Yeah, yeah, I know. I haven't updated in a while and the reason is... ... uh... ... um... hm... ... hn... ... Okay, I don't really have a reason. ;
Random quote #5: "Everyone stamps their value on themselves... They are great or small by their own will." –J.C.F. von Schiller.
Trigon slowly walked down the shadowed and barren alley, lightly kicking an old can with every other step. The sound of his footsteps echoed in unison with the tinkling of the can up and down the small outdoor hallway.
The sun was hidden behind the thick and heavy clouds, rarely peeking out to greet the world in its haste for easy darkness.
Yet, when it did let its warmth flow over the earth and the alley shone with unnatural light, he didn't look up to gaze at the beautiful evening sky. He just kept his eyes toward the ground and the can, concentrating on his feet, hands in his pockets.
The only time he looked up, was when he reached a small door at the end of the alleyway, just to put his key in it and unlock it, walking in. Inside was dark and silent, blurred figures hardly seen as much of a contrast against the overall black bleakness of the small room.
His hand moved to the wall, blindly searching for the light switch, avoiding any peeling wallpaper. When he found it he turned it on, blinking at the brightness, and closed the door behind him.
It was a shabby looking place, no windows nor closets, just a very simple room. It had furniture, sure, but only a bed with springs hanging out from the sides, a table with two splintery chairs, and a couch that was very worn.
There was nothing to be said about the bathroom, except that the toilet was greenish yellow and the sink was what used to be white, but now is a very deep brown.
"Home, sweet home..." Trigon sighed to himself as he sat down on the stuffy, but comfortable couch.
Normally, he wouldn't dare to even try to live in a place like this, he was above that, but he knew that he had to stay hidden from his once happy daughter and her creepy friends.
'Why did I go there anyway?' He mused to himself, leaning back against the couch, folding his arms across his chest. 'I knew she would react like that. I knew her weirdo friends would be there too, so why? Did I really think I had a chance to speak there with her alone? Was I even thinking at all?'
He closed his eyes slowly, laying his head against the back of the couch, and sighed. He unfolded his arms and let them hang loosely at his sides, not really caring about the dust drifting around him at his sudden movements.
He opened his eyes halfway and stared at the water-stained ceiling with discontent and indifference. He really did not want to be there.
"What choice do I have?" Trigon asked himself, voice stone cold, as if he just about hated the roof above him. "They'll come after me if I go out in the open. Especially that green one, whatever his name is."
He could really care less about what his name was though. He was different and that was all that mattered to Trigon. No matter how great he was, what he did for the earth, or whatever planet he was from, he would always be looked down upon from him. All of them would.
"Difference is not to be honored..." Trigon mumbled to himself, before his surroundings all swirled away as his mind fell into abyss that many would call a deep, tired, sleep.
Sorry for the short chapter, but there is a lot of information in it about... wait, I can't tell you that! I guess you'll just have to find out on your own then, won't you? :Evil laugh: