The Ark (Not active, pm for rps)

[Kallistiae]

Cain had been all up and down this town for a month now. She knew every nook and cranny, every back alley. She knew every drug dealer on every dark street, every washed out looking woman on every squallid corner.
She knew which restaurants would let her eat the scraps off the plates at closing, which bars would give her the left over hot wings, which clubs would throw half empty Bud Lights at her if they found her digging through the dumpsters.
She knew what shortcuts to take to avoid the cops, which roads to dart into when she needed the cops, and which abandon buildings didnt have meth labs in them.
She knew this town, the same as she knew every other town she wandered into. If you didnt learn the towns, you got in trouble.
Cornered by a gang, or some hopped up drug addict. Nabbed by a creeper offering candy out of the back of his unmarked white van.
You had to know, really know, the town you were in.

So while other people calmly walked by this beached whale of a ship with only a momentary pause or a small laugh at the strangeness of it - each of them convincing themselves that they'd only forgotton about the 'construction', or had been too preoocupied to notice it - Cain was not fooled.
The little girl stood out on the sidewalk, glaring at the well-polished wooden surface of the bar...building...boats hull, as if its mere existence was an insult.
Who did these people think they were, parking a ********' boat out here like that was a thing people could do?

She was a small thing, looking maybe 12 years old at best, with the dirty face and grubby hands of child that wasnt well taken care of. Poor nutrition and poorer breeding had left her with an almost painfully thin frame - at 12 years old she had virtually no curves to speak of, and it was obvious she never would. Flat chested and practically hippless, she would have looked like a boy even if she'd worn a dress. As it was, she obviously went out of her way to deny her gender as much as possible. Her hair was cut boy-short and ragged, spiked up in a faux-hawk and dyed a bright, cookie monster blue. The blue was a little faded now, a product of going to long in the elements without a touchup, and if you looked closely you might see a hint of blonde in the roots.
Her clothing consisted of a pair of mens baggy jeans, ragged and torn, and poorly patched in places, they sagged without a belt to hold them up, revealing the elastic waistband of a pair of mens boxers beneath; the lose folds of a black wife beater hid the ever so slight curve of her chest from view, completing the illusion.
Other than a slight roudness to her cheeks, the feminine curve of her jaw line, she looked like a boy. She talked like a boy.
She cursed like a...well, she cursed like a man.

"What the ******** this then?" the child demanded of no one in particular.
Hands fisted on her hips as she continued to glare at the ship for a moment longer, before heavy combat boots stomped through the grass and up to the front door.
She yanked it open, a scowl set on her small face, apparently intent on giving the owners of this hulking boat a good 'talking-to'; luckily for everyone, her tirade was stopped before it started, brought to a sudden, screeching halt by the scent of something delicious wafting through the air.
Her stomach growled loudly, and grey eyes cast about her, looking for the source of the smell.
The little girl followed her nose and wound up at the bar, peering over the gleaming bar counter to stare at the pie just on the other side, cooling and tossing tantalizing scents her way.
The girls mouth watered, and she threw a glance at those around the bar, weighting her chances of being able to duck behind the bar and steal a pie, without them catching her.

[Medicinal Dreams]

(I'll just roleplay with you Kallistiae, nobody's on right now and I haven't really engaged in any serious interactions with anyone. If you want, you can check out my last couple of posts just to get a glimpse of my character.)

The young man, now noticing that no one was about to answer his question turned to the young girl that came and sat at the bar. He noted her faux-hawk similar to his and noticed her masculine-type lanky body frame. This child though was different, she reminded him of himself when he was her age. He lit a cigarette and crossed a leg over his other leg. After taking a short puff on the death stick he called over to the girl. "Hey kid, you look lost." Remembering the hospitality shown to him earlier by the employee, he slid the pie down the bartop to the girl and took another drag off of his cigarette. "I know that look in your eyes, I used to have it in mine too." The young man's eyes gleamed in the light and the shadows of the room danced along his pale skin. "Where's your parents kid? You a runaway?"

[Kallistiae]

(( Score. ^^ I backread the last page or so already, but I do have to go here for a little bit. Hopefully just an hour or so, Fourth of July crap down at my moms, shouldnt take me too long. ))

Cains eyes, more gray than blue, narrowed as the pie slid down in her direction, obviously still warm. The scent of cinnamon and apples floated on the steam and made her mouth water even more; she fought the desire to leap instantly on the food. Instead, she stared between the pie and the man with blatant suspicion, scooting forward slightly to grab the plate and pull it to her chest before scooting away again, a safe distance from the others gathered at the counter.
She sniffed at the treat, biting back a groan of appreciation for how good it smelled.
s**t, when was the last time she'd had pie? When was the last time she'd had anything that wasnt at least 2 hours cold or dug out of a dumpster?
People just dont give away food like this.

Sharp eyes looked back in the mans direction, searching his face for any hint of a trick, any clue that he wanted something in return for the 'gift'.
...well, if he wanted something from her, he damn well wasnt getting it.
Dirty fingers dipped into the pie, scooping up fingerfulls of it and shoveling them into her mouth gracelessly.
"Nunnayer damn business." she answered smartly, eyes still narrowed suspiciously in his direction.
She couldnt hold the face for long though.
Grey eyes closed in relish at the sharp cinnamon spice and the sweet tang of apple.
She was right.
It tasted as good as it smelled.
The little girl practically melted where she stood, finally deigning to clamber onto a bar stool to eat.

It took her a long moment - she was halfway through the pie before she looked up again - but she finally stopped eating long enough to mutter a grudging, distrustful "thanks" to the man that had given her his desert.

[Medicinal Dreams]

As he gazed on watching the girl his vision blurred and he saw her now as himself back in his past sitting at a chair with his mother as his father burst in yelling at the top of his lungs at the two of them before ripping the mother from the chair and pinning her against a nearby wall.

The young man shook his head and smiled and sighed softly. "Ok, whatever you say then." A smile flickered across his lips and his eyes examined her every move. Obviously this child was a castaway, quite unfortunate really. Despite her rude remark he continued to beam happily at her as he smoked and as she gorged herself with the pie. The young man rubbed his arm gently where he had pricked himself earlier with the needle and nodded when she had finally finished and thanked him ungraciously. "Don't thank me sweetie, it's these fine people here who have shone you this hospitality. He rose from his seat and walked over to the girl after putting his cigarette away in an ashtray and sat down beside the girl. His body tinged with the smell of tobacco and other foreign scents. "So tell me....why are you lost? I know you are, I was just like you as a child. Nowhere to go, nowhere to hide." He looked at her arms and her face, beautiful nonetheless for a child, so full of youth and innocence easy to be broken. The bleeding had now stopped on his lip and it had scabbed. "Say, do you like rock and roll?" He reached behind him and withdrew a red and white Fender electric guitar.

[Kallistiae]

She ignored the beaming smile he shot her through the cigarette smoke, assuming that he was drunk, or high, or both in order to be producing a smile that large. Instead of alarming her, as it probably would most unaccompanied 12 year old little girls, it seemed to put her somewhat at ease. She was used to druggies and drunks, and if he was high it would explain why he was so easily giving away food. Stoners seemed to come in two varieties, when it came to food. Violent hoarders or bizzarely generous.
Maybe this guy just fell into that last category.
But her thin shoulders tensed under the wifebeater as he stood up and scooted closer to her, and she grimaced through the pie filling smeared on her already dirty face when he called her 'sweetie'.
If she'd been bigger, she might have punched him.
As it was, she settled for looking very small and very...curmudgeonly.


She watched him out of the corner of her eye as she finished her 'dinner' and proceeded to lick the sweet, sticky remainder of the treat off her fingers and face. She watched him just as sharply as he had watched her, grey eyes tracking every movement with the wide eyed, blatant stare of a skittish animal that has not yet decided if it should flee or not.
Cain was young - and she looked even younger - but she was sharp. Living on your own will do that to you.
She saw the glazed look run across his eyes, the way his pupils dialated like he was suddenly looking at something far in the distance, well over her head.
She saw him rum absently at his arm and her eyes narrowed in on the bend of his elbow, finding the track-marks the needle had left behind with practiced ease.
So she had been right, after all. Probably Heroin.
"Im not lost." she told him with a scowl. That seemed to be the only expression she could make - varying degrees of frowns. "And I have plenty of places to go. I can go anywhere. That doesnt sound lost to me."

She narrowed her eyes at him as she licked the last of the pie from her fingers, still trying to figure him out.
He talked like a hippie, the new age breed that had missed Woodstock by at least a generation. But the way his eyes traced over the curves of her face and the thin swell of her arms gave her the creeps.
She wasnt so young that she didnt understand the certain looks men gave women, and she had been on the street enough to be suspicious of anyone that looked at her too long. Too many cold nights huddled on doorsteps, out of the wind, where men drive by in heated vans, tossing out tempting offers of a warm meal and a blanket, if she'll just get in with them...
There were reasons she was so suspicious.

Without thinking about it, she scooted as far away from him as her seat would allow her to, turning her body to watch as he pulled a guitar out from behind his back.
"...no." she lied, suspicions still laced in every word.
She did like rock and roll. What kid her age didnt like rock music?
And Cain hung around the back door of bars enough to have an appreciation for live music.
Not that she'd ever admit that to this stranger.

[Medicinal Dreams]

The man grinned as the girl backed away but figured as much for he himself was rather skiddish and hostile at times. He pulled a pick from out of one of his pockets and strummed the strings of the guitar a number of times as he plucked each string and tuned them accordingly. He then went and unwound the cord from behind of the amp and inserted it into a nearby outlet. The amp appeared to be around the range of one hundred to one hundred and twenty watts. He removed a small gray metal rectangle from the guitar's case and inserted a cord in between it, the guitar and the amp. The rectangular object was in fact a fuzz pedal which would aid the "fuzz" of the amplified sound that would project from the amp.

He flipped the power switch on the amp and immediately a loud screech rang out from the amp, apparently he had left the feedback on high at its last usage. He reached down and twisted a knob slowly to the left to reduce the feedback. Although the screeching blared in his ears he didn't appear to be in any hurry until he eventually stopped the screech. He moved a few other knobs to appropriate settings then played a few chords on the strings.

The young man looked over at the girl. Seeing that she was gruff, he figured talking gruffly back would possibly ease the tension between them, mainly from her standpoint and allow her to open up more. "Go anywhere? Where is anywhere? s**t, before you know it you'll find yourself at gunpoint in a necrophiliac's basement sucking his ******** shoes for mercy." He played a short rift. "Do you like Jimi Hendrix? I do, he was genius, shame he died from his vomit." He switched a switch on the switchboard and looked back up. "So where you from?"

[Kallistiae]

Cain watched him closely still, but the more he busied himself with his guitar, the less tense she became.
If he had made any sudden movements, she would have bolted, and been out the door of the bar before he could blink. But his hands were full now, and less likely to make a grab for her, or strike her.
Relatively safe now, she was content to lean against the bar and watch him fiddle with the guitar. Her eyes sparked with obvious interest in spite of herself, and she watched the proceedings carefully, making notes about where he plugged things in and how he tuned the guitar.
"Necrophiliac, siiick.." she said, but the tone in her voice was remarkably similar to the tone little boys will use when they've found a particularly gross looking bug, rather than actual disgust.

His tone did seem to mollify her, far more than terms of endearment or sweet words might have, and a little more tension eased out of her shoulders. Enough so that she began patting the pockets of her overly large jeans, finally pulling out a rumpled looking pack of cigarettes and sliding one out. It took her a moment longer to find a lighter, but when she did the child flicked it open with ease and light up her cig in a single long drag, blowing the smoke out through her nose with relish.
"Elvis died on the shitter, which do you think is worse?" she asked conversationally, apparently unaware that the sight of a 12 year old smoking might throw a few people off.
God help anyone that tried to stop her, too.
"So where you from?"
"Nowhere, where you from?" she countered without any real venom in her voice.

[Medicinal Dreams]

He smiled at her reaction and played the intro to "Hey Joe" by Jimi Hendrix quietly. "Indeed he did, but drowning in your vomit? That's disgusting...but then again Elvis did s**t all over himself. You have to think which is worse in the minds of the police investigators who looked at the dead bodies." He shrugged and rose an eyebrow at the cigarette. "Why are you smoking?"

[Kallistiae]

"Makes me look cool." She answered calmly, taking another drag from the cig, smoke rolling out of her nostrils like a miniature dragon.
Dont listen to those after school specials, kids. They're telling you lies.
Smoking does look cool, and Cain summoned every ounce of nonchalant baddassery in her small body, and leaned back against the bar counter, her elbows propped up on the countertop, cigarette dangling from her lips.
The little girl sat still for a moment, content to smoke for the time being, until the bar tender came to his senses and kicked her out - they all kicked her out sooner or later, said she was 'bad for business' and 'you cant sit in here, kid, this is a bar'; but a moment later her head started bopping absently to the music, despite the faint scowl still on her face.

The scowl wasnt aimed at anyone in particular - it was just...the way she was. She scowled and swore and smoke and stole. She didnt really mean anything by it, or by the snarky things she said.
"People always s**t themselves when they die, though." she pointed out from around the cigarette after a moments pause. "Hendrix woulda s**t hisself too. He was pro'lly lighter to carry away than Elvis, though."
Grey eyes flickered back behind the bar counter, inspecting the row of pies still out to cool.
The bar tender looked busy. Maybe she could grab a whole pie while this guy played his guitar and distracted everyone...
Her stomach rumbled again, not as loud as the first time, but loud enough to remind her that a single slice of pie did not a dinner make.

[Medicinal Dreams]

"Indeed it may help you look cool, but it really doesn't. I do it, my friends have done it, our lungs are just crusty scabs that would easily explode with a single prod of a finger, into dust and leave you lying on the ground breathing in your own blood." Although no sage, he had his share of street smarts and put them to good use, especially when in a sticky situation. He smile quickly shot over his lips as he saw her bobbing her head, but he shook it away before she could notice.

"You're right I suppose. I wonder if they considered taking his stuff or cutting out his gums after he played songs with his teeth. Many people would die for that talent, let alone to play a guitar." He reached out with his foot and pressed the button atop the pedal which transformed the pure guitar sound into a rough gainy sound as he began to play a few songs of Nirvana's.

Without even removing his eyes from his hands playing, let alone opening them; he could sense the awkward pause in her speech and remembered earlier her gaze of the pie. "I know what you're thinking, but I wouldn't do that if I were you."

[Rawrlicia]

Kallistiae

(...oh my good Lord adorable. *OOC clings to Cain*)

Valas was an awesome host. After getting the woman whatever it was the woman wanted, chatting with her a few minutes as a child wandered in and took a seat, the young man talking and playing a little song for her-he could again focus his attention on Kino and his daughter, on the new face-

...Valas suffered a flashback briefly, a small frown on his lips as he studied the girl in boy's clothing, smoking and cursing like a tough little thing-

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

"Why not? I would." Says the man ever so cheerfully, sailing past them to go behind the bar, picking up an ENTIRE cherry pie and sliding it right in front of the much too thin little girl seated at his bar. Valas snagged a fork from a hanging cup and held it out to her, other hand retrieving a jug of milk from the little fridge beneath the counter.

"It just so happens today is free pie day." He continues as he fills a glass and sets that neatly before her as well, a glance to Kino-and an even more pleasant smile. "Draws in...business, you know."

He'd have to make her some real lunch. Maybe a toasted sandwich. Or some soup. Or anything to fill that rumbling tummy, children shouldn't be hungry ever. No one should, in Valas expert opinion.

Blondie didn't seem to notice or care about the sudden introduction of cursewords. They didn't seem bad to her-no more than any other word she's heard. Kino's tightening arm gets an absent pet, the little girl tilting her head back to smile up at her. "Pancakes, mommy."

Awwww.

[Soda Pressing]

"A slice of rhubarb sounds good to me," she said as she was given the choices. She was used to having strawberry rhubarb but she was a fan of the rhubarb tart flavour. She wondered what pineapple rhubarb would taste like, too. Too tart tastes put together in a pie. How lovely! "Could I have a glass of milk with that?" she asked, quickly.

It didn't take long for her piece of pie and tall glass of milk to arrive. She thanked the man in front of her and took a bite of her pie. It was amazing. She complimented him on his fine baking before digging into the pie. She barely even noticed the new girl that walked in or the sound of the Nirvana songs playing. The pie took over her senses. She closed her eyes as she ate. Catching wonderful whiffs of the perfect pie as she ate.

[Hijiinx]

Being still half-asleep as she was, it'd take Kino a good few minutes more to pick up on the conversation filtering about the Ark now. Something else had her attention at the moment. At first it was the pancakes, but the chewing action of her still-fork-filled mouth slowed to a stop at the pat on her arm. Pancakes, mommy.

Grassy green eyes blinked down at the little girl. She still wasn't completely sure what was going on here, and Val had yet to completely fill her in. Anytime she tried to bring it up, he seemed to get just as apprehensive as she was. So she'd.. let it go. For now. Kino just wasn't sure how long she could handle playing (and being known as) mommy to a child that wasn't exactly hers. Though she did look like the two of them. But wasn't Valas.. well. Different? The feline woman's current train of thought caused the most mild of blushes to dust across her cheeks, probably without her really realizing it. "..Mmhmm. Pancakes." A pause. "Given that a certain someone has probably already fed you...--" Her eyes averted to Valas for a split second, with a faint smirk. "--are you willing to take a nap soon?"

[Kallistiae]

(( Adorable isnt usually the reaction I get with Cain. ^^ Im glad you like her.))

The little girl scowled at the man with the guitar, her lip curling up in a sneer through the cigarette smoke.
'I wouldnt do that if I were you' was universal child-speak for 'go on, i double dog dare you'.
This man might have considered himself streetwise, but he obviously didnt know kids.
Whats the first thing a child is going to do, after you tell them not to do something? Especially a child as...contrary...as Cain is.
Grey eyes flickered back to the pies, glancing around the bar and taking note of everyones positions. She clenched the cigarette tight between her teeth, tensing small shoulders as she prepared to duck under the slab of polished wood that served as the counter here. She could do it, if she moved fast. She was scrawny enough to fit through the small space between the barrels that held the counter up, and the cook was distracted.
If she ducked under real fast, she could grab that one on the end there, and be gone before the cook could grab something heavy enough to smack her with. She just had to-

- and then the cook turned and spoke to her, throwing off her train of thought as well as tossing a heavy wrench into her plans. The girl froze awkwardly in her seat, and tried to look as though she hadnt been about to steal something while her brain scurried to catch up to the situation and process what he had said.
Eyes narrowed once more with the same suspicion she had leveled at the Guitar Guy - the same suspicion she used to view the whole world - as the man turned and picked up the pie she had been eyeing, setting it down in front of her and busying himself behind the counter, setting a place for her with silverware and everything.

Who the hell were these people?
First they park a ********' boat in the middle of her city, as if no one was going to notice and/or question that, and then they just give her a whole freaking pie?
...maybe he had dropped this one.
Grubby fingers poked suspiciously at the crust of the pie, scraping a nail along the golden surface and looking for signs of foul play. A hair, a cockroach leg, spit, anything.
This sort of behavior was excusable from the coked up new-age hippie still playing guitar in the background. You cant expect someone on smack to be able to manage their posessions real well.
But this was obviously the chef, and in Cains experience, chef's were not friendly folks. They yelled and screamed and through rolling pins at her, hollering about her dirty hands in their precious food. And he didnt look stoned, or drunk, or...or anything.
She studied the man for a long moment, blowing a stream of thick smoke in his direction, hiding her narrowed eyes and the faintly confused expression on her face for a moment.
He just looked...friendly.
He seemed...nice.
That was really the only way to describe him. He just seemed nice. Like it was the only gear his brain possessed. His voice was deep and calm, something low growling in the base of his throat like the pleasant purr of a cat. Mellow and reassuring. It was the sort of voice that people flocked to, because no matter what was wrong, that voice said everything was going to be ok.
...
She didnt trust him.
No one was that nice, not really. No one was that friendly, and that reassuring unless they wanted something.

'...free pie day'
'...draws in business'
Her eyes narrowed again, until they were practically slits through the thick smoke she produced.
She didnt believe him. Maybe he'd roofied the pie. She wasnt going to fall for that, she'd be damned if she-
The girls stomach practically roared its disapproval, and she grimmaced before slowly, ever so slowly, as if she were afraid the thing might turn and bite her, she reached for the pie.
She was hungry, she was always hungry, and that hunger outweighed her suspicion for the time being.
She blatantly ignored the fork that had been set out for her, and dug into the dessert with her fingers, smearing cherry sauce all over her face as she stuffed handfuls of the pie into her mouth.
It was just as delicious as the first slice had been, and she stopped between mouthfulls only to take heaving gulps from the tall glass of milk nearby, or the last final drags from her cigarette.

[Medicinal Dreams]

The man watched the young girl devour the pie irregardless of his prior warning. She had already had one, not that he was jealous...but then again maybe feeding her addiction could cause her not to perform any shady acts here.

The man rose from his seat and placed the guitar back in its case and rewound the cord back up behind the amp. He yawned heavily and rubbed his sleepless eyes then stood back up. As he sat back down though, he slowly slipped into his own world...his world of nightmares.

He found himself sitting at a booth across from one of his young friends, apparently this was not present day for his friend was about thirteen years old. The young man, now about Cain's age laughed and talked to him about miscellaneous things until a loud bang occurred several feet away at the door of the diner the two were in. Two police officers entered and marched over to the bar and spoke in upraised voices to the bartender. "Excuse me sir, we're looking for a young boy about the age of twelve, about five and a half feet tall, black hair and green eyes. He was last seen hanging around this area and we're doing a small regional scan for him." The bartender gasped. "Why are you looking for him?" The officer spoke up again. "It appears he bludgered his father to death with an unknown object that he took from the crime scene with him." At this point in time, the young man who was reliving this memory had his back towards the officer but the friend of his was however facing them. The friend leaned over to the young man now younger. "Joey, listen to me man. The cops are here looking for you, they know you're here....you've gotta make a run for it!" The young boy, Joey began to breath quickly. "W-what do we do?" His friend grabbed his hand tight from across the table. "I'll help you escape!" Joey shook his head. "But you'll get caught Trevor." Trevor smiled. "Your father was a d**k, he deserved what he earned." The two boys nodded at one another and rose from the booth. Immediately the two officers spotted Joey with his friend and withdrew their pistols. "Stop right there! Put your hands in the air!" Trevor however, dashed at the officer knocking one directly to the ground and tripping the second. Joey seized the opportunity and made a sprint for the door, but as he passed, his spotted his friend's face in between the officers just before a gun accidentally discharged...

Months passed, feelings worsened for Joey as he wandered the town alone, with no friends now. His last friend died for him though, not intended. Joey sat beside a dumpster in an alleyway shivering in a puddle. Joey woke himself from a small cat-nap he tried to take to hear the pitter-patter of footsteps passing by as well as loud yells. Joey peered out from behind the dumpster and the wall to see a single man about the age of nineteen, being pursued by three angry supposable gang members. The man being chased tripped over a small hole in the alley and fell to his face but was soon surrounded by the three hooded men. The men yelled at the man and kicked at him and Joey rose to his feet. Joey overheard one of the men. "Where's our ******** money b*****d? You know you couldn't get away with it! Your payment is long due!" One man whipped out a butterfly knife and held it in front of him. Joey spotting this, leapt atop the large man, maybe seventeen years of age and pulled him down to the ground, knocking the knife out of his hand. Noting his reinforcement, the pursued man, roundhoused a gangster behind him in the head, instantly knocking him out. Joey however atop the man, raised his scarred arms and beat the gangster's head into the asphalt several times until he stopped moving. Joey rose with the assistance of the man and the few remaining gangsters that remained conscience ran. Joey turned to the older man as he was addressed. "Thank you young man, what is your name?" Joey stuttered then spoke up. "My name is Joey. Who are you?" The older man grinned. "My name is Matthew, a pleasure to meet you." The two did a somewhat fistbump and nodded to one another. Joey then asked another question. "Who are you and why were you running from those men?" The man smiled. "I was about to ask you the same question of why you were chilling in this alleyway....well anyways, lets just say I owed them some money for a bad habit so to speak...." Matthew raised an eyebrow at Joey's ragged appearance and noted his faux-hawk. "Joey, where are your parents?" Joey frowned. "Nowhere, I'm a runaway..." Matthew grimaced then smiled once more. "You like rock music?" Joey looked back up beaming at Matthew. "Yea dude! I used to have my own Fender guitar!" Matthew wrapped an arm around Joey's shoulder. "Well, let me introduce you to some folks." Matthew and Joey walked off into the distance of the city together.

Several years passed by and Joey was now part of a band at the age of nineteen. He sat in a trashed living room with two other young men just as Matthew entered. Matthew called out to Joey. "What's up Joe-Joe? Got you somethin." Matthew tossed Joey a bag of McDonald's then flopped down on the couch next to him after popping open a soda. "Figured you might be hungry." Joey grinned. "Thanks dude. I appreciate it..." Several hours passed by and the men continued to sit in the living room and watch tv and talk. A knock at the door rang out and Joey jumped up. "I got it." He set his bag on a table and scurried over to the door and slowly opened it up. As soon as the door was opened enough a black haired girl about the same age as Joey entered and pressed her lips against Joey's and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Hey baby...I missed you today.." Joey smiled. "Yea I missed you too." Joey closed the door and the two emerged back into the living room. Matthew laughed. "Oh Joe, I see Emily decided to show up today.." The girl, Emily smiled. "Yea, I wanted to see JJ." Emily turned turned to Joey and then pulled him to another room. After stripping of clothes the two became more intimate than earlier and Emily paused in the moment and pulled a bag out of her bra. "Here babe, I brought you this.." Joey rose an eyebrow. "What is that?" Emily smiled and pulled out a needle. "You'll love it, I promissse" On the last word she almost hissed and Joey began to reply but stopped as he injected him with a liquid through a needle. He laid down still and closed his eyes to this brand new addiction...

A few months passed and the band remained together. At one particular concert Joey smashed his guitar on a stage and kicked a hole in an amp. The rest of the band contributed to the destructions more often from that point on by destroying their own instruments as well.

Finally, one day after sitting in the same living room, Emily and Matthew both entered. Emily first spoke first after slapping Joey hard in the face. "You ******** you don't care about me anymore!" Joey began to reply but was stopped as Matthew interrupted and as Emily herself left the apartment. Matthew shook his head and sat down on the coffee table in front of Joey on the couch. "Listen Joe, we've found a new guy for the band and...I mean, you're really a talented cat man, but....we're gonna have to let you go..." Repayment for his deed, who could've swore...

A week before entering the ark, now at age twenty one, Joey began to live in the slums again thanks to his lost persona and his addiction. All he carried with him was his amp and his guitar. This particular day however was different, Joey entered a small bar on the outskirts of town and sat the bar amongst other people. He overheard one man talking to another woman. "You hear about that new Ark place being built? It looks like Noah's ******** ark...I'll be damned if I step foot in that fruitcake of a place." Joey's eyes widened at the mention of such a strange name for a place and turned to the man. "Do you know where this place is?" The gruff man turned to Joey and nearly spat in his face from his salivating type tongue. "It's near the middle of town, just take the nearest bypass there, you'll be there in no time you ******** p***k." Obviously this man was drunk, but Joey thanked him and proceeded on his way.

Now all Joey had to do since he was here now, he pictured himself walking up to the ark, entering and seeing angels inside. Angels that hugged him, ushered him foods and drinks kindly without charge..but in the middle of the room a dead skeleton sat with a large crack in it's skull...it's blood protruded from the wound and the brain throbbed. Joey screamed and awoke from his dream, falling off of his stool, now out of his dream and laid panting on the ground.