Hiatus Interruptus

[Heroine]

"Well, I don't care if it rains or freezes,
Long as I have my plastic Jesus
Riding on the dashboard of my car
Through all trials and tribulations,
We will travel every nation,
With my plastic Jesus I'll go far.

I don't care if it's dark or scary
Long as I have magnetic Mary
Ridin' on the dashboard of my car
I feel I'm protected amply
I've got the whole damn Holy Family
Riding on the dashboard of my car."

To call the red-and-white-checkered sheet of plastic a tablecloth is a crime against good taste, but he did it, sure enough. The drably dressed drow was complaining that his laminated checkerboard of a table covering was torn, and that he wanted it replaced before he came back from the bathroom. Normally this wouldn’t faze Darcy a bit, but after a six-hour shift of cleaning up after noisy, messy ogrelings, she was one nerve away from replacing the patron’s order with the daily special: green noodle strudel. The thing about green noodle strudel, is it’s certainly not strudel, it neither contains, nor even resembles noodle(s), and it’s not even green. Imagine a sink full of expired dairy products, bread crust, rodents, and a party-favor bag full of multicolored rubber erasers. Turn on the garbage disposal, and the end result is the special of the day. Some days are better than others. And coming up with a proper name was always a fun game. In this kind of mood, however, even her smile wouldn’t do her any good.

“Sure thing, pal,” she sighed and clacked her saddle-shoes over to his table and rotated the greasy plastic tablecloth so she could put the sugar caddy on top of the miniscule tear. Clapping the imaginary dust from her hands, she sauntered back behind the counter as the cook dinged the bell.

“Or'der up!”

“Got it,” the girl winked, sliding the plate of “Thaw and Heat Mystery Meat,” from the window across to the customer sitting at the blah-colored counter reading the day’s paper.

“Thank ye’ luv. Ain’t yew the purdy thang?”

“Thanks Merle. Don’t ‘cha ever get tired of the same old plate of food?”

“Naw, keeps mah face pretty,” he drawled, grinning toothlessly.

It was a typical day at the Greasy Spoon Saloon – she got a job serving just to make ends meet. Food and shelter didn’t cost but a few gold pieces if you were willing to sacrifice things like fluffed pillows and nice sheets. There were locking doors and hot showers too, even if there were rusty nails everywhere to snag your hand on. The stairs needed work, the walls were cracked from woodwork to ceiling, and the kitchen was infested with vermin. It was home, though, and despite the life she had been used to back in Murestone, she knew that life was gone. That, and a place like Scara Brea was a much bigger, and that meant feeding her addiction to opiates was a lot easier. She didn’t have to rely on her friend to get something decent to shoot up her arm anymore. Not in this town. So Darcy was just biding her time, watching the clock while sitting on a red plastic swivel-chair, when the darndest thing happened.

[Göth]

“Shit…”

Akuro, who normally does not use foul language in any manner or sort, was unable to control his mouth. As he stared around him, he knew he should be waking up right now on an uncomfortable bed inside the cheapest tavern of Scara Brea he could find but he wasn’t. Instead, he was in the most familiar and unsightly place he could think of. In his casual clothes, he sat in a small circle of light radiating down from an unseen spot high in the sky. Surrounded on all sides by tangible and perpetual darkness, the boy knew exactly where he was, but he couldn’t imagine why. The last thing he remembered was dreaming of himself some day sitting on a beach, alone, without any voices in his head and listening to the tranquility of the sea. Next thing he knew the sky was raining fire and a grim laughing echoed in his ear then he woke, to this.

His own mind.

“Tsukazka…why are you doing this? What do you have planned?”

Albeit he couldn’t possibly know it, for he was no longer in control and too far gone to fight back, the boy’s body was getting dressed in that same shabby room with a sinister grin. Today was going to be the creature’s day of fun. Though his form was still that of Akuro, the dark sadistic glean in his eyes and the way his mouth crooked each time a thought came to mind proved to the knowledge eye that this was no longer Akuro. In place of the pacifistic though sometimes-insane little boy was now an insatiable killer, Tsukazka.

“Demon’s are dreaming, my boy…and we are getting hungry!”

The cruel, rasping voice echoed out, sending a shiver down a maid in the hall. From the sound of the voice alone her mind summoned phantoms of shadows darker then possible and monsters leaping from closets. Crying out, she burst into an unoccupied room and leapt to her bed, childhood fears coming alive. Covering herself with a pillow and blanket, she sobbed until she heard the barefoot steps of the boy sound in the hallway. Stifling her whining, the maid listened until they thumped down the stairs.

She prayed for the people below.

Stepping to the door, Tsukazka stared out into the boringly drab town. He wanted excitement, he wanted fun, he wanted blood and murder, but most of all, he wanted food. This pathetic body couldn’t drink the pure untainted souls of the young like his true form could, but simple bloodied meat would do. The darkness in his eyes deepened as he stared down a customer who had grown too curious, growing amused as the man cringed and returned to his disgusting meal. Within but a few strides, the boy’s form, possessed by the demon within, sat at the counter as if he was normal. Coughing to clear his voice, Tsukazka concentrated for a moment and found Akuro’s vocal cords within and took a crash course on using them. After he assumed his control was sufficient, he coughed again to get the attention of the waitress and spoke up.

“I would like a steak, raw, with no spices as soon as you can get it for me…please.”

Coughing again, pretending he had a sore throat, he gulped up a fake smile beneath the dark eyes at the waitress. Scanning the room, he watched a disgruntled Drow mercenary walk back from the bathrooms, sitting at a table. As he sat, he bumped into the tablecloth and accidentally knocked over the sugar dispenser. Cursing as he picked up the sugar and glancing around the room to see if anyone noticed, the Drow was almost finished when he stopped dead, staring at the tablecloth. The slight discomfort in his purple eyes shifted to a deepening anger. Standing once more, he picked up the sugar dispenser and slammed it down on his table. Grumbling, the Drow strode to the counter and started yelling at one of the waitresses about a tear in his cloth. Apparently this was the second time telling her, and if it wasn’t fixed ‘immediately’ then he would be doing something that sounded threatening, but Tsukazka couldn’t make it out.

Stifling a chuckle, the demon watched through his boy’s eyes as the scene unfolded in the tavern.

[Taskmienster]

This thread has been sitting for a full year. Since no response has been made to create activity I am going to be moving this. If you would like it to be reopened please feel free to PM myself or another admin and they will be able to move it for you back to Scara Brae.