Two very different lives, two very different souls and one thing in common: They both hate life...
And Sarah. They came to hate Sarah too.
Jareth, upon encountering an intriguing fellow from another dimension through his crystals powers, decided that he could use some halfway intelligent company to brood and ponder about life with. And how unfair it was, indeed. This man who had caught his attention had a morbid sense of fashion (skinny like a twig, messy hair and gothic attire) and tended to have the most invigorating conversations with himself about many aspects of what the feeble mind would call rubish. The man, to Jareth, was a philosopher. A nihilist with a superb sense of satire.
His name was Johnny C.
Nny for short.
And he was a motherfucking nut-job killer.
Johnny at first didn't mind being transported to an alternate dimension. The voices stopped following him. But much to his lamentation he discovered that his delusions might have just popped out of his damn brain and into life. Though, he quickly understood that this could not be; he didn't remember having delusions of goblins or dwarves or fucking fairies. However there was still one atrocious last figment - he now hoped belonged in the dippest pit of the black hole the nightmares his subconscious came out from - he had yet to meet. And he presented himself so pretentious, so unnervingly effeminate and so distressingly knowledgable of his murderous habits, as well as his existential crisis. And how rude had that been, to mention his private thoughts before even giving his name.
''Hello, my fine fellow.'' Jareth had said, all insidious smiles and hands on hips. ''Welcome to the Goblin Kingdom. I'm its King and i've summoned you here for a nice friendly chat. No knives if you don't mind.''
Johnny eyed him suspiciously, his eyeballs nearly popping out and red veins pulsing on a microscopical level. ''I must be fucked. Yes,'' His eyes wandered to a sparkly crotch with morbid fascination. ''Very, direly fucked. Where is Mr. Satan? Did he do this?''
His tone seemed so polite that Jareth almost considered answering the out-of-nowhere question, but realized that his dishevelled guest was not even speaking with him. His gaze roamed around, never paying more than two seconds of his attention to anything and avoiding at all costs to move from his place. His feet were starting to dig holes on the ground, so as to keep steady. Jareth couldn't have known that the bloody nightmare of many condemned to Hell was more disturbed by his magical land than he could have felt while wandering through the streets of Hell with its Ruler as guide. Everything was too sparkly, too peachy, too tranquil and perfect. Johnny roared inside his head that it was all a fucking lie. As if it weren't enough with humanity and their shit, now the universe itself had dedicated a speck of its unlimited reach to mess with him on an interdimesional level.
TBC?
A/N: Yes. I don't know where this came from. I guess i was itchy to write something crossover and suddenly this came to mind. I love that psychotic Nny and Jareth. I have yet to come up with the rest, but if you think it has some tiny piece of potential just let me know. I'll do what i can:) I find myself being adventurous and even though i'm working on my first long-shot at the moment, i thought it'd be amusing for these two damned souls to share their introspections on love and life being a bitch. Support a wanna-be writer with hyperactive fingers.
So, feedback is love!:D