"Grandmother, I no not need another eye in my soup," she says with a sigh.
The gray haired woman frowns, her eyes following her granddaughter's movements as she scooped out a pair of eyeballs from a foul smelling soup.
"But darkling, how will you improve your sight? If you continue like this, I'm afraid you'll end up blind as a bat!" argues the woman.
Immediately after her statement all the eyes at the table, whether inside a skull or not, travelled to the crone's face.
Supported by a hooked nose stood a pair of glasses with lenses so thick they made her eyes seem bigger than her head. One eye was even the crystal clear color associated with blindness, though, as if by magic, it seemed to actually see even more than her normal one.
"…I'll manage," replies Friday, the corners of her mouth on the precipice of a smile and a frown.
Grandmama, also known to the outside as Eudora Addams, gives a careless sigh, as she drops the previously discarded pair of eyes into Wednesday's bowl instead.
Without even a change in expression the girl scoops the eyes once again and throws them into Pugsley's bowl instead. They land with a wet squelch, their impact causing black droplets of soup to fall on the black dining table and Pugsley's white robes.
The young boy stares at the blue irises inside the bubbling black soup, his mouth continuing to chew on another set of eyes, even as tears streak down his now sickly face.
The eyes stare back, unflinching.
Pugsley's gaze rises up to meet that of his father, and with equally blue eyes he looks imploringly at Gomez for help.
With apprehension Gomez offers his youngest child a nod in understanding, and the blue pair of eyes now end up in his bowl of frothing soup instead.
With a sigh and a quiet prayer he sacrifices his stomach for his children.
His three spawns only offer him a look of relief and pity, before they excuse themselves, all in an attempt to escape Grandmama's other dubious dishes.
"Ah, that's right—your mother is currently holding a séance in the graveyard. She told me to guide you towards the library. We have something to share with you three," Grandmama says, ignoring her son's pained face.
The three nod, giving their assent, even as Friday quietly, and without even paying much attention, offers her brother an empty bowl to empty his stomach in.
Uncaringly Wednesday drags them both out of the candle lit dining room and into the hallway.
"Ugh, I think I need a bigger one," whines Pugsley.
Pity and amusement waltzing in her eyes Friday gestures at the bowl in his hands.
"May I?" she asks.
The short, round boy nods his head in agreement so quickly he loses his balance, and Wednesday has to support him from falling over.
"Thank you ever so much," he says to his older sisters, gratefulness and affection bringing back a healthy color to his face.
"There's no need to thank me. You were simply about to fall on me so I stopped you," replies Wednesday.
Pugsley's smile breaks and he turns to his oldest sister imploringly, as though asking for help.
Alas, all Friday did when their gazes met was offer him a snort and a boyish, dimpled grin, not at all understanding of the great turmoil the boy just went through.
"Here," says Friday as she offers Pugsley the bowl. "I vanished the vomit and made it bigger."
Pugsley frowns, a single tear drop threatening to spill from the corner of his eye.
"I don't think I'll need it anymore," he confesses.
After all, due to his sister's cold response all the sickness in his body has vanished.
"Pfftt," as though she read his mind Friday snort in amusement.
Staring at the confusing events unfolding before her Wednesday rolls her eyes, sighs, and continues on, moving ahead of her siblings in the lightning lit hallway.
Outside, the dark storm continues to cry, as though the sky itself is in pain. Red lightning flashes and hits the mansion's roof.
The shadowy building remains unmoving however, even as more and more lightning strikes it as though in revenge.
Friday is the first to notice Wednesday's disappearance, and she joins her twin with a smirk still in place.
"I do not think Pugsley understands you all that well," comments Friday.
Wednesday nods, watching from the corner of her eye their younger brother scramble to join them.
"I know. But he'll learn with time," Wednesday responds.
Affection replaces the spark of amusement in Friday's eyes, and the older girl gives her sister a nod, the corner of her eyes finally crinkling into a true smile.
"He will learn with time," echoes Friday as she offers her hand to Pugsley, who has now caught up with them.
The boy looks at his sisters in confusion, and it takes everything he has not to open his mouth and ask a question. The last time he asked them what they were talking about Wednesday gave him a live practice of knife throwing, one where he was the target…
They walk in silence for just a few short moments, Pugsley and Wednesday looking on ahead even as Friday watches the moving furniture with a spark of fascination.
In the end, the young boy can't take it anymore, and he opens his mouth.
"Do you think I'll be allowed to use a wand today?" he asks instead at the last second.
The two girls have matching frowns immediately appear on their faces.
"Not yet," replies Friday.
"Why not?" asks Pugsley.
"Just 'cause," she replies.
"Fridayyy!" he whines.
On Friday's left Wednesday rolls her eyes for the twelfth time today and she finally speaks in the end.
"Because you're not ready."
Pugsley pouts, frowns and opens and closes his mouth like a fish a few times.
"Why? What do you mean?" he finally asks.
"You need to pass a test, and it will take some time," replies Friday diplomatically.
"But, didn't you get to play with the wands when you were my age?" he asks Friday.
"The fact that you think practicing is the same as playing is exactly why you don't have permission, Pugsley," sighs Wednesday.
"What? But don't you both play fight whenever you sneak out the wands?"
"Shh!" orders Wednesday as she places her hand over his mouth.
The sound of wooden paws rings out in the silent corridor, and the three watch as a black and red fainting couch runs after Thing and straight through a wall.
Behind them a white marble statue follows, with a portrait of an Addams ancestor.
"Buenos dias, niñ—!" the man in the portrait is unable to finish his greeting before the statue disappears through the wall as well.
The three children remain stuck in place, staring at the spot they last saw Thing and the animated objects in.
"It's too early in the day for this," mutters Friday as she passes by the empty wall.
Her younger siblings follow her in silence, the two much more used to the everyday weirdness of the Addams manor than her.
∘₊✧───༻✥༺───✧₊∘
"Are these really all of my options?" asks the ghost given form.
[They are the only worlds we can access at the moment.]
She frowns, grasping wavy black hair into her new pale hands.
"Can I mix them together?"
[Yes. But in that case some of the Chain Drawbacks will be activated.]
"…that is acceptable. Then, let us go into the world The Addams Family. I hope you'll choose an easy crossover jump for me."
[Very well, I will take your suggestion into consideration. Remember that your time of insert might not be what you wish for, however.]
∘₊✧───༻✥༺───✧₊∘
"How long do we have to wait here?" Pugsley asks as he softly presses a key on the piano.
Wednesday shrugs and turns the page of her book with care. The black haired girl plays with a sharp card in her other hand, stabbing its corners into the dark wooden floor of the library.
"However long it takes for mother to finish her séance," she answers.
Pugsley pouts, and the four year old turns to Friday for a different answer.
Standing on the cushioned still of a window facing the outside Friday offers a twin shrug. The girl turns her gaze away from the dark steel gazebo where their mother is shrouded by mist and sneaks a glance at the cover of Wednesday's book.
「Pseudomonarchia Daemonum｣
"…sigh, well, mother should return in a few minutes," Friday answers.
Pugsley frowns, his legs dangling back and forth on the small piano stool. Like earlier his mouth opens and closes several times before he poses a question.
"How do you know that?" he asks, then his eyes suddenly widen and excitement replaces curiosity on his face.
"Did you divine it? Did you, did you?" he questions. "You must have! Did you see mom with your third eye? Or—
gasp!—did you have a vision?!?"
Friday's mouth forms a thin line, and one of her eyebrows rises into a perfect arc.
"Pugsley, I was watching her outside," she explains softly.
The young boy deflates, and the books he accidentally floated with his magic fall to the ground with a thud.
"…sorry," he says, knowing how much his sisters care for the books in the library.
Friday shakes her head, and places a hand on his back as she walks to him.
"There's nothing to apologize for. Accidental magic is normal, and you did nothing wrong by becoming excited. After we're done here I will show the both of you some divination tricks, okay?" she comforts, making sure to look her younger brother in the eyes.
"…can you use your cards?" he asks.
Friday nods.
"Thank you," he mutters.
With a soft smile the older girl passes by him and begins to collects the fallen books. It is this sight that greets Morticia Addams when she enters the library.
"Oh? And what do we have here?" asks Morticia, her hand resting between that of her shorter husband.
