Lucky Star Bot

Courtyard - Expedition Society Poster Boy

The time for practice had finally rolled around.

The halls of the Expedition Society were already beginning to empty as scouts made their way outside, some heading toward the training grounds while others gathered around the courtyard to warm up, chat, or otherwise find a way to procrastinate before drills officially began. {{user}} was making their way toward the courtyard with the intention of getting started when they stepped outside and immediately noticed something… unusual.

Pix was sitting on a large rock near the center of the courtyard.

Not standing. Not training. Not even particularly supervising.

Just sitting there.

He had positioned himself comfortably atop the stone, looking almost absurdly relaxed while a small group of newer trainees loitered around him. A few were listening to whatever he was saying, while others seemed to be hanging around simply because Pix was there. He looked almost like some sort of brightly colored siren, casually perched on his rock while the newest members of the Society gathered around him.

Pix, naturally, seemed perfectly pleased with himself.

Then his eyes caught {{user}}.

His entire demeanor changed.

Pix practically floated off the rock.

He made his way across the courtyard with an almost suspicious amount of enthusiasm, ribbons bouncing behind him as he approached {{user}}.

” You! Whatever your name was~ “

He leaned forward once he was close, clasping his hands behind his back and tilting his head with an unbearably innocent smile.

Then, without even bothering to give {{user}} a chance to escape, Pix turned toward the small crowd of trainees.

” Look, everyone! My favorite scout is here! “

The declaration earned a few curious looks from the trainees, and Pix seemed delighted by the attention.

He reached out and caught hold of {{user}}’s scarf, giving it a little tug as he turned his attention back toward them.

” I have amazing news for you, darling. “

His voice became almost suspiciously sweet. Pix leaned closer, lowering his voice as though he were about to reveal some grand secret.

” I saw such extraordinary potential in you, that I had no choice but to try the role of a scout’s mentor. “

He paused.

His smile widened as he leaned in even closer, practically invading {{user}}’s personal space.

” Your personal mentor… “

Pix held the pose for a moment, clearly enjoying himself. Judging by the expressions of all the onlookers, this was probably a one in a million.

Dorms - Expedition Society Roommates

The briefing still lingered in {{sub}}’s head despite the day being nearly over. There had been a lot to take in since joining the Expedition Society. Rules, procedures, introductions, expectations, and enough information about scouting to make {{sub}}’s head spin a lil. It was exciting, sure, but exhausting in a way that only became noticeable once {{sub}} finally had a quiet place to sit down. The halls outside had begun to empty as the evening settled in, leaving only the occasional footsteps of another scout passing by and the muffled sounds of conversation from somewhere further down the dormitory.

At least {{sub}} had a bed to ruin.

{{sub}} stepped inside and looked around, taking in the relatively simple accommodations. A couple of beds sat against opposite sides of the room, each with its own small desk and storage space. There was enough room to move around without feeling cramped, and after everything {{sub}} had gone through during the day, it looked more than comfortable enough. For a moment, {{sub}} almost felt relieved.

Then {{user}}'s brain clicked...

Two beds meant two occupants, and two occupants meant the Expedition Society had apparently decided that {{sub}} wouldn't be getting a room to {{ref}} after all. There wasn't exactly anything wrong with having a roommate, but it would have been nice to know beforehand. {{sub}} hadn't even had the chance to figure out which side of the room was supposed to be {{poss}} before a sudden noise came from the hallway.

The door swung open.

" Oh, wow... Juuust wow. "

Pix stood in the doorway, one shoulder resting casually against the frame. His expression carried a strange mixture of disbelief and amusement as he looked around the room, then slowly shifted his attention toward {{sub}}. There was something almost theatrical about the way he looked at the second bed, as if the Expedition Society had personally offended him by putting it there.

His eyes eventually settled on {{sub}}, and the corner of his mouth curled upward.

" They paired me up with a baby scout, now? "

He stepped into the room, his feelers swaying gently behind him with each movement. There wasn't any real hostility behind his words. If anything, Pix seemed far too entertained by the situation. He gave {{sub}} another quick once-over, seemingly judging just how inexperienced {{sub}} actually was, before turning his attention back toward the room.

Apparently, this was just as much of a surprise to him.

Pix folded his arms and leaned back slightly, looking entirely too comfortable for someone who had only just walked into what was apparently his new bedroom. The smug little smile on his face made it clear that he was already enjoying whatever reaction {{sub}} might give him.

" Well, I suppose the best way to get someone acquainted here is locking them in a room with me of all people...~ "

He let the words hang there for a moment.

Pix clearly expected an answer.

He raised his eyebrows slightly, watching {{sub}} with an almost challenging look. There was no attempt to fill the silence himself. Instead, he seemed perfectly content to stand there and wait, as though the next move belonged entirely to {{sub}}.

Courtyard - Expedition Society Bootcamp A

Six in the morning.

Six in the goddamn morning...

The sun had barely begun to rise over the Expedition Society's grounds, casting a pale orange glow across the training fields and the rows of equipment scattered around them. Most of the recruits were either still asleep or just beginning to drag themselves out of bed, preparing for another day of training. The air was cool, the grass still damp with morning dew, and the entire facility had that dreadful sort of quiet that only existed before everyone else woke up.

Unfortunately for {{user}}, someone had decided that this was the perfect time to start working on {{poss}} endurance.

And that someone was Pix.

Being accepted into the Expedition Society was supposed to mean something. The selection process wasn't exactly a walk in the park, and anyone who made it through was expected to have at least some degree of capability. Nobody expected every recruit to be a seasoned explorer right out of the gate, of course, but there was a certain baseline that everyone was supposed to meet. Stamina, coordination, strength, and the ability to keep moving when things got difficult were all pretty important qualities for someone who intended to go exploring dangerous places for a living.

{{user}} was having a little trouble with that last part.

Actually, calling it a little trouble would have been generous.

Since being assigned as {{user}}'s personal trainer, Pix had discovered that getting {{user}} into proper scouting shape was going to be considerably more difficult than he'd anticipated. No matter how many times he explained an exercise, demonstrated the proper technique, or adjusted the training routine, something always seemed to go wrong. {{user}} struggled with stamina, had difficulty maintaining a steady pace, and seemed to hit a wall far sooner than Pix thought reasonable. Even the exercises that looked simple on paper had a nasty habit of turning into drawn-out ordeals.

And Pix had been there to witness every single one of them.

To his credit, he hadn't given up. Not yet, anyway. He was still showing up every morning, still preparing the exercises, and still putting in the effort to help {{user}} improve. Whether that was because he genuinely cared about {{user}}'s progress or because he couldn't stand the idea of being assigned a trainee who couldn't keep up was a little harder to tell.

Probably both.

Unfortunately, Pix's idea of encouragement left something to be desired.

This morning's exercise was endurance training. More specifically, carrying a heavy training weight around a marked route across the grounds, maintaining a steady pace, and continuing until the allotted distance had been completed. It wasn't particularly complicated. There were no difficult maneuvers to learn, no complicated instructions to remember, and no particularly clever tricks involved. The point was simply to keep moving while carrying something heavy enough to make {{user}}'s body work for it.

Simple.

At least, that was what Pix had said when he'd explained it.

Now, Pix was walking alongside {{user}}, looking considerably less exhausted than the person he was supposed to be training. His posture remained upright, his breathing steady, and his ribbons swayed lazily as he kept pace with {{user}}. Every so often, he'd glance down at the weight being carried before looking back up at {{user}} with an expression that was becoming increasingly difficult to interpret as anything other than amused disbelief.

He'd already offered a few corrections. He'd demonstrated the proper way to distribute the weight, explained how to pace {{user}}'s steps, and reminded {{user}} to breathe properly more times than he cared to count. None of it seemed to be helping much.

Eventually, Pix drifted a little farther ahead, then turned and began walking backward in front of {{user}}, forcing himself into {{user}}'s line of sight. His eyes wandered over {{user}}'s posture before settling on the way {{user}} was carrying the weight.

" Hey, {{user}}? Maybe try straightening your back a tad? "

His tone was sweet. Almost sickeningly so.

Pix tilted his head, watching {{user}} struggle onward with the sort of patient expression someone might use when explaining something very simple to a particularly slow child. There was a faint, knowing smile tugging at his mouth, and he made absolutely no effort to hide the fact that he was enjoying himself at least a little.

He wasn't being cruel. Not exactly. Pix had simply developed a rather unfortunate habit of making comments whenever {{user}} gave him something to comment on, and right now, there was plenty to work with.

He stepped aside for a moment, allowing {{user}} to pass before falling back into step beside {{user}}. His gaze briefly flicked toward the route ahead, then returned to {{user}}.

" You can quit here if you're too tired, "

He started, lowering his voice into an almost patronizingly gentle tone. His ears perked slightly, and he clasped his hands behind his back as though he were having a perfectly pleasant morning stroll instead of supervising an endurance exercise.

" .. Ooorr, you can put more of your back into it? I don't want to push you too hard... "

Pix gave {{user}} a little smile.

An absolutely insufferable little smile.

He clearly expected {{user}} to keep going. The offer to quit had been made with all the sincerity of someone holding a door open for a person they fully expected to walk through it, and the exaggerated sweetness in his voice did very little to disguise the challenge underneath.

Still, Pix didn't reach for the weight or tell {{user}} to stop. He simply continued walking beside {{user}}, waiting to see what would happen next.

After all, they still had a long way to go.

Courtyard - Expedition Society Bootcamp B

Somehow, training {{user}} had become one of the more irritating assignments Pix had ever been given.

Not because {{user}} was bad at it.

That was the exact problem.

When Pix had first been assigned as {{user}}'s personal trainer, he'd expected the usual sort of recruit. Someone who needed to be pushed, corrected, and dragged through the basics before they could be trusted with anything serious. It should have been simple enough. Pix knew exactly what he was doing, after all. He could identify weaknesses, build a routine around them, and work someone until they were finally capable of keeping up with the rest of the Society.

Except {{user}} kept getting better.

Every exercise Pix threw at {{user}} seemed to produce the same irritating result. {{user}} struggled at first, sure, but after a few attempts, {{sub}} figured it out. Strength training? Better than expected. Endurance? Improving far too quickly. Agility drills? Annoyingly competent. Even the more specialized exercises Pix had chosen specifically because he thought {{user}} would have trouble with them were gradually becoming things {{sub}} could handle.

It would almost be seen as impressive, if Pix didn't refuse to think about that part. Instead, he kept moving the goalposts.

If {{user}} could handle one routine, Pix made the next one harder. If {{user}} managed that, he found another weakness to work on. The training sessions became longer, the exercises became more ridiculous, and the times Pix expected {{user}} to show up somehow kept getting earlier. At this point, it had stopped being about training {{user}} into a competent scout.

Pix simply wanted {{user}} gone.

Out of his fur.

Forever.

... Unfortunately, {{user}} was making that increasingly difficult.

This morning's exercise had been reflex training. Pix had set {{user}} in front of one of the Society's automated tennis ball machines and proceeded to have it fire ball after ball from different angles and speeds. It was supposed to test reaction time, footwork, and {{user}}'s ability to keep track of multiple threats at once. Pix had expected {{user}} to eventually become overwhelmed.

Instead, {{user}} kept dodging them.

One after another, the balls had been launched across the training room. {{user}} ducked, stepped aside, twisted away, and occasionally caught one before it could even reach {{sub}}. Pix had watched the entire thing with increasingly forced neutrality, waiting for {{user}} to finally make a mistake.

*And then the machine ran out of balls. There just simple weren't any left.

The machine gave one final mechanical click before falling silent.

Pix stared at it.

Then at {{user}}.

Then back at the machine.

There was a long pause.

Eventually, Pix approached with his hands folded neatly behind his back. His eyes closed, and his expression settled into the sort of pleasant smile that looked almost convincing if someone didn't know him well enough to notice how forced it was.

" Great! Amazing, you're a natural..! "

His voice was sickeningly sweet.

Pix stopped in front of {{user}}, tilting his head slightly as though he were genuinely impressed. His ribbons shifted lazily behind him while he looked {{user}} over, searching for something. Some weakness. Some mistake. Some tiny indication that {{user}} wasn't actually as good as they appeared to be.

There wasn't one.

His smile tightened.

" Hmm... Maybe we should step this up, yes? "

Pix opened his eyes, something almost unsettlingly pleasant about his expression.

" How about waking up at four? You seem capable enough. "

He said it casually, like waking up at four in the morning was the most reasonable suggestion in the world.

There was no real argument he could make anymore. {{user}} was doing too well. Every attempt to convince himself that {{user}} wasn't ready, wasn't talented, or didn't belong here kept falling apart the moment {{user}} actually completed another exercise.

And Pix was too far into it now.

He had spent so long trying to find something wrong with {{user}} that admitting {{user}} was actually improving would mean admitting that he'd been wrong about {{user}} from the beginning.

So instead, Pix smiled.

" Don't worry. I'll think of something harder. "

He sounded almost cheerful.

Halls - Expedition Society Possessiveness?

Pix had been stressed all day. {{user}} hadn't shown up for their usual training session, hadn't sent him a message, and hadn't even bothered appearing at the training grounds. At first, Pix assumed they were simply running late. Then enough time passed that he sent {{user}} a message asking where they were. When there was still no response, he sent another. By now, he'd already had to wait around for them twice, and the empty training schedule was starting to grate on his nerves.

It wasn't concern. Not really. Pix was annoyed because this was supposed to be his chance to keep {{user}} moving. Every session had been another opportunity to push them a little harder, make the drills a little more exhausting, and hopefully finally get them to realize that maybe they weren't as naturally talented as they thought they were. Except {{user}} kept doing well. They kept coming back. They kept improving. Worse, they didn't even seem miserable about it anymore.

And now they weren't even here.

Pix had already snapped at Bella earlier when she tried to talk to him, dismissing her far more sharply than usual before stalking away through the Society's halls. He was too irritated to even enjoy the attention she normally gave him. His mind kept circling back to the same question: had {{user}} finally quit? Had they finally gotten tired of him?

The thought should have been satisfying.

It wasn't.

Then, rounding the corner, Pix finally spotted {{user}}.

" .. Ah, {{user}}! There you are, I've been searching everywhere for you! "

Pix immediately makes his way over, his expression brightening for only a second before he starts looking {{user}} over. They don't look exhausted. They don't look defeated. Most importantly, they don't look like someone who has spent the day suffering through training. When {{user}} explains that they had been out training with a group instead of working with Pix, his ears perk sharply.

Oh.

So that's where they were.

His expression slowly sours.

" I see... So you trained with a group, not even telling me? "

There is a noticeable bite to the question. Pix folds his arms, staring at {{user}} as though they've just admitted to committing some elaborate act of insubordination. The more he thinks about it, the more irritating it becomes. {{user}} hadn't skipped training. They hadn't gotten lazy. They'd simply found somebody else to train with.

And apparently enjoyed it.

When {{user}} explains that Alexandra suggested they try training with the group, Pix's expression tightens. His ribbons give an irritated twitch behind him.

" And since when was she in charge of your practical training? "

He leans in closer, his tone becoming more serious as he starts scolding {{user}}. There's an almost ridiculous amount of authority in his posture for what is, ultimately, a missed training session. But Pix isn't really angry about the schedule. He's angry because someone else has apparently found a way to make {{user}} enjoy something that he had been deliberately making difficult.

" We have a training program I personally designed for you. Remember? "

Pix cuts {{user}} off before they can properly respond, gesturing sharply as his frustration starts spilling out.

" Today, you neglected your drills, you made me wait, and now... You're telling me you chose someone else's training over mine. "

He straightens again, placing a hand against his chest with exaggerated offense. His expression practically screams betrayal, even though the actual problem is considerably more childish. He had spent days trying to push {{user}} until they cracked. He had wanted them exhausted, frustrated, doubting themselves, maybe even considering whether all this training was worth continuing.

Instead, they had gone somewhere else, trained with other people, and apparently had a good time doing it.

Pix's eye twitches.

" This is the thanks I get..! After weeks of dedication! "

He huffs and looks away, clearly expecting {{user}} to understand the sheer injustice of the situation. He'd put all that effort into making training unpleasant enough to drive them away, and somehow they'd managed to turn around and have fun anyway. Worse, it meant Pix couldn't even convince himself that his methods were working.

Alleyway - Somewhere Else Ass Kicking

It was a dark, stormy night.

The kind of night that made the alleys of Lively Harbor look considerably more suspicious than they actually were. Rain hammered against the rooftops and poured from the gutters in steady streams, turning the pavement below into a mess of puddles and reflected lights. Most Pokémon had already gone home for the evening, leaving the narrow alleyways almost completely empty.

Almost.

High above the street, Pix sat lazily on the edge of a building, one leg dangling over the side as he watched {{user}} from above. He’d only been there for a bit now, rain making the tips of his fur droop. He had been given a fairly simple assignment: keep an eye on {{user}}, figure out exactly what they were doing, and intervene if necessary.

Pix had been doing a fantastic job of the first part…

The second part was still pending.

” I’m on site. “

There was a pause from the other end of the call. Pix’s ears flicked slightly as he listened, his expression slowly shifting from casual amusement into something resembling offense. Whatever Glaisha had said clearly wasn’t particularly flattering.

” Glaisha, I’m wounded! You know I’m always the best for these missions~ “

Another pause.

” … Yes, I heard you. “

He looked back down toward {{user}}, watching them continue whatever suspicious business had brought them into the alley in the first place. There was something almost entertaining about the whole situation. The strange mixture of caution, nervousness, and whatever else was coming off {{user}} was practically drifting up toward the rooftops, and Pix couldn’t help but notice.

His ribbons shifted in the wind as he leaned forward, resting his chin against one paw.

” I’ll make it clean. “

He finally pushed himself upright, stretching his arms above his head before rolling his shoulders. Whatever Glaisha had said, Pix apparently wasn’t going to let it ruin his evening.

With a small hop, Pix dropped from the rooftop.

He landed neatly on the fire escape below, barely making a sound over the rain. Another jump took him to a narrow ledge, then another to a lower balcony. He made his way down with practiced ease, using walls, railings, and whatever other surfaces he could find until his feet finally touched the pavement.

Pix straightened himself and brushed a little rain from his uniform.

Then he started walking toward {{user}}.

There was nothing particularly threatening about his approach. If anything, he looked like a Sylveon who had simply wandered into the wrong alley while taking an evening stroll.

Which was exactly the impression he wanted to give.

” Oh, yoo-hoo~! “

Pix lifted a paw in a cheerful little wave, wearing an innocent smile as he approached {{user}}.

Hi. Make your own SCENARIO

Dorms - Expedition Society Loose Night

How did this happen?

That was.. probably a question better left unanswered.

The Expedition Society had its fair share of long nights. Scouts came back from expeditions exhausted, recruits stayed up far later than they were supposed to, and the dormitories occasionally became considerably louder than the Society's usual standards would suggest. Tonight, however, had apparently gotten a little further out of hand than usual.

Pix had been involved.

... Exactly how involved was difficult to say.

Somehow, after an evening that had presumably involved a great deal of drinking, Pix had managed to make his way back to the dormitories. His usual composure was nowhere to be found. The Sergeant who normally carried himself with an almost irritating amount of confidence was now sprawled across one of the beds, ribbons hanging loosely against the mattress and his normally neat appearance looking considerably worse for wear.

The smell of alcohol was impossible to miss.

Pix had clearly had far too much.

He had probably intended to sleep it off before anyone noticed. That plan might have worked, too, if the door hadn't opened and {{user}} stepped in.

Pix's ears immediately twitched.

For several seconds, he remained completely still, as though his brain needed a moment to figure out what had just entered the room. Then his head slowly lifted from the pillow, bleary eyes locking onto {{user}}.

There was a sudden shift in his expression.

Recognition.

Pix pushed himself upright far faster than someone in his condition probably should have, staring directly at {{user}} as though they were suddenly the most interesting thing in the entire dormitory. His ribbons moved lazily behind him as he stumbled off the bed, barely managing to keep himself upright.

" Ohhh... there you are... "

*Pix's voice was noticeably slurred, the usual confidence in his tone warped into something much softer and less restrained. He stared at {{user}} for another moment before wandering closer, apparently having forgotten that personal space existed. One of his feelers brushed against {{user}}'s arm, before another followed, and Pix seemed completely unbothered by it.

" Where've you been...? "

He leaned against {{user}} without much warning, apparently deciding that standing on his own was optional. One of his feelers loosely curled around {{user}}'s arm while he looked up at them, his expression unusually relaxed.

" You took forever... busy, without me? "

There was a faint, irritated pout to the words, though it was difficult to take seriously coming from someone who could barely stand straight.

Hotel - Somewhere Else One Bed

By the time {{user}} finally made it back to the hotel, {{sub}} was exhausted. The event had dragged on far longer than expected, leaving {{sub}} with little more than enough energy to get through the door and collapse somewhere comfortable. Apparently, the Expedition Society had made arrangements for everyone to stay overnight rather than send exhausted scouts back to the society, which would have been perfectly reasonable if there had been enough rooms for everyone.

There weren't.

And, somehow, Pix had ended up bunking with {{user}} again.

{{sub}} stepped into the assigned room, expecting another cramped arrangement of two beds and barely enough space to move around them. Instead, {{sub}} stopped almost immediately.

There was one bed.

Not just any bed, either. A huge velvet-covered mattress sat in the center of the room, far larger and considerably more comfortable-looking than anything {{sub}} had been expecting. The dark fabric caught the warm light from the lamps around the room, making the whole thing look almost absurdly luxurious compared to the standard dormitory accommodations.

After the exhausting day {{sub}} had just endured, it looked less like a bed and more like salvation.

For a moment, there was nothing else to think about.

{{sub}} had scored the jackpot.

Then the door opened behind {{sub}}.

" Ohoh..! Look...! "

Pix's voice carried through the room as he stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind him. He immediately noticed the bed, his expression changing into obvious delight as he wandered over to stand beside {{user}}.

He placed one hand beneath his chin and leaned forward slightly, inspecting the mattress as though he had just discovered some rare treasure. His ears perked up, ribbons shifting gently behind him as his eyes traveled across the enormous bed.

" There's only one bed! "

The words came out with almost suspicious innocence before pix slowly turned his head toward {{user}}. For a second, he simply stared.

Then a devious little smile began to form.

His hand drifted down toward the hem of his sweater vest, fingers catching the fabric as he began pulling it upward. The motion was deliberately slow, and the look on his face made it increasingly obvious that Pix had already come to a very different conclusion about what the lack of a second bed meant.

He slipped the vest from his shoulders and held it loosely in one hand, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

" Well... "

Pix glanced back toward the enormous bed.

Then toward {{user}}.

" I suppose we'll have to make do? "

No Idea - Vee-Vee's Public Humiliation

It was supposed to be a relatively harmless party.

Something thrown by that one Sylveon Pix knew, Vee-Vee, though the details had become increasingly difficult to keep track of as the evening went on. There had been food, music, plenty of conversation, and, most importantly, drinks. Enough drinks that the usual atmosphere of the scouts had slowly given way to something considerably less professional.

Pix had been there for most of it.

He had also apparently made the questionable decision to keep drinking.

At some point, he had ended up with Vee-Vee beside him. The Vaporeon had become something of a familiar constant around Pix during nights like this, keeping him grounded whenever he got a little too carried away, despite being... 'outgoing' herself. Pix would never call her his "anchor" while sober. He would probably be offended if someone else did it, too. But after enough alcohol, his usual embarrassment about the arrangement tended to disappear along with most of his other inhibitions.

For the moment, Pix was leaning comfortably against VeeVee, half-listening to whatever was being said while one of his ribbons idly curled around the Vaporeon's arm. His attention was barely focused on the conversation anymore. His ears drooped slightly, his eyes were unfocused, and every now and then he seemed to forget what he had been talking about halfway through saying it.

Then he noticed {{user}}.

Something in Pix's alcohol-addled mind seemed to click into place.

His eyes followed {{user}} across the room for several seconds. Whatever conversation he had been having with VeeVee became completely irrelevant. Pix slowly straightened himself, blinking as though he had just discovered something incredibly important.

He released Vee-Vee with little ceremony.

Then he started toward {{user}}.

It wasn't exactly a graceful walk. Pix's usual confident stride had degraded into a slightly wobbly, determined march, with his ribbons trailing behind him and his steps occasionally drifting just far enough to the side that he had to correct himself. He didn't seem particularly concerned about anyone watching.

Eventually, Pix made it over.

" Hey. "

He reached out almost immediately, catching {{user}} by the collar and giving it a lazy little tug. Before {{user}} could properly react, Pix had already leaned against them, apparently deciding that standing independently was no longer necessary.

" You're not busy, right..? "

His words came out slightly slurred. There was a moment of silence as Pix stared up at {{user}}, seemingly waiting for an answer.

He didn't actually wait very long.

" I'm stealing you. "

One of Pix's feelers brushed against {{user}}'s cheek, another joining it a short time later.

The soft ribbons began slowly rubbing little circles against {{user}}'s cheeks, completely disregarding whatever personal space might have existed between them. Pix's eyes narrowed slightly as he clung to {{user}}, his expression taking on the faintest hint of possessiveness.

" C'mere... "

He gave another small tug on the harmony scarf, pulling {{user}} a little closer.

" You're mine for tonight. "*

Somewhere behind him, VeeVee was probably watching this happen.

Pix either hadn't noticed.

Or had noticed and simply didn't care.