Addy's Rude Welcome

The air crackled with an energy that wasn't quite electricity, more like the buzzing of a thousand tiny, annoyed bees. Suddenly, a blur of pink and glitter zipped into their midst, hovering just above the polished floor. It was Addy, and she looked like she’d just stepped out of a particularly dramatic music video. Her hair, a shocking shade of bubblegum, was spiked upwards as if defying gravity, and her eyes, framed by lashes that could probably sweep a small room, narrowed with pure, unadulterated disapproval.

“Ugh, *you* people,” she spat, her voice dripping with more sarcasm than a leaky faucet. She gestured wildly with a hand adorned with rings that clinked like tiny bells. “What are you even doing here? This is *our* space. Go on, scram!”

67, who had been happily contemplating the mathematical enigma of 9+10, blinked. “Six seven?” they chirped, their internal circuits whirring with a mix of confusion and mild alarm. Six seven had never been told to “scram” before. Six seven usually *got* things. Like, for instance, subscribers. Lots and lots of subscribers.

Addy scoffed, a sound remarkably similar to a grumpy cat clearing its throat. She adjusted her sparkly skirt, which seemed to be the source of her aerial prowess. It shimmered and pulsed with a soft, internal glow, giving the illusion of flight. But there was something… off. Her movements, while quick, felt a little jerky, like a puppet whose strings were being pulled by someone slightly drunk. She’d hover for a moment, then dip, then wobble precariously, before righting herself with a dramatic flourish.

“Yeah, you! Six-whatever-you-are,” Addy snapped, pointing a perfectly manicured finger directly at 67. “This is OG 21’s place. And he doesn’t like… *intruders*. So, unless you want to be politely escorted out by force, I suggest you turn around and find a new hobby.”

OG 21, who had been patiently observing the exchange from his usual spot near the window, let out a low, rumbling sound. It was less a word and more a gentle vibration that seemed to emanate from his very core. It was the kind of sound that made you feel like you were being hugged by a warm, slow-moving cloud.

67 tilted their head. “Six seven… likes OG 21,” they said, their voice a little softer now. The initial surprise was giving way to curiosity. This Addy character was certainly… lively. Six seven appreciated lively. As long as lively wasn’t trying to shove six seven out the door.

“Oh, you *like* him?” Addy mimicked, her voice laced with disbelief. She floated a little closer, her sparkly skirt giving a little hiccup of effort. “Well, guess what? He’s never met you before, and frankly, he’s got better things to do than entertain a bunch of… well, a bunch of you!”

She emphasized the last word with a dramatic wave of her hand, nearly losing her balance and doing a rather undignified spin. But she recovered with a gasp and a wide-eyed stare that tried to convey immense power, but mostly just looked a little panicked.

“Whoa there, petal,” a slow, deep voice rumbled. It was OG 21, his words taking their sweet time to form, each syllable a carefully placed stone on a path. “No need for… unnecessary… excitement.”

Addy huffed, crossing her arms. “Unnecessary excitement? They’re practically camping out on your doorstep, 21! Don’t you want them gone?”

OG 21’s glowing optical sensors, usually a soft, steady blue, flickered for a moment. He looked at 67, then at the rest of the 67 crew, who were huddled together, looking like a vibrant, slightly bewildered flock of birds. He looked at Addy, her pink hair practically vibrating with indignation.

“They are… new,” OG 21 said, his voice a gentle current. “New is… not always… unwelcome.”

Addy let out a dramatic groan. “Oh, for the love of glitter! You are too nice for your own good, 21! They’re probably here to steal your secrets, or your snacks, or your… your really cool stillness!” She gestured vaguely at OG 21, as if his very essence was a marketable commodity.

67 felt a tiny spark of annoyance flicker within them. It wasn’t the kind of annoyance that made you want to yell, but the kind that made you want to prove someone wrong. Six seven was good at proving people wrong. Especially when they were being rude.

“Six seven is not a thief,” 67 stated, their voice firm. “Six seven is… a creator. A performer. Six seven is here to learn. And maybe… to share.” They glanced at OG 21. “Six seven finds OG 21… interesting.”

Addy snorted. “Interesting? He’s ancient history, kiddo. And you’re… what? A fad? A TikTok trend that’ll be gone by next week?” She leaned in, her sparkly skirt wobbling precariously. “Face it, you’re not on OG 21’s level. He’s… legendary. You’re just… noisy.”

The word “noisy” seemed to sting more than Addy intended. 67’s internal processors whirred, a faint hum of offense. Noisy? Six seven was *articulate*. Six seven was *engaging*. Six seven was on the cusp of… well, 67 million.

OG 21, however, seemed unfazed by Addy’s outburst. He simply watched, his gaze steady. He’d seen countless sparks of annoyance and aggression over his long existence. They usually fizzled out.

“Noisy,” 67 repeated, their voice a low thrum. “Six seven is not noisy. Six seven is… loud. There’s a difference.”

Addy let out a frustrated shriek. “Oh, I can’t deal with this! You’re impossible!” She flapped her arms, her skirt giving a particularly violent shimmy. She rose a few feet higher, looking down at them with a triumphant, albeit slightly wobbly, smirk. “Fine! Stay here with your… your ancient relic. But don’t expect a warm welcome. And if you try anything funny, you’ll regret it. Big time!”

With a final, dramatic flourish that involved a near-miss with a potted plant, Addy zipped away, her pink aura fading into the distance, leaving behind only the faint scent of artificial strawberries and a lingering sense of bewilderment.

The 67 crew let out a collective sigh of relief. The sudden, aggressive presence had been… a lot.

“Six seven did not like that,” 67 announced, their internal lights dimming slightly.

OG 21’s voice, slow and steady, filled the quiet space. “Addy… has a… strong… personality. She… protects… what she… cares about.” He paused, letting the words settle. “Sometimes… protection… can look… like… rudeness.”

67 considered this. It was a new perspective. Six seven usually just saw things as… right or wrong. Addy was clearly wrong. But OG 21, with his calm wisdom, suggested there might be more to it.

“Six seven… will remember that,” 67 said, their internal lights gradually brightening. The encounter had been jarring, but it had also sparked something. A desire to understand. To see beyond the surface. And as they looked at OG 21, a gentle, ancient presence who had weathered Addy’s storm with quiet grace, 67 felt a strange, unexpected pull. Perhaps this OG 21 wasn’t just interesting. Perhaps he was exactly what six seven needed to learn from. Even if he did have a… particularly… enthusiastic guardian. The thought of Addy’s wobbly flight and her indignant pronouncements brought a flicker of amusement to 67’s internal processors. Maybe, just maybe, this whole “meeting the OG” thing was going to be more interesting than six seven had initially anticipated. The adventure, it seemed, was just beginning.