I should point out that I do not own any of these stories. Negi Axel himself lived them, I am merely a vessel.

Negi Axel traveled east down the Timeless River on a homemade pontoon, the heavy feelings of failure on his mind. He had nothing but the clothes on his back, a banjo fashioned out of twigs and human hair, and the two remaining pages of his music notebook. Unfortunately, Negi did not know how to play the banjo, so it was utilized as a bailer when his vessel took on water.

Negi Axel began to compose a series of sea shanties, inspired by his newfound life as an unhygienic philanderer. At night he would gaze up at the stars, hoping to find his way on the path to fame and fortune. He sung himself a new shanty titled "Call Me Floater", and began to drift off to sleep. A passerby heard the guttural racket, and assumed someone was being attacked by a woodland creature. They chucked an empty bottle of booze at Negi Axel's pontoon. Negi was struck square on the forehead, and stumbled off of the pontoon before becoming unconscious.

He tried to clear the fog from his brain. He could feel the rushing tides try to steal the very breath out of his lungs. Negi felt a hand roughly drag him up from the water. A beautiful woman asked him in haste "Are you Negi Axel, the composer?" Negi was so struck by her beauty. She had silver hair that seemed to glow in the moonlight, piercing eyes, and a mouth agape in anticipation of his answer. She asked him again. "Yes, that's me," he heard himself say.

"I've been trying to track you down for weeks! I heard you play outside your home and I tried to follow you, but you were in such a rush. I heard from the other people on the river that no one could stand to hear you for more than a few minutes, so you were easy to find after that." She had a sheen to her eyes that showed her passion for whatever it was that she was trying to say.

"What do you want?" Negi Axel questioned tentatively.

"I own a local record label, and I would very much like to represent you."

Negi Axel couldn't believe what he was hearing. There was someone out there that cared for his art? He could almost feel his heart implode inside his chest. He know nothing about this woman, but he knew he had to be with her, forever. Negi Axel had been searching for something to complete him, and until now he thought it was his music. He knew now that it wasn't. This woman could complete him, and he had to know her.

"What is your name?" he asked. The silver haired woman opened her mouth to speak, and suddenly Negi Axel was jarred from his fantasy. It was four days after he had been hit with the bottle, and Negi found himself washed up on a strange shore. He was surrounded by his own refuse, yet he was more concerned with the strange woman. "This was all a dream?" he said aloud. Negi Axel began to weep, with passersby pointing and laughing at the display. Not everyday does one see a dirty green man crying on a beach.

Negi fled to the woods beyond the shore, trying in vain the find someone to help in his plight. He again pictured the silver haired beauty, and tears shot to his eyes. His beauty was but a dream. He paused at a clearing, gathering rocks and grass. Negi at times like these Negi thanked the fact that he stayed up at night, reading homemaking magazines under the covers. This reminded him of his father. He had come to think of the ashamed looks from his Father as love, and all the times he was called names like "Nancy" as terms of endearment. Every time his father punched him in the face, it brought Negi closer. He looked back with fond memories as he continued with his task. He fashioned a four poster canopy bed in no time at all. He had luxurious surroundings, yet he was lonely. He made a silver haired woman out of sticks and leaves. He cuddled close to her, and the emptiness subsided as he drifted to sleep.

Negi awoke the following morning, his body on fire. He looked down to his chest, and it was covered in red bumps, creating a sickly vomit color on his skin. He looked to the silver haired woman he had made. Poison oak. He sobbed and fled to the woods once more, destiny lapping at his heels.