(( I'm just gonna go ahead and start 8D ))

"I don't understand, where is my contractor?" Tark looked at the starbucks-employee with a confused and unhappy expression, trying to understand where his friend had disappeared to. "When will she be back?"

"For the last time, Jenna ain't comin' back! She got into some trouble with her fiancé, and left for Los Angeles!" The man gave him an angry glare, trying to serve his costumers while explaining the story. "She said she was sorry, and had me make you your breakfast, coffee and bagel, right? Jesus, be less crazy, would'ya," the teenager grumbled, fetching Tark's order for him, practically shoving it into his hands.

Sighing depressingly, the alien retreated to one of the small tables, chewing his bagel and swallowing his coffee with surprising speed. Finishing up, he then headed out the door, putting his hands into his pockets while looking up towards the sky - for old times' sake - thinking of the only friend he seemed to have lost. Starbucks Jenna had been one of the lighter experiences since he arrived on Earth. When most human beings preferred to keep their distance, or at least force him to keep his, Jenna had offered him a cup of coffee and talked to him. Though she was probably convinced he was crazy, and actually said so a few times, the younger girl still treated him like an equal, making sure to have his coffee and bagel ready for exactly 14.00 hours each day.

Still, this was what he got for not filling out the proper forms. On his home planet, a simple friendship could only be initiated after three different documents had been filled, not mention stamped, something the humans of Earth simply did not understand. The freedom of this planet was amazing, but also terrifying for someone like Tark.

Walking along the streets of Manhattan, he decided it was time for his daily bath. Setting his course for the ocean, the alien slipped through the streets, soon reaching the special little place he'd found for himself. He dived in, not bothering to remove his clothing, and felt momentarily better as the water surrounded him - reminding him of the watery streets of his own planet. Somewhere above him, a boat zoomed past, the radio playing loud enough for him to catch the last sentences;

The sun hadn’t yet risen when Aliya stepped out of her front door, but its rays were stretching through the sky and peeking over the hills in anticipation of the morning. She enjoyed the cold sting of the air against her skin, though it didn’t last very long: here in the chaparral of southern California heat took over quickly.

Then she was off jogging. Every morning she woke before dawn for a run and got back with just enough time to shower and brush her teeth before she had to catch her school bus – sometimes she even remembered to bring a pop-tart or bagel for breakfast.

As her feet thudded on the dirt she let her mind wander. Running was one of the few times she let herself think with no restrictions. It was when she examined her future, her problems, her feelings. Now she opened herself up to the thing she’d been trying to ignore – the nervousness deep inside that had no source.

She had woken up with a gasp and a jerk, as one does out of a nightmare. She couldn’t remember the dream itself, but the feeling of panic hadn’t left her since then. She had clamped down until it was only a fluttering in her stomach, but it had refused to go away.

As she crested a hill, Aliya paused to survey the landscape. The sun had risen now, making the temperatures rise. It was going to be another hot day, which made Aliya smile slightly. Her feeling momentarily forgotten, she turned and started heading home.

The sun was rising, and Connor realized he hadn't slept since about this time the day before; he'd been lurking in paranormal boards all night again, watching bullshit videos on youtube- simultaneously distracting himself from the nagging issue that had ended in a voluntary suspension from work and trying to solve it. His sleep schedule was out of control at this point, he decided, and he elected to go out and get a cinnamon bun before he went to bed. The reality that this was the only thing he'd have eaten in about 48 hours hit him when he tried to get up from his chair and was immediately stricken with severe light-headedness that nearly knocked him off his feet. Pulling on a relatively clean or at least non-smelly t-shirt, he stepped out and began his short trek to the local coffee place on foot. Considering his mostly-empty refrigerator, he debated going shopping to ensure he wouldn't procrastinate getting food when he woke back up as he trudged along his way. It was too hot- he'd been too hot all the time ever since he moved to California, and he constantly regretted that the lab couldn't have been somewhere with a more agreeable climate.

After deciding on and purchasing three cinnamon buns, he decided that instead of going home to eat, he would sit near the bay. The last time he'd gone the seagulls and the smell of the breeze had been a bother, but Connor hadn't gone outside for at least a week, by his approximation, and that worried him. He didn't want to go back in yet, he knew that the way he was living was unhealthy and the realization that he'd managed to attain his current level of paleness in California in the summer was frightening. Taking a seat on the beach and facing the ocean, beginning to really feel the effects of staying awake for nearly 24 hours, he half-heartedly consumed one of his pastries. He realized he must look homeless, but he didn't let it get to him. He let his blond hair out of the loose, messy ponytail that had barely been keeping it out of his face anyway, and scratched at his scruffy beard- he'd have to shave later, he noted, he disliked how he looked with a beard.

Ashcan Pete stirred and looked around him. Nothing. The alley where he slept was deserted. Yet he could still feel it. An uneasy feeling, starting somwhere in his gut. He could smell it, and feel it in his bones. Something was about to happen.

Oh well, whatever it was, it could wait until lunch was done. He chuckled. He could punch through a solid brick wall without hurting his hand, and if the ground was solid enough, he could lift a traincart. But he still had to scrounge for food.

He had arrived in New York only a couple of days ago. No idea why he went here, it just seemed like a good idea. As he walked through Manhattan, he saw someone coming out of the river. "What the.. Hey there! Need some help?"

Tark had a lot of time to think during his swims, and today he took an extra long one. Watching the wild-life beneath the surface of the sea calmed him, even if all the fish scurried away the moment he came near. It reminded him a little of his home planet, where the water reached higher than some of the tallest skyscrapers of New York, and the beurocratic buildings stood even higher above the surface, starting at the bottom.

Had he been at home, he would perhaps have spotted some of the hunters - those of a lower trade than most of his kin, the people responsible for the gathering of food - as they rapidly moved through the waves, using the stream to their advantage upon catching their prey.

Tark had always wondered why his race had been given talons instead of fingers, as the latter would have made stamping a lot easier, but he assumed their food had something to do with it. After all, he found it hard to imagine how one could stamp a crab-like creature to death. Unless one had a really large stamp, of course.

In the end, enough was enough, and he could return to the surface of the Earth. His mood had improved, and he was now pretty sure what to do - he had to find Starbucks Jenna.

"What the.. Hey there! Need some help?"

Tark squinted his eyes a little, looking at a skinny - was it "homeless person?" - staring down at him. The human seemed to offer aid, and he was more than happy to accept. "Yes, thank you. Could you inform me of the proper forms to fill out, if one wishes to travel to a location known as 'Lous Angel-Ees'? I need to find someone," he informed the human, twisting his jacket to get some of the water out.

Hours later, somehow un-sunburnt, and with his other two pastries miraculously not ruined or stolen, Connor awoke on the beach under a mysterious umbrella. The good Samaritan who had place the umbrella mysteriously absent, Connor decided to wait for them to get back. After about ten minutes, a young woman at least five years his junor who appeared to be an environmentalist or some other sort of new-ager sat under the umbrella next to him with a calzone. He got out one of his cinnamon buns in response, and the two of them ate quietly. Finally, the hippy set her calzone back in the takeaway box, smiled and asked, "Isn't there something you'd like to tell me?"
For a moment Connor was stumped. The words came to him at last, "Thank you." After taking another bite from his cinnamon bun, he asked, "What time is it?"
The hippy put her hand to her forehead in order to shield her eyes from excess light in order to look at the sun, which was hanging out over the ocean- and she answered, "Dinner time. Sun'll be setting pretty soon; and then it will be night time." She smiled contentedly. "You were out like a light all day, boy, what on God's green earth did you get your hands on and who did you get it from?" The scientist registered that this woman thought him to be a brother in the pursuit of mind-altering experiences. Considering the circumstances, he couldn't hold the assumption against her.
He replied honestly, "I wasn't on anything but sleep deprivation. I'm really stressed out since I got suspended from work- I would probably benefit from some relaxing shit right now." He considered winking but decided against it. He had stated his desire for marijuana more than adequately with the verbal hint, he figured.
The hippy laughed, "Ha what a coincidence, I was just thinking about doing a little relaxing myself." She got out a discreet, cigarette-like joint. Things were about to get pretty nice.

It had never been revealed to the public why Ian (C.) Cross had suddenly moved out of his brother's mansion to live by himself. The two siblings had always gotten along well, and it was a known fact that he was one of the few people the young eccentric actually appreciated to have in his life. A rumour went, saying that the brothers reminded each other of their dearly beloved, deceased, father, and therefore had decided to split so they wouldn't have to live with the pain. Both Ian and Joseph had laughed heartily at that accusation.

No, it was hard to say why Ian had decided to get his own apartment. It could be partly because he was a very annoying person to live with, and he really was beginning to get on his brother's nerves. It could be that it was the other way around, but if asked, the both of them would simply shrug. Truth be told, Ian didn't really know.

But he really did like the apartment. Sure, it was dingy, old, half-destroyed after two years of exposure to Ian, but it was his. He paid for it with his own money, and should be allowed to do with it as he wanted, much to the landlady's dismay.

He spent most of his time here, conducting his experiments and nourishing his insanity in silence. Even though he did, arguably, have many discussion with himself, and his cat, to break it every now and then. He and the cat had a tendency to gang up on him, which really made the discussion quite depressive.

As Joseph stepped through his door, Ian was currently placed on the floor, lying flat to level with the mentioned animal, staring into it's eyes. The business man stared at his brother for a few seconds, before clearing his throat.

"Ian, tell me you're not trying to read the cat's mind again," he said with a sigh, heading for one of the more comfortable chairs in the room that had yet to meet with Ian's wrath.

"We're having a staring contest," Ian mumbled, not taking his eyes of the creature. "And she's cheating," he complained.

"Are you sure she's aware of the rules?" His brother sounded amused, crossing his feet while waiting for Ian to catch interest in something else.

"No," he answered, thinking for a moment. "So that's why she's been blinking," he sighed heavily, letting his forehead connect with the floor. "I'm bored."

The cat, however, seemed to take Ian's sudden loss of eye-contact as a challenge, and pounced on him, missing his head and landing on his back. It immediately decided that the blunder needed to be corrected somehow, and began to settle down for a nice snooze.

"Now that we have that settled," Joseph said, finally catching Ian's attention. "I brought with me some files for you to look at. I think you'll find them interesting," he talked while bringing up the small suitcase he always seemed to bring with him, scooting it over to his brother. "There's been some mysterious readings coming from America," Joseph explained. "And for once it has something to do with a business we own, so I don't feel so bad for sending you over there," he ended.

He looked at Ian, who was barely listening, and sighed. "The landlady told me you've been throwing axes at the new painting I gave you, I thought you might use something to do for a small while."

Ian rolled over, ignoring the protests of an angry cat, while reading the files Joseph had handed to him. The cat, now extremely insulted, walked over to a strangely fluffy, pink, carpet in the corner, and lay down with her back towards them.

"Why do you even keep a cat," Joseph pondered, "you don't like animals."

"It protects me against mummies," Ian answered as if it was the simplest thing in the world. After that, the brothers fell silent, as Ian considered if the mission was worth his time.

"Yes, thank you. Could you inform me of the proper forms to fill out, if one wishes to travel to a location known as 'Lous Angel-Ees'? I need to find someone,"

Proper forms? Oh great, first guy today and he's a crazy person. Still.. "Uhm. Sure I do... It might cost a bit though... Got cash?" Maybe food was happening after all. Lous Angel-ees? Find someone? This guy was in for quite a ride.

When Anya woke up the sun was already seeping it's way through a crack in her curtains, lighting up the room with it's cheerful glow, tinging everything with gold. It was sickening. "I move to New York, I surround myself with skyscrapers and car fumes, and yet still I have to put up with this nuisance. I'll have to speak to Gaspard about this, perhaps something can be done..." she mumbled to herself, wiping her eyes and stretching her arms above her, though making no move to get up from her four-poster bed. The bed was much like the rest of the room, luxurious, expensive and almost distastefully gaudy. Just the way Anya liked it. She waited for a few minutes, looking from the ticking clock on her bedside table to the door, her expression growing increasingly unimpressed. After quarter of an hour had passed Anya decided action would have to be made. Reaching up to the wall behind her, her hands quickly finding the rope, she gave it a furious tug, then another for good measure. Instantly a resounding boom of electronic bells was let loose, echoing throughout the apartment, enough to send any human head ringing. A few seconds later the bedroom door cracked open and a tentative male head appeared, the rest of his trembling body eventually following, "Madam...?" he squeaked.
Anya sighed, putting one hand to her forehead before speaking very slowly "Gaspard, I thought I told you that I wanted to have the maid enter my bedroom the second I woke up. These limbs aren't going to get dressed themselves!"
The small man took a handful of steps forwards, wringing his hands in an almost comical show of anxiety "Ms Rusalka, I thought it was understood, as of yet, we don't have any maids with mind-reading capability...In fact we don't have any maids at the moment, you got drunk, I mean indisposed, on a glass of peach schnapps and forced them all to act out Les Misérables for you. When you realised that none of them knew how to sing Castle on a Cloud in Russian you fired them all."
Anya sat in the bed, staring at the cringing man in front of her for a minute, her eyes dull as her mind whirred. Damn that peach schnapps, it had got the best of her again, she knew she should have stopped after that first mouthful but it tasted so good. "So..." she eventually said, her brows furrowing "...I'm going to have to dress myself?"
Gaspard swallowed, looking behind him at the open door, calculating whether he could make it out in time before she hit him. If only this job didn't pay so well he'd have retired months ago, before that fiasco in Las Vegas with Tom Jones and the flamingoes. "I'm a-af-afraid so," he whispered, staring at his feet "You will also have to go out to have breakfast."
Silence filled the room for a moment, full of the absence of words but not feelings. If this was a cartoon, thunder would be crackling and storm clouds appearing above Anya's head. The jug of water on the chest of drawers began bubbling, steam rising off it and curling towards the butler. Seconds later the man was darting out of the room, his retreat followed closely by a series of objects crashing against the wall, a leather-bound book catching him on the head just as he made it out. This morning had not started well.



Dressed in a simple shift dress and large sunglasses, ensconced in the back of her private car and with a starbucks coffee in her hand she was beginning to feel a little more human. Well, sort of. She was deciding what to do with her day, her eyes watching the streets out of the open car window flash by when her nose caught a scent of something...interesting. After centuries of hunting men, spending days on end stalking them through desert and jungle, working by nothing but the stink of their sweat, her senses had become rather attuned to the flesh of humans. So when she smelt something decidedly inhuman, her attention was caught. It wasn't a sprite, that was for sure, but it certainly wasn't an animal either. "Stop." Anya growled, cuffing the driver in front of her, sending him screeching to a halt, a series of car horns instantly letting loose a chorus of discord. Opening the car door, she slid out onto the pavement, registering with glee the docks before her. Being around a large body of water was always reassuring. Much to the dismay of her driver, who was now half in and half out of the car, clearly unsure of whether to follow his boss or get in the car before a furious cab driver beat him to a pulp. After a few minutes of hesitating he got back in the car and continued driving. This job wasn't worth having his nose broken again. When Rusalka had decided she wanted to take part in a dirt car race and he had to be the driver was bad enough. Perhaps being a cab driver wouldn't be so bad....

Anya walked along the road, her eyes closed and nose in the air, loudly sniffing and mumbling to herself, people dashing out of her way in fear she turned her clearly crazy antics upon them. The scent grew stronger and stronger until it was so strong it was almost making her gag, and it was then that she opened her eyes. Two 'men stood before her, each of them giving off a smell strong enough to knock an elephant out, one clearly homeless, and one - the interesting one - sopping wet. She arrived just in time to hear the curiousity speak; "Yes, thank you. Could you inform me of the proper forms to fill out, if one wishes to travel to a location known as 'Lous Angel-Ees'? I need to find someone,"

She couldn't help but clap her hands in glee, a rare smile on her lips, he even spoke weirdly. For a day that had started off rather poorly it was taking a definite turn for the better. The homeless man, clearly out to swindle her new beloved, replied ""Uhm. Sure I do... It might cost a bit though... Got cash?"" Anya's smile dissapeared, a scowl darkening her pretty features as she walked quickly up to the two of them. What was it with humans? As soon as they sensed any naivety in a person they sprung upon it, devouring it like greedy wolfs would a lamb. The little mudak. "Zdravstvuyte!" she called, giving a little wave to gain both of their attention, her eyes fixing on the hobo first "How about I give you some money and you leave your new friend here alone, da?" With this she removed a thick roll of cash, petty money, from her pocket and waved it in the air enticingly "I'd kill you, but I promised my butler I'd stop doing that." She looked at the other...being, trying to discern anything inhuman in his appearance but failing "I just hate to see a true foreigner like myself taken advantage of." Wink.

"Uhm. Sure I do... It might cost a bit though... Got cash?"

"Why, yes, I do have a few money -" Tark began, starting to search through his pockets for the small amount of coins that he had picked up during his stay on Earth.

"Zdravstvuyte!" A voice called out from beside them. Confused, Tark turned to look at her, staring with obliviousness at the beautiful creature. Another word he didn't understand, he concluded. Perhaps a cry for attention. Was he doing something wrong?

"How about I give you some money and you leave your new friend here alone, da? I'd kill you, but I promised my butler I'd stop doing that. I just hate to see a true foreigner like myself taken advantage of."

He listened with his mouth near open, looking from the homeless person to the newcomer. "Err," he said, deciding that the situation really was going over the top of his head. Her words made no sense that he could think of. He needed Starbucks Jenna here, she would have explained everything. Suddenly, he realized who her last sentence had been directed at. So, foreigner was the name for it! He wondered which planet she was from, but decided that the conversation could be left for later. He needed to jump back into the conversation, and figure out what was going on.

"Err," he said again. "I think my translator has failed me, could someone explain this in simpler terms?"

- Double posting shall be IGNORED -

"Why, yes, I do have a few money -" "Zdravstvuyte!"

Pete turned to the newcomer.
"How about I give you some money and you leave your new friend here alone, da?" With this she removed a thick roll of cash, petty money, from her pocket and waved it in the air enticingly "I'd kill you, but I promised my butler I'd stop doing that."

Oh great, a soviet with an attitude. "This ain't back home sweetie, can't just go round killin' people round here."

"I just hate to see a true foreigner like myself taken advantage of."

He stepped in between the two. "Pretty sure you mean "another foreigner like myself" there honey, I wasn't tryin' to take advantage of you."

"Err," he said again. "I think my translator has failed me, could someone explain this in simpler terms?"

Translator? What was up with this guy? "Uhm. I think this lady thought that I would try to take your money and run off with it. I was just lookin' for breakfast, and I don't mind takin' a trip to Los Angeles. And if you wanna buy a boy-toy you're one sick puppy, so you can leave now lady. Me and my friend here.." He gestured to Tark. "will have some grub, and then we have a train to catch."