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-VALENTINES DAY 2017-

-19:38-

An hour later and there's definitely no one they know. Butters had taken quite an ego beating throughout the night throughout failed convo starters and introductions. Trying to worm their way into a group conversation only to be phased out, with precise placements of patrons like a living wall of dickheads. Then what about the few rare times they did get to speak to someone?

"I'm sorry I don't know what that is"

"haha I guess I don't really like that film"

"Oh I don't really know that band, or that one.... Or that one..... Or that one"

Could this be a direct consequence of a life time of indulging solely in niche hobbies at the cost of socialising with their friends? No, it has to be everyone else's fault actually.

Each knockback hurt more than the last. The cocky confident squirrel who had entered the bar was slowly reduced to nursing a beer in the corner of the room. Geez, what happened? Butters was never a casanova or owt but they thought they were better than this. Even when inches apart, everyone felt a million miles away. When did this distance grow between Butters and the rest of the world? Was it sudden, or did this gulf creep up while their attention was elsewhere? Was whatever Butters gained worth losing this? They noticed their breathing was getting faster, they tried knocking back their drink quickly to stop themselves from getting hysterical. But they couldn't help it, this blows. Why couldn't today be like it was before? Back when people were glad to speak to them?

There's something about the deflating, when all the adrenaline leaves your body that somehow makes you more approachable however, maybe it's just you're projecting an aura of patheticness and onlookers think "I am risking nothing with this." Either way someone approaches The Squirrel.

-Oh it's nice to see an unfamiliar face for once! D'ya mind if me'n my friend sit 'ere?

Butters sharply turns their head in surprise to see a woman tower over them by almost a clear foot. While she looked like a human aesthetically, Butters knew this was a fellow Monster. A witch specifically, there's a slight tint of arcane that Monsters can be attune if they're looking for it.

OUTFIT CHECK: She was wearing a knitted cardy under a black blazer and a tartan dress with the leg bit out and combat boots. On top of her head a black beret which leaned on the side of her head which had long black hair covering her face. None of these things should be together in the same outfit but it works because again: She towers over Butters by a foot which is unfathomably hot.

-Uhh, um, well, errr. Replies Butters, being completely taken off guard.

-Well I mean I don't mean'ter interrupt ya riveting conversation with uhhh.

The Witch then stares at the empty seat next to Butters for a few seconds in agonising silence, before continuing:

-So I thought yer could use some company! Finishes the witch.

-Well, I think I can bring myself to shelf this convo for a little bit.

Butters then taps the empty seat beside them. The witch nods and parks along side Butters, before raising their drink to signal their friend to come on over.

Butters then spots the silhouette of Centaur heading towards them both. They were wearing a open buttoned gold shirt and light blue flared trousers covering 'The Horse Bit', along with some black low heels on their feet covered in glitter. They're holding their comically small cocktail as they try and steer.

You've probably noticed it too but like, yeah put it out of your mind, don't make a huge thing about it.

-Well now we're both here: Hi. You can call me Gor' (She/Her) and this lug here is Ideas (She/They). That's Eye-Dee-Ass by the by. The Witch explains as she points to her eyes, crotch and arse with each respective syllable.

The Centaur behind her gives a sheepish little wave from behind her cocktail. Butters smirks as they wave back and introduces themselves to the pair.

-You've probably noticed her ridiculously human feet by this point... Gor' continues.

-Oh my god Gormshuil! Why do you always make a huge thing about it!?!? Ideas protests.

-Whaaaa? It's a great ice breaker! 'Ereyone notices it and now look we're all off our guards now aye!

-She's right though, Butters interjects. I would've been thinking about it all night, slowly burning brain cells until someone brought it up.

Gormshuil lets out a huge bellowing laugh, ordering a pitcher of cocktails for the three of them as the Monsters chatted away into the night. This is nice! In direct contrast to earlier, the dialogue with these Monsters flowed naturally, and heaven forbid: It's fun? It's like that little bit of Butters mind that has to spend energy on even the most mundane chat, wasn't being put through it's paces here. Maybe it's the Autistic urge to throw up at the thought of small talk, but this convo was free, there was no worry about running out of 'spoons' here this was easy... Perhaps too easy. Butters couldn't shake the feeling they were doing something 'wrong'. But whatever, they SHOULD put it out of their mind.