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spyder1070 posted this on Fri Jun 07, 2013 5:31 am | View user's profileSend private messageReply with quote

Wobble Street Blues.

This is just something I wrote to give people something to think about. I'm not assuming that I know, or indeed have any real clue, but eh. Without anything else, all one can do is speculate from here on in.


Outside the terraced town house at 212 Wobble Street, London, sits the Camaro. At least what is left of the vehicle. On cinder blocks, looking quite forlorn and despicably treated. The crumpled front end matches the back. Which makes it quite difficult, for anyone that is not very knowledgeable about cars, to tell the difference between the two. Having fled his pink plastic island, the bassist careened Stylo up and down the streets, looking for a new bolt hole and by the looks of it, had crashed the car into the front yard of the house. Not able to start it again, he'd then given up and decided to stay. The dead plants in the garden and the distinct smell of urine by the front door. In a way reflects the significant mood of the occupants, in particular the bassist, who had become quite used to the high life and far better living conditions, than what he has at the moment. Nastier and colder, it's like the last fragments of who he had been have been sucked from his soul and replaced with a vacuum that sucks anything nice out of everything else. Just so that the older man doesn't have to tolerate looking at it.

Being the only one that is bringing any income into the household now. Stuart had initially assumed that Murdoc would appreciate him better. Very quickly he caught on to how silly that idea was, then as days went by he began to see that he had actually had it a little better back at Point Nemo. At least in the sense that he could occasionally go days without seeing the man, thus didn't have to put up with having to listen to the bassist's constant stream of abuse, mixed with the odd beating or two. Which had meant that he could relax and spend his time doing his own thing without too many interruptions. Unfortunately though, this had meant that the musician had spent far too much time on his own. With his own company, black clouds and pirates to worry about, it was obvious that Murdoc had gone quite mad. The paranoia had grown immensely and the cyborg hadn't helped matters any, but there wasn't much that Stuart could do about it. Except hide in his room and hope that the bassist didn't start believing that he was plotting against him as well and shoot him.

That had passed now and has been replaced with a far more vile and contemptible man, who hates on a level that Stuart didn't believe was possible. Having Noodle and Russel back hadn't helped any. In fact it wasn't until they had that Stuart realised that he had been reminiscing about them through rose tinted glasses. Noodle was older, perhaps wiser than when she had left. But the distance between them was still there and it was that that he had forgotten about. Sure she was nice to him and had talked to him about things. It was never on a level that he could call a close friendship though, it was just something that was nice. To be honest, he was far closer to Murdoc and that was disturbing to think about. Perhaps the word friend never came into it in regards to him, but at least they had made each other laugh sometimes. He couldn't recall if he had ever made Noodle laugh that didn't involve him having hurt himself, or been hurt by someone else. At least the young Japanese woman solved the cyborg problem though. Stuart widens his eyes at that last thought and stares at his bedroom ceiling.

“Woman?” he thinks, still astonished at how much she had grown up since he'd seen her last. The thought that this year she would be 23 years old still amazes him and lifting his hand and looking at it, he suddenly feels so very old.

Shaking that thought out of his head and reminding himself that he's only in his thirties and that can't really be considered as old just yet. Stuart turns his thoughts instead to Russel. Not exactly a mean person as such and if it hadn't been for him, he'd still be floating around inside that whale. Russel seemed to be far more Noodle's friend than anyone's. Possibly due to them having a far greater intellect than his own, not that he's as stupid as Murdoc likes to make out. Where he'd play big brother to Noodle, the man tended either to ignore him or join in with Murdoc and pick on him. But at the end of the day he had, on several occasions, saved him from the extreme side of Murdoc's temper. However he couldn't be considered a close friend either, even though the singer needed to. Just the thought that the only real friend that he had had throughout this, had actually been the bassist, makes him shudder.

Squeezing his eyes shut with pain when his alarm screeches at him to get up again. The singer blindly reaches over and searches for the button, switching it off. Back to the drudgery of normal existence, now that the bright lights of fame had been extinguished by the bassist's endless scheming ways. He waves the odds and has to admit that he's in two minds about that. On the one hand he does miss the screaming fans and the constant attention. Even though he had never really asked for it in the first place. It was more for and about Murdoc, although with Noodle's help, he had caught on that without him the bassist would still be struggling to get the thing off the ground. Not that he'd actually say that to the man's face. On the other hand though, a regular 9 to 5 job is almost better really. It's a steady income and he doesn't have to remain on guard that he'll make headline news if he takes a pee break earlier today than he did yesterday. He smiles at his little joke and waves it off. A regular job for a regular guy and yes, he does prefer the peace and quiet of it, compared to the excitement of fame. The only one who feels that he's been cheated of that life is Murdoc, who is more the type of person who wants and needs that kind of excitement in his life, just to feel alive.

“That Damon guy has had a few mentions,” the singer mumbles with a nod as he slides out from under the covers and stretches his whole body out, raising his arms and hands to the ceiling. Scratching the back of his head with a yawn, he slowly makes his way to the bedroom door. “I know I wouldn't wanna be him, that's for damn sure.” Stepping out of the room he makes his way to the bathroom. One of the things that Murdoc has been doing for a while know, is to ask the blue haired man to check his back. Stating that the knife wounds are feeling particularly nasty today and he's sure that there has to be some new ones. Or something similar. The thing is that Stuart doesn't feel that the bassist is over exaggerating that much when he says that, because he feels a little let down himself by the man's behaviour. No one knew he was even involved with them at first and even after it was- He shakes the thought from his head, realising that he's becoming just as focused as the bassist is on it. Murdoc has muttered and snarled everything that he's thinking anyway. So why mull back over it and annoy himself?

“Not needed? Not needed!” He's heard Murdoc wail that throughout the building, over and over again. Be it early in the morning or late at night, and still Stuart can't find an answer to it himself. Good question really. How exactly can Gorillaz be Gorillaz without them?

“Isn't that who the fans would expect to see, when they came to the performances?” he mumbles questioningly, then shrugs and steps into the shower.

Best to stay away from the musician when he's in those moods, because talking about it isn't really something the bassist wants to do with him. More than likely, if he merely suggested the idea, he'd wind up getting his teeth punched in. Quite simply because punching Damon Albarn himself is out of the question at the moment. Of course, it's not like it happened over night. They all saw this coming but Murdoc chose to mess around with the pirates instead. How many times had he heard the bassist snarl about Albarn “hogging the stage”, yet he never once took the complaint directly to him, he was far too busy scheming and plotting instead. Noodle made the suggestion that he may have thought it was something that he could go back to later. Not realising that once it was all said and done, there was no way back and the Black Clouds/ Pirate conundrum, had taken up all the time that he'd needed to stop the man from shutting him down.

“At least Muds still has his die hard fans,” Stuart grunts as he pours shampoo into the palm of his hand. Pausing for a moment he thinks about that, then sighs and plops it down on the top of his head. The fans that had been far more interested in all the stuff behind the music, the ones that followed their adventures behind the scenes. Asking questions about the whys and what's, the ones that had not really been as focused and interested in the music, as the others. To find them you only have to visit fan art sites, because they haven't gone that far really. Still holding on to the fringes and hoping that the adventures will continue. You only have to ask to see that some of those particular fans, are cursing the Blur front man and screeching betrayal, just as hard as Murdoc is.

Stepping out of the shower when he's done and dropping a towel over his head, Stuart thinks about what may have started the downfall. Noodle, is the name that springs to his mind. Because that's when things seemed to spiral from and that was Murdoc's doing. The fans went crazy when they thought that she'd died. He didn't make it any better with his lies about her being on holiday, but then the retrospect reveals the devilish details and shows that the reasons behind it ran so much deeper than what he'd allowed them to initially see. The very idea that he'd even considered the thought that she'd make a good bartering chip is deplorable. But then, this is Murdoc we're talking about and he doesn't have a problem sinking that low really. Mind you, the true Murdoc fans actually like that about the guy. This stops the singer in his tracks for a moment, and he stands there in front of the mirror staring at himself.

“Even psychopaths care about at least one person though?” he mumbles, then rinsing off his toothbrush under the running water, he drops his brush back into the holder and checks his smile. “I wonder what that makes Muds then?” he mutters, poking his tongue through the gap in his front teeth and wiggling the tip.

He says that he cares about his fans, but then Murdoc is generally the first to create just enough chaos to throw them into a savage loop. Telling them that he's going that way and pointing out the path, then the second they turn their back he dashes into completely the opposite direction. Over and over again he did it, laughing as they searched in the places he wasn't. They never hated him for it, in fact they seemed to like it. Odd, but then he did seem to appreciate their masochistic nature and maybe in his own way that is him saying “I love you” to them. If he didn't, he wouldn't have even bothered doing that much for them. Maybe “love” isn't the word for what he feels for them? Not respect, because that seems wrong to. Thinking carefully he rolls it back through his mind and sees that he had actually said it. He nods and combs his hair quickly, before shutting off the light and heading back to his room. Yeah, appreciation. That's what he feels when it comes to his fans. Not that he'd say it, but then he doesn't have to. If they can't see that he does, then they'd leave and that's how Murdoc picks the good from the bad and doesn't waste time on the ones that he'd consider time wasters. If they really are his fans, then they should already know and he doesn't have to actually say it.

Stopping at Noodle's bedroom door and listening for a moment. He thinks about how much he'd missed her and Russel and how he had come to realise that his reminiscing about them, had been done mostly through rose tinted glasses. Somehow his time at Point Nemo had made him see them much closer to him, than they had actually been. Not close friends. They had never been close. Hard to imagine but honestly speaking, Murdoc and he are far closer and have been for much longer. Once she had gone he had assumed that unless he had a replacement, it was back to being free to being himself for a while. Free from the “Dullard” act that he put on for the sake of the man's ego. It hadn't turned out that way and frankly playing the role of the idiot pissed him off. So to show the bassist that he was tired of being controlled, he started pushing the boundary to see how far he could escape it. It surprised him when Murdoc backed down when he insulted him throughout a whole interview. Even when he dared bring the Paula Cracker incident up, Murdoc didn't slap him back down. Distracted by his ever mounting problems perhaps? It did prove one thing to him though. Murdoc Niccals, the front man and the star of the show, had lost control of the Empire that he had created.

“No wonder the guy looks horrible,” Stuart shudders and continues on towards his room. Dressing and making his way to the kitchen for breakfast, he remembers that moment when that whale that had been stalking him swallowed his room. Typical Murdoc had taken off and left him to fend for himself, so once again it came down to Russel and Noodle to save him, from the chaos that often followed in the man's wake. But then he's always known that about the guy, so why was he surprised when it happened? He shrugs and grabs his toast when it pops up, then sits back down at the table. “Because I'm still waiting for the guy to mellow out and accept that he actually needs people? Crazy talk, it'll never happen.” Dropping his plate in the sink when he's finished, he looks up at the ceiling and wonders if the bassist will make an appearance today. Suddenly the door slams open, starling him into snapping his head down and looking at it. Staring into the bassist's bloodshot eyes, the singer sighs. 'I guess that's a yes then,' he thinks.

“Allo Muds,” he mumbles and slugs back the last of his coffee.

“Piss off,” Murdoc snarls and walks to the table. Accepting that because he needs to leave for work and can't be bothered getting into anything deep at the moment, Stuart heads to the door and nearly steps out of the room. “Oi, take this.” Looking back over his shoulder he sees the older man is holding a piece of paper out at him. So he steps back and takes it, furrowing his brow.

“Um...?”

“I need that stuff. Don't forget it, or I'll go back to stapling things to your forehead so that you can't,” the bassist growls then takes a swig of rum from the bottle that he's holding. Subconsciously rubbing his temple while he reads through the list, the singer sighs heavily and looks up at him.

“I have to got to work Muds,” he moans, knowing that he'll be late if he has to do this first.

“Did I say that I wanted it now?!” Murdoc screeches, tossing the rum bottle across the room and smashing it against the wall, scaring the singer into cringing away into a half curled ball of protection.

“No,” he squeaks quietly. Uncurling when nothing happens, he looks back up and sees Murdoc sitting quietly at the table lighting a cigarette. With nothing more said he reads the list again, then wrinkles his nose in disgust at one of the items. That might explain a lot of his bad mood actually? “Laxatives?” he asks, looking back up at him.

“Sheep,” Murdoc grunts back, then widens his eyes as if he suddenly realised that he had said that out loud. Staring at him in wonder, Stuart opens his mouth as if to ask and sees the slow rise of anger spreading through the man. “Mind. Your. Own. Damn. Business,” the bassist hisses viciously. Nodding and knowing that he'd be crazy to push it right now, the singer grins fleetingly and walks out.

“Good morning Wobble Street,” he smiles when he steps out of the building and pulls the front door shut behind him. Zipping up the front of his jacket, he walks down the steps and along the path, whistling happily to himself and glad that at least for part of the day, he can escape the weirdness that is going on behind him.


_________________
All Hail the Purple Cloud of Mystery.


 


spyder1070 posted this on Sun Jun 23, 2013 2:06 am | View user's profileSend private messageReply with quote

I decided to continue this as a fanfic, written from Stuart's perspective, to put a voice to my thoughts. I'm fairly certain that somewhere along the way, it will trigger my memory and give me the answer to Murdoc's room. But then again I'm not one hundred percent sure, so we'll have to wait and see.

Passing the bassist's bedroom, Stuart can't help but wonder what on Earth is going on in there. Every time he's managed to get a quick peek into the room, it's always been pitch black inside and all manner of noises coming out from it. Never the same ones though, which adds to the intrigue. He's heard the sheep of course. But he's also heard someone crying, wind chimes, the chirp of crickets, ravens, a train whistle, even what may have been thunder. Not that he's entirely certain that that's what it was, but it did sound like it to him. Then of course there's the voices. Sometimes two or three, but on occasion there's been more and they don't quite sound entirely human. Often whispering, he's been unable to make out any distinctive words. Apart from that one time when he inadvertently hit one of them in the face with the electricity bill, after tossing it into the room. Even then he hadn't been able to see who it was, because the room was just too dark to even make out any kind of basic shapes that could be considered a person. Let alone anything else. Another unusual thing that he's taken note of, is the way the darkness behaves. He happened to notice, when he opened his own door one night, that the landing light spilled into the dark room a good foot and a half at least. However, when he's opened the bassist's door, the light appears to stop right at the threshold. Almost as if it's afraid to cross and enter the room.

Back at Kong, there was an almost ominous air around the musician's Winnebago as well. Not as bad as it is now perhaps. But it was certainly enough to give the singer a reason to hesitate a touch, before he knocked on the door. Then again, part of the reason could have been because the bassist had a habit of shouting or snarling at anyone, who dared disturb him while he was in there. At the time, Noodle had suggested that it was the man's mode of escape. A kind of sanctuary that he'd use to unwind and recoup after dealing with people that he didn't want to spend a lot of time with. He understood that of course. But sometimes he'd found himself in situations where he'd have to knock and get Murdoc's attention. Either to deal with packages or mail that arrived, or phone calls. Sometimes though, it was also because he didn't like being alone in the building and wanted the company. Who better to deal with the kinds of dark forces inside that place, than the man who possibly knew best how to?

They of course weren't localised to the “Winnie” alone, or even the underground car park. They were all over the building and the closer you got to the Hell hole in the basement, the worse they seemed to get. That last thought brings the singer's decent down the stairs to an abrupt halt. He quickly turns and looks back up towards the bassist's door, hoping that the older man had learned his lesson and wasn't up there creating a new one. The sound of the door opening, followed by what could only be described as a Caribbean steel drum band. Makes Stuart turn back and hurry back down the stairs, making his way quickly towards the kitchen. Reaching the room ahead of him and seeing that he's alone. The singer flops down into a chair and drops his forehead down onto the surface of the table, closing his eyes and pretending to be asleep. Knowing that when Murdoc arrives he will either ignore him or hit him, he counts on the latter and braces for impact, letting his arms dangle uselessly down by his sides.

“Harrumph. Zoned again, typical,” the bassist grunts as he walks in, then flicking the ear of the limp singer as he passes, he heads to the far end of the table and kicks out a chair. “Wake up you idiot!” he shouts as he flops down into the seat and reaches out for the bottle of rum in the centre of the table. Snapping his head up instantly and staring at the bassist a little bleary eyed, Stuart sits up and yawns, then gazes around the room as if in a daze.

“I was sleeping,” he mumbles, turning back to the man across from him and watching as Murdoc unscrews the lid of the bottle.

“And now you're not,” Murdoc grunts with a vague shrug, then takes a large swig of rum.

Letting his mind slip back to his last thought, Stuart wonders if the older man really would be crazy enough to reopen the Hell hole. Sure the man talks big and likes to portray himself as being intelligent, and to be honest he certainly is in some respects. But Murdoc is just like any other, in the sense that he to is perfectly capable of sheer acts of stupidity at times. It's just that he tends to hide them well and even if he doesn't, is able to make it look as though he did it on purpose, simply because he was bored, drunk or both. Most often it comes off as believable, given the kind of person he is. Still, the singer can't help but see that bored or not, it's still stupidity. The bassist just refuses to accept the fact that he's capable of it and take responsibility for what follows it, that's all. Surely this is different though? He wouldn't risk it and push his luck building another one, would he? Catching the firm look that he's getting, pulls the singer from his musings and back into the room.

“What?” he asks, wrinkling his nose in confusion at him.

“Hells Bells,” Murdoc groans in exasperation, rolling his eyes and slumping his posture down in the chair. “Snap out of it, will you. I've been talking to your arse for the last half hour and I'm tired of feeling like I'm the only damn sod in the room.” Flopping back in the chair, he folds his arms over his chest and looks away, grumbling softly to himself.

“Sorry Muds. I'm listening now,” he mumbles, not too sure if it's what the older man really wants to hear right now. The icy way he snaps his gaze back to the singer and narrows his blood shot eyes, tells him no. But there really isn't anything that he can do about it right now.

Just as the bassist opens his mouth to say something back to him Noodle walks in, still in her pyjamas, rubbing a hand against the back of her head and yawning as if she's only just woken up. The audible click of the older man's teeth coming together catches her attention slightly. She says nothing to either man though, as she wanders over to the cupboard, opening the door and peering inside, almost as though she doesn't even care that they are there. Wearing a small pink cropped top and baggy powder blue tracksuit pants, slung low on her hips and revealing a little more of her midriff, than would be considered decent by some. The way the bassist's eyes widen and his gaze snakes up and down her form, seems punctuated by the slow creep of the corners of the older man's mouth. This tells the singer that whatever is going through the man's head right now, is more than likely inappropriate and something that in earlier years, would have Russel threatening to punch his lights out for it. Just then, the drummers huge index finger punches it's way through the open kitchen window. It slams into the back of the bassist's head and smashes it, face down, onto the surface of the table, then holds it there with Murdoc screeching in protest.

“Eyes down, and you better know that I ain't messing with you about this man,” Russel's voice growls from outside the window.

Shooting a look over to the other window, the singer sees the firm look on the drummers face and grins, knowing that even now Murdoc isn't going to get away with a single lecherous look, at the young woman. Not if Russel has anything to do with it. Pinned with just the right amount of pressure to make it impossible for him to lift his head. Murdoc flails his arms wildly, doing all that he can to reach back and pries the finger from the back of his head. To no avail, he just can't twist his arms far enough to come even close to touching it. All that he is managing to do instead, is to make himself look helpless in quite an amusing way. Sucking his lips back hard and covering his mouth with his hand in an effort not to laugh at the sight. Stuart turns away and sniggers silently over his shoulder, knowing that if Murdoc sees or hears him then he's done for sometime later tonight. Memories of past visits when he was sleeping slip through his mind, giving him more resolve to remain as quiet as possible. Regardless of how hard the bassist's desperate antics are making it.

“I swear, you fat b@stard. If you don't get your damn finger off the back of my head. I'll bloody harpoon you!” Murdoc screeches, still fighting to get free.

Noodle lifts her eyes to the struggling man at the table, but doesn't seem at all bothered by the sight. She presses herself away from the counter and popping a spoonful of muesli into her mouth, drops the spoon into the bowl and flips over a magazine that is sitting on the table. By the looks of it she's not in any hurry to leave the room. Especially given the way she flicks lazily through the magazine, glancing at a few pages. Then with a sigh she closes it and tucking it under her arm, picks up the spoon again and continues eating, as she slowly meanders from the room. Only when she's out of sight, does the drummer finally lift the pressure and pull his finger back out through the window. The rapid way the bassist jumps up and swings around like a viper, tells Stuart that if Russel had of been standing there, the musician would have quite probably launched himself at him in an attempt to take the man down. Not that he'd ever been successful in the past in his attempts. But it never stopped him before and reveals just how furious he is right now. Which is why the singer instantly slips into zoned out mode. So long as Murdoc believes that he hadn't witnessed it, whatever may follow won't be anywhere near as bad as it could be. Spluttering in frustration the bassist straightens his shirt, ignoring the sound of Russel climbing back up onto the roof and moving instead to a place by the wall.

“Now,” he grunts at the younger man as he lights up a cigarette, lifting his eyes to him to be sure that he's snapped him out of his daydream and focused him back onto himself. “Where were we?” he adds and pockets his lighter, watching the way the singers eyes widen and he wrings his hands nervously, not knowing what will happen next. Whatever is going on behind those black eyes, Stuart is sure that he's about to come off worst. He always does.


_________________
All Hail the Purple Cloud of Mystery.


 


spyder1070 posted this on Wed Jun 26, 2013 7:43 am | View user's profileSend private messageReply with quote

“I don't care!” Murdoc's voice screeches throughout the building, snapping Stuart from a very nice daydream that had him floating down the river on a raft. Just like that Huckleberry Finn fellow that Twain guy wrote about. Any minute he was going to round the next bend and see a paddle steamer. All white with brass glinting in the early morning light, floating peacefully across the water and full to bursting, with gamblers from places unknown. Of course Murdoc had to spoil it. It wouldn't be a full day if he didn't. Surprise surprise, the man doesn't care about something. Morals perhaps, or maybe people? Maybe there should be a book started and everyone could take bets? He taps his finger to his chin, wondering what it might be that stands proud for him, as something not to care about this morning.

“Probably something that will eventually back down again, so that he can go on to not caring about something else by this afternoon,” he mutters and slips off his bed. Spitting a swear word when his foot treads on something sharp, he hops and reaches down for it, pulling it out. A shard of glass glints in the light and smells distinctly like Murdoc's favourite brand of rum. The singer rolls his eyes and mutters about being tired of having to tiptoe around the man's destruction, then tosses the glass in the bin. Limping down the hall he makes his way to Noodles room. In the past the young woman had plastered his various injuries, maybe she'd do it again? At the same time he could learn a little more about her. Since coming back from Hell she's not been as talkative as she once was, so it's hard for him to know if she's okay. He pauses at her door and thinks that back through. Shaking his head and coming to the conclusion that it's obvious that she's not. After all, who could be after being in such a place?

“Besides Murdoc,” he mumbles and knocks on the door.

“Yes?”

“Um Noo, can I come in?” There's silence for a moment, before he hears a heavy sigh.

“Hai.” Opening it slowly he gingerly steps in the room, looking around at the mess and instantly thinking how unusual that is for her. Typically fastidious in the past, aside from perhaps the odd dropped item. Now there is a definite air of untidiness. Not that it's really bad, just disorderly. A five minute spritz around the room would have it back in shape in no time. It's mostly clothes that have been dropped on the floor and a few magazines scattered around the room. Usually her clothes would have been neatly folded or hung on hangers, not dumped and crumpled like- “Hey!” Instantly snapping out of it, Stuart steps straight back onto his wounded foot and yelps with pain. Looking down at it, the young woman huffs and reaches down, grabbing his ankle then forcing him to hop backwards a few paces and dropping down onto the bed.

“I stepped on some glass,” he moans softly, watching the way she's studying the cut carefully, before she opens a drawer on her side table and rifles through it.

“Mm,” she grunts, looking a bit too busy to really say much for the moment. So Stuart waits, reclining back on his elbows with his foot resting softly on her shoulder.

“You better not be messing where you shouldn't be in there?” Russel's voice snarls from the window.

Sitting up sharply, he looks back at the warning eyes that are staring at him, gritting his teeth and looking down at Noodle who has just found the sticking plasters. Someone else who seems to have changed somewhat, not that that was unexpected either. Still defending his “little sister” from the wolves of the world who'd try to take her from him and defile her innocence. He probably feels even more protective, because he couldn't do a thing for her when she was lost to them all. Saving whatever is left perhaps? As much as he doesn't blame him, he still wishes that the guy could see that he feels the same way. If he had known what the bassist had planned for her, then he would have gladly put a bullet into the back of his head to stop it. Pausing at that thought for a moment Stuart changes his mind. Maybe not that then, but he would have found a way anyway.

“It's okay. He's hurt his foot and I'm fixing it, that's all,” she says in reply, then drops the older man's appendage off her shoulder and stands up. “Don't move.” Watching her make her way to the ensuite, Stuart catches Russel's eyes in his periphery, still angrily staring at him.

“I mean it man,” he growls deeply, before finally disappearing again. Huffing in annoyance, Stuart looks down at his lap, wishing that the drummer would stop comparing him to Murdoc all the time.

“She's like my damn sister bruv,” he mutters with an uncomfortable shiver at the thoughts now cycling around in his head.

He'd never see her as much more than that as far as he's concerned. They'd grown together in that sense so it's not that easy not to imagine a sibling type bond developing. She'd been changed by the secret program sure, but she was still a little girl at heart. The secrets still locked away in her mind that she'd never told anyone, a hidden glint of sadness in her eyes, lost behind a thick fringe that blocks out part of the world that maybe she just doesn't want to see. The things that she has seen already would take many years of therapy to get over. Monster and ghosts, zombies and demon possessions. Did she really need this one last thing in her small life? The answer is no, and her coldness is proof of that. Murdoc may have endlessly said that she wasn't a little girl any more, but he was wrong. She was and an innocent one at that. Maybe that was why he chose her? The innocence was the price and in the end took most of the collateral damage. To then come back to the man that had done this seems odd, but then maybe it was simply that she had no where else to go. Back to the one that destroyed her innocent soul, the one who looks at her now through lecherous eyes. The one who is more the kind to wave off such things and take a chance, but that's because the man has no scruples. Lifting his head when she returns and smiling at her, he sees the coolness in her eyes as she squats back down beside the bed.

“You should check your floor after this. Ever heard of a vacuum?” she asks. Opening and closing his mouth in surprise, he's about to answer when she suddenly grabs his foot and lifts it up again, dropping him flat onto his back. That's rich, he thinks when he lifts his head, looking around at the disarray of her own room. The rough way she wipes his injury down then dries it, makes him yelp a little; His thoughts once again heading back to the gentle young girl she'd been before, smiling as she carefully tended to his various cuts. “There, you can go now.” She stands and nudges him from her bed, scrunching up the paper envelope from the bandage and tossing it in the bin. Getting to his feet the singer takes one last look back at her as he limps towards the door, before he sighs heavily and steps out of the room.

“You're not my Noo,” he growls in annoyance, furrowing his brow and making his way carefully down the corridor. Colder and less inclined to gentleness than she had been before. At least she was still nice enough to help him though, so it's not like she's completely gone. Perhaps being in that place forced her to grow up in an instant. The sights and sounds of Hell would have been horrifying and it wouldn't be the kind of place to put anything, then expect it not to change them inside.

“Why are you still here?” Murdoc snarls as his lift chair whirs around the corner.

Blinking at that the singer searches his mind for an appropriate response. With the number of times the bassist has done this, ringing through his head. Vague questions with several possible reasons why they've been asked. The meaning lost behind a veil of cigarette smoke and contempt. On purpose of course, only to make him seem far more intelligent. Half of the frustration he feels at the world is due to his own refusal to let people know exactly what he's thinking or what he wants when he makes demands such as these. He'd be easier to please, if he'd just open his damn mouth and tell me what he bloody wants properly, the sod.

“Huh?” he finally grunts, unable to work out where the man might expect him to be. Rolling his eyes the bassist hits the chair button to stop it's decent, then stares at him angrily chewing on the butt of his cigarette.

“The bitch is asking about the foreclosure and your suppose to be out there working to stop it. So where do you think you should be, yah, yah... twit?” he snarls back. Raising an eyebrow the singer shrugs his shoulders heavily.

“It's Saturday Muds?” he grunts in confusion. Widening his eyes a touch, the bassist rams the chair in reverse and heads back up towards Stuart, who begins backing up away from him further. Stopping it again at the corner the bassist moves to climb out, then seems to change his mind and sits forwards instead.

“Do you have a problem getting a part-time weekend job?” he growls in irritation.

“I hurt my foot,” Stuart replies, lifting it and pointing the injury out. Taking a quick glance down at it then back up again, Murdoc rumbles out a dog like growl that reverberates around the singers head like a heavy cloud. He then sits back in the chair and slams it into forward gears again, staring at the younger man as the chair begins descending back down the stairs.

“Lazy b@stard.... Chop the damn thing off,” he mumbles through clenched teeth as he slowly slips away. “Ingrate!” he finally calls when he's out of sight.

Making his way slowly back to his room later, Stuart flops down onto the bed and pulls his laptop closer, continuing the search he'd been doing on the internet; in regards to Hell holes. Not that he's found many references to the kind that he'd seen in Kong's basement. Of those he had seen it merely stated what he already knew. That it was a passage to Hell, but little else that really told him much more than that. Thinking about it a little more, he types in darkness and scrolls through the list to something more appropriate. That was the most prominent thing about Murdoc's room, so perhaps if he starts with that then he'll find what he's really looking for, and suddenly finding himself looking at Christian sites he sighs and reads what they have to say. Slowly his eyes widen in surprise and he looks towards the doorway and flicks off the laptop.

“Poor sod,” he gasps silently, then shakes his head correcting himself. “Silly sod more like,” he adds as he places the device on his side table lifting his legs onto the bed and laying back with his hands behind his head. On the one hand, if what he read is right then Murdoc has finally got his just desserts, but on the other knowing that that's up there, perhaps he needs to once again consider getting the Hell away from the guy. This last thought brings a chuckle of amusement from the singer and he rolls onto his side. Because right now that is probably what Murdoc wishes would happen, but then they did say that it would be for all eternity and he would have known that himself. So really his stupidity has come home to roost and no one can do a darned thing about it.

“But he's not dead though?” Stuart suddenly says, sitting up sharply on the mattress. Knitting his brow and gazing back out to the landing, he slides his legs down from the bed. Standing and making his way over he peers towards the bassist's door. His mind ticking quietly while he taps his index finger against the frame; Almost as if he's punctuating each individual thought off with the tap of his finger. “And he can come out here?” Slowly moving out of his room, he stands there wondering if that's significant. If he's not dead, in Hell but can come out and be with us here, what does that mean? Grabbing his laptop again he switches it back on to do another search. There just has to be someone out there that knows what this is? Looking at the results, he sees something that peaks his interest.

“What the Hell is outer darkness?” he mumbles clicking the link


_________________
All Hail the Purple Cloud of Mystery.


 


spyder1070 posted this on Tue Jul 02, 2013 8:28 am | View user's profileSend private messageReply with quote

Still not able to wrap his head around what he had read on the internet about “outer darkness”, in association with Murdoc's bedroom. Stuart had spent the whole of last night after everyone had gone to bed, either pacing back and forth on the doorstep, or sitting at the table in the kitchen drinking vast amounts of coffee. Having made his way through two and a half packets of cigarettes, his lungs now feel as raw and irritated as they had been, when Murdoc stole his organs back in Kong. At the time he had distinctly said “borrow” and told him it was purely a publicity stunt and that he'd get them back. After about three weeks of waiting though, any and all questions about whether that had been true or not were answered. When the bassist stated quite firmly that he had no idea what he was talking about and suggested that he should stop sniffing the drain cleaner before breakfast. “It's clearly affecting that pea that you refer to as yer brain, pillock.” Realising that once again he'd been lied to and treated like nothing more than spare parts. Stuart when on a crash diet of high vitamin and protein supplements, added to his regular meals, then quit smoking and drinking cold turkey, detoxing himself back to something akin to normal. If that was what it felt like to be the bassist, it in a way partly explained why he was so cranky in the mornings. Hard to breath and judging from the colour of his urine, something was breaking down and it was a surprise that he was functioning at all.

Coughing heavily into his fist with the first rays of morning creeping over the rooftops of the buildings across the street. Stuart pulls the front door open and makes his way inside. Looking up the stairwell and picturing the open door and the darkness inside the bassist's bedroom. He swallows hard and rubs his throat with his fingers, cursing the man because once again his health is suffering because of him. Cancelling that thought with a sigh, he slumps his shoulders. Having to admit at least that it wasn't as though Murdoc had forced him to start smoking and drinking again. True enough being kidnapped by Boogie and in the basement of a plastic island with a whale stalking him had made him nervous enough to do that on his own. But at no point has he ever physically forced them down his throat. He could have easily said no and apart from being called names, the bassist won't have done a thing about it.

“Why does he always seem to be able to make me feel bad, even when he ain't in the damn room?” he groans softly as he trudges up the stairs, rubbing a hand over his chest and wincing at the heavy sensation in his lungs.

Thinking back to his “darkness” problem, in the past he had sometimes gone to Noodle to solve things that bothered him the most. Things that Murdoc had said or done, that didn't make a whole lot of sense to him, that she had seemed to know a whole lot about. Amazing for one so young really. Until of course you take into account her “secret training” as part of the kid army. Most of it she's still kept to herself, but the very idea that all those kids had been put down like animals still makes the singer cringe in horror. Mind you, the things that she's been subjected to, just by hanging around with them...? He pauses and thinks about it. The fun that they had had together and the smile on her face as she sat on her bed and played with her Tamagochi back in Kong, changes his mind. Maybe a little too grown up. But it wasn't really that bad a life as it could have been if they hadn't met her. There's still the sneaking suspicion that given how secretive she's become, perhaps she won't be as willing to share as she had been before. Of course if he doesn't at least try to talk to her, then he'll never know. Sucking a breath to build a little courage, he comes to a stop at her door and pauses before lifting his hand and knocking quietly.

Slowly creeping the door open when she grunts at him to come in, he sneaks a look through the gap in the door, to the young woman sitting up with her back against the bed head. One leg straight and one bent at the knee with a lazy arm draped over it. Her head is bowed and her fringe hides much of her face, until she slowly turns it to look back at him and reveals one of her emerald green eyes. In the dim sunlight light that has managed to find a small sliver of a crack between the curtains. The greenness seems almost iridescent and sparkles between deeper and lighter shades of green. Eerier still is the silence that hangs around her form, like a cool breath of air. Wispy and light it flows up towards him, pressing a short breath from his lungs and carrying with it the scent of a soft perfume that the singer isn't too sure of. He swallows hard, not quite sure if he should do this now that he's here looking at her.

“I was sleeping,” she says in a quiet voice, reaching over blindly without taking her gaze from his and slipping a cigarette from the side table next to her. Flitting his eyes to it rather than her eyes, he watches her pop it between her lips and light it up. Still shocked that his little Axe Princess has picked up the habit. She draws slowly almost seductively, but for the cold glint deep in her pupil, blowing a smoke ring before dropping the lighter back down on the table. “What?”

“Not used to you smoking, sorry,” he mumbles and drops his gaze to the floor. She lowers her gaze to the burning end of the cigarette, almost as if thinking about that for a moment.

“Mm, it is a filthy habit really,” she responds and wrinkling her nose, stabs it back out then picks up a bottle of perfume and sprays the air around her. That scent from before hits Stuart's nostril and he lifts his head taking a deep sniff.

“What is that?” he breathes softly with a smile and gazes down at her, suddenly the coolness seems lifted from the room and she begins to look like her old self again.

“Shiragiku,” she replies, tossing the bottle into a drawer and shutting it with one of her delicate long fingers. “White chrysanthemum, but you surely didn't come here to talk about perfume, did you?” Gesturing to a chair in the corner of the room, she invites him in further, settling back against the bed head with a bottle of juice and taking a sip.

“No,” Stuart replies as he pulls the chair over closer to the side of the bed, then taking a seat with a sigh he tries to think of a way to ask without upsetting her or causing any Hellish flashbacks.

He'd seen Murdoc do that once, not that he assumes that it was in any way on purpose at the time. She almost looked as though someone had just slapped her in the face hard, before she turned on him with a rage that seemed to come from the very depths of where she'd been and tried to claw his eyes out. Lucky for the bassist's street fighting moves, he darted out of the way and veered around towards the door. Taking off faster than Stuart had ever seen him move before and disappearing back upstairs and into his room with the young woman hot on his heels. She'd stopped right at the threshold, gripping the door frame so tightly in her fingers, that she left deep gouges in the wood as she dragged them down. Something had stopped her from entering, not that the singer knows what it was. But even though she was clearly still huffing with rage she turned away. Then snarling angrily she headed back to her own room, slamming the door and locking it tightly and pacing back and forth for the rest of the night. He lifts his head and jerks back a little, when he catches the way Noodle is snapping her fingers in front of his face trying to get his attention.

“Are you asleep over there?” she asks. He shakes his head and shoots her a fleeting smile, then sits forwards, taking a deep breath.

“I've been trying to to work something out but I'm kind'a at a... crossroads?” she nods and sips her juice again. “Thing is, I don't wanna upset you so if you don't feel like it, it's okay I understand.” She regards him closely for a moment, then looks away. Almost as if she's weighing the odds up before she speaks.

“Anyone else, I might have considered that as you simply kissing my ass,” she grins slyly, turning her eyes only towards him. Seeing him purse his lips as though about to respond, she shake her head and lifts a hand. “I know that you're not like that with me Stuart.”

“I've been trying to work out what Muds is doing in his room. I thought at first that he was building another Hell hole? I'm not too sure about that though. I mean, he's sort of the kind that would, you know?” Looking up to see how she's taking this, he sees the way she has gripped the little glass bottle so tightly that her knuckles have turned white. “See, that's what I mean. That's what I didn't wanna do,” he adds and presses himself up from the chair.

“Sit down!” she spits firmly in reply, slitting her eyes at him and bringing the older man to a complete stop. Halfway between standing and sitting, he widens his eyes at the look that he's getting and for a moment isn't at all sure what to do. “Please?” she adds much more softly and looks away again. He does as asked and watches her roll her shoulders in the joints, relaxing herself again before he continues.

“Do you think he would, cause really I don't know?” he asks when she looks back at him.

“He might be arrogant, but I think that Murdoc has finally burned all of his bridges there and he knows it,” she replies dismissively.

“Even if he's done stupider things before?” Stuart adds to get a more detailed answer to his question.

“Mm. I know what you mean and yes in the past he would have done. But recent events would have made it perfectly clear to him that there is no way back. Arrogant perhaps, but the man does have a clear intellect and a ferocious survival instinct. You have to take all of his traits into account to see the man for what he is,” she shrugs. Stuart thinks about that and catches her point. To know who Murdoc is you do have to look at him as a whole. Everything that he has said and done in the past is a clear line drawn in the sand, to the man that he is today. “Things have changed and he's lost his sway there. You can see it written all over him.” Thinking about that he has to agree, he hasn't been looking too well since escaping the island.

“Outer darkness is something... else?” His voice peters to a whisper on his lips and he stops speaking.

The gleam in her eyes begins to burn a little brighter. Almost as if a fire just roared to life behind them. The same as when she exploded in rage at Murdoc in the kitchen and chased him back to his room. He slowly rises from his chair, watching the heave of her chest and listening to the soft growl that's coming from her throat. Looking back to the open doorway in his periphery as he slides around the arm and slowly raising a compliant hand as he backs up, he stays low and hunched to offer some kind of visual gesture of submissiveness. When he reaches the door he turns and takes off at a sprint, not bothering to waste any time looking behind him instead more than likely that she's back there. Reaching his room he hears something thunk into the wall behind his head and with a yelp continues on even faster to the bassist's room and reefing it open and dashing in with a single movement. The fear that he's in the dark room with who knows what is nothing compared to the fury of the woman snarling at him from the open doorway. At least now he knows that she won't dare step in here, but then he doesn't want to be in here either. She slaps the wall and with a huff storms off, but he remains where he is in the dark for just a breath longer. The shudder of something invisible reaching out for him makes him dash forwards to the light again and pressing himself back from the railing he watches the door slam shut all by itself.

“What the Hell is going on in there?” he grunts, still shaking with fear before checking the stairs to be sure that she hadn't been waiting for him. Seeing that the coast is clear he sighs and slowly heads back to his room. Annoyed that he'd pulled something from her mind that perhaps she had been trying not to remember. “Outer darkness?” he mumbles as he slowly clicks his door shut. Something about those two words seems important and it certainly set Noodle off. So perhaps he needs to find out exactly what it was?


_________________
All Hail the Purple Cloud of Mystery.


 


spyder1070 posted this on Sat Jul 06, 2013 12:29 am | View user's profileSend private messageReply with quote

Lifting his head and staring into the two emerald green eyes, that are staring at him from the head of the kitchen table. Stuart slows his pace and and comes to a stop just inside the doorway. Hoping that the young woman isn't still angry with him, but just to be on the safe side, he adjusts his stance and leans the majority of his weight onto his front foot. Which should give him a fairly good launching pad, if she makes any sudden move to stand and come after him and finish what she'd started. Her eyes seem to be sparkling in the pale yellow light. Shining down on the centre of the kitchen table, from the bare single bulb that is suspended from ceiling by a ratty looking cord. The hypnotic dance of light and dark, as her pupil dilates and her lids narrow a fraction on seeing him. Time seems to slow down and the echoing thump of blood in his ears, is much louder than normal. The flood of adrenaline into his system, makes his own vision sharpen enough, to pick up the slight sheen of sweat over the surface of the young woman's skin. He slowly slides his hands down the front of his jeans to wipe his own sweat from his palms. Then tenses when she takes a deep breath and holds it, sure that she has made the decision to attack him. Quickly shifting his weight in preparedness, he sees her move and isn't prepared to wait another second. So he turns back towards the doorway at the same time as he bounces himself there as well, to get ahead of her.

“Mind where you go yah prat,” Murdoc grunts when he crashes squarely into him, the singer is then is rudely shoved back into the kitchen and slapped towards a chair.

Seeing the way the bassist freezes and grunts at the sight of the young woman in his favourite chair at the head of the table. Stuart shoots a quick look from one to the other, not sure where to place himself if they both explode. Spitting the toothpick that he'd been chewing out of the side of his mouth and gritting his teeth at her, he approaches the table and rests his palms flat down on the surface and eyes her angrily. Gritting his teeth the singer lifts a tentative finger and nervously clears his throat in the hopes of calming things down again.

“Um I-”

“Oi you,” Murdoc interjects, not even hearing the singer. Snarling in a low grumbling voice that sends a horrible shiver up Stuarts spine. Which makes him visually shudder, in a spasmodic dance of discomfort. She harrumphs firmly back at the bassist, but shows no sign at all that she intends to move. Instead, Noodle continues leaning forwards across the table, to retrieve the box from the centre of it, then retakes her seat and pours cereal into her bowl with a splash of milk.

“Stuart,” she says softly to the anxious singer with the faint hint of a smile on her face, disarming the worry and calming his mind of any thoughts, that she was at all interested in coming after him at all.

He then grins sheepishly back at her and quickly takes a seat, watching as she takes another empty bowl from the stack on the table and pours him some cereal out as well. He feels a wave of warmth move through him when she slides it over, with memories of her doing this in Kong flooding his mind. Back to the considerate moments and simpler times. Well, simpler in the sense that he had gotten used to the weirdness of the place by the time they had left. Now he guesses, he'll have to start again with this place. That's so long as they solve the foreclosure problem and don't find themselves out on the street. He suddenly realises that she has so far, barely even looked in the bassist's direction. This makes him shoot a look over at the musician, who is now staring with blazing eyes at her, while clawing huge gouges out of the table top with his talon like nails. With more precious seconds ticking by without either one doing or saying anything to ease the tension. Murdoc finally snaps and grabs the back of the chair closest to her, wrenching it out from the table as noisily as he can. Not taking his gaze from her face for even a second, he straightens up slowly and steps to the side of the chair. Still waiting for a reaction but not getting one, before finally giving in completely and taking a gruff seat.

“Bitch.”

“When you apologise, I will stop treating you like a distended piece of goat rectum,” she suddenly answers in response, popping a spoonful of cereal in her mouth, then turning the page on the music magazine that she is reading. Murdoc's mouth drops open in shock at this, then snaps shut again with a solid click of his teeth.

“Apo-? F.uck you I will,” he grunts back, looking her up and down in utter disgust. She shrugs dismissively and closes her magazine, standing and picking it up with the smallest of glances in the older man's direction.

“Not if you were the last man alive,” she grins as she makes her way to the kitchen door, taking her magazine and breakfast with her and sliding a comforting hand over Stuart's shoulder, as she passes him. More confirmation that she has forgotten the incident in her room and wishes to smooth things over. Mouthing the words back to himself, to further understand their meaning. Murdoc catches the thread from the last thing that he had said and grits his teeth angrily, as she steps from the room and rounds the corner.

“Oh please. I'll bet you scream my name, every time your hand comes within inches of your mini Japan, yah frigid cow!” Murdoc shouts after her, then grins in triumph when she suddenly steps backwards into the doorway and shoots him a viciously cold look. “Well, that certainly got your attention,” he purrs in amusement. She rolls her eyes and continues on her way, refusing to give him the satisfaction of engagement and another chance to insult or belittle her in any way. This has the same effect as a smack in the face would have. Which is shown in the instantaneous look that strikes his face, when he sees that she's walking away from him.

“Allo Muds,” Stuart says quietly. Once again hoping to cut through the thickening atmosphere and calm the bassist's building mood. He knows about his need for acknowledgement and his grandiose behaviour. All designed to train the eye away from the other band members on the stage and onto him instead. The endless interruptions when the others are speaking, not to mention his constant limelight hogging manoeuvres during interviews. No matter who he was with or where he happened to be. If no one appeared to be paying attention to him, he'd always do something to change that as quickly as possible.

“What?” Murdoc snaps viciously, turning his darkening eyes from the doorway and onto the singer. Stuart instinctively pulls away a touch, then clears his throat.

“I said allo bruv,” he repeats confidently, then picks up his spoon and bowl and begins eating his breakfast.

Now that the bassist is focused back on him, it's sure to stay there. Given that in the past things tended to fall that way, that he has seen over the years at least. The heavy huff of breath that the older man snorts at him through his nostrils, is like a balloon popping and returning the air to the room. All the pressure rushes out and the singer feels that he can take a much deeper breath again. Confirming his belief and relaxing his fear that the man is about to rush out and try to take the young woman down. But on lifting his gaze to the bassist to check, he sees the way that the older man slowly seems to droop down and flop back into his chair. The slumped posture and listless way he's sitting, with his head bowed so low that his chin is touching his chest. Suddenly makes Murdoc seem far older than his 47 years. For a moment Stuart gets the sense that he's not looking at the same man that he'd known, just a few years ago. Which once again casts a thread of memories and thoughts, that he begins to follow.

Not that it's not to be expected. Age, after all, is an inevitability that they will all have to face in time. It's just that the way Murdoc looks at the moment, Stuart almost expects to look up and see a headstone behind the man's head. Which makes him secretly grin and try to imagine what might be written there. Here lies a nasty git. Nasty in life, as in death and getting worse by the second. Doing his best not to grin too widely at that. Stuart tries to work out what kind of epitaph Murdoc would give himself instead. Murdoc Niccals. Still just as sexy. This makes the singer snort loudly and he snaps his gaze up in time to see that the bassist is now eying him suspiciously. Thinking quickly the singer puts his bowl down and rubs his wrist with his nose, softly coughing into his other hand to give a possible reason for the snort.

“Sneezed,” he grunts and gets up from the table, heading to the cupboard by the fridge where the first aid kit and other miscellaneous items are kept.

Grabbing a tissue and wiping his nose, Stuart looks back and sees that Murdoc seems to have accepted his explanation and is once again checking his phone messages. Even though he'd put the band on permanent hiatus, the amount of messages the man used to get, compared to now, hasn't slowed down any. If anything, for a time they had got worse and the bassist's phone would buzz its way off the desk and vibrate out the door, if he didn't put something heavy on top of it or drop it into a desk drawer. He used to have a machine gun ringtone, but with the pirate attacks it had made the bassist nervous. So he changed it to the sound of a woman orgasming and the sound reverberated around the whole island, driving him mad. Any passing ships might have thought that the place was covered in madly rollicking nymphomaniacs, that had somehow got their hands on a crate of Viagra. Either way Murdoc found it highly amusing, until one day his phone just stopped working. Something burned out, or something like that? But now that the moan sounded like a death rattle and the vibe had been reduced to a single click and didn't vibrate any more. Murdoc really didn't like that, so he threw it in the sea then ordered a new one. The bassist's answer to almost everything really. Just chuck it and get a new one in the morning.

My things. My band. My fans. Me me me, mine mine mine. The second they stop doing what he wants though, they're gone. Oddly enough he is fairly faithful to the things that he does claim to have ownership over. You touch his “stuff” without asking, the man will happily take your hand off at the shoulder. Which may actually go towards explaining his irritation where Albarn is concerned? He's trying to claim Murdoc's hard earned fans and if it wasn't for the fact that they're not dumb enough to actually accept that it's for the best. Then Albarn may have actually succeeded there. The way the bassist stood tall and let out that low rumbling purr of satisfaction, when he saw that they weren't fooled for even a second by his claim. Was enough proof for the singer that the bassist had the ability to appreciate people. Even if he didn't say it audibly to anyone.

“They know though,” he mutters into his cereal bowl, before tipping up the rim and drinking the last traces of milk.

“Eh?” Dropping it again and widening his eyes at the confused bassist, that is now staring at him from the head of the table. Stuart puts his bowl down and wipes his mouth with his forearm.

“Finished Muds?” he squeaks, hoping that he accepts it.

“Oh, yeah whatever. What do you want, a damn medal?” Murdoc snarls and waves him off again. Mumbling under his breath as he continues scrolling through his messages.

Sometimes Stuart is able to get away with things with Murdoc. It generally all depends on how busy or lazy the man is at the time. Which gives the singer a reason to sometimes push his luck with him now. Just to see how far he really can go. Of course the fun comes to an abrupt end when the bassist finally explodes and rains all manner of Hell fire and fury down on him. But for just a while, the singer gets the sense of freedom that he had once had, and feels like his own self again. Before the guy and his Vauxall smashed through the shop window and changed the course of what feels like, his whole life. His whole life. He slowly gets up from the table and places his bowl in the sink. Those three small words still burning like a hot cinder, into the core of his brain. Life and death seem to have circled like vultures around them for quite some time now. From Russel and the drive-by shooting deaths of his friends and his later possession, to the bassist and the above mentioned Vauxall crashing through the window of Uncle Norms and nearly killing him. In a way coma is a bit like death warmed up. Lost in the dark and unable to do a thing for himself. The thought of the musician having free reign over him for quite some time, still sends a shiver up the singers spine. After all, he has actually seen some of the things that Murdoc considers to be forms of “amusement”. Adding to the list, Noodle and the kid army and Murdoc and little Jimmy Manson, and possibly other people that have fallen foul of the man, that they don't know about yet. Death has surrounded them quite a lot and didn't seem to feel the need to dissipate just yet.

“Oi dullard?” Lifting his head sharply and looking over at the bassist, he sees him bounce two fingers against his lips and miming his need for a cigarette. Slipping his pack and lighter from his pocket Stuart walks over and places on between the bassist's lips, lighting it up and stepping back to watch the man draw deeply with a contented sigh. “You seem more zoned than usual today?” the bassist asks softly, blowing a stream of smoke from his nostrils and eying him carefully. Placing the pack and lighter back in his pocket, Stuart takes a seat closer to the man. The feeling of quiet that surrounds them for the moment, familiar with other times, where for just a while, Murdoc is actually a nice person to be with. Not that it happens often, but when it does you tend to want to grab these moments and suck them dry for all they're worth.

“Just thinking about what you said about me getting a part time weekend job,” he lies, although in truth he had spent a little time looking since the man mentioned it. So it's not exactly a complete lie. “I saw a few things in the paper but-”

“I was joking Dee,” Murdoc suddenly grunts with a slight sneer. The dance of light in the bassist's eyes catching the singers attention for a moment and emptying his mind of every other thought. “I'd much prefer knowing exactly where you are and I don't particularly like the idea of letting you be the one to save the damn day. Like some weird blue haired super hero or something.” he then laughs and shakes his head at the thought. “Heh, Super Dullard.”

Stuart grins at that, even though there is a sting of humiliation attached and laughs along with the guy's little joke at his expense. Taking the offered rum bottle and swigging from it, as they both settle down in the quiet of the kitchen together. The soft tick from the wall clock as time slowly drags on, with the sun beam through the window, that is tracing a path across the table and adding a visual indication to the passage; Even though neither man cares to pay much attention to it. They laugh and talk together about this and that, while emptying the house of much of what is left of the booze supply. As Murdoc slowly reminds the singer, why there were moments during their friendship, when he was glad that he'd met him and it was just the two of them. It's in times like these that Murdoc proves to him, that he's just as human as everyone else.


_________________
All Hail the Purple Cloud of Mystery.


 


spyder1070 posted this on Sun Jul 07, 2013 9:23 am | View user's profileSend private messageReply with quote

Watching Murdoc attempting to climb up into his lift chair after lunch, Stuart hesitates for a moment, before finally walking over and taking the man's elbow to assist him. This does nothing but irritate him though, and leaping back when the bassist swings around viciously with a swipe of his arm. The singer ducks and high steps away from him in fear. Slowly uncurling when nothing more happens, he sees the furious bassist has made it into the chair himself and is grumbling at him as he makes his way up the stairwell. Huffing out in exasperation, because he can't believe that he actually bothered trying to help him in the first place. Stuart stops in the doorway of the lounge room and looks back up the stairs toward the disappearing chair. Kicking himself and muttering bitterly, because he should have known that he'd react that way. Murdoc doesn't want or need help, and he's never asked for it before. Why would he here?

He's talked about his childhood, well mentioned it at least. It doesn't sound like he had a very good one and Stuart does understand why he behaves the way he does at times. With a dad like his, the man had come to expect nothing in the way of proper parenting. By the sounds of it the abuse came thick and fast and the fact that people tend to say that we tend to become our parents. Makes him widen his eyes a fraction. Because if that's true, then Murdoc possibly is a good reflection of his father. For a time the bassist had tried to teach him how to behave and react to people. Giving the kinds of advice about society that perhaps he had learned over the years. He can hear the man in his head right now, in regards to what he'd just attempted to do.

“Never expect help in life Dee. If you need it, then expect to become shark food for those that will happily take you down instead. Just to amuse themselves.”

Murdoc had proved that, time and time again and his disgust of weak things and people was obvious. But then if he learned that from his dad...? Stuart begins to imagine the young Murdoc in his place. Being beaten down so often, that he eventually broke somewhere inside and became who he is today. Some people just shouldn't be allowed to have children. Of course the downside of that is that to know who they are, they have to have children for people to know that they shouldn't have children. Shaking his head and blinking back the confusion. The singer runs through that last thought again, just to be sure that it does make sense.

“Yeah, that's right?” he mumbles softly, sucking the end of a finger as he steps into the lounge room. Walking over to the twin seater and flopping down into it. He's just about to reach forwards for the remote, when he gets a creeping sensation up his spine. Slowly looking around he sees that Noodle and Boogie are sitting fairly close together and by the look on Noodles face, his arrival had possibly interrupted something. Now he can see that they are trying not to look bothered by that, which worries him. Nothing good could ever come from a conversation with the dark being. Given what had happened to Murdoc, surely Noodle would know better? Not too sure what to do, except that getting Noodle away from the being is important. The singer stands back up and walks over to her, sheepishly looking down at his feet.

“Noo, do you...” The way she shakes her head and standing up, walks away gives him a sense of relief. However it doesn't really solve the problem, because he can't possibly watch her all the time. Even if he tried, he'd more than likely end up looking like a pervert and annoying Russel in the process. A look over at Boogie makes him shiver and not wanting to deal with him alone, Stuart wonders if perhaps Murdoc can help. Only to suddenly remember what he was thinking about just moments ago. “Oh crap.” Bowing his head in defeat and slinking from the room, the singer slowly trudges up the stairs. Coming to a stop outside the bassist's door, he knocks and waits for a response. When nothing happens he gently leans against the door handle, pressing the door open and taking a quick look inside.

“Muds, are you in there?” he calls softly, knocking again as he looks around the edge of the door. Listening carefully he hears a soft voice in the distance, which oddly enough sounds like it could be on the other side of the street, but not able to hear it distinctly, Stuart steps around the edge of the door and into the room. “What?” he calls and listens again. The voice is a little louder in its response, but still not loud enough for him to hear clearly. So taking a chance the singer takes another step deeper into the room and opens his mouth to ask again. A sudden gust of wind in his face catches him off guard, worst still is that it slams up against the door and forces it shut behind him, trapping the singer in the room.

“I swear Russ, he burst into tears like a little girl,” Murdoc chuckles to the amused drummer.

Standing on the top floor balcony with the once normal again sized drummer, Murdoc leans against the railing with a cigarette tucked in the corner of his mouth, talking to the American; which is what he's been doing for the last twenty minutes or so. Having become the size of a continent because he'd inadvertently absorbed large amounts of toxic waste, as he swum through the ocean in search of Plastic Beach Island. The man had lost much of his size after he and Noodle first turned up on the island, looking for their missing band members. Unfortunately, he had then gained quite a lot of it back again, after the band arrived at their Wobble Street home. Noodle subsequently made the suggestion to him, that it might be due to some residual effect of the toxic waste, that was made worse by certain things that he may be eating. After a little thought on the matter, the two of them have been carefully monitoring his diet, to see if the young woman was right. By the seems of it so far, the young woman may be right and much to his irritation, it appears that quite a few of his favourite foods are responsible for his dramatically fluctuating size. Which means that he'll have to go without them until his body metabolises the toxic waste and he permanently returns to normal. Russel sighs happily and wipes a small tear from the corner of his eye, but just can't help breaking out in another fit of giggles.

“Oh man,” he gasps, holding his side and gasping for air, while resting the weight of his bulk against the railing with the other, in an attempt to keep himself from crumbling to the floor.

With the odd nasty joke about Russel's girth aside, the bassist's ability to smooth over the waves and bring people back into his clutches, is still just as strong as ever. Sure he, Russel and Noodle had had a falling out, and his chances of getting Noodle back will be difficult. But he's not going to let that stop him from retaking his place as their leader. In his mind, if he turns Russel then Noodle will have to follow. Because the natural need to be part of the group that all humans have, will play a big part in it and do most of the hard work for him. Using Russel's sense of humour against him has worked in the past and regardless of how angry the large man may have been. He'd always managed to get back into his good books with it. Here now, with the man nearly rolling around on the floor at his feet, because he's laughing so hard. Murdoc can see that he has Russel on the ropes and he's maybe one or two jokes away from having the guy back on side.


Shaking almost uncontrollably with fear, Stuart carefully takes a small tentative step backwards. He'd froze to the spot when the door had slammed shut, instinctively making himself small and wishing that he'd brought a torch before coming anywhere near the room. His logic tells him that he'd only taken a few steps forwards to get into the room. Which means that strictly speaking, he only has to step back and he'll eventually find the door behind him. The soft growl of something near him, sends Stuart into a momentary panic. For half a second he nearly jumps away from it, only to realise that if he does, then he'll lose the door. Swallowing hard and holding his breath, he calms himself as much as he can. Then taking another step back he tries to think of something to distract himself and swallowing again, he begins to sing.

“Up on Melancholy Hill, there's a plastic tree.” His shuddering voice barely masks the fear that he feels, but at least he feels a little better already. “Are you here with me?”

“Just looking out on the day,” another croaky voice sings on his right, making Stuart suck a shocked breath and turn his head in its direction. Even though he can't see a thing in the pitch black room.

“Of another dream,” yet another sings, this time on his left. Wringing his hands and taking another step back, Stuart swallows hard and sings the next line.

“Well you can't get what you want, but you can get me.”

“So lets set out to sea. Cause you are my medicine, when you're close to me. When you're close to me,” more voices pipe in and it sounds like he's surrounded by them. He turns his head left and right as they hum along to the tune of the song, with his interest now far more peaked than his fear. They sound fairly happy, even though their croaky voices remind him of something that he'd seen on television.

“So call in the submarine, 'round the world we'll go. Does anyone know?” he sings to them far more confidently now.

“If we're looking out on the day, of another dream,” they answer him. He smiles broadly and gets the sense that whoever they are, they're fairly short. Because he has to look down to hear them properly, estimating that they are about knee height in comparison to him. Perhaps Murdoc is keeping a bunch of blind dwarves in the room and charging them rent? “If you can't get what you want, then come with me.” The singer is suddenly struck with what it was the little guys remind him of, when he recalls the little creatures in the movie “Gremlins” singing Christmas carols. That's what these guys remind me of, he thinks with widening eyes and backs up even further.

“Up on Melancholy Hill sits a manatee. Just looking out on the day, when you're close to me,” they continue singing with Stuart's back now touching the door. “When you're close to me. When you're close to me.” He fumbles behind him for the door handle and finding it, snatches the door open and practically flings himself out and onto the landing. Slamming the door shut with both hands and breathing hard, he listens to the creatures “whoo ooing” along to the rest of the song.

“Why is Murdoc keeping singing Gremlins in his room?” he grunts breathlessly, sliding down to sit with his back against the door.

“Say wha?” Russel's voice grunts from somewhere above him. Looking rapidly up the flight of stairs to the roof. Stuart wonders if the drummer is talking to the bassist, so he launches himself back to his feet and races up the stairs; taking them two at a time.

By the time he gets to the attic rooms, the singer is certain that he's right about Murdoc being up here with Russel. The American only tends to laugh that hard, when the bassist is telling him jokes and making derogatory remarks about people he dislikes. As much as the drummer finds Murdoc annoying and despicable, he and the man have a kind of unspoken agreement to generally tolerate each other. Not that Murdoc makes it easy for him, but then Russel isn't taken in by the bassist's swagger and wit. The silent way he watches him speaks volumes about what is really going through Russel's head, and Stuart can see the micro calculations behind the drummers eyes. He's measuring the amount of bullshit coming from Murdoc's mouth, on an almost hourly level. Blinking in surprise when he sees that Russel has shrunk in size again, Stuart suddenly realises that he's probably the best person to help him with Noodle, while Murdoc deals with the Boogie man. What he doesn't really understand, is if the creature had been destroyed by the mail man, like Noodle had said. Then how did he get here and what does he want? Shaking the thought from his head as he steps up to the open French doors, Stuart decides to stick with the Murdoc conundrum and work on the Boogie one when he's done.


_________________
All Hail the Purple Cloud of Mystery.


 


spyder1070 posted this on Mon Jul 08, 2013 9:49 pm | View user's profileSend private messageReply with quote

Standing behind the two men and waiting for a moment, before he steps forwards with a hesitating hand and taps the bassist on the shoulder with a finger to attract his attention. Stuart snatches it back when Murdoc swings around with a fist and threatens to strike whoever was behind him. Stuart curls into a defensive hunch, blindly swiping back at him. Even though none of his weak slaps actually connect with the snarling man. Slowly straightening out and lowering his fist again. Murdoc watches the singer with an amused grin curling up the corners of his mouth. Russel to watches, wondering what exactly Stuart is trying to do. Apart from make him laugh, which is about all that his pathetic swipes are managing to accomplish.

“Pillock,” Murdoc finally harrumphs with a shake of his head, then waving him off he turns back to the rail to continue his conversation with the drummer.

“Should Noo and Boog be left alone to have secret conversations?” Stuart squeaks as he uncurls and looks back over his shoulder at the two men.

“What?” Murdoc and Russel snap in shocked unison, turning sharply back to face the singer. Standing up straighter and smoothing his t-shirt back down, Stuart clears his throat to try and sound more authoritative.

“I was just down in the lounge and they were sitting in the corner when I walked in. By the look of it, they weren't too happy that I'd come in an interrupted them though. So I left. I was just wondering if maybe I shouldn't have left them like that, cause of what happened to Muds when-” The two men slam the singer out of the way as they rush by him, slapping at each other when their bulk jams them in the doorway.

“Get the f.uck back you damn....” Murdoc snarls, trying to shove the drummer aside.

“You get back cracker, I was here first,” Russel snarls back at him, slapping a large meaty hand in Murdoc's face and shoving his head back. Argh!” Snatching his hand away when Murdoc clamps his jagged teeth down on the drummers thumb, Russel steps back. Only to have Murdoc instantly take the opportunity and the gap, while the drummer checks his thumb for damage. The bassist rushes forwards into the room and almost wraith like, slides through to the door and slips out. Seeing this instantly, Russel punches his fists to the floor in annoyance.“You crazy fool, you bit me!” Not hesitating a second longer, Russel huffs angrily and seems to swell in size, then lumbers like a speeding freight train towards the door, following him out of it. Blinking silently at the empty room, Stuart suddenly realises that he's alone and rushes after them.

“Wait for me!” he shouts as he rushes out the door. Catching glimpses of the huffing drummer as they follow each other back down the stairs, Stuart tries to catch them up, surprised that Russel is managing to keep ahead of him. By the time they both reach the bottom, Boogie is flying out of the room like a dark ghost and reefing open the door, rushing out into the street and disappearing. Seconds later, Murdoc marches out dusting off his hands, oozing confidence with a huge grin on his face.

“Crisis averted, there's nothing to see here. Hey!” Gritting his teeth angrily at the young woman who has just shoved him roughly aside so that she can leave the room herself. Murdoc purses his lips in annoyance as she continues on to the stairs. Russel and Stuart press themselves back against the wall to give her room as she stomps towards them. Then they watch as she marches by them up the stairs, until she disappears at the top.

“What did you do?” Russel snarls at Murdoc, snapping a vicious look down at the bassist, before storming up to him threateningly. Murdoc widens his eyes at the man, but holds his ground, staring down into the drummers blazing eyes with a look of abject annoyance.

“What did I do? Stopped her from making a damn idiot of herself, that's what!” he snaps back at him, pressing his face down closer to the furious man. Russel stabs a meaty finger into Murdoc's chest, making the bassist huff out slightly and slap his finger aside.

“You weren't suppose to upset her in the process, but as usual you went in there all huffing and puffing wit'cha usual bluster man. Like the damn troll that you are, right?” Russel accuses, making Murdoc drop his mouth open and stare at him aghast.

“Look you fat moron. It wouldn't have mattered if I'd gone in there with roses and bloody chocolates. She would have been upset that I'd put a dent in her daft plan anyway. Just be grateful that I was nice enough, to even bother trying to stop the idiot from making the biggest mistake of her life,” he snarls back, jabbing a pointed talon straight back into Russel's chest. Glad that Noodle is okay now and not wanting the drummer and the bassist ruining things by shouting at one another over it. Stuart steps in and tries to calm things down.

“It doesn't matter how it happened, the important thing is that she's safe now. Ain't it?” Murdoc and Russel look over at the younger man wringing his hands next to them, then look back at one another and step back apart.

“Yeah right,” they grunt in unison, but the slit eyed way they regard each other says that feelings are still running high.


Seeing movement in Noodle's room as he passes by the open door the next morning, Stuart comes to a stop and steps back, peeking in and seeing that she is doing her morning tai chi exercises. He remains there, resting his weight against the frame of the door and watching the slow graceful movements of her hands and limbs. Remembering when they used to do this on the roof at Kong studios. That of course, was only when he woke early enough and managed to get out without Murdoc seeing him. He enjoyed tai chi and found it very relaxing. But on a couple of occasions when he tried doing it alone in his room, the bassist had caught him and made jokes about it until he felt quite self conscious and awkward. He wasn't going to let it stop him though. He just stopped doing it alone in his room, where the chances of Murdoc finding out was very high. That was the best thing about there not being any cameras on the roof. The bassist may be able to check everywhere else, but he couldn't check there.

As the young woman turns she catches sight of something blue in her periphery and turns her head to see what it is. Not reacting to the small waggle of the singers fingers when he smiles and mouths hello at her. She keeps going, letting out a slow calming breath to ease down from the slight elevation of annoyance. She's not really angry with Stuart for tattling to Murdoc and making him aware of her activities. In a sense it did make her wonder if perhaps she should have let him know what she was attempting to do. But with the bassist's track record when it comes to extracting information out of the guy, she changed her mind and kept her plans to herself. What bothered her though, was the fact that it seemed that Stuart had believed that she was plotting with Sun Moon and Stars. Which was certainly not what she was doing, in fact far from it.

It had taken a little doing, but she had managed to engage the being in a conversation about Murdoc. Discovering quickly that Boogie has similar rules when it comes to deals, as priests do about confessions. This set her back a little, but needing to know the details of the bassist's bargain, she wasn't about to be dissuaded. So she had skirted rather skilfully around it and almost had the creature talking when Murdoc burst into the room. For some reason her head had begun to swim and her vision blurred so badly that she felt like she was about to pass out. Then just as quickly everything righted itself again and all she could see was the bassist standing there with a cunning sneer plastered across his face. She could see it in the man's eyes as they glinted at her in the dim light of the room. He somehow knew what she was doing and had no intention of allowing her to continue talking to the creature.

She really isn't angry with Stuart, he wasn't to know. It does bother her that he couldn't trust her, but then with all that has happened, it would be difficult for him to know which way to turn in regards to her feelings. Just seeing that worried expression on his face only moments ago. The memories of him bouncing almost childlike when she let him play with her new electronic pet, come flooding back to her. He's a sweet natured and kind person, who just wants the best for her. Not the kind to pound his chest like Russel, he would rather defend her by placing himself in the firing line and taking whatever may come. The man doesn't have a single malicious bone in his body, so how could she possibly get angry with him and stay that way. A small smile plays across her lips and she lets out a tiny huff of breath.

“Can I help you Stuart?” she asks quietly, continuing her exercises. Snapping to attention Stuart steps forwards into the room, then comes to a stop again.

“What, err no, I...” pausing mid thought he sighs and bows his head. “I was just watching you do your tai chi, but I'll go if you want me to?” he mumbles, then turns to leave again, thinking perhaps she is angry for grassing her up to Murdoc.

“I don't mind if you watch. In fact, you can join me if you wish to?” she says in reply, looking back over her shoulder at him. The way he snaps his head up and grins broadly makes her chuckle. The warmth of his smile moving through her and flooding her body from head to toe. Almost surprising the young woman, who hadn't realised just how cold she was before. Moments later the two band members are almost precisely mirroring each others movements. The slow melodic dance and sweep of limbs, that keeps the calm in the room and eases their worries with the world for just a little while longer.


Walking behind her as they head to the kitchen for breakfast later. Stuart smiles at the warm feeling moving through his chest. This is his Noodle, the one that shared with him and seemed to enjoy spending time with him. The one that is willing to help him if he needs it and isn't cold and unfeeling, like Murdoc. Perhaps she's singed around the edges from what had happened to her, but that hasn't taken her away from him after all. She just needs a little time and space, so that she can find her way back home again. To be the Axe Princes that he used to know, if a somewhat grown up version of her. The second that she steps through the doorway and seems to stiffen. Tells the singer that Murdoc is in the room and suddenly every thought that he'd just had melts away like ice in the sun. Because he knows that the chances of her getting the peace that she needs is going to be hard. If Murdoc has anything to do with it.

“Good morning luv,” the bassist grins almost pleasantly. Both Stuart and Noodle can see that his demeanour is dripping with insincerity and lacks the warmth that it would have, if he actually cared if it was a good morning or not.

“Morning Muds,” Stuart smiles fleetingly, lifting his hand in greeting, although he can clearly see that the bassist is far from interested in anyone but the young woman, that he has his gaze firmly fixed on at the moment. The dismissive flick of a hand and gruff grunt proves that, but the singer doesn't really care. The fact that he greeted the man now means that Murdoc can't hold it against him later and complain that he was ignored by him.

As for Murdoc, his agenda this morning is pure and simple. He'd worked on Russel yesterday and managed to pull him on side, now it's the bitch's turn. Noodle is a much harder nut to crack though. She's just as, if not more observant than he is. He'd taken note of how much she'd sit and simply watch him early on in her time with the band. At first he'd brushed it aside because she couldn't speak English and was amused by the tone and timbre of their voices. It hadn't taken him look to see that this wasn't the case and became annoyed that he'd been so quick to make a judgement call on it. Her sweetness had thrown him and he couldn't see the calculating mind behind those eyes, until it was too late. Drowned in a sea of sugar, blech. He mentally grunts with a small amount of discomfort. Silently he gives her a small golf clap for her cleverness though. The fact that she was so easily able to hide behind her cute act and throw him off his game like that. Never again though, that was for sure. Once he'd seen the truth though, he threw up such a huge wall against that inquisitive mind, that even he found it difficult to scale and peek over the top of. Just a quick look down at the world to check his bearings and be sure that he was heading in the right direction.

Stuart can see what Murdoc is doing instantly. He's often wondered if the bassist knows or even detects that he's been observing him from a distance? Possibly a little, but then he doesn't look as deep as perhaps Noodle does. Most of the stuff he knows about the man, comes either from experience or an overview on the surface of the man's behaviour. He knows by simple deduction of the facts laid out before him. On average, the number of times that he's headed one way or the other, gives the singer a clue as to where he'll step this time. If Murdoc knew that he paid this much attention though...? He shudders at the thoughts of what may happen and takes a seat, with his interest on how the bassist plans on getting Noodle back on side peaked. This will turn out as either an act of pure Niccals genius, or it will just as easily go down in flames, with Noodle chasing him all the way. Two gladiators have stepped into the arena, both armed with minds that are fairly evenly matched. One full of logic and one full of experience. To the winner will go the spoils, but then again...? Stuart taps a finger against his bottom lip and thinks for a moment. Murdoc is surely nobbled with guilt though? Now this has made the situation even more intriguing. So looking back up again, Stuart waits to see who will make the first move.


_________________
All Hail the Purple Cloud of Mystery.


 


spyder1070 posted this on Fri Jul 12, 2013 11:58 am | View user's profileSend private messageReply with quote

“Have you decided to apologise yet?” Noodle asks as she turns with the bottle of juice in her hand and removing the lid takes a sip.

With a tiny flicker in his smile, Murdoc seems to freeze for a moment, but his gaze remains firmly fixed on the young woman. It's hard to tell if he registered that question at all. On the one hand, he looks annoyed, but on the other his expression hasn't changed that much from when they walked in. If he's smart, which Stuart has to admit he is, then he'll have to come to the conclusion that until he does, Noodle won't shift her stance and let him regain any ground on her. Of all the things that he has done, surely the guy understands that this was a step too far? They know who he is and they know that “arseholery” is just one of his major hobbies. But it's not like they're asking him to change who he is inside, because they understand that any chances of him doing that in any lifetime, is just a pipe dream. All Noodle wants is for him to just admit this one time that he made a mistake and given that she has never actually asked him for anything before. Then why can't he just do the right thing and back down, this one f.ucking time? Lowering his gaze to the table, Stuart pauses and thinks that back through. Because the guy is a major arsehole. Lifting his gaze back up when he sees the bassist lick his lips. The singer sucks the tiniest of breaths and widens his eyes. She did hit a nerve, he felt that!

“That's a very nice top that you're wearing,” Murdoc purrs in reply to her question.

Leaning forwards and placing his elbows on the table, he interlaces his fingers in front of his mouth and stares at her from over the tops of his fingers. She can see the slight widening of his pupils and knows that he's reading her, just as much as she's reading him. Her difficulty is that he's had years of practice when it comes to hiding many visual clues. Which means that she's perfectly aware that he can probably see more than she can, but then she's quite good at sending out false ones and has caught him out on it. Nothing big, because volatile Murdoc is not fun for anyone in the household to have to face. However, backing down and letting him have run over her, isn't going to happen either. So over the years she has tapped him on the arm slightly, to remind him that he's not the only one who can manipulate people. This he respects her for, she knows that and that he likes the challenge that she offers. It doesn't mean that he does so enough to simply step down and let her do the same to him though. Which is what the compliment to her shirt is. Him saying no, without actually saying it.

There's something else going on back in the depths of those eyes though. Something that she can see, but not clearly enough to put a finger on with any real accuracy. He's hinting by framing his eyes, so that the rest of his face isn't distracting her. It's almost like he wants her to see it, but at the same time wants her to find it for herself. Bad teacher, but then he's done this before as well. Over the years he's hinted and pressed her to move in ways that only she could see and it has done her well. Watching peoples faces hen they're talking and reading the truth between the words. Then taking that truth to frame the kinds of answers to the questions asked with far more authority than she would have if she hadn't. It's what gave the audience the impression that she wasn't someone to simply wave off as a clever child. They respected her mind and her ability to express herself firmly, but not by making people look foolish, simply taking the question further and letting her answer flow over the edges and say far more over a wider field of people. This way, even stupid people could understand much of it. Even if her words sounded like you'd need a diploma of some kind, to grasp the concept that she was placing before you. Of course it wasn't just Murdoc that had taught her how to relate to people. It was all three men. If you looked carefully you could see that in how she behaved. Right up to the El Manana incident. There was a little bit of them all in her and they had said as much, with the picture on the back of the “Rise of the Ogre” book, that they had released to the public. Now though, after her experiences in Hell....

“I know what you are doing Murdoc,” she growls softly back at him, giving him a slightly taut mouthed look in reply to emphasise her annoyance. He shrugs dismissively and settles back in the chair, looking oddly relaxed even though his sparkling eyed gaze is still dancing over her face. He's checking to see if I've picked up on his clues, she reasons silently.

“Don't doubt it luv,” he grins slyly. The only difference between you and me. Is that I'm not wearing sexy stuff, to throw you off your game at the moment. Oh look, champagne, want some?” The speed at which he threw that last sentence in, throws her for a second. But quickly recovering as he places the bottle down in front of him. She huffs out and folds her arms over her chest.

“No thank you,” she growls coolly in reply.

“Oh come on. You and me had a moment there luv. Things went a bit south, maybe a few more things than expected perhaps, but it all came good in the end. So here in the light of a new day, with you standing there all lovely in your nice top and me sitting here with intent in my hand. We can make things good again, you just need to sit and ride the wave with me one more time,” the bassist says grandly with a salacious grin. The firming of her posture and the frown on her face says that she's still not interested, which annoys Murdoc considerably. “Give me a break. I'm trying here and you're making it hard,” the bassist groans, rolling his eyes.

“What?!” Stuart and Noodle gasp in unison. Sitting up straight in his chair staring wide eyed back at them, Murdoc darts his eyes around the room in shock.

“What what?” he grunts back in confusion. The disgusted look he receives in response gives him a clue and he runs back through what he'd said. “Hells Bells, the situation you morons. I had that...” He points down to his crotch with a sly grin. “... long before you two twats arrived.” Thrusting his crumpled nose indignantly in the air, he turns away from them in his chair.

“Eww Muds,” Stuart groans and standing up he gently takes Noodles arms in his hands and backs them both towards the door. If the bassist insists in thrusting his sexuality at the young woman, then he's just going to have to put his foot down and at least try to limit her exposure to it. Not about to let the singer spoil things, Murdoc snaps his furious eyes back on him, bringing the singers bid for escape to an instant halt.

“Bring that back,” he growls gutturally at him.

“Excuse me?” Noodle snarls back, snatching her arms from Stuart's grip and stepping forwards. The slit eyed fury sends a shock of tingles through the bassist, unfortunately exciting him more than scaring the man. But he ignores the pleasant feeling rushing through his loins, because getting her back on side is far more important to him at the moment. “I am a person, not an object,” she adds with a snake-like hiss from her throat. Slapping on an invisible hat of diplomacy, the bassist sits back and smiles pleasantly. This cuts through the ferocity and confuses the young woman for a second, giving the bassist time to sweep in and thrust things back to a more manageable and stable arena.

“Of course you are, of course,” he purrs almost seductively, quickly sliding from his chair and slipping over to her before she can make another move. The gentle way he takes her arm and like a gentleman walks her over to his chair, confuses her further because this is most definitely not the guy she's used to. He sits her down and makes her comfortable, then places the champagne glass in front of her and picks up the bottle again. “We never got to celebrate you rejoining us. What, with the guns, bombs and dead clones and all. So I bought this and I think you and me need to have a little drinky and a talk, okay?” She eyes him curiously as he presses his thumbs under the cork and tries to prise it from the bottle. Wondering exactly what the man is trying to accomplish with this and whether or not he's being sincere in wishing to talk about things.

“We do not have to drink-”

“Shush luv, I've got this,” Murdoc interjects, poking out his tongue with his efforts. The cork suddenly gives way and rockets across the room, striking Stuart hard between the eyes and making him recoil with a yelp of shock.

“F.ucking.... Ow!” the singer snaps as he rubs the bridge of his nose and glares at him. Murdoc stares silently at him as a smile creeps up the corners of his mouth.

“Heh heh, got him and I wasn't even trying,” he chuckles and pours Noodle a glass. “There you go my luv. Drink up, don't let it get warm now.”

“I don't actually drink-”

“Tut tut tut.” Murdoc wags his finger in front of her face and picks up the beverage, placing it in her hand. He then pours himself a glass and stands next to her, raising it as though about to propose a toast.

“Murdoc, will you please-” He grunts in irritation and finally snaps, pitching his glass across the room and making Stuart duck in fear, almost dashing under the table for safety.

“I am trying to do something nice here, and you're determined to bloody spoil it, aren't you? What the Hell do I have to do-” Noodle snaps as well and leaps to her feet, spinning on the man and pressing her face squarely into his until their noses touch.

“APOLOGISE!” she roars in fury. “I don't want champagne, roses or a night on the town. I don't want chocolates, expensive dinners or a round the world cruise for two. I just want you to open your mouth and tell me what I want to hear!”

With a blank expressionless look on his face, Murdoc places his hands gently on her arms and presses her back. He then steps back himself and turns away, walking with the same amount of confidence that he's always had, out of the room. Noodle and Stuart look at one another in surprise at this. The fact that he hadn't said another word, lost his temper further, shouted, yelled or blamed someone else. Is just so out of character for him that neither one of them know what to say or do right now. Deflating like all the air has left her body, Noodle slumps back down to the chair, shaking her head in wonder and trying to work out what his mood is telling her. Reaching over and picking up the bottle and reading the label, Stuart widens his eyes.

“Moet and Chandon? Wow Noods, this isn't exactly cheap plonk. I think that he actually meant it, in his own way?” he mumbles, looking back up at her. She lifts her gaze to his and sighs sadly, suddenly seeing that the singer is right and for the first time Murdoc had actually made some kind of attempt to fix things and she hadn't been able to see it.


Later that evening, as Noodle is coming back from having a shower. A small shiver runs up her spine when she sees that her door is ajar and the light has been switched off. For a moment she switches into alert mode, then second guesses herself and shuts it down again. Wondering if perhaps Murdoc had come back and found that she wasn't there? Sighing again, she shakes her head and mentally kicks herself for smashing him down like that. Hoping that she hadn't shut him down completely and renewed his belief that he doesn't have to take anyone else's feelings into consideration. The fact that he had tried to make some kind of amends, in the typical fashion that involves throwing money at things to make them go away. Shows and proves her thoughts, that the guilt he must have built up in himself over the years, had finally burst like a dam wall and forced him to face the truth. The guy must feel more miserable than he ever has before, but still doesn't want to share it. His misguided belief that he can take anything, may have worked for a time, but now he has nothing left to provide him with a stable footing. Out of sorts, as they say and she should have held her tongue a little longer and let him finish. Pressing the door open more and peering inside, she sees a dark shape on her bed framed by moonlight and secretly smiles, then switches on the light.

“Murdoc,” she grunts softly, then heads to her wardrobe to put her toiletries away and hang her towel by the radiator to dry. Coming back she waves him over and when he shifts to give her room, she settles down beside him with her back against the bed head. “I-” He shakes his head and presses a finger to her lips to silence her.

“Don't luv. It's hard enough to do without you making speeches, okay?” he mumbles softly with his head bowed and gaze fixed firmly on the back of one of his bent knees. She nods and remains silent, giving him as much time as he needs to. It would be hard for a man with an ego the size of his to admit that he'd gone too far and needs to apologise for the sake of his own conscious, let alone the other person's feelings. He may behave like he doesn't have one, but the fact is that he does. He's not a monster or an evil man. Just someone who has been angry with the world for a long time and refused to let it take any more away from him, than it had already.

“I know that I've done quite a few questionable things in my time. Maybe some of them weren't entirely necessary? But I was trying to get something good for myself, after all the shitty stuff that I had rammed down my throat and had to put up with. I wasn't about to go second guessing myself, so long as I got what I wanted.” Murdoc pauses and sighs deeply, almost seeming to shrink in size before her eyes. “I really thought that I had no option luv. I'd looked through everything else and tried to work my way around it... I thought that you out of everyone, could handle it. I thought that with you down there, it would buy me time to work something out and change it. I could go get you then and... It doesn't matter. It didn't work out the way I expected and I... I...”

“Messed up?” Noodle proffers softly. He nods and bows his head further.

“Not used to accepting my own mistakes,” he chuckles softly but the pain in it is obvious. “I wouldn't do this for anyone else luv. I know that you're different and you've put up with a lot of weirdness in the past. Most little girls would have run screaming, but not you. I think that's what made me think that you could take it? So here goes.” She licks her lips and turns more to face him, watching him take a deep breath to give him the courage to say those two words that have never passed his lips with sincerity before. “I'm... I'm sorry.” He launches himself from the bed and rushes to the door, looking like he's about to throw up and in urgent need to escape the room and the young woman's gaze for any longer than is necessary. She bows her head and feels the warmth of the man's words moving through her. Amazed that he had actually said it, yet scared about what it means at the same time. Vowing never to let anyone ever know what he had done here, she stands and walks to her door; Slowly closing it with a sigh and listening to the click of the latch engaging. Another chapter closing in her life, but opening another at the same time. Who knows where it will take her and if she will ever see things return to the way they had been before? Time will tell, she thinks with a tiny shrug.

“I forgive you Murdoc,” she whispers breathlessly, then walks back to her bed and flops down onto it, interlacing her fingers behind her head and watching the shadows dancing across her ceiling.


_________________
All Hail the Purple Cloud of Mystery.


 


spyder1070 posted this on Sat Jul 13, 2013 6:49 am | View user's profileSend private messageReply with quote

The very next morning Noodle wanders into the kitchen, and as she passes Russel, who is sitting at the table and about to take the very first bite from his breakfast, she deftly plucks the bacon sandwich from his hand. Ignoring the grumbling sounds emitting from the man, she then deposits it down onto the pile on the plate before him, walking along sliding down to the head of the table and leaving it in front of the bassist, who is watching her as he rocks back and forth on the back legs of his chair. Pursing his lips in satisfaction, the older man drops the chair back down onto all fours and leans over the plate, sniffing the drummers ex-meal and lifting a cheeky gaze up to the snorting man across from him. He can plainly see the threat in Russel's eyes and is delighted by it. So taking a finger he slowly moves it over to the top sandwich and lifts up the edge of the bread and looks at the perfectly cooked bacon underneath.

“Mmmm that smells so good. Can't you smell it Russ? Mmm mm, mmmmm. Oh yeah, just the most glorious smell ever, ain't it? Morning bacon, cooked to perfection, all shiny and covered in just the right amount of grease and ketchup... Gah, it makes my mouth water, just to be this close to it,” the bassist drawls and rolling his eyes as though he's on the verge of ejaculation.

“Get your slimy, toad hands off,” Russel husks under his breath as Noodle prepares him a much healthier substitute. Murdoc smiles broadly and lets his tongue loll out. Coming within mere millimetres of touching the drummers sandwich and making him widen his eyes in response. “Don't you-” Spitefully Murdoc lowers his tongue and with a long drawn out stroke, he licks the sauce from the top of the bacon and smacks his lips loudly in delight. “Oh man.” Slumping in defeat and dropping his forehead with a thump down onto the table, Russel seems to go as limp as a deflated balloon, sobbing for his loss. Now munching happily on the drummers former meal, Murdoc watches Noodle turn and place two rather large grapefruit halves on the table in front of him.

“Grapefruit? Gah!” Suddenly choking, the bassist struggles and gasps. Much to the delight of the drummer who grins evilly and grips his spoon in his huge meaty hand.

“Heh heh, that's what you get,” he growls in satisfaction. Murdoc thumps his chest and manages to dislodge the obstruction, then coughing and wiping his nose with his arm, he shakes it off and picks up the sandwich again, continuing to eat.

“Just leaping down my throat here it wants to be eaten so bad, Russ. Hey Russ, I have such a flavour explosion going on here, you wouldn't believe it,” Murdoc purrs coldly with a sneering smile.

“Git the f.uck out!” Russel snarls, pointing back towards the door. Widening his eyes when Murdoc pokes out his tongue cheekily, the drummer shakes his head and huffs out into his fruit. “Asshole.” He suddenly snaps his head up and narrows his eyes at the sniggering man. “Have you apologised to her yet?”

“No he hasn't and I don't ever expect him to,” Noodle pipes in before Murdoc can answer or react to the drummers question.

The bassist stops chewing and briefly glances over at the young woman, who takes a seat in the chair near him. His mind seems to slow the whole world down, as he tries to understand why she'd just said that? Didn't she hear him in the bedroom? Did he actually waste his damn time saying those two dumb words, only to have her go deaf at the last damn minute? Did he rush out so quick that she hadn't understood that that was what he was doing? He hadn't stopped to consider that, because he was far too busy chucking his guts up and trying to breathe at the time. Slowly he looks back at those gleaming green eyes that have turned towards him, and catches the glint and the tiny smile meant only for him. The meaning behind it hits him like a tidal wave, sucking the very air itself out of his lungs and filling him with a huge boost of confidence. She did! She did hear him and... She's forgiven me and is keeping the incident a secret for me? Blinking and returning the world to normal speed again, Murdoc drops straight back into full Niccals mode and sucks the bacon grease from each finger, with his usual deliberate arrogance.

“That's right fatso. I haven't and I never will. Just gunna take my last sandwich here to my room. Need time alone, if you catch my meaning?” he winks at Russel salaciously, chuckling at the way the man covers his mouth as if he's about to be sick.

“You one sick cracker. Bleh, I threw up in my mouth then,” the drummer groans as Murdoc walks defiantly to the door. “You gonna take that from him?” he adds in protest, pointing back at the bassist.

“He knows what he did,” she shrugs, then eyes the larger man from over the edge of her cup of green tea. “As do you. Did we not talk about your diet? You know you cannot eat bacon until you metabolise, so he is not the only defiant one that I see.” Russel slowly places his hand back on the table and bows his head shamefully.

“Yes ma'am,” he grunts softly and digs his spoon into the grapefruit before him.

“Git,” Murdoc laughs and walks away.

----------------------------------------------------

Sitting on the roof looking out over the city skyline, Murdoc takes one last drag on his cigarette then flicks the fag end away. Pulling his heels closer to his buttocks and resting his forearms on his bent knees, he gently bites the skin on one arm while he thinks about recent events. The incident in the kitchen this morning had surprised him a bit. He had actually assumed that Noodle would have used her knowledge to humiliate him. To himself though, he had to admit to a small amount of hope that her understanding of the kind of man that he is would guide her decision whether to tell or not. As it turned out, she had indeed chosen to show him loyalty and proved that he still held a place in her heart. Even though she had already proved that she was loyal, when she killed Cyborg Noodle for trying to wipe him out on Plastic beach. This was different though, feelings were involved and she's been trying to introduce him to those and moral behaviour for years. Here she had the perfect moment and she decided to hold the evidence back? A small twitch in one corner of his mouth develops, when he begins to see the possibility that she'll use it as a form of blackmail. Perhaps, but then who'd believe her? Even the Axe Princess would have difficulty getting people to accept that the Bass Slayer had found it in himself to do that. His unapologetic nature is part of who he is, like his tongue or his hairstyle.

Letting the faint smile play on his lips for a moment, he suddenly realises that there is a small drawback in her saying nothing. If Russel believes that he hasn't apologised, then he's more than likely going to continue annoying him about it. But then again, it's better that than him grinning like a happy maniac about the other really. Aside from that, the major component in his plan was that with the small sacrifice came the reward of now having one foot back in the young woman's good books. Irrespective of any downside, that was the thing that mattered the most. So now that that has set him where he needed to be, he can concentrate better on the small problem that he'd spotted not so long ago. Noodle's curiosity.

She's been snooping in places and matters that she shouldn't and he needs her to stop. Not for her own sake, but more for his. The thing is that he can't just tell her to back off, that will more than likely make her even more curious than before. Having already shut done one vital source of information, that being Boogie, she's been listening at his door and hiding in the shadowy corners of rooms that he happens to be in. Waiting for him to slip up and give her something tangible to work with. Something to chew, he thinks. Imagining her as a small puppy with a toy. Then sighs and stretches his back to ease the muscles, now complaining about sitting in one place too long and urging him to change position. Giving in to it he lays back and stares up at the grey London sky. Interlacing his fingers behind his head and running through everything in his mind, to be sure that he has everything sorted out. Slowly he begins to draw an alternative conclusion to his problem. One that turns the woman's curiosity back on itself, thus solving it and getting him off the hook. Maybe he should help, rather than hinder her investigation?

“Muds?” Startling at the sound of the singer's voice and nearly sliding down the tiles and straight over the edge of the roof. Murdoc splutters and scrambles back, clutching his chest and breathing hard. “Oh there you are. What are you doing on the roof?” Stuart asks, resting his arms on the window sill and looking over at the bassist a short distance from him.

There's another of his problems, the pillock. He's often wondered how the guy is able to walk and talk at the same time? Given how few functional brain cells the guy has working at any one time. If he actually had a real thought, the shock would probably kill him. Although there have been times when he did give him some comfort. Even if it's been extremely brief and no where near enough to what he could call memorable, in a pleasant way. The long list of unnecessary and inane questions. The daft comments and the endless “duh” inspiring conversations. As far as he'd been concerned after the events at Point Nemo, there was nothing more to do or say, which is why he'd left them all for dead. Including the dullard. But noooo. Those two morons had to save the idiot and now he's here yet again, still asking the same dumb arsed questions and pissing me off. If it had just been those two, he could have tolerated it better and maybe gotten some kind of peace and quiet at last. Better answer it before the twit speaks again, he thinks and rolls his eyes.

“Masturbating you plank,” the bassist snarls with a vicious look back over his shoulder at the younger man. Then looking back to the front with a slow shake of his head, he heaves a heavy breath and calms down a little. “Can't a guy get any privacy around here?” he adds with a snort of annoyance. Standing up a little straighter, Stuart looks over at the buildings across the street, then stepping forwards and leaning out, he glances right along the row up one way, then back down the other.

“Not out here where everyone can see you, no. I mean, they only have to look out the window Muds. You'll get arrested,” he states with a degree of caution. Looking sharply down when he hears a scrabbling sound and seeing the pure fury in the bassist's eyes as he tries to gain purchase on the slippery tiles with his boots. Stuart spins instantly and takes off running to the attic door, then reefing it open he dashes out to the stairs and practically leaps down them. “I really have to learn when to shut my damn mouth,” he husks as he reaches his bedroom door and slams his way inside, barring it against the bassist who just moments later crashes against it, attempting to shove his way in and kill him.


_________________
All Hail the Purple Cloud of Mystery.


 


spyder1070 posted this on Tue Jul 16, 2013 5:01 am | View user's profileSend private messageReply with quote

The next day, Russel steps into the kitchen and sees that Stuart is home from work. But being far more interested in grabbing a Coke from the fridge before Noodle sees him. Is far more important than saying anything to the guy. Besides which, he looks busy. Glancing down at the laptop screen as he passes him. The drummer catches sight of the website that Stuart is looking at and wrinkles his nose. Opening the fridge door and with one quick look over his shoulder to be sure that she's not looking. He takes out a large bottle of soda and cracks it open, taking a large swig straight from the bottle. Smacking his lips with a satisfied smile he leans his weight back on the door. Then shutting the appliance and taking the bottle with him. He takes a seat at the table and secretes the bottle behind his leg, out of sight of anyone who may walk in.

“Thinking of converting?” he asks the singer in relation to the Christian website that he'd seen. Stuart snaps his eyes up from the screen and looks a little startled. He then clears his throat and slowly closes the lid on the device, folding and unfolding his arms over it as if extremely nervous.

“Oh hey Russ, I err, didn't even see you sitting there,” he remarks to the drummer with a flinching waggle of his fingers and nervous glances in his direction. Suddenly catching sight of the soda just beside the man's leg, Stuart points it out. “Umm, didn't Noo say that you're not suppose to be drinking that stuff?” Looking down at the bottle, Russel grimaces and waves the singer down, shushing him with a quick glance towards the kitchen door. Just in case Noodle happened to be there.

“Quiet you fool. If she hears me, my ass is done for. I love the boo, but she's killing my ass with all that healthy great. Why you gotta go getting all heavy on me. When it's obvious that you up to no good? Damn madness cracker. You know what I'm saying?” he husks icily with a slow look up and down the singers length. Stuart stares at him silently for a moment, slowly blinking at the man while he translates. Too many long nights working on his darkness problem, has left him feeling more tired and exhausted than usual. For some reason today, Russel is just not as clear as he normally would be.

“I think so?” he replies then shakes his head clear. “But didn't she say that it'll make you blow up?” Russel rolls his eyes and huffs out.

“Yo, mind your own business Dee. What is that you're doing over there then?” Russel snarls, taking another look at the door, then picking up his drink.

“I'm not doing anything,” Stuart squeaks defensively. The disbelieving way the drummer harrumphs at him, tells the singer that his ploy really isn't washing with him. So he huffs out and bows his head, thinking quickly about what to tell him, that won't end up finding it's way back to Murdoc. “I'm playing a game that's kind of intell...” Pausing he furrows his brow, stepping into “dim 2D” mode and keeping up his act. “... Intell-thingy?” Russel blinks at him.

“Intelligent?” Russel suggests. Stuart shakes his head.

“No, the other one what is like it?”

“Intellectual?” the drummer offers.

“Yeah yeah, that one,” the singer nods rapidly with a smile. “My character is in this dark place and he has to find his way out. It's pitch black and you can't see your face in front of your hand and... No no, that'd be the other way around.” Thinking he circles his finger. “Anyway, there's noises and crying and voices in the dark. But you can't see what's making them and I have to find a light or a flame or something?” Russel raises a heavy eyebrow and sits back in his chair.

“Yo,” he drawls slowly. “It sounds like you in Hell Dee? What the game called?” he then asks.

“I don't know. I err, got it from Muds,” Stuart lies, looking around nervously. The drummer nods and clicks his tongue at that.

“Ah then yeah. I'd say that you're ass is in Hell. Y'all is mad stupid taking games from that green skinned cracker. You know that's right. Probably turn the next corner, find yo ass in some boiling pit. Ass deep in hookers and snakes. You won't know which way to go then, damn fool.” Stuart tips his head to his shoulder and wrinkles his nose at him.

“Have you been talking to Snoop again Russ?” he asks. Russel jerks his head back in confusion.

“Why you ask?”

“I feel like I'm talking to him, that's all,” the singer shrugs and bows his head. Russel clears his throat and shakes it off. “How do you know that's where I am?” he adds, looking back up at him sharply. Taking a quick swig from the bottle, Russel swallows the suppresses a burp into his fist.

“Excuse me. Ahem, the bible says that Hell is a place of darkness, where false teachers go. It's suppose to be the furtherest place from God, with no rest from Hells torments. It's also a place of fire. The everlasting lake of fire. Never quenched, you know? Revelations says that the smoke ascends forever and ever,” he replies.

“Oh, that kind of sucks,” Stuart remarks bluntly, sitting up much straighter in his chair.

“Pfft,” the drummer scoffs coldly. “Don't get me wrong man. Everyone has a right to their beliefs and I'm not the one to deny them that. But if I can speak freely for a moment...?” the singer nods emphatically, waving him on.

“I'm listening.”

“Going strictly from what the bible says, people are lost to Hell by their own choice. Now I have to say that in all honesty I don't know if that's true or not. But if it is, then by not following gospel and the commandments of God, they only have themselves to blame, when the time comes and they find themselves down there in the darkness.” This makes Stuart suck a small breath. “By putting off obeying God's will, right up to the last second, cause they think God's a fool and will accept their dying wish to change. It don't change a thing, their ass is still going to find itself in a world of hell. You know what I'm saying man?”

“Yeah, I think I do bruv,” Stuart mumbles almost breathlessly.

“Didn't mean to get all heavy then,” Russel grunts taking another swig.

“No no, this is good and real helpful. So like, once you're down there, is there no way back?” the singer asks with a smile. Suddenly everything that the people on the website had said, although much of it had been quotes and passages that simply confused him further and didn't really help much, is beginning to make sense. Because Russel is talking to him in far simpler terms. Maybe I had to have a fairly good grasp of knowledge in the first place, to see what they had been saying? He thinks and licks his lips.

“That's why it's called eternal darkness man. Cause it's for all eternity and goes on forever. You could walk for a lifetime and still never find the end of it. Because there is no end to find. You dig?” Stuart nods emphatically. “You had every opportunity to change and a whole lifetime to do it. Last second changes of mind ain't enough and never could be. It's kind of like shooting some cracker in the face then dropping the gun and saying, no I take that back. You can't take that back man. It's not like the bullet is gonna be sucked out the dead guy's body and he'll stand up and say, no problem. That cracker is dead and that's the end of it. Same thing, yo. Good ain't no fool.” Russel moves to stand, which makes Stuart sit forwards in his seat.

“What about outer darkness, is that the same thing?” he asks the drummer quickly. This surprises the American and he sits back down again.

“Yo Dee, you really have been studying this. Why...?” Deciding that it really isn't his business, he shakes the question off. “Jesus talked about that.”

“I know, I read it. Was it like him saying that if you don't fit in, then you can't go to Heaven?” Stuart interjects before he can continue.

“According to the bible, you have to follow the true teachings, or you can't go. Some say that that's what outer darkness is and what the story was trying to say. Some say no, that outer darkness is something else,” Russel shrugs.

“What do you say?”

“Me? I say darkness is darkness Dee, and if you're in the dark, then eh?” he replies. “Anything else?”

“What's redemption then if you can't say sorry?” Stuart asks to clarify his thoughts.

“You gotta say that during your life Dee, not at the end. You gotta change your ways and do your best to live a better life and do the right things. What's the point of saying sorry, at the end? It's just a word, there's no real intent behind it,” Russel explains.

“Then you get God?”

“That's what they say man,” Russel nods.

“Thanks bruv,” Stuart smiles and taking his laptop with him he leaves the room.

“Any time Dee,” the drummer grunts and hauls himself to his feet. Seconds later his stomach rumbles in a very uncomfortable way and he drops the bottle of Coke, spilling it's contents across the floor. Looking down at his hand, that is tingling intensely. Russel sees it suddenly balloon in size and widens his eyes at it. “Oh man, don't do this to me. Noo's gonna kill me,” he grunts and rushes to the back door, slamming his way outside.


Listening to Noodle snarling in Japanese at Russel, who has once again grown to epic proportions, because he failed to stick to her carefully planned diet. Murdoc sniggers as he enters the room, and making his way to the head of the table, drops down into his favourite seat and plants a booted foot on the corner of the table. Using it to lean himself back, so that he can look out the window and up at the drummer. Who is towering high over the building, but slumped like a naughty school boy, with Noodle angrily scolding him for his deception. The bassist smiles coldly at the shame ridden man and shakes his head, Because he must have known that the results of his cheating, wasn't exactly something that he could hide. So what on Earth was the guy thinking in even trying to get away with that? Just looking at the diminutive woman, stamping her foot in front of the giant before her is amusing. Let alone the fact that if he took a single step forwards then he could squash her like a bug. But she isn't at all concerned about that, her boldness in the face of those odds is only matched by the obvious anger that she's showing the older man. Even the fact that Russel is taking it the way he is is remarkable really.

“I'm sorry Noo, but I was hungry,” Russel groans softly, carefully pulling his foot away when she slaps it hard and wags an angry finger at him. “Oh man, this is embarrassing.” Chuckling and dropping his chair back down onto four legs, Murdoc cracks open his bottle of rum and smacks his lips happily. Pleased with the mornings entertainment and himself, because he's worked out that the best way to handle the young woman's curiosity is to “feed” it. He's worked out exactly how to draw her attention where it needs to be as well. Yet keeping himself safely out of the way and accomplishing exactly what he wants. All at the same time. Fortunately he'd brought some of his major books with him when he escaped the island and he knows that those have always raised the girl's eyebrow a touch. Even if she did have a problem with the content. The fact that she was willing to speak to Boogie has given him a few ideas as to which direction she's headed.

“I just have to hint and she'll follow. Heh, sometimes my genius surprises even me,” he smirks and sips his rum. The slam of the back door attracts the bassist's attention. So he drops his chair back down onto all fours and grins at Noodle huffing in the doorway near him. “Tell it like it is yo,” Murdoc drawls at her, pumping his hands towards the ceiling. Her blazing eyes snap in his direction and she huffs out towards him. Not at all in the mood for his antics today.

“Shut. Up,” she grunts with a huff, then walks back to the cupboard that she had been searching through, when she happened to spot Russel towering outside the window. Bending over and looking deep into the back she digs around, not paying any attention to the fact that Murdoc's gaze has locked firmly onto her waggling rump, just mere inches from his face. The slow rise of a lecherous grin shouts volumes, in regards to the images sliding through his mind. The soft flush of the older man's skin and the tightening grip on his rum bottle, all warning signs that if she was paying attention, she'd quickly take a large step to the left and put herself out of touching distance.

“Git your eyes down man!” Russel's voice booms from outside the window. The instant crack of Noodle's head against the inside of the cupboard and the sharply spat swear word from her lips, shocking even Murdoc, who widens his eyes at her. “Oh sorry Noo,”

“Fakku,” she hisses, standing up with a wok in her hand and holding the back of her head, squinting in pain.

“Don't even speak the language, but it's fairly obvious what that word means,” Murdoc chuckles and kicks back his chair again, swigging on his rum.

His amusement level has now risen higher than ever before. Not just at the young woman's misfortune, but also in the fact that he can't honestly believe that Stuart and Russel haven't picked up on a very important character trait of his. He hates being predictable and does as much as he possibly can not to be. So why oh why do they still believe that he would go there with Noodle? That would make me very predictable now, wouldn't it. Not that he's going to tell them, or let them know that he has no intention to. Even if she makes certain parts of his anatomy vibrate like a b@stard, which tends to lead to other forms of amusement. He'll hint, push the margin, even pretend that he's about to lay a single lecherous finger on her person. But under no circumstances does he intend of following through with a single thing. Even if his mind betrays him and his visualises himself doing so. If they want to entertain the thought, let them. I know I'm never going there and that's that. He thinks with an evil grin.


_________________
All Hail the Purple Cloud of Mystery.


 


spyder1070 posted this on Wed Jul 31, 2013 11:25 pm | View user's profileSend private messageReply with quote

Yawning loudly and almost crashing into the wall on his way to the kitchen for breakfast. Stuart shakes the sleepy haze from his head and rubs one of his eyes with the heel of a palm. Smacking his lips and opening the fridge door. He grabs the bottle of milk and turns to the table, plopping lazily down in the closest chair. A quick look up at the grease covered clock over the sideboard, tells him that he has plenty of time before work. So standing back up he grabs the bread and loads two slices in the toaster, then turns back to the cupboard and grabs a box of Shreadies. Wincing a little at the sound the cereal makes as it pours into the bowl, the singer sighs and puts the box back down in the centre of the table. Lifting his gaze to the writing on the back, while blindly grabbing the milk. He reads about a competition to win a small plastic toy and pouts. Putting the bottle back down and picking up the box again. He's digging around inside it for the prize when Murdoc's head appears around the edge of the door.

“Put that down and follow me,” the bassist grunts, crooking a finger at the younger man. Turning and looking back over his shoulder at him. Stuart slowly lowers the box.

“I was just-”

“Don't make me repeat myself dullard,” Murdoc's voice growls as he disappears from view. Snapping his gaze back to the toaster when it pops. The singer sighs heavily and hauls himself from the chair.

“I have to go to work Muds,” he moans softly as he follows the bassist back up the stairs.

“Yeah yeah, it's not like I'm stopping you,” the bassist groans in reply as his chair sails around the corner.

“Oh, okay then,” Stuart remarks with a smile and turning around, he makes his way back down again.

“FACEACHE!”

“Tsk, fine fine,” the singer groans bitterly and turning again, he stomps his way back up after the grumbling older man.

Things seem to have changed slightly over the last few days. Russel is finding himself on high alert, because Noodle is not as tolerant when it comes to him skimping on her carefully planned diet, as she may have been in her younger years. Which shows in the fact that she has a rather nasty temper and isn't afraid to let her feelings known on a very loud scale. He'd even made the suggestion that she has been taking Murdoc lessons and he wishes that she would stop listening to the bassist's advice on how to get people to co-operate with you. Shout louder, talk faster and blame everyone equally, for any drawbacks to your plans. Except yourself of course. However, he was careful to make sure that neither one of them were in the room or able to hear him, when he said that. Speaking on the Murdoc front, the singer had also done a little research on the bassist and the Boogieman.

Still not sure who the guy was, he'd “wandered” over to the band's website and read some things, in the hope that he could find out exactly what had happened when he was down in his room, being eaten by that whale. That's when he read something that he found rather intriguing. It said that the “Boogieman is a physical manifestation of Murdoc's evil side, and the Evangelist was created for the sole purpose of saving Murdoc from himself?” Is that who the postman was? Now he wishes that he'd seen what had happened for himself. The only other information that he had was that Murdoc had faked his death by apparently killing the lookalike with poison then shooting him in the head. All so that he could get out of having his soul taken by Boogie. When the being did try to collect the soul, he took the wrong one thinking that the lookalike was Murdoc, because of the guy's disfigured face. Sounds just like something that green illegitemate offspring would do actually. Stuart thinks as he comes to a stop outside the bassist's room. Murdoc turns and with a warning finger poised inches from the singers nose, he husks at him to “stay and don't move”. Then opens his door and slides around the edge of it, keeping his gaze fixed on the singer the whole time, before finally shutting the door.

Sighing deeply, Stuart turns his back to the wall and drops his weight against it. Shoving his hands deeply into his jacket pockets and clicking his tongue, while lifting his gaze to the ceiling above him and crossing his ankles. Slowly moving his head from side to side as he tries to make pictures out of the the suspicious looking stains on the ceiling. He'd always found himself wondering if something awful had happened in the house, because to him the stains look like blood. But then, he'd never really been one hundred percent certain about that either. Spotting one rather interesting one, he squints at it hard and thinks very carefully about what it looks like to him.

“Um, a bunny... Getting his head ripped off... Err, by... A....? What's that bit? Oh wait, a zombie, monkey thing, in a pirate hat? Eww, that's horrible,” he mutters dropping his gaze again and hanging his tongue out in disgust. Still bored with no sign of the bassist returning yet. Stuart twists and curls his tongue, purely for amusement purposes. Touching the tip of his nose and remembering Murdoc once saying something about “licking his elbow.” He slips it back into his mouth and looks down at his arm, then takes his hand out of his pocket and makes the attempt. Suddenly the door opens and scares him, making the singer pull away and snap his mouth closed a little too quickly.

“Ow,” he mumbles through the hand that he's clapped over his mouth. Looking up at him as he shoves a large box out onto the landing, Murdoc raises an eyebrow.

“What? As if I care,” he grunts, shutting the door again.

“Bit my tongue,” Stuart replies, wincing at the metallic taste in his mouth. Rolling his eyes the musician grabs Stuart by the arm and yanks him over towards the box.

“That'll teach you for waving it around like you're airing the damn thing. Now stop whinging and pick that up, yah moron,” he growls with a sharp slap against the back of the singer's head. Suddenly overcome with a wave of irritation, Stuart spins around on him and pulls his fist back before he can stop himself. Murdoc's eyes widen at the sight, but he barely moves to avoid it. Instead, he seems to be staring at the younger man's fist, as if trying to decipher what it is that he's actually looking at. A small glint in the back of the bassist's pupil, then announces that an answer has finally been reached.

“You bloody dare,” he grunts icily at Stuart, slitting his eyes at him menacingly and pressing his face forwards. Almost as if wanting him to actually follow through with his desire, just to see if he would. Catching himself and the dangerous situation that he's in. The singer drops his hand and blushes awkwardly at the furious eyes in front of him. Understanding that to do what he's been challenged to do right now. May instead prove fatal for him at the moment. Not wasting another second, he quickly turns and picks up the older man's box without another word. Then turns back and gives him a grimacing smile to say that he's cooperating now. “That's more like it. Upstairs with you then, chop chop.” Waving him on, Murdoc follows, putting the small rebellion behind him.

He'd seen the change in the singer quite some time ago. In fact, back in 2004 the singer had remarked that he wanted to “...sort that duh-brained Murdoc out for picking on me! Give him a kicking or summink! I wouldn't leave Noodle and Russel to deal with Murdoc on their own.” He'd said as much when they were doing interviews for the “Rise of the Ogre” book and had been quoted on it. Of course at the time the bassist hadn't taken that very seriously and had remarked in reply to it “Oh yeah! Big difference it makes having you around to help them.” It has been spiralling up slowly from there ever since and the bassist has become more and more aware, that the guy really isn't as scared of him as he used to be. He still flinches away and wrings his hands nervously around him. But he occasionally snaps and snarls in annoyance, whereas before he just wouldn't dare. Big difference what a boost of confidence will do for a guy? He thinks quietly to himself as he slowly follows the blue haired man up the stairs. At the end of the day though, whether or not the singer is confident enough to strike out at him. With just one fair hit square in that precious face of his. Stuart will snap straight back to obedient dog mode, before he can even register the pain that he's in.

“Not that I'd stop at one of course,” he growls gutturally with an evil sneer.

“What?” Stuart asks, coming to a stop and turning back to face him.

“Nothing nothing, move along,” Murdoc replies, waving him up to the very top floor of the house. Finally reaching the second of the two attic room doors, Murdoc pulls his keys from his pocket and opens the door on the far left. This is a room that Stuart had heard about, but hasn't actually been in before. So his curiosity is peaked and he almost can't wait to see what's inside.

This was the room that Murdoc had used when he'd first arrived. The walls had been themed at the time, to reflect a Hawaiian beach. Just so that he could fool the fans into thinking that that was where he was. As Stuart walks in he sees that it's been given a make-over and is now painted bright red. Looking either like a prostitutes bedroom, or the red room that was under the stairs in the basement of the Amityville house. Stuart thinks about it carefully, trying to decide if he likes it or not. Actually come to think of it, it was more a space, or a cupboard or something like that? Stuart thinks in regards to the Amityville house, as he looks around. Coming to a stop when he's facing the bassist again, he huffs out and sets the box down on a desk that is in about the centre of the room.

“Welcome to my study, slash, library, slash er? Slash room,” the bassist grins with a grand sweep of his arms. “Whatever it is now, it doesn't really matter. Because you goons aren't allowed in here. Got me?” he adds with a snarl at the end to emphasise his feeling on the matter. Pulling away from him slightly, Stuart nods then furrows his brow in confusion.

“If I'm not allowed in here, then why have you brought me here?” he asks.

“See that?” Murdoc grunts, pointing to the box that he'd just put down on the desk.

“Yeah, it was heavy,” the singer shrugs.

“See that?” Murdoc grunts again, this time pointing to an empty bookshelf on the wall by the only window in the room.

“Um yeah?”

“Make the contents of one, fit neatly into the contents of the other. Then GET OUT!” the bassist shouts at him, then turns on his heel and marches to the door. Grumbling in annoyance and approaching the box, Stuart sighs and takes his flick knife from his back pocket.

“But I have to go to work Muds,” he calls to the bassist before he steps from the room.

“And whining at me instead of doing what you're damn told, is going to get you out of here sooner, is it?” Murdoc snarls back, then marching out he slams the door shut.

Snarling angrily under his breath about that, Stuart slips the knife blade through the tape on the box and opens the flaps. Taking a look inside he sees that the reason why it was so heavy, is because it is full of books. Taking one of them out he reads the spine but is unable to pronounce, let alone, recognise the title. So he slips it into the shelf and grabs another. The older man had a point after all. Wasting his time instead of just getting on with the task, won't get him closer to leaving for work on time. Besides which, he was kind of looking forwards to breakfast. So the singer grabs several books at a time and hurls them into the shelves. A thump behind him catches his attention and he turns to see that Murdoc has deposited another box on the desk next to the first one.

“Awww Muds,” Stuart moans and slumps listlessly.

“Stop your bitching and get on with it,” Murdoc snarls, waving him off and exiting the room again. Shaking his fist angrily at the empty doorway, Stuart re-doubles his efforts and quickly empties the first box. Slicing the tape on the next one, he sees that it too is full of books. So he carries on and almost has it emptied, when Murdoc once again arrives with another.

“Did you hijack a mobile library or something?” Stuart snarls in irritation. Turning his cold eyes on the younger man, the bassist huffs out angrily through his nostrils.

“Ha funny,” he scoffs sarcastically, then leaves the room again.

“Was that the last one?” Stuart calls to the man, but gets no reply. Nor did he honestly expect one. That would require an act of niceness on the bassist's part. As would assistance so that the singer could eat breakfast before he leaves for the day. Which he doesn't expect either. When the bassist returns with another box however. Stuart is surprised to see the older man set it on the floor and taking a seat next to it, open it and begin loading the bottom two shelves. Wow, I wonder why he's doing that? The singer thinks with a slight pause in his actions.

“Hmm, The Satanic Rituals,” Murdoc reads from the spine of the book. “Good book this. I use it frequently,” he says to the singer as he shows him the cover, before slipping it into the shelf. Taking a quick look before the man does so, Stuart pauses again and tries to work out why the bassist is talking to him this way.

“Yeah?” he grunts, then slides two more from his own box away. “To do what?” he dares to ask, knowing the answer may very well be a nasty one.

“Meh, this and that. Mostly the other,” Murdoc replies quietly as he picks up another. “Oo, A Century of Spells. Even you could do these ones,” he adds as he waggles the book at him with an easy smile up at the younger man.

Stuart blinks at him, even more surprised now. The bassist has often done this. Slipped from angry to nice, in the time it takes to light up a cigarette. Except that he doesn't tend to talk to him about his Satanic magic stuff in this way. Predominantly because the guy doesn't think that he has the brains to take in what he's talking about. In a sense it's almost like he's sharing and that really isn't the bassist that he typically knows? Taking the last few years into account, Stuart wonders if perhaps the guilt and anxiety has finally popped a few vital angry Niccals brain cells. Which could mean that the bassist has finally lost the plot?

“I'm a Buddhist Muds. I don't do Satanic stuff,” the younger man mumbles as he places the last of his books in the shelf.

“You don't have to be Satanic to do those ones Dee. That's what I'm saying,” Murdoc replies with a glance up at the singer. Seeing him closing the box Murdoc slips out another book. “A'ha! Umbra Daemon Exponentia.”

“What?” Stuart grunts, wrinkling his nose in confusion. Seeing the book that the bassist is holding in his hand, the singer cringes reflexively away from it. “Eww, what's that?” Pointing out gingerly at the cover, the singer snatches his hand away again, terrified to touch it. Looking down at the book, Murdoc turns it over and slides his other hand over the gold pentagram that's embedded into it.

“Um, leather. Of sorts,” he purrs deeply.

“It looks like... skin?” Stuart remarks nervously, pulling even further away. Looking back down at the cover, then up at the singer with a derisive sneer. Murdoc clicks his tongue.

“Yeah,” he drawls deeply. “Isn't that what leather is you dolt?” he remarks coldly. Stuart shakes his head and waggles his finger at the book.

“No no, skin as in skin skin. Human skin,” he responds in a very shaky voice. The bassist tuts and shifts onto his knees, then with a deliberately slow movement, he slides the book into the top shelf and taps the cover to be sure that the singer is paying as much attention to the book as possible.

“Pigs,” he grunts, then hauls himself to his feet and gently shoves Stuart away and towards the door.

“Pigs? Pigs as in pig skin? Or pigs as in arse?” the younger man asks. “It has to be arse, because I could see pores and pigs don't have them. That's why they roll in mud, because they can't sweat.” The way the bassist suddenly comes to a stop makes Stuart suck a quick breath. Perhaps I sounded a little too informed there? He thinks with a grimace. “Saw that on the Discovery Channel,” he quickly adds as he steps from the room.

“That channel has a lot to answer for,” the bassist growls and shutting the door behind him, he turns and locks it. When he stands back up and turns around again, he sees that Stuart is still standing there, wringing his hands. “I thought you were suppose to be going to work? Go on, git!” he snaps and waves him on. Checking his watch and seeing that he will be late if he doesn't hurry. Stuart races down the stairs and towards the front door; Reefing it open, he doesn't even stop to close it again as he tears off down the path and out onto the street. A few moments later Murdoc walks to the door and smiling evilly to himself, he shuts the door and heads back to the kitchen.

“The stage is set, now all we need are the players. Well one player actually. So long as Faceache does what Faceache does best. Then she'll be up there snooping around that book, in no time,” he purrs confidently with a clap of his hands. Rubbing them together he grabs the bottle of rum from the sideboard where he'd left it and opens the lid. Chuckling with amusement as to how easy that was. He then settles down in his usual chair, placing his foot casually on the corner of the table. “Ah, now this is living,” he growls with a lazy smile.


_________________
All Hail the Purple Cloud of Mystery.


 


spyder1070 posted this on Sun Aug 04, 2013 11:39 am | View user's profileSend private messageReply with quote

Two days have passed and Murdoc hasn't seen any sign of Noodle going anywhere near the attic room. Which has Murdoc thinking that perhaps using 2D to get his message across, was possibly doomed to failure from the start. All the singers fault of course. Because it was actually a good plan up until he ruined it. So taking the time to come up with an alternative plan, as his lift chair slowly makes it's way down the stairs. Murdoc happens to see the dull witted singer making his way into the bathroom and pulls his chair to a stop. Slamming it into reverse gear, he glides back up to the top of the stairs, bringing it to a stop again and climbing out. Carefully checking that he's alone and creeping like a dark creature up to the door. He stops and listens to the sounds inside, trying to work out the precise moment when to slam his way in. Which is often when the younger man is at his most vulnerable. The bassist slides his snake-like tongue over his teeth and hears the toilet seat clunk. So he silently counts down from five, then rams his shoulder against the door and barges his way in.

“Argh!” Stuart yelps and steps back, inadvertently urinating on his foot. Spluttering he steps back to the bowl, then turns more away from the sniggering bassist. Tutting and muttering to himself as he tries to empty his bladder. “Go away, I'm trying to pee,” he growls with a wave back behind him trying to shoo the older man from the room.

“Aaoow, don't be a baby. It's not like I saw anything important,” Murdoc snarls back, resting his weight against the door frame and lighting up a cigarette. “Heh, sprinkles.” Laughing at his little joke, Murdoc sighs and waves him off.

Making his way back to his chair. As he passes the young woman's room, he stops and listens at her door as well. Leaping back and almost failing backwards over the railing behind him. When something quite heavy slams into the door. Widening his eyes, he quickly marches to his chair and slamming it into gear, he rides it down before she comes out and catches him. Still muttering about his little accident, Stuart marches out from the bathroom and instantly sees something on the floor by the balustrade. Looking around, he walks over and sees that it's a mobile phone. So he picks it up and checks to see who it belongs to. The two naked women sprawled naked across the screen, tells him instantly who's phone it is. So he tuts and takes it with him to his room, reminding himself to give it back to the guy later.

Dropping it onto his side table, Stuart wanders to his wardrobe and picks out a few items to wear. Jeans and a t-shirt, with a witty slogan on the front, which he tosses onto his bed while pulling open a drawer and grabbing socks and clean underwear. Changing quickly, then sitting on the side of his bed to put his sneakers on. He snaps his gaze to the phone when it buzzes and can't help but be curious who might be messaging the bassist. When he finishes tying his shoes, he reaches over and picks up the phone, quickly pulling up the message. Seeing that it's from someone called Bob, who wants to know if Murdoc would like to buy a crate of foot cream, at a very reasonable price. With a soft snort Stuart smiles to himself and shuts the phone down again, slipping it into his pocket and making his way back to the stairs.

“Bugger... Where the Hell did I leave that then?” Murdoc's voice softly grunts from the kitchen as the singer approaches the door.

“Leave what?” he asks as he walks in. The way the bassist spins and looks around nervously surprises him a little. So Stuart comes to an instant stop, not quite sure what to do just yet.

“My-” Stuarts pocket suddenly starts vibrating and playing Death Metal music. Making him wriggle uncomfortably and squeaks, while he tries to retrieve the device from the front pocket of his jeans. Murdoc stares in amazement at him. Not quite sure what to make of the bizarre dance the younger man is doing. At the same time he finds it quite amusing and can't help but take a little advantage of the situation. “Oddly enough, I find myself strangely attracted to your pocket there Faceache? Since when did you like Cannibal Corpse?”

“Ack, it's horrible. Have you got this thing on super vibe or something?” the younger man growls, wishing that he hadn't decided to wear tight jeans today.

“Heh, me? Oi you twit! Is that my phone? Hells Bells, you've contaminated it now,” Murdoc mumbles then laughs loudly at the way Stuart is still struggling and twisting around. “Heh, he's possessed.” Holding his stomach and slapping his thigh in amusement, Murdoc sighs and shakes his head, flopping down in the chair. Far more amused by the singers antics, than in getting his phone back, he watches as finally it comes free and Stuart answers it.

“Allo?”

“You can give it back now,” the bassist grunts, holding out his hand.

“No, this is Stuart. Murdoc is over there,” the singer says, pointing at the slightly annoyed older man.

“He can't see you you twit. Give me the phone.”

“Who?”

“Me!”

“No not you you, him you. What?... Oh really? Do I know you?” the singer asks, waving the bassist off. This annoys Murdoc a lot more than Stuart intended it to and he pulls away. Pointing at the phone and whispering that he's talking to someone. He hopes that perhaps not knowing if it was an important call, would encourage the man to be a little more lenient. Murdoc stands and marches over to him, grabbing his shirt and pulling the younger man close, before he practically shoves his nose in Stuart's ear.

“Give me the phone. Or I will twist both of your nipples off. You. Pillock,” He growls softly at him.

“Yeah, he does do that, doesn't he,” Stuart gulps, slowly turning his head and looking at the angry man. “I'll put him on. It was nice talking to you.”

“Wait, who is it?” Murdoc hisses as he steps back.

“Um, some American guy called Kurt. He says you met on a beach once,” the singer shrugs, then leaps away when the bassist snatches the phone from his hand.

“Stretch yah lanky yank. How have you been?” Murdoc purrs as he walks from the room.

Shuddering and making his way to the fridge, Stuart opens the door and stares at the contents. Slowly tapping a finger against his bottom lip and deciding what he feels like eating, only half listening to the loud laughter of the bassist out in the corridor. It's always surprised him how he manages to have and make friends of any kind. Given how he tends to treat people. Although after thinking even more on that, he has to admit that when he's not being horrible. Murdoc can actually be a good guy to know. It's still often hard to know which way to turn under those circumstances. Often if he's turned to anger the man does something to either make him think twice about it, or simply guilty that he felt angry in the first place. Not by being nice, that would never happen. But often by pointing out something simple or making him look at everything in a whole other way. Which leads him to recall that Murdoc is himself in all things and to expect any more or less, is just foolish. That alone is enough to make him feel bad. I know what the guy is, so why do I keep expecting more? Realising that he's just frustrating himself now, Stuart grabs the milk and shuts the fridge door. Pausing as he's about to reach for the coffee pot, Stuart listens to the bassist laughing almost hysterically in the hall outside.

“How come I can't make him laugh like that?” he mumbles under his breath with a huff and pours himself a drink. Looking over at Noodle as she wanders into the room, he gives her a smile and feels a warm wave move through him when she smiles just as warmly back. Yeah, she's okay. Just needed some time to find herself. That's all. He thinks as he makes his way back to the table.

“Is he talking to someone on the phone, or pretending to. Like he did when it was his turn to do the dishes?” she asks as she takes a cup from the cupboard.

“No, he's actually talking to someone this time. I picked it up and heard them,” he replies with a nod. They stop talking and listen for a while, both of them wondering who the person is and why they sound like they've been friends for years.

“Did you know them?” Noodle asks.

“Nope. Some American guy, that's all I know,” Stuart replies.

“Ohh..... He probably owes him money,” she shrugs and finishes making herself a green tea. She's just sat down when the back door suddenly bursts open and a once again normal sized Russel rushes in, holding his crotch.

“Oh man, oh man, oh man.” They widen their eyes and follow his rushed progress through the room to the door, and out into the corridor where Murdoc is.

“What the-?”

“Out the damn way cracker!” Russel grunts before the bassist can finish the sentence. A thump and a guttural squeak follows.

“Ack, I hope some sod got the number of that bus!” Murdoc shouts. “Hello hello, are you still there?.... What? No, I was just run over by a low flying jumbo. Anyway....” His voice trails off as he walks further away. Following the heavy footfalls of the drummer as he races up the stairs, Noodle and Stuart stare up at the ceiling. Both of them flinch when an unseen door slams shut. But they continue staring up and listening for any clue as to what that was all about. All they hear though, is a loud groan of relief, which gives them the answer.

“That is a good question actually?” Stuart suddenly says, looking down and over at Noodle again.

“Sorry?” she grunts, looking at him as well.

“When he's huge, where does he go to pee?” The young woman's eyes widen as she thinks about that. With her mouth slowly falling open and for just a moment, looking almost the same way that he has done, when he's zoned out and thinking about things.

“I have no idea?” she suddenly says so softly, that Stuart barely hears her. Shaking the thought from her head, Noodle sips her tea then stares at the singer coolly. “By the way. What were you and Murdoc doing the other morning? I saw you and he walking upstairs with a box.”

“Oh, that. He has an office library thing in the err...” He pauses mid sentence and stares back at her thinking. Perhaps he shouldn't really say anything? Given the books that the bassist has up there. “Nothing,” he says instead and sculls his coffee as he stands up. She grabs his wrist gently as he passes her, pulling the singer to a stop.

“Stuart,” she presses him, making him look down into her glistening green eyes.

“Noo, he locks the door anyway. So there's no point in me saying anything,” he replies softly, ever so gently pulling out of her grip and approaching the sink. She stands and moves behind him, standing so close that the scent of her perfume washes over him and makes him breathe deeply.

“Stuart,” she repeats, standing there quietly watching the way he slumps his shoulders.

“Please don't go up there Noo. I shouldn't have said nothing and if he finds out...” His words die on his lips when he looks into her eyes and sees himself reflected in her dark pupils. Sucking a breath when her cool hand touches his chest.

“It's okay. I was only curious. I'm going to my room now,” she sighs breathlessly and letting her hand slide down his body as she turns to leave. She sweeps from the room like a soft breeze, laden with apple blossom and honeysuckle. Shuddering with the sensations moving through him, Stuart blushes and looks away nervously. “I wish she wouldn't do that,” he whispers. It's bad enough having Murdoc getting information out of him with threats of violence. Now it seems that Noodle has discovered that she can do the same thing. Except that it's a much nicer way and doesn't involve pain. Still, he doesn't feel at all comfortable with her using her feminine wiles that way. Not with him. Because she's as close to being his sister as she can get. So to speak. Sighing uncomfortably and pulling his shirt down to cover the growing lump. He quickly makes his way upstairs for a cold shower, before Russel finds out and flattens him for it.


_________________
All Hail the Purple Cloud of Mystery.


 


spyder1070 posted this on Tue Aug 06, 2013 8:16 am | View user's profileSend private messageReply with quote

Waking with a start, Stuart sits up panting but unable to work out what it was that woke him. It wasn't so much the dream that he was having. In fact, he recalls that it was rather pleasant actually. But thinking about it a little longer, he does remember that there was an odd sound that didn't really seem to fit and something about it bothered him considerably. Maybe that was it? Was it something outside the dream that had managed to invade the confines of it? Perhaps something that's in the room with him now? He pulls up the blankets and darts his eyes back and forth. What about those Gremlins from Murdoc's room? Have a couple of them escaped and are hiding in the shadows around him? After another vain look into the darkness, he frantically searches the bedside table for the lamp; inadvertently knocking it over instead. Hearing the crash as it hits the floor, he instead searches for his mobile. Finding it and using the face as a makeshift torch, he opens the drawer and uses it to find his real one. Once done, he then looks around the room, checking everything in the thin beam of light carefully. Not knowing what the creatures look like has him at a disadvantage. They could be standing right there, camouflaged in the furniture, or by the wallpaper. One thing is for certain though, he has no plans of stepping down off of his bed, until he's sure that there's nothing there. The "It" clown, Pennywise, gave him a phobia in that regard and one that he didn't need. No Gremlin is gunna grab my ankle and drag me to my doom, he thinks with a squint into the darkness.

Certain that he's alone and fairly sure that he'd simply scared himself for no good reason. He drops the torch back onto the side table and sits back. Still wondering what it had been that had woken him. Suddenly he hears the squeak of the floorboards outside his door and sucking a sharp breath and holding it. He sits perfectly still and listens to the sound carefully. Before grabbing the torch again, flinging back the blankets and creeping to the door when he hears another squeak a little further away. Opening the door and poking his head out, he shines the torch down the landing towards the stairs and catches Noodle, just as the young woman is about to take them up. Obviously sneaking towards the attic room. Determined not to let her go up there and get herself into more trouble that he's certain that she doesn't need. He takes a quick look around to be sure that they're alone and steps a little further out.

"Noo!" he hisses at a whisper, bringing her attempt to an immediate halt.

She snaps a quick look back and sees the singer standing there in his door way. Holding up her hand and blocking the light of the torch. She tuts and rolls her eyes, making her way back towards him while muttering under her breath. Shooting him an irritated look as she passes. She haughtily sticks her nose in the air as she makes her way down the stairs. Following her progress to be sure that she does, Stuart watches her carefully. Making sure to keep the torch light on her the whole time and give her no chance of slipping into the darkness to hide. She stops at her door and looks back at him almost pleadingly. But the older man has no intention of giving in on this request. So he waves her in and huffs out when she enters and shuts the door again. I guess I'm not getting any sleep tonight, he thinks with a deep sigh as he pulls back into his own room. Shining the torch around it again and looking at all the various objects. The singer taps a finger against his bottom lip, deciding to use his cunning to catch her out.

Suddenly all those years of coping with Murdoc are coming into play. The things that he did and tried to do in order to escape detection, when the man was searching for someone to torture, beat up or blame for something. He'd gotten rather good at it and on several occasions the man was in the very same room with him, but just hadn't been able to detect his presence. Even after a brief search that involved quite a lot of swearing and threats of violence against his person. That had made the singer cringe and shake so badly, that he'd begun to think the man would find him, simply because he was shaking that hard. It was kind of like a hidden object game, with a live subject. Or more like evil hide and seek. Considering who the seeker was and what the penalty for losing would be for the "sought". Either way he knew that if he was detected, then simply based on how much time the bassist had spent searching. The general degree of "worst case scenario" tended to rise in steady increments. Until the booze kicked in hard and the level of Murdoc's drunkenness moved towards unconsciousness. Only then could Stuart relax and let his guard down.

Coming up with a plan that he knows is fairly simple, but quite effective for his purpose. Stuart quickly places some pillows in his bed and grabbing a teddy from the top of the wardrobe; that had been made by a fan as a present for him. He places the "2D Bear" on the top so that only its tuft of blue hair can be seen. Now if she decides to looks in, she'll think that I've gone back to sleep, he thinks with a smile and dusts off his hands. He then quickly and quietly grabs the tossed clothes and magazines from the arm chair in the corner, picking it up and moving it over as quietly as he can. With it facing the door, he now has an unobstructed view and will be able to see her if she tries to walk past again. Checking that the door is open all the way, he then climbs into the chair and covers himself with the items, so that only his eyes can be seen. Even if someone were to turn the light on they wouldn't see him now and combining that with shallow breathing and his black eyes. They'd simply look past them and assume that the lump in the bed was him instead. Murdoc has done as much, several times over the years. Which sadly then forced him to witness the brutality, that the bassist rained down on his imagined "sleeping victim". Stuart shudders at the memory, then calms himself and settles down into his hide to watch.

Moments later the singer snaps his eyes open again, when he hears the squeak of the stairs above him. Looking over at the clock Stuart realises that he'd fallen asleep and curses himself. Leaping from his hiding place and quickly making his way out. He begins climbing up the stairs himself, doing all that he can not to wake the bassist and have him alert the young woman, by shouting at him. He takes a few longer than normal steps by the man's room to pass it quickly. Then looks up towards the landing above him, just in time to see Noodle's feet disappear around the bend. Husking at her to stop, he narrows his eyes when she looks back down over the rail at him. Jabbing a finger down towards the floor with a firm look etched on his face. He's almost glad to see her slump her shoulders and once again make her way back. Standing like a stern teacher when she passes him. He huffs through his nostrils to make sure that she understands his disapproval; He places a guiding hand against her back and hurries her along towards the stairs. Stopping outside the bassist's door, he sees her slow and come to a stop again. So he waves her along and watches, as she huffs out and walks back down the stairs, disappearing from view. Turning to face the rail and grabbing it with his hands. Stuart leans his weight down on them and rolls his head on his shoulders. Wishing that he'd been smarter and said nothing at all about the room. Because the stress of keeping her from its secrets, is beginning to show in the twitching muscles that he can feel around his eyes.

Nothing good could possibly come from it, especially that Demon Etsy Whatsist. Whatever it was called, he thinks with a strained sigh. That skin book has an air about it that just screams "stay away", and he wishes that he'd never laid eyes on it himself. Let alone touched it. Taking a step back and sliding his elbows down onto the rail, he rests there for a moment thinking. Bent over and looking down towards the floor below, at least here he can see if she approaches and stop her. Because this part of the house is an open area, a bit like a loft. Here he gets the best view of the stairs and there's no where that she can hide from view, if she comes back. It shouldn't have to be the case though and he's certain that it's all Murdoc's fault. Bowing his head and hunching his shoulders. He reaches back a hand and adjusts his underwear. Suddenly realising that it is all that he is wearing. He screws up his face in irritation with himself, because now the young woman has seen far more of him, than he had ever intended or wished her to. How. Embarrassing, he mentally groans with a soft whimper. Bowing his head and almost limply hanging down over the rail with a defeated slow shake of his head.

Behind him the bassist's door slowly creeps open and for a moment, nothing happens. All is quiet in the room and in the house and anyone looking out towards the stair railing in front of the bassist's room. Will see two long legs and a rump clad in pink underwear, bent over the rail in front of them. Almost as if presenting it for him to inspect. Two eyes glint at the rump in the darkness and slowly begins moving forwards. The face of the bassist is revealed as the dim landing light passes over the mask like features. With his face twisted into cruel grin, that seems almost etched into his face and his eyes slit. He passes his gaze over the sight before him, while slowly and silently continuing to move forwards with his hands raised, either side of him. Almost as though ready to grab the figure at the rail and drag it back into his room with him. The grin slowly changes to a salacious one and he licks his lips. Moving closer and closer to the figure bent before him. Before finally coming to a stop just a breath away from actually making contact. Taking a final single long look at the pale back hunched over the rail. He lifts his hand up and slowly lets it drop again, planting his feet firmly while preparing himself for action.

"It's just not fair," Stuart softly moans with a sad sob; Snapping the bassist to immediate attention, as to who it is there in front of him.

"Hells Bells, that could have been tragic," he snaps and takes a huge step back from the singer. Staring wide eyed at him, when Stuart spins and slams back against the railing. The bassist quickly drops the look of surprise and adopts an air of absolute apathy. In fact its so devoid of emotion, that it would make the dead look lively and amused in comparison. Stuart shakes his head and looks down away from it. Then squeaks and slaps a panicked hand over his eyes, when he notices the bassist's state of undress.

"Argh, you're naked!" he gasps and slides along the rail, keeping his hand clasped firmly over his eyes and trying to get as far away from the older man as he can. Desperately reaching forwards and around with his free hand. He tries to feel his way along to the stairs, carefully placing his feet and hoping not to misstep and fall down them. Murdoc darts his eyes all around the area, to be sure that no one saw what he had almost made the mistake of doing. Before finally turning his attention back onto the escaping singer and balling his hands into fists.

"No I'm not," the bassist grunts with an annoyed huff. Stuart comes to a stop and turns his head back, uncovering his eyes again for a split second to be sure that he had seen what he thought he'd seen.

"Oh Hell, you are and it's all wrinkly and old looking. I wish I was blind now. You old pervy sod," he wails then continues on his way, nearly falling down the stairs when he finally finds them. Looking down and seeing what he's talking about, Murdoc slowly cups his crotch with his hands and closes his eyes in disdain. It was bad enough that he came within inches of grabbing the guy. He could have gotten away with it, by saying it was a joke. But the fact that he'd done it "Balls out", makes it a little harder to waive off. At this time of the morning, as drunk as he is with the recent difficulties that he's going through. Coming up with a witty remark and a sarcastic laced excuse, isn't going to be easy.

"Hey, I'm wearing my boots and HE wasn't like that before. It's the sight of your damn girly underwear that's put him off his game," he snarls with a nod down to his flaccid member. Leaving it at that with an indignant harrumph. The bassist then marches back to his room and slams the door shut, locking it from the inside.

Determined to get away from the man and his limp willy. Stuart scampers down the last few steps and slams his way back into his bedroom. Barring the door and shuddering at the image of it in his head. He quickly drops down onto all fours and fishes his favourite porn magazine out from under his bed, then leaps up onto the mattress and snuggles under the blankets. Not at all willing to go to sleep with THAT image haunting his dreams for the rest of the night. He flicks to his favourite page and settles back with a sigh. When a sudden thought strikes him in regards of the incident, making him furrow his brow. Looking back in the direction of the door, then up in the general direction of the bassist's room. He runs it back through and begins to see that there was something really odd about the whole thing. What was he doing? Thinking about it and the state of undress the man was in. He runs back through a few possible scenarios and gasps when a possibility is reached. Noo?

"You filthy illegitemate offspring." Gritting his teeth hard and now quite angry at the bassist for his near actions. He looks back down at the picture on the page and breathes out slowly; Shifting his mood to one of a more relaxed state. "I'm not gunna think about him all night. Even if he is a damn perv what needs a good thumping. I wonder if I should tell Russ though? I think he'd like to hear about it, come to think of it," he thinks with an almost evil grin creeping up the corners of his mouth. Sniggering at that last thought, the singer eases a hand under the blankets and closes his eyes.

Waking the next morning with the sort of ease and smile that only comes from a nice amount of self service. Stuart yawns and snuggles down deeper into the warmth of his duvet. Looking over at the clock he sees that he'll be late if he doesn't get a wriggle on. But then leaving Noodle to her own devices, isn't exactly a good idea either. So he pouts and makes the decision not to go in today at all; Reaching over and grabbing his mobile, he rings his boss and tells her that he's not feeling to well. Tossing the device down again and closing his eyes. He sighs, not quite ready to get up and greet the day yet. Suddenly snapping his eyes open again. He realises that he can't not get up either. So grumbling softly he slides out and grabs his toiletries and a robe. Then makes his way past his bathroom, checking it first to see if he can use it yet. Seeing that the boars head is still hanging from the shower head, where Murdoc had left it. He shudders in discomfort and moves on to the communal bathroom instead.

The sensation of the water against his skin feels wonderful and he closes his eyes with a sigh. Rolling his joints and letting the warmth wash the small aches away. With just a small glance at the chair that he's jammed under the door handle, to prevent any Niccals attacks while he's vulnerable and the incident from last night creeping into his mind and settling there for a moment. The light of a new day has given him a much clearer view on it. But he's still not liking what he's seeing and. On the selfish front, sure the guy may have mistaken him for Noodle. The issue in regards to himself is the fact that if he hadn't said anything. Then what may have been the bassist's plan? He shivers and slams the thought away again. Not wanting to think about it any more, because it's just too horrible. One thing that he can say with any kind of accuracy about him. Is that of all the things that Murdoc has done, homosexuality, as far as he knows, has never made it's presence felt in his repertoire. He doesn't need to go down that road. He gets enough attention already, without having to ever go there, Stuart thinks as he slides the cake of soap up his arm. Turning it back to the Noodle front. If he was truly unaware that it was him, then it must have been Noodle that he was going after. But then it's the same thing, just worse. Now it's heading down the road of possible rape. Something that in all honesty, he should credit the man for. Nasty and despicable he may be. But at the end of the day, the guy does have certain points that keep him just one step away from being unforgivable. Murdoc would never go there, for the same reason why he wouldn't turn queer, Stuart thinks with a nod and a smile.

"If that's true though. Then what was he trying to do? Scare her, shock her maybe?" He stops soaping his body and stands there silently thinking about it. Then mentally slipping back to the moment in the library, he looks carefully at what happened there. Slowly he begins to get a far bigger picture than the one he's now completely focused himself on. "He wanted me to tell her... He's plotting." Tutting and shaking his head while he soaps his legs. He huffs out and mutters to himself about how stupid that is.

"Of course he's plotting, he's always plotting you dummy. But what's he plotting this time? That's what I really need to know." Stopping again and letting the water wash the soap away, Stuart leans back against the wall. "If he wants her to read the books, there must be a reason. He's not the kind to do it out of generosity. So there has to be something specific he wants her to see? Is he helping her? No no, he wouldn't... Or would he? He's been hurting since we got back. Maybe this is him making some kind of amends?"

"Who are you talking to in there Stuart?" Noodle calls from outside the door, then jiggles the handle.

"Um, no one... Myself?" he calls back with a grimace, hoping that she'll accept it.

"Oh, okay. Are you going to be long, I need the toilet?" she asks.

"Sorry, nearly done," he replies and ducking his head he runs his fingers through his hair, then shuts off the water.

Drying quickly he grabs his electric razor and other things, mentally reminding himself to brush his teeth later when she's finished. Then yanking the chair loose, he steps out and makes his way to his room again, taking a quick look back when she darts into the room behind him. If Murdoc is indeed offering a small hand of help to her to make up for what he did. Then yeah, that's a good thing and he should step back and stop interfering. The chances of him ever offering again are slim to none. But then this is Murdoc and he's never done it before. Why believe he'd do it now? Realising that he's just gone straight back to square one and he's completely out of moves right now. Stuart drops his head back on his shoulders with a grunt of dismay. Shrugging it off he drops his toiletries on his bed and walks over to the curtains, opening them and letting the morning sunlight bathe the room. Perhaps he needs to step back just a little and see how things play out for a moment. Until he's sure that it's safe, he won't let Noodle near the room. But then he won't be quick to judge that Murdoc isn't trying to help her now. He'll wait to see if there's any clues that that's what it's about. Before finally letting things move the way the man needs them to and not before.


_________________
All Hail the Purple Cloud of Mystery.


 


spyder1070 posted this on Thu Aug 08, 2013 12:48 pm | View user's profileSend private messageReply with quote

Lunch time had come and gone, with little to no drama. Aside from the usual day to day thing that they typically face and have happen around them. Stuart often thinks that he's not alone in missing the hustle and bustle of their life before. With interviews and fans making up a large part of their life. They still have fans of course. It's just that things have become a little too ordinary and pedestrian. It's almost a fresh of breath air that Murdoc and his weirdness has once again stirred things up for them. To a point. One good thing about it it is that Murdoc seems to have been distracted from his “Damon” problem and hasn't said a word about him recently. The only side affect being that if he hasn't got someone to focus on, who knows where he'll point it next.

Of course this time around things have centred around Noodle and Stuart has resolved himself on keeping her in sight. Everything will be fine, so long as she is. He's certain of that and sure that if Russel knew, then he'd agree with him. Speaking of Russel, he had managed to get her attention away from the room and he wasn't even trying. Every evening while everyone else is watching the late night film. She has been scouring recipe books for tasty and healthy dishes, that she can feed to the man and keep him normal sized. Stuart had taken to helping her and found the reward for that, is that anything that doesn't fit into the containers, that she packs and put in the fridge, like ready meals. He gets to eat. So in essence he gets two dinners. Ones that are far more filling and nutritious than the one he'd actually eaten for dinner. Every evening, she cooks prepares three meals. Breakfast, lunch and dinner. So all that Russel has to do is grab one and simply heat it up if it needs it. Because the guy likes fast food, she's made sure that it looks like it recently. Everything in it is healthy and low fat. But because it's in a fast food container and smells like something you'd find in a greasy wok. Either way, the man is far more receptive and has turned away from everything that he'd typically eat. Enjoying it far more and getting more out of it. He's better for it in the end.

By dinner time, everything had settled down again. A small drama that had started between Russel and Murdoc over who controlled the remote at lunch time. Ended when the drummer tried to insert the bassist in the chimney. Noodle came to the rescue and talked Russel down. Much to everyone's astonishment, including Murdoc. He of course took the opportunity with both hands and hammed it up. Tossing all manner of insults at the furious man. Until she “accidentally” slapped Murdoc in the groin when she turned to walk away. Apologies were made, as he curled into a ball on the floor, groaning and huffing in pain. She then helped him to his feet and walked him back to his lift chair and that was the last anyone saw of him for the rest of the day. Like a grand master though, the second that the sun went down, he was back and in very good spirits. Once again turning his attention on Russel and carrying on where he'd left off. Until Noodle asked when Sun Moon and Stars would return. Murdoc nearly spat a whole mouthful of mashed potatoes across the room and Russel started choking on something that he'd just put into his mouth. Seeing him turning purple and gasping Noodle jumped up and slapped him hard between the shoulder blades. The offending object spat out and struck the bassist on the cheek. He of course then acted like he was mortally wounded. But Noodle wasn't buying it and simply asked again.

“Sooooo?” Sitting up, he'd hauled himself to his feet and walked to the back door. Opening it with a cheeky grin back at her, he let out a shrill whistle that hurt everyone's ears and rattled things on the table. Then he waited for a moment, looking calm and casual, almost bored, as he tapped a finger against his wrist. Moments later the doorstep near his feet bubbled and wisps of dark smoke trickled up. Boogie ascended like a dark shadow from the ground and tipped his head to his shoulder, looking at him.

“Happy now?” Murdoc grunted and shut the door, with the creature following him and standing behind his chair when he sat back down. Hovering almost vulture like behind him, he almost looked like a pair of huge black wings that had grown out of the bassist's back. This struck Stuart like a bolt of lightning and suddenly several pieces of the puzzle snapped together.

“Damn voodoo man,” Russel mumbled as he finished his meal. Then grabbing the large fruit juice Noodle had made for him, he walked from the room. Stuart just couldn't stop looking at the sight. With his meal forgotten, he stared at the bassist and his evil shadow, running through the things that had previously confused him.

“Oi, Faceache! Why didn't you go to work today?” Murdoc suddenly grunted, snapping him from his musings. “What day is it?” he then asked Boogie, who whispered in his ear. “Yeah, Wednesday, Wednesday.”

“Sick,” the younger man shrugged, then grabbed his beer and walked from the room. Ignoring the protests behind him he made his way back upstairs. Things were clicking in his head and he needed silence to move them around to the best position. Murdoc had suddenly lost his original target which naturally meant that he was next. Which is why he'd really asked why he wasn't at work. Not because he was genuinely interested.

Had Murdoc been running from his own darkness for his whole life? From day one of his life till today, he's done nothing but be the most horrible that he could be. The more the singer thinks about it, the harder for it is for him to think of less than a handful of times where he had witnessed the man in a genuine light. Genuine as in friendly, honest or kind that is. If you know him you could say that he's a great guy to know, but only when things are going great. Shaking that from his head when he realised that he was bogging himself down with detail. Stuart stepped into his room and shut the door. The postman or Evangelist. Was he sent by God as his one last chance at redemption? The site said as much, but then that was all it said. Knowing Murdoc, he couldn't let go of control. His determination to have everything go his way and his mistrust of people. Probably meant that whatever plan the Evangelist had, he screwed it up by pushing everything in completely the opposite direction. Master of his own destiny. Stuart had thought with a slow nod of his head.

So that could be why Boogie is here then. Because Murdoc screwed it up, he's now stuck with the choice that he made. If he is the Boogieman, then why are there two of them? He's been sick since coming back from the island. Is it that his body has no soul and Boogie is the shadow cast from him? Does Murdoc have a shadow? Widening his eyes and recalling that they used to say that Vampires don't have reflections, when they look into a mirror. Stuart tried to recall if he has seen Murdoc cast a shadow since he's been here. Waving that away, because once again he'd not been concentrating on the details that he should be concentrating on, before he loses them. He instead thought about how quickly Murdoc had raced down the stairs, when he was told that Noodle was talking to Boogie. Why do that? Does she know that they are one in the same being? Is it because she doesn't know and he wants to keep it that way? Why does he want her to see the book? Is the answer in it and he wants her to find it without talking to him? Having Boogie here seemed dangerous. But if it is Murdoc, then perhaps he isn't now? Judging from the fact that he hasn't done anything to hurt anyone, he just seems to be waiting....? Picking up his laptop, Stuart switched it on and started writing down some of his observations. Thinking that perhaps if he sees them written down, then they'll begin to make more sense?

-----------------------------------------------------

Checking his reflection in the mirror and sliding a hand over his newly shaved chin. Stuart unplugs his razor and picks up his toothbrush instead. Squeezing paste onto the brush while he runs through the thoughts one more time. He finally sets it aside and brushes his teeth. Glad to have his own bathroom back, now that the dead pig head that had suddenly appeared in it, had been removed. Obviously some kind of message from Murdoc, which doesn't bother him as much as it may have in the past. He can take as long as he likes and not worry about the bassist barging in and catching him. It will take some time to get used to the smell though, he has to admit. He'd checked on the shadow thing and yes the bassist has one. Even though he'd waved the idea off as a silly one, it still gave him some time to really look at the guy. Still reminiscing about the good old days to anyone who'll listen. Not that they're hard to find, the fans are still waiting with bated breath for any news from him. He loves that far more than he cares to say. The problem is the man hasn't set foot outside since they got here. The closest he's got is to open the door and stand there in the doorway, looking out. Apart from sitting on the roof of course, but it's almost like there's some kind of forcefield that prevents him from stepping beyond the boundary of the house?

“Ack, now I'm being silly again,” he grunts and rinses his mouth. Putting everything away in the cupboard, then changing into his clothes he makes his way downstairs for breakfast.

Halfway down the stair the smell of bacon fills his nostrils and thinking perhaps Russel had snapped, he hurries the rest of the way down to hopefully say something and stop him from making a mistake. As soon as his frame fills the doorway Stuart sees that it's Murdoc, not Russel. Standing there in jeans and his boots with a spatula in his hand. The bassist snorts and turns back to the stove, not seemingly impressed to see the singer standing there. Humming happily as he turns the bacon over and rests his weight against the cabinet. He ignores the cheery good morning offered by his house mate and instead looks out the window and into the back garden. A chill breeze washes over him, sending a wave of goose flesh up Stuarts arms, that he tries to rub away with a degree of vigour. Gritting his teeth and turning to see that Boogie has entered the room. The singer sees that he is now standing there silently watching the man, as if intrigued by what he's doing.

“You finished?” Murdoc suddenly asks, then turns his head slightly and looks at the being in his periphery. Sun Moon and Stars slowly bows his head. Then like a dark ghost drops into the floor like a cloud of smoke and disappears. The soft purring growl sends a shiver through the singer and he quickly walks to the fridge and grabs the milk. Whatever that was about, Stuart certainly doesn't want to know. There's something between the two beings that has him on edge more than usual and it could be because he learned more than he wished to about them. Sometimes ignorance really is bliss. He thinks as he fills a bowl with cereal.

“Oh you is killing me man,” Russel says with a low growl at the bassist, as he and Noddle enter the room. The young woman eyes Murdoc carefully through slit eyes before she takes her seat. Knowing that until Russel gets back to normal, Murdoc is going to torment him as often as possible.


Later that day the singer is watching the rain through the lounge room window, when Noodle wanders in and asks him to please take out the garbage. He sighs and nods, then follows her back to the kitchen, stopping to watch her cutting up ingredients for tonight's meal for a moment. Then tying the top of the bag and pulling it out of the receptacle, he makes his way to the back door. Setting the bag down and doing up the zip on his jacket, he opens the door and sucks a quick breath at the cool air that hits his face. Walking down the path and around to the bin. He's taken by surprised when he hears it slams shut and click, as though someone has engaged the lock. Dropping the bag and rushing back in time to see Noodle standing there, with a cold expression on her face and her eyes almost devoid of life. Stuart jiggles the door handle and mouths at her to open the door. Not quite sure why she's doing this, but growing more and more concerned with each passing second. She looks down at the lock, then up at his face, lifting a hand and slowly pulling the blind down between them.

“No no no!” Stuart gasps with a terrified shake of his head.

She's done this to stop him from stopping her. Now he's locked out she has a free path to the room upstairs. Rushing down the stairs and racing around the side of the house to the front. He gets there just in time to hear that door being locked as well, so spitting in irritation, he picks up a rock. With the rain now pelting down he shakes the water droplets from his face. Marching across the yard and taking aim at the front window, he stops and mentally hears the bassist screeching at him. Desperate to get in, but not so much that he'd risk annoying Murdoc in that way. He drops the rock and paces a few times. Then looks up at the roof and catches sight of the large tree next to the house. Rushing over to it, he sees that the top most branches reach out far enough for him to grab hold of the roof and pull himself up. So shaking the memory of his childhood accident away. He leaps up into the branches and begins to climb.

He'd fallen out of a tree when he was a kid. This had given him the headaches that still plague him and had made all of his hair fall out and grow back blue. He's not about to let that stop him though. Saving Noodle from herself is far more important. Getting to the top and seeing that the decorative edge of the roof is just a bit further away than he had assumed. He takes a deep breath and holds it while counting down. Then leaps over, grabbing it and struggling to hold on. With images of his fall cascading through his mind, in a sickening, swimming swirl. Where up and down no longer appear to have any meaning. He digs the toes of his trainers into the wall of the building and pulls with all of his might. To lift his body up enough to throw an arm over. Finally making it onto the roof and rolling over onto his back. He blinks at the rain that is falling on his face, then rolls again and hauls himself up onto his feet.

Reaching the window of the attic room, he presses himself up against the glass and looks all around inside for the young woman. Not seeing her he wonders if perhaps he was wrong and all she had done was play a mean trick on him. Not quite ready to accept that though and find that he was wrong later. He continues to look and suddenly sees the door open. So he slips to the side and hides from view, breathing hard. Wiping a hand down his face he slowly takes a peak to see if it was her. Surely enough the young woman is looking around the room, so closing his eyes, Stuart hopes that she won't notice the books and simply leaves. When he opens them again, she's standing right there reading the spines and sliding her fingers over them as she goes.

“No,” he whimpers as her finger gets to the second to last book. This was the skin book that he really didn't want her to find. He still doesn't know if it's a good or a bad thing. But not willing to ignore the evil senses that fill him with dread, every time he simply thinks about it. He's fairly certain that he's right. But what can he do? She stops her finger on the book and with a held breath Stuart places his hand against the window pane. “Don't do it Noo,” he calls to her and bangs on the window to get her attention. She snaps her head around and stares at him, then slides the book from the shelf and clutches it to her chest. Running from the room and leaving him there, feeling cold and utterly defeated.


_________________
All Hail the Purple Cloud of Mystery.


 


spyder1070 posted this on Fri Aug 09, 2013 11:47 pm | View user's profileSend private messageReply with quote

Waking the next morning and feeling the slow thump of a migraine beginning to form behind his eyes. Stuart winces and reaches out from under the duvet to the side table drawer beside him. Blindly opening it and rifling around until he feels the familiar shape of a pill bottle. He takes it out and brings it to his face; creeping open his eyes to check that he has the right ones. Opening the bottle and shaking two of the pills into his hand. He then grabs the bottle of water near his lamp and swallows the pills down with a grunt. He then puts everything back and snuggles further down in the bed. Slipping his hands between his thighs and rubbing them together, while he presses his eyelids closed as hard as he can and waits for the pain to ebb away to something far more tolerable. The soft creak of his door makes him jump a little and hope that that isn't who he thinks it is. Until the soft fragrance hits his nostrils and he feels a gentle hand against the side of his head.

“Are you awake Stuart?” Noodle whispers softly, gently placing a bowl of soup down on the side table next to him.

“Mm headache,” he grunts painfully and curls up just a little tighter.

The sparkling light dancing in his head, seeming to pierce deep down into the very core of his brain and make everything sound far too loud. He winces at the crunch of Noodle moving over the rubble on his floor, towards the curtains. Then pulling them closed to keep out as much of the light as possible. She then makes her way back to the door and gently closes it as well. In the dim light that is coming from the bathroom window. She makes her way carefully back to the bed and takes down the covers to reveal his shoulders and head. Placing a soft cool hand against the back of his neck, she shushes him and gently presses on a few pressure points, to try to get the headache to ease off. It surprises him when the pain begins to recede and he slowly straightens out, to give her more access by rolling more onto his stomach. He sighs with relief when the pain pulls back even further and the dancing lights in his head go out. For the first time in years he almost feels no pain at all, even the pain in his back teeth has gone and he can think straighter.

“Is that better?” the young woman asks softly, smiling when he silently nods and lets out a deeper sigh and turns to smile at her.

“Thank you,” he husks and sits up when asked to do so. Letting her wrap the duvet back around him and obediently opening his mouth to receive the soup that she has made. One spoonful at a time.


Making his way back downstairs, Stuart pulls on his work jacket. Wincing at the tight feeling in his muscles and sniffling loudly. Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and wiping his nose. He's startled when someone grabs him by the arm and turns him back away from the front door. Looking down at Noodle, who is muttering in angry Japanese while marching him back towards the stairs. He coughs into his hand and tries to protest. Explaining that he has to go to work, because he's the only one that is bringing money into the house now. Not accepting that and pressing him up with a hand against the small of his back. She snarls that if Murdoc hadn't have been trying to play Mister Big all the time, then he wouldn't have to and everything would be fine.

“Hey!” the bassist's voice snaps at them from somewhere below. Looking down through the balustrade at the man, they watch him march around to the bottom of the stairs to glare up at them. “If I hadn't played Mister Big, as you put it. You two would never have had all that you've had over the damn years. Ungrateful swine,” he snaps defensively. Not about to allow him to sweep everything aside by making them feel guilty or obliged to back down without a fight. Noodle marches down again and comes to a stop directly in front of him.

“You...” she snaps, jabbing a sharp finger into the bassist's chest. “...know very well that it's not our career that I am talking about. I am talking about all those other double dealings, that brought us all the trouble that landed us here. Stuart has been working single handedly to keep up with all the bills. While you sit up there in your dark hole, brooding about the good times and snarling at anyone that will listen. Trying to make them think that it was everyone else that took it all from you. You...” she adds with another sharp poke. “...are you're own worst enemy and yes, Murdoc Niccals. It IS all your fault.” Slitting his eyes down at her and practically chewing the butt of his cigarette. Murdoc huffs deeply and spits it out over her shoulder.

“You...” he snarls back, jabbing a sharp talon into her chest. “...are not taking into account the fact that it was the double dealings that funded everything in the first place. Are you assuming that Kong and all the bills that went with it, didn't cost me a fortune every damn month? Or that those fancy bloody sets and hotel bills and planes and tour buses, not to mention YOUR f.ucking clothes. Were all donated by the bloody Goodwill fairy and cost absolutely nothing?” he watches the glint of realisation slip through her eyes and takes a step forward. Mentally grinning when this time, she actually steps back to accommodate him. “Yes I f.ucking brood. I sat down there in the guts of the damn building and even now I sit up there, talking to any sod that will listen. Trying to find the cash to keep the whole thing going. Haemorrhaging money it was and still is. Every time I plug up one hole, another springs up in place of it.”

“I-” Murdoc cuts her off by raising a threatening fist, watching her eyes widen at it as she sucks the words back with a gasp of shock.

“No bitch, no! You don't get to talk right now. You've said your massively piece and personally, I don't appreciate being slagged off to that arsehole, without getting the opportunity to tell you to your face. What a selfish, ungrateful little TART I think you are!” He lowers his fist again and instead grabs her by the front of her shirt, shaking in absolute fury and determined not to let her get away with a single thing that she said. “Do you think that people are just going to go, yeah sure. You can use the venue, free of charge. No! You have to schmooze and barter and rub peoples happy spots. Until they're gagging to get you inside their building for as little cost as possible. So YES, I am constantly going back over the good old days. I have to be sure that they understand exactly who we are and what we've done. So that they can be assured of getting their damn money's worth if they do a really nice deal for us. But there's no point doing that if you DON'T massage the fans happy spots. Trust me, they'll forget about you in as much time as it takes to change the television channel. YES, he is single handedly keeping this place afloat right now. But EXCUSE me bitch. That is because for years I kept everything else going all by MYSELF and I think that I deserve the damn break. So f.uck you if I asked him to do this ONE bloody thing for me this time around. But hey, you don't like it? Well that's fine then.” He lets her go and with a strangely pleasant smile, straightens her top for her.

“Muds I-” Turning a glaring eye towards the singer, Murdoc thrusts a warning finger at him and it's clear that he wants him to shut up. So Stuart slaps a hand over his mouth and nods an affirmation. The bassist instantly smiles again and looks back at Noodle.

“You can go back to your little pink Japanese palace. Play with your crappo tamo-whatsit and while you're doing that, make a very important decision. One of the biggest of your whole little life,” he says softly, for just a moment sounding very calm and happy.

“And what would that be?” Noodle asks, swallowing hard and for the moment feeling a strong sense that she's not going to like the answer.

“Where you're going to live and get your money from from now on. Then once you've done that and packed up all of you're great. You can GET THE F.UCK OUT!” he roars into her face, stabbing a finger towards the front door.

“No Muds, please don't,” Stuart begs and rushes down the stairs, shoving himself between them. “I know what you did and why you were doing it. I've never complained once about working, you know that. Hell, when you asked me to take a weekend job as well, I didn't even complain then, I looked. Even though it was just a joke, I still did it. Noo, didn't mean what she said. She was just a little girl and didn't understand any of it early on. You never said nothing to her about it. So you have to consider that maybe she still didn't understand just before. Please don't kick her out for misunderstanding you, please?” Bowing his head sadly, he waits for the Hell fire to rain down, but is surprised when nothing happens. So he lifts a cautious eye up to the man and sees the quizzical look on the bassist's face.

“Err, yeah. I...?” Staring at the suddenly wide awake singer in front of him, Murdoc steps back and begins walking back to the kitchen. Pausing and turning back to look the younger man over again, he shifts his weight to one hip and rubs the stubble on his chin. “That was unusually astute of you there Dee?” he growls softly with a suspicious sneer spreading across his face. Widening his eyes and thinking quickly, the singer coughs into his hand and pulls his jacket a little tighter about him.

“Noo gave me this massage thing and something went pop,” he lies, bowing his head again. A slow chuckle builds in the bassist's throat, then suddenly he breaks out in a gale of laughter, slapping his thigh.

“Hells bells,” he sighs eventually and wipes a tear from the corner of his eye. “I'm sure it did. Go on you two, get.” Watching him wander back into the kitchen, the singer grins broadly because he knows that that means that everything is fine again. The tension has broken. Murdoc isn't going to kick the young woman out, and once again he managed to get away with a moment of cleverness, without injury.

Before Murdoc changes his mind, Stuart urges Noodle up the stairs by feigning weakness. She helps him back to his room and while he takes a warm bath, she picks up a few of his things and lightly tidies his room, then helps him back to bed when he's done. Not letting her leave the room until he's sure that she understands that he didn't mean it. It's only then that he sees that she isn't even truly bothered by what he said and already knows that that was simply a whole lot of stress working it's way out of the bassist's system. When she leaves it's then that he recalls that Noodle has never really found his angry outbursts frightening. She didn't even move from the spot when he raised his fist just before. Although he doesn't doubt that she was probably was surprised to see it there in front of her face. He couldn't see her face from where he was to be certain of that, but he's sure that she probably swallowed a little hard all the same. Of course he knows that she knows, that no matter how angry he may be with her, he'd never lay a hand on her in that way. Not just because Russel would beat him to death. But because the bassist knows that would be one step too far, even for him. Settling back down under the warmth of the blankets, he closes his eyes again and sighs deeply. Wondering if Murdoc's outburst has changed the rules slightly for everybody.


_________________
All Hail the Purple Cloud of Mystery.




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