[Solo] Birthday (or 10 Things Brenley Can't Remember)

[Smerdle]

That night, Brenley did something he shouldn't have. Though he would only be driven to future mortification once as a result of these actions, they were still dangerous and reckless. At the time he didn't care, and if confronted with the same choice today, he would be likely to do it again.

Unable to settle his mind following the announcement of his sibling's impending birth, the boil took a pair of his experimental sleeping pills, each one from a distinct and incompatible batch.

It was a mistake.

The following is an approximate account of the result.  

[Smerdle]

one
screech speaks; screech leaves

"Master."

The voice was sibilant. Hissing. Lacking in the sorts of sounds it required lips to make.

Brenley opened his eyes, expecting to see some fantastical vista or dark, horrible dungeon before he recalled that none of those sorts of dreams began with him knowing who he was. He turned his head. Screech blinked his soft blue eyes from his spot next to the nightstand.

"Master. Follow me."

Naster

Thollow knee.

Laughter bubbled up from Bren's chest and out of his mouth before he knew he had made any sound at all. He had been so angry yesterday about something, but he couldn't recall...

"Master. Hurry."

"Yes. All right." He slid from his bed and followed the dromaiusaurus out of the reaper dorms, seemingly unconcerned that he was still in his pajamas. They walked through the forest, navigating across streams and over rocky paths until the orange light of Halloween Town glowed through the trees ahead.

"This is where I must leave you, Master," the minipet said. "I shall return in one year's time. I ask you to wait for me, or I will perish, in pain and alone."

"Wait. What?"

"One year's time." The creature turned tail and scampered out of sight.  

[Smerdle]

two
the assault of an innocent

He watched Screech retreat into the trees, heart sinking as his fuzzy friend disappeared completely. Well, that was just great. What was he supposed to do now? He was alone in the middle of nowhere in the head of night with only the vaguest idea of how to get home. The lights touched the back of his neck. He turned. He stared at them with narrowed eyes. He supposed reaching some sort of twenty-four hour establishment would be a good start. The boil began to move.

The overpass was unexpected. It stretched over a park and had no safety measures to keep creeple from falling off of its edges, each side bound solely by trees. Still feeling dejected over the loss of Screech, Bren kicked a rock between two trunks and off of one side. He heard a shout from below.

He ran.  

[Smerdle]

three
stolen clothes

Arms flailing, Brenley rushed out into the road, still running from whoever he had hit with that rock. He was familiar enough with cars to stay out of the way of the ones that didn't slow down, but he also wasn't afraid to approach the one that had stopped. He hopped into the back seat, quickly thanking the driver but otherwise paying him little mind as he struggled to shut the door.

When Bren finally did turn to face the one who had picked him up, there was a gun pointed at his chest. For a moment, all he could do was stare. He might have seen plenty of cars but he had never been so close to a Halloween pistol before.

"Your clothes."

"I'm sorry?"

"Take off your clothes. They're ugly as a hunter's a**, but I need 'em." The driver turned around, his scaly green face marred by a wrinkly frown. "I'll give you mine. Hurry up."

Something about this was all wrong, but Bren couldn't get his finger even remotely close to putting it on anything relating to the situation. He opened his mouth to protest. The man jammed the gun between the boil's teeth. He probably should have seen that coming.

"Strip. Now."

Bren did as he was told.  

[Smerdle]

four
a job

A little over twenty minutes later, Brenley stood on the curb outside a rundown pet store in a pair of dirty overalls and a flannel jacket. The cabbie had let him keep his boots, but besides being stained and wrinkled, the articles of clothing he had been left with were entirely too large. But his state of dress was hardly his greatest concern.

Bren had absolutely no idea how to get home.

"Lost?" a convenient voice asked.

"Hm? Yes. I think I am." He thought he might turn to see who had spoken, but she was on him as soon as he'd replied, crowding close as was her wont. Bren couldn't recall where he had first met the ghoul, but he remembered her name easily (Weber) and her species as well (demon of claustrophobia). At least that began to explain why she didn't appear to grasp the concept of personal space.

"You wanna come on a job with me?"

"What sort of... job?"

"I've gotta break into the zoo."  

[Smerdle]

five
the mark

He could think of many reasons why he himself might want to break into the zoo, but none of them were likely to be shared by an adolescent demon.

"Yes. In that case, yes. I'd be happy to."

Weber laughed, the sharp slap to his back that accompanied it startling Bren's spine straight. "I didn't think..." She paused, looking up at him with thoughtful wonder. "How about we make it official then? You help me break into the zoo without getting caught, and I'll get you back to the school safe.: She held out her hand to shake.

He took it.

Bren hadn't ever considered what receiving a demon's mark might feel like, and as such, he had nothing to compare it to. His fingers tingled slightly, and when their palms separated, two thick silver lines shone from the skin between his thumb and first finger.  

[Smerdle]

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