“They’d chase their tails if they thought they’d curse’em,” Briony stated, momentarily sounding older than her years. “And if they had tails...” With that, the illusion was shattered. Her own tail worked itself out from where she had wrapped it around her waist and tucked it into her shorts, it’s fork whistling through the air as it stopped just short of cracking against the roof. That was better. If she could’ve gotten away with it, Briony would always have her tail out. It was just too awkward to try and hide in her clothes and then it got uncomfortable and made her cranky. “Nooo, we’re not the worst! We’re pretty bad but we’re not the worst.” Her head shook enthusiastically, brows furrowed. “You’re worse than me or Bubbles,” she stated matter-of-factly, going on to point out at where she supposed there was houses but they might actually have been shops. Whatever, they were houses for now. “All of them believe every word you say, Pastor, even when you’re really talking about what you had for lunch last night and how Mrs.--Mrs. Lady Whose Name I Can’t Pronounce doesn’t know how to make a good enough sandwich.” Lighting up, she giggled. “Or putting blow up dolls on Noah’s Arc.” She knew she wasn’t supposed to be old enough to know what those were, but that was what made it funnier. “Bubbles only looks like a kid but she really doesn’t act like one ‘less we’re in class or something. Then it really should... what’s it called--Something about red flags.” She developed a rather pensive pout as she considered herself. “I make people very uncomfortable and scared and then if they touch me they get lots of red flags.” But then she really was just a kid.
Who wanted to stick scissors in someone’s eye, split bone with a chisel and had stolen her adoptive father’s hammer because the Pastor had given her a fixation with them.
Briony blinked. Both at the revelation that Danny-Boy was a messy demon and that human women were best at tidying. In her experience this wasn’t so. Maybe Rachel Fells was too broken even for that. “Huh. I’m all tidy.” Apparently that was strange for a child. She was a strange child. “Don’t like people moving my things about. I like knowing where everything is.” There was one other major bonus to being a tidy child. “Also, it keeps Paul and Rachel from coming in my room.” See, she had reasoned all of this out during the early stages of ‘settling in’. If her room was a mess or if she ‘needed anything’, then they came into her room. So she made sure it was tidy and that she had sorted herself out. No parenting necessary. Oooh, goosebumps! Briony grinned. It was a good job pride was a sin because she was bursting with it. “I don’t think he’s gonna notice that he’s teaching me to be more normal rather than figuring me out,” she said after a moment. “‘Cause I know what all the right answers are. Or I’m learning them. I don’t think they’re meant to teach kids how to pretend to be right-in-the-head.” Leaning forward to see what was under the next shingle, the little Fear shook her head and laughed. “I’ve had that dream already. During class. I was awake. Don’t think skin comes off as easy as I dreamed it though...” But ohh, the crucifixion. “That! That got me sent to my room for laughing so hard I choked on my apple juice. Which is mean ‘cause I couldn’t breathe.” Briony messed up her hair for the sole purpose of tucking it all neatly behind her ears again. “Mondays and Thursdays. For an hour. Maybe a tiny bit longer if he tries to ‘connect’--” Quote unquote. “--while I’m drawing.” No, she didn’t understand that part. If she was drawing then she didn’t want to ‘connect’ with anyone.