clap of her hooves and a wide smile.

Brush turned her full attention to her at that, as evident by her ears turning forward and her pupils dilating a bit. Her whiskers shifted forward a bit as well. Lyra's excitement was infectious and Brush found herself wanting to know more, especially since Anya hadn't spoke much on what had happened at the show, and she didn't want to press her for information right now.

Seeing that she had the attention she wanted, Lyra began elaborating. "The fashion yesterday evening, you were there, right?"

"Unfortunately, I was not there. I did see pictures though." Brush pulled out the magazine from under her wing and put it on the table.

"The Canterlot Fashion magazine?!" she exclaimed, leaning over the table to see the magazine up close. The next, she sat back and smiled sheepishly. "I mean, I knew I'd end up in it but actually seeing it... can I have a look at that?"

"You're welcome to," Brush replied, pushing it to her. Lyra snatched it up immediately and started flipping through the pages quick as she could, with childlike excitement that made Brush smile. Lyra stopped at a page and stared for a moment, before she squeed in an adorable manner, probably at the pictures of herself in a pretty dress.

"I have to say, you did look beautiful in the pictures," Brush complimented before asking what she wanted to know. "Could you tell me more about the show?"

"Oh, yeah, sure, in a bit!" Lyra answered as she perused the page she had stopped on. Brush nodded and leaned back a bit in her seat. She saw that Anya was coming back from the counter.

Anya took one look at what the two were doing, and decided not to interrupt Lyra's reading. She sat down next to Brush and asked quietly about what was going on. Brush told her that she had given the magazine to Lyra.

Just then, Lyra put down the magazine and looked up. "Oh! I didn't know you already came back."

Anya nodded, and then switched the topic. "You were going to tell us something."

Lyra blinked, her mind still on the magazine, before she remembered what she had been intending to do. "Oh, yeah. So, you remember Photo Finish, the photographer from yesterday, right?"

While Brush hadn't met her personally, she knew about the (in)famous Canterlot photographer. Anya remembered her, though she didn't sound happy to as she replied yes.

"Well, then, you probably know that she does a lot of photo shoots." Lyra paused dramatically and leaned in a bit, as if telling a secret. Brush leaned in closer to hear what Lyra had to say.

Anya, on the other hand, took the pause as an invitation to guess what was happening to Lyra. "She's calling you to one of the photo shoots?"

Lyra, in a display of her maturity, pouted at having the 'surprise' be ruined, but she didn't make any indication of holding it against Anya. Brush considered saying something about her directness, though she decided against it since Anya didn't mean any harm.

"Yep, I got a letter this morning from her to be ready," Lyra continued. "Just imagine, supermodel Lyra Heartstrings. More famous than even Miss Fleur herself. I'd fit right into Canterlot." She giggled after she finished, though it seemed that she was more than just joking.

Brush just rolled her eyes at that, but she still smiled. Lyra might have demonstrated her complete ignorance of Canterlot elite society and the many issues it had, but her good nature more than made up for her ignorance. She'd learn in time that she'd prefer Ponyville over Canterlot, hopefully in a manner that wasn't akin to diving headfirst into a furnace.

She glanced to get side and saw that Anya seemed to have no reaction to Lyra's good news. Of course, she knew that Anya felt happy for Lyra, she just didn't express herself as outwardly as others.

"When you're up there, among — heh — the stars," Anya began suddenly, her voice almost drowned out by the ambiance of the bakery. She paused for a moment, not dramatically but rather to think about how she would continue. "Be sure to remember the weirdo who taught you how to make plants grow weird."

"I'll be sure to," Lyra said, playing along. Brush didn't find it to be amusing though, not being a fan of self-deprecation, but she didn't say anything to interrupt.

There was a lapse in the conversation, but Brush didn't find it to be awkward silence. She took the opportunity to observe the people around her, and did so in a mostly discrete manner. A quick look around let her see that Anya had taken to staring at the table, though her eyes did wander around nervously every now and then. Her ears were swivelling around as well, probably looking for some imagined problem. Contrastingly, Lyra had picked up the magazine again and was absorbed by it.

Besides that, there was just the general ambience of the shop. She tried puting a wing around Anya, but was interrupted.

"Heya everypony!"

Pinkie Pie had made absolutely no indication of her being there until now — no sound, no shift in the air, and Brush wasn't even sure that she had seen Pinkie walk up to the table. One moment she wasn't there; the next, she was. Brush was startled to say the least, and in that startled state she had let out an 'eep' and opened her wings, inadvertently slapping a slightly-less-startled Anya in her side.

Opposite to the two, Lyra put down the magazine and said calmly, "Hey Pinkie, how's everything going?"

"Everything's peachy keen! Here, I've got your order," Pinkie replied, seemingly ignorant of his she has startled the two other ponies at the table. She hopped in place, making a plate with a pastry on it bounce off the tray on her back. The order landed in place perfectly in complete defiance of what one would expect to happen to a falling plate of food.

Brush watched the impossible feat happen with wide eyes. She had observed Pinkie to be a peculiar mare with quite a lot of surprises but she hadn't spoken much with her after the welcome party, meaning she couldn't really gauge what the party mare could do, and apparently, the seemingly impossible was one of them.

Brush decided to not pursue an explanation of how she had done that, and turned her attention to apologising to her friend for the accidental hit. Anya has just enough time to tell her it was no big deal before Pinkie turned to her.

"And here's your order!" Said she as she once again did her impossible serving trick. Brush got to watch as a plate of cookies, and a cup of what she assumed to be coffee dropped perfectly into place in front of Anya, as if it were a magic trick. Anya mumbled a thanks, seemingly unfazed by Pinkie's antics.

Pinkie didn't go yet. Instead, she continued talking, "Oh, by the way, you didn't mention what kind of coffee you wanted, and Mister Cake forgot to ask, and I didn't anypony to have bad coffee on MY watch, especially when they're feeling down." Anya looked up to meet the smiling mare's eyes with some alarm and quite a lot of confusion.

"So, I made you a custom drink!" Pinkie suddenly leaned in and started whispering, though she did it loudly enough for Brush to hear. "I'll tell you this now: drinking it will feel like a hug, and everypony likes hugs because they're the best, so you'll like it as well." Pinkie paused for a moment, before pulling back and continuing in a normal voice, "And if you don't like it, you can have it exchanged. Capiche?"

Anya nodded.

Pinkie beamed at that answer. "Alright, have a nice day!" She said before she retreated back towards the counter, skipping like a little filly as she did. A few moments of silence persisted.

"Is she always like that?" Brush asked out loud to nobody in particular. It might have been rude but she was genuinely confused by Pinkie's demeanour.

"Yeah, sometimes she's a bit... sudden, but she's still pretty good at what she does," Lyra answered. "Especially baking. She's probably a world class baker in disguise." As if to demonstrate, she took a bite of her pastry and then made a comically exaggerated sound of pleasure.

Brush shook her head and glanced at her friend. Anya had picked up the cup of mystery coffee in her hooves and was looking at it questioningly. She glanced towards Brush, who simply shrugged in response. Seeing that there was nothing else she could do, Anya took a sip of the drink.

For the second time that day, Brush saw a pony have an immediate and (relatively) comically exaggerated reaction to the bakery's products.

The mystery coffee had enlivened Anya, making her go from drowsy and glum to being a lot more animate, and she was already taking another, longer sip of the drink, making a cute little hum as she did. She no longer hunched, her ears didn't swivel around, and on her face was a look of bliss. Brush found her to be rather adorable at that instant.

Anya noticed her looking, and turned to face her with a raised eyebrow and cup to her lips. "Hm?"

"You look rather nice," Brush explained. Anya paused at that.

She thought for a second and then dismissed the compliment. "Alright," she said, turning back. Her ears shifted downwards as she did, and the contentment she had earlier was gone. Brush sighed at the change in mood. She put a wing around her, seeing that it was probably the only thing she could do to cheer her friend up. Anya wasn't cheered up, but she did appreciate the gesture.

There was a shift in the air accompanied by a door opening, but Brush didn't look over. Anya turned her head to glance at who had had entered the building, and quickly turned back. "Bon Bon's here," she said to Lyra.

"Already? I thought she'd be busy..." Lyra trailed off as she raised her head high to look over the seats. She mumbled something to herself as she continued looking. What she mumbled was probably not good, judging by how her smile faltered a little. "Why's she here?"

Brush didn't have to turn her head around to see the offending pony since they walked up to the table, having a very clear one-sided conversation. Two earth mares had stopped at their table. The first was a young beige mare with a two-toned blue and pink mane that ended in curls, and a cutie mark of bon-bons. The other was an older pale pink mare with a styled mane of magenta and dark heliotrope, and a cutie mark of a diamond ring. In addition, she wore a gaudy red dress with golden trim, quite a lot of jewellery, and even more makeup.

Now, there was a shift in the mood as well.

By the way the former smiled and nodded along to whatever the latter said, and how the latter didn't seem to care for anything besides talking in a vexatious faux-Canterlot accent, Brush could infer that the former was stuck in conversation. Fortunately, Lyra intervened.

"Hey Bonnie, your work with those three ponies done?" Lyra asked, interrupting the rich mare's monologue on the importance of makeup.

The mare paused mid-speech, clearly dumbfounded at the interruption and processing it. She recovered quickly, but not quickly enough though, since Bon Bon had sat down next to Lyra and started talking with her. They entered a conversation that Brush didn't pay much attention to. She was busy discreetly observing the other mare — more specifically, how she looked at the group.

She held her head high and looked down at the four, with her face slightly scrunched up, and a mean look in her eyes. Her sneer became more prominent whenever she glanced at either Brush, or Lyra, or Anya, and there were definitely some mean mumbles coming from her. She somehow seemed to embody all the aspects of a caricature of a Canterlot elitist — quite ironic for an earth pony. Although it wasn't exactly fair in her mind to judge a book by its cover, Brush had decided that the mare was probably a disagreeable pony.

Anya was not-very-discreetly avoiding looking at the mare, while the other two seemed to be ignoring her the best they could. Brush decided to follow their example, not because she was intimidated as it seemed for the rest, but because she extrapolated from experience and figured that engaging would be trouble.

Unfortunately, the mare either didn't notice, or didn't care about how the four were trying to ignore her. She cleared her throat but Lyra and Bon Bon continued talking. Only Anya seemed to pay attention to the mare, though it was definitely not because she was interested in whatever the mare had to say.

She cleared her throat again, louder and more impatiently. The two mares stopped their conversation this time and looked to her.

"Oh, hi, Spoile—" Lyra began, only to be cut off immediately.

"Miss," the mare corrected with a grumble.

"Yes, Miss Rich." Lyra mumbled something afterwards, probably unsavoury in nature, but Miss Rich didn't hear it over her own voice.

"I believe I was speaking about how important makeup is for a civilised mare." She paused, looking over the group. "But I suppose I'll address something more pressing first. Do you mind if I have a seat?"

She didn't wait for a response and sat down next to Bon Bon, making sure to take her time as she adjusted both herself and her dress, and ignore the two mares who had practically pushed themselves against the wall to avoid being close to her. Brush glanced to her side to see how her friend reacted to the unwelcome lady and saw that Anya was almost glaring at the mare, while nibbling on a cookie. Besides that, Brush also picked up some bits of conversation from other tables, and they all seemed to be directed against the mare.

She had to turn her attention back as Miss Rich started, "I've got to say this: congratulations on your part in the show yesterday. It's not everyday that a mare gets to do something like that." She looked to her right at Bon Bon and Lyra as she said that. She paused before giving a short sigh and addressing Anya, "And you too, I suppose."

The not-so-subtle denigration did not go unnoticed, and Brush found herself subtly shaking her head at it. Anya hadn't said anything, and was probably ignoring it, but her ears did lower a little. Lyra was more open with her disapproval as she sent a disapproving look to Miss Rich. Only Bon Bon didn't seem to care, but that was probably because she sat right next to the source of the problem.

"As difficult as it is to work with Miss Belle, I would have probably taken the offer to join as well," Miss Rich continued. "But alas, I wasn't present when she became desperate. It's a shame; I would have probably been the star of the show."

"How so?" Lyra asked, disbelieving. Bon Bon whispered to her, probably to tell her to not offend the mare.

"Oh, it's simple, darling. Miss Belle had to grapple with a lot of... faults when she made those dresses. Covering up the little things in the mare took away from what she could truly do with her talent, not a problem that she would have faced with me. Despite that setback, she still managed to make all the mares look pretty. I commend her efforts and talent at dress-making and applying makeup."

"Makeup? I don't think anyone used it," Anya interjected.

"Hmm, I think that explains why the lights were so dim. It's hard to believe that some ponies think the night is good — a pig could have walked on stage and looked presentable in the night. Not that I'm calling anypony ugly." She then said quickly, "Even though some were close to it." She gave a haughty laugh at her joke. When nobody laughed along with her, she cleared her throat and continued, "But I digress. As I was saying, I commend Rarity's work. I would be her most loyal patron, if she weren't so disagreeable and unknowledgeable of the demands of high society on a socialite such as myself."

She then rambled on about high society, and dresses, and all other elitist nonsense that focused primarily on making her be both better than everyone but also severely disadvantaged by her position, and all that made Brush impatient. When she had settled in Ponyville, she had done it to pursue her art, and to avoid the 'high' society that had rooted itself in the city nad her family like a weed. Yet here she was, face to face with an almost literal caricature of snobbery. Brush glanced around the table and saw that the others were in a similar state of being annoyed by the mare.

Fortunately, Anya interrupted the lecture. "Hey, could you summarise?"

Miss Rich stopped and stared at Anya, probably thinking about how to reply. However, no quick response came, and instead, the silence reigned at the table. Being blankly stared at made Anya uncomfortable. She shrunk back a bit and averted eye contact. "I– it's just that I have to finish breakfast and get to work."

"Breakfast?" Miss Rich looked down at the half-eaten cookie Anya held, and then the plate of cookies on the table. She stared at it for a second, and then smiled. Brush's pupils instinctively thinned at that smile. "Hmm, that explains a lot."

"Explains what?" Anya asked.

"If that" — she pointed at the plate — "is your 'breakfast', then it explains quite a lot of things."

"Like what?"

Miss Rich smiled innocently. "Like how large your dress was yesterday."

"Hm?" Anya tilted her head a little, clearly not understanding the insult at first. Brush, meanwhile, frowned at the unprovoked attack. She was about to politely tell the mare to stop but she was cut off.

"I understand that you might not exactly see it — I doubt you see much anyway — but if you were to look at pictures, or even just in the mirror, you'll notice how... rotund you are," Miss Rich 'explained', her sweet voice extremely jarring. Beside her, at the behest of Lyra, Bon Bon half-heartedly tried shutting down the mare, but it was to no avail. "No offense," she added, smiling innocently.

"Are you calling me fat?" Anya was more direct in her response, but she wasn't calling the mare out. She put down the cookie as well. Brush glanced around, and found that some ponies from the other tables had taken an interest in whatever was about to go down.

Miss Rich smiled. "Oh, I'm sorry that that's the conclusion you came to. I was merely pointing out a physical feature, which anyone could. There are some other things as well." Of course, she wasn't done. If Brush went by experience, the old mare could go on and on about the 'faults' she saw, most of which were imagined or exaggerated. Her final goal was to put down whoever she disliked, and right now, it was her friend who was in her sights. Anya seemed to know where the mare was going with her words, but instead of telling her to shut up, she set her jaw and braced for whatever she'd say.

"I don't believe that anybody wants to hear what you have say," Brush interrupted her, making sure that the tone of her voice conveyed that she was not welcome to continue and should leave. If not that, then Brush's slit pupils and turned back ears would give her the hint.

However, Miss Rich didn't take the hint. She instead turned her nose up at her. "And who are you to talk to me, while I'm in the middle of things? I'll have you know that a civilised mare such as myself will not be talked down to by something as feral as you."

Brush didn't have a response to that. She had expected something vile from the mare, but not something so direct. Nobody at the table said anything, for they were stunned silent. Even in Canterlot, where the most uptight of unicorn nobility lived, nobody woud be bold enough to call her 'feral' to her face. Who was she to say things like that to her? Brush tried formulating a response to the insult as best as she could, but there wasn't anything coming to her mind besides several words and phrases that would make her stoop down to the terrible mare's level. Though it was tempting to give in to her anger, she chose to keep quiet and keep her paws in check.

Of course, the mare took advantage of the silence around the table and continued speaking to Anya.

"As I was saying," she restarted in that jarring sweet voice of hers. "It's not your only flaw, darling. Some might not have noticed it at the time, but I have an eye for detail—"

"Get to the point and get lost," Anya said, her ears turned back and her face twisted into a scowl. At first, Brush was a bit taken aback at the sudden outburst from her usually worry friend. However, that faded quickly as the conversation continued.

Miss Rich snorted, amused at being told what to do. "My my, you should control your temper—"

"You should control your tongue."

Miss Rich was no longer amused. She huffed and said, "Well, to put it simply, I think you made a lapse in judgement when you decided to go on stage. I was going to break it to you slowly, but you've forced my hoof. These roles where one is supposed to be pretty in the limelight, you're not suited for them in the slightest."

"Hey, you can't say that!" Lyra butted in, tired of Bon Bon's continued silence.

"Quiet down you, you're only marginally better than her at best." Bon Bon, who had been sitting like a statue finally had a reaction to the irritating mare — she glowered at her. "Now, where was I? Ah, yes, you. You know that the famous photographer Photo Finish was at the show?"

"Hm."

Miss Rich smirked. "Then you'll surely know that the pictures she took were published in the Canterlot Fashion magazine." Anya hummed in response. "To keep it short, the pictures did not capture your good side, not that there is much of it anyway. Though it pains me to say this, I admire your courage, being able to walk around freely with such hideous features. Then, there's the rather sharp jawline, and the squarish head..."

Anya remained stoic, her face at least. Her ears lowered, however. "Where are you going with that?" she asked curtly.

"Well, if you know about certain mentally ill people—" she was stopped from her meandering insult as Anya ran out of patience.

"If you're calling me retarded, say it to my face, and then go fuck yourself. If not, keep your mouth shut, and go fuck yourself. I do not have all day to waste, and even if I did, I wouldn't waste it on someone like you." Anya was louder this time, and at least one curious onlooker had turned away after hearing her vulgar reply.

Miss Rich was taken aback by the directness and the language, and she made a face like that of a fish out of water, which was admittedly very funny. However, Brush didn't laugh at that time. She instead hoped that the mare would get the message and get lost. Obviously, she didn't, because that'd be to easy.

The terrible old mare took a moment to recompose herself, and then she dived right back in. "Hmm, your just as ugly in the inside as you're on the outside, but that's hardly surprising for uncivilised cretins like yourself. It's a shame you choose this town of all places to inflict yourself, and it's a bigger shame that quite a few good ponies will have to see how truly wretched you are. Did I mention your terrible limp? It's rather hard to ignore."

Anya faltered a bit at the mention of her physical features, but she kept on with her verbal onslaught. "Cool, don't care. Get lost; nobody likes you. Also, did I mention how terrible your makeup is? You look like some dumb kid who got access to her mom's makeup crap." She wasn't afraid to lower herself to Rich's level, much to the amusement of the others.

Miss Rich turned her nose up at that. "As if you'd know anything about being a mare." She then leaned in close, and said with a predatory smile, "It's obvious that you don't have much experience in being a mare; you barely look like one."

Anya's ears lowered, but she didn't miss a beat as she replied, "And you barely even pass as a sentient creature, you overgrown germ. I suggest you don't talk any more shit and go back to the shithole you came from."

"Hmph." She sat up straight, and turned her nose up again."As if I plan to spend more time here anyway. This establishment is unpleasant as it is, and you only make it worse." She got up from her seat. "Have a day as pleasant as you are," she spat as a final retort.

"Fuck you too." Of course, Anya wouldn't let her have the pleasure of the final word. Miss Rich snorted, sent a mean look to everyone at the table, and then walked away, probably to waste someone else's time.

There was a moment of silence in which the ponies breathed a collective sigh of relief.

"Oh thank Faust she's gone!" Lyra said, slumping in her seat. She sat up straight quickly and turned to the stone-faced Bon Bon. "Why didn't you say anything to her?"

Bon Bon turned to look at her incredulously. "What? You know how she is!"

While the two had a little argument, Brush took the opportunity to talk to Anya. Anya had her head hung low, and she looked more troubled than relieved as she rubbed her eyes.

"Hey, are you fine?" Brush asked.

Anya put her hooves back down, and without looking her way, answered in a soft voice, trembling a bit, "Yeah, I'm alright."

She was lying and very obviously hurt by all that the mean old mare had said, but it wasn't something to get hung up on. Brush tightened her wing hug, and for just a moment, Anya leaned on her. She was quick to sit back straight though.

Being the good friend she was, Brush said, "You do know that Miss Rich was trying to provoke you. You aren't anything like she said."

Anya nodded slightly, keeping her gaze lowered and her expression a neutral the bordered on sad. Brush didn't sigh since that'd trouble Anya more.

"Hey, Anya, you alright?" Lyra asked, having ended her little argument on a positive note. Anya didn't respond, and seeing that, she continued, "You looked alright just a moment ago. What happened?"

"Nothing."

"Was it the... she was saying that you're trans, I think. Are you bummed about that?"

"..."

"Are you... what she said?"

Anya looked back down, finding the floor more interesting to look at whole she shifted uncomfortably. Brush chose to think about that later, and to stop Lyra now.

"She's just unhappy about all the insults from that nasty mare," Brush said quickly.

"Oh, okay." Lyra was going to say something else but Anya cut her off.

"It's about eight, I have to go," she said suddenly. She got up from her seat hastily and didn't wait for any reply as she left with her coffee in hoof.

"Bye, I guess," Bon Bon said, clearly not bothered by the sudden departure. Brush didn't stop to glare at her, getting up from her seat.

"I'll see if she's alright," Brush said to the two as she left as well, jogging to catch up with Anya.

Author's Note

16w Au

Be Spoiled Rich
Wake up, dress good, go outside
Find some rando, annoy her
follow her to bakery, be mean to losers for the lulz
leave
Spoiled Rich on that hater grindset.

This truly has been a shitty morning for Anya (at least she didn't get physically attacked)

Sorry for the long wait, it might happen again (not now). Updates will be slower due to school. RIP me, took 5 AP classes :'(

Also: 98 likes! LET'S FUCKING JOEEE!!! :D

Also also: did you know that cats can detect changes in air current using their whiskers? And that they're mostly near sighted? Well, I didn't until I wrote this chapter. Brush having glasses was purely a design choice earlier lol.

Unrelated, I saw this in a dream:

Reader input time!

Q: Should Anya get love (as in romance, i.e., kissing and other mushy stuff)? Elaborate on your answer please.

(It sure would be hilarious to give her someone to love and then take them away in a most brutal fashion (that'd be cliche though (but bad decisions are never off the table)). Who would she be shipped with though, if any of that even happens?)