Chapter 18: A Parable for the Terrible

[Freak Boy]

Freak Boy bought himself a few greasy looking breakfast tacos and enough coke and heroin to do a few speedballs. He had maybe close to $200 left. He sat in a public bathroom, cutting lines on the toilet seat.

"You're putting too much coke out, it's gonna harsh the high of the heroin," Stalin said.

"Back off, man. I know what I'm doing. I've been speedballing since before I started hallucinating about you."

"Speaking of which," Trotsky said, appearing on Freak Boy's left shoulder. "Do you think that maybe... if you stopped speedballing so frequently, you'd stop seeing us?"

"Maybe. Don't really care." Freak Boy pulled a needle out of his pocket and put it on the toilet seat. He handed a baggie with some heroin in it to Stalin. "Here, go ahead and set the stuff on the spoon." While Stalin prepared the heroin, FB tied a little plastic tube around his arm and began flexing his forearm.

"This isn't healthy, Comrade... one day these are gonna kill you," Trotsky said with a sigh.

"Shut up, man. Everything's bad for you. Big whoop."

"Alright, that should be about enough," Stalin said, tying the baggie up.

FB snorted three lines of coke, then grabbed the spoon and held his lighter under it. He watched the heroin bubble as he felt the cocaine rush to his brain. He grabbed the needle and loaded the heroin. There was a nice fat vein showing on his forearm. A good target. He shot up and felt the magic liquid rush straight to his heart. He stood up and then almost immediately fell over.

"Damn son..."

He half rose to the point where he could at least crawl, and made his way out of the bathroom and into an alley way where he would chill by a dumpster until he could walk again.

[Niilo Ukkonen]

Will this woman just shut the hell up?! Niilo thought as he pressed his ear against the door, listening for footsteps. He raised his hand to indicate that silence needed to be held for a few moments. After hearing no footsteps of any kind, he figured that it was merely a false alarm, and there wasn't any need to have moved his lazy ass anywhere.

"Damn it," he muttered as he got up. "I don't know if I'm in trouble with the Creditors, the Manalists already don't like me, and the Creditors and Global Bank don't exactly appreciate my talents either," Niilo said as he got up.

Niilo sighed for a moment, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a marijuana joint.

"I was running from them due to the fact that drugs are good and they are bad. Apparently, the bastards beg to differ," Niilo said as he waved the joint around the express himself in his speech and using the other than to fish out a box of matches.

A few moments of silence passed and nothing was said.

"If you're waiting for an apology, fuck off; you're not getting one. 'Name's Niilo and I'm about to get higher than the clouds."

[Linnea Korpela]

Linnea didn't notice Tristian till he looked at her, at that time Horatio stepped in front of her. Her heart jumped in her throat, she couldn't believe this was happening again. Horatio spoke to her but she was shaking so hard that she didn't hear him, the only thing she could do was crouch behind him and wring her hands together, wide eyed as she mumbled.
"Not again, not again, not again...." she repeated over and over again.

[Freak Boy]

Freak Boy watched as some strange looking pygmies ran around in a circle, worshiping some demon lord. They had those weird Predator dread-lock things. It'd make a really good sketch later on. He sat in the alley way, mumbling the lyrics to an old song by Don Felder.

"Won't you take a ride on heavy metal
It's the only way that you
Can travel down that road
Satisfied on heavy metal
Baby won't you ride
Ride it until it is through

Heavy metal..."

About another half hour of hallucinations and incoherent mumbling followed, and then he was good to go. He stood up, still feeling very high, and made his way down the street. His muscles were tense and he walked with a swagger. If you could see behind his sunglasses, you'd see dark red eyes and pin-dot pupils. He got out his laptop and sent a mass notification to all known rebels in the Helsinki area, seeking lodgings for a weekend in exchange for drugs or guns.

[Anya Louteius]

Anya watched and waited and smirked darkly. She spoke in a dark cold voice that meant danger was ahead if he didn't leave. "You have got five second to get your ass out of this house. If you don't leave I will call the creditors on you. Pick your poison, sweetness. I kick your ass and you leave....or I kick your ass and you get drug away by creditors. Tick .....tock....tick....tock." She reached for the knife behind her and waited.

She grabbed her little black phone and dialed a number and then waited and closed the phone. "Okay, time's up. Get out. Now." She walked towards him getting ready to attack him. She didn't spend 4 or more months with a psycho and not pick up anything.

[~Ophelia Vespera~]

"Okay, white it is." Ophelia said, picking up the garden scissors beside the potted roses.

She crouched down and began to trim a few of the blossoming white roses.. Yet her mind was still on the rosary. It was slipping. Bead by bead. It felt like a snake slithering down the middle of her stomach. How was she going to stand without it falling out? She noticed the look Cephrien had given her. He could tell something was up.. But it's not like he knew exactly what. She could just be wanting to go pee really bad.

She gulped as she got closer to the point where she had to stand up.. Just three more roses to trim..3.. The rosary was hanging on by two beads to her bra...2.. One bead hanging on... 1. Ophelia snipped the last rose and took in a deep breath. With her gut sucked in, she stood tall, and the rosary slid down her abdomen into the small gap in the front of her jeans. All except 4 of the white beads hung out of her jeans and she let out her breath, closing up the gap, unable to get the rest of them in.

"Wow, awfully humid in here isn't it? Let's get out of here." Ophelia said wiping the sweat casually off her forehead and walking past him abruptly. She led him out of the greenhouse and arranged the bouquet of roses at the counter, skillfully swaddling it in three elegant wrappings and a bow. She did it carefully, despite her urge to do it fast and get him out so she could grab the rosary that was now slightly hanging out of her pants, and partly making its way into her panties.

"Would you like a birthday card to go with the roses?" she asked politely pointing to the birthday cards on the wall beside the counter.

[††Venice "Cephrien" Ashgrove††]

Ceph followed her out of the greenhouse and resumed his position infront of the counter once more, though now, he couldn't help but stare towards her lower abdomen area. Calm eyes blinking once with what appeared to be confusion. He listened to her speak, but didn't seem to answer for a few seconds. His eyes darted back to the shopkeeper's face, staring at her through his bangs.

"..A card would be necessary I suppose."

[Max Alexander]

"You have my undivided attention, Dinari." Max told him while taking a sip of rum and coke. "Why dont we grab a limo and take a little tour of the city first though. I'd like to see it."

[Tuesday DeCastro]

((To Freak Boy))

Tuesday had finished reading Rebel Action, and was checking her e-mail, looking for the dates of the meeting in London. She noticed an unread message from an unfamiliar address. Whoever it was needed a place to stay in exchange for drugs or guns.

Tuesday had no use for drugs, but hadn't her party discussed the need for weapons not to long ago? And she did have a spare room, it was cramped and a little dingy, but it was better than nothing. Though...it was risky inviting a stranger into her apartment.

Nonetheless, she responded to the e-mail, informing the stranger that she had room, and inquiring about the previously mentioned guns.

[~Ophelia Vespera~]

Ophelia followed his eyes to where he was looking, even though she knew exactly where: At those damned and at the same time holy beads hanging out of her jeans. When he returned his gaze to her face she didn't know what to do. She waited for him to say something about it. But he didn't. And that she was thankful for.
She grabbed one of the cards that best suited the wrapping and collected her pay before handing over the roses and card.

"I hope the lovely lady enjoys her flowers. Please, come again." Ophelia said. Well, the first thing she meant, but the latter she was a little unsure of, it was out of habit she said it. Their meeting was an awkward one, and she was sure if they ever met again it would still be awkward between them, with or without a necklace obviously sticking out of her pants.

[Freak Boy]

Freak Boy recieved a response. He sent a very simple correspondence:

"You name it, I can get it. Meet where? Place, Time."

He stood up, still high, and began gathering his things. The nearest teleportation booth was a few miles down, hopefully he'd hear back from her by then.

[Tuesday DeCastro]

It seemed like only moments after Tuesday hit send, she'd recieved a response. She typed in the address of a small cafe about a block away from her apartment. She would've just given him her address and had him meet her there, but it was about lunchtime anyway and she was hungry.

As for a time, she could be there in about five minutes. 'Its only a short trip for me. How soon can you arrive there?' She wrote.

[Freak Boy]

Freak Boy saw the teleportation booth in the distance. "In under 2 minutes," came his swift reply. He punched in the coordinates to a booth about a block away from the location. He then proceeded to make his way down the street towards the block, doing his best to keep a low profile. He had his jacket pulled tight around him, his cap brim down low, and hid his bloodshot eyes behind his aviator sunglasses. A big fat cigar sat between his lips, leaving a large cloud of thick cigar smoke behind him as he made his way to the cafe.

[Tuesday DeCastro]

Tuesday recieved the last e-mail almost immediately. She didn't bother writing a response, thinking it would be a waste of time. Instead, she slipped her feet into shoes, grabbed a jacket and headed to the cafe.

It wasn't until she was there, a few minutes later, that it occured to her that she had no idea who she was looking for. She glanced around the small room. It was rather empty, not many of the tables held people, and most of those that did had two or three to them. Tuesday figured she'd beaten whoever she was about to meet there, and took a seat.

[Freak Boy]

Freak Boy approached the cafe cautiously. His eyes darted everywhere. He spotted little to no sign of law enforcement in the area. If it was a set up, it was a good one. Nobody around, not many places to hide...

"This looks pretty legit," Trotsky said.

"I'm sorry, did you just say... 'legit'?" Freak Boy asked, quirking a brow.

"Yeah... that's what they say... right? Legit. ... Legit?"

"Stop talking."

Freak Boy entered the cafe and stood in the door way. His eyes fell to Tuesday rather quickly. She was the only one sitting alone. He sat down across from her, his cigar half done.

"Are you Tuesday DeCastro?"