Killerie was even with the table’s surface, her entire body lying close to the ground. Her eyes were half-closed as she squinted at the chessboard and the pieces atop it, trying to figure out how to win.
Madeline sat across her, an irritatingly neutral expression on her face with one leg folded on top of the other. The chessboard had noticeably more black than white pieces on it at the moment, a complex constellation of bishops and rooks and pawns dividing ecstatic victory from crushing defeat.
“This is why I like house rules,” Killerie muttered.
Her mom made a very un-momly snort. “You know, I don't think ‘find a new angle’ is supposed to be taken literally.”
“It worked for Chalcifur.”
“From the cartoon?”
Killerie replied with a noncommittal ‘hmmm’ as she tried to find a way to salvage victory, assessing her assembled troops. Two pawns left, one near the end, a bishop trapped by an enemy knight close to her own side, and a rook sticking close to her king.
“I don’t know how you set this up,” Killerie finally complained. “I got your queen really early.”
“Queens aren’t everything.”
“See, you say that, but they kind of are!” she protested. “They can do everything any of the other pieces can.”
“Except for the knights,” Madeline replied, reminding her how she’d lost her queen in this particular game, and Killerie grumbled a wordless protest against the rules of chess.
She kept staring at the board, musing on how she could win. The eventualities were obvious at the moment - move the pawn forward, enter check, escape, checkmate. Take a bishop with her rook, enter check, try to escape, checkmate. Move her king, checkmate. Move her other pawn forward one space and get a queen, enter check, try to escape, checkma-
Killerie paused.
...She didn’t have to get a queen, did she?
With a smug grin, she telekinetically moved her pawn forward one space, and Madeline automatically reached for the queen piece.
“Give me a knight!”
Madeline glanced up, plastic surprise written all over her face. “Really?”
Killerie nodded, her mind racing as her mom put the horse-shaped piece on the board. She started figuring out pathways, opening doors for ways she could use the newly obtained knight to somehow pull this back and win.
Madeline moved a bishop diagonally two spaces, ending on a black square with direct line of sight to Killerie’s king. “Checkmate.”
Killerie pouted in the way that only an eleven-foot centipede could as she started resetting the chessboard, picking up all of the pieces simultaneously and individually directing each one to their respective places.
Madeline stood up and headed past Killerie for the kitchen, tunelessly humming as she did. Killerie ignored her entirely, focused on making sure all of the pieces properly faced each other and that they were in the dead center of each square.
Once she was done, she straightened with a sigh and turned to find her mom filling a pair of glasses with milk from a measuring cup, steam rising from each one. Killerie squeaked in excitement, almost tripping over her legs again as she rushed into the kitchen.
Madeline smiled at her as she crouched, reaching under the counter to retrieve the powder for the hot chocolate. Killerie was almost dancing, hopping from leg to leg in alternating pairs all the way down her body as her mom got the hot chocolate ready.
Madeline stood with a frown, the can of hot chocolate mix notably absent. “We’re out of hot chocolate.”
Killerie’s mouth fell open, mandibles split wide in abject dismay. “We’re out!?”
Her mom nodded seriously. “I forgot to get more after your last molt.”
Killerie pouted, thinking for a few seconds. The past molt had been… well, she wanted to think ‘worse than normal’ but it’d been pretty much exactly as bad as all the other ones. Growing another pair of legs would never be comfortable, and hot chocolate was exactly the sort of thing to make her feel better afterwards.
Madeline shrugged, dismissing the issue. “We can head over to Coffee Shop and get some. Sound good?”
Killerie bobbed her head up and down in frenetic agreement, the wiggle returning to her legs. Her mom smiled at the sight. “Alright, go hop in the van and I’ll get my card.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The van in question was a blocky thing, the same shedling-approved shade of pasty white that most of their creations were. It had a smattering of scratches and dents, along with a few places where Killerie had creatively put up a few designs of her own - when she was younger, obviously. At any rate, the colorful splotches had long since been covered by paint.
Pulling the sliding door open with a thought, Killerie ungainly inserted herself into the back of the van. The back rows of seats had been removed to make space for her bulk, although a reinforced hammock made out of tow straps and rope had replaced them. All she had to do was curl her legs under her body and strap herself in.
Madeline hopped in the driver’s seat and started the van with a push, and it started up with a smooth purr. Pulling out of the garage, she headed down the driveway and off to Coffee Shop.
Killerie put her face as close to the window as she could manage without actually touching it, staring out at the houses of her neighbors passing by. None of them were identical, but that was more because the shedling Architects supposedly hated uniformity in design. They shared certain aspects - one or two stories, a garage, some modest landscaping. Several people were out jogging, their dogs sprinting ahead of them with the excitement and energy that canines seemed to have in inexhaustible supply.
As they left the concentric rings of the subdivision and the organized layout of the houses, their surroundings almost immediately changed to taller buildings with self-descriptive titles. The shopping district of Odman’s three hundred and fourteenth Preserve was a smaller place than the home district, mostly because a good number of people just didn’t want to work.
It was more active here, a bustling traffic of customers and visitors wandering from shop to shop. The contents of each store varied enormously. Woodworking, artistry, tattoo artists, recording studios, pet shops, restaurants, repair shops, therapists - almost every occupation had a representative building here, even if some of them didn’t have any temps in them, and every store’s exterior matched its purpose.
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Coffee Shop was exactly what it sounded like, a pleasant little place with plenty of large windows and wood paneling that served hot drinks. Coffee was, as far as Killerie could tell, an absolute necessity for humanity to function. Madeline certainly seemed to think so.
More to the point, there were quite a few people who liked experimenting with hot drinks, which meant Coffee Shop was always well-staffed with temps.
Madeline pulled into a free parking space and got out of the van, Killerie following suit. They waited for a moment so Killerie could get her legs under her, and then they headed inside.
Coffee Shop had quite a few people in it, despite it being in the early afternoon, and Killerie felt a familiar twinge of anxiety at all the faces she’d never seen. It eased somewhat as she scanned the people working behind the counter, and she promptly galumphed over to the gigantic human building a frappucino on the left-most side of the counter. “Hi Ciar! How are you?”
Ciar was one of the few people who could make Killerie feel small, mostly because he was standing on the edge of seven feet and was broad to boot. He had a mop of bristly black hair, and his skin was so tanned it was almost orange. He had a wrinkly face, but that was more from too much smiling than age, although she didn’t have the slightest idea how old he was.
As she approached, he gave her a blinding grin. “Killerie! How are you and your mum?”
“We’re doing okay! We ran out of hot chocolate, though.”
He nodded understandingly, capping the coffee cup in front of him with a plastic lid. “I’ll get right on that in a moment - AY! Ivona! Your drink’s ready!”
A shockingly pale woman sidled past Killerie, watching her out of the corner of her eye, and grabbed the cup from Ciar. Backing away, she pivoted, walked to the back of the shop, and left through the exit furthest from the giant centipede.
Killerie ignored her as her mom walked up to the counter. Ciar somehow greeted Madeline with an even bigger grin. “Miss Parker! Your kid was just telling me you two need some hot chocolate. You got any preferences on additions?”
Madeline shook her head with a faint smile. “Put whatever you think I’ll like in it. Killerie?”
Killerie agreed, and Ciar loudly clapped. “Alright then! For Miss Parker I’m thinking ground peppermint and a carmel shot, and for Killerie I was going to put some cinnamon and chocolate bits in, and maybe a glop of honey. How do you feel about whipped cream?”
Both mother and daughter nodded, and Ciar slapped the surface of the counter. He had a tendency to express himself through violent motions, as far as Killerie could tell. She’d never met someone who could make so many noises with their hands.
He held a finger up, forestalling their departure. “Oh, that booth in the back should be open. Feel free to hang out for a bit, at least until I can chat with you guys properly.”
Madeline led Killerie to the table in question. It was the only corner table in the Coffee Shop. It had a bench folding around the corner, and was also the only seat that could comfortably fit her size.
Once she deposited her bulk on the extended seat, there wasn’t much to do except wait. Absently looking around Coffee Shop, Killerie noticed one of the baristas glaring at her.
He was a relatively small boy, with an uneven tan contrasting mellow skin that suggested he’d been wearing a hat for a long time. He had shockingly frizzy blond hair and almond eyes screwed up in a scowl very pointedly aimed at her.
She awkwardly looked away, muttering, “Mom, that guy’s staring at me.”
Madeline leaned forward to make out what Killerie had said. Twisting her head around, she shot the barista a far fiercer glare, and he flinched.
Turning back to Killerie, she said, “Good job telling me. If you see anyone else, let me know and I’ll take care of it. Okay, bean?”
He was once again scowling at Killerie. She’d seen plenty of fear, and a good bit of wariness, but this was the first time she’d seen blatant hatred directed at her. It was a deeply uncomfortable feeling, not unlike molting.
Pulling her attention back to the present, she gave her mother a weak smile, trying to keep her antennae from twitching. Inwardly, she begged whoever might be listening - Zilian, maybe - that Ciar would bring their drinks over and she could go home, wrap up in her blankets with her plushies, and forget about him.
It was a few minutes, but Ciar eventually bellowed from the back of the shop, “AY! Misses Parker and Parker! I got your drinks ready!”
Someone came around the corner of the counter holding their drinks, and there was a stuttering moment of cruel reality acknowledging itself before Killerie realized it was the boy who had been glaring at her. He now bore an expression which was impossible to mistake for anything except rancid malice.
Killerie’s stomach launched up to her throat and she squirmed away from the approaching teenager, almost falling in Madeline’s lap in the process. "Mom-" She hiccuped, trying to get away and finding nowhere to escape to.
Madeline grabbed Killerie, trying to look her in the eye. People were looking over at the wriggling centipede. "Killerie, what's wrong?"
Killerie heard a faint pop as the boy flicked the lids off the cups, and she saw steam rising from each one. He was too close now, and she found herself unable to say a word as he tripped forward, jerked the cups towards them, and accurately sent thirty-two ounces of hot chocolate at Killerie's face.
She barely managed to close her eyes in time, a jagged shriek building in her throat as the boiling-hot liquid impacted the soft flesh under her jaw and mandibles, and the world dissolved into a white sheen of static. The pain shot up to agony and beyond and then muted, disappearing into the backdrop of the static.
She couldn't open her eyes. There was still scalding liquid on her face, she couldn't see, it was dark, it was dark, where was-
Arms wrapped around her upper neck and head, and she jerked away before she recognized the firm grip of her mother. The static filling her ears faded slightly, and she heard Madeline’s voice through the noise. "...ou okay? Killerie, can you hear me?!"
"I can hear you," Killerie blurted, and she realized that if she had been able to cry she would have been sobbing. "M-Mom, it hurts."
There was a pause before her mom spoke again, and Killerie could hear her voice hitch. "Can you walk?"
Killerie blindly nodded, even though she was trying not to move, and her mom firmly put a hand on her lower stomach. Something soft was pressed against her face, and a few passes later, the majority of the hot chocolate was off her face. Madeline slowly guided Killerie out of the booth, talking in a soothing voice. "Let's get you to the van, okay?"
"O-Okay."
Treading slowly and carefully, Killerie allowed herself to be led. A constant, unwinnable conflict was taking place, and the battlefield was split between her brain and her instincts. She was walking blind, anything could happen, but she knew she shouldn’t open her eyes if there was any hot chocolate left on her face.
They paused a moment later, and her mom told her, “We’re by the van. Do you think you can get in?”
Killerie badly wished she could cry. “I-I don’t know.”
“Oh, bean...” Her mom sounded like she was about to cry, which only scared Killerie even more. How bad did it look? How hot had the drinks been!?
An arm wrapped around her back, hooked beneath a carapace plate. “I’m going to help you in, okay? Step up… now.”
Killerie wriggled forward, legs straining to find the edge of the van step and discovering it closer than expected. Her mom heaved upward, and Killerie scrabbled into the vehicle, automatically ducking as her antennae brushed across the ceiling.
Her hearing was slowly recovering, and she heard the van door slam shut. Slowly, gradually, sound began to come through the white noise in her head. “Mom?” she asked.
A hand immediately pulled her head forward between the driver’s seat and shotgun, and she barely felt the kiss planted on her forehead. “I’m so sorry, bean. We’re going to get you home, okay?”
Killerie barely nodded, not wanting to move away from her mother. “O-okay.”
After a few seconds, Killerie felt her mom’s weight shift. The sound of a canister opening filtered through her senses, and then her mom worriedly asked, “Bean, do you think you can eat these?”
Killerie nosed forward until she felt Madeline’s other hand bump into her forehead. Careful not to move the burned flesh of her neck and upper stomach, she opened her mouth and tilted her head backward. She felt a few small pills fall into her mouth a moment later, and she bit down on them. They were bitter, but if they could get rid of the burning pain, she was willing to stomach far worse.
She felt a slight jerk as the van backed out of the parking space, and then they took off in smooth movements, heading for home and comfort.
Killerie just… didn’t get it. She couldn’t understand why.
Why did that boy hate her so much? She’d - she’d never met him! It wasn’t her - it couldn’t be her fault.
So why did she feel like it was? Why was she so miserable?
She pushed into her mom’s hand, and Madeline started rubbing her carapace with slow, reassuring motions.