This pink haired man had just approached her. He looked odd enough for her to become suspicious enough to raise a fist; usually, there are the freaks that dye their hair like that and hang out in the alleyways, and this one just approached her with what she thought was the lewdest comment yet, complete with a smirk on his face.

“So, it seems you’re a rather rough player,”

That’s what made her fire her fist at him, but this time, she realized that this person wasn’t just some kind of normal freak: he caught her punch and held on firmly to it, effectively blocking the blow.

“Aw, come on, I wasn't that rude.”

Did he really believe that? Good for him. Eden raised her free hand, firing another punch right after he had spoken. Again, he was swift, catching the attack in the palm of his other hand. He held on to it firmly, looking at her. For a brief second, Eden narrowed her eye and gritted her teeth, just before Ticker flew out of her clothes and barreled towards the man’s face. The silver golem clobbered the man’s nose, and while that event was going on, Eden’s hand slipped out of his grip. She grabbed his wrist and jerked him forward, bashing him face-first with the mask that sat upon half her face. Her cigarette went flying, but she didn’t let him go just yet. She jerked him forward again, lifting her leg suddenly and slamming her shin into his crotch.

She spun around him and kicked him behind the knees, making them buckle, making him kneel. And for a moment, she stared at him, pulling out and lighting up another cigarette as she began to turn, walking away. Ticker flew around the man for a while before moving to and landing on his master’s shoulder.

* * *


On the edge of the rooftop, Raisha kept looking out at the horizon. The sun was almost completely gone, now. There was just a tiny line of orange still peeping over the horizon. Another minute or so and that would be gone; twilight would be over, and the sky would be covered over with black velvet, sprinkled with shining, white dust.

Should she come down now? Raisha glanced over the edge, looking at the elevators still moving up and down. They haven’t gone home for the night, yet, she thought. Once the elevators were less active, less people would be in the large building, and she thought that that would be the best time to come down. But for now, she stood up and wandered around the edges of the roof, stopping at each corner, taking in the bright city lights and the cold air.

* * *


Manic stood up, now. But not on his feet at all—people watched as the queer person walked all around the dock on his hands. Some children even clapped, while their parents tried to keep them away from the odd person. He kept moving toward anything that attracted him.

First, it was the city lights. When he began moving there, he saw the flash of a watch on a man’s wrist. He stood and stared for a little while until it stopped. A car drove to the end of the jetty, one of those pretty, pearlescent painted cars…until someone told the driver that he wasn’t supposed to be there.

In his wandering, his arms got kind of tired. Could they even get tired? He didn’t know, but he felt tired of walking on them. He had reached down to the sandy beach by now, and all he had to do was give himself a small push. His body toppled over, he laid face-up on the dry sand, still warm from the sun’s heat. Clown spread out his arms and his legs, as if he were going to make angels on the ground; instead, he began counting the stars, most of which were blotted out because of the brightness of the metropolis behind him.

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