House Warming - Solo

Subject: House Warming - Solo Tue Nov 16, 2010 1:29 am

The sky becomes burnt with hues of dark red, oranges and purple over the city. I find myself casting a shadow into the dark insides of my new abode standing in the door way. The keys jingle lightly in my hand as I pull it from the door’s knob and place it into my pocket. A few steps are taken into the interior of the abode.

I was in a transition phase between my apartment and the new settings of this large two-story house. For someone who had a lot of money to spend, I found a place where much of it seemed to be invested to overnight. The house would have the bare minimums in it, since I hadn’t gotten over to decorating. I wouldn’t be bringing my things from the apartment in Gothstone, since I would be keeping that place as well. New stuff would eventually come to fill the large open spaces that seemed only to consist of soft light wooden floors for the time being. As for necessities, I had a bed and a table in here thus far, along with the amenities that came with the house, such as the heavy kitchen appliances and a black rectangular dinner table.

The large dark wooden door closes behind me; the large contemporary and modern panels of windows that make up much of the rear wall allow the dim tinted light from the skies to elongate along the floor. As if stepping out from me, Damon, the dragon spirit that lived within my body, takes a few steps forwards with his arms folded and long silver hair pouring down his back almost in a tail fashion. With a nod, he comments, “I think I will like this place.” I murmur lightly, “it’s not for you…” I keep my words at that, not about to argue with a spirit. He turns back and cuts his eyes in a glance to me before looking back out towards the house and walking further into it. With a sigh, I ignore him and take the opposite direction to head into the kitchen.

The house was large and empty; exactly what I thought it would be. It didn’t really bother me much, since I wasn’t the type of person that was always in the company of others. It was true that when I was with Shiori, I had grown accustomed to her presence, but when things changed back, I had to adapt accordingly.

Coming into the kitchen I, my hand runs along the marble countertop that spanned the room and held the sink and dish washer. My gaze shifts to the refrigerator, something probably empty seeing as I had not placed any food into it yet. I pause for that moment and turn, leaning my back against the counter folding my arms at my chest. I give a sigh and look straight, not to anything in particular.

Thinking over things, I realized that I had accomplished a lot so far. At the age of 28, I seemed to have reached a peak in my career; I had a good job, two cars, and a house. Still, it was as if I were almost at the next stage in my life. I should probably be there, but there were things that held me back; I wasn’t at the point where I considered myself a real adult, yet I was far from adolescent. As the cards of my life would play out, I didn’t have the family to share with the things that I had. I knew this was subconsciously affecting my relationship with Izumi. In looking for the house, I realized that I might be pushing her too far too fast. With her career and such, a domestic life and even kids seemed like something very distant and far away. Living with one another seemed a stretch at this point since we were, in fact, dating. What I thought in hindsight had felt so natural with Shiori seemed trying with Izumi, as if I were attempting to force something along instead of waiting patiently for it to occur on its own.

“Tsk,” I murmur lightly as I shake my head and press off of the counter, “you’re thinking like an old man…”

Damon rounds the corner, coming into the room as he comments, “well, you’re not getting any younger. You’ll be thirty soon.” I cut a dirty look to him in the dimness of the kitchen. He shrugs, “it’s the truth. How old was your father when he married your mother?” My gaze cuts to the side and looks down as I ignore the question. Damon comments, “how about we relax over some tea?” My gaze shifts back up and to the dragon; I knew he was attempting to be social, and with his attitude much like mine, it would be worst than a gut shot to turn him down. With a shrug, I comment, “sure.” My keys jingle in my hands as I move towards the door and comment, “but I can’t drink imaginary tea, so I’m going to the store to get something for me.” Damon moves to follow as he contests, “it’s not imaginary, you merely need a spiritual form to enjoy it.” I continue as I reach the door, “it’s bottomless; there’s no telling where your tea is from… you could recycle it for all I know.” The door opens and I walk out, allowing it to close after me with Damon following. His form fades as I get to the door of the black luxury sedan and open it to get in. I figured there had to be a store somewhere where I could get something to drink, but for tonight, I felt like drinking alcohol instead of tea. Since it was me in a huge house talking to myself, or rather the spirits within me, it should be a safe enough choice. With that, my rear finds the seat of the car, the door closes, and the car starts.

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Subject: Re: House Warming - Solo Thu Nov 18, 2010 9:07 pm

Oddly enough, I didn’t have to leave the nice side of town in order to find a bottle of something good to drink. The store where I was able to purchase the alcohol seemed more like a winery than a liquor store, but the owner there had offered me a bottle of what he referred to as the good stuff after first understanding that I didn’t know the difference between scotch and gin. Overall, it was a bit of a culture shock to what I was used to from the Lower Commons and Gothstone, but it seemed very clean and nice with a very different demographic as the shoppers.

By the time I arrive home, the sun had fallen fully and darkness settled in the night skies. After a brief drive, the headlights from the car would illuminate the streets and area ahead with the house coming up and into view.

Gates set back some distance in front of my house smoothly slides open to the right with the press of a button on a keypad which was now connected to my keychain. The black sedan on chrome rims pulls through the gate and past it. The gates close behind the onyx vehicle. Parking in front, the car comes to rest about ten feet from the overhang and the front door. Shadows are drawn across the concrete of my porch with the exterior door light illuminated. The driver side door opens and I step out. Standing up, I close the driver side door behind me and walk around to the passenger side door. Opening the door, I reach in and pick up a medium sized brown paper bag by dual arched thick twine handles. The name of the store was on the bag, it being an item that itself seemed to cost about five dollars. Of course, the liquor would be encased inside of the bag; it was the type of bag with a solid bottom so that the bag would not lose its shape when being held.

There is a shutting sound as the passenger door closes and I make my way towards the front door. The bag is held in my left hand as my right hand holds the keys that would be brought to the door and used to open it. After stepping into the door, Damon would shift out from my body and move into the interior of the room. Along with him, the Earth golem Domo-chan look alike would depart from my body and walk inside. Pausing for a moment, I murmur, “… they’re multiplying.” That much was fine, however, since I only had two spirits housed within my body that I knew of. I take off my shoes at the door, leaving me in my black socks. Damon speaks up, his voice echoing form the other room as he comments, “I’ll prepare a place to sit.” I pondered on just how he was going to do something like that, being a spirit and all, but I shrug it off and simply follow where the voice was coming from in the other room.

Coming into the next room, I pause for a moment and look down with a bit of an eye twitch as I see that Damon was sitting on his knees in the middle of the floor of my living room. The earth golem would be sitting as well, to the dragonic male’s side, its legs not the type that could cross or bend for sitting, so they were straight forward. A bottle of sake sat upon a tray in front of Damon, assumedly for Damon and the golem; the silver haired dragon comments, “I have secured a spot.” Another eye twitch comes as I note the vastness of the living room area with a thought process along the lines of a sarcastic ‘yeah right… good job.’ With a sigh, I walk up to the group while sitting my bag to the side and pulling off my coat leaving me in my black slacks and black skirt. I fold the coat up and sit cross legged on the floor to complete the small circle. My body rocks forward and then back as I settle into my seat and then reach for the bag to my side. The silver haired spirit was already pouring a saucer of sake with the large rectangular earth golem. As I pull out my bottle of alcohol, I shake my head and comment, “Sanzon would probably have a good laugh if he were able to see this.” Damon speaks candidly, “you’re lonely, so it’s only natural that you have imaginary friends.” A frown graces my lips as I hold the bottle with my left hand and twist the top with my right. “… You’re not entirely imaginary,” I declare with a bit of a strain at the end. Damon looks up to notice me unable to get the top off of the bottle. He comments, “I don’t think you’re doing it right.” I ignore him, frowning and looking down at the bottle realizing that I may need to remove the foil from the top first before it would come off. The dragon speaks again as he comments, “there was a tool the merchant put inside of the bag…” I attempt to ignore the suggestion for a moment before I look in the bag and see a bottle opener. The obligatory, “told you,” comes from the dragon as I feign ignoring him and proceed in the process of opening the bottle; I at least knew the basic mechanics of a bottle opener. After getting the bottle open, I would look up to notice the other two had waited for me before drinking; that much was polite of them. The earth golem holds up his saucer as does Damon. I tip with them before they bring their saucers to their lips. Damon speaks, “to our host and his unsettling mental confusion.” They drink; there’s a slight frown from me, but I bring the lip of the bottle to my mouth. Swig one.

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Subject: Re: House Warming - Solo Fri Nov 19, 2010 9:43 pm

Not really sure how things had come to this, I find myself surrounded in familiar company, or more accurately ghosts from the past. Luckily, it wasn’t in a scary way, but more like a nostalgic way and seemingly very rowdy.

The upright bottle of cognac that sat to the side of my body, held protectively by the neck within the grasp of my right hand, was still over half full, but me being the light weight that I was, it didn’t require much to get in a good mood. In attendance, of course, there was the dragonic male, named Damon who sat on his knees in my presence, a spirit from within my body, along with his spiritual roommate, the earth golem and Domokun look a-like whose name we did not know, nor actually need. In addition to those two spirits, there seemed to be the life like specter of a worn black leather couch that had manifested itself within the spacious empty living room, near our circle of sitting, along with a trio of urban males comfortably sitting upon it. In a pair of baggy black stone washed jeans and a red shirt with a silver chain looping from his neck, Tre leans back in the center of the couch with one arm along the back and the other holding a bottle wrapped in a small brown paper bag. He seems to be laying back and listening to the others with the bulk of the volume coming from a larger male in dreadlocks holding a smoke-trailing blunt loosely between his index and middle finger with his thumb flicking the rear butt portion of it lightly; he wore a pair of baggy dark blue jeans with an oversized knit long sleeve shirt.

“See, what you need to do,” he says, pointing the two fingers and the horizontal blunt towards me as he leans forwards sitting on the arm of the black leather couch, “is go up in Shiori’s house… pin her down… and beat it down one good time!” With my drunken focus on the blunt and the ashes that fell from it every so often, I warn off handedly, “I’ll get shot or sliced… hey… it’s getting ash on the floor…” Of course, it would be invisible ash that wouldn’t actually be on the floor, as it was as spiritual as the specters sitting about me. Lil Knock leans back as he concludes as if having said something deep with a slow nod, “then she’ll take you back… -and- break you off a couple grand!” Totally aloof to his words, I wave my hand as if trying to blow away the ashes from the blunt from my sitting distance of about five feet away with my full focus on it. I hiccup. Damon speaks up, “I believe that is called rape.” Jr, a slender male housed in a smaller frame wearing an oversized pair of black khaki suit, pants and belt at hip level, with a matching hat slightly cocked up and to the side makes the comment, “but I’m saying though, you see Izumi’s new body? You already know. And she broke Ghost off when she got back. That shit was like watching a porno. You see that money shot with the Lil Homie?” By this time, my hand had absentmindedly left my bottle and I was leaning forwards, stumbling into a crouched position as I attempt to sweep up the ashes from Lil Knock’s blunt into an organized pile; my OCD was going into overdrive even when drunk. “It’s going to get into the creases of the wood…” Knock tilts his head with a sarcastic face, looking at Jr., twisting his lips before he says, “…so I -know- you’re now trying to tell me…” Jr. interrupts him asking, “I’m saying, though… you gonna pass that, or just hold it there?” Knock brings the blunt to his lips, “mmh”, pulling in a drag. He leans over towards Jr. as he passes it to him over Tre’s lap as he releases a stream of smoke and says with a slight cough, “… you’re saying that Izumi could beat Shiori in the bedroom? Man, come on. -That- chick ain’t got the stripes! Shiori’s got mad experience. She’s like a soldier that’s been through ten wars, B. That’s all I’m sayin…” Another hiccup comes from me as I tilt my head to look at the pile I was making at floor level. With his eyes on me, Damon slowly pulls the tray of sake to my side away from me and towards him as if to prevent me from knocking it over. The large earth Domokun simply sits there with its mouth open, as it often was when idle, and seemingly says something, though nothing is audible to me. Still, everyone except me seemed to stop and look to him in a paused moment before Knock points and yells, “see… -that’s- what I’m talking about, he gets it!” I blink as I look to the earth golem and murmur, “but he didn’t say anything…” Ignoring me, Jr. responds to Knock, “man… what even is he? He’s like a big ass Brick of dirt, he’s not even humanoid! What he know…” Looking to the Domokun, he asks, “yo, Dirt Rock… you even -got- a penis, B?” With that question, something very… very disturbing happens as he answers, and in fact seemed to have one. It was stone, gritty and a few feet long. With its unveiling, Knock frowns, “that just ain’t right.” Damon turns his head to the side. Tre shakes his head and Jr. pauses with the blunt in his hands as he speaks, “okay, sir… you can put that away now…” My mouth was partially agape as I was both confused and mesmerized, asking, “what’s that?” as I had traveled back out of the loop in that short amount of time. The light that was emanating from it fades as Domokun puts it away. In the wake of the traumatic experience, Knock breaks the awkwardness as he speaks up to Jr. “yo, pass that, son.” Jr. takes another pull on it and in looking to me, he says, “yo, stop crawlin on the floor, Ghost. You ain’t even high. Yo, let me holla at that Henny you got.” He exhales the smoke and then he and knock perform the trade once again, leaning over Tre to pass the blunt. “No…” I contest in a voice of weak consistency, reaching for the bottle, but missing it, “it’s mine…” Knock teases, “what you know about that Yak?” before taking another hit. My gaze is one of confusion as I look at my empty right palm trying to figure out where my alcohol had gone. Attention is diverted from me again as Jr. looks to Damon and tries him instead saying, “fuck it, I couldn’t drink it anyway. Ayo, Drag-on. Let me get some of that ying yang juice, my good man.” Damon answers, “no.” Tre stands up and walks towards me. Leaning down, he sits down his bottle of drink and takes me by the arm and pulls me up, “come on, get up. Let’s go have a conversation…” With his help, I stumble to my feet as Damon guards his sake from my feet with a hostile glare and a “watch it….” With a pat on my back, Tre leads me away from the group and to the rear of the house. Jr. retorts to Damon, “I’m saying. I’m not trying to drink it all, just pour me up a plate…”

We exit the living room coming into the next room that leads out into the wrap around balcony of the house. Tre opens the door and we move outside. I feel the cool brisk air of the night against my face and body; it reminds me that I left my coat inside with the others. Looking up, mostly coherent, I see Tre learning on the raised wooden rail of the balcony, looking out into my backyard area. I take a few careful steps as I walk towards where he was, turning and resting my back against the railing with my gaze up towards the sky. “Be careful, light weight,” he comments with a grin as his head shifts to me, to see me shake my head and assure I was fine. He nods, “yeah… whatever, Ghost.” He turns his gaze back out towards the backyard as he sighs, “so, it’s been a year or so since that day…” My mind flashes back to the last grind that I performed with Tre and the two other cohorts I had, back when I was on almost the opposite side of crime as I was not. At that time, all three of them were gunned down and I was the only one that survived. My head lowers a bit as a frown graces my lips. Tre comments, “You’re keeping the whip clean though. Good looking on that; I always kept those rims shiny. I see you though… big man now, running shit in the city. That’s some good shit yo. You got a lot further than you ever would have rolling with a crew of knuckleheads. Behind a desk… running shit… fuckin your secretary… must be nice…” He grins and comments, “but you lost my damn cat… how’d -that- happen?” My face lifts at the tease as I make the excuse, “he was a traitor… he left on his own.” Tre grins, “yeah, I’d pick Shiori over you too.” His face returns to being serious as he comments, “but keep doing your thing, I guess. But, you know… this shit ain’t healthy dude… You know you’re talking to yourself right now, right?” I give a weak nod with a shrug. He reintegrates, “no, I’m serious, Ghost. If someone was looking at you right now, they’d swear you were crazy. Hell, even I think you’re crazy and I’m partially in your head.” He continues, “When you gone have some kids and have a family? You can’t be a loner all your life. That’s the shit I was trying to teach you out there with the gang…” I sigh as I turn around, facing the same direction as him as I place my hands on the railing, looking out towards the back of the house’s property. I answer, “It’s not that easy.” He retorts, “Then make it that easy. You’re the man right? The head honcho in charge? Do the shit then. You need to figure out what’s going to work out for you and stop trying to please others so much. Your job is just that… a fucking job. Don’t put that shit before your own health. Get you a bitch that’s gonna stay down for you, wife that bitch up and call it a day. Don’t end up like one of those CEO’s that gets so absorbed in their work, they kill themselves when something goes wrong. The fact that I’m worried about you should worry you.” I tilt my gaze towards him as I comment, “I can’t go crazy… all I have to do is get drunk and talk to you…” Tre chuckles, “getting toasted ain’t the answer…” Looking back towards me, he asks, “anyways… you get what I’m saying. But, don’t you have work tomorrow?” With a frown, I reply, “you’re in my head, you know I do.” Lifting from the railing he motions with a head nod and comments, “aite then… well, let’s start wrapping this party up.” He departs from the rail and walks towards the patio door, but I remain behind with my back turned to him. He pauses for a moment and turns to look at me asking, “Ghost?” My face is away from him as I look up and out across my back yard as I comment, “no… I want to stay up a bit longer with everyone…” A grin comes to Tre’s face as he shakes his head and answers, “lonely ass, spoiled ass boy… aite then. Bring your ass…” I push off of the railing and turn around, passing Tre as I head back into the house. He follows behind, closing the patio door behind us.

Coming back into the room, Jr. was playing dice against Domokun, god only knows how, and Damon was casually sipping his Tea next to the large Lil Knock who was actively describing the circumference of a stripper’s ass that he had come upon in the past while comparatively relating its shape to various fruit utilizing hand gestures for visuals. Returning to the group, Tre moves back to the couch to sit down and I stumble back to where my bottle was waiting for me. Knock looks up and notices our arrival. “Y’all just come back from makin out?” he asks. I frown as I advise, “shove it” reaching for my bottle. Damon shakes his head, “bad choice of words …” In that manner, the drinking continued with the various wise cracks and comments that were necessary. The spirits were rowdy, meaning the party was still far from over.

After the passing of about thirty minutes, the room was left quiet. Things finally calmed down considerably from the ruckus that was ongoing earlier. The spirits were gone, the expansive living room was barren save for a passed out me and a half drunken bottle of Hennessy and I was still. I was lying on my back in an outstretched position, temporarily out for the moment, but far from sober.

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Subject: Re: House Warming - Solo Sun Jan 23, 2011 5:28 pm

Sent to UYB.

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