ᴸᴵᶠᴱ ᴵˢ ᴮᴱᴬᵁᵀᴵᶠᵁᴸ。o○♡

@lostinmuslc sent . . .

"You have to be SHITTING ME!" She yells. Anger filling her tone as she slams the local newspaper on the table. On the headline was a picture of a man with long greasy hair holding up a rock n roll sign outside of a prison. 'Jake Maginnis released from prison for good behavior'.

"THAT FUCKING PRICK WAS RELEASED AFTER HE RUINED MY LIFE!?" Her eye visibly twitched as the glass she held broke in her hand. Glass shards filling it as she curses once more." Ah shit! Dammit! This is the worst day ever.."

[Dude ;)]

Dude doesn't react much beyond his brows shooting far above the rim of his sunglasses. She's clearly enraged about something, but Dude doesn't bother asking — figures the answer will surface soon — and it does, in the form of a newspaper.

He leans in closer, squinting at the print, and instantly understands where her anger comes from. ❝ Damn. That sucks. ❞ It sounds like an underwhelming response lacking any actual sympathy. But deep down, Dude's just as pissed — an intense indignance festers within him. It's one reason why he hasn't moved an inch, he fears if he does, then he'll explode.

The sound of glass shattering snaps his attention upward instantly. ❝ Hey, hey, be careful. ❞ He's already halfway out of his chair. ❝ Last thing we need is you getting hurt . . . ❞ Ah fuck, it looks bad. He's on his feet now, striding to the cabinet and yanking it open hard enough for the hinges to screech. He grabs a first aid kit, a bottle of rubbing alcohol, and doesn't bother shutting the door as he turns back.

❝ Look, it'll be okay . . . ❞ because he'll make sure it will be. ❝ Here . . . gimme your hand. Gotta uh . . . pull the glass out, clean and bandage it up. ❞

"Thank you..I'm sorry about that. I just never felt so god damn angry in my life." She pauses. Her hand gripping the newspaper and crumpling it up tightly." If that bastard comes anywhere near me don't think I won't go fucking postal on him." Though would she really..?

She was a kind woman. Gave Dude a home, lived quietly. Always offered to help. But could she kill someone? Her eyes shut as she covered her face with her now bandaged hand and took a deep breath. Champ wandering up to her as she gave the dog a nice little pet with a broken smile before she swept what was left of the glass into the garbage she kept next to the sink.

"You know what? I think im gonna get drunk. Try to forget about it." Though probably getting drunk wasn't the best way to suppress the anger. It would only make things worse. But she didn't seem to care as she pulled out a box of wine from the pantry and knocked it back.

"I like that idea. I watched the first one. It was terrible but in a good way." The thought of seeing the new five nights at Freddy's movie sounded fun. She's seen the first one with friends before she moved. Now she was seeing it with Dude. How exciting. Her smile widened as she grabbed the keys to her van and her purse with her concealed carry. "It always takes me a minute to get my wheelchair all folded." She said slightly annoyed. Slightly apologetic as she wheeled herself out the door and into the sidewalk.

Something still nagged at her though. Something deep on the back of her mind that Dude was acting different. Her eyes narrowed as she hummed a slight tune to try to get her mind off of it. Pulling the door to her van open as she lifted herself into the driver's seat and started to fold her wheelchair. The process took a minute but she was quick about it as she placed the wheelchair in the back with some effort of course.

❝ That's most horror movies, honey. They all suck, but that's the charm of them. ❞ Not all of them, but most were. They were full of cheap jump scares, bad pacing, a weak story, and a pretend that gore substitutes actual fear.

Demon followed alongside her to the van, unbothered, climbing into the passenger's seat. He didn't mind her fiddling with the wheelchair. Under different circumstances, it might've grated at his nerves. But now it gave him time to think, to figure out how he'd play out this little game he had planned. He clicked his seatbelt into place — even though it was pointless. But hey, he had to play the role of a human with vulnerable mortality.

The supermarket wasn't far, this town was too tiny. But Demon would still make conversation as they head onto the road, in hopes of egging her on.

She's thinking too long. Her head shook as she pulled out of the driveway and down the road. It didn't take long to get to the supermarket. Paradise was a small town so getting there was quick. Having to repeat the process she placed her wheelchair infront of the driver's door and plopped back into it as she went straight to the dog food. Placing it on her lap she strolled back to the beer isle and looked around.

She was on her wheelchair fixing a new string to her violin as she seemed to have found it snipped off. As if someone had cut it but she thought it was a simple break. Wrapping the violin string tightly before testing the tune of it. "There. Say Dude. Wanna go out tonight? I was thinking we could go see a movie." She says as she puts her favorite violin back on its pedestal.

"Oh yeah and we gotta pick up food for champ." She says as she approached the dog. Petting him playfully as he chewed on the bone she bought him. Since Dude moved in things have been far less lonely. And far less dangerous even with her concealed carry. She let's champ run around her backyard and stay safe from harm as he would cuddle in bed with her.

The smile never left his face, especially not as he observed her fuss with the violin. Curious . . . what had caused that ? His hands clasp together at the prospect of going out, anticipation sparking. ❝ Yes ! We can watch the new Five Nights at Freddy's. Sure, it's PG-13 violence. But hey, that's better than none at all ! ❞ And children dying was always hilarious.

Demon's gaze landed to the dog, blissfully existing in its ignorant little world. Right, dogs needed to eat, just like everything else on earth. He stroked his goatee in consideration. There had to be some fun in going out. He wondered . . . should he try to nudge her toward something extreme, convince her to go postal ? Maybe engineer a messy breakup ? or should he roll her off a cliff ? Not that the Demon had anything personal against her. But her death might be enough to push Dude over the edge and wouldn't that be entertaining ?

He'd decide once they get out. No need to rush.

"I like that idea. I watched the first one. It was terrible but in a good way." The thought of seeing the new five nights at Freddy's movie sounded fun. She's seen the first one with friends before she moved. Now she was seeing it with Dude. How exciting. Her smile widened as she grabbed the keys to her van and her purse with her concealed carry. "It always takes me a minute to get my wheelchair all folded." She said slightly annoyed. Slightly apologetic as she wheeled herself out the door and into the sidewalk.

Something still nagged at her though. Something deep on the back of her mind that Dude was acting different. Her eyes narrowed as she hummed a slight tune to try to get her mind off of it. Pulling the door to her van open as she lifted herself into the driver's seat and started to fold her wheelchair. The process took a minute but she was quick about it as she placed the wheelchair in the back with some effort of course.

@lostinmuslc asked . . .

"Dude...your acting kinda funny..are you alright..?"

[ From @lostinmuslc to demon ]

❝ Never been better, sweetheart ! ❞ He probably shouldn't be doing this. He knows damn well that this'll piss off Dude beyond words. But while that buffoon is out doing God knows what to score some cash, Demon saw opportunity and seized it.

He needs some entertainment and Dude should've provided that for him !

She was on her wheelchair fixing a new string to her violin as she seemed to have found it snipped off. As if someone had cut it but she thought it was a simple break. Wrapping the violin string tightly before testing the tune of it. "There. Say Dude. Wanna go out tonight? I was thinking we could go see a movie." She says as she puts her favorite violin back on its pedestal.

"Oh yeah and we gotta pick up food for champ." She says as she approached the dog. Petting him playfully as he chewed on the bone she bought him. Since Dude moved in things have been far less lonely. And far less dangerous even with her concealed carry. She let's champ run around her backyard and stay safe from harm as he would cuddle in bed with her.

[To an semi unconscious injured sinestro]

⇏ @lostinmuslc from x

Pain sears, adrenaline long worn off. Body that aches, that strains, that fights against the caving darkness in his vision- & the thing inside of him, a twisting, serpentine tail coiling about his ribs, claws tearing at his chest, (pushing,) trying to get out to- A voice. Golden eyes blink hard, ears laid flat, as hand presses underneath himself, as he strains to push himself upward, to sit. Muscles shake, violet blood dripping, & catlike, Sinestro snarls. "Do not touch me-" A snapping of voice, a baring of teeth. His shoulders twisting, as he works to get a knee under himself, weak. The darkness, waning, his elbow buckling, body hitting the earth with a huff of air & a pained groan. "This- this does not concern you."

But he needed help and as useless as she was she was going to help him weather he liked it or not. Her hands reaching out to him as she tried to pull him to his feet. Men. Always seem to not want to need help from women out of what? Embarrassment? She didn't know as she locked her wheelchair into place and pulled.

Could be romantic, playfull anything you want.

@lostinmuslc sent . . .

Myra hands him a great big bag that looked kinda heavy as she struggled to hand it to him her smile wide as she had sparkles in her eyes.

"For you, Dude. Merry Christmas!" She hoped he liked her gift. She put a lot of work into it.

As soon as she hands it to him, his arms collapse beneath the weight, hands, and the bag, falling to the floor — like a cartoon character trying to hold a several ton weight. With wobbling knees, Dude lifts the bag back up.

'Merry Christmas, Dude! I hope you like my gifts. I tried to find the best for you. Love, Myra Kristofferson.' And a visa gift card that had $100 on it. It was the least she could do for someone as close as him.

"You know- it's funny." She coughs a moment before continuing." How nice you are. When I first saw you I thought you were out to take advantage of me and steal my shit while I was down." She wiggled a finger with a stupid smile on her face." I was wrong about that." But when it came to his ex wife. She cringed deeply. Thinking back to what he said. No appreciation just nagging and bullshit? Ew.

"Honestly your ex sounds like a Karen." The new word for 'bitch' these days. A woman so entitled that they believe their the queen of everything. She'd hate to have someone like that in her life. But as she looked at him she noticed something..something unexplainable. A metal plate..?

"What's that..?" She asked as she leaned over and brushed his orange hair aside and took a look at it." Holy shit..holy fuck." She covered her mouth. How was he still alive? That was usually the signature tell tale sign of a bullet wound." How are you still alive? Who the hell did that to you?" She asked as she looked at the area for the longest time. He was a miracle. Not that myra believed in God. She was Atheist. But he seemed to have survived something horrible himself.

As much as he could argue about how nice he actually was, Dude couldn't take offense to the rest of her assumptions. ❝ Yeah, I can't really blame you for that. Most people here would do that. ❞ He grimaced. ❝ Had it happen to me more than once. ❞ But he always hunt them down, & got his shit back . . . even if forcibly. ❝ Guess I sympathized. ❞ Believe it or not, he was capable of sympathy . . . on occasion.

He rocked in his seat, belly laughing at her after she called his ex a Karen. He always called her what she was, a bitch. But honestly, Karen fit just as well. Dude was about to wholeheartedly agree when he noticed the sudden shift in her face — concern.

Oh, right. The bullet scar dug in his temple. It's impossible to miss. Most strangers noticed it, Dude could tell by their expressions. But they never commented on it. The question was too heavy & too persona.

Myra, however, wasn't a stranger. Her worry was understandable. Dude knew it was probably something he needn't keep from her.

"We both been through some shit it looks like." She mutters as she pats his back. She genuinely was happy he was alive. Her eyes were like rubies at this point as she sighs and leans back into the couch." I'm not much of a believer in God. But someone might say he has plans for you."

"You know if my mouth wasn't just full of vomit I'd kiss you right now." She chuckles as she wiped a bit of leftover bile with her wrist. Still laying with her bra exposed as if it was another Tuesday. Funny. She wouldn't be doing this if she was sober. But who else was a sinner?" I doubt you'd want that in your mouth." She shook her head. Would no doubt be disgusting.

"As for the appreciation for help? You'll definitely get it with me. Trust me ,Dude. My mom taught me how to be a woman. Not a bitch." Tapping the straw against her palm she passes the case of wax over to Dude if he wanted another hit." Oh shit I almost forgot!" She reaches over to grab something behind the couch and pulled out a ball of yarn and crochet hook. Though it looked to be a potted plant with eyes she was working on. It looked decent despite her being a beginner.

"I don't know why but being high makes me wanna just crochet. I only worked on this while I was high." After a few minutes she tied a final leaf onto the stem and smiled. "It's so damn cute! Look at it!"

The little potted plant had no mouth but eyes that looked cute on it. To her at least. Next thing you know it's staring into Dude's soul. But to Myra it was a project she worked hard on and it was a distraction from the pain she went through.

"Man crochet is like..a lifesaver with the weed. It's like watching Deadpool 2. Epic and life changing-" That was definitely the weed talking..hard to understand and incoherent. She placed the potted plant on the night stand next to her and stared at it for a few minutes. Then to Dude.

But despite his frustration, her reassurance caused him to crack a smile — even a soft chuckle slipping out. ❝ Sounds like your mother raised you right. ❞ Better than his parents ever managed, he's certain. ❝ & sounds like you also know what bitches are like. Had a wife who was one. Never appreciated shit, always yelling at me 'cause I fucked something up somehow. Couldn't even breathe right according to her. ❞ He took a long hit from the joint, watching the smoke ride up to the ceiling. It was oddly relaxing.

Before he could hop back on his train of complaints, she pulled out a . . . plant thing ? Maybe it was one of those plants that fought zombies in those old games everyone had forgotten about. Too busy playing POSTAL instead.

❝ It looks cute, ❞ he chuckled, ❝ but it's giving poisonous vibes. Like I'd find it in the woods & it'd spray neurotoxin in my face, delivering me a slow, agonizing death. ❞ Was that a compliment or not ? Either way, it was mesmerizing. He took another drag without looking away.

He kept nodding along as she rambled. ❝ The Deadpool movies are kickass. Apparently Ryan Reynolds is an asshole in real life. But that actually makes me like him more. I think it's funny but not many people online do. Who cares ? They're all thin-lipped pussies. ❞

As much as he'd love to continue discussing celebrity controversies, Mira's loud vomiting had distracted him. He couldn't help but laugh. Not at her, but the memory it pulled from him. His hand rubbed slow circles on her back, trying to provide comfort.

"You know- it's funny." She coughs a moment before continuing." How nice you are. When I first saw you I thought you were out to take advantage of me and steal my shit while I was down." She wiggled a finger with a stupid smile on her face." I was wrong about that." But when it came to his ex wife. She cringed deeply. Thinking back to what he said. No appreciation just nagging and bullshit? Ew.

"Honestly your ex sounds like a Karen." The new word for 'bitch' these days. A woman so entitled that they believe their the queen of everything. She'd hate to have someone like that in her life. But as she looked at him she noticed something..something unexplainable. A metal plate..?

"What's that..?" She asked as she leaned over and brushed his orange hair aside and took a look at it." Holy shit..holy fuck." She covered her mouth. How was he still alive? That was usually the signature tell tale sign of a bullet wound." How are you still alive? Who the hell did that to you?" She asked as she looked at the area for the longest time. He was a miracle. Not that myra believed in God. She was Atheist. But he seemed to have survived something horrible himself.

"I feel like im asking you to be my personal maid." She laughs. Her face was red with amusement as the cheese stuck between her teeth shown. Her face was stuck with a permanent grin.

"But that's all I ask. Just pull your own weight and help out from time to time. But there's one rule that's most important. When I work. I need quiet." She looks at her violins and sighs." I make music. I converted one of the rooms into my personal recording studio." She points to a hallway." It's just the first door on the left. Sometimes I can work for hours. Reminds me I need to clean up the red bull cans. It's how I make myself money. Pays good. But..sometimes it can be stressful."

She watches the TV absent-mindedly. Her mind wandering to things she should worry about but she doesn't thanks to the abundance of weed in her system. Her red eyes looking down then..slowly shut. "I'm okay- just.. feeling dizzy-" she mutters. Her body swaying as she leans back into the couch and sighs. Shutting her eyes it felt like she was on a top spinning fast with her strapped to the stick that makes it spin. Only when she opens her eyes she takes a second before she spoke again." You ever just...ever..have a voice in your head telling you what to do when your at your worst?"

She always seemed to get so deep and thoughtful when she's high. Like she's awakened a third eye or something. Like thinking about psychological trauma or something involving the universe. Like looking through another person's eyes. Or being another person entirely." I should tell you how I lost my legs." She looks at her shirt and raises it. Revealing her bra with an abundance of ugly burn scars that would make any man scream. But it was mostly on her waist.

❝ I also have a rule. ❞ He raised a finger. ❝ Always show appreciation when I help. That's it. That's the whole rule. ❞ After years of being yelled at for existing in the incorrect way, Dude refused to be tied down to an ingrate ever again.

Along with hers, his eyes drifted upward to the violins on her wall. Honestly, he's never heard of Lindsay Sterling. But that's also not his flavor of music. He was a '90s & 2000s rock kind of guy. Godsmack, Slipknot, KoRn, Disturbed. Angry men singing about being angry. He rarely listened to anything else — especially not the genres that heavily relied on violins. Gay ass instruments.

❝ & yeah. While you're pregnant with your next song, I can just fuck off to the bar . . . or run some errands. ❞ Or smoking crack & fistfighting a hobo over leftovers on a Waffle House parking lot.

When she showed signs of visible drowsiness, Dude was ready to get up to retrieve some blankets, maybe some food. Figured she had drank & smoked too much. But as she spoke, he sat back that down. Only to look at her, kind of startled.

'Holy shit, Dude ! She can read your every thought ! GET THE FUCK OUT OF THERE. ABORT.'

He knew the Demon was likely just saying that to fuck with him. But goddamn, he's high on two substances & it was kind of getting to him. Dude rubbed at the back of his neck, trying to think rationally instead of panicking. Maybe she was just like him ? She also had an ugly demon with a stupid fucking voice in her head as well.

❝ Uhh . . . yeah. Surprisingly, I do. It's really annoying. ❞ His hand kept rubbing at his neck. ❝ I try not to listen to it, though. It's no good. ❞

Inside his skull, the Demon gasped theatrically. 'I'm hurt !' Dude knew it was just playing. Which disappointed him, because he wished the Demon was actually hurt, or even killed. Fuck that guy.

But his attention from the Demon completely vanished when she lifted her shirt. Dude leaned in closer, ogling, way too interested. Big burn scars or no big burn scars, the glimpse of her bra made his lil' Dude salute like a loyal soldier.

Except then her story began, & the mood crashed harder than the drunk driver she was describing. ❝ Really ? How do you know it was a rockstar ? ❞ It's not that he was doubting her memory, but he was deeply curious about whom the culprit was. Might pay him a visit later . . . with a shotgun.

As if he didn't frequently drive under the influence. He could've easily been the one who rammed into her. So how could he fault someone else for it ? Dude wasn't considering that, nor did he want to think about that.

"As for the appreciation for help? You'll definitely get it with me. Trust me ,Dude. My mom taught me how to be a woman. Not a bitch." Tapping the straw against her palm she passes the case of wax over to Dude if he wanted another hit." Oh shit I almost forgot!" She reaches over to grab something behind the couch and pulled out a ball of yarn and crochet hook. Though it looked to be a potted plant with eyes she was working on. It looked decent despite her being a beginner.

"I don't know why but being high makes me wanna just crochet. I only worked on this while I was high." After a few minutes she tied a final leaf onto the stem and smiled. "It's so damn cute! Look at it!"

The little potted plant had no mouth but eyes that looked cute on it. To her at least. Next thing you know it's staring into Dude's soul. But to Myra it was a project she worked hard on and it was a distraction from the pain she went through.

"Man crochet is like..a lifesaver with the weed. It's like watching Deadpool 2. Epic and life changing-" That was definitely the weed talking..hard to understand and incoherent. She placed the potted plant on the night stand next to her and stared at it for a few minutes. Then to Dude.

She grabbed a bag of cheetos and passed it to him. Not just any cheetos. Cheetos puffs. The type that gets stuck in your teeth but you can't help but pick it out even with someone looking." Ruined the movie. But eh. Classics always hit best."

She looked over to him. She never seen a redheaded man until she met him. Some part of her wanted to ask if his father was Irish and a midget so she could call him her 'lucky charm'. The thought made her giggle lightly as she popped another cheeto into her mouth. Watching the mouse go after the girl of his dreams. That moment made her think. What if that was them? More or less the two love birds no one expected? Maybe she could get this man on his feet. Not that she thought him bad. But he seemed...depressed somehow.

"You ever just think about moving away from here..?" She asked as she looked at him. "Get out of the rough life and move semplice nicer? Like Wyoming? It's nice up there. But the winters are very cold." She used to live there. Was the most quiet you could get outside of Alaska. The one going she hadn't thought of was money. How would he get there? She saw his trailer. It was a mess. Not that she judged she's seen messier. Her uncle was a horder. Nevertheless she thought. And thought. And thought.

He tried to reign himself in just enough to actually speak. ❝ It's a damn shame kids' cartoons aren't really violent anymore. Apparently, violence isn't funny. Adults turned into total sissies sissies, too scared children would start hittin' each other with frying pans. ❞ Not exactly the direction he meant to take this conversation — he'd been aiming to talk about the voice acting — but watching Tom get the shotgun derailed him. ❝ I mean, I grew up watching this shit & I turned out completely fine. ❞ A spectacularly inaccurate statement. Though, Tom & Jerry was unlikely the reason why he ended up chronically unemployed, suicidal, divorced, violent crackhead.

He accepted the bag of puffs, immediately cramming a handful into his mouth. ❝ Every new movie is just based on stuff we had as kids, but the new writers not understanding why we liked it in the first place, ❞ he rambled, cheeks full.

Though his chewing came to a crawl, he didn't reach for any more puffs. He mulled on her question for a moment, becoming silent.

❝ . . . Hmm. Sometimes, ❞ he finally answered, passing the Cheeto bag back to her. ❝ This place is a hellhole. I've always wondered if there's somewhere better. But . . . hell, I also wonder if I'd just be jumping outta the frying pan & into the fire. ❞

Arizona had put him through a lot of bullshit. But it's also become familiar. Dude may adapt if forced to, but he preferred not to submit to change. Maybe that's one reason why he stayed in a loveless marriage for so long — it only ending when she walked out.

Another shrug, this one more uncertain. ❝ Guess I wouldn't be opposed to leaving, though. Wherever my trailer is, & where my dog Champ is, I think I'd be just fine. ❞

Despite that, he winced when she uttered the words ground rules. It shouldn't come as a surprise to him; everyone had rules in their homes. Relationships were all about compromise. But after having just left the Bitch, Dude didn't know if he's ready to be held down by a set of laws again. His head slowly turned to look at Myra, a forced grin on his face.

"I feel like im asking you to be my personal maid." She laughs. Her face was red with amusement as the cheese stuck between her teeth shown. Her face was stuck with a permanent grin.

"But that's all I ask. Just pull your own weight and help out from time to time. But there's one rule that's most important. When I work. I need quiet." She looks at her violins and sighs." I make music. I converted one of the rooms into my personal recording studio." She points to a hallway." It's just the first door on the left. Sometimes I can work for hours. Reminds me I need to clean up the red bull cans. It's how I make myself money. Pays good. But..sometimes it can be stressful."

She watches the TV absent-mindedly. Her mind wandering to things she should worry about but she doesn't thanks to the abundance of weed in her system. Her red eyes looking down then..slowly shut. "I'm okay- just.. feeling dizzy-" she mutters. Her body swaying as she leans back into the couch and sighs. Shutting her eyes it felt like she was on a top spinning fast with her strapped to the stick that makes it spin. Only when she opens her eyes she takes a second before she spoke again." You ever just...ever..have a voice in your head telling you what to do when your at your worst?"

She always seemed to get so deep and thoughtful when she's high. Like she's awakened a third eye or something. Like thinking about psychological trauma or something involving the universe. Like looking through another person's eyes. Or being another person entirely." I should tell you how I lost my legs." She looks at her shirt and raises it. Revealing her bra with an abundance of ugly burn scars that would make any man scream. But it was mostly on her waist.

Instant coughing fit.

Damn the stuff hit right but why does it have to make you cough so hard? She grabbed a bottle of water from the side table and chugged it after the smoke came out. Her eyes shifting as instant hazyness filled her mind. "I smoke to h-help me sleep. Almost every night I take a gummy to help drift. But this is for special occasions." She hummed as her eyes became lidded. Smiling wide as he spoke again.

"Oh? I found that pretty obvious when you walked up with red eyes~!" She chuckles. Her eyes practically turning red as they spoke. The one thing about weed is it always made anyone look like a demon. Luckily she was someone who enjoyed her job as a music maker. Violinist at its finest. Not as good as Lindsey Sterling but she will get there.

Her eyes wander the room and she passed the pipe to Dude and nodded." It's strong stuff. Put me on my ass before the accident!" She laughs. Her fingers gliding across the sofa for the TV remote and turned on one thing that she hadn't seen since she was younger. Tom and Jerry. The funny cartoon cat and mouse. It caught her attention instantly as she started laughing at the predicament the cat had gotten into.

'Good for you, bud. She doesn't think you're completely insane yet.'

Unlike before, Dude ignored the voice. He agreed, she probably didn't think he was crazy yet. & Dude preferred to keep it that way. Most women weren’t charmed by men who held full conversations with the air.

Dude snorted, fixing his glasses, making sure they were on his face correctly. ❝ That obvious ? Man, I thought these did a better job at hiding my eyes ! ❞ Not that he really cared. She smoked, so she wasn't going to clutch her pearls because his eyes were red.

He didn't consider that even most alcoholics & stoners were repulsed by crackheads.

Taking the pipe from her, Dude also nodded. ❝ Yeah, I smoke to get through life ! Haha ! ❞ The laugh cut itself off when he took a long, greedy hit from the pipe. Followed by minor coughing, as he was a seasoned vet. Having smoked for a very concerning amount of years. While he hacked up, the Demon chimed in again:

'Chicks don't like it when you're a miserable borderline-suicidal fuck either, moron.'

Shit, maybe the bastard had a point. After all, emo probably fell out of style for a reason. Women got tired of whiny men. Before Dude could worry much about that, Tom & Jerry brought the TV to life. Dude perked up instantly, hopping on the cushion beside her.

She grabbed a bag of cheetos and passed it to him. Not just any cheetos. Cheetos puffs. The type that gets stuck in your teeth but you can't help but pick it out even with someone looking." Ruined the movie. But eh. Classics always hit best."

She looked over to him. She never seen a redheaded man until she met him. Some part of her wanted to ask if his father was Irish and a midget so she could call him her 'lucky charm'. The thought made her giggle lightly as she popped another cheeto into her mouth. Watching the mouse go after the girl of his dreams. That moment made her think. What if that was them? More or less the two love birds no one expected? Maybe she could get this man on his feet. Not that she thought him bad. But he seemed...depressed somehow.

"You ever just think about moving away from here..?" She asked as she looked at him. "Get out of the rough life and move semplice nicer? Like Wyoming? It's nice up there. But the winters are very cold." She used to live there. Was the most quiet you could get outside of Alaska. The one going she hadn't thought of was money. How would he get there? She saw his trailer. It was a mess. Not that she judged she's seen messier. Her uncle was a horder. Nevertheless she thought. And thought. And thought.

"I never gave you my n-number!" She suddenly remembered. Her eyes working at ten years a minute as she slowly reached into her pocket and pulled out a piece of paper that had something not important on it and wrote her number down. Holding it out to him she raised a fake glass of wine as a cheers and laughed.

Man she felt fucking good. She was proud of herself. She managed to get a song done in a night and now she was running on fumes. Not that it was her first rodeo. But she definitely was a lightweight." You wanna smoke some weed-?" She asked with a hum. Her eyes narrowed deeply as she withdrew a small fire pink case from under her thigh and opened it. Within the case was a pipe, a torch, and a small circular case. And when she opened it. There was wax. Recently used possibly yesterday.

Dude shook himself out of it. Who was he to judge ? Just because she'd never had a boyfriend didn't mean she was posting to unhinged femcel forums. Maybe she was just waiting for the right guy. ( Yeah, like he's the right guy for anyone. ) Screw it, Dude pushed aside his worry. He was lonely, she was cute, he didn't want anything to ruin that.

❝ Well, babe . . . you may have picked the best candidate to be your first boyfriend, ❞ He tucked the number into his trench coat. wearing a smile with more confidence than he deserved. If his exes were here, they'd laugh themselves into early graves. They'd call him thoughtless, unreliable, broke, & terrible in bed. But why the hell would he tell Myra that ? His job right now was to sell himself, not scare her off.

Just when he thought the day couldn't get any better, she brought weed into the equation. God, maybe things were finally turning around for The POSTAL Dude Jr. ! ❝ Heheh, hell yeah ! ❞ Even though he was already blasted on an upper, Dude thought it'd be amusing for uppers & downers to wage war in his system.

He followed her inside, already picturing bliss, when a familiar but vexing voice crept in his head.

'I agree with her. Let's let the demons out. How about I come along, & we have a threesome ?'

Dude gritted his teeth. Of course, it was him. Who else would be in his head ? Admittedly, maybe drug-induced hallucinations, but no — that was definitely The Demon.

❝ Shut the fuck up, ❞ it slipped out loud even though he could've just said it in his head & Demon would've heard it just fine. Dude passed a sheepish glance at Myra. ❝ That was . . . er . . . to someone else. Not you. Swear. ❞

If he had a tail, it would be tucked between his legs right now. He obliged & locked the door, then awkwardly joined her on the couch. ❝ So . . . do you smoke often, or is this also a new thing for you ? ❞ He asked, his eyes surveying the house. Very nice. At least, as nice as a home in Paradise could be. It's certainly cozier than his shitty trailer.

Instant coughing fit.

Damn the stuff hit right but why does it have to make you cough so hard? She grabbed a bottle of water from the side table and chugged it after the smoke came out. Her eyes shifting as instant hazyness filled her mind. "I smoke to h-help me sleep. Almost every night I take a gummy to help drift. But this is for special occasions." She hummed as her eyes became lidded. Smiling wide as he spoke again.

"Oh? I found that pretty obvious when you walked up with red eyes~!" She chuckles. Her eyes practically turning red as they spoke. The one thing about weed is it always made anyone look like a demon. Luckily she was someone who enjoyed her job as a music maker. Violinist at its finest. Not as good as Lindsey Sterling but she will get there.

Her eyes wander the room and she passed the pipe to Dude and nodded." It's strong stuff. Put me on my ass before the accident!" She laughs. Her fingers gliding across the sofa for the TV remote and turned on one thing that she hadn't seen since she was younger. Tom and Jerry. The funny cartoon cat and mouse. It caught her attention instantly as she started laughing at the predicament the cat had gotten into.