A/N: Coulda made this longer, but the next chapter needs to be isolated. THE PLOT has shown it’s ugly face. Without the welfare check for all of the plotbunnies it spawned, but whatever.
I’m so... so sorry for the next chapter.
Romance will happen. If you find the subtle nod towards a certain television show, I’d love to know. And it serves the same purpose as it does in the show – absolutely nothing.
***Unappreciated***
//And I don't want
to slide into apathy
And I don't want to die in captivity
But these monsters follow me around
Hunting me down, trying to wipe me out\\
-Something For Kate, “Monsters”
Edgar sidled along the street, ducking under as many awnings and ledges as he could to escape the rain that had, as Jimmy predicted, started to fall. Now that he wasn’t making pancakes for a deluded teenager who had kidnapped him, he had time to think of more pressing matters.
Why, exactly, had he materialized into being eating Chinese food? What kind of game was God playing this time? So many questions, and not enough time in the world to figure them out.
Edgar rubbed his arms and dashed to another awning, getting mildly drenched in the process. Okay, God, I’m ready to come home again, he thought to himself, Any time now.
In response, the awning ripped open and doused Edgar with the water it had been holding.
“Oh, for crying out loud,” Edgar growled, glaring up at the dark clouds in pure contempt, “Thanks, really. Just perfect.” Now that he didn’t have to care about being wet, Edgar stalked on down the street, grumbling and in a rather poor mood. Now, he was homeless and soaking wet, thanks to the heavens above-
Edgar’s inner rant was cut off prematurely as he ran smack into another person, who fell backwards with a yelp. He stared blankly through spotted glasses at the tall, pale girl with purple pigtails, who was glaring at him like he was the most wretched person on earth.
“Oh! I’m so sorry,” he suddenly spurted out, bending down and retrieving a plastic bag and a leather art portfolio, “I wasn’t looking where I was going, I’m sorry.” He offered her a hand and she took it, warily.
“That’s... okay,” she muttered, wringing out a pigtail idly before taking her bag and her portfolio from him. “I probably should have been looking where I was going, too, but I’m trying to outrun-”
“There you are!” A loud squeak accompanied the happy voice, and the pale girl groaned, sliding a hand over her face. “You ran so fast I wasn’t going to catch up and who is this? Devi,” the dark-skinned girl with wild black hair exclaimed, spinning her plaid umbrella, “Did you catch yourself a new mate?!”
“God, Tenna... No, I did not catch anything. I ran into him.” Edgar blinked as he suddenly found himself face to face with a small plastic skeleton. It squeaked obnoxiously, and then the girl named Tenna was staring him down with a rather frightening grin.
“You’re all wet!” she giggled, and Edgar raised an eyebrow.
“I am? Oh, I just now noticed,” he responded dryly, and the girl named Devi rolled her eyes. “I’m sorry for bumping into you,” he said to Devi, “But I guess I should go now.”
He moved beyond the two, and stuck his hands in his pockets. “Now I just have to find a box to go die in,” he muttered.
“A box?!” came the high-pitched voice of Tenna, and he winced, whirling around to find her almost upon him like some kind of psychotic lioness stalking a limping gazelle.
“Um.”
“That doesn’t work! Okay you come with me now, I am making noodles for all!” Tenna deftly grabbed Edgar’s wrist and dragged him back to where Devi was standing, eyebrow raised. “He was going to sleep in a box! He could have run into Bob!”
“...Who?” Edgar asked Devi helplessly as the other girl dragged him past her. She shrugged.
“Don’t ask me, she’s the crazy one.” Edgar let out a little whimper and was promptly responded by a squeak, as the three began to ascend the stairs.
Okay, really, God, Edgar thought in a plea, This is funny really but I’d like to come back now.
In response, a nondescript crack in the ceiling opened and water spilled down onto Edgar’s head.
***
“Sorry about Tenna.”
Edgar looked over at Devi as he pulled on a dry shirt from one of Tenna’s many strange archives of stuff. It was a thin old white shirt with a neon-green monkey on the front, and it was a little disturbing.
“That’s okay,” Edgar replied idly, shrugging. He felt a little awkward in the jeans Devi had lent him - they were supposed to be baggy but were almost too tight on him. I’m such a girl, he thought to himself, pulling the shirt lower over his now semi-visible pudge.
“You can sleep on the couch in my apartment,” the purple-haired girl continued, “And I think Tenna’s making food.”
“Should that worry me?” he asked, a little uneasy.
Devi shrugged noncommittally, “Probably not. If there’s one thing Tenna does, it’s make noodles.”
“And that is why I am the noodle Queen and you are just the Dutchess!” Tenna burst out of the living room, holding a large, steaming pot between two ridiculously huge, lime green oven mitts. “And here is the reason!” With that, she began to pour the abundance of noodles onto large green paper plates.
Actually, most of Tenna’s décor involved the color green or purple, and Edgar didn’t know why but it made him both very relaxed and hyper at the same time. The girl was grinning, singing some weird song.
“I always doodle with noodles, oodles and caboodles of noodles!” She dropped the empty pot behind her and then flopped into a green lawn chair, picking up her fork. “My favorite food under the moon, caboodles and googles and oodles of noodles!”
“Amen,” Devi replied, sitting on a purple stool easily. Edgar took the third place and sat in an uncomfortable purple and green striped armchair, looking from one girl to the other. They were both already eating, and so Edgar looked down briefly and picked up his fork, poking the food a little.
“Dun’ be schared!” Tenna cried through a mouth of noodles, “Eat!”
Edgar nodded quickly and took a mouthful.
They ate in almost complete silence, with only the skeleton’s occasional squeaks to entertain them. Edgar decided that the food was pretty good, and he ate it up quicker than the two girls.
“So where ch’ fr’m?” Tenna finally asked, and Edgar shrugged.
“Here. But I... lost my apartment.”
“Oh. Whatcha do?”
Edgar blinked, thoughtfully. What did he do, before he died? Other than Johnny’s basement, he really couldn’t remember anything else. He felt that it had been something... artistic, in a way. Art? No, no, he couldn’t draw to save his life. A writer? That sounded plausible, but he didn’t have a knack for words, really... It didn’t really matter; they weren’t asking for his life story in a two hundred page essay or anything, but Edgar had a mind for facts and liked to make sure they were straight.
“I wrote.”
“Wrote?” Devi asked, raising an eyebrow, “As in, past tense? Do you have anything published?”
“Um, no,” Edgar responded quickly, “No, I don’t... It was one of those ‘starving artist’ type things.”
“...Wait,” Tenna jumped in, gulping down the last of her noodles, “What’s your name again?”
“Um... Edgar Vargas?”
“That sounds familiar,” she continued, pouting in a mildly confused manner, before blinking. She pointed at him dramatically, and he leaned back into the chair, trying to make himself as small as possible. “Wait! I know you! You wrote that column in our high school paper!”
“Tenna, we didn’t have a high school paper,” Devi muttered, confused.
“Yes we did! I can’t help it if you don’t remember, but I do... The Daily Sniff, or something equally as stupid. I only remember this one column,” Tenna leaned back and grinned, “This one column that was defending the choice to create a gay and lesbian group at the school. You said something... something like ‘if something as controversial as religion has found a place at this school, then why can’t people who don’t have a choice in how they are have one too?’ I think it was less wordy than that though.”
Edgar and Devi stared at her.
“I didn’t know you could remember that much,” Devi said slowly, surprised.
“I wrote that?” Edgar muttered, raising an eyebrow, “I don’t think I remember that...”
“You also criticized the anti-gay protest the Christian group held, and said it made you ‘ashamed to be a Christian.’”
“Jesus Christ...” Edgar muttered, “I did write that.” Devi looked thoughtful, and then grinned.
“I remember that, a little – not the actual paper or anything, but all that controversy after it. You got the shit beat out of you.” The grin turned into an easy, relaxed smirk, “I remember thinking you were pretty cool for that.”
“And that one guy said that Jesus would fuck him up the ass!”
“You’re fucking kidding me,” Edgar whimpered, sinking into his seat. “I don’t remember that...”
“I don’t know if you were around. But this other kid told him that he sounded jealous of Jesus and then that kid got beat up too. Lots of beating up,” Tenna added, shrugging. “But, yeah, that’s you all right.”
Edgar groaned, “God, I must have been an idiot to write something like that.”
Devi frowned, raising an eyebrow. “What, you don’t believe that anymore?”
“Oh, no...” Edgar held up a hand, “It’s not that. It’s just... High school is one of the least open-minded places in the world, so saying something like that... I’m not surprised I don’t remember it,” Edgar muttered. He looked at Devi, suddenly very tired. “Do you think I could use that couch, now?”
“Oh, sure. But... it’s only six...?”
Edgar shrugged. “I didn’t get a good night’s sleep. A... I was up all night.”
Devi nodded, and she led him over to the next-door apartment, allowing him in. “I’ll be over at Tenna’s a while longer... Don’t steal anything. Blankets should be under the couch.”
“Okay... um, Devi.” Edgar looked at Devi cautiously. “Um, thanks. And sorry for knocking you over earlier.”
“It’s no big deal, Edgar,” the girl replied, “It’s just karma.” And Devi shut the door, putting Edgar into a soft, purplish darkness.
Unlike Tenna’s apartment, Devi’s was mostly decorated in shades of purple and black, with a little red here and there. It was instantly calming, and Edgar realized just how tired he was. His belly full of noodles and his head full of unanswered questions, Edgar moved to the couch, gathered a blanket from under it, and laid down to sleep.
***
Twisted twisted running. Running on broken legs, each movement causing them to break more and more and it was so dark. So dark and yet everything was beige. Everything was dull but he was not dull no no no-
and on the sixth day god created man
jesus should fuck you in the fucking ass
you fucking hypocrite
He was running on broken legs, running through quicksand. Some kind of song – someone was whistling and it sounded slow and sad but happy and melancholy. He could see, dimly through the light, that twisted grin and abnormally thin body, and he could see a sheep. A sheep that the grin was leading down stairs, and why couldn’t he move?
The quicksand. He struggled against it, and a huge cross fell down towards him, and he let go, because he’d rather be smothered by quicksand than have to face that. And he fell through the ground, slipping easily and unable to breathe but not suffocating. He slid and then fell out the other side, and the grin was looking at a bloody little lamb, that was chanting “just like you, just like you” over and over, growing wings and shrinking and gaining legs, and then
Johnny growled and then he crushed the bug and said, “I don’t like myself very much.”
And the man with a slice of cheese on his head agreed and he said:
“I wear the cheese. It does not wear me.”
and the cross came down through the sky and set everything on fire.
***
Edgar screamed.
He shouldn’t have, not really, but something had been... oppressive throughout the dream, seemingly weaved into the very fabric of his subconscious warning. Oppressive and frightening and left him with a foreboding sense of “This Is The Future.”
He was on the ground, tangled in the blanket, eyes wide and looking through crooked glasses at Devi, who was leaning over him.
“...okay?” Edgar only caught the last bit, but knew what she had asked, and breathed out shakily.
“Y...Yes, I’m... I’m okay.”
“Damn, what did you dream?” Devi asked, “I heard you all the way over in Tenna’s apartment.”
“I... It was probably nothing... How long was I asleep for?”
“Just a few hours.”
Notes floated up from the street, sad but firm, happy yet melancholy. Edgar paled, and tore out of the blanket, dashing to the open window and looking out.
Dark, spiky hair, long neck, long limbs... Oh, God.
“Edgar? What’s wrong?” Devi asked, but he left her standing there in the room, bursting through the door and running down hallways, down stairs, all the way down to the ground floor. He shot through the front doors and stared at Jimmy, who was walking just ahead of him.
He felt like he should scream or yell or something, but all that would come out was a hoarse exclamation, “Jimmy!”
“Huh?” The boy whirled, eyes narrowed and looking ready to fight, and then blinked, relaxing a little. “Oh. Edgar.”
“Where are you going?” Edgar gasped, already knowing the answer.
Jimmy grinned awkwardly, patting his briefcase. “To Nny, of course,” he responded, “I figured if I couldn’t win his respect with planning, I’d win it just on style.”
“But... You can’t!”
“Why not?” Jimmy asked, raising an eyebrow in distain. “You’ll see.”
“You... But you can’t just-”
“There you are! Come on, we’re going to be late!” Edgar winced and drew back as Tenna appeared in front of him, grinning obnoxiously.
“I... Tenna, I need to talk to Jimmy...”
“Can’t you two talk on the way?” she responded, still grinning, “At this rate we’ll never get to dance!”
“Dance...?” Jimmy asked, looking from Tenna to Edgar in confusion, “Is she your girlfriend or something?”
“What? No!” Edgar exclaimed. Tenna grinned.
“Of course not, silly. I am only girlfriend to one! Come on, you’re not going to just let me drag him off, are you?”
“Well, actually...”
“He’s going to need someone sane, if she’s dragging me to a nightclub.” The three looked over to see Devi, who was looking mildly annoyed and yet amused.
“Please,” Edgar rasped, a little worried towards both Jimmy and what Devi and Tenna were planning. He pulled away from Tenna and got close to Jimmy, leaning in. “I’m sure Johnny must go to clubs too. I mean, doesn’t he?”
“Well, yeah... But he usually just goes in and... well.” Edgar gulped, worried.
“Yes, but he must go in before to scope things out. If you really want to be like Johnny, you should do the same.”
“...You’re right...” Jimmy trailed off, then shrugged. “Fine, I’ll come.”
“Great! Now come on, we’re going now!”
“But don’t act like I’ll enjoy it,” he added hastily, following after Tenna, who was dragging Edgar. Devi smirked at Edgar, who flushed, and then grinned to herself.
Yes, tonight was going to be interesting.
***^^***