#dsaalice

Meg paced back and forth in her room, waiting for the knock that would mean Alice's arrival. Eros was sleeping in her arms, but she knew that he would be waking soon. She stopped her pacing and began to bounce from foot and sing a quiet Greek lullaby to the baby boy. His hair had gotten longer since the last time she had seen him. She brushed the black locks out of his eyes and kissed him gently on the forehead. 

She had been nervous at first to ask Alice for her help, but she needed it. Especially with the accusations of murder. Although she was mad at those people, she would not have killed them. Meg was a generally angry person, but she would never take someone else's life unless hers was threatened. And that was still a relatively new thing for her. Ever since she had someone that she had to actually take care of, she actually felt a need to stay alive. In the beginning of her career here, she had tried to forget everything. She had not wanted to remember the fact that she had been forced, by her mother and father, away from her child and into a school on board a ship filled with people who did not want to be there just as much as she. 

I need your help with something.

Toulouse had kept a watch over Alice, as she kept vigil over his body, sitting next to her, his hand over hers, even though she couldn't feel it. "I love you, too, Alice." He answered her, even though she couldn't hear him, "I need you too. I know you need me. I love you."

He watched her as she tied her hair ribbon around his finger for a ring. He wanted to cry, but he wasn't able to. He wrapped his arms around her, and rested his cheek against her head, like they used to. He waited until they dragged Alice away to rest. And he was there when she was killed, pounding his ethereal fists on the killer, sobbing as he tried to protect Alice. She died quickly, though, at least he could be thankful for that.

The next sight startled him, Nutella was out and all over the counters. With a small frown, he walked over and around the counter to see where the trail would leave him. The melody quickly died in his head as he stared in horror at the body in front of him. The Nutella streaming from the kid’s mouth left him in shock as their glazed eyes stared up at the ceiling.

Toulouse knew he was dead. He could see his body being loaded onto the stretcher. It wasn't a big surprise. How could he not be dead? Someone had poured bleach down his throat, choked him with a rag, and cut his throat. So, it hadn't been the best way to die... it'd taken fucking forever. But he was determined to be okay. He had to be okay. Who would protect Alice from this psycho if he couldn't stay alive to be there, and tell who the killer was.

But now...

Toulouse had never had a problem maintaining a stash. With his barely-there mother and his own bank account and income from his art, that was the easy part. The hard part was finding someone to actually smoke with. Meg usually was game, but she wasn't answering his texts. Alice wasn't as fond of weed as she was acid. He just felt like chillin' though, maybe eating some atrocity of a sandwich that looked like it came from an episode of "Scooby Doo". And to his knowledge, not too many people around here enjoyed grass. Maybe Tiger Lily, but she seemed to be a handsy one.

Toulouse tucked a fresh blunt in his pocket and set off to explore, looking for someone to smoke it with. There had to be someone who would. He wandered through the halls of the hotel, stopping occasionally to ask a friendly face if they would join them. However polite or rude their negative answer was, he just grinned and moved on. There would be someone willing somewhere along the line. Finally, though, Toulouse did run out of people to ask.

He plopped himself down on a bench out of the way, and rested his elbows on his knees while he thought. So he hadn’t made any new friends. He shrugged that off. He didn’t mind. He liked the friends he had.  And it was nice to share a joint, but he didn’t need to. He could always paint. Maybe he’d do that. Call room service, get high, and paint, since his roomie was out for the day.

Something small and white and familiarly furry nosed around the corner and up the hall to his foot. The little white rabbit stood up, little pink nose twitching as he looked at Toulouse. “Hey, Bubblebutt.” Toulouse greeted, scratching the small creature’s ears. “What’re you doing out?” Probably, Toulouse guessed, either Alice or Lilo got too excited going someplace and forgot to check the door, releasing their pet to the wilds of the Cambodian hotel. Toulouse scooped Alice’s friend up and set off to return him.

John had never seen anything anything quite so spectacular in his entire life. Sure he'd seen skyscrapers and building that had been built with the luxuries of millions of dollars, but there was something significantly more impressive and valuable about the carved statues that lined the bridge before him. He moved in a slow walk to gaze at the one before him, studying the worn features that once had been chiseled sharply onto the giant's face. It was mind-blowing to him to think that these had been created God knows how many years ago, solely out of manpower and solely out of a hunk of stone.

It was a couple of minutes before he moved on, walking along the line and taking in his surroundings. Not only were the carved giants remarkable, but so were the carved gates and the general environment were as well. There were a few other small groups of people out admiring the palace of Angkor Thom, but the murmur from the spread out groups was barely audible.

I told you I was devious! Did you enjoy my creeper letter? I love you, baby, and I miss you so badly. We're back at sea, and surprise surprise, I'm a little seasick. Houston was hell though. So hot. Made me miss California even more, though. And why shouldn't I? My heart is currently there with her fluffy white pet.

I'm glad that you like Joe! He sounds nice, and that's sweet of Charlotte not to want to steal our thunder. I can't wait to meet Joe, and see Charlotte on a better term than we last did. 

Nothing exciting here, just same old, same old. I miss you? Did I already say that? Well, I do. Hurry home to me, darling.

Je t'aime,