“…I remember this one moment from my larvahood,” Dot was explaining to Berry, both of them lookin’ real depressed. “I think you were there, too, I’m not sure…”
Dot had just been told the news about Lucky’s sudden death that night, soon after he flew back from that termite queen. The discussion afterward took place real late that night. Berry was deep in the throes of grief, feeling additionally worse after knowing how it went with Kelvin; he was holding onto some shame inside that gathering den, while everybuggy else was asleep in torpor. Dot found him that night and asked him what was wrong; once he knew, Dot figured, since they both shared similarly close losses, he and Berry could lift each other’s spirits in some way through a shared bond together, which he tried to facilitate.
“Around thirty days ago, I and some other ladybug larva were together, foraging for smaller aphids for the adults to eat later. Ruby was there…” After saying that, Dot had to stop himself. Berry understood, then Dot kept going.
“I remember helping out with the supply, we had our own separate places to put them in. It was my first day, as a larva, learning how to forage. At one point, I… detached from what I had to do. I didn’t want to worry about my catch anymore, so I went over to the other bugs’ spaces. I guess I wanted to see how different theirs was, compared to mine. Then, Ruby caught me doing that,” he said with a slight laugh, “saying I was tampering with their catches. She got really angry with me, so I cried. I was just a larva back then, I… I couldn’t explain myself.”
Berry listened intently to Dot’s sob story, as the now-headbug started frowning a little.
“Everybuggy thought I did the wrong thing, or that I got it all wrong; they tried to correct my mistake, but I didn’t get anything wrong. I understood everything about what I was supposed to do, perfectly. All of it, I– I was just confused about everything else,” Dot tearfully explained to his keyholder, looking back down at the floor of the dark den. “And it just feels like my life ever since has just been… different variations of that story…” he finished.
It wasn’t hard for Berry to get where Dot was coming from. Dot didn’t always wanna be that scared underbug at the honeydew bar table who didn’t know what he was doing, but he never knew any other way to act.
Again, every bug in the tree knew his story well, and everything they said that he hadn’t heard all felt ready to catch up to his antennae.
But how the fuck was Berry supposed to respond to all that? This ladybug, now head of the entire tree, was in pretty much the most doubtful, poor spirits imaginable by this point. How was he supposed to run a whole tree? If I were Berry, I’d have just left that sap right there to figure it out himself. But I guess, Dot would’ve probably killed him or something. Poor Berry turned into yet another victim of his fuckin’ stupidity.
So, doing his best, while sitting there next to him in that den, a little terrified, Berry spoke.
“Well, look at you now, Dot, you’re the head of the business,” he told him sadly, but trying to make him happy. “Your story isn’t over. It’s a new beginning for you, y’know? Ruby… rest in peace… she wanted this for you. Anything can happen; you can prove yourself. You’ve got it in you.”
Dot smiled hearing that, then turned over to him, “Y’know, Berry, I… I remember looking at you during that last lockdown. You remember the crow? Ruby was telling me… She was telling me about how… the others in the group would perceive me,” he said, then sighed. “I’ve already got half the supply down my stomach… right, Berry?” Dot flashed a breaking smile to him.
Berry hesitated, crumbling under the emotional weight of what the new headbug was telling him, “I… I think,” he trailed, his head almost feeling dizzy, “I think I…” he said with tears building up, but he then stopped himself from speaking, right in front of him. I couldn’t guess what he was gonna say, but it felt important. Dot looked at his nervous behavior and responded.
“Tsk… you miss when Mom and Lucky were here, right? …You’re not at fault for what happened to him, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Dot told him, calmly. “It happens, y’know; he gets stung by a wasp, and… what else is there to do? You had to take him out.” Dot wrapped his tarsus around him, encouragingly, sincerely hoping for him to feel better.
“You did the best you could given that situation,” Dot finished.
Berry looked to his side, holding back deeper thoughts. He almost shivered at the feeling of Dot’s tarsus, “…If you say so.”
“Was there anything else you were gonna say?” Dot asked. Berry stopped.
“…I didn’t tell Checker that Lucky died,” Berry confessed. “I was thinkin’… deals are all we got right now, and… if Checker knew Lucky died, he’d have to put the cottonwood on another lockup, and… I hate lockups. We already saw who did it, anyway, we… we just gotta know why. I wanna get to the bottom of all this, and… I wanna stick by you, and the whole cottonwood when we do.”
From their business standpoint, that dislike for lockups was actually pretty fair. See, if the cottonwood were put on lockup, that meant the associates were stuffed inside the hollow trunk, and nobuggy from the outside could communicate with the mafia, at all, until Checker knew for sure whether the threat was internal or external.
After the Elly situation, lockups grew so important to them that no keyholder could ever hide a death from another. Even Dot had personal reservations on that. But given their circumstances, he not only understood Berry hiding it from Checker, but agreed.
“…Yeah, you’re right, Berry, that’s a good plan, we… We can definitely figure this out ourselves, through some kind of deal,” Dot faintly told him, despite not having a fuckin’ plan for it at all. “You– You’d make a good headbug someday.”
Berry smiled sincerely at such a well-esteemed compliment, but he quickly dropped that smile after a second, his breath subtly turning irregular again. Even after essentially being named the new underbug. I would’ve celebrated, if I gave enough of a fuck about the ladybugs anyway.
“C’mon, let’s get to torpor,” Dot finished.
It was a pretty weird night, I must admit. For the first time in a while, Dot actually slept for a full night after telling Berry his embarrassing life story. You’d think that after a bug like Kelvin disregarding his existence, and a fuckin’ termite queen speakin’ gibberish, he'd be staying up, but I guess he toughed it out.
How Berry slept? Don’t know, don’t care. He’s not the insect of interest here, is he?
And before you or anybuggy else in the ant colony asks, no, I didn’t understand a fuckin’ word of what that termite queen was talking about; she spoke in fuckin’ riddles, for all I care. Guess that’s what happens when you spend hundreds of days alone for so long, adding nothing of value to anybuggy’s life. For whatever fuckin’ reason. Some bugs just go too far…
Anyway, that morning, they finally got back together in the gathering den again, as a collective. I have to say, it was nice seeing each of them working together again, with even a faint glimpse of that usual camaraderie from before. For them, though, it was much harder without Ruby or Lucky around. Those were the losses that fucked them up the most.
Poor Libelle; she set up their favorite locale and died tryin’ to save Dot’s mother, and she couldn’t even get a mention for it, after all this time. What a pointless life.
“Well, Dot? What do we do?” said Sprout, inside the gathering den.
“…Three of our own are dead: Libelle, Lucky, and my mother,” he said, but with little emotion.
I… guess I stand corrected?
“How are the aphids?” he asked, his tone rather cold.
“Our associates haven’t taken a bite of them in days,” Sprout answered him. “All we’re eating now are fruits… Some whiteflies and mites here and there, but no aphids. We’ve… pretty much stopped with it.”
“Sprout, I’m not asking if they’ve eaten any, I’m asking if we have any,” Dot told him. Sprout just responded by sitting there in an awkward silence.
“…We’ve got a few,” Berry said, “At least from what I saw. Foraging slowed down after the… incidents.” He got more shy, “…There’s… really not that many.”
“What about honeydew?” Dot asked. Berry and Sprout were afraid to answer, so he asked again, a bit more firm, “C’mon, what about the honeydew?”
Berry hesitantly added, “N… No. Not a lot of honeydew left.”
The three of them sat in silence together, the mood noticeably far more quiet than it had ever been before in that gathering den. They all took that silence in before Dot interrupted, slamming the table in frustration. They both jumped.
“Those fuckin’ ants,” he muttered to himself. “It was Kelvin, the whole fuckin’ time, I know it for a fact.”
“Dot, w-we,” Sprout immediately retorted, “We can’t just assume that!”
“Why not?! I met with her myself, she let me know it, right then and there.”
“Y’know what’ll happen to us if you’re wrong?!” Sprout stood up to address him, “Did she explicitly say that she killed Ruby?”
“N… No, but that doesn’t mean she wasn’t involved, her ants are fuckin’ ruthless. Ask Nino and Basel, they saw it in her tone.”
“W-Want me to bring them in for you?” Berry volunteered immediately in nervousness, really just wanting to get the fuck outta there.
“…Yes,” Dot exhaled. Berry swiftly left the den, and it was then only Dot and Sprout.
“I asked Kelvin for less restrictions, and…” Dot explainedto Sprout, then turning a bit emotional, “…and they just stopped me from talking, I– I couldn’t say anything in there… I tried talking about it, but there was nothing they could tell me other than… to not start shit with them. They’re fuckin’ impossible.”
Sprout listened intently, looking to sympathize with his now-headbug, but he felt weird. He then picked his words carefully, “…Look, we get how hard it is to be the headbug, I don’t even know what that’s like myself,” Sprout said sadly, “but if you can’t negotiate, then how are we supposed to run our affairs? I mean… What were you doing the day your mother passed?”
He didn’t know it, but that very question, although spoken without any hostility, hit Dot where it fuckin’ hurt. If he wasn’t already acting unreasonably out of line with Sprout yet, that question was the immediate catalyst, and his reaction, after a brief silence, let Sprout know it.
“Wh-What were YOU doing when Lucky was fuckin’ DYING?!”
That tone he used when talking about a dead keyholder shook the air of the den with uncomfortable strength. It didn’t make any fuckin’ sense to him, nor me, why Dot would react like that. Sprout had every right to question Dot’s business regarding that night, which, if anything, was just him fuckin’ around with a moth and thinkin’ he made his dead mother proud through any of it.
Sprout hadn’t said a word after Dot’s outburst.
“…Look, I’m sorry,” the headbug said.
“…”
“I really am, I– I seriously, seriously appreciated that fruit you left me, y’know, I– I don’t know what came over me,” Dot desperately tried explaining. Sprout didn’t want any of it and just left the gathering den. So Dot sat there by himself, thinking back on what must’ve been better to say.
It was right then that Berry came in to bring Nino and Basel. The two handlers were all smiles about the fact that Dot was taking the reins of the business, but their smiles faded soon as they actually saw his face.
“What happened with Sprout?” Berry asked. Dot trailed, “Well… It’s– It’s nothing. Hard to explain.” Berry looked at the headbug with faint skepticism, which pushed Dot to elaborate.
“…It was a little argument,” Dot admitted. “I was talkin’ about Mom, he was talkin’ about Lucky. It escalated.”
“…It happens,” Berry said. “Want me to see where Sprout’s at now?”
“Y– Yeah, sure.” Berry stepped out, with a conflicted look on his face, which extended over to the two handlers, too.
So there the three smallest bugs in the tree were, seated together in the gathering den.
Nino turned to Dot, “Do you know what Lucky was doing before he… passed?”
Dot remembered, “…I think it was something about fruit fly deals.”
“Why’d that fuckin’ wasp have to get him, anyway?” Basel bitterly asked.
“I have no idea– Wait–” Dot interrupted himself once he caught onto something important; a memory of Ruby telling them about those parasitoids. Dot then felt a tad better once an idea festered in his head.
“I think… I think I got it,” Dot said. “Aren’t fruit flies immune to those parasitoid infections?”
“…You’re– You’re right,” said Nino, catching on.
“Basel, Nino, I’m going to need you both to head to that fruit fly colony, and send whoever you find over to the parasitoids,” Dot said with some confidence, “That way, we’ll find out whatever we can about this whole… Lucky dilemma.”
They paused, the room they sat in falling silent. “…It just had to be the fruit flies,” Basel then said with some passive annoyance, but also a smile.
“Honestly, that’s– that’s a great idea, Dot!” Nino said, appearing to sound sincere, impressed with the idea but mostly just trying to cheer up their depressed, inefficient leader. “Way to step up! I’ll tell ‘ya, Basel, that’s how a good leader acts.”
Dot just kept that same stupid semi-blank expression on his face. Bit of a tangent, but that look of his always fuckin’ bothered me. Sure, that idea with the flies was his first good one in days, but I swear, the handlers praised that ladybug as if he were the most significant fuck in the forest, and he still kept bein’ a pompous little shit over it. It’s like he needed love or whatever to get out of some fuckin’ hole he’s dug himself into, except it’s a bottomless pit.
And that extended to how he treated Ivy. Later in the day, he flew up to the top of the cottonwood tree and, despite my biggest hopes, followed up on his promise to signal to Ivy from the top of the cottonwood tree again. Yeah! It’s insane! And here I was, thinking he was already done with that innocent moth. Was it good that he kept his promise? Sure, but every single one of us down in the burrow knew exactly what he was really after: Those damn pheromones. It became an unwelcome surprise to me when she actually signaled back to that fuckin’ ladybug.
And this really did turn out to be no ordinary get-together; this was a post-Ruby Dot she was speaking to now, and I’m pretty sure Ivy herself could tell that was the case once she flew over to that tree.
“Dotty!” she hugged it out with him.
“…Hey,” Dot greeted her as kindly as he could, but depressed enough for her to notice. “I’m happy to see you,” he said. She loosened her grip on that hug.
“…How’ve you been? It’s… been a while without you…”
“I’m… It– It’s been tough.”
“Tough? Well, I’m sure it’s nothing you can’t handle, Dotty,” she told him gently, and nervously. “Wanna… come with me to the cafe and… talk about it?”
“Sure, let’s… go over there now.”
Dot didn’t show it too much, but he was happy to see her again. The poor girl tried her best to support him, even while he was unfairly keeping her in the dark. It’s hard for a male bug of any species to resist it when a female bug’s doin’ all she can to make him happy. The tricky part is when he isn’t giving back the same.
But Nino and Basel had more important business on their minds. On Dot’s orders, they were off to find the fruit flies.
Fruit flies were probably the biggest saps out of everyone in the whole fuckin’ forest, save for Dot. Those dumb fuckin’ bugs didn’t even have a real colony to themselves; the only use they had was in being a food source for the ladybugs, along with being too terrified to do business with their predators when it was necessary. I swear, they were probably the most annoying pieces of prey out there; finding one while foraging was a sign of bad luck. And that fuckin’ buzz, too. Those sons of botflies found the time to forage for fruit, but never to just shut up.
“PLEASE, please, I… I don’t want to die, please, let me live, I…”
“Hey, shut up! SHUT UP!”
Nino and Basel eventually made it to a wooden log where the fruit flies were hiding out; their buzzes were near unbearable. The one (justifiably) telling them to shut up was Basel.
“Who’s in here? We… We need you bugs’ help,” said Nino, looking into that log of fruit flies, who acted like they didn’t exist. Their buzzes quieted down as they realized that the ladybugs weren’t doing anything to try to eat ‘em. Still, they shook in their place while trying to mind their business.
“Anybuggy at all wanna help us? Hello?” Nino kept on asking, but the fruit flies kept on tending to their business; it was really just flying from place to place on that log, munching on some decomposing piece of matter on the side of the log, and not doing a fuck thing else. Again, they were really the dumbest bugs in the forest, aside from Dot.
After a bit of silence, one of those fruit flies didn’t want to see those ladybugs enraged anymore. “I…” whimpered a voice from that oak log.
“Who’s that?” Basel asked.
“I…” a young fruit fly responded, “I volunteer…”
“What’s your name?” asked Nino.
“Dice…”
“Hey Dice, I’m Nino. Basel’s the ladybug on my left.”
“We need your help setting up this deal,” Basel told him. Dice was fuckin’ terrified; so terrified that he could barely listen to a thing Basel and Nino were saying, looking to head back to that decomposing matter the other flies were munching on.
“Hey– HEY!” Basel shouted. Dice nearly died right then and there, he was such a stuttering fuck.
“W-What?!” Dice begged for his life.
“We need you to help us with this deal!” Basel repeated.
“Wh-What is it?!”
Nino then spoke. “It’s just a deal with some parasitic wasps. One of our own’s gone thanks to them, and we need to know what happened.”
“I… I’m not gonna die?”
“We guarantee it,” Nino assured him. “We’ll keep you safe in the cottonwood.”
“Cottonwood, what’s the cottonwood?!” Dice desperately asked.
Nino and Basel gave each other a look, and then a sigh; it was gonna be a long day for those two.
It wasn’t that long of a day, least as far as Dot and Ivy were concerned. They sat together in that honeydew bar; same oak seats as before. Of their conversation, the most of what I could get was in the audio.
“Dot?” Ivy asked, now with a different kind of shyness to her than before. Dot seemed silent and unsure.
“What’s been on your mind?”
“…I wish I could tell you,” he answered her.
“I’m here for you now, aren’t I?”
“…”
“…C’mon, what is it?”
“It’s personal.”
“…Dot,” Ivy gently held his tarsus with hers, “Aren’t we together?”
He calmed down. “…Yes, we are…” he told her, but looking away from her. “…As far as I’m concerned.”
It was easy to tell the kind of look Ivy must’ve had on her face, after he said that. As far as you’re concerned, Dot? Who cares what you’re concerned about?
“Look, I… I don’t want to lose you,” Dot continued, “I really don’t. I never told anybuggy in the cottonwood about you.”
“Why not?”
“I mean, what are they going to think… if the bug who’s leading them is together with a different species?”
“Ugh, nobuggy’s gonna care if we’re different spec– Wait. Bug who’s leading them…?!”
“…Ivy–”
“You’re the headbug now? W-What happened to Ruby?”
“…She’s dead. She got murked,” he told her, sounding tired. Ivy, shocked at the news, immediately felt the need to offer a silence; Dot just stared blankly at the table waiting for the conversation to go some other direction.
“Dot, I’m… I’m so sorry…”
“…It’s whatever.”
How the fuck was she supposed to respond to an ‘It’s whatever’ after referring to somebuggy like his dead mom? Dot really had some fuckin’ nerve addressing the female bugs in his life like that.
She sat there at the table in a more uncomfortable silence, somehow lasting this far into their odd talk. And Dot just kept on talking.
“…Lucky, one of the keyholders, was next in line to be the headbug, but then he got murked, too,” Dot said, still sounding tired, looking up at her receptively and bored. “It was a parasitic wasp.”
She was out of things to say by that point, just sitting there, taking in all this talk of dead ladybugs. I would’ve been uneasy myself.
“…Yeah, it’s rough,” he said to her as a response to her silence, just looking up at her really bored.
She wasn’t sure where this new attitude of his came from, but had some assumptions.
“So, now you’re the one running the tree…” she asked quietly, looking to the side.
“Yep. It is what it is, I guess.”
It was impossible for him to not notice how she was feeling about all this he was telling her, and figured he could at least try a little to clear the table of all the depressing bugshit he was on about…
“…I don’t want to hurt anybuggy, though, I… I still remember my first kill. It felt horrible.”
“…First kill?”
“…Oh, I don’t think I told you,” Dot then said, trying to maneuver his words carefully and put on a good face in front of her, “Day before we met, I murked an aphid for the first time… Mom pretty much forced me to.”
Dot saw Ivy’s look change.
“It– It wasn’t like I wanted to–”
“You said you didn’t wanna do that carnivore stuff…”
“It was by force, the– the ants do worse.”
Bugshit.
“Point is, I’m clean,” “I don’t care what happens, I’m not gonna let the ladybugs kill without any sense. That, I can promise you.”
Ivy then smiled a little faintly. “You will?” she asked, to which he nodded.
“Well… That’s good. A lot’s happened, but I guess… not everything’s been bad.”
…But right as the mood was getting lighter, he started thinking of us and found an excuse to dim it again.
“…Those fuckin’ ants, though…”
“…”
“They… They make it so hard for us to be peaceful…”
Yeah, she didn’ like what he was turning into.
“I have a strong feeling that they were the bugs who put out the hit on my mother.”
“Dot…” Ivy stopped him.
“What? I met with Kelvin yesterday, it was pretty clear to me.”
“Well, I’ve known the ants since I was a caterpillar,” Ivy said. Dot’s eyes immediately widened, frenzying into a small internal panic. “They… they’d never do something like that. Even to their enemies. They protect the forest, th-they’re doing what’s right.” she then finished.
“Wait, wh– What do you mean you knew Kelvin?!”
“I told you this when we first met,” Ivy adamantly told him, catching his panic. “W-Weren’t you listening?!”
“When the fuck was this?! Th-This isn’t the Ivy I remember meeting.”
Great fuckin’ going, Dot; Ivy’s definitely going to give you round two at the willow tree for that one.
“Jeez, what so fuckin’ bad about it?!” Ivy asked, angry. “At least their business is about survival!”
By this point, I would’ve expected Dot to get up from the table and gouge her eyes out for saying that. But oddly enough, he never retaliated. His mind was still on that warm day when they met, and on how much he still wanted to preserve that warmth. For a faint moment, he took those last words she said, and let it sit.
“…I guess that’s on me,” he admitted, rightly sounding guilty. She looked at him pensively as he continued, now sounding a little bitter, “I didn’t hear a thing about that last night, though. I don’t know why.”
“You were mostly talking about yourself that day…”
“Y– Yeah, I…” he angrily started, but then for a moment, let it pass him. “M– My mind was pretty occupied. I’m… I’m sorry, Ivy.”
“It’s alright, just… forget it.”
“Sometimes I just… act before I comprehend it,” he said, making excuses. “Even with the things most important to me, I just forget… I don’t wanna be as bad as the shittier bugs,” he said, then turned bitter again, “The only real difference between me and them, anyway, is the amount of eyes on them after their mistakes. I’ve already got one pair, and that’s already bad enough,” he looked up at her.
“Well, it’s… This is something you gotta work on, Dot,” she responded to him with sincerity.
“It’s… Been hard… since Mom died. I could just imagine her now saying something like… ‘If this is you when you’re serious, I’m not impressed…' I don’t know what to do…”
Oh, poor Dot… It’s way more bugs who’re saying that, not just your mom.
“…But I don’t want to lose you,” he continued, “I just wish I could unconditionally be worth something.” She just looked at him, seeing through his pity quick.
“I don’t wanna die alone.”
“What, you want me to be down there with you?” Ivy flawlessly responded, but feeling a mix of things, “I’m trying to help, and… this is who I’m being met with now…”
“…I’m sorry.”
From there, they just sat in that difficult silence together, none of them with anything on their plates; from what I remember, the grasshopper waiters were out that day. Probably reeling ‘cause of the food shortage, or they were just reeling over Libelle.
Dot was reeling, too. All that was on his mind were those three ladybugs he lost, the situation he was facing, and how unequipped he was to deal with it. Reasonable enough to say that an escape of some sort would do him wonders, but fuck all that.
“…It would be nice, though…” Dot said in a low tone, breaking through the silence, “…To take my mind off it all in some way.”
“…How so?” Ivy asked, tempted to come off innocent again.
“I mean…” he trailed, his tone noticeably getting more sentimental, all to Ivy’s attention. “Why can’t this life just… end, for a moment?” he continued, “Like it did before, when I was with you?”
“…What?”
“Everything keeps moving, and there’s… there’s never a moment where it can all just stop,” he said, sounding equal parts emotional and completely insane.
“What do you mean, what’re you talking about?”
“Could you… let out some more pheromones, Ivy?”
“…Um–”
“The pheromones…”
“…Dot, we’re in the cafe.”
“Yeah, and we’re the only ones in here.”
“I don’t want to.”
After hearing that, he promptly backed off: Something he should’ve done six fuckin’ days ago.
“…I’m… I’m sorry,” he said softly, after quite a long pause at the table. “I don’t know what it is with me today.”
“…Yeah, me fuckin’ neither,” she sat up from the table, feeling frustration “Look, I get it, you lost your mother and I’m very sorry about that, but you can’t just…” she sat back down, “ask me for something like that… I can’t cradle your feelings all the time just ‘cause it’s what feels nice for you. That’s not what I’m here for.”
The pauses in-between their speech started to grow pretty wide from that point on; still, she had to remind herself that, even though she got closer and closer to seeing the insect deep down inside him, this was still a mafia boss she was talking to. Dot tried not to let it come to that point, but she had to pick her words carefully.
Dot’s mind, however, was back to that pensive look he had when he spoke with our queen.
“…Well, Kelvin said the same thing–”
“Well, she was right!” Ivy told him, looking substantially unhappy. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, Dot, but you’ve been acting real weird since we sat down… or since that one night with those pheromones. If I knew this was how you’d turn out after that night, I would never have done it.”
It was like the entire forest had stopped what it was doing at that moment. Why? Because he got offended.
“Jeez, what’s your fuckin’ problem?” he instinctively raised his voice at her, then hesitated. “If… If you’re not here to make me happy, then what’re you good for?”
…Wow.
He knew that was the wrong thing to say, but he said it with his whole underbelly; the look on his face after saying that immediately gave it away. Something completely switched within Ivy at that moment; it was the same kinda switch that Dot had when his mother died, except Ivy turned out much better off in the end.
“…”
“What?”
“…No.”
“…I didn’t–”
“No.”
“I’m sorry, I–”
“I’m not doing this.”
“…I–”
“Please… sort yourself out first before you ever talk to me again.”
Finally, she got up and flew out on him. About fuckin’ time, too. That sap was sitting there as if he were still in the right, but even by the look on his face you were able to tell; he knew it was him who fucked it all up. Not the fruit flies, not the wasps, and certainly not Kelvin. Clear as day. Aside from us, Ivy was definitely one of the winners here; Dot was probably better off trying to fuck a stick than going near a moth like her.
What kind of fuckin’ insect begs for somethin’ like that, anyway? During Kelvin’s nuptial flight, you think she had to beg for all those males to flock to her? No, y’know why? ‘Cause that’s not something she has to do when it’s something she already deserves. The only thing Dot earned was being a fuckin’ sap. Nothin’ more, nothin’ less.
So, with Ivy gone, there was nothing else left for him to waste his time on, so he flew back up to the gathering den. Right as he did, Nino and Basel returned with lots of questions for Dice, the new fruit fly they brought into the den. Dot looked miserable and bored all throughout, with only Berry accompanying his boredom; Sprout was out foraging the whole day.
Dot had a completely different air around him; the other higher-ups couldn’t tell what it was, but I knew. He became totally flightless from that point on, now that Ivy, the bug who taught him to fly, was completely gone from his life.
“Who the hell’s this?” Dot asked, once he arrived there.
“The fruit fly? His name’s Dice, we brought him in from that log,” Nino explained.
“He’ll probably have somethin’ to share about those parasitoid sons of botflies that took Lucky out,” Basel interrupted.
“Let me see him,” Dot said.
He inspected Dice closely. He really just looked like your average fruit fly; he didn’t smell very good, but neither did any of the ladybugs, despite what their nice little bar might’ve suggested. The looks Dot gave that fly showed that he really tried to come off like this complex leader, but really, it was just one sap meeting another.
“What’re your thoughts on Kelvin?” he asked sternly, to which Dice braced himself in his answer.
“…Uh–” Dice stuttered, “I… I–”
“Come on, what do you think about Kelvin?” Dot urged, desperately.
“Who… Who’s Kelvin?” Dice said, out of breath from his internal panicking.
“…What the hell is his problem?!” Dot turned over to Berry.
“Looks like a shy one, Dot,” he answered.
“Bugshit, he’s shy, he’s having a fuckin’ leakin’ fit,” Dot raised his voice, then turned to Dice again and raised it even more, “What do you know about KELVIN?!”
Dice was on the floor, absolutely panicking. Dot slammed the table with his tibia, startling the others especially Berry. “DAMN IT!” Dot yelled, then turned to Nino, “How’s he supposed to talk to the fuckin’ parasitoids?! There weren’t any other volunteers?!”
“They… They were all too scared,” Nino told him, panicking a little himself at Dot’s rash attitude. “There was nothin’ else we could do.”
“…Fuck,” Dot said, thinking, then turning to Basel, said, “I don’t know. Chop him up and put him in the supply.”
“N-NO!!” Dice let out a piercing buzz, which rang out across the room. That sap was begging for his life, and apparently had to nearly destroy the ladybugs’ antennae in the process. “I– I-I promise I’ll talk to the parasitoids for you, I… I’ll do anything you say,” he urged loudly.
After uncovering his antennae, Dot thought for a moment, then conceded to the rest, “…He’s all we’ve got. We might as well let him do it.”
“I… You’ll l-let me go?!” Dice said with nervous excitement.
“No, no, no, that’s not what the boss said,” Basel told Dice. “You’re going to talk to the parasitic wasps now, and you’re going to report back here. Otherwise, if you’re not back here by tomorrow at the latest, we’re going back to that log and we’re having all your relatives for breakfast, you understand?”Dice was freaking out on the inside while addressing Basel, but was too doomed at this point to not comply. Basel
Basel asked again loudly, matching Dot’s anger, “You UNDERSTAND?!”
“Y-YES!” Dice shouted, nearly crying. “Just l-l-let me go now and I’ll do it! I– I promise, I won’t go anywhere else but th-their colony…”
“You know where that is?”
“Yes, it’s n-n-not far along from here, I… I can b-bring someone with me, to m-make sure.”
Dot was there watching Basel power through his conversation with Dice, but his head was still inside that talk with Ivy. He closed his eyes while his handler deliberated with that fruit fly, and drifted back into pensive thought on that past conversation. He then opened his eyes and looked at Dice, that blubbering mess of a sap. Dot never looked too happy throughout it at all, so he softly interjected, looking to change the overall air.
Berry, who was at Dot’s side during Dice, Nino and Basel’s gathering den exchange, looked at his headbug and understood well how he felt. Berry wasn’t at the honeydew bar exchange, of course, but there was a lot on his mind, just as there was on Dot’s.
“That’s… not so bad of an idea, Dice,” Berry nervously said, which caught Dot’s attention. Dot felt warmer after hearing that, then turned to Nino.
“Nino, do you want to go with him?” Dot asked.
He grew a little stiff; deep down, he really didn’t want to go to those parasitic wasps. Then again, imagine what it would’ve looked like if he refused his headbug’s orders.
“Well, I’m not gonna go in just to infect myself,” Nino laughed a little, “Right?”
“It’s not like you have to go inside,” Dot clarified, sounding a little fatigued. “Just be there to calm him down, before he fucks anything up before the talk. Follow him ‘til you can’t anymore.”
“…I’ll go,” Nino trailed, looking back at his headbug with almost a reluctance, “How could I say no to you, Dot?”
I’ll offer some credit; Dot made that suggestion in good judgment. Basel would’ve scared Dice shitless over there, when all they needed was for him to act right.
After all, who knew what would happen at that meeting?