Alice Apocalypse, Chapter 2

There is not much doubt in the stillness of the night. She gazes out over the horizon, in her hand a mug. Jagged lines run down the porcelain cup, staining its pure whiteness with stripes of black. Her hand hovers above the cup, and she stares up at the stars.

It is warm and deeply scented with the thick fragrance of coffee. She sniffs at her palm, amused at her own actions. Under the deep cloak of the sky-- ragged and bitter with blackness-- she feels comfort. It is probably unheard of to be out of home, even though it was her home-- the wilderness outside of the barriers of thick, cold walls, in the darkness. This is the time for the members of the triads, a secret meeting amongst the smoky haze. Deep grunts and irritated growls.

"Alice," he breathes.

She groans. Mike, again. He was pestering her over her meeting with Brian, once more. That thick-skull moron, she pauses in her thoughts, wondering who she was exactly scolding. Both, she decides. Mike shuffles over to where she sits, his palm falling over hers. Rolling her eyes, she slaps it away. He settles down into the nest of grass and stares at her. His onyx hair falling into his eyes and his thumb resting on his lower lip.

"What now, Mike?" she demands.

"The papers, you left them--"

"I have no need for such junk."

"Then why the hassle to retrieve it from Brian?"

She laughs shakily, gingerly placing the mug on the grass. The brown liquid sloshes about in its own hypnotising pattern and she gazes at it dazedly. He pokes her arm, and she shudders at the warmth of his hand.

"I assumed you should have known by now."

"Tell me," he questions, leaning in.

"There is no need to tell you."

"Hm," he draws back, staring at the stars.

There is a brief silence as she glances at his profile, surprised at the sudden disappearance of curiosity. She raises an eyebrow suspiciously and scowls. There is no doubt that his very presence --although it had meant to be one to comfort-- was disturbing her. To each her own, there was not much trust-- most of the people who joined the 'black' society had their trusts worn out and splintered into fragments-- if there was even trust left to be placed into the unpredictable hands of people.

She is back in Nox, away from the peacefulness of Eden. In Nox, most of the hours are dedicated to the darkness, to the dreams of the night. Eden was crippling, the bright sunlight that caressed her face, blowing lightly at the strands of chocolate hair that masked half of her face. She tried to draw up her hood, but the people there didn't seem to mind, so she showed her face and arms, proudly embossed with the Nox mark.

"Tell me about Eden," Mike pips up.

"What?"

"Eden, you heard me."

"Who would ever want to know about that place?"

"I do."

"We're in Nox, dude." She sighs at Mike's antics.

"Just because we're in Nox doesn't mean that we can't dream."

"We all dream--"

"Dream in colours?" he interrupts.

"Monochromatic world, this one is. We're in Nox. It's a secret rule never to yearn to be back in that place. We're different, better not to know about Eden," she shakes her head, reaching out for the mug once more.

"I was curious, I don't yearn for things. I am incapable of feeling strong emotions, you know that."

"Fine, it's a place where Nyan-Cats poop rainbows and fluffy ponies fly all over the palace of wonders, hear that?"

"You're speaking like them, now," he complains, ruffling her hair.

"Dude, you didn't have to ruffle my hair. It's true that there are Nyan-Cats that poop rainbows and dudes that sing in chipmunk-like sopranos."

"No, not like the others. You speak difficult terms of the people in Eden."

"I do not," she spits.

"We were from there, once. I don't see what's wrong in speaking like them," he draws circles on the grass.

"It's wrong, it just is."

With that final statement, she stands up with the mug in hand and stomps away. Mike glances dazedly at her retreating figure. She sighs, swallowing back that tiny amount of hesitation. Right now, she would have rather been from Aora, even Kingslain than Eden. Anywhere but that. And she would rather Mike be smarter, instead of being ignorant to spew out logical statements that made her head hurt. If only his brain was a bit more warped and dark.

Then again, she wished that everyone's mind was less complex and simpler. That was the only way she could return to Eden-- an impossible dream of vivid colours.
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I has no idea what I has written.

You can see that my brain have deteriorated to the point where I has no grammar at all.

... Alice is squishy and cute.
Jerry, don't tell her that, even tho I repeat it to her every single day.
Lol.

Ollie : D