Fwoooooooooooosh,
.
Like a bullet shooting from its brass prison and traversing the nicely rifles barrel, the metro wagon wheezed through the grimy labyrinth of bricks and graffiti. Each individual station it passed by was like its own city, in a way. First, the clean, pristinely white surgical halls of the high-rise commercial area, a place where the cheery blondie by his side felt comfortable, yet not at peace. With hundreds of suits passing by, she pulled her hoodie's soft embrace over her ears and tugged at the drawstrings. Curling in her seat, the tiny ball of nerves caught Andy's scattered attention, bringing his thoughts of grand reunions back to Terra for a moment.
"... You alright?"
"Mmm. Just don't wanna get recognized, is all." She whispered back, carefully picking each of her voice-frequencies to make sure nobody but the boy heard her mumbles.
"You're just THAT famous, huh?"
"Oh, shush. It's not about that." She smiled a little, yet refrained from elbowing him in the ribs. Were it Lem, he'd be already retaliating, were it Croissant, he'd be rubbing stomach in pain and whimpering a little. "... It's about the label. The boss doesn't mind when I slack off, but those… Ah, those label suits do." She murmured, a few tiny, gray clouds forming by her frown at the mere thought of another official scold-talking.
"Mmm." Andy thought back to his own boss. To his "unofficial" boss, as the very same, grease-riddled man kept telling him that the boy was his own boss and no one else could make him do anything. Anyone except The Union, apparently. "Yeah, I know how it feels. At least you don't have a Dani with a bag of hundred LMD contracts at the start of each week on your doorstep."
"... A what?" She looked at him with curious confusion, as if Andy had just flown down to Terra from another planet.
"A… Yeah, nevermind."
"Mmm. Soooooo…"
She stretched a little, boring those curious eyes of hers into his face. Her fingers tapped eagerly against her knees.
"... How'd you two meet?"
"Hm?" Andy blinked, once again lost in thought. "... Who, Isaiah and I?"
"Yeah~! Who else?"
"Oh, we served."
Simple statement. They just served. Served through the snowstorms, served through the catastrophes. Almost the catastrophes.
"Served?" She didn't quite catch the weight behind those words. "Served… Like, what, in the military?"
"Mhm."
"Oh. Ooooh…"
A light bulb formed above her head. It lit up the entire wagon like the muzzle flash of Andy's very own nine millimeter Nuffer-replica.
"... That does explain a lot." Murmured the idol. "Like, a lot."
"Like what?"
What did it explain? His constant wallowing in self pity and misery? The constant attention loss? The P.C.L. Peacekeeper jacket over his torn sweater?
"Oh, you'll see. I think. I mean, I might be wrong…" She crossed her legs, lost in a session of thoughtful pondering. "Or maybe not? Or I might…? I dunno~!"
"..."
Andy stared at the beaming icon of world peace sitting by his side. His eyes desperately wanted to blink a few times, to turn into a chameleon for a second or two.
"... Sora, what the fuck are you talking about. (Ow, unnecessary.)"
"Nothing! Nothing~. You'll see." With a giggle, she turned towards the automatic door in front. Through its rectangular window, the world outside molded and shaped like clay, changed like the violent, volatile tide. From those white plains of emotional and creative cleansing, it changed to a dark tunnel of wild, unquenched uncertainty - stretching for miles upon miles, cut by the occasional glimmer of a bright soul lost in the dark. The flickering ceiling lamps, that is. Then, it all disappeared, as the wagon emerged from the intestines of the mobile city's section and flew upwards, towards the highly-risen sky-platforms that connected the different metro stations between each movable part of Lungmen. The clouds, the snow-covered city flicked in their sight, for just a moment or two before the bullet dived right back into the abyss below, back into the belly of the mechanical beast.
The wagon cut through the tunnels at breakneck speeds, passing station by station, vomiting out hordes of suits, taking in armies of visibly less and less wealthy Lungmenites, ranging from rebellious teens ready to vandalize the place the second the doors closed, to actual homeless fiends high off their minds on some unknown substance, that the big man in charge, Yenwu, tried oh so desperately to crack down on.
Yet here, amidst the red bricks, amidst the graffiti covered walls, Sora felt more at peace than anywhere else. The street-dwelling monsters clad in rags, the infected and juvenile troublemakers always put her mind at ease, always brought her back home, to her roots. Stripped of the "idol of peace" persona, she was nothing but a person like any other. Like the old man to her right, the broken, shattered angel to her left, or the trio of hooligans in front.
Giggling among themselves, they whispered words of mischief to one another, two Cautus boys exchanging knowing looks, keeping the third, a Vulpo girl in the dark about their diabolical plan. Her fluffy, orange ears kept twitching at their hushed whispers, before both turned to face the confused fox. Sora saw them telling the girl a little something, to which she diligently nodded and stood in place. They handed her a short stick in the shape of an Arts amplifying device and moved away, circling a few remaining high-rise suits in the search of a worthy target.
Having located a rather large Cerato bodyguard-type, they prepared to pull off their tiny heist. One, the shorter, whipped an actual Arts-wand from his pocket and whooshed a little by his trousers, as the other prepared his sticky fingers to work full throttle. A tiny whirlwind formed by the Cautus caster's legs, as he spun his wand around in a circular motion, leading the little gust towards the giant. With a quick flick, he sent the breeze plummeting into his legs, making the massive bloke fall over and hit his head. A small commotion followed as the two immediately ran to his sides and helped him up.
Confused as all hell, the Cerato kept asking questions, which the two Cautus were more than eager to answer. As the caster kept babbling, the other, Mr Sticky Finger, let his hands roam free across the man's pockets, picking any little wallets and scraps of LMD he could find.
Sora then watched as the caster whispered a few words permeated with hatred into the giant's ear, pointing his little arm towards the Vulpo girlie, who stood there, clutching her fake Arts-wand, all lost in confusion and absolutely unaware of what was happening. The Cerato turned red, a little smoke oozed from his ears, as he pulled his XXXL suit-pants up and marched towards the tiny fox, fuming and pushing aside all the other poor commuters. Both troublemakers exchanged a quick high five and ran off into a different wagon, leaving the distressed girl at the mercy of the raging man-mountain in front, who kept screaming bloody murder right into her ears.
Andy chuckled a little at the whole situation, to the idol's utter dismay.
"... Why're you laughing?"
"Why aren't you? That was good. Good plan, good execution."
"..." She kept to herself, watching some passengers trying to explain the girl's innocence to the Cerato, only to have their mouth immediately shut by the giant's fist. "... That was horrible. Absolutely vile."
"Well, yeah." Andy shrugged a little, stretching out his arms and legs. His halo flickered a little, making the rusty nails shake and vibrate. "But it was a good plan."
"Good plan? What would you do if that happened to you, huh? If someone posed to be your friend only to… To use you, like that?" She hissed a little, surprised at her own, sudden display of anger.
"..." Andy's thoughts flew away from the wagon, from the metro and from Lungmen as a whole. They left his body and instead made their way back in time, to a certain day out in the snowy wastes, where a younger Andrew, still Reiff, marched through the snow with three Sarkaz "friends", delivering a sled filled with grenades, Law knows where.
With a blink, he returned to the red-faced girl.
"... Yeah, I dunno. Never had this happen to me." He mumbled, the memory of Gin's lead-filled face still fresh in his head.
"See? It's… Just awful. So awful. We're all people, we should see one another as that."
.
.
"..."
.
.
He did not answer. Just watched the Cerato's loud scolding.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
The sun had already set when the two finally arrived at the gated community's grand entrance. Wide, tall, iron bars ran all around the golden villas resting in front of their eyes, unreachable to both of them, even Sora. Covered in snow, they soaked in the sun's lazy gleam, turning orange and spitting back the light into their very eyes. The giant, reflective mirrors, the perfectly mowed carpets of fake grass, statues of historical figures no one knew the name of, and gods who never dared touch the wide, blue yonder above. Fake idols for fake people.
"... Which one is his?" Andy asked, with a hint of excitement hiding somewhere in his giddy voice.
"Hmmm…" Sora let her brows fall, focusing on the names list next to a fancy, shiny entryphone. "... Seven, "I. Nuffer." That's… That's gotta be him, right~? I mean, I haven't heard of any other Nuffers around Lungmen, but…"
Andy ignored her rambles and pressed the button next to his nine millimeter pistol's name.
It buzzed.
"..." Andy stood in complete silence, forgetting how to speak or breathe. Excitement boiled within his body, turning his legs to jelly and his weary, tattered mind to a ticking bomb, just waiting to explode and spray the entire area with red and brain chunks.
It kept buzzing.
Sora blinked once or twice and turned to the boy. They locked eyes for a moment and both smiled, sharing their collective moment of elation and joy.
And it buzzed.
Andy was so happy at that moment. Happy like never. Not once since he moved into Lungmen has he been this utterly happy. Maybe the night after meeting Lem, fair. Or after their drunken, intimate moment. Fair. Or when Croissant… Okay, no, that's a bit of a far reach. But it was a happy moment, nonetheless.
Buzz…
Andy felt the girl's radiance dimming a bit. She wrapped up her hoodie's sleeve to check the time.
Buzz…
Maybe they just picked the wrong time? Wrong day?
Buzz…
Maybe he wasn't home? Mr famous rock star, huh? Probably signing off on a record deal or something, ahaha…
Buzz- Tchk!
The noise died completely. Andy shot the Lupo a quick glance, to which she responded by shrugging a little and pressing the button again.
"... Maybe he just didn't hear it, right~?" She warbled, yet her voice sounded as if she tried to convince herself, not the boy. "You know how he is, right? I actually saw him live once or twice…"
Live? Oh, he was making rounds.
Buzz.
"Yeah, he, uh… He used to be… Well, I remember him being very quiet. Like, shy, a bit. Timid." Andy let the claw machines, the rulers of the wide ocean that was his mind, pick through the memories of Isaiah Nuffer embedded into his brain. The guitar lessons, stargazing, planegazing, watching him being shoved around by the older recruits from his squad… Or him squashing his guitar over the head of some Sankta bull. Ha, that was a good memory. Why'd he do it? Lemme think… Lemme think… Oh, right, to get a newspaper! Of course, they brought in newspapers from the homeland… Ahaha… Wonder what interesting things they wrote there. Can't seem to remember.
"Really?" Sora perked up, Andy's description clearly challenging her own perception of Mr "Fowlboy" Nuffer. "That's weird, I always thought he was kinda-..."
BZZZT! The buzzer cut her words like a hot knife cuts butter, making the girl jump a little. A slightly distorted, clearly annoyed voice soon followed.
"... Listen, I didn't pick up once and I thought I made myself clear. I. DON'T. WANT. TO. BUY. ANYTHING."
Even though the voice sounded barely human, Andy's heart stopped at once. As distorted and shattered as it was, he knew damn well who was speaking.
"O-Oh~! I'm sorry, Mr Nuffer, we're not here to sell anything! We're actually-..."
"Who's we?" The buzzing shut her off again, making its annoyance known.
"... We, I mean, um… I'm Sora, you might've heard of me, I'm from M.S.R, so we're technically kind of like colleagues~!" The girl warbled into the microphone, a hopeful, yet shaky smile tugging at her pink-ish lips.
.
"... Who?"
.
Sora went pale. That, before a bright, cherry-red blush covered her entire face.
"U-Um… Sora, I'm from…"
"Okay, "Sora", cool, and I should care, why?" The voice spat back, once AGAIN cutting the poor girl off. Andy blinked a little, feeling a hint of uneasiness growing within. Damn, Nuffer must've seriously taken Droz's words to heart. He grew one hell of a spine. Maybe even a few vertebrae too many.
"U-Um…" By this point, the idol had the wind completely knocked out from her sails. She just stammered and stammered, unable to form a coherent sentence.
Andy cleared his throat a little and spoke up, right into the shiny microphone.
"... Isaiah? That you?" His voice came out a little bit too excited, having shoved all worries aside. With a massive grin over his face, he just couldn't help but feel a bit giddy.
"... "Isaiah"? Excuse me, I didn't know we were on a first name basis." Permeated with disdain, the buzzer replied. "Who the hell do you think you are, huh? Who are you? Her producer? Bodyguard?"
The grin had stretched far beyond the contours of his face by now. Andy could almost hear himself squealing in excitement, as his lips produced the sweet, smug answer to his question.
"I'm Andy. Just Andy."
"Andy? Andy who? Look, there's a million "Andy's" in this city alone, just tell me-..."
"Andy Reiff. From the Pontifica Cohors Lateran. From Kazdel, seven years ago."
This time, he cut in. He cut the annoyed buzzing off and cut it off for good. There was nothing but silence on the other side for a good minute or so. Sora calmed herself a little, staring at the boy as if she were a poor, town-maiden and he had just slain a massive dragon threatening her village. The voice died. Went silent altogether.
"..."
The person on the other side smacked their lips.
"... Andy?"
The boy perked up, smiling wider than ever.
"... Yeah?"
"... Is it really you? Really, really you?"
"Who else? You think anyone would take the time to go around impersonating your old war buddies…?"
"..."
There it went, again. Silence.
Followed by a buzz. The entire gate buzzed, this time. Its massive, golden doors shifted and wailed, screeching with age and improper handling. Shuffling aside snow, the wings tore them a wide entrance into the compound, obediently hiding to the sides.
Sora whistled a little.
"... To be honest, I thought you were bluffing."
"What?"
"Yeah. I thought you were just messing around."
"And you still took me here?"
"Well… Yeah~? It's more fun than sitting around the safehouse."
She gave him one of her rare, warm, toothy smiles and launched herself forward, running across the snowy plains leading upwards towards all the glass-houses that slid across their sight. Andy shook his head a little and followed suit, feeling his wings taking him forward, not his legs.
.
…
.
Knock-knock.
.
"..."
They both stood in front of a massive, oak door, awaiting impatiently. Tap, tap, the boy's raggy, untied sneakers kept bumping against the doorstep, his palms gathered a few droplets of sweat. Sora seemed slightly less enthusiastic, yet remained beaming nonetheless.
Tch-tchk.
The lock flipped, but the door remained closed. The two waited for the obstacle to finally part and be shoved to the side, but… It never did.
Instead, a voice spoke out, slightly muffled.
"... That you?"
Andy recognized it almost immediately. Chirpy, soft, maybe slightly more rough and… A bit slurred? Still, it was him. Had to be.
"Yeah? You don't recognize me?"
"No, no, I recognize you, alright. Just, uh… Making sure."
"..."
Andy and Sora looked at each other, as an uneasy feeling of confusion washed over the entire situation.
"... So… Can you open the door?" The boy asked, leaning a bit towards the peephole. Something shook on the other side.
"Yeah. Yeah, just, uh… Just needed a second."
A second? A second for what…?
With a little pang of confusion tugging at the boy's heartstrings, he watched as the sacred gate of oak finally parted, making way for a bright, golden illumination to loom over them both, these two, tiny souls in the presence of…
"... ISAIAH!"
Andy couldn't contain his excitement anymore and pounced forward, throwing his entire 164 centimeter self onto the man in front. Clad in nothing but a… Slightly dirty bathrobe, the unshaven, messy-haired Liberi recoiled a bit back, completely unprepared for the sudden assault. His long, feather-y strands of brown hair flew in each direction, blown away by the impact, mixing and muddling with the boy's gray curls. There he was. Isaiah Nuffer, the silent bard of the north, the Tyrthean singer of war-time melodies, the one true beacon of pure innocence.
"... H-Holy shit," He gasped, nearly all out of breath. "Andy? Andy, you-..." Carefully, he unwrapped the boy's eager hands from around himself and held him at arm's reach. With a thorough scan, he continued. "... You're… What the fuck happened to you?"
The angel kept staring up into his fiercely confused face, an uncontainable grin stretching far beyond the contours of his beaming lips.
"It's just a scrap! Some homeless rags caught me, put nails in my halo, no biggie…"
"What?" The man tilted his head in confusion. "... No, I mean… How are you alive?"
"..." That got him thinking. How WAS he alive?
How was he hanging on? How was his head holding up? Not too well. A brewing conflict arose deep within his brain, a conflict for another hour. Another day.
"Well, I… I survived. How are YOU alive, huh? We saw them taking the outpost, we thought YOU all died!"
"..."
Nuffer stared at him in honest awe and shock for a few moments. The expression slowly dissipated into something far less, though. Something much, much less. Something, almost nothing. Nearly blank, at all.
Andy blinked. "... Isaiah?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm here." He reassured, taking a small step back and leaning onto some fancy, beast-bone coat hanger. "... I'm just… You know, I'm a bit shocked, that's all." He muttered, forcing a rather unpleasant smile to emerge from behind the sea of worries painted over his face.
"Right? You know how shocked I was when I heard-..."
Andy found his words coming to a screeching halt as a rather feminine sounding, male voice spoke up from behind the Liberi's back. It tore through their conversation like a bullet through the brain, shutting the boy right up.
"Nuff? Nuffy, who's that? Is that the mailman? Oh, my new EPOQUE collection, mayhaps~?"
"..."
Isaiah turned a little dim and exchanged a quick look with the boy, before throwing back towards the chirpy voice. "... It's just guests. We're just gonna talk f-..."
"OOOOOH! GUESTS?" The feminine man responded right away, followed by a little commotion and rapid footsteps. Soon, at the end of the cherry-wood hallway, a new light made its appearance - a bright, shining light.
A man, a Vulpo, all dressed in light, breeze silks from head to toe. Handfuls of rings hung from his fluffy, plum-violet ears, all dangling and clinking and clanking as he stepped on forward. On his face, a wide, massive glimmer of a smile, eager to flash all his perfectly white teeth to the two guests. They could only stare. Stare and bask in the sight.
"Ooooh, gods, oh, look at you two! I've never seen a Sankta face to face, you know?" He warbled right into the boy's face, taking his sweet time with every over the top hand movement and theatrical gesture. "And you? Oh, you two look so adorable together…!"
Nuffer could only stand in place, almost completely pale. Not even a word, just a pity-inducing look towards the angel.
"... So adorable! Really, you two… I love your little hoodie, little girl~." He added, throwing Sora a wink. "And your, uhm… Your halo-nails, angel boy?... Who are you, by the way?"
"... That's, uh… That's Andy." Isaiah stepped in, shielding the two from his… Uh… "Friend's?" "Roommate's?" Yeah, from his roommate's glimmer. "... And, what was your name?"
"M-...?" Sora blinked, surprised at her sudden appearance in their rather one sided dialogue. "Uh, I'm Sora, I'm from Monster S-..."
"Yeah, Andy and Sora." Nuffer summed up, his voice as emotionless as ever. As if he hadn't just gone through the high of meeting a friend he was convinced died seven years ago. "... Guests." He pointed out, accordingly.
"..."
Andy kept staring attentively, feeling more and more out of place with each passing second. The hallway was nice, really nice. Fancy, lined with fur rugs, those expensive, chiseled cobbles for walls, a whole bunch of wardrobes built into the walls, expensive clothes hanged all around the racks, shoes scattered around (a few of them, all nicely glimmering with gold, the rest old and worn, wonder which ones were whose.)
"... Well! Well, guests! If you're Nuffie's guests, you're my guests! C'mon, come on inside, c'mon it's cold out. Isn't it cold? Aren't you cold, with just that hoodie, little girl?" He kept warbling and warbling, tweeting and chirping, as he pulled both of them inside and led towards the main living area. Isaiah said nothing, only closed the door behind them and grimly draggled on behind.
"It's a, uh… A nice place." Andy pointed out, as the overly enthusiastic man led them to a massive living room, all swimming in riches and glamor. At the very middle of this wealth-chamber stood a massive table stylized to look like a neatly cut tree stump, with fancy, brown couches surrounding it from all sides to give it a somewhat of a home-y vibe, yet also failing miserably and coming off as pretentious at the same time. All around, on each wall, that wasn't a floor to ceiling window displaying Lungmen from far above, either an ostentatious painting, a framed record or a guitar hung, proudly informing the guests that yes, in fact the owners of this estate WERE rich and POSSIBLY musicians. Right by their side, a gold-plated indoor fireplace lit the entire room up, like Andy used to back in Kazdel with Vinny in his hands and ori-powder in his mind. It was an eyesore. A complete, tasteless lack of vision. Oh, and they hung a huge flatscreen above it. Not like Andy would think too long about it, he didn't even have a TV at home.
The only real saving grace were the long shadows drawing all across the room, being cast by the sun's dying gaze, as it slid behind Lungmen's skyline, draping a soft, warm blanket of orange over the entire place. Andy could stare at sunsets till the day he died. He truly loved those.
"Oh, thank you! I designed it myself, hehe~" The man beamed in glee, offering the boy a very kind smile. His fluffy ears twitched a little, making each of the golden rings flutter and clink against one another. "... Since Nuffy kept this place in SUCH A MESS, I had to step in and intervene, you know?"
"..." Nuffer didn't dare open his mouth.
"Uh-huh…"
Andy and Sora both took an uneasy seat by the stump-table, making themselves "comfy" on the couch. For what it was worth, the cushions looked nice up close, but were practically unfit for usage, being nearly as hard as the wood in front. Sora glanced over at the boy with a rather uneasy glint in her eyes, met with his silent reassurance. At this point, he wasn't so sure, himself. "And, uhm… I don't wanna sound rude, but who exactly are you…?"
"Oh? Oh, I haven't introduced myself, have I~? You haven't introduced me, Nuffy?" The Vulpo threw Isaiah a very accusatory glare, as if looking for remorse in the bird-man's weary eyes. They sat on the couch opposite to the two, locked in two stare off's, the man with Isaiah's ear, and Isaiah with the kaleidoscopic chandelier hanging far above their heads.
"..." He sighed a little and shook his head. "Andy, that's Lewie, he's my roommate."
"Roommate? Oh, roomie, huh? I'm a roomie now, am I?" The violet-haired teased some more, poking Isaiah in the side. Nuffer kept his head low, supporting the embarrassment with his elbow. "..." Seeing no reaction from anyone in the room, Lewie stopped and cleared his throat. "Well! Anyway, I'd love to get to know a bit more about you two, cuties! You're Nuffie's friends, hm~?"
"N-..." Sora opened her mouth to decline, only for Andy to beat her to it first.
"YES. Yes. We used to fight in the war together!" A faint glimmer of excitement returned to his voice, as he finally got to babble about their shared sea of experiences. Then, a flash of lightning cut the serene, maritime peace, as the boy remembered some crucial details about their "tour." "... Or, spread peace. 'Cause we didn't really fight that much."
"Oh! Oh, you… You didn't fight much?" Lewie tilted his head in confusion, slowly turning to his "roomie." "... Nuffie, what's that I'm hearing~?"
"Huh? No, no, we DID fight a bunch, right, Andy?" He perked from his daze, suddenly all sober and attentive. With a certain desperate glimmer to his eyes, he stared into the boy's, mouthing the word "please" without a sound.
"Uh… Yeah? Yeaah, we, uhm… We did? I guess? There was the, uhm… The battle for the outpost, I suppose. And more. And many more, yeah." He mumbled, a bit confused by the Liberi's behavior.
"Oh. Huh."
Lewie crossed his legs and joined his hands atop those silk-covered knees.
"Hm." He signed off, seemingly thinking about something.
"..." Andy said nothing.
"..." Sora sat in silence.
"..." Nuffer leaned against the armrest, staring blankly at the wide, dry plains of his massive table's wooden surface.
The entire room fell into the awkward silence's freezing grasp, with nothing but the crackling fireplace to keep them from going insane. Andy saw a glimmer of red emerging from those flames, a glimmer of familiarity breaking through the cold, foreign interior of fake gold and pretentious wealth. His eyes focused, reflecting the flames off those gray pools. It was strange, the fireplace. Apparently warm, but as if not for them. Built too deep into the wall to provide them any sense of actual warmth, the fake, electrical crackles could fool many, but not him. He spent seven years listening to wood crushing beneath the flame's killing grasp nearly every single night. It was fake. It was red, it was beautiful and nearly familiar, but at the same time fake and deceptive. It was warm, yes, but the warmth wasn't for him. The warmth it formed was kept exclusively for itself. It even leeched a bit off the boy, catching his gaze, his genuine gleam of nostalgia and latched onto it for its own purposes, to provide itself a sense of relief. A sense of being there, having a purpose. Living guilt free, free of any worries from the past and slaying all demons that might've lurked in her-, I mean, its head. The flame's. Not Lem's.
Sora coughed a little, breaking the entire room from the awkward trance. Nuffer perked up, finally coming to a realization that he's being a bad host to his guest.
"... Can you excuse me for a moment? Just a moment, I just need to, uh… To hit the bathroom." He mumbled, raising himself off the couch.
"Oh? Sure, Nuffy, take your time~." Chirped his roomie, as the boy and Sora could only nod. Isaiah gathered himself away from the claws of awkwardness and disappeared in another hallway leading upstairs, only the sound of his slippers sliding along the fluffy rugs breaking through the "flame's" soft sounds of decay. With a loud thud, he shut some door behind and disappeared.
"..."
And so, the three were now left completely alone. Andy had already started dissipating into nothing, thinking of L-... The flame, again, but Lewie had different plans.
"... Sooooooooooo…" He started, flashing them yet another grin. "... War, huh? Must've been tough, hm~?"
"Oh. Oh, yeah. Wasn't pretty." Andy nodded a little. He really, truly preferred not to discuss his war-torn past with some rather strange stranger he just met.
"Wasn't pretty, hm~? Well, how about now, though? Sure does look pretty nowadays, hm? I mean, you two just look SO cute together, I can't imagine it going any other way, right…?~"
"...?"
Andy and Sora exchanged a glance. Tick-tock. A tiny clock beat out just two clicks in both their heads, before their mouths shot wide open, twisting in embarrassment and surprise.
"N-No, it's not like…"
"No, we're not…!"
"We're not, like…"
"Yeah, we're… We're not, you know, we're just…"
"Yeah, we're just…"
"Just colleagues."
"Yeah, colleagues. Barely even colleagues, I mean, we work for different companies, technically, and…"
"Mmm, and I'm signed to a label, and we do, uh… Whew, our jobs kinda vary a lot, I mean, I-I…"
"Uh-huh! I get it, I get it." Lewie giggled in a very girly fashion and smiled. From far, far away, a loud "FFFF-FUCK!" could be heard, followed by a few meaty slams against some hard surface. Both the boy and girl turned towards the bathroom, but the man remained unphased.
"Colleagues! How beautiful it sounds, right? Just colleagues… Me and Nuffie used to be just colleagues at some point too, you know~?"
Andy disregarded his remark completely and pointed towards the hallway that earlier took Isaiah and swallowed him whole. "... Uh, is he okay?"
Sora bored her gaze in the abyss awaiting at the very end of the hall, her short, fluffy ears perking up, as if scanning for danger. "He's okay~." Lewie reassured them both. "Don't worry. Though, I am rather perplexed…"
He leaned a bit forward, letting all his silk robes and fancy rings flow with his breeze, his own, personal wave. "... Say, Andy, was it?"
The boy's gaze slowly slid from the darkening abyss of the hallway, meeting the man's. "Yup?"
"Mmm. Andy, then. Tell me, because I find it quite… Well, I never did ask Nuffy about his inspirations, I don't understand half his lyrics anyway, but…"
He smiled and let his eyelids droop.
"... Are YOU the "Gray angel" from his songs? Or was there some OTHER gray angel conquering the Kazdelian wilderness, hm~?"
"...?"
Gray angel?
All previous thoughts, the red flames, the mental images and whatnot, it all flew out of his head at once, as if someone stuck him over the head with a bat. Right out of his left ear, it all went, speeding through the massive windows and onto the snow awaiting way down below. He had no idea what the hell the fox-man was talking about.
"Gray angel…? I'm not really familiar with…-"
.
Thud!
Bang!
.
The bathroom door swung wide open, hitting the wall a tad bit too tight. The doorknob embedded itself deep into the cheap plaster and remained in place, stuck for all eternity. Or not.
"Hehe…" The troublemaker giggled, grabbing the handle to pry it right off the wall. With a loud bang, he closed it up and made his way back, stumbling a little, maybe even with a tiny hop in his step. On his way back down, he raided a standing wine-stand, grabbing a bottle in each hand.
Sora glanced towards Andy, who returned her look of genuine worry. As Nuffer slid down the stairs, nearly breaking both bottles and his spine, Lewie clapped a little and let out a tiny cheer.
"O-Ohoho, someone's in a good mood~... OH! OH, HAHA!" It turned to a chirpy laughter, as the forgotten poet jumped atop the stump-table, his bathrobe now swinging loose, revealing his dirty tank top and heart-riddled undies.
"I'm in a really good mood! I'm in a really, really good, fucking mood!" He spit out, like a machine gun. Every word came rapidly after the other, as if chasing those poor syllables right out of his throat. Sora shifted a little closer to the boy with a tiny shiver, leaving Andy staring in genuine shock at his war-time buddy, as he dropped to his knees and shuffled towards them both. He leaned in, a wild glimmer now burning in his eyes, a foreign, completely unrecognizable, primal flame.
"You know, Andy, you could've shot me a message 'fore you dropped by, y'know? You should've called, I would've thrown you the best fucking party of your pathetic little life, y'know?"
He cackled like a maniac and slammed both bottles against the table. One shattered, splattering glass shards and red wine all over the place, making Sora squeal a little, forcing her legs up to her chest. Lewie clapped and cheered on, encouraging his roomie.
"Ye-eah! A party!" He giggled, tapping his palms against the table. Nuffer leaned in even further. Even closer, way too close for comfort. Andy got a good, long look at his face, barely recognizing his old friend. No shyness lived amidst those sad rolls of skin-fat anymore, no signs of that timid, yet bright young man. His eyes were all bloodshot to hell, purple bags messily disguised with makeup resided underneath. His eyes, those poor eyes. Glaring at the boy, paired with the massive, wild grin, and… And the trail of white, fluffy dust spilling from his nostrils, staining the skin underneath.
Oh no.
Andy pressed himself back into the couch. Nuffer grinned.
.
"C'mon, Reiff. We're gonna reminisce some about our past, ah? How's that? Isn't that what you came here for?"
.
Sora stared at the madman in pure shock. Andy backed off as much as the hard cushions let him.
.
"... It's not everyday that you meet a walking corpse. A walking, talking corpse. You're a treasure, you know that, Reiff? A real treasure. A real, fucking goldmine."
.
Lewie wheezed in excitement.
.
Andy felt his heart freezing over at the sight. At the fall of yet another perfect image from his tattered memories.