Whatcha doin' here, Mom? [Frog x Nebula]

After leaving the Mortimier Cemetery, Nebula decided she needed fresh air to calm herself down. She wanted to just go back to her apartment and cry, but she knew that now that she had devoted herself to redemption, she had no right whatsoever to simply sit and do nothing. There were too many things going through her min to let her rest anyway. The word Zayasu resonated inside her mind over and over. That was the surname all the gravestones that musician cried on shared, which led her to believe that that was her own surname. Now, normally she would never have enough willpower to try and meddle in someone else's life of her own accord, but this case was different. If this mystery musician ended up like her when she had the chance to stop her from going down this road, Nebula would have lost all semblance of a chance for redemption. She needed to find out more about this Zayasu, and fast; as it stood, however, Nebula had no idea how she'd go about tracing away at a person, and her current state of mind wouldn't allow her to come up with any ideas right now. She needed to relax and cool off.

Feeling something vibrate in her pocket, Nebula took out her phone and was greeted by an email notification. Someone had made a comission for her art blog! Never one to turn down work, Nebula opened the mail and read the contents. The client wanted a drawing of a bustling city in her traditional morbid artstyle, not caring much for details and specifying that they wanted her to "be creative". Nebula knew exactly where to go to get a good model for this commission.

Thusly, roughly an hour later, Nebula found herself at an interesection in Vista Square, full of roads, buildings and people. She stood on the sidewalk, sketching away at her notebook and looking up at the buildings from time to time to guide her sketch.

Eventually, a finger tapped Nebula's shoulder from behind, prompting her to tuck away her notebook quickly and turn around. Her eyes were greeted by a familiar face, the boy who had mistaken her for his mother at the inn! And it seemed he was equally as confused (or insistent on bothering her) this time around too... "P-please stop callinng me t-that..." She pleaded shyly. "I'm not your m-mom..."

Now, the constant stream of screaming and words was one thing, and the fact that he was so alive and up-in-her-face was another. She could deal with both of those fine for the sake of courtesy and being nice. However, having her behind addressed at all was an entirely different manner. Even if the boy was quick to correct himself, he was not faster than Nebula’s crippling shyness and insecurity. As soon as he’d mentioned this, her face had practically become a shade of red not previously known to man, and she could swear to all that is holy that the heat she felt in her face was either an allergic reaction to something or Fafnir going fucking insane. “M-m-m-m-m-m-m-m-my-y-y b-b-b-b-be-h-h-h…?” Was all the poor girl would manage to speak. Not only had she been so nervous and embarrassed that she’d been unable to properly breathe, her stuttering was expelling air faster than she’d be able to breathe it back in. That, combined with Fafnir’s heat, her lack of breath, her embarrassment and rampant state of mind, the volume of the boy's voice and how it scared her, his extreme exaggerated reactions and the pure panic the misunderstanding gave her… caused her to faint.

Under normal circumstances, Fafnir would’ve been absolutely furious that he’d been assigned to such a pathetically weak vessel, but at this specific situation he couldn’t help but laugh. It was a combination of the genuine comedic value of the situation and pure, unaltered irony-driven self-pity-laughter. Nebula wouldn’t be out of commission for long; however, as soon after she’d fainted from sheer panic she was suddenly woken up by a cold splash of water. If she hadn’t been so groggy and unconscious, she maybe would’ve even welcomed the water splash for refreshing her face. As it stood, however, she now stood meekly in front of her perceived assailant, face completely drenched and posture weak, too confused and still half-afraid (though she couldn’t remember why) to say or do anything. She just kinda… stared… and breathed hard.

"...N-No, it's fine, this is my fault." She wasn't really completely sure what had gone down still, but Nebula still felt like it was her fault all the same. "I-I'm okay..." Pay for the water? Wait, had he been forced to go out of his way to buy a bottle of wwater just to wake her out of her fainting? Oh no, she was being a nuisance again, and a wasteful one at that! "O-Oh, wait! H-how much did the water cost you? I'll pay you back..." God, this morning had started off so promising too. I mean, it hadn't been anything to smile over, but for once she wasn't being a nuisance to anybody so far, it only figured she'd relapse into uselessness sooner or later...

Only 100 VC? She could easily afford to pay back that much. Nebula quickly reached into her bag and pulled out a small leather coin purse, from which she quickly withdrew a 100 VC coin and presented it to the not-so-unfamiliar stranger. Hopefully, with this she could postpone him hating her. Still, her curiosity, while mostly numb, had not been dulled to the point where it wouldn’t be piqued by this recurring (albeit, only minorly) figure and why he thought her to be his mother. It might’ve been a little bit sudden, what with her fainting and all, but… what if he had malicious intent, or wanted something from her, or maybe just wanted help? ”U-Um… I-I’m sorry but… why are you following me?”

“Huh?” Nebula didn’t want to assume anything about the boy, but there were only three possible scenarios that could’ve been taking place. Either the boy was an amnesiac, a sleepwalker, or a liar. “Y-yesterday you called me m-mom too, at Vag-gabond Inn… You left two k-kibble bags at t-the entrance and everything.” She was absolutely certain that this was the same guy, so how come he didn’t remember her at all? Furthermore, what was with people and following her around these days? The fact that this wasn’t the first time this had happened since she’d decided to set foot outside of her home on a consistent basis was just about the most disencouraging thing.

Frogerio would find himself interrupted by the blonde before he could express his exasperation at the difficulty of properly expressing his thoughts to other. “O-oh, I didn’t realize you w-were doing it unintentionally… t-there’s no need to apologize, really. I sh-should’ve figured as much from the beginning.” She awkwardly picked at the zipper on her open jacket as she said this, trying her best not to trip up over her own tongue. Honestly, she should’ve been ashamed of herself, assuming the worst out of people. As Frogerio locked eyes with her for the first time in the 48 hours where they one of them had been aware of the other’s existence, her own eyes would instinctually shy away and dart towards the nearest most interesting thing; namely, the floor. “…A-alright, if that’s what y-you want…”