#breadstick boy

“Got any seven’s?” Carol asks glancing up at Breadstick Boy. “No. I swear I don’t you French asshole.” Breadstick Boy says flicking through his deck with a bored looking face, clearly not amused muttering Italian to himself before letting out a deep sigh and grabbing a card from the center deck finding its a seven and flicking it towards the French woman across from him

They play until they finish the round, Carol rightfully winning. “Well that was quite the round don’t you think my Italian ami. What do you say to a little snack, i’m feeling quite famished myself how about you?” Carol asks smiling sweetly while breadstick boy collects the deck of cards placing them in his satchel.

“Carol, my friend, we’re ghosts, we don’t need to eat. Plus I’m not hungry.”

“Well even though we don’t need to you ha-“ 

She’s cut off suddenly when a teenager wearing dirty used-to-be-white skinny jeans and a Panic! At The Disco hoodie crashes onto the table breaking it before bolting upright and exclaiming “Holy shit! That was a fucking rush and I’m suddenly dizzy. Shit.”

Breadstick Boy and Carol both shriek in their native languages, Carol tossing her tea cup into the air in a panic and Breadstick jumping up slightly. Both ghosts scream for another moment before clutching their chests and breathing heavily trying to steady their heart beats.

-==~~+~~==-

Circus manages to a table, of all things she crashes into its a table why couldn’t she have an easier landing like the last jump? She sits there slightly dazed while the ghosts to her left and right regain their ghostly breaths. It’s a moment before her vision clears enough to note that she actually back in the land of the dead. The moments following what phantom would consider a grand idiotic entrance are very awkward to say the least, lots of awkward eye contact, it’s another moment before she says “Hey! So um yeah, I’m back. I’d like my sister please.” She watches Breadstick and Carols faces shape into ones of un-amusement. They look at her for a moment before Carol simply states “welcome back. You shouldn’t be here. Also, I’m afraid we’re not in the positions to give her back to you dear.”

“Oh. Well. I guess we’re gonna have to fucking waltz are way there and stab a few bitches.” Circus says grinning like an idiot.

“N-no. We’re definitely not going to do that cause your going home.” Carol states.

“Oh ha ha. Your funny. Listen here you asshole I’m not leaving until I get my sister back, in one piece might I add, so why don’t you two so kindly take me to her?”

Breadstick continues staring slowly eating a breadstick and eyeing up circus once again. “Alright. Get your shit together and let’s go.” He says turning on his heel, grabbing his breadstick basket and proudly marching off.

“Wait what? NO, Breadstick unless you have a death wish I suggest we just send her home!” Carol calls out.

Circus still standing next to Carol places her hand on carols shoulder simply stating “your all already dead. There’s no harm. Now let’s go my French witch.”

“I’m not a witch.” The French woman mutters to herself following Breadstick and Circus clearly not amused whatsoever.

-==~~+~~==-

Phantom had some how managed to doodle all over the wall. Literally it’s a bunch of light grey and red. Most of it quite happy. She’d been thinking while doing this and came to the conclusion that Circus, like the occasional idiot she is, stupidly spent a little too long in her room and the depressive aura held within phantoms void got to her head. She also managed to come to the conclusion that Breadstick had cheated at all those card games they’d played just cause he wanted the right to say he was the best, well jokes on him he’s clearly never played against Wild Bill Hickok who’d literally fucking died playing poker in a bar in Deadwood, South Dakota. She sits there tapping the pen against her knee considering setting them up against each other if she ever gets out, Wild Bill will probably win, Breadstick is good at poker, but Wild Bill has the Dead Man’s Hand.

She continues sitting there flipping through the death records of everyone who’s has horrid gruesome or utterly pointless deaths in history, basically everyone who’s died, its organized in years so she flips through till she get to 2016 once again reading Breadsticks file and trying to figure out the little Italians actual name. She will get it, even if she has to take a bread stick to the heart. If she can take gun shots, knives, scalpels and god knows what else a breadstick will not stop her. Nor will a cell of fucking stone.

-==~~+~~==-

Fandom: Comedy was needed so I gave comedy. Somewhat. Funny thing I didn’t need to google anything on Wild Bill cause I knew it already. I like ghost stories, they’re tragic and all that shit. But yeah how’s your day? *sips coffee*

Spirits and Pain (part 5)

Breadstick Boy and Carol sit at a small table playing a classic game of Go Fish, childish yes, but who says ghosts can’t have fun centuries after they died? they have WiFi in the land of the dead after all. Breadstick looks up from his deck before saying “got any eights carol?”

The French woman glances up from her deck a sweet smile across her face, “No, go fish Breadstick. Go fish.”

Breadstick Boy leans toward the pile of cards in the center of the table just as carol lowers her deck for a moment, he catches an eight in her hand. He jumps up from his seat bumping the table and exclaims “CAZZATE!” He yells at carol who flinches kicking the table on accident, “You do have an eight!” He continues.

“Well your seeing things you small Italian boy. I do not have an eight so kindly faire chier, thank you.” The French woman smiles once again only receiving angry Italian yelling which she can only assume is a string of cuss words before getting hit in the throat with a breadstick unfortunately not a fresh one, she falls back out of her chair, her deck falling to the floor revealing the eight card.

Breadstick Boy laughs before going to retrieve the card only getting a throwing star to his chest, in a puff of light blue glittering smoke he dies.

Carol pulls out her pocket watch and watched the little black needle tick by with every second watching for an entire minute before putting it away again and standing up, in a puff of blue smoke Breadstick reappears looking fairly pissed.

“I call a rematch you lying asshole.” He says arms folded before snapping his fingers resetting everything.

-==~~+~~==-

Phantom forces herself up off the floor fishing through her pockets for a red marker until she pulls one out of her jacket pocket, why she carries markers she will never know but she just does. She places herself in front of the wall uncapping the marker and placing it on the other end staring at the wall before simply closing her eyes and just rolling with it and letting her hand and emotions take over. She sits there doing that for god knows how long before opening her eyes, feeling tired like always, and pulling her red permanent marker away from the wall just staring at what she did. Across the area she drew on is so many different things, fires, dead bodies, items used for torture and killing on the left while the right is just a cascade of cute little flowers and butterflies, dogs, cats, little hearts sweet things, but in the middle below both is an array of words, two different paragraphs next to each other. She reads over one paragraph finding it consists of more exciting good things, reading over the other she finds that one consists of more depressing things. There’s a small amount of space below it all, she lies down on her stomach and draws two little people holding each other close.

She continues doodling on the walls while silently singing until she gets bored, somehow managing to silently sing the entire Black Parade album by My Chemical Romance through all the way, not missing one verse from The End to Blood. God she needs a life and some hot chocolate. She sits and stares at the wall fiddling with her lighter, it’s torture to her being locked in a brick cell and not have anyone to talk to other than herself. Just plain torture. Maybe someone will bail her out?

-==~~+~~==-

Circus sprints at full speed from these basically jogging zombies, well most are walking slow as shit but she’s not taking a chance slowing her pace. She’d like to keep her brain, it’s very valuable. She continues running slowly staring to trip over her own feet ‘god, I need to exercise more. This is basically torture. Right when I get back I’m so playing Just Dance until I pass out from the physical pain that is dancing.’ She thinks to herself trying not to face plant and smash her skull on the dangerous grass that lies below her feet. She looks at her surroundings a forest is to her left and an old house to her right, she looks behind her and screams as the zombies slowly, very slowly, catch up. In a panic she bolts towards the house, which wasn’t as far as she expected and slams into the door which is locked? Great well at least someone’s alive.

She bangs on the door breathing heavily until it opens and she falls in scooting back. She’s greeted by a fifteen year old with short brown hair pulled back, a hoodie, skinny jeans, sneakers, with glasses a small crack on the right lense and a knife at her side while another person with long curly hair, a t-shirt with thin jean jacket, skinny jeans, and a small backpack, and round glasses, both living people, the curly haired girl stands in the door way knife in hand just in case and slamming the door shut locking it tight. Both girls look at circus somewhat skeptically yet somehow calmly, she won’t question, they help her up the curly haired girl speaking up first simply saying “hey, I’m Grace this is Abigail, your alive which is good so welcome. What do you want?” She says her tone slightly worried. The other girl, Abigail, pipes up saying “Grace that’s fucking rude. She’s not here to rob us. If she was she wouldn’t have been running like a monkey on drugs.” Circus stares at the pair both look fifteen, Grace looks a little skeptical and slightly bewildered while Abigail seems to take visitors, or rather surprised monkeys on drugs, very lightly, and not to mention both look like they’ve seen some shit. They stand in awkward silence for a moment before circus says “so would you guys mind if I opened a portal to another universe in your what I’m assuming is your front hall?” Grace takes a step back pulling Abigail along with her, a look that says ok your fucking insane on her face. “I’m not insane I swear. I’m just trying to get to my sister is all.” Circus says putting her hands up hoping not to get stabbed. Grace gives a skeptical look before sighing deeply and saying “alright. Just don’t break anything.” Both girls smile brightly, wish circus luck before walking upstairs discussing some sort of battle plan. She once again waves her wand like a conductors stick three times before flicking it, a couple seconds go by before a white and baby blue swirl appears once again opening to god knows where, she leaps through crashing into a table sending cards and breadsticks flying before hearing strings of French and Italian cussing.

-==~~+~~==-

Fandom: oh boy! This was hell to write I might have gotten a tiny bit of writers block and then accidentally deleted the whole thing on accident. Oof. But hey it’s out now so here you go.