DECEMBER 12TH, 1997
Blooming Friendship
(Disclaimer: The art used here that's actually good is not my own, and is fanart made by anons who're more talented at drawing than I am.)
Stratus sat on the couch, the hood of his raincoat pulled up over his head. The cloud above him constantly poured rain upon him, each drop sliding off of the protective barrier his clothing provided. He always lost control over his storms when his emotions overwhelmed him, and today, he felt particularly terrible.
He'd always move away when he felt as though he couldn't hold his emotions at bay as to not inconvenience the others. He usually did this in remote or less-trafficked locations, and since it was the early afternoon, no one was in the break room. The other Toons were busy out in Gardenview. They had normal lives and jobs, but him? He was made to be flawed and broken from the start.
He wasn't blind. He isolated himself from everyone barring two individuals, and it gave him a lot of time to think. He knew that Toons were made and modeled, rather than being a creation of nature. He knew what his character was supposed to be like in the show, and he was almost certain he was designed to have depression intentionally. Despite his introversion and shyness, he was good at reading others, and he could tell that Delilah Keene held no love for him or the others. To her, they were projects rather than people; test subjects rather than children.
With the patter of raindrops as background noise he continued to think, the sound ironically helping him focus. He knew what he was supposed to be like on the show. According to a promotional poster he seen of himself, he taught kids that even when they're feeling down, they can find happiness in that which they cherished. Hobbies, family, friends...
That last bit stung. He was too scared of opening up to have any friends.
Stratus was tired of hearing about how their “father” was a good man, when that couldn't be further from the truth. What kind of parent would want their child to bear the burden he did? Every day he had to fight just to get out of bed; to not give in the urge to just lay down and die. Arthur acted nice, but he wasn't kind. The two words meant two different things to him. Kindness implied going out of your way to help and check on others. If he was truly a compassionate soul, he would have at least tried to stop Stratus from coming out how he did.
After a few more minutes of processing his thoughts, Stratus rested a hand on the couch cushion under him. It was soaking wet. He began to breathe heavily as he realized just how badly he screwed up. He had wanted somewhere more comfortable to weather the storm, but he didn't think about this part! He had ruined the break room for everyone! They'd be so mad-
He froze as he heard light, gentle footsteps slowly drawing closer. Someone was coming. He wanted to run into his room and hide, but the fear and anxiety he felt glued him to the seat, freezing him in place. What if it was Tisha? He knew she worked hard and knew that her efforts were underappreciated, and having to clean up the mess his weather made would only add to her workload. He always felt guilty when she was cross with him.
Why couldn't he do anything right? He was nothing but a burden for everyone else. Why couldn't he be normal like Violet? His sister fit into the small world of Gardenview fine, so why couldn't he?
When the source of those footsteps finally entered his line of vision, he was surprised. It wasn't Tisha or any of the other Toons he knew off of the top of his head, but still, he recognized her. He knew her face because his sister had helped her and her friends decorate for Easter. This Toon's anatomy, like his, was unconventional. While he was comprised of a soft, fluffy, cloud-like material, this woman had a wicker basket for a head. It was filled with hyacinths of various colors, their striking colors accentuating the dress she wore. Her long skirt brought to mind flower petals, making him remember how isolated his home was from the outside world. He could only ever see flowers in pots, vases, and other artificial containers. The only time he had ever seen them grow freely were inside the pages of books.
He took a few moments to remember the name of Violet's co-worker. It was Bassie. His sister always called herself her “co-gardener”. According to her, at least, the two were a good team when it came to maintaining all of the flowers their home had during the spring. He felt a bit self-conscious as she stared at the storm cloud above him, and without even thinking, began to stutter out syllables in an attempt to form an apology. He struggled to form any words, his tongue tied as his sense of apprehension grew.
“C-can I sit with you?” Bassie asked, her simple question catching Stratus off-guard and causing him to sharply inhale. “I've always wanted to feel the rain for myself.”
That single request was bizarre and new to him. Usually, no one but his sister wanted to be around him when he felt stormy. He exhaled, his breathing slowing since he no longer perceived Bassie to be upset at him. Still, thunder rumbled through his body as he thought about what to do, two opposite impulses wrestling with one another.
Instinctively, he wanted to say no to her. He didn't want his life to become more complicated. It was simple when you were alone. His heart dissented at his attempts to close himself off; aching for companionship.
Deep down, Stratus hated the fact that he was alone.
“You can sit,” he mumbled, only realizing what he had said a split-second later. Those words had come out without even thinking. His eyes widened in shock as his gaze abruptly jumped to the floor, the intensity of his stare feeling as though it could cut through the carpet like a razor. Why didn't he just tell her to go away? Not only did he ruin the break room for everyone, but he was acting stupid, too!
He felt a jolt of panic as Bassie actually got onto the soaked couch. Instead of sitting on the opposite end of it like he thought she would, she was right next to him! He shook with fear, and for a couple minutes, the two were silent.
After what seemed like an eternity, her voice broke through the static. “I think I know you,” she remarked. “You're Stormy, aren't you? I, uh... Violet's one of my friends. The rest of my friends kept trying to talk to you, but you'd always flee or have something you had to tend to. I remember you telling Eggson once that you forgot to turn off your music player. He said he never saw anyone run as fast as you did that day.”

Why did she have to remind him of that? He felt like a creep now! “I-I'm sorry,” he sputtered out, his mind reeling in embarrassment. He grabbed one of the dripping pillows on the couch and hid his head behind it, mortified by the situation. He was too ashamed to even show his face! “I-I wasn't trying to do anything bad!” He pleaded behind the safety of his newfound mask. “I l-liked watching everyone work, a-and I felt safer with my sister nearby, and I'm too scared to talk to-”
“It's okay,” Bassie replied, smiling warmly as she rested a hand on his shoulder. Her touch was tender and careful from her experience in taking care of flora, but even then, Stratus flinched. Seeing that the physical contact was making him uncomfortable, she drew her hand back, opting to simply stay close to him instead. “I know how you feel. Your nerves are talking for you, aren't they? It... It happens to me sometimes, too.”
She actually knew how she felt? His sister did push him to talk to Bassie in the past, although she gave up on that a few months ago. She always said that he'd be able to relate to her, and that she experienced some of the same problems he did. He thought she was just saying things since she couldn't really understand what his depression was truly like, but apparently, she was right for once.
He felt just a smidgen more courageous now, lowering the pillow he had grabbed back onto the couch and finally looking at who he was speaking to. “M-my name isn't Stormy,” he corrected Bassie, adjusting his raincoat's hood. “My name i-is Stratus. My sister a-and I have nicknames for each other. She doesn't mind if a stranger calls her Sunny like I do, but i-it... It makes me u-uncomfortable when someone besides her calls me Stormy. You must've heard that name from her.”
“I'll keep that in mind,” Bassie replied. “It's good to meet you. It's hard to find somewhere peaceful. There aren't a whole lot of quiet places, and I've been struggling to keep it together... Have you ever heard of post-season blues?”
“Post-season blues?” Stratus asked. “What's that?”
“Flyte came up with the term. Us holiday Toons feel miserable when it isn't our time of year,” she explained. “We feel gloomy, and we don't have a whole lot of energy. Your sister thinks it's the lack of sunlight causing us to get depressed, but if that's true, then why does Bobette feel terrible in the spring and summer? That makes zero sense.”
This set off alarm bells in Stratus' head. He already knew about his mind being altered for the sake of "matching his character", and the fact that this condition only affected holiday Toons clearly pointed towards the condition being described as artificial in nature. However, he didn't want to say anything about that until he could figure out a motive for why their creators would implement such a bizarre psychological oddity.
The cloud above the two quit raining for a few moments, the drizzle being temporarily replaced by the sounds of thunder as Stratus began to think. After a pause, he raised his head to look at Bassie. "That sounds a lot like what I g-go through,” he said. “You and the others aren't alone. The difference with me is that I experience this every single day of the year. It's how I came out.”
“Every single day?” Bassie asked out loud, a bit of concern creeping into her voice as she fought the urge to hug him. She was in his shoes for most of the year, and knew exactly how hard it was to deal with these sorts of problems. “That's terrible. How have you not given up yet?”
“I kind of have,” Stratus admitted, his tone of voice being one of acceptance rather than frustration or defeat. “I just go through with the motions. I get up. I talk with my sister. We go and do our jobs, although to be honest, I do less than her. I sometimes show off my storm clouds to the kids, and that's about all I really do. It's good to see them smile, but it leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.” He could feel the pent-up frustration brewing in his body, and Bassie could read it on his face as plain as day. “My p-powers are a curse.”
The material that made up his head sagged as he began to recount all of the accidents and mishaps he had. Each and every one was just further affirmation of his own self-perceived worthlessness; bricks in a wall that quarantine him from the rest of Gardenview. “Every time I get overwhelmed, I make a big mess,” he finished, muttering while his body seemed to almost shrink inward on itself. The shame in his voice poisoned every word he spoke. “I was afraid you were going to yell at me because of how wet the couch is. Why did you even bother staying? Nobody likes sticking around while it's pouring, and I'm sure sitting there is uncomfortable.”
“I don't think your storms are bad,” Bassie rebutted. She smiled at Stratus, and then looked up at the source of the break room's downpour. “The sound of rain is relaxing, and that gloomy weather of yours is very important. It gives flowers the water they need to bloom. Even if the clouds make things look more lifeless in the moment, they leave things better than they were before. Everything and everyone has its place in this world. You've just got to find yours.”
Stratus felt as though his brain was about to speed into a cliff face. Nobody but his sister or their handler ever complimented his storms! Was she being genuine, or was she just trying to make him feel better? Bassie could see how nervous he was getting. His eyes darted around as all other noise faded into the background. He didn't know how to take this!
“Is something wrong?” She asked, breaking him out of his trance. “I-I didn't mean to upset you! I'm just saying that-”
“N-n-n-n...” Stratus inhaled like a choking man starved of oxygen, trying to anchor himself as static electricity began to build between the two. “N-nobody h-h-has ever s-said something like that to me before,” he mumbled into one of his raincoat's sleeves. “M-m-my sister and handler try their best to e-e-encourage me, but you're the first to realize w-what the actual problem is. I don't feel like I belong.”
The two of them remained quiet. The gears in Stratus' head turned as he tried to find a way to switch the topic. He was being complimented too much, and the feelings this invoked were unfamiliar. Said unfamiliarity bred discomfort, and he knew he had to do something before the weather worsened.
“I l-like the flowers in your head,” he remarked. “Those are hyacinths, aren't they?”
“Mhm!” Bassie confirmed, allowing him to steer the conversation away towards what made him feel uncomfortable. “They're one of my favorites.” She ran her fingers through the pressed flowers her head-basket contained, displaying to Stratus one of the few things she felt prideful of as he admired the beauty they brought along with her. “I know you don't have a green thumb like Violet does, but do you have any flowers that you like?”
“I sometimes look through her textbooks when I'm bored,” Stratus admitted. “There's a few I like. There's the astilbe, which I like because it's a bit hardier than your average flower. It can be grown in shade or by bodies of water, and I think there's a bit of beauty in that sort of stubbornness. There's also the gladiolus, the lupin, periwinkles...”
A literal spark of recognition went through him as electricity traveled from his chest and through his head, illuminating it with sparks that did not dare to jump out and harm his newfound companion. “Oh!” He exclaimed, almost jumping up from his seat. “Those aren't my favorite plant, though. If we're going beyond the field of flowers, there's this one vine I saw in a book once that I liked. It's called the bittersweet. I'm having trouble remembering its scientific name, but I'm sure Sunny will know. It's a kind of nightshade.”
“Those are actually some interesting answers,” Bassie observed, brushing her hand against one of her handles. “Even though you don't share her interests, I can tell you put a lot of thought into this.”
“I have a lot of time to think,” Stratus responded. The words tasted of dejection and bitterness; the culmination of months spent by himself. “I'm not as popular as my sister is, and I don't have any friends-”
He paused, his eyes widening as he had an epiphany; one that could introduce a paradigm shift in the previously barren social ecosystem he called his own. It was a fragile bloom sprouting from the ground; the first step towards something new. “...Or maybe I do now,” he remarked. “I-I don't know what to call you.”
“I-I'd...” Bassie trailed off, thinking to herself. “I'd like to get to know you more,” she finished. “Although, I do have a question. If you aren't into gardening, then what do you do with your free time?”
“I like listening to music,” he replied. “I have a whole collection that our handler keeps adding onto. He's got good taste, and he's broadened my horizons a ton. If you want to listen with me, I'll gladly let you.”
At this point, the cloud above them had entirely fizzled out. Stratus only just realized that the source of shade it provided was gone, and he was dumbfounded. No one had ever dragged him out of one of his episodes this fast before! Maybe Violet was right, and he should've started making friends sooner.
He felt something nudge him a few times, slowly drawing his distracted mind back to reality. “Hey, Stratus, can you hear me?” Bassie asked. “I said I'd like to give it a shot. Since your rain calmed me down, maybe this could help me, too?”
For the first time today, he smiled. It wasn't a big smile, but it was genuine; something he could call his own. He couldn't remember the last time he felt like this. “S-sorry about zoning out,” he muttered. “I was just thinking about some things. We can go now, if you want.”
The two of them got up from the damp, soggy couch and began to walk towards the room Stratus shared with his sister. He hummed a tune while they navigated the halls, the tune echoing throughout the empty hallways.
A few hours later...
“-these guys were pioneers and trendsetters,” Stratus began to prattle on, filled with an abundant energy that contrasted his usually reserved self. “They were using all of the latest technology of the time as it was coming out. They were practically on the bleeding edge! Not only did they have a lot of reach overseas, but they were massively popular in their homeland. They permanently left their footprint on multiple musical genres. I've absolutely fallen in love with their sound, and I've been begging Keith to get me more albums. I must've listened to this one a thousand times by now!”
Bassie sat on Stratus' bed, tapping her foot on the floor to the music that was playing. She couldn't entirely understand the language of music that her new friend was speaking, but she could feel the love for it he had in his voice. It almost reminded her of Shelly if she was obsessed with synths and drum machines instead of dinosaurs, but she still listened patiently. It was worth it just to hear the next song he had lined up; each one bringing something new to the table. “Wait, who's Keith?” She asked. “I don't recognize the name. Is he your-”
“He's the handler of both myself and my sister,” Stratus confirmed. “He's a nice guy. He's made my music collection balloon in size like a... Like a...” He struggled to think of an analogy for a few moments, but he was interrupted by someone knocking at his door, causing him to jolt from his seat.
“I'll get it!” Stratus shouted. He got up and began to walk to the door, but mid-way, he stumbled. He was feeling dizzy again. He always was sickly, and the fact that his body was acting up at a time like this instantly sucked the joy out of the room.
He began to walk more carefully, and once he was done with that ordeal, he opened the door.
Violet was standing before him, and right behind her was their handler. He was a massive man compared to his fellow employees, his towering starture and gut making him take up a lot of space in any room he went to. To the Toons, he may as well have been a giant.
“We've been looking for you,” Keith said. “Did you forget to come back to us? You normally check in with me a couple hours after one of your wellness breaks, so I was starting to get worried.”
Violet peered behind Stratus and saw Bassie sitting on the bed. The latter gave her a shy wave, and then went back to listening to the album currently playing.
“Wait a minute. What's Bassie doin' here?” Violet asked, scratching her head as she attempted to decipher what had exactly gone on in her absence. “Don't tell me you got a girlfriend while we weren't lookin'!” She snickered at her own bad joke, hoping to ruffle her brother's feathers a little.
Stratus stammered a bit, but he quickly composed himself. He was emboldened not only by what he accomplished today, but by the music that was playing as well. “I made a friend today,” he stated plainly, puffing out his chest as if receiving honors for his courage. “Bassie's really kind. I'm sorry for not coming, but I got a bit excited in the moment and decided to show off my collection. It just wasn't for myself, though. She wasn't feeling the best, and I thought I'd cheer her up.”
Violet giggled. “Jeez, Stormy, you're still stuck listening to these guys?” She teased. “It's been two and a half weeks, and I still hear that same album every morning.” She poked Stratus' head a few times. “Are you sure your brain ain't stuck on loop?”
“I know how to pick 'em,” Keith bragged, resigning himself to watching things proceed for the moment. “I think I just gave your brother a new obsession.”
The two new arrivals walked into the room. Keith reclined against the wall, while Violet only walked a few steps before stopping in place. She could see how wobbly her brother's legs were getting.
“Hey, lemme help ya,” she said, letting him lean on her body. The two slowly walked to Stratus' bed, and once they were there, he almost collapsed onto it with how hard he tumbled onto it. The two of them both sat down. Bassie twitched once or twice as her anxiety fought her rational mind. She didn't like being surrounded by a lot of people, which her post-season blues only magnified, but she knew for a fact that she could trust these two. That allowed her to maintain her composure, even though her instincts were whispering to her to leave.
“I think I'm beginning to feel a bit sick,” Stratus complained. “I felt like I was about to fall flat on my face again.” As if to accentuate his point, he began to enter a coughing fit.
“Are you okay?” Bassie asked, her face furrowed in concern as she began to worry for him. “Is this normal for you?”
“My brother's been like this for quite a while,” Violet told her. “It started a few months after we were “born”. Sometimes, he falls ill and gets bedridden for a few days. No one's been able to determine why it happens. He thinks Delilah did this to him on pur-”
“Violet, not now!” Stratus yelled in an uncharacteristically irritated tone. “I-I told you not to talk about that with anyone but me. Do you even take what I say seriously?” He pointed a finger at her, static sparking from his hand as he glared at her. “First you brush off how I feel, and n-now you're talking about private knowledge I thought I could trust you with! W-why can't you do a better job of listening to me?” Out of the ether, cloudstuff began to form, coalescing into what was going to be yet another storm. “Y-You always see things through rose-tinted glasses! It's like your brain refuses to actually think about anything that isn't related to plant life!”
“I didn't know that conspiracy stuff was that important to you!” Violet shouted back, seeming more concerned than angry. “I know I don't go through what you do, but that's why I kept tellin' you to see Bassie! She's been in your shoes-”
“I didn't want to make her worry!” Stratus exclaimed, the cloud above them forming bigger; looming over the three Toons like an ill omen. “This is the first friend I've got, and I don't want her to think I'm crazy! I-I don't want to say anything until I find evidence, anyway! I'm not going to pull a Rodger and jump the gun before I've built a solid case!”
Stratus looked up at the brewing storm hanging right below the ceiling, his anger melting away in an instant. “No, not again!” He shouted.
Seeing how heated things were getting, Keith interjected. “Hey, little man, how about we just focus on the music and calm down?” He asked, his placid demeanor trying its hardest to de-fang his charge's negativity. “You don't wanna zap your bedsheet again, right? I got some news straight off the presses for you if you're willing to chill out.”
“What's going on?” Stratus asked, the cloud above him slowly dissolving as he began to calm himself.
“Let's just say that Santa heard your prayers,” Keith mentioned while rubbing his hands, anticipation flowing through his veins. Nobody in this room but him had any idea how much brown-nosing and persuasion he had to do in order to make Stratus' dreams a reality. “With a bit of practice, you won't be living in your sister's shadow anymore.”
Stratus shivered not from nerves, but from excitement. It looked almost as if he was going to burst from the sheer amount of manic energy that entered his system.
Bassie flinched as she felt a bit of static electricity against her arm. “What's gotten you so amped up?” She said, unaware of the pun she had just made. Violet, however, caught these words and smirked, cracking up at her friend's unintentional joke.
“I'll finally be getting my equipment!” Stratus exclaimed, leaping up from bed like a phoenix reborn. “I-I'll be able to do more than just listen! I can compose! I can make my own music; my own legacy! I've been asking about this for months, and now I'm finally going to have something to call my own!”
“Good job,” Violet stated, looking at her handler. “He's gonna explode from hype any minute now. On a more serious note...” Her smirk morphed into a reassuring smile as she directed her attention towards her brother. “I'm happy for ya. I know you aren't always feelin' the best, so I live to see moments like these." She pointed at Stratus, her finger lightly brushing against his raincoat. "Etch this into your memory the next time you're down in the dumps. You've got family, friends, and a whole bunch 'a gadgets comin' your way, so don't go thinkin' everything is all doom and gloom, got it?”
Stratus got into another coughing fit, his vision swimming. He sat back down on the bed, his legs feeling like jelly, but his smile didn't waver.
“All of this talk of creating and preserving things reminds me of why I like my own hobbies,” Bassie remarked. “They revolve around bringing new things into this world and preserving their beauty.” She glanced at Violet for a few moments, feeling a bit nervous as she remembered the ease with which her friend did her job compared to her. “Although, uh... Sometimes, I feel kind of dumb around you,” she admitted. “You know so much more than me.”
“You're a quick learner, though,” Violet complimented. “Plus, you've got a better sense for what sorts of flower arrangements actually look good. I got zero sense for aesthetics. I'm about as fashionable as one of those ugly Christmas sweaters Bobette has stashed in the back of her closet. I'm the only chick who wears overalls to a tea party, y'know?”
“Wait, you're friends with Teagan?” Stratus asked, confusion bubbling up in his mind. He couldn't imagine someone who was any more different than her. Teagan was all proper and fancy, while his sister loved nothing more than to get her hands dirty. It was like hearing about oil and water mixing together.
“We got to talkin' about flowers once, and after that, she gave me a proper invitation,” Violet recounted. “It felt weird bein' at such a gathering, but the others were nice enough. I liked it enough that I kept comin' back, and maybe if you're ever feelin' courageous, I could have her invite you, too. It's a lotta Toons, so I know you won't try it right away, but I know you'll be able to do it in the future. You already opened up to my co-gardener, y'know? It's like I've always said: you're stronger than ya think you are. You just gotta find that spark of bravery.” She patted Stratus on the back, although Bassie noticed that he didn't flinch like he did when she tried to touch him. She recognized then that he most likely only liked physical contact when it came from someone he knew well.
“...I don't know if I'd be comfortable with that,” Stratus mumbled, rubbing his head with the sleeve of his raincoat. “Maybe I could go to a gathering, but only if it was small.” He flinched, grimacing as he held his head with his hands. “I think I'm getting a headache. Can we continue this conversation tomorrow?”
Violet nodded. Bassie and their handler said their goodbyes, and Stratus was left to rest and recover from yet another bout of illness.
He slept like a rock. When he woke up, it took a few minutes to force himself to open his eyes, and when he saw the clock on the wall, he grumbled to himself. It was 12:43 PM. He slept through the entire morning, and he still felt sicker than a dog.
He thought back to his most recent memories, wondering if they were even real. There was no way he let someone new stay in his bedroom; let alone give them permission to enter. Someone as kind as Bassie shouldn't have existed. He lamented the fact that he woke back up in the reality he lived in, but when he turned on his side, he saw something.
There was something new. A vase with flowers in it stuck out like a sore thumb on his nightstand. Seeing the sticky note on the vase, he forced his arm to move. It felt like his bones were weighed down with lead, but he managed to grab the note and pull it closer to him so that he could read it.
The message on it was simple, yet reaffirming:
“Get better soon! - Bassie”
Stratus began to cry tears of joy. He wasn't dreaming! He really did find a friend, and she actually remembered to check in on him! His head felt as though there was an ice pick lodged in it, he could hardly breathe, and his body was wracked with pain, but the newfound hope in his soul refused to be extinguished.
Maybe things didn't have to be all bad. Sure, he still didn't trust those at the top, but even though Gardenview wasn't perfect, there were still things worth living for.