**Bet you thought I was gone forever, huh? No, I'm just dead from all of the college work that is being forced upon me... ugh. Can't wait until summer. Anyway, here is a new story. I hope to have it finished by March! You can read more about what made me decide to write this on the deviantArt upload. 'Til then, read on and enjoy!
Oh, and if you don't like things such as WaluigiXLuigi, test tube babies, or any other homosexual pairings or similar sciency stuff, then don't read or comment on this story. I'm not forcing you to read this, you know.
Anyway, for those who are still reading, enjoy! **
There is no such thing as normal. Not where I live.
In my world, you're unique, and that's that. You are not like anybody else, as you are given something to make you stand out from the rest of the crowd. When you stand out, you appeal to people, and when you appeal to people, you have become a part of a social circle, and when you become a part of a social circle you become even more appealing to others in different social circles where new social circles are formed.
With all that standing out, you're bound to catch someone's fancy. I mean that in a way of lust, someone wants to be your partner, be it a few days or for the rest of your life.
The sad thing is, from the start, you're programmed to have a love interest in a specific person.
I've seen the labs, the test tubes, the scientists in pink and frilly lab coats using pink syringes to drop in certain shades of pink liquids that will make all sorts of embryos grow up into completely different people. Those groups given certain shades of pink are supposed to be attracted to those treated with other certain shades of pink.
Pink. Pink. Pink. The Toadstool family line has an obsession with pink.
Maybe it sticks around to symbolize the first demented Queen Toadstool who decided to even try such a thing – growing human beings from a lot of cells and chemicals spun around in glass bottles and grow in slimy pink sludge until they pull them out by their heads using tongs. You can hear the "newborn" crying from a mile away, as if it wonders what the hell it just went through to become an actual human.
I'm one of the few.
I'm one of the few that were born naturally – straight from the woman's womb into a world where a queen can control who you are with just a few drops of bitter chemicals.
I have lived all of these years without any social interaction from this utopia, instead I watched from the sidelines. I watched as people made their social circles, forming other social circles, before finally falling in love and running off to satisfy their airy heads with intercourse in the backrooms of bars.
I have snuck into the queen's castle multiple times, I know now how to make a human from a tube of glass, and I know how to have the creations killed off without anyone else giving as much as a sigh about them.
The queen has made her people perfect, so perfect they show no signs of aging. Yet, when they stick around for longer than she likes them to, they could fall dead at the snap of her fingers, dragged off by men in pink jumpsuits, and yet all the people will do is stare after and shrug it off.
I have also seen the queen herself: blonde haired, blue eyed, fair skinned, waltzing around her lavish palace in a pink dress that she never seems to take off. She has remained young for countless years, nay a wrinkle on her face or a gray hair in her locks.
Those people she kills? They're the source of that youth.
She stands there as the body of her creation is sent through a grinder, her lipstick stained lips sneering as they hand her a fancy glass full of skin flakes mixed with strawberries and wine. She downs it like it's her lifeline (well, you could say it is her lifeline), flipping through a list of names of her "people" to decide who has had a long enough life.
I've heard her say that recreation is disgusting, a man violating a woman just to make a child is a completely different world to her. She thinks that people born like that are inferior and should be killed immediately. She thinks that if they are made from the lab they are smarter.
They probably are. Hell, they can live for fifty years and still look so young.
She also thinks that everyone born naturally is the same – same as in personality and looks. That's why her lab is so successful, she's making a utopia of people who are all completely different in every single way yet get along so well it's like a child's cartoon world come to life (I've barely seen those, by the way, children's cartoons have been banned to public viewing ever since I was five).
And with this all-different-yet-getting-along deal, people still fall in love multiple times and cheat, backstab their friends, do anything they can to ruin each other socially. Yet, there is always a smile followed by, "I'm sorry," and, "It's alright." Then, tada, they're friends again before Oliver runs off with Miriam one more time.
I'm now in my twenties, and I find myself attracted to a short, stubby man with an Italian accent, with bright blue eyes that shine brightly no matter who he talks to. Yet, he's been abandoned and cheated on like crazy, probably more than anyone else in the town.
I like how he still manages to keep going on, being cute and strong as he is even though he's the only one who can make tears form in his eyes.
I want to get him out of here.
I want to get him out of this world.
