CHAPTER V

The Scent of Cheap Baccie.

The end of the day neared as a black shape moved its way into a back alleyway where someone had set up camp to sell 'merchandise'. His swagger wasn't a very good imitation of that of Han Solo, and he looked like he might be just a tad bit insane as he dug through his fannypack for a penny and dime. "Technically its recyclin," he commented, pulling the coins out from his overly empty pouch and brandishing them with a sort of humble quality that few people possessed. "I'm helpin tha planet.." he wasn't very convincing as firelight flickered on his face, glowing from the sprouts of olive branches which adorned the tarnished canvas tent.

Shadow Darkspot took a seat on the dank alley floor in front of the merchants kiosk. The smell of fruity booties danced from a glass candle which burned with the raging fire of young love, reminding painfully the campground owner of his distant wounded past. The merchant, sitting only a foot away, looked up from the shadows of a knitted cowl, eyelids blinking loudly, the sloshing of fluid sounding throughout the village. "Oh hey Shadow.." a gentle sloth-y voice came up from beneath stagnant robes, and a pale face and fluffy white beard entered the glow of candlelight. Shadow grinned.

"Sup Moss?" he asked, and the his old friend chuckled, knowing what the guy had likely come for. "You need some cheap baccie, Shadrack?" he asked, and the hedgehog nodded. "Yeah, d00d, the stuff I can get with a penny and a dime, kay? The 1 dollar stuff tastes nasty like a rats azz, ya know?" he began twisting his nervous hands around his feet, entwining his fingers and toes. "Make it quick, yah? I gotta keep up a REPyouTAYtion, ya know? An if any o' deh ol' ladies from the camp ground see me here, they'll be sure to gossip about it."

He leaned forward and quickly slapped the money on the extremely GRIMY kiosk, his face VERY close to the sloth's. "Ah know a lady, she ain't real old, but she's rather old fashioned, so I reckon it's the same thing, right? So any way, her name's Vanilla, she lives in one of the posher trailers near by, and she's got a daughter named Cream, yah? Real high an annoying voice, both o' them got it, ya know? Any way, I've seen her here before, buying some 'ingredients' for her pies, or somethin', I dunno, but I don't really think it's anything like flour or spices, ya get my drift?" the hedgehog nodded profoundly and stepped back, snatching the baccie off the counter top and stuffing it into his back quills after his friend provided it. "thanks man, I owe you one – a big one, for keepin' this a secret between us." He gestured with a FAT finger between them, and the sloth chuckled.

"No problem, Shadrack, just make sure to brush your teeth, alright?" He produced a SMALL thing of toothpaste and handed it to the ebony guy. "Take this with you. It will help you in the long run."

"Are you sure man?" Shadow asked in disbelief, and the sloth nodded. "I mean, no one's ever lent me toothpaste before, let alone given me a whole TUBE!" But Moss just chuckled and brushed aside his protests. "Keep it, my friend, I insist." So the hedgehog squealed and held the tube above his head in victory, flailing his arms up and around the elderly creature in an awkward hug over the kiosk. "I shall never forget this kindness, my posh gentleman. If you ever need a roof above your shaggy head, I shall provide it, FREE OF COST!" And with that, the Darkspot left the dank alleyway with renewed purpose and vigor in his MANLY swagger... (Han Solo would have been proud)... right before he RAN right into someone entering the alley.

"Oh, Mister Shadow, what a surprise." And he stared right into the INNOCENT, UNSUSPECTING, face of Cream the Rabbit as she innocently clutched her mother's hand.

The mark of Transition

The surface of tub water danced like half-forgotten Olympians as soft hands wrung out a soaked pair of knockoff-brand Jeggings. A sigh escaped through warm breath into musty air lined with smoke, and Jackson Louis Morgan leaned back onto his 'heels' as he knelt beside the tub to dry his garments. He stood up, PANTLESS of course, but he was alone in the comfort of his apartment so it didn't matter much. He waddled widely over to a large picture window in his main room, and stared outside towards the beach. He saw through the trees and past shorter buildings, the run-down 'campground' where Bean the duck lived. He stood there for a while, leaning against the glass.

"Why, Bean?" he finally asked, to no one in particular. He knew no one could hear him, but the floorboards outside his room creaked, as if responding in a hollow groan of someone struck with heartsickness and regret from lost love. Jackson shook his head, Someone was just going to their room, he heard voices in the hallway and the swinging of old doors on rusty hinges. They stopped, the door shut, and he was alone again. His eyes couldn't keep from the light outside the window, and the smell of flaking bark which seemed to permeate the glass.

"I... kinda like you Jacky.."

His voice was calm and determined, despite how UNSAFE the words were, it was genuine. He giggled to himself. Bean had never said it before, and it felt weird now that he had. he turned over in his 'sleeping/camping bag', looking Jackson in his wide WIDE eyes. "Whoa dude..." was the gorillion's startled reply, he couldn't think of what to say or do. He swallowed kinda unsuredly, and chuckled nervously.. but then, he smiled. "You know bean? I think I like you too." he reached out of his own sleeping sack and patted the ducks 'shoulder'. though unsure of himself, he couldn't think of anything better to say, or anything more true.

Jackson snapped back to reality, and he heard the washer shut off. He swallowed, a shiver reaching over him and taking the floor, sparing his spine. The gorillion hurried to the bathroom, and pushed the hair from his face. He swallowed again, and put his clothes on for another cycle.

Stuff happens... deal wit it...

There was fire, there was smoke, and there was DEATH... That was the aftermath of the Particle Accelerator explosion that happened 14 minutes ago and gave the blue blur his speed. He saw it everywhere he looked, all the heartache, all the despair, all the children crying because... because... He stopped a moment to listen to the conversations between parents and their children to see what they were crying about.

"Mommy, Mommy, Mommy! Susan called my teddy bear green when it's really blue! Call her mommy and tattle on her!" The young creature quickly whipped out his latest greatest uptodatest I-phone 100 and snapped a picture of his face twisting into a poor imitation of a duck. "Hashtag first world problems!"

Sonic the Hedgehog nodded and continued his slow, cinematic walk, acknowledging that he had brought this darkness upon them and that it was his responsibility to end it... after he had found that certain someone he'd been looking for for the past 30.2 seconds. He stooped to the ground and sniffed the dirt, hoping someone would stop for a moment to appreciate the cool pose he was in (kneeling on one knee with his face in the dirt, butt in the air and back aching from the awkward position.) A wiff of cheap baccie slipped into his flared nostrils and he gasped loudly, skittering across the ground like a deranged spider and sniffing like a mindless dog. Finally, he found the spot where the scent was strongest and looked up, only to be greeted by his own FACE... painted on a rock... with streaks of drool and baccie stains darkening the horribly drawn portrait.

"No..." he whispered heartbrokenly, running his hand across the surface. "How could he do this to me?" he tried to pull his hand away, but it was rather stuck to the slimy surface. He pulled and pulled, but to no avail. A single tear spilled down his cheek and he turned his face to the sky, letting out an earth shattering cry to any that would listen. "NO!"