//------------------------------// // Chapter 2 - Figure // Story: Natural Selection // by Kickback //------------------------------// You've become a part of me You'll always be my fear I can't separate Myself from what I've done Giving up a part of me I've let myself become you Kickback's chest rose dramatically as his lungs inhaled a sharp intake of air. His body bolted up, his eyes were impossibly wide, his pupils shrunk to the size of pin-points. He hacked and coughed, wheezing for breath as he hunched over on a...what was he sitting on? He heard an ear-shattering scream. When he shot up at the noise, he only just caught sight of a woman in a lab-coat before he found himself rolling off the side of the...table? Kickback hit the white-tiled floor with a dull thump, he groaned and let out another cough, he stared at the splatter of red that splashed onto the porcelain ground and gritted his teeth, tasting an odd copper tinge around his mouth. He made to get to his feet but hacked as he felt a searing pain surging through his body, as if every individual cell that made up his biological structure was slowly burning him to death. He heard a crash. Straining his neck to turn, he forced his eyes look at what caused the noise. There was the woman again, scattered around her were a collection of surgical tools; syringes, scalpels, some of it Kickback didn't even recognise. He didn't pay attention to that though, all he saw was the look on the woman's face. Never in his life had he seen anyone look so scared. She stared at him as if he were some demon that had crawled from the darkest pit of Hell and even that didn't justify it. Her breath was ragged and short, Kickback was even certain he could hear her heartbeat quaking in her shallowly rising and falling chest. For a moment, one solitary moment, he could swear that he saw it beating through her breast. He presumed she was a doctor of some kind. Her petrified stare from behind the thin glasses that rest on her nose never tore away from Kickback's eye. Her jaw jittered uncontrollably, as if she was trying to form words. All of this, of course, perplexed Kickback. Never had he been so confused. Where was he? Why was he here? How was he here? Why couldn't he remember anything? This woman knew something. He was sure of it. With whatever strength he had, he tried to work his jaw, tried to roll his tongue into speech but nothing coherent came of it. He saw her eyes dart towards the door and he panicked. She couldn't leave, she needed to help him. He couldn't let her leave, he needed answers. The woman couldn't be able to escape. He needed to speak, fast. He needed to get answers. He hated not knowing. By some miracle, Kickback's senses came to him in a blinding flash and he managed to say the first thing that came to mind and in a shaky, deep voice, he spoke. "W-where...am I?" As if on cue, just as the words left his lips, she bolted upright and dashed for the door. Scrambling as she got to her feet and knocking the surgical supplies about the porcelain floor. Kickback watched as she barged through the exit, the dual wooden doors swinging wildly as ran out into the hall. "W-w...wait." He tried to yell, to scream, to plead for help but he just couldn't muster it. Whatever had brought him here, whatever that happened that caused him to wind up here bloody well sure managed to take it out of him. If only he could remember. He needed to remember. He had to find Slip Stream. Where was she? His confusion soon turned into frustration. How could that doctor just leave him here? He obviously needed help. What had scared her so much to just freak out like that? Kickback struggled to stand up, every muscle of his body burning with protest. Each time his arm or leg so much as twitched, a rippling burn shot through his system. His frustration wasn't long to turn into a angry determination. Pain be damned. Through the most strenuous act he had ever been experienced, Kickback willed himself to his knees. His hands balled into fists on the clean, white floor as he hunched over on all fours, panting and coughing in agony. What was happening to him? Confusion be damned. He needed answers, that's all that mattered now. He needed to get out of here and find her. Find that doctor...then find Slip. Steadily, the burning seemed to cool. No, that wasn't the word. Kickback began to feel...used to the burn. As if it were becoming part of him. Slowly, he began to rise to his feet. The joints of his legs ached but he pushed through. Kickback felt significantly heavier than he had ever recalled and yet despite that, as each muscle locked into place, control over his body became ever-easier. He let out a deep, ragged breath as he stood to his full height and clutched his side. There was a slight stinging there but it wasn't unbearable. He also felt a...he couldn't necessarily describe it. At first, he wanted to simply say that it's simply an unfortunate air-trap, he used to get them all the time but that just wasn't it. This feeling was new. He didn't like new. New meant unknown. Unknown meant potential danger. He needed to know. He hated not knowing. Kickback's eyes scanned the around the room before setting firmly on the exit. His gaze narrowed, his hand clenched into a fist. Kickback staggered limply towards the set of white doors. His dazed mind barely noticed what the room was as he barged through the exit. Kickback fell into a hall and collapsed on the adjacent wall. He didn't pay much attention to anything, all he could make out were two long white walls and a room at the end of it. Coughing involuntarily, he staggered along the porcelain hall, desperately hoping that the exit would be in front of him. Or rather, that's what he used to think...before he heard a noise behind him. Slowly, Kickback turned to see a door at the other end of the hall loudly shut in on itself, accompanied by the fleeting sound of tapping heels on the ground. There. Kickback's eyes darkened as he swivelled his body and forced his legs to carry him. His shoulder crashed into the door and the skin that was left exposed by his clothes was assaulted by the chilling breeze of the cool night air. His body shivered against the icy air. The cold was a nice contrast to the boiling heat inside of him but still, cold was cold. The sky was dark, the sparkling flickers in the inky void were all but invisible, veiled by the blinding lights of city. A single lamp overhead illuminated the parking lot. Kickback looked up to see the same doctor dashing for, what he assumed, was her car. Holding a hand hard to his side, Kickback staggered towards her as fast as he could manage. He coughed, she turned her head and he saw that look again, she didn't scream but instead just ran faster. In any other situation, he would've found it slightly humorous to watch trip on her heels and crash into the hard asphalt. He noticed she as looking for something, hastily scraping her fingers around the ground for something. He caught up with her but before he was within arms reach, she looked up and forgot all about everything except running away. As she bolted up and took off running again, slowly as to avoid tripping again, Kickback felt a piercing, stabbing pain under his ribcage. He fell to his knees and his breathing became more ragged. It was because of this that his eyes fell to the floor and he spotted something, a shining reflection of glass in the dark pavement. Dr. Scalpel had one thing on her mind; escape. There was nothing that could stop her, nothing that....thing could say or do to make her do otherwise. She needed to believe that. She needed to believe she could get away instead of thinking thoughts of that freaking zombie catching up with and doing who knows to her! She was a mortitian, she worked with dead bodies that don't move and don't talk not this. Definitely not this. This was beyond her. She needed help, she needed to tell someone, someone that would help her. Dr. Scalpel reached her car, she made a quick silent prayer to whatever deity was smiling down at her, she could barely see a thing without her glasses but what was more important? Life or sight. She chose the obvious one instead of being able to see while that undead freak tore her apart. A panicked smile graced her features, she was going to get away! She went to unlock the car door...then stopped. She quaked in utter horror. Her car keys. They weren't on her. In fact, she knew where they were. They were on her desk...in her purse...inside... She heard deep, husky breathing behind her and a pair of sneakers tapping along the floor. This was it. This was how she'd die. Torn apart and eaten by a zombie high-school student in the parking lot of her own morgue. Maybe...maybe it won't be so bad. Surely, if he leaves enough of her, she'll become zombie too and if she still retains the power of speech like he does then maybe she can go to everyone she hated and eat while she rubbed their noses in it, both figuratively and literally. After all, she did like dead bodies so why not just let herself become one? This train of ironic suicidal thoughts was morbid, even for her but she came to accept her fate with whatever optimism she could muster. Slowly, she turned around and caught his eye. She jumped back, pressing her body as close to the car as possible. She stared into his face for what seemed like an eternity, white and black tendrils of hair draped across his features, she could barely make the colour of the piercing eyes that stared into her soul. Hell, to her, really he was only a dark red and grey blob. He raised an arm steadily, as if it took all of his strength to do so and reached it towards her. She closed her eyes and braced for the end...but it never came. She never felt a hand on her, never felt his sinking teeth digging into her. She opened up her eyes and found him, just standing in the same spot as he was and holding something towards her. She followed his arm up and to her bewilderment, her hazy eyes saw a simple pair of glasses, just hanging there in his fingers. They were hers, the ones that she had dropped. She gave him an extremely confused look, all he did was gesture to his hand. She took the hint and went to grab the pair of lenses. Dr Scalpel let them rest of her nose and took in the sight of...whatever was standing in front of her. Just a kid. Barely out of his teens and standing before her, clutching his side and looking at her with a gaze that screamed of pleading and his breathing was heavy but short. She lingered along his eyes for a brief second, something seemed...off to her about them. She chuckled in her head, yeah, his eyes were the most off thing about everything that was happening. Finally, he spoke. "Why...why did you run?" She tried to find her voice, she really did but everything she attempted to say came out in unintelligible nonsense. She wanted to slap herself, she was acting like a child. She was scared, obviously but that didn't mean she couldn't keep a rational mind. Besides, she was being spoken to and it was rude not to respond. Scalpel liked think of herself as mannerly and it wasn't lie she hadn't talked to a dead body before. She was about to will herself into speech but was cut off by the...or what she thought was the dead body in question. "Please...help me." His voice was low and oddly husky. He sounded so desperate, almost pathetically so to Dr Scalpel. She needed answers aswell, the deceased don't just get up and start asking for help. At least, not in her career. "What are you?" He raised a hand and planted it firmly against his forehead. "Can't...remember." He took in a deep breath as he pulled his palm away from his face and stared down at his hand. "Where is Slip...?" The doctor's brow furrowed. "Who?" "My sister...where is she?" "Just how much do you remember? Can you tell me what your name is?" He stretched his back and visibly winced. "K-kickback...where is Slip Stream?" Scalpel never relaxed as she slowly pried herself away from the cold metal of the car. "Well, my name's Scalpel. Do you remember anything else?" "I...I left home and...Gentek and...Dr. Sharp Shot but...that's it." "I see." Scalpel hadn't a clue who he was talking but she did recognise that name. Typical oscorp lab facility on the other side of the city. She had been inside the once and that was enough, everyone one of those so called geneticists gave her more creepy feelings than an all night creepypasta binge. "Please, tell me...where is my sister? Is she safe?" That's it, no more being a stupid kid. This...whatever it is, needs help. Scalpel was going to get to the bottom of this, she was going to help him. In turn, maybe he'd help her, voluntarily or not. Scalpel's mind flashed an image of her on a stage or news show. Just think about, she had discovered a literal walking, talking zombie. Oh, she was going to milk this but first thing's first. "C'mon, Kickback. Let's find out just what's happening here." Scalpel walked past him, gesturing for him to follow her. He stood there, rigid when she started to walk but she was sure he would follow her. He wanted her help and now he was going to get it. She only made it a few steps before he spoke again. "No." She stopped. Scalpel looked back, he hadn't moved, he hadn't even turned to look at her. "What?" "No." This was not what she expected. "What do you mean? I agreed to help you and-" He turned around to face her slowly. She could see a burning defiance in his shining eyes by the time their gazes locked. "You're ...taking me to her." Scalpel could only stare at him as he walked towards her. Each step he took looked to be close to knocking him down and by the time he stopped, his face was barely a forearm's length away from her own. Kickback took in a deep breath as he raised his arm to her shoulder and snapped his eyes back up to her. She caught a brief glimpse of his teeth barring in the dark of the night before she felt a harsh grip around where her arm connected to her body. The strength in his hold made her wince and she immediately re-evaluated her choices here. He was evident that Kickback wasn't as weak as it might have appeared. The doctor didn't answer right away, much to Kickback's annoyance. He wanted her help, sure but not in the way she might have thought. All he wanted was to find Slip. He made a promise to her and a big brothers own up to their promises...right? He added more pressure in his grasp on her, clasping at her coat. He felt so feeble in his state but the visible wince on her face said something else to him. Now, only if he could form words without that burning constantly making him stop for breath. "Please...I said...I'd help her with her homework." He expected her to decline, to insist on her way. Kickback didn't feel like he had to strength to refuse her if she did let alone abandon her altogether and make it on his own. By some miracle, whatever amnesia inducing event he had gone through to wind up like this left him little memory of who he was. Of course, that only included what his name was, where he lived and...a surprising amount about his sister. Though, anything further than last month is lost on him. Kickback figured he'd take what he could get. There'd be time to figure this all out. Once he found her. Scalpel's face contorted in thought. Kickback couldn't fathom what was going on inside of it. It was then that he noticed that he had planted all his trust in a stranger, a stranger that was obviously afraid of him and judging by what he could gather, was about to cut him up on a surgical table before he...supposedly 'came back from the dead'. He hoped she would say yes. Please say yes! "Alright." Kickback's face softened into a look of hopeful confusion as his grip loosened. His hand fell from her shoulder, much to the doctor's evident pleasure. She gave it a solid roll, the expression among his features refused to leave him. "Alright?" "I'll take you home. Do you remember where it is?" Scalpel's voice was level, void of any expression Kickback could detect. He nodded. "Then get in. I'll drive. You navigate." The mortitian walked past Kickback to the driver's door of the car. He watched her for a short moment before looking down at the handle to the back seat. He figured it appropriate and thought walking all the way around to the other side was, sadly, pointless. The door opened with a sold click, the light automatically shone brightly from the ceiling of the car as he opened it. Barely giving it a second thought, Kickback climbed inside and sat resolutely in the seat. He heard Scalpel's door slam before he even saw her get in. She reached behind and craned her neck to look at him. "You got that?" Kickback took another raspy breath and looked over to his opened door. "Y-yeah." He reached over and tugged it shut. He winced at the noise it made, surely he hadn't pulled that hard on it... Scalpel never stopped shouting in her head at herself as she pulled out of the lot and onto the road. There goes everything she planned. At first, she thought just refusing him and if necessary, over-powering the kid would suffice but the more she thought on it, the less that seemed rational. He had already demonstrated how fast he was recovering and there was no telling what a walking dead man with a temper would do if it didn't get it's way. "Do you have a map?" "It's in the pouch in front of you." The doctor listened to the sound of rustling paper and plastic sheeting as she kept her gaze firmly on the road. What had she gotten herself into? Scalpel swore that if the government suddenly came to her door about all of this, she was going to slap the little undead bugger in her car so hard that not even those blasted tendrils or whatever would fix it. She shivered. That image will never leave her mind. Standing over him and watching as the incision she made swarms with a mass of red and black, healing the wound. The prospect was fascinating on a scientific level but Scalpel had never seen anything more unnerving. "What street are on?" "Discovery drive." "Turn left here." Her fingers tapped against the wheel. She was having a sick day tomorrow, by God, was she ever. The thought of just leaving the kid on his had crossed her mind, in fact, she could do that now, just pull over and tell him to get out. Consequences be damned. Of course, the fear of him snapping and lashing out at her was still there, Scalpel couldn't deny that whatever concious she had could never let something like him go unaided like that. The doctor briefly imagined herself in his place. Waking up in a morgue without any memory. Didn't sound like a good time. Like it or not, she was the only one that could've helped him. She let out a light chuckle. Never did she think to call the police, surely they'd handle this situation much better than she ever could. Ahhh, well. Too late for that now. "Head straight up here." She nodded but this silence was getting old to her. "So, how old are you, kid?" "Can't remember." "Oh..well, I'm twenty-nine." That didn't work. "What kind of music do you like? Jazz? Rock?" "I can't remember." Alright, now this was getting old. "I'm partial to a bit of pop, to be honest." "That so?" Finally, a response. "Mhmm." She hummed resolutely. Kickback didn't press the subject further, much to the doctor's chagrin. Surely there was something that could make the drive less soul-crushing. It was then that she had an idea and even though it was a long-shot, it was worth a try. "Got anyone particularly special in your life, kid?" Scalpel's eyes scanned up to the rear-view mirror hanging above the dashboard. She regretted asking that as she caught his bewildered stare before he winced. Kickback brought a hand to his head and clutched at his contrasting hair as his teeth clenched tightly together. Whatever that reaction was, it was lost on her. "Are you okay?" He ignored her last question and after regaining his composure, he spoke up. "Yeah...what do you mean?" Scalpel rolled her eyes. "You know, like a girlfriend." Kickback cast a look to the mat at his feet. She didn't notice anything specifically off about his expression. If anything, he just seemed contemplative. "I don't think so." At least it was a different response. Scalpel decided to try a more rational topic, she figured since it was only thing he could think of, she'd manage a bit more than small talk out of it. "What's she like?" "Who?" "Your sister." Kickback's body tensed up for a moment before relaxing in his seat. He stared at Scalpel for a long moment, something that made the doctor feel uneasy behind the wheel. "Why?" "Just trying to make conversation. Who knows? Start talking and maybe you'll remember something else." Kickback's head went limp to the side and he stared, unblinking out the window into the night sky. "She's...not like me." Scalpel remained silent, waiting for him to continue. "She's childish but she's a good girl...I liked to think she looks up to me but...I'm not always sure." For the first time ever, the doctor saw the briefest reflection of a smile spread across his mouth. "Heh, probably gets it from Vinyl." A new name, Scalpel grinned. Progression. The mortitian gave a resolute glance to the road, seeing that it was clear before she turned in her seat to face him. "Who?" She asked, a triumphant smile on her face. Kickback's eyes widened, he never looked at her, his gaze was locked outside. Right when she thought he would turn to her, he screamed. "Look out!" Scalpel only just saw the blinding flashes of a pair of headlights blaring down from the intersecting road on the right side of the car. It didn't brake at the compulsory stop and instead drove straight for the metal shell of the vehicle. Scalpel didn't have time to steer the car away or even place her other hand on the wheel, the last thing she saw was the kid reach out towards her from his seat, obviously in panic and then the flying shards of glass exploding from the windows as the car crashed into her own. Dr. Scalpel's world went black. Cheese Sandwich let a goofy grin slap itself between the growing hairs on his face. "I'm sure my critics will say it's a grotesque display. Well, they can bite me, baby! I perform this way!" He bobbed his head, letting the brown hedge of an afro growing from his scalp to swing wildly in the air as he sang along to the music blaring through the colourful walls of his room. The socially normal part of his brain thought it pretentious to sit alone and listen to your own singing voice blasting from a stereo speaker but then again, Cheese wasn't particularly normal. What else was he going to do with a microphone and some high-tech recording equipment? He laid down on his stomach, his eyes glued to the laptop screen while his nimble fingers stabbed relentlessly into the keys as he kicked his legs into the pillows at the head of the bed along with the beat. Cheese Sandwich was one for more direct interaction with his friends but he couldn't deny that he as well had gotten sucked into some of the various social networking sites on the internet. It wasn't bad and more often than not, was rather fun. Cheese cast a glance towards his ALF alarm clock and recoiled a bit at the what it read. Well, it wasn't like it mattered, it was a Friday night after all. As he turned back to the monitor, it made an audible blinking noise and his beam stretched when he saw the small window that popped up on the screen. In the bright blue bar above the box read the name in plain white letters; "Pinkamena Diane Pie". Right beneath the name was a simple but sweet message. Hiya! Cheese hummed to the music as he typed. Hey! - Are you listening to yaself? ...No - - Cuz I am!! Me too! - - Hehe Cheese was about to start typing again but was cut off by another beep. To the left of Pinkie's inbox was another window but this one was different. He could see one name, while the others were reduced to mere tallies in the form of the phrase "and 2 others". The name he saw was one he new quite well, it belong to the sister of his friend, Kickback. Below the bar was the somewhat worrying message that read; Has anyone seen him? Pinkie's window caught his attention with that familiar beeping sound. - So... Cheese felt kind of bad about it but he had to put Pinkie on hold, this looked like it was going to take his full attention. Hang 10 Pinks I got another call comin in - The small arrow on the screen floated over to the name as Cheese's finger brushed along the pad beneath the keyboard of the laptop. "Slip Stream", it read and with a resolute click, above it in a tiny black box read the names; "Trixie Lulamoon" and "Vinyl Scratch". Neither of which had replied yet. Cheese quickly typed in his response. Who? - - Kickback Cheese rubbed his eyes and looked back at the screen in disbelief. Before he could write anything, Vinyl beat him to it. He's still missing?! Yeah! It's almost been 2 days! He heard the same distinctive beep come from Pinkie's inbox and shrugged it off as a just an "alright". I swear Im gonna beat his sorry ass the next time I see him! C'mon guys this is Kick' we're talkin about he'll turn up Cheese smiled to himself. He always thought a positive outlook was best to have in any situation. He pushed the mouse back toward Pinkie's window but when he opened it up, he felt disappointed to see the hastily typed I gotta go. Bye! sitting in the window and the lack of a green dot next to her name indicating she was no longer online. He wanted to be positive...but he suddenly found it harder than usual. The sound of whistling steam was a maddening outro of the clustered symphony of shattering glass, screeching rubber and deforming steel. There were no footsteps, no worried denizens come to find the crash. No people, no witnesses, no one to help. In the darkness, a figure stirred from the chaos. Clad in grey, he lay on his face amongst the gravel and reflective shards. A groan escapes his throat as he crawls to his knees, the jagged remains of what used to be windows tearing at his flesh and clothes. Black and white threads dangle in front of his eyes as he stares at his bloodied hands supporting him from the dark pavement of the road. He hastily tried to push searing pain from his wounds to the back of his mind. He wasn't the only one in the crash. "S-scalpel..." Kickback's head slowly turned to his right. Nothing but an empty road lay ahead, the path of which they had come through. He tensed his muscles in an effort to move and barred his teeth as he pushed himself up. His eyes drifted to his right and shrunk in horror at what he saw. A stabbing pain shot through his leg as he pulled his body up to stand on his feet. He looked down to find a sickeningly large piece of glass lodged in his thigh. Barely a thought ran through his head before he reached out a hand to take it but the end. He closed his eyes and pulled. Kickback let out a muffled cry of pain as the jagged edge was dislodged from his muscle. He stared at the shard and almost threw up. The piece was unnervingly large and dotted with red liquid. There wasn't necessarily alot of blood, something that he briefly found quite odd, surely he had severed an artery but this was hardly the time. Kickback rushed over to her, throwing the glass in a discarded, broken mess on the ground. "Doctor." There she was. Her body lay amongst the destroyed ruins of the crash, just he did. However, the light in her eyes that normally shone through her glasses was nowhere to be found. Her head hung limply to the side, as if her gaze had been locked on where he had landed. Her coat was torn and ragged. Red gashes of torn flesh strewn across her body, more notably on her head and much to his sorrow, her neck. He didn't even bother to check her pulse, not that he quite knew how to but it didn't matter. Blood pooled underneath her from her wounds. Somewhere, in the most rational part of his mind, he already new she was dead. Even before he found her like this. Kickback thought it was good to try and be hopeful. Evidently, that doesn't count for much. For a good while, he just stood over her, staring, not really feeling anything. It wasn't like they were friends, even despite how much she was trying to be friendly. He supposed he should feel sad for her, after all, she was still a human being that had a right to life. Yet, even still, he didn't know how to feel. If he was honest, he was just tired but he didn't like how that sounded. Kickback searched through what was left of his memory banks and found nothing suitable to do or say or even feel. Was apathy all he offer to the dead woman? He shrugged his shoulders slight and crouched down over her. He found her glasses not far away from her corpse and reached for them. He gave the woman one more mournful look and gently closed her eyelids over her eyes before placing her glasses in the breast pocket of her coat. He supposed this was deemed respectful to the dead but he couldn't help but feel hollow for some reason. Kickback looked down the road they were driving on. It wasn't far now. He could make it on foot. He didn't even check the other car to see if the other driver was alive. He didn't care. Kickback's walk was more of a limp but he didn't care. His wounds hurt like Hell but he didn't care. He was almost there, nothing else mattered but for him to get there. In his mindset, he didn't even noticed the swarm of crimson and ebony slowly coating the bloodied gashes in his flesh and torn rips in his clothes. It wasn't long before his stilted limp turned into a determined hurried walk and the tears in his jacket and jeans were all but washed away as if simply sewn back together. It was by the time his wounds had healed that he stopped. Something wasn't right. He gave himself a once over and recoiled a bit at what he saw. It was as if the crash had never happened. A sound pierced his eardrums. It was like a...wet swirling noise. His eyes drifted to his hand and he almost screamed. The bloodied rips in his palm were slowly closing in as a swarm of what he could only describe as tendrils lapped furiously at his flesh as if they were working tirelessly to heal him. He wanted to swat it away, to shout at it, to make it go and never come back but he was stunned in shock and confusion. What was this? He didn't get very long to study it as it didn't last very long and soon there was nothing, the tendrils seeped back into his body and disappeared into his form. Kickback stared down at his hand, turning it over and working his fingers. "What the Hell is happening to me?" Kickback looked up and nearly dropped to his knees at the sight. It was the house, just around the corner. There it was, he had made it. He had reached her, finally. Slip Stream let out a groan of annoyance. No one had seen him since last night. Where was he? She cursed under her breath as she discarded her phone to the side. He'll turn up. She hoped. Slip managed to shrug it off for now and grabbed the remote resting on the armrest of the couch. It was just her home...again, so she was bored, understandably. Unlike her runaway brother, she didn't partake in being a loner so much. Slip enjoyed the company of others and it was because of this fact that she felt embarrassed and kind of lonely that she was home all by herself. It was too late to invite anyone over and even if she did, who would she? Vinyl, maybe? Slip let out a brief chuckle at that. Hell, if she did, that head-bobbin' maniac would probably even do just that. Though, she knew that she wouldn't stick around very long unless her brother was home and if he was, it was a chore to get rid of her. Slip found it ironic. She was socialite but all of her friends liked Kick' more...though, she supposed she could forgive that. After all, they were his friends first. That's not to say he was particularly popular, there's no way she'd compliment him that much. Not a whole lot of students at school knew him well at all. They knew her, she made it a forefront objective to be widely known. She supposed that was kind of shallow and she was more or less attention-seeking but what was the harm in having a good reputation in high school? Ugh. She could think about school some other time. Long weekends aren't made for thinking about-No, no, no. None of that. TV. That's what she needed. Some good old fashion brain-rotting material to make the night complete. Besides, this was the final season of her show, she needed to pay attention. She wish she hadn't. "Dan, No! C'mon, Nathan! Save your fuckin' father, damnit!" Slip jumped up and down in her seat, flailing her arms excitably like a fanboy who just found out that Attack on Titan season two will come out early. Her hands cupped over her mouth as the gripping tension of the old drama series hooked her in like a new, shiny fishing rod. Her screeching chorus rivalled that of those old opera singers you'd see in...well, opera houses, you know the ones! She didn't even hear the knocking at the door over her cries of excitement. The next set was enough to grab her attention though. Now who the Hell could that be? Slip turned back to the screen briefly and sagged a bit to find it going to commercial. At least she won't miss anything. She grunted as she stood up from the couch and lazily walked over to the door. It was at times like these, you know, the times when it's half past eleven and then there's someone at your door, that Slip dearly wished that they had a peep-hole. So, with the current lack of one, she opted for the next best thing. "Who is it?" She called out. For a moment, all she heard a heavy sigh of...relief? The next thing she heard shocked her. "Slip." That was all she needed. She almost broke off the knob as she swung the door open and standing there, out in the cold night, was her brother. He just stood there, leaning against the wall as a tired smile etched across his face. There was something different about him, she couldn't place what but that could wait. She didn't smile back, in fact, she made it a point to turn her dumbfounded look into one of pure anger. "And just where the fuck have you be-" Oh, wait...he was hugging her. Kickback dashed towards her and wrapped his arms around her body in an almost bone-crushingly desperate embrace. Slip Stream was too confused to return it and instead just turned her head as much as she could, all she saw was the chalk and charcoal hues of his hair draping from his head. All she could feel was how tight his grip was on her and how weirdly warm he was. What had gotten into him? "Kick-" "I found you."