There was a mess being made and, for once, it wasn’t his doing. Of course this mess was far from being anything remotely as annoyingly innocent and easily cleaned as the thin film of waffle mix that still clung to the walls, floor and furniture of his sire’s apartment. This mess bought change, change within those around him, change in circumstance that didn‘t necessarily have to be. The shadows whispered and cooed excitedly like gossiping old women over a game of bridge. Such a display of odd emotion masked with indifference had grown old by the end of the first day, stagnant by the second and now had the putrid stench of redundant placements of blame. The topic had been one he was ready to simply sit back from while it swelled and bloated to the point of rupturing its necrotic content until a visit was paid to his sire. Her tears, though quickly wiped at, had been unexpected as well as unpleasant to see. Tears bought bad things with them.
An expressionless face turned up to the night sky catching the pale rays of moonlight. Unlike his blackened blood, the soft glow of light reflected sending shades of blues purples and silver dancing along his delicate features. As his feet moved, the shadows recorded his thoughts on the stolen journal pages hidden away in his backpack.
- Sometimes I wonder what would happen if gravity didn’ work as well as it does now. How many people would go flying off inta da night sky? Dat would be some interestin' **** ta see. Would probably hurt whenever ya got ta wherever ya were headed. Still, it would be pretty sweet and might give people somethin' more important to worry bout den dese silly t'ings called emotions. I t'ink I’m surrounded by dese gushy creatures and its becoming a bit of a pain in de ***. It ain’t so much dat dey seemed filled ta da brim wit it but dey put effort inta puttin dem out dere den pretendin dat somet'ing is beyond dem caring. Dat can’ be accurate if ya feel da need to put it out dere in da first place…right? I dunno. Ol’ Pariah here ain’t exactly fluent in dis emotion stuff. Guess dat makes me lucky.
Dey ain' all bad dough. Toga's still pretty coo' and so is Kainai. She real good at workin' wit animal fur. I'm givin it a try too. Den dair's Imp1. She just as sweet as can be. She looked out fo' me when I had dat bounty ova my head. Rabbi-momma was right when she said I could count on'a.
And Rabbi-momma. She got a heart of gold, always carin' bout other people. She ain' much like Momma Odessa but dat ain' exactly a bad t'ing.
The sound of a gun cocking broke his concentration as he rounded a corner. Those orange eyes, sunk deep within his eye socket shown bright for a moment. There wasn't any blue but there was silver.
Bang
