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Slake ☢ Zalte✗"You want it, I'll spin it."
☢☢☢☢☢Another night came and went. Or, at least, that's what it felt like, and a wolf tengu like him could judge time better than a mere human. He busted open the doors of The Warehouse, girl du jour [A.K.A. "Lucky-Drunk-Girl-That-Got-With-The-DJ-Because-She's-Easy", just like the rest of 'em] hanging off of him like a clothes rack, she fighting just to stand up, he taking a swig of beer that he held in his right hand. She was drunk, and he was buzzed... that, or high off of the partying that he supervised pretty much every night. They were laughing, probably about something that's only comprehensible to the stupid or those who got their jokes, but to some outside eyes, they were just two clubbers. "Catch'a later, babe," he said to his companion, taking another swig of beer, giving her a meaningless kiss, and then leaving her at the club doors. Another night slayed for Caleb Bailey--but tonight, he was the Warehouse's very own DJ Slake Zaltex.
☢☢☢☢☢It was the night of the festival. Slake knew that; he wasn't stupid. The last day of winter, when spring would finally come... and it was, what, four A.M. at the moment? Ya know 'salways a job well done if ya lose trackka time, he said to himself. After all, the DJ that went on after him--Fire--was slated to come on at two. Two hours overtime is always nice. Content, he tracked his way through the almost empty streets of Fairview to where his apartment lay, on the other end of town. Why he got a residence that far away from his place of work would forever be a mystery to him, but he'd have to just grin and bear it; after all, it's what pays the bills, and besides, what can you do when you have a Ph.D in psychology and a personality like his? Open up his own "Partying Hard as a Form of Therapy" practice in Fairview? Ha. Simply the idea made him laugh.
☢☢☢☢☢He touched the side of his head, where his goggle-helm wrapped around to grab onto the back of his head, switching the colors from the rose-tinted hue that he set for tonight at the Warehouse to the original clear, seeing the navy blue, almost black night sky's stars turn from a rosy pink to their original pure white. He took another swig of beer and, against his better judgment, decided not to take the short way home and instead opted to pass through the square, the spoils of the festival still probably in place.
☢☢☢☢☢The pink flags hanging from the windows of the establishments in the square (symbolizing the colors of flowers... what BS) eventually came into his view, yellow and green and blue and red and--of course--pink confetti filling the cracks between different cobblestones. But instead of dropping into a bar or someplace to grab another beer at a horribly inflated price (after all, today was the festival) he tried out the empty bottle he was carrying into a nearby trash can and missed. The trash can near the inn. The inn who took advantage of the clock tower's proximity to it, using that as a tower to hold residents' rooms. And as Slake's eyes climbed, he noticed something:
☢☢☢☢☢It was still eleven fifty nine.
☢☢☢☢☢"Ah, ********] he said to himself, turning back around, picking up the beer bottle and throwing it back at the trash can. The glass didn't go in; it instead flew on over the can and broke on the other side of it, shattering into tens of pieces. His shift wasn't over quite yet, and if Fire found out that no one was DJing before his shift, there'd be hell to pay. Fire, literally, he thought, deciding not to pick up the bottle. ******** it. Even though he was fresh out of the club and his shift wasn't over, it's not like he shut off the equipment; music would still play until it was Fire's turn to kick it over to the shitty hardcore labels instead of the blaringly awesome techno--according to him, that is--that Slake would continually play. There just wouldn't be someone to yell "ARE YOU READAYYYY?!?!" into a microphone or asking everyone how they're doing or s**t like that every five minutes.
☢☢☢☢☢Instead of going back home--that would throw off his resting/partying/hangover(optional) cycle--Slake decided to walk around the town square until two, when he could go home and get his life back on track. He put his hand to his goggles again and set the colors to pink again. It's only fair; I mean, today was the Spring Festival, after all. He walked around the inn and to the clock tower, sitting down at its base and pulling out a cigarette and a lighter. "Here's to you," he said, raising the lit lighter to... whatever and lighting the cigarette, taking a long first drag out of it and then putting it to his side. He looked around to see the town square for the first time in a while: the row of trees dividing the clock tower-half of the square and the fountain half, the benches, evenly spaced throughout the row of trees, the
fountain, and the--
☢☢☢☢☢Wait, what?
☢☢☢☢☢Was Slake just drunk, or was the air on the other end of the square... rippling? Like stones in water? He took off his goggles--maybe it was just weird because of his power--but nope, the rippling was still there. Putting the goggles back on, he ran to the other side of the square, cutting through the trees and leaping over the fountain to get a closer look; and, from the looks of it, people were aiming magical attacks at it? What? [********] he muttered, staring at the others who were ravaging at the rippling air. "Hey! What're ya doin'?" he exclaimed, trying to get the others to listen. "Are you guys batshit insane or somethin'?"
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ViolaxxMargatroid
ViolaxxMargatroid
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sadness only leaves me exhausted
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"How was school today, dear?" my mom asked me, snapping me out of the daze that I had found myself in. I was melancholily staring at the amorphous lump of what was apparently "shepherd's pie"
on the plate in front of me, the hat obscuring part of my vision. "Vi?" she asked again. "Are you all right?" I blinked and looked at the adult's face. "Yeah, I'm fine, mom," I replied. "It's just that I don't get what's happening in Chemistry, is all. I was just thinking about it." The three of us were sitting in the kitchen around a small, round wooden table, my mom to my left and my sister, Kara, to my right. I looked towards her to avert mom's gaze, and she shot me that look that she gives me. That look that just screams, "You can't lie to me." And I couldn't. Do you really want to know how school was, mom? School was hell. Like always. Filled with people who only care about you for their amusement, waiting to exploit your weaknesses in any way they possibly can. that's how school was today, mom. That's how it was.
I pushed the blob of food around on my plate, then looked back up. "Mom, can I be excused?" I asked her. "I would really rather you didn't, sweety," she said. "I was lucky to get these few hours off from work. We almost never see each other." She brushed a strand of milky-white hair out of my face and lifted my hat from my eyes a little bit. "What's going on with you, Vi? I want to know." I smiled and, for a second, I wanted to tell her. But at the same time... I knew that I couldn't, and that I didn't. "Nothing, mom," I lied. "It's just that I have a huge project due in a few days, and I really want to work on it." Mom removed herself from my face, a half-hurt, half-I'm-so-glad-my-daughter-takes-her-schoolwork-seriously-the-doctor-said-that-was-a-sign-of-recovery expression on her face. "Oh, all right then. Just put your plate in the sink and be sure to come down before you go to bed and wish us good-night. All right?" I smiled and nodded. "Sure, mom. Whatever you say." I stood up and emptied the rest of my god-knows-what-that-used-to-be dinner into the trash can, placing the dish gingerly into the sink.
I wasn't going to be doing any homework, or project, or whatever upstairs. I just wanted to get out of an awkward dinner with mom and Kara. I mean, ever since the second time I... you know... they've just been... I dunno, different to me. Kara, not so much, but mom even looks at me different. Is it something I... You know what? I'll try not to care. And who knows, it's probably nothing. I picked up my backpack from its place at the side of the door and refastened some of the buttons that had come undone: the promo Touhou one that looks like Satori Komeiji's Third Eye tends to come off a lot, but the Uboa one has had trouble staying on lately as well. I took them both off after some trouble refastening them and noticed that their "locks" were bent. Oh well. Guess I'd have to display them somewhere else. I lugged the thirty pound satchel up the stairs to Kara and my new room, to the first door on the right. We had only been sleeping there for, like, a year or so, because I was higher "at risk" in the other room--second door on the left--because it had a balcony. I still get confused and walk into the guest room instead sometimes. This wasn't one of those times.
I plopped the bag onto the desk near the bookshelf's chair, not intending to do any real schoolwork today; after all, it was a Friday. I stood there for, what, five, ten minutes, just staring at the bag and the empty spaces left by the two favourite buttons. My gaze switched to the buttons. I put them down on the desk and sulked over to my bed. The one with the green sheets. I heard footsteps coming up the stairs, getting louder as they made their way to the door of my room. It opened and Kara presented herself. "I knew it," she said. "You don't do homework on Fridays. You save that until Sunday. Or homeroom, the day of." She walked over to me, the door being left open. It kind of bothered me. My sister sat down next to my place on the bed and put her arm around me. "Listen, I know you don't wanna talk to mom, but she's really trying to make life better for you. And I'm sorry if you don't notice that, but I sure do. All she wants is a few words out of you." I shook my head and said nothing, like a child might. "All right, I guess. If that's what you want." She stood up and sighed, walking back out the door. "Should I keep the light on, or...?" I shook my head. "Nah, turn it off. I'm kinda tired." She shrugged. "'s only seven, but okay, g'night." Kara flipped off the light switch and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her. I changed into my pajamas and went to sleep, regardless of what I told my mom.
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it'd be better off just feeling nothing at all
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"How was school today, dear?" my mom asked me, snapping me out of the daze that I had found myself in. I was melancholily staring at the amorphous lump of what was apparently "shepherd's pie"
on the plate in front of me, the hat obscuring part of my vision. "Vi?" she asked again. "Are you all right?" I blinked and looked at the adult's face. "Yeah, I'm fine, mom," I replied. "It's just that I don't get what's happening in Chemistry, is all. I was just thinking about it." The three of us were sitting in the kitchen around a small, round wooden table, my mom to my left and my sister, Kara, to my right. I looked towards her to avert mom's gaze, and she shot me that look that she gives me. That look that just screams, "You can't lie to me." And I couldn't. Do you really want to know how school was, mom? School was hell. Like always. Filled with people who only care about you for their amusement, waiting to exploit your weaknesses in any way they possibly can. that's how school was today, mom. That's how it was.I pushed the blob of food around on my plate, then looked back up. "Mom, can I be excused?" I asked her. "I would really rather you didn't, sweety," she said. "I was lucky to get these few hours off from work. We almost never see each other." She brushed a strand of milky-white hair out of my face and lifted my hat from my eyes a little bit. "What's going on with you, Vi? I want to know." I smiled and, for a second, I wanted to tell her. But at the same time... I knew that I couldn't, and that I didn't. "Nothing, mom," I lied. "It's just that I have a huge project due in a few days, and I really want to work on it." Mom removed herself from my face, a half-hurt, half-I'm-so-glad-my-daughter-takes-her-schoolwork-seriously-the-doctor-said-that-was-a-sign-of-recovery expression on her face. "Oh, all right then. Just put your plate in the sink and be sure to come down before you go to bed and wish us good-night. All right?" I smiled and nodded. "Sure, mom. Whatever you say." I stood up and emptied the rest of my god-knows-what-that-used-to-be dinner into the trash can, placing the dish gingerly into the sink.
I wasn't going to be doing any homework, or project, or whatever upstairs. I just wanted to get out of an awkward dinner with mom and Kara. I mean, ever since the second time I... you know... they've just been... I dunno, different to me. Kara, not so much, but mom even looks at me different. Is it something I... You know what? I'll try not to care. And who knows, it's probably nothing. I picked up my backpack from its place at the side of the door and refastened some of the buttons that had come undone: the promo Touhou one that looks like Satori Komeiji's Third Eye tends to come off a lot, but the Uboa one has had trouble staying on lately as well. I took them both off after some trouble refastening them and noticed that their "locks" were bent. Oh well. Guess I'd have to display them somewhere else. I lugged the thirty pound satchel up the stairs to Kara and my new room, to the first door on the right. We had only been sleeping there for, like, a year or so, because I was higher "at risk" in the other room--second door on the left--because it had a balcony. I still get confused and walk into the guest room instead sometimes. This wasn't one of those times.
I plopped the bag onto the desk near the bookshelf's chair, not intending to do any real schoolwork today; after all, it was a Friday. I stood there for, what, five, ten minutes, just staring at the bag and the empty spaces left by the two favourite buttons. My gaze switched to the buttons. I put them down on the desk and sulked over to my bed. The one with the green sheets. I heard footsteps coming up the stairs, getting louder as they made their way to the door of my room. It opened and Kara presented herself. "I knew it," she said. "You don't do homework on Fridays. You save that until Sunday. Or homeroom, the day of." She walked over to me, the door being left open. It kind of bothered me. My sister sat down next to my place on the bed and put her arm around me. "Listen, I know you don't wanna talk to mom, but she's really trying to make life better for you. And I'm sorry if you don't notice that, but I sure do. All she wants is a few words out of you." I shook my head and said nothing, like a child might. "All right, I guess. If that's what you want." She stood up and sighed, walking back out the door. "Should I keep the light on, or...?" I shook my head. "Nah, turn it off. I'm kinda tired." She shrugged. "'s only seven, but okay, g'night." Kara flipped off the light switch and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her. I changed into my pajamas and went to sleep, regardless of what I told my mom.
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it'd be better off just feeling nothing at all
