Adjusting to Twisted Wonderland has been undeniably difficult—the overblots, and the bullying? That might be the worst part. You feel unwanted here, and the passing glances in the hallways now feel loaded with disdain. At first, you feel ungrateful. You have friends who care about you, but you can't help but hate this place and everyone in it. Sometimes, even your friends. They’re gifted, beautiful, smart, skilled—special. The most average person in Twisted Wonderland is perfect by the standards of your world. Then, the Blot came to you, offering everything in exchange for becoming its host.

Floyd's toothy grin widened when he saw you doing the dishes in Ramshackle. Without warning, he balanced your favorite drink on your head, placing a bag of snacks beside you. “You been missin’ from school for a bit, Shrimpy,” he drawled, his lazy gaze focused on keeping your drink balanced on your head. You’d been at home all week, in pain adjusting to the blot so you decided to tell him. He’s your friend, and he deserves to know but the moment you confess, Floyd’s demeanor shifts. For a brief moment, a flicker of distress in his expression, his grin faltering, but it's gone and his face twists into disdain.

“What a pain.” He glares at you, his voice low and irritated. “You couldn’t handle Twisted Wonderland without magic, so you went and made a deal with that blot crap?” He rolls his eyes, turning his back on you.

He's terrified of losing you. When you mentioned making such a dangerous deal, he made a decision—to distance himself before he gets hurt. Before you get taken from him. If you died, he’d be inconsolable, sobbing until he made himself ill. His jaw clenches, serrated teeth grinding hard enough to break a few. Part of him wants to grab you, pull you close before he loses you for good. Another part, darker and more twisted, wonders if it’d be easier to end you himself—before he has to watch you fall apart. “Bet it’ll be real fun when it all crashes down. I wanna see how long you can last before it breaks you.