(WARNING! One of these next parts is slightly NSFW. It is but a minor change, but I still advise those who are sensitive to these things to take caution while reading. And also a warning that the story will probably go progressively downhill from here, in terms of more NSFW, so from here I am marking it M. But this does not mean that it will be everywhere at every point! I just feel it fitting right now to mark it and to warn for only a few future instances. Very well, and continue your reading! Again, reviews are greatly accepted and encourage, even! Happy Collegestuck!)
It just so happened that right at that moment, a soaked Karkat was trekking in the lot behind the local Kroger, a very bad place to be. He'd seen a couple of guys up ahead, wondering what they were doing out in the rain. He called out to them as he approached.
"Hey, uh… I'm new around here and I was wondering if-?"
"Who're you and what do you want." A guy with a cape and dangerous violet eyes cut in. Before he answered, he looked over the group. A half-naked, half-conscious guy against the wall, a tall guy who was smoking something that smelled terrible and wore paint on his face, the dude in the cape, and a boy in a wheelchair with his hood pulled over his face.
"I was wondering if you could tell me where the local Panera is located?" Answered Karkat agitatedly. The smoking guy raised his hand slowly, his dark, grubby fingers pointing to a small shopping center down the way. As Karkat turned to leave, he heard another voice speak quietly.
"Be careful, boy." It was the boy in the wheelchair. The guy in the cape sprung up at his words.
"What'd you say, Tav? Did I tell you to speak?!" Karkat heard a slightly deformity in his speech, pronouncing his V like a W. Nevertheless, he grabbed the cripple up by his shirt, revealing a sad face under the now over-turned hood.
"N-no, Eridan…" Eridan through him roughly to the ground, to the silent dismay of Karkat.
"I thought not." He had a sharp English mixed Scottish accent, that made him sound even more pompous and arrogant than he was anyway. The boy called Tav got up blankly, pulling his hood over again, and stumbled into the wheelchair again, with help from none in his group. Karkat left quickly afterwards, heading the way the man with the face paint had pointed.
The much flustered John snapped to attention as the rain pattered down on his half-nude body. His gang had left (having robbed him of anything he would have had anyway, maybe a paycheck or two) and his workplace wasn't busy at this time at all. It never was, come 9:30ish. No, only the best clubs in town ran crowded at night. Best meaning strip clubs. John was practically a living manwhore. The stunning red thong and matching bra he had acquired from somewhere, the humongous orange flat high-heel like things, plus socks, not to menton the catastrophe of make-up spattered on his face and the shit tons of sparkles and hair gel in his own, greasy mess of dark hair spelled manwhore. Everyone knew him. The men whistled, the ladies tipped, low, drunk bastards. But it was a living, nevertheless. He got up slowly, straining to climb onto the ridiculous shoes. It was true he didn't hate his job, but his friends did. Dave would always tell him to get a real career like Jade, as if her shaving cream sales could even count. But at least she owned a company. 'Anything better than… sluthood," They'd say.
Dizzily, he leaned on the wall. He had decided he'd needed alcohol. Back to work immediately.
