Failed First Attempts
The forest-wandering trio returned to the village and spent the last few hours rummaging through books and throwing ideas back and forth – either with each other or they sought help from other Smurfs when they were in earshot. About thirty passersbys offered their assistance, but most of it was rejected because what they considered “surefire” was deemed “crash and burn” tactics.
The old Goblin could only take so much “help” from every Smurf. It wasn’t long before he became aggravated and retreated to Moxette’s house with her, Smurfette, and Sassette.
Moxette was half-heartedly skimming through a picture book while her blonde companion spruced up a flower vase near the back wall. The little Smurfling stood next to the bed where Mystico lie with his hands over his midsection, one over the other, and his expression showed dissatisfaction and grief. At one point, Sassette had asked if he was feeling okay – “chipper as a chipmunk” as she’d said – and he simply nodded.
"What do you think she might like?” Moxette asked after a long, quiet pause. She looked up from her book at him.
Mystico shrugged and said, “I don’t know...something impressive?”
"What’s impressive to you?”
He turned his head to see her and replied, “I used to think being evil and strong was what females were attracted to, but maybe I’ve been gone too long. I bet times have changed.”
"Well, most girls like something that makes you unique,” Smurfette commented, “A smurfy talent like telling jokes, making music, or cooking can be smurftacular, Mystico. So, what talents do you have?” He pushed his upper half off the bed with his hands and rubbed his neck for a minute.
"Come now, you must be good at something,” she insisted.
"The only things I know how to do well are turn other creatures into Goblins and play pranks,” he admitted uneasily. He could tell by Smurfette’s expression that she didn’t consider either trait being smurfy, and Sassette’s giggling wasn’t making him feel any better.
"Pranks? Aren’t those just a smurf childish?” Moxette asked, cracking a smile.
"I picked that up from an old friend, that’s all,” he protested, shifting positions to turn his back to them, “I haven’t actually pulled a fast one in a few hundred years. I don’t even know why I said it since it’s not really a ‘talent’, let alone a hobby.”
His sour tone put a damper on the girls’ moods, but Moxette sympathized for him; she put her book down and approached him. Hearing her footsteps, he tucked his tail to one side of his body and held his legs with his head almost resting on his knees.
"Don’t feel bad, Mystico,” she said, patting his back, “You’ve probably just got an underlying talent you haven’t discovered about yourself yet. I’m sure if we put our smurfs to it, you’ll unlock it.” His eyes darted in her direction once, and then away. “Just like Somebody Smurf.”
He cringed with a mild hiss escaping his lips, so she removed her hand and stepped back. She caught a glimpse of his fangs as he hopped off the opposite side of the bed.
"That fool’s a complete nobody! Don’t compare him to me ever again!” With that, he stormed his way out the door.
"Grumpy gophers, what’s wrong with him?” Sassette queried, bewildered. Smurfette huffed, putting her hands on her hips, and told her that she thought he was overreacting and so on while Moxette sighed with her eyes still on the front door. She decided to follow him in the hopes of convincing him to come back inside; after all, she finally thought of something for him to offer Vira and figured he’d like to hear about it.
. . .
Vira, sleeping peacefully in the pocket of an oak tree, twitched now and then as she dreamed: a memory made her wiggle her nose and curl her tail. A bird twittered nearby, jubilantly and heartily, causing her to wake. She blinked a few times and turned her head towards the little robin with a groan.
"Can’t a girl get a few minutes of silence?” she grumbled, sitting up. She rubbed her eyes and yawned, stretching her arms away from her body, but suddenly a twig snapped below. She froze with wide eyes.
"Who’s there?” At the first sign of movement in her peripheral vision, she hugged the branch and growled, staring daggers at – much to her surprise – Mystico who briefly caught her eye.
"Hello again,” he called up to her.
"Oh, it’s just you,” she replied in a bored tone, rolling her eyes. She sat up and crossed her arms and legs, watching him sternly with her tail curling and uncurling. “What do you want?”
"Come closer and I’ll tell you,” he answered.
“No thanks.”
"I mean you no harm.”
"Don’t care.”
"Just come down here, okay?”
"Mm…nah. I’m fine up in this tree,” she said with a persnickety grin and one-shoulder shrug, “Besides, I’m not really interested in you or whatever you say, so you may as well just go.” She flicked her hand at him and lay on her back on the branch with the other hand behind her head, adding, “Go on – find another girl to bother. Shoo now.”
Mystico huffed and shook his head; he spread his arms and jumped into the air as he reminded her that she is the only girl left to bother. He landed on the branch beside hers and kept his hands where she could see them.
"Maybe you’d rather we get to know each other first,” he suggested. She hopped to her feet and scowled at him.
"I’d rather not,” she responded arrogantly, “I don’t need you or any other guys like you trying to brush up to me. You’re better off luring a mermaid than you are me.”
"I’m just trying to be considerate of your feelings,” he insisted, trying to remain calm – her attitude was beginning to test his patience.
"Look, Misty, I’m sure you’re a nice fellow, but my mind’s made up. I’m not ready to mate, I don’t want to mate, nor do I want anything to do with the very idea of finding a suitable mate, so leave me alone before I make you leave.” He didn’t budge, so she bared her teeth, narrowed her eyes, lifted her arms to expand her wings, and cocked her ears back as she added, “I’ll give you a five-second head start. One...two...three...”
"Alright, alright, I’m going already!” he snapped; he groaned and glided down without looking back. He came to a stop near a tree maybe twenty feet away and scurried into the underbrush, out of sight. Back in the tree, Vira relaxed and smiled.
"What happened?” Moxette asked upon his return.
"I tried being nice and she threatened to hurt me if I didn’t leave her alone, that’s what happened!” he cried angrily. The Smurfs could tell his fur had been ruffled and were quiet for a minute to let him cool off. He told them, “Now what?” once he was ready.
"I suggest you smurf her an item to express your smurfy feelings,” Brainy proposed, “Perhaps she would like a few of my most favorable quotes from my Quotations series, or a copy of my latest book, Accepting a Smurfy Suitor the Brainy Smurf Way, which, might I say, is quite the piece de Smurf, or maybe -”
"Shut up, Brainy!” Moxette exclaimed. She turned to Mystico and said, “A personal offering is a great idea, so let’s give it a go.” The Goblin pondered for a moment and agreed that it could work. “Right then – we’ll smurf her something she can’t possibly ignore.”
"Hopefully this trick will turn out to be my treat,” he commented as they headed back to the village. “Come on, Four-Eyes.”
Brainy crossed his arms and frowned, asking, "What have you two got against good literature?”
Neither one answered, so he just followed them, muttering to himself something about not being appreciated for his genius. Quite frankly, Moxette tuned him out and sang the La La Song in her head with her pig-snouted companion at her side. She didn’t admit anything out loud, but she was starting to like hanging around him, much more than Brainy by any comparable standard.
. . .
The sun set hesitantly. Mystico was perched – slumped, more like – on a toadstool on the outer edge of the village, far enough from it to ensure he would not be found too soon. He hung his head with his wings at his sides and was still as a statue; his eyes were closed and a gentle breeze picking up swayed his hair. He became aware of a visitor when they stepped on a fallen leaf, but his only motion was one ear cocking towards the sound.
"Hey there."
It was Moxette, to his relief, so he opened his eyes somewhat and listed his head to the left until he caught sight of her in his peripheral vision. Then he exhaled and gestured for her to come closer with his hand. By now the sun had disappeared over the horizon and the shadows were extending, limiting the range of colors visible to the female. He, however, was able to make a clearer distinction of color and shadow during the night than day.
"You okay?” She sat down next to him and held her hands in her lap.
"I guess so,” he mused with a shrug, “In case you haven’t noticed, I have a bone to pick with Nobody.”
"It’s Somebody, Mystico. He changed his name,” she corrected gently. He seemed to dismiss this after a moment, so she didn’t feel it was necessary to explain his backstory – she figured he’d hear enough and wanted nothing more to do with the Smurf. “And I’m sorry your relationship with him isn’t the smurfiest. I was just smurfing you an example, that’s all.”
"Fine, Moxie.” He turned the other cheek to her, and for a few minutes they were silent. The fading light cast grey, black, and blue-purple hues across the land accompanied by a rapidly star-filled sky; Moxette stood and viewed the woods behind them.
"We should get back to the village before any Smurf sends out a search party,” she suggested, “and I could use your help finding my way.” When Mystico looked at her, she added, “You can smurf better than me in the dark, so…” He got the hint and straightened up, checking their surroundings before proceeding, but was caught somewhat off-guard by her next gesture: she took his hand.
He gave her a confused, almost misreading glance, but rather than pull away he let her hold it. Tentatively he closed his fingers over hers, hoping Vira was nowhere near them to see this – he convinced himself that his Smurfy companion did so in order to assure they wouldn’t separate. He led her back to the village in time for dinner, and before he retreated from the crowd, she told him what she thought he should bring to the female Goblin.
. . .
That night, the old creature lie awake in Greedy’s bed – having highjacked it – and found that his nocturnal instincts kept him just out of reach of a decent sleep. Frustrated by the lagging hours of restlessness, he huffed and dragged himself out of the house, out the window. He thought briefly of confiscating Somebody Smurf’s territory, but it would be only in vain.
With nothing more to do, he crawled on all fours and advanced to Moxette’s little mushroom. He perked up his ears as he passed the others, each offering some interesting noise of snores, ticking clocks, breathing, or etcetera.
"These beings are louder than they think,” he murmured, “...than they ‘smurf'...” He chuckled quietly, repeating it again, mocking their language. The laughter renewed his energy, so he smirked and hopped onto the nearest roof.
"This should be a lot faster,” he said. He leapt to the next one and added, “and a lot more fun!” before continuing along.
Soon enough, he reached his destination, but unlike most other Smurfs, he discovered that Moxette did not leave her windows open during the night. He wondered for only a second how to work around this, and then spotted the chimney above him; he sprung to it with a powerful flap of his wings and dove headfirst into the top.
Bop!
He landed flat on his back on the ledge of the mushroom structure and dug his claws into it to sojourn the fall to the ground – he saw four chimneys swirling for a minute. When they became one, he kicked his feet until he touched the wall and threw his body onto the roof in a backflip. He shook his head, rubbing the sore spot on his forehead, and stared, quite befuddled, at the smokestack behind him.
“What just happened?” he asked himself. He recollected and hopped back to the top of the chimney to inspect it. Just as he suspected, there was a metal plate – he realized that he must have struck it before seeing it. Annoyed, he furrowed his brow and slid off the roof, ultimately giving up further attempt to enter. He decided he would bother Moxette in the morning and try to find food in the meantime; he hadn’t eaten in a few hours.
Author's Notes
This time around, Part 2 is the other half of Part 1 and now I feel better.