Theodore Jenkins's Story

A bad night had transitioned into a dreadful morning. The only light source in his tiny Bungalow, a bare blub, dirtied and dim, swung lazily from the rafters as Leonardo worked, throwing odd shapes about the room. Or, perhaps, where he should have been working. Instead, he had been spending that last few hours of the precious dawn staring at his construction, wondering what the hell he had been thinking the night before. It should have been simple, a night's work at most, to throw together a compact incinerator upon request of a questionable man who lived in the next Cluster over. Leon never asked why someone would ever need a compact incinerator, because, truthfully, who the hell cared? Could be to burn up some loose papers, or could be to burn up some loose children. Not his problem and Leon had always been a 'No Questions Asked' sort of salesmen. The silly, minimal requests (Or large and highly worrying demands) of the Cluster were what kept Leon and his roommate fed. Well, mostly his roommate.

The before-mentioned doing a world's worth of assistance... By lounging lazily on the window sill. Pixie, a rather fat, but beautifully marked, white cat, let out a long yawn before stretching out her back. While her raven-haired caretaker worked the night away, Pixie had enjoyed a good night's rest. Now that she had awaken, the cat had taken to looking out into the tall-grass fields and rushing water outside their window. She hummed curiously, Leon oblivious to her actions, lost in a world of the sleep-deprived and clueless, Pixie squinting her wide, green eyes to see out of the fogged glass. "Le-Le?" She asked, tilting her head to get a better look at the world beyond their home, the bell about her neck jingling lightly. When Leon didn't answer, she sighed, starting again, much louder this time, "Le-Le!"

Leon jerked out of his half-asleep state, dropping the odds and ends he had been holding onto the table with a clatter. Startled, he placed a hand over his chest, as if to keep his heart from leaping out of it, "What?!" He demanded, taking long breathes to steady himself. Being yanked from daydreams was so much worse than being shaken awake from slumber. Pixie looked over at him, amusement flickering in her eyes, "Oh nothing, really... It's just those girls are at the river again. You know, the ones you stalk. Just thought you might want to know." She spoke with such joy as she poked fun at him, but all that was lost to the meaning of her words.

"Wait, they're there?" Leon got up out of his chair so fast, it fell backward to the floor with a thud, running over to the window to peer out it. He grabbed Pixie under her belly, and tosses her lightly across the room, where she landed safely on what they simply call 'The Nest'. He dragged his sleeve across the glass to wipe away the fog, but paused mid-stroke to throw a look of feigned hurt over his shoulder to Pixie, "I do not stalk them. I..." Leon stole a long look out the window, "Admire from afar...? Alright, no, that makes me sound like a creep. But, I'm not a stalker."

And there they were. Sat on the other side of the Ash River, which looked like flowing lava in the early morning reds. Leon was just so goddamn curious. He wanted to know, he needed to know, who they were, why they were. No one else ever came up to the river on the West Side, none that he's seen, at least. So why them? It was infuriating not knowing. He wanted to know everything about them.

Pixie huffed, settling herself into the blankets that made up The Nest, "Completely a stalker..."