Out of the Studio

His feet were heavy and morose as he left the studio below his home, watching his hand close over the metal door pull and slam it shut. His work was not really getting done as efficiently as he would like, and it was making him irritable. His blue eyes, looking through the glass at the messy display of art supplies, landed on his work, and he turned away, his lip curling in distaste from his own work. He took his hand from the pull and stalked off, not particularly wanting to go home.

He figured he could make the rounds, maybe go to the pub down the road, maybe he could just roam the streets and act like the fool he was. He ran a bony, thin, and pale hand through his nearly black hair, appreciating the darkness surrounding him and squinting up at the blinding streetlights booming down on him from above. He shuffled along down the street, allowing his feet to take him wherever they wanted to go.

They were taking him closer to the center of town, even though he usually didn't appreciate the bright lights and bustling people who dressed nicely and probably had taken showers that day. He didn't particularly like their snootiness and their upturned noses, nor their many bags full of merchandise that cost more than his whole life had.
But he skulked along regardless.

Ziggy stood huddled behind the numerous rows of grimy trashcans. Their overfilling lids spewed rancid smelling scrapes of waste. He let out a loud sigh as his empty stomach curdled to the putrid scents that entrapped him.
"Even this junk is making me hungry.." he moaned under his breath while vigorously scratching his matted hair.
He ignored his pleading stomach and began to ascend his way up the metal railing looming over his head.

Ziggy was in the process of pulling a sadistic prank. He carefully juggled several black balloons filled with a red liquid substance, playing the role of blood. The plump balloons were tightly caressed in his arms, cradling them like like newborns.

He would now patiently wait from his high perch, which was atop a metal fire-escape that coiled itself alongside a brick apartment wall.
Picking out the perfect victim would be an easy task. He simply had to wait for someone who stood out from the bustling crowd below him. Someone who would really make a scene in the center of the road, waving their arms in the air, screaming frantically.

"Kind of like Carrie.." he chuckled to himself, "Yes that was a good movie.." he continued. He began to mumble simple nothings under his breath, striking up one on one conversations. His mind suddenly snapped back to business as he found a rather plainly dressed main walking below him. "Perfect..." his hissed with malice lingering on his gentle words.

He huddled over the metal railing, raising his heavy balloons out infront of himself.

"1...2...3.."

He walked cautiously along, running into numerous distressed shoppers who all gave him dirty looks, eyeing his look that was so opposite from theirs. He didn't mind, and again looked up at the bright lights above him, wishing someone could turn them off. He spotted a figure above him, and squinted, unable to really make out who it was, or what they looked like.

He shrugged and continued, sidestepping the stiletto heels of the city women and keeping his head down. He pulled his coat over him to protect from the chilly night air, feeling almost instantly warmer.

Emily Clare pulled her Faux fur coat around her small frame, breathing in the smell of chemicals from the laundry detergent. Her long jeans stretched past her ankles and under her Converse tennis shoes. The fabric tightened as her muscles moved into a rhythm as she headed towards the nearest coffee shop. She hugged her little purse closer to her ribs as she passed a few suspicious alleyways.

Her heart fluttered like a butterfly's wings as her slight phobia of the dark caught up with her. She blinked several times, trying to clear her muddled thoughts. She straightened her shoulders and continued on, tiredly thankful when she spotted the neon sign of the shop. Em quickened her pace. Hurry, hurry, she thought to herself. She barely noticed a fragile-looking man, dressed a little oddly, in the corner of her eye.

Ziggy snapped his head up towards the sky completely bewildered by the fact his aim was completely off. Frustration bubbled inside the pit of his empty stomach as he began to chuck numerous balloons from the high balcony.

They scattered sloppily into the air, bubbling awkwardly as the liquid sloshed from side to side in the rubber interior. Five heavily filled balloons cascaded onto the floor hitting numerous amounts of mortals.

He cursed under his breath while looking downwards at the scene, still upset by the fact his first throw was so unsatisfying from before. His twisted frown of disappoint suddenly made a left turn as he saw the frantic beings below him; doing exactly what he had predicated.

They ran in circles, all screaming the same verse, "Oh god! Is this blood!?"

He snickered loudly, which lead into bellowing laughs, echoing throughout the busy streets.

Giant balloons of red stuff fell all around him, landing with a large splat and exploding all over the pavement. It was too thick to be blood, he concluded, but again gazed upwards, shaking his head. It was a little funny, he thought, but it was also funny that the other people, the upper class, had surely gotten what they deserved for looking at him that way.

He examined their now red-splotched clothes, women huffing and stomping and running in every direction, men scoffing and trying to wipe their expensive shoes. He looked down at his still spotless shoes and smiled to himself, his mood lightening a few tones.

He walked back in the opposite direction, his secret wishes of all of them being embarrassed at once had actually come true. His black woolen jacket had only a few splotches of red on it, and he shrugged, continuing along.

Emily's first reaction to the splattered liquid was to stare, dumbfounded. The end of her pants were absolutely soaked. Small dots sat on her thighs as she squatted and placed a hand in a puddle. She sniffed her dripping fingers. Nope, not blood. She looked up, standing again. A dark figure was on the rooftops, moving around. In a sudden spur of the moment, Em turned to an oblivious passerby and growled. Her fingers were bent to look like claws as she yelled and frightened the 40-something year-old man.

Cackling, she shook a large amount of the "blood" off of her palm. She hadn't felt such pure innocence in a long time. Examining her new jeans, Em skipped along the sidewalk.

Ziggy scrambled his way down from the loose railing. He nearly slipped under his own eager feet numerous times, but quickly was able to catch his clumsy self. A devilish grin covered the whole of his face, making his chapped lips curl into the grin of a jack'o lantern. He anxiously jumped the rest of the way, thirsting to see the scene up-close and in person.

As his feet hit the red stained pavement, he wore an innocent face, looking around completely confused and distraught. In his mind, he laughed loudly, wanted to point and roll along the narrow road. His pleasure suddenly wore slim as he saw the plainly dressed man walk away... untouched.
"Are you... kidding me?" he grumbled under his breath while beginning to push away from the outdated amusement.

As he walked from the busily distressed crowd, he cautiously lurked in the shadows behind the man.

He headed back to his small apartment, looking down at his feet. The concrete bounced as he walked, though his step was sluggish as he examined his surroundings as the lights dimmed and the shop windows became normal-looking again. In doing this, he bumped into a tall blonde girl, who seemed to be very happy.

"Oh, pardon me," he said, looking down. She was very pretty, and he understood that now he had to walk away. He started going the same way he had been, his feet clip-clopping on the sidewalk.

"Hey! Wait!" Emily said, feeling extraordinarily social for a change. She stomped after the soft-looking guy that had bumped into her. She smiled and held out her hand. "I'm Emily. How did you manage to not get soaked? I'm creating a puddle as I stand here."

Emily silently evaluated his thin arms, hiding under his coat. He looked pale, maybe even hungry. Awkwardly, she motioned towards the coffee shop. "Do you want to come in and get something to eat? You look hungry. Don't worry I'll pay."

Jealously seemed to have attacked Ziggy almost all at once. His lurking session had turned into innocent eavesdropping. His stomach grumbled loudly in his shadowy hiding place.
His lips smacked as he decided to do the unimaginable, carefully picking himself up from the ground, he leaped into the center of the road.

"WHOAH! Did you guys see that scene back there?" he said with animated expressions. His hazel eyes were bright & wide and his mouth hung agape, completely over exaggerating. He nervously threw his arms behind the back of his neck, awkwardly positioning himself in-front of the two mortals. He 'nonchalantly' looked downwards to his thin stomach, "Boy, am I huuungrryy." he laughed while emphasizing his pitch on the last word.

Emily glanced between the two, a blush creeping into her expression. She stared, bewildered, at the crazy guy who'd just jumped in front of her. She chewed at her bottom lip. Ummmmm... She couldn't...

"Do you want to get food too?" Em pointed at the shop, a timid, fake smile lifting the corners of her mouth. She rubbed her arm nervously and scratched her shoulder.

He turned on his foot, a broad smile forming on his face. He stuttered a bit before saying, "I'm..I'm Rhys... I suppose I just kind of got lucky... and, why, yes, I'd love to thanks." He hurried back to where she was standing, just as the strange man jumped out from behind the trash bins.

He looked uncertainly at the man standing before him, who was awkward, pale, and disheveled-even more so than he. He was extremely uncomfortable now, and looked hesitantly at Emily, knowing she didn't want to invite him. She looked just as uncomfortable at him with this seemingly homeless man, though, he supposed, his appearance might come off as that as well.

Em was silent for a few moments, continuously glancing between the tattered looking men. They both must've been quite a few years older than her, her being only 17 years of age. She sighed and ushered them into the the shop.

She stood at the counter and ordered a few items: A few sodas, biscuits, croissants, two sandwiches and bag of peanuts for herself. She piled it onto the table where the threesome sat with a forced smile. "Enjoy yourselves. If you need more, just ask. Though, it looks like enough."

Ziggy's countenance gleamed brightly as his attempt to slither his way into the group had succeeded. He gave an obnoxiously wide grin, the tips of his fangs beginning to appear. He self consciously smothered his hands onto the top of his mouth, a nervous giggle erupting in his throat.

He obediently followed the young mortal girl, flashing the male an smug grin of success.
The strong aroma of unappealing food tickled his barren stomach. A loud grumble eroded from the underneath of his baggy black shirt. A phantom blush dashed across his colorless ivory cheeks. He ignored the fact he could feel their analyzing faces burning deep into his skull. He casually looked at the pile of food before them, carefully picking up the toasted biscuit.

"Erm.." he mumbled with a low cough, "What's this suppose to be?"
He pinched the soft bread against his pale fingers, bringing it close enough to his face for his eyes to examine. His brows curved into a high, and confused arch. He shrugged his shoulders while flicking the piece of food across the table. He continued his mortal food exploration by fumbling his curious hands to the can of soda.

'S..sp-..Sprite?" he inquired while tilting his head to the side, chunks of brunette locks fell to the front of his lean face.
"Ya'nah.. I see these things floating around in the sewers-.. I mean, I see them quite often, yet have never had the chance to try one!" He perplexed while giving off another anxious laugh.

He pushed the soda can to the center of the table with the tip of his forefinger. His hand nervously weaved itself within the roots of his dark hair.
"Uhmm... I'm Ziggy.. I mean Zander. I'm Zander!" he said while motioning his arm outwards to the two who sat completely baffled in front of him.

Emily stared at Zander's outstretched arm. Sewers? Was that what he'd said? Em looked over at Rhys with a hesitant smile. Turning back to Zander, she said, "We'll I'm Emily Clare. And you...live in the sewers?"

She picked up her coffee and leaned back in her chair. The situation was becoming more awkward as she sat. She was so confused. Why would he want to barge into her and her new friend's meeting? Suspicion wormed it's way into her head; she was never more nervous than now.

Rhys' eyes kept darting to the strange man next to him, wondering if he was alright. He smiled so widely that it looked unnatural, and he could tell it was forced, but when his giggle came, he was more than a little freaked out. He furrowed his brow and tore his gaze away, entering the small coffee shop.

He sat down at one of the dainty chairs, looking up at the piles of food she had given them. "Thank you very much," he said, his voice quiet and dark, but also full of suspicion for the man sitting next to him.

He asked about the biscuit, and he threw a questioning glance to the girl and turned to him. "A biscuit, it's composed of bread. You're supposed to put jam or honey on it." It was as if he was new to being alive, he was like a full-grown child.

As he began to talk about the sewers, Rhys became even more suspicious. Was this man homeless? He supposed he must be, or maybe just a wanderer, something strange. And his name was Zander? Ziggy? Who knew, it was peculiar, and Rhys felt himself wanting to leave. He scooted his chair backwards, hoping Emily would understand how uncomfortable he was.

"Um, you'll have to excuse me, there's something back at my... erm, workshop I seem to have forgotten about." That wasn't a complete lie; he had inadvertently forgotten to close his favorite bottle of paint, and he needed it for tomorrow. He had purposefully avoided the word studio so that neither of them knew what he was, or what he did. The man might follow him home; take his jacket or something, and he didn't have enough time or money to buy a new one.

He stood, glancing behind him, nodded curtly to both of them, realizing he still had the biscuit in his hand. He didn't want to put it back, so he just held it awkwardly in his hand and strode out of the shop.

Emily stared after Rhys, eyes wide. He was leaving her...here, alone. She waved after him. He must have recognized the awkward feelings between everyone. Biting her lip, she thought furiously. She needed a way to distance herself from this unusual guest. She fingered her charm bracelet and sighed heavily.

"Well, it's getting to that time where I am needed at home." Em could feel her heartbeat picking up as she tried to make excuses. She ground her teeth together as she lied. It was an awful feeling, lying. She didn't like it at all. "So...I think I should go."

Ziggy quickly interrupted as the word sewer lingered in the mortals questioning, "Uh-no! I meant uh..My..apartment. It's kind of near the sewers.." he murmured with a low sigh, he scratched his head nervously and began to tinker with the soda can once again, digging his nails against the thin aluminum.

His eyes widened as the mortal man stood to his feet, "Wait! ... Really?" he said enthusiastically, while suddenly realizing he would be alone with the female human, "Oh yeah.. you and your.. uh- work.. Get to it!" he said while throwing his thumb up infront of his face.

He waved vigorously as the man turned his back to the door, a wide smile appearing onto his pale face. He sat and gazed at the girl awkwardly, his eyes tracing her every detail. His exploration was quickly interrupted as she suggested the fact she had to be off on her own ways as well.

"Wa-wait, I can walk you home?" he wailed with wide pleading hazel eyes. His beseeching pleads were cut short as a loud thud caught his attention. He jolted to the side, wooden chair speaking across the tiled floor.

Ash Strauss's tower-like body stood hovering over Ziggy's petite in comparison frame. Ash's fist was coiled onto the hard wood table. His eyes were soft, and expression; placid. Thank god.

"What are you doing here so late?" Ash began to joke, his attention was caught by the mortal woman who sat infront of Ziggy, expression completely baffled. "Who's this?"

Emily opened her mouth to accept his offer, but was interrupted as a stranger slammed it's hand down on the table. Emily jerked back and stared up at the new arrival. She gaped at his soft features and warm eyes. She was astounded by his loveliness and grace.

She looked back to Zander. His emotions were clearly portrayed on his face: Relief. What for? She stood when he inquired after who Em was. "My name is Emily Clare. I was just...buying him some food."

She held out her hand, "Do you know Zander?"

Ash graciously accepted her hand, gently giving it a friendly squeeze. Ash's approachable mannerism knocked Ziggy out of his attempted spotlight.

"It's a pleasure, Miss. Emily Clare." His words were low pitched and as soft as his placid expression. He tilted his head to the side, gracing a soft kiss atop her warm hand.

"I am Ash Strauss."

Ziggy sat quietly in the shadows of the conversation, brooding silently to himself. An irritated expression curled onto his face as he watched Ash smooth his way onto the front of the stage.

"Zander? You mean Ziggy?" he laughed while throwing his hand against the bridge of Ziggy's hunched shoulders. He looked down at the sullen vampire and flashed a brilliant grin, "So.. you tell the ladies it's Zander, eh?" he laughed while beginning to straighten his posture.
He eyes fixated back to the mortal girl, as he began to motion a gesture to the door, "I'd be honored to escort such a lovely woman her way home."

Ziggy's eyes slowly rolled to the back of his head, making low gagging noises under his breath.

Emily grinned, "I don't live too far from here. I was just going to get coffee when I met him." She gestured towards Zander slightly, not taking her eyes off of Ash. Picking up her purse and tossing her drink in the trash can, she bounced towards the door. "Come on."

Em sighed contentedly as she walked out in the chilly air. She adored walking, seeing the people around her, and listening to the city. There was always noise, whether it was the busy streets, gossipers, or just the wind. It was like the city was breathing; taking a large breath during the day, and releasing it at night.

She shook her contemplative thoughts away, like water, and stared down at her red-stained jeans.

He glanced back through the window, seeing someone else enter and seem to startle Ziggy, and shook his head in confusion. He was sorry to leave, but he pushed his dark hair from his icy eyes and continued on anyways.

He looked down at his feet and shuffled down the road, going at a very slow pace so he could hear if Emily left as well.

Ash obediently followed the young woman, gesturing for the pouting vampire to follow along. Ziggy stammered to his feet, bumping his knees against the bottom of the table, "Damnit!" he hissed under his breath. If things could only get worse on his part.

"So where do you live?" Ash asked while fumbling his hands deep into his long black coats pockets'. The jacket's collar was raised high, almost like count Dracula's cape. Cliche'. The dark material brushed against the lobes of his ears, covering his ivory neck. His gaze turned to the side as he saw Rhys walking down the dark street.
"Hey, isn't that your friend?" he inquired while flicking his wrist to and fro.

Ziggy sulked behind Ash's shadow, quickly spinning around to see if the man was nearby. That's all he needed; another man in the group.

Emily spun on her toe, almost colliding with Ash. She stumbled, trying to avoid him, and her shoe slipped. She clutched at Ash's shoulder. Great. She had tried to not run into him and ended up falling onto him. Rolling her eyes at herself, she attempted to right her feet.

She mumbled an apology and limped a few feet back. This was awful. First her pants, then that guy showed up, now her ankle hurt. She wrapped her arms around herself, blushing. She needed to get home.