Plastic Parade is an average Killjoy. She spends her time running from BL/ind, looking for shelter, and finding food.
But one day, she gets in an accident. She is wounded, and found.
But not by who she thought.
She is taken in, and is given a place...
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Thecar ride probably took about three hours, but it didn't seem thatlong to Plastic. Although she was a fairly impatient person, thepersistant humming of the car engine and the bounce of it runningover potholes or large cracks seemed almost soothing to her, sinceshe had practically grown up in a car.
Shewasn't aware of it, but she had spent almost the entire car ridechewing on her knuckle—which was a bad habit of hers. The skinthere was bleeding and red. Oops.
Aftera while, Party (who was driving) turned them off the road and ontobare sand. They drove for a long while this way, until the road waslong gone behind them. Gone.
Small,short buildings were present in the distance. At first, Plasticthought they were a mirage—just a trick of the light. But afterthey didn't go away, and they pulled up to them and parked among aplethora of different vehicles, she was forced to admit it was, infact, real.
Thebuildings were not so much buildings as they were shacks, and not somuch shacks as they were pieces of propped-up wood, scrap metal, andwhat looked like dirty blankets.
Somore like tents, really.
Partytold Broken and Plastic that they could wander as they pleased, butto meet at the car when the sun set. Then he and Fun Ghoul headedinto one of the sturdier looking shacks, that had what looked likebent hoods from various cars as a roof.
Brokennodded at Plastic and immediately departed, off to who knows where.
Therewere Killjoys everywhere.
Somewere yelling out what they were selling, with empty promises of 'thisis the best' and 'you can't live without it'. Others were sitting onblankets or on the bare sand inside the little tents, talking toother Killjoys. Then of course, there was the masses, swarming aroundPlastic and making the space seem much smaller than it really was.When she headed off in a random direction, she couldn't help but feellike a fish swimming upstream.
Plasticwinced at every loud nose, a huge, tight knot of nerves and anxietyclenching in her stomach. Someone began to play some sort ofhigh-pitched trumpet, very loudly in her ear.
Sheshivered, and mumbled 'sorrysorrysorry' over and over as she bumpedinto people, desperately trying to resist the urge to cover her ears.
Finally,she relented. She plugged them with her pointer fingers, then triedher best to use her palms to cover them as well. The sound was stillthere, but muffled, as if she was hearing it through water. Shewanted to close her eyes.
Theloss of sound calmed her, and the knot began to loosen. But itimmediately tightened again when a group of people began cheering atsome unknown thing. She ripped her hands off her ears and beganrunning, weaving her way through people, ignoring the concernedmurmurs, which sounded as loud as drumbeats.
Shehad been alone for nine years of her life. This did many things toher, including making her social skills dull, and making her alwaysnervous around people. It also made her sensitive to loud noise, dueto the fact that coyotes and sometimes her own voice were the onlythings she heard, paired with the light hisses of her feet digginginto sand.
Thiswas too much.
Therewas too much movement. Too many colors. Too many loud, discordantsounds that grated on her ears like nails on a chalkboard.
Then,she spotted something. A tiny, narrow, dark ally way, devoid ofpeople. She darted into it as fast as she could.
Itfollowed a small corner, which led to a dead end. She fell down intothe cool sand, leaning against the wall and plugging her ears again.It was dark in the ally way, but it did nothing to soothe her. Thesound was still there, and the knot kept tightening. Tighter andtighter, until it tightened around her neck and made her breathingdifficult. She squeezed her eyes shut as hard as she could. Whimpersof distress wormed their way out of her mouth.
Faintly,she felt a hand on her arm. Then a tug on her head, and her eyes werecovered. With her eyes closed, it was complete, blissfull darkness.Then something moved her hands out of the way and into her ears, andmusic started playing.
"Isthis the real life? Or is this just fantasy? Caught in a landslide,no escape from reality. Open your eyes, look up to the skies and see.I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy. Because I'm easy come, easygo. Little high, little low. Anyway the wind blows, doesn't reallymatter to me, to me."
Sheknew those lyrics. She knew this song. But it was different. Adifferent voice, and the tune was just so slightly off. But shefocused on the music, and breathed deeply. There was a differentsmell than the slight stink of the hideout. It was sharp, almostminty. She didn't know what it was.
Aftershe felt she was comfortable enough, she opened her eyes, andrealized there was some sort of fuzzy fabric over them. She also feltearbuds in her ears, which she pulled out. Then the fabric waslifted, and she was met with the most beautiful eyes she had everseen. They were strange, almost mint green. Or possibly blue. Shecouldn't even tell.
Starsdotted their face like freckles. As she looked at them, she realizedthey were actually small bits of confetti, perhaps, or maybe sequins.They were yellow, and were mixed in with actual freckles too. Theyhad messy, wavy brown hair that was shaved at the sides and long onthe top, falling over their forehead almost like bangs. They wore apale green bandana, a pastel blue tank top, a gray jacket, silverhoops in their ears, faded jeans, and pale, almost mint green shoes.
|A/N: So I was thinking of adding some romance to the story. Maybe. I still can't decide. Anyway, what do you think of Jamie? They're going to be in the story quite a lot (or so I've planned, I tend to change my mind a lot) so I hope you like them. Also I've been trying to add a bit more diversity to the story. If you want a character to be a certain gender or sexuality, please let me know! I'd love to incorporate it.|
