I promise, I'm a MONSTER /XANDER

[ANGEL DIHANIE]

outfit:: my little buglet.

She had planned on going to Arizona. There was no particular reason behind it, it just seemed like an obscure place. Maybe she'd stop off in Navada, and just make her nest there. Maybe she just wanted a piece of that innocence she once had, when she and Wes talked about how some day they'd be neighbors in the American south west. Near Mexico, a drive from the ocean. California felt to close to their oppressive parents, the sunny skies clouded by their judging faces. So, she had bought the ticket, a long month before. But she hadn't... She hadn't been able to get on the bus. She hadn't even been able to leave New York City.

It was too far away from him.

Not that she ever saw him anymore. The sacrifice was painful, physically painful, sending her into panicking dry heaves and sobs. Dear Lord, she missed him. Her beautiful friend. Her first love. Ugh, she sounded like a bad novel written by an idealistic Mormon who believes vampires sparkle- what with the pining and the self sacrifice, the weakness and dependence. Though, to Angel's benefit, they did have sex. Somehow that made the pining feel better, when she was in well enough humour to look at her situation and laugh. Sometimes that was all she could do.

Sleeping on a bench for the past month, crying whenever she found herself in a gas station bathroom, her health had declined. Despite the mild weather of spring, Angel Dihanie shivered and sniffled. With a straw, she drank the bitter dayquil, and with the two dollars she found, she purchased a dirty water hotdog. AH, a feast. With a cough, she began her breakfast/lunch/dinner for the day. Maybe days. Her bronze skin had lost it's dusty glow, and instead took on a pallid look. Dark shadows housed themselves under her eyes, and her hair was scraggled under her red beanie. She was- as was customary to the locale homeless- dirty. Even the penguin on her shirt had a yellowing tinge of dirt on his once snowy belly.

And, what of Boogie? Oh, she felt the little beast pace in the back of her mind. Generally, she avoided people, so as to not tempt the critter. Any bump, any fright. BOOM! She awoke with bloody knuckles, hiding on a roof. Once, she even had the taste of bloody in her mouth, and her clothes were torn. Try as she might, she couldn't remember. Perhaps that was a blessing...

Picking out bits of onion from her savory course, from this fine example of New York cuisine- fine as there was no animal trying to house in it's bun- she thought about what her friends were doing. Usually, she tried not to think on it, but perhaps watching the skaters in the rink put her in a nostalgic mood. They had had good times. Those times should be treasured, should be held close and dear. Because they were over. No, no, Angel, think in good cheer. Try and think of something to bring a smile to your face, before this depression consumed all that was left. Was Ripley causing hell? Of course she was, because that was her way. Was Xander being a snarky imp? A little quiver of a grin appeared at the thought of him calling some dashing football player a twat for denying being a homo sapien.

And Wes... what of her Jack? Does he sing still?

[XANDER SYKES]

"Where do bad folks go when they die?
They don't go to heaven where the angels fly.
They go to a lake of fire and fry,
Won't see 'em again 'till the Fourth of July."

Everything had changed, and even Xander Sykes, a boy known for his love of spontaneous change, hated it. His relatively new group of friends was apparently on hiatus, with the disappearance of Angel Dihanie and the comatose state of Weston Broderick. He and Tramp were okay, all official and shit, but it was a bit awkward for him and he always thought back to her laughter and cringed. That was the only time in Xander's life that he felt embarrassed, except for maybe when Wes found his chemistry set. But that wasn't nearly as bad. Nahnie had started pre-kindergarten so he didn't have to watch her all the time, just report to the school whenever the bitch teacher complained about her behavior since his rich parents were too busy doing whatever the fuck they were always too busy doing to care. He honestly kind of missed spending time with his sister, but he picked her up and talked to her about her adventures at Pre-K. Apparently, she had already dated and dumped most of the boys in her class and bullyed some crayons out of the girls and mouthed off to the teacher. Xander didn't expect any different, so he just listened and smiled and sometimes laughed because his sister was a funny kid.

"I knew a lady who came from Duluth,
She got bit by a dog with a rabid tooth.
She went to her grave just a little too soon,
And she flew away howling on the yellow moon."

This particular spring day, he was sitting in his room, bored. He had beaten all of his games already (mostly with the help of Andie Read, not that he would ever admit that to anyone ever), and was getting tired of Modern Warfare. Wes was still moping about, hardly moving, though it was a bit better after Tramp talked to him, and Xander had quit trying to talk to him. Not that he didn't mind the sound of his own voice, but dialogue was nice sometimes. As annoyed as he was on the outside, he was actually kind of sad on the inside, too. Not only did he lose Angel, but also Wes. It made him realize how much he really fucking cared for them, and it sucked.

"Where do bad folks go when they die?
They don't go to heaven where the angels fly.
They go to a lake of fire and fry,
Won't see 'em again 'till the Fourth of July."

He really couldn't stand this.

And by 'this', he probably meant the whole goddamn situation, but right at that point, he couldn't just sit around and watch his bro kill himself over one of his best friends. Xander also hated being ignored, so he really had nothing to say as he threw on some clothes (this was only the second time he had changed today, that habit was honestly getting better), and left the dorm and Baum in general. Hood up and headphones in, he hoped no one would try to talk to him. If they did, he ignored them, because he really just needed to take a walk or something. Just to get away for a while, and maybe he could pretend it would all be better once he got back.

Yeah, no, this wasn't the fucking Wizard of Oz. He wouldn't wake up and have everything be back to normal again, and besides, Oz was a lot cooler than Kansas, so this was the opposite. Maybe he'd be whisked away by some random tornado. Unlikely, but it was nice to think of the rush that would probably give him.

"Now the people cry and the people moan,
And the look for a dry place to call their home,
And try to find some place to rest their bones,
While the angels and the devils try to make them their own."

He blared that song, "Lake of Fire", the Nirvana cover that he liked a lot better, and used the about forty dollars of random cash and change he had stuffed in his pockets and took a bus to Central Park. It was terribly cliche, but a walk in the park would clear his head, right? Get his mind off of all this shit that was going on. Or rather, not going on, as really nothing interesting happened anymore without his friends.

He was a bit hungry, so he decided to get something to eat that wasn't from the hot dog stands he was walking by. Xander didn't really like hot dogs, though he'd eat one if some hippy like his aunt started complaining about them to him. Then he'd shove one in his face just to be difficult, as per usual.

"Where do bad folks go when they die?
They don't go to heaven where the angels fly.
They go to a lake of fire and fry,
Won't see 'em again 'till-"

Wait. Was that?

He looked over again at the obviously homeless girl sitting with a hot dog and some Dayquil and took his headphones out of his ears. It couldn't be her, of course, because that would be ridiculously good luck, wouldn't it? Even if she was dirty and looked sick- it was her. It couldn't not be Angel Dihanie.

Remembering that he was Irish, he thanked whatever God for this fortune and walked over to her, prepared to confront her and ask her why the hell she had left. But when he reached her, he, for once in his life, was at a loss of words. He looked like an idiot, more than he already did at a constant rate, with his mouth open and his eyes literally on he brink of tears. What the fuck, was he going to cry? No, he didn't cry, he didn't get upset, but he realized they were probably somewhat happy tears. Still, he didn't to that shit, and he was Xander Sykes, or just Sykes as the girl before him used to call him (she had inspired his most common screenname, sykedout), so he had to crack some sort of joke, right? Or something.

"Jesus fucking Christ, you look like hell." Not even realizing that was probably offensive (because everything Xander said was offensive to someone, he had enough bloody noses to realize that much), he shook his head and frowned. He had to say something nicer, right? "I don't think that's a healthy lunch ya' got there. Do you know what they put in those things?" he asked pointing to the hot dog. Now he sounded like his aunt, fuck. "Here, let me buy you something better. And an actual something-to-drink, or whatever, because that shit looks disgusting." There, he came off easy, right? He imagined if one Ripley Gwynn would have found her, he would have heard her screaming all the way from back at Baum.

{outfit}
{song}

[ANGEL DIHANIE]

outfit:: my little buglet.

Xander Sykes had sat next to her. Xander Sykes had said words to her. She was found, she was caught. Part of her wanted to pretend she didn't know who he was. Just keeping on her merry way. But she didn't have the strength. She was too sick, too tired, too sore. But to engage in conversation might inspire awkward conversation. A conflicting feeling of wanting to know and not wanting to know the status of her friends and Wes was churning in her gut like over spun ice cream. He started offering to buy her something else, and Angel started to shake her head. "I'm fine..." Her voice rasped in discomfort, not sounding fine, but tinged with her resolute stubbornness. "I need to drink it anyway."

Not a creature of foresight, Angel hadn't planned for the moment she actually ran into someone from school. Which, as she stewed in the clear as day hindsight, was more than a little freaking stupid. Her friends were renown for skipping class and wandering the streets of New York. Especially Central Park. More than once she had mosied on past Wes's favourite spot to play guitar in the park. Right on a crumbling wall. She was certain there was something quite poetic about it, and that's why he was so keen on it, but Angel had never had a mastery of subtext.

Looking at Sykes- she could never really call him Xander, as he shared the same name as her Dad- kind of hurt her. Not because of anything that he was doing really, but more the memories he was bringing back that she really didn't want to think about. She had made a choice. It might not be a popular choice, but no one else was going to make it for her. Wes wasn't going to say she was too dangerous, Ripley and Sykes would probably just pretend nothing was going on. She didn't need feigned ignorance, she needed to get this under control. Obviously that wasn't going to happen when the freaky little monster thing in her head wanted to strangle and flay her best friend of fiveever, thanks. Her reasoning was sound, dangit.

"I'm not going back. If that's what you're warming up to say, Sykes. I want to go back, but I can't. It's not safe. And I don't want to hear about anybody missing me, or not missing me, or anything else. It's not safe, and I'm fine out-" As if on quie- which it most certainly wasn't, increasing her dismay in the achey and shakey, cold induced, time- she started to let loose a hacking cough. It ached her throat, which felt lined with sand paper, and a few tears peaked form the corners of her once lively brown eyes. But Angel forced it under control, clearing her throat with only a slight flinch. "I'm fine out here."

[XANDER SYKES]

Angel honestly looked... shocked. Like she never expected to see him again. Xander knew she was going to be gone for a while - and the was Wes acted, it may as well have been forever - but he didn't expect her to want to live on the streets permanently. He figured she'd come back once she got over whatever it was she needed to get over, and everything would go back to the way it should have been, the way it was.

But Angel either wasn't ready the moment he sat down, or she was never going to be ready, and Xander realized that maybe this was a bigger deal than he thought.

"Suit yourself," he said with a shrug, and put his wallet back in his pocket. He felt her eyes on him, but he only glanced at her once and slouched in his spot, elbows bent, hands folded together, looking around the space in front of him. There were happy couples going on walks and holding hands and laughing. There was a dog running around with a leash trailing behind him, the owner chasing after him with no avail. There were parents watching their kids play around in the grass, telling them to keep their jackets on, it's chilly. And if he peered far enough into the trees, he might have been able to see the spot where he awkwardly told Ripley Gwynn that he loved her, and became aware that that really was not how they should operate.

All of these things ran through his mind in the seconds where Angel was trying to respond, and they honestly wer misfits in this situation. A dumbass stoner and his best friend the runaway. The mood between them didn't fit the positive tones surrounding them. It almost hurt then he realized how much he didn't belong in society, but he got ov er it before it started.

He looked right at Angel when she spoke, taking in every word, and that cough that totally proved she was fine. Xander reacted completely appropriately, of course. He smiled and laughed a little. "I wasn't going to ask you on the spot to come back. Even I'm not stupid enough to think that we'd have some sort of Lifetime moment where you'd realize what you left and come back in happy tears. I know you, remember? Stubborn as mule from hell." He looked again at all of the other people and shook his head. "But as soon as you're ready to realize that that 'I'm fine' stuff is bull, I'll hear it." He sighed, the smile fading. "Truth is, we do miss you, Angel. All of us. Especially... well, you know." He wasn't sure she wanted to hear his name. "He's been laying in his bed since you left, basically. Barely moving. You know, I have to check every morning to see if he's still breathing?" Not helping. "Ripley got him to take a shower and move a little bit, but still... I'm not trying to make you feel bad, I just..." Xander blinked away tears, definitely not looking at Angel. "Look, I get that you have some personal demon or whatever the fuck, but we're just worried about you. I guess. I was happy to see you're still alive, but I don't think anyone would want to know that you're sick. And I won't tell them, I'm not some stupid gossip girl."

He needed to stop talking, Jesus. "The point is, I understand if you don't want to come back, but at least take care of yourself out here. Let me get you a motel room, or something with heat. You know how fast this could turn into pnuemonia or some shit?" Xander paused, realizing what he sounded like. "I don't know either, but trust me. It's serious." Was he still talking? And he wasn't even finished. "There's like a guest suite in my parent's apartment that's gathering dust, if you want to stay there. We don't even have housekeepers anymore since they were all bitches and I'm basically taking care of Nahnie. If you don't want to come back to Baum, at least stay there at night. Please." Xander Sykes begging for something was not common, and certainly not for nothing.

[/justify]

{i've made myself sad}