Clear.
The snowette was currently strolling through the middle of nowhere, reflecting back on the short conversation he had with Aoba.
Confused; was the word to describe his mental state. Aoba never really cared for that sort of thing. In actuality he liked seeing people suffer. But he decided it was best not to ponder over it and thought it was best not to question.
Clear stared at the bag of drugs in his black gloved hand, gripping it tightly so the tiny bag wouldn't get caught in the strong autumn winds.
He knew that Aoba did suffer from massive depression and anxiety after alphas forced he and Clear into the Toue family. But now, Aoba does seem perfectly fine or at least looks as if he's handling it, unlike Clear who struggles with these problems.
'Maybe, I should try a little of it. Just to see if it works or not...' He thought a little considerably of the drugs.
"Tch...but still.." He let out a little frustrated sigh.
"What would Aoba-san know?..." He questioned without really asking, shoving the bag into his jeaned pockets.
Really. It was none of Aoba's business of how he felt. Clear didn't really like him anyways. He's become pretty egotistic since Toue started tinkering with his brain. As if Aoba wasn't already a bitch enough already...
Face buried in a plaided black scarf and hands stuffed in fleece peacoat pockets, the quiet atmosphere around him really relaxed him. Relaxation: a feeling he hasn't felt in a while. Aoba and the gang really keeps him tense and stressed. This walk was very much needed.
Tall trees casted large dark rugged shadows as leafless and long branches pointed out towards him like jagged claws. Hoots of owls, leaves scraping against concrete, and the soft nippy whisper of the autumn air wind created the quiet symphony of nature as he placed a black booted foot one in the front of the other. The light of the moon enveloped his figure casting a shadow of his following figure; it was very eerie but a peaceful environment at most.
'Honestly,' he thought. 'It's always such a far walk.' However, he couldn't have spoke soon enough as the first place he'd seen in miles had appeared just over the hill's dark horizon. Relieved, his pace of walking turned into a jog, the buckles on his boots jingled and clacked with every step he took on the dirt road, the house getting larger and closer until he reached it.
His pink eyes grazed over the enormous mansion-like house. The house was beaten up, rotten and dusty like it had been there for years ; in which it had. The windows all were damaged. Some were boarded up with wooden planks and others were just left as it is. The mansion lacked any hope of life, it was dead. Really dead.
But, even so, this was Clear's home.
Surprisingly enough, this house used to be where he and his Father had lived before his passing.
Taking his iPod out, he selected 'Incompetence- TG' and let the music play through his headphones into his ears. Clear reached for the double door's handle and entered the pitch black house. He stepped onto broken window glass that resided on the dirty tiled floor: Cracks and crackles echoing throughout the house.
There really was no use in keeping this filthy awful house but Clear had always told himself that he'd be able to fix it up and really make it a nice place to live, (and he was a hoarder) But, he just haven't had the time to do so, y'know? Music business keeps you going. Also, Clear's "real" home resided in Oval Tower, which is much nicer and cleaner and free than this old bucket of bolts.
"I should clean later... " He said to himself as he shrugged off his pea coat jacket and hung it on the coat rack. He then took off his boots and scarf, leaving his heavy footwear by the door and scarf hung with the coat.
'It's dark.' He thought, while starting to flick on all the lanterns he had placed there a while ago. They were a good replacement to actual lights. The lack of electricity the house had had didn't bother him. Albeit, He did have the money to pay for electricity, he didn't want anything concerning this house showing up on Toue's bank accounts and bills, because the last thing that he had wanted, was for Toue or the others finding out about this place. This rusty old mansion is the only thing that's left of Clear's past existence. If he had gotten this place taken from him, he might as well be a live doll.
As if he already wasn't one...
The robot walked over to the family room, plopping down onto the couch dust flying from creases and crevices of it. Clear scrunched his nose and coughed, fanning the dust away with his gloved hand. Squinting, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the tiny bag Aoba had given him, placing it on the coffee table in front of him. He leaned forward, his elbows leaning on his knees and his chin resting in his palms.
Rosé eyes studying the bag, teeth biting the inside of his cheek. He quickly blinked thrice and a red light appeared from the irises of his eyes. It scanned over the tiny bag, as Clear's processors tried to search for any evidence on what the white substance may be.
This was a new feature that Toue had given him and his brothers not to long ago. It was a identifying system that was placed inside their processors. All they had to do was blink 3 times and let the clever machinery do its work. Quite impressive, no?
The red light flashed on the tiny bag, signaling that results were found.
"Cocaine. A drug derived from coco that humans use illegally as a stimulant." He read out loud from the processor in his mind. His childlike voice echoing throughout the empty house.
Even before the scan process, he knew what the drug was the moment Aoba had given it to him. Also, Clear was made a human monitoring robot, if he didn't know things like this, he'd really be failing his job. Especially being in the music business, you'll definitely see this drug passing around town.
His processor nitpicked itself, finding more information about the drug.
He spoke out loud, "Cocaine is a "selfish drug," where you love yourself when on it. Its an expensive drug. It's typically $40 per gram, but that can vary depending on the quality and access of the drug in the area." He then, blinked thrice again to shut off the scanner and then looked at the bag again.
"I see..." He spoke quietly, "it does sound like, help. But it probably won't work on me, being so I am a robot, not human..." He spoke down to himself.
Clear didn't know this, but he was human from the day he was created. Yeah, he may be made up of nails and screws, but, he was more human that any of these people who walked Earth. He felt more feelings than any other humans, he could cry, laugh, smile, and frown.
Though he didn't have a heart, he could love things passionately. Though he didn't have a brain, he thought of amazing things. The best part about it was, there are many humans that doesn't have the chance to love or think, so, being Clear, was God's blessing...
Clear picked up the bag. "But it wouldn't hurt to try..."
Ah, there you go. His curious nature is getting the best of him. Moments like these, is when you can sense the danger behind it, but for Clear, he wanted to be more human than anything, so at least, doing a drug that humans take would make him feel more human. Taking a chance wouldn't hurt. It was drug that could help you love yourself, of course he's going to do it. Maybe if he felt better about himself, he'd be happier. That's what he thought.
He took off his glove, revealing a pale hand with manicured painted black nails. Opening the bag, he poured a bit of its contents into his palm and then placed it on the table. A frown formed on his lips, "Here goes nothing..." He brought his hand to his nose.
His index finger pressured his left nostril down, closing it, as his right nostril hovered over the white powder.
He inhaled deeply.