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JD slumped his way through the halls, a small, legged suitcase bumbling along behind him. Campus looked so different lately - he hardly recognized any of the ghouls and boils that passed him in the halls, and perhaps more embarassingly, none of THEM recognized HIM. He grunted irritably, and just walked faster.

It was a homecoming, of sorts. He'd been on tour to promote his new album, but things just hadn't gone well. From set problems, to venue cancellations, to jeering crowds, the entire thing had been a near-disaster. They barely managed to break even on costs, and it was beginning to look increasingly like the demonic rock star might have just been a one hit wonder.

Whatever. He tried to shut out his brooding thoughts and concentrate on making it toward the demon dorms.

JD was busy staring at the carpet between his polished, leather boots, and nearly tripped over something large, dark and handsome brooding sitting by his door.

"'Ey!" He looked up, annoyed - and then had a moment of recognition. "Oh. Hey dude."

He looked up and down the hallway, then back at the large, dark-skinned boil.

"You uh... How long've you been out here, man?" He pulled out a big, fancy skeleton key and inserted it into the skull-shaped door handle. The skull's teeth clicked shut and the knob twisted. JD pushed the door in impatiently. He'd had to install new locks ever since the...incident.

"Well, like. Whatever. Come in. Not like I got anything better to do," he remarked gruffly. He wouldn't admit it, but seeing the towering beast of a boil waiting at his door had cheered him up an iota. Maybe he wasn't exactly a fan, but he WAS a friend, and it was nice to know someone had noted his absence. Even if it was a dude, and not, say, this particular dude's screeching hot ladyfriend.

He left his suitcase idling by the door, making his way to the bright red sofa and flopping lazily over the arm with a sigh. "I miss anything lately?"

"Uh."

JD blinked.

"It's nice seeing you too, dude...?"

Whatever. When had that guy gotten so weird? Or maybe he'd always been weird. Not like JD was one to talk, anyway. A one hit wonder, on his way out. He frowned. No, it would be better to focus on Herryk. Hopefully his last few weeks on campus involved less money and crushed dreams.

"You alright man?" With a pained expression, he conquered his laziness enough to flop one arm over and gesture to the rest of the empty couch. "Seat's free over here. Trouble with the old lady?"

What was her name? Francine... Frankie... Frufru... Freya. Wait. No. Maybe it WAS Francine. Eh, whatever.

Didn't matter anyway, as his ongoing Stay Alive policy required him to continue to avoid the hottie with a body so that the big hunk of manmeat currently standing in the middle of his living room didn't turn him into hamburger. "If you need a place to hang you can chill with me. Least I can do for a friend." He patted the cushion.

"Seriously man. I don't bite."

He paused.

"Hard."

When Herryk cursed, JD couldn't help it. He grinned, tilting his head to the side and inspecting his friend with his beady, black eyes.

"Been on tour. Puttin' the pedal to the metal, an' all that s**t," he replied, drawing out the last word. "It blew. Assholes. For real." He propped his feet up on the coffee table, sighing irritably. "Barely made enough dough to pay for the whole -" he waved his hand in the air, "shindig."

It seemed like they'd both been pretty miserable. Ugh.

JD whistled, a sharp, high note. The suitcase lumbered over, and with a snap of his fingers it flung itself to the ground, creaking open. He fished around in it's contents. "I got just the thing for this kinna funk, man." After a few more minutes of digging, he pulled out a large, dark bottle, a plastic bag, and a packet of tobacco papers. He unwrapped the plastic lovingly to reveal some sort of chalky green substance.

"Troll dirt. The finest dried troll earwax, for only the most radical dudes. I got it off this vamp ghoul, she was a real minx. Threw in the bottle of pumpkin juice too, said it was spiked with," he lowered his voice conspiratorially, "human blood." He took a swig from the bottle - and sputtered like a girl. He had no idea what to do with the papers - so he just dabbed up a bit of the earwax on his finger and licked it off.



Peh.

"Hey man," JD complained, watching Herryk guzzle the whole thing. "I had to guess like, 10 ghouls' bra sizes to win that!"

He was lying. He paid for it. And the kiss that accompanied it. With a long suffering sigh, he eyed the troll dirt again. After some consideration, he poured a a large pile out onto a sheet of paper. Ah. He wadded it up and-

Promptly swallowed it.

"Yeah man, blowing assholes. Means it sucked." He tilted his head again. "Well, you know like, metaphorically or whatever. Because blowing doesn't mean the same as sucking and..." He just let that trail off. What was he even saying?

Meanwhile, a paper-wrapped ball of troll excrement slowly travelled through his FEARgestion system, approaching an event horizon of critical mass.

"I feel..."

He squinted.

"Purple."

"Ghouls, yeah man. They like -" his eyes went round as saucers as Herryk confirmed his suspicions.

He just sat there for a second, staring, his mouth open in a perfect 'O'.

After some time, his teeth clicked shut. He eyed the plastic baggie. "Purple is good. S'like. Royalty." He slid bonelessly off the sofa to crawl in the space between the couch and coffee table, licking the remainder out the bag. He felt warm. The room was suddenly very hot and very... there were things touching him.

He blinked down blearily at his jeans. Welp. It was his room.

As he worked his way out his trousers, he finished his reply. "They like, they're all soft and cute an' stuff but they don't want noffin to DO with you, they just want like, to talk." He looked bewildered, jeans stuck somewhere in mid-thigh region to reveal his very festive bright red bikini underwear. "Or like. Watch from afar man. While you shower. Alone."

He paused, slipping out of his pants and laying against the couch and subsequently Herryk's thigh. He gazed up at him wonderingly. "She was pretty hot though man. I am jus' sayin'."

A pause.

"You're like. Really big."

Herryk's hand burned against his flushed cheek. He leaned into it anyway. It was so strange - everything about the other boil was just large... He turned to bury his nose in the bend of his knee, wondering if he tasted like he smelled.

His tongue darted out, dabbing the side of his kneecap. "M'not a ghoul," he hissed. "You taste like... like piano. Pi. An. Oh. Ghouls have problems, I'm not fat, I'm pretty..." He stretched, smoothing one hand down his hips to emphasize exactly how pretty he happened to be. He scooted over a bit more, to cuddle with Herryk's leg. He felt comfortable. Just two bros, doing what bros do...

As an afterthought, he handed the boil what remained of the plastic bag. There were still a few crusty hunks of troll dirt clinging to the folds.

JD scooted over a little more, sliding around his boot to crawl up between his legs. He petted Herryk's loincloth gently. If he'd heard what the other boil had said, he made no indication.

"Is this like..." He paused, his brain a fog of rainbows and herpicorns and not a lot of sense, "like, real fur man?"

JD sat up, trying to kneel, but lost his balance and fell forward against the larger boil's chest. His (shiny) bottom crested over the edge of the coffee table like a ship about to sink, and his knees dangled below sofa level. He giggled drunkenly into Herryk's broad pectorals. The bum of his undies read 'RED HOT'.

"Oops." His hands rested uncertainly against the other boil's large, muscular thighs.