The Girl Who Plays With Shadows
Introduction
As the cab pulls over at the sidewalk closest to the apartment block, you pull your jacket closer, and try to stop yourself from shaking violently when the door is pulled open for you, and the cab driver goes off around the back to presumably remove your suitcases.
Grabbing your bag and pulling it onto your shoulder, you step out of the cab and sigh, your breath visible from the cold, forming a thin cloud of white that reminds you of how she would smoke continuously.
You remind yourself it was one of the best decisions of your life to move out of the home you shared together - you needed to move on. You have to focus on your career now, or you will never get anywhere in the human world - your status on Alternia is nigh recognized anymore anyway. You hate that.
Humans are so god damn fussy - and that's coming from you!
"I have to warn you, miss," The voice cuts you off from your thoughts, and you turn your head to look at the cab driver. His voice was gruff, and he was practically a skeleton almost completely hidden face-wise in greying hairs. It feels to you like humans age very fast, and you add it to your list of how they are the minor race. Or, you would think like that if you were somewhat like a friend (perhaps better addressed as acquaintance), .
No, you hardly care positive or negative about the race. You simply wish for acceptance, but you are not afraid to fight when needs be.
"Yes?" You question, arms crossed over your chest as if that would protect you from the freezing cold gusts of wind. It must be in the minuses by now, you figure. Human weather was already pathetically chilly, it did not need to be winter.
His face looks sullen, and you make your way over to collect your cases, you were already having a bad day and you would rather not make it worse with whatever harsh comment this man had to say. Apparently racism hadn't completely died out, despite the troll race having already lived on Earth for several sweeps by now.
"Stay away from apartment 105, the girl in there is probably someone you'd like to avoid." His hands retract from gripping the suitcases with unnecessary force, and you take the liberty of glancing over to the block, and replying when you start to wonder whether you should have just left it.
"I would like to gratefully accept your warning, and make sure I avoid 105 completely, but unfortunately that is the number scrawled down underneath the directions - perhaps you would like to explain your worry? One girl is hardly an issue - unless they hold constant house parties and find themselves under the influence to find drugs a necessity to consume. I would rather it weren't plastered all over the headlines when I further my career." You state, brow furrowing because the change of expressions on his features as you speak is starting to concern you.
What harm could one girl possibly do?
"I don't think you understand - in her case, drugs and house parties would probably be far better," He clasps his gloved hands together and rubs, huffing out a sigh. Apparently everyone was feeling the cold.
"You have piqued my curiosity," You make sure to enunciate your words clearly as per usual - often your accent can be a struggle to understand to humans, and you figure he didn't catch the part of you desiring an explanation, "please do tell me what it is about this girl that has you worried for my safety."
Almost as if it were bad luck, you hear the static of the radio back in the cab, and a half-muffled voice of a rather young sounding woman requesting the cab driver to respond.
A part of you wonders whether that woman is concerned for him being so close to the apartment block of the girl in 105, or whether he has another job he must be attending.
One thing is for sure - and you decide you will not feel too much irritation when he speaks the words you expected to come.
"I better go an' answer that. Be wary miss - and if anythin' happens, call the police a few blocks away, and not the bastards around the corner. Stay away from the troll with the red eyes. Hopefully when you get the career you're lookin' for, you can leave as soon as possible. Strange things happen around 'ere, and it's all because o' her."
And he walks past you, but you catch the glance from the corner of your eye that he gives you, it almost makes you feel threatened, but you can feel the lipstick container pressing against your thigh in the left pocket of your red jeans, and you know that he would not stand a chance.
Still.
Strange things?
Odd for a human to say given the planet was living side-by-side with an alien race.
Though they had coexisted since the beginning of time - well, other than the fact you are no Scientist but are pretty sure that Alternia existed before Earth, but hell, you aren't picky on the details.
Though other than the trolls existing alongside the humans now, nothing odd had exactly ever happened before - sure, the humans were still discovering the abilities, traits, and history of the troll race - but it wasn't exactly like some other super amazing spectacle had occurred.
Hm.
Maybe her knowledge was lacking in areas - maybe there was something, or a few things in New York that had been a shocker to everyone.
You hardly care - you're not sure why but it just doesn't interest you that much.
Shrugging your shoulders when you hear the cab door slam shut behind you, you grasp the suitcases tighter and begin to drag them in the direction you double-checked.
Straight up, turn left, turn right.
Absolutely easy to memorise.
It was literally just a quick walk - though you had managed to cut it that little bit shorter by heading through a rather huge park.
It was probably a mistake given the amount of small human gr-children that circle you, come up to you, tug at the bottom of your jacket and blubber in a very bad attempt at the human language.
You try not to scowl at their idiocy, and smile as sweetly as possible, that's as much as you can do, given the suitcases taking the use of your hands away.
No hair ruffling or pats on the shoulders - sorry, children.
When you get inside of the building, and check yourself in with the woman behind the counter - giving your name, where you will be staying, and the money you were requested to deposit (now only half price given you were sharing with another), she gives you the second sullen expression of the day.
Apparently not all apartment towers had someone constantly at the rather dusty counter when people were to come and stay. But in this case, it seemed that were a thing.
You think back to the girl, and you can't help the fascination that builds up inside of you.
"If you have any problems, feel free to call the help desk at any time. There is an emergency call button next to the far window in the main room if you find it absolutely necessary, or find yourself in danger. From robbers, fire, anything else. Enjoy your stay."
"Thank you. I am sure I will." That doesn't seem to go down well with her, given the glare she shoots your way. Perhaps she thinks you are somewhat acquainted or friendly with the girl in 105. It makes you want to laugh, but you decide against that.
Her attitude reminds you of your old friend Karkat, and the polite smile you give is more for the sake of remembering him, and not for her.
'Enjoy your stay' sounded sour to you, but you pass it off and accept the key, shove it into the pocket of your long jacket, grasp your suitcases again, and begin to head in the direction of the elevator, eyes scanning the little information stand until you find the floor you're meant to be staying on.
The 6th floor, alright.
When the elevator doors slide open, you pull your luggage inside with you, scowling at the tight fit, and manage to reach over to press '6' on the pad of numbers.
When the doors slide shut and the elevator rattles a little before coming to life, you find yourself a little hesitant.
It's an awfully slow journey, and after a few minutes you find it in yourself to examine the roof of the elevator - cob webs linger in the corners alongside one spider that looks particularly poisonous, though luckily such a poison did not affect your race whatsoever. In fact, you would probably not even feel the bite, or the tiny fangs pierce your skin. Besides, you are not exactly afraid of spiders, you are simply not very fond of them, and if people could dislike particular things due to bad memories, then surely you were allowed to do the same thing as well.
The bulb is flickering, and a few moths flutter around the light - you cannot say you lack fondness for those creatures, though, and you smile a little at how silly they are.
Which, in turn, makes you feel rather silly, so you wipe the expression off your features and turn your gaze away from the ceiling to examine the walls.
They're scratched an alarming amount - you wonder just a little bit about whether there's a reason for this, or if it were simply drunken teenagers falling about a lot one night or trying to perform some form of criminal damage.
Though there aren't any names, symbols, insults, or dates etched into the metal, as was quite usual on buses and the lark.
Another alarming spectacle, which you try to push to the back of your mind.
Soon enough your fame from Alternia will pick itself back up again, and in turn, you will have the money in no time to god damn abscond and find yourself a far better (and safer) place to stay.
God it's so unhygienic already it makes you cringe.
You hope the room at least is better kept - hell, by this point you hardly even care whether the girl inside is a lunatic or not, as long as she is sanitary and keeps everything tidy, you will just ignore her existence and go about your business with nil communication.
If they wanted you to keep your distance that much - they would have probably declined the opportunity of staying with her whatsoever.
Unless they were cruel and in deep need of money, or had to fill in a space for whatever reason else.
You cringe because you figure that's such a high possibility that you suddenly lack the feeling of any sort of safety, other than the weapon you keep on you at all times.
A threat to a troll, when they are just a humanoid?
Are the humans forgetting the extra strength trolls have, or is she really that bad?
xoxo
Luckily it wasn't too far a walk to the room, and you're knocking on the old wooden door in no time, breathing a sigh of relief because despite how old and worn down this place is, the heating works just fine, and you can totally live with that factor, even if it seems like the elevator will collapse at any given moment, and that there's cob webs lingering in corners on the ceiling, and roof of the elevator that bring memories that are rather painful and you wish they would just god damn leave.
You had come here for a new start, and so far you were being treated like the main character in a horror film.
Sighing and pulling off your black leather gloves as you wait, you wonder to yourself why exactly you do not just use your own key and let yourself in.
But then again, this was your first time becoming acquainted with the person you will be sharing with, and it's probably best to leave a good and polite impression - even if it does turn out she's a raving lunatic.
A part of you wishes that you had the money to buy a place of your own, but you don't, because a certain someone went out and spent all of your hard earned cash with her damn gambling problem.
When you are about to knock again, the door is pulled open, and your hand is left lingering in the air when you realize oh Jesus Christ she is very very pretty. The strong scent of lavender fills your nostrils and it is not exactly an uninvited scent, and is definitely a one you could get used to in no time.
"Good evening," She greets, and you notice a slight French twist to her accent that for some reason attains you a small lump in your throat and the tiniest widening of your eyes.
"I presume you are the one and only fashion queen Miss Kanaya Maryam that the landlord was oh-so-polite about informing me of. Please, do come in."