Chapter Text
“Thanks a lot, man.”
I sighed, taking a seat right next to Combat Knife. I rolled the bottle of my medication in my hand, the pills clattering inside.
“Yeah dude, no problem, we're friends anyway.” Combat Knife replied, putting his earbud back in.
“So.. why’d ‘ya need that stuff anyway? Is it for like … pain relief or something?”
“Yeah. Something like that,” I sighed, popping out a pill and swallowing it, taking a long sip from a can of Arizona Tea.
”Things have been rough ever since the accident,” I laughed, “hit my head and everything. . . Got in the E.R. for it.”
I didn't remember much of what happened that day. I just remembered it being a normal day out in the skatepark, I was showing off to my fam and I jumped off of a really steep ledge. Then the concrete was closing in on me all too quickly.
Combat Knife nodded solemnly, “I can only imagine. You going back to skateboardin’ after ya get better?”
“Im not sure. It’s kinda scarin’ me. The thought of it. Bangin’ myself up that bad in the skatepark…” I said, taking an apprehensive look at my skateboard that was propped up on the wall, “I’ll tell ‘ya when I decide.”
“Alright then. I won’t rush ‘ya.” Combat Knife replied. He then got up, leaving with a casual goodbye.
Combat Knife was never one to linger in places for too long, being involved with gangs did that to a ‘phernal. To me, he was a good guy, but not someone I really knew. Our interactions had always been brief and casual, mostly just questions about my wellbeing.
I had decided that I should also get going, the sun was starting to set and it wasn't a good idea to stay out for too long. Crossroads was a huge city: a city of violence. It was mostly run by the rich and those who came here to escape their pasts, who usually turned to crime to get money. I was also a part of all of this, running away from my previous life in the Craterdust; I was tired of the place’s recklessness. I was lucky though, my buddy, Slingshot, was able to secure us a job in his cafe. He was an absolute perfectionist, and sometimes he'd scold me for being out so late at night, doing what The Swords know what. I didn't have the heart to tell him that I'd hang around guys like Combat Knife.
I got up, stretching my arms a bit. I took a look at the pill bottle before stuffing it into my backpack. I then walked over to my board, de-summoning the gear, I didn’t want to skate that day. Maybe walking would be better, I thought, it helps clear up your mind, right?
I walked through the city, wrinkling my nose at the strong smell of tobacco, avoiding eye contact with some of the sketchier demons. Most of the inphernals involved in that stuff were bad news, rarely were there cases like Combat Knife. I heard stories from my friends, tales of how clueless inphernals would get jumped, their faces beaten black and blue.
The sky was growing darker, and the sun's reign would be over soon. I think that Vinestaff would’ve loved it. She was always one for nature, always saying stuff about how we should start up gardening, though I think the only one who really listened to her was her brother, Shuriken.
Shuriken was an interesting dude. I honestly didn’t talk to him much. From what Slingshot has told me, he seemed to be a bit of a laze. He didn’t seem to get much sleep from his eyebags and his frequent yawning, but when he wasn’t sleepy, he could be very rambunctious and would pickpocket for fun.
Shuriken came from the Darkage Clan with his sister Vinestaff. I heard that place was very… traditional in its ways. It was the place where assassins and inphernals who planned organized crimes would go. It wasn’t just petty crimes either, it was like, actual crime; the stuff you’d get sentenced for life doing.
Shuriken was a big family man, caring about others around him, but especially, his sister, Vinestaff. The two always got into shenanigans. I felt bad for him, his sister’s condition had been getting worse lately.
When I got back to the apartment, I was greeted by the sounds of a party and the all so familiar apartment that I called home. I saw my bro, Boombox, arguing with Coil over the phone about the best music genre. Boombox was an amazing DJ. He was pretty popular in our hometown, Craterdust, but still quite underground in Crossroads.
Boombox was a nice guy, he always liked to party and seemed like he was always high on just life itself. He was an outgoing inphernal who seemed to be cracking a joke every second. He’d dress like he just walked out of a rave, wearing a multitude of colorful bracelets that went up to his elbows and colorful tees and wide, flashy pants, which he ‘thrifted.’
Coil, however, was a tough ‘phernal. Stealing, fighting, you name it. His name was big in illegal, underground fighting rings because of the amount of times he won—and never lost. He was always bitter and angry, barking up any tree he wanted to, like a lost wolf who only knew the violence of its pack. I was only friends with him because of Boombox, but I never talked to him much, not as a friend, no.
I heard from Boom that Coil also came from Craterdust, like us, but he left for some reason, one that I don't know. It never made sense to me why he decided to leave the place, it seemed to be the perfect place for a fighter like him. Maybe he was tired of seeing all of the same faces, or maybe he just didn't have a choice, whichever one it was, I didn’t want to get involved with any of it.
“Guys, Skate’s here!” Boombox exclaimed, walking over to me and putting his arm around my shoulder, leading me into the apartment. There was a loud, afternoon party going on inside. Pillows were thrown from the couch and placed all the way across the room, and some had thrown off their shirts and left them on the ground, partying like animals. Someone had also brought a large cooler of drinks, ranging from cheap booze to Monster Energy. Boombox was absolutely blasting some of his beats, the whole room alive and just bursting with energy from his music.
In the corner of my eyes, I saw Shuriken and his sister talking to each other. Shuriken looked pissed.
“Is Vinestaff alright?” I asked, because man, did that argument look bad.
“I’m sure she’s fine, Skate. Y’know her and Shuriken, they always get into arguments.”
“But her condition—”
“Dude,” Boombox interrupted, "stop overthinking it and just try to have a good time, alright?”
“I’ll try. No promises, man,” I said, letting him guide me to the couch.
The sky went from a violent orange to a misty, light-filled nighttime. I got up and walked to the balcony, taking it all in. No one really told me about how pretty the city was at night. Even though the air was so polluted from the multitude of light, the moon shone a brilliant white, and it was shaped like a crescent. I'm sure either Coil or Boombox would've been on my tail for sightseeing. They'd probably say stuff like "dang, Skate! You're finally standing still for once?!" or "Is this our actual Skateboard, or am I just dreaming?" It was something they always joked about. I'd never be able to stand still, always having to be doing something or else I'd get bored.
“The sky’s pretty, isn’t it?” Vinestaff chuckled, bringing me back to reality.
”Yeah. It sure is,” I sheepishly replied before scratching the back of my head in confusion, “was it always this beautiful at night?” I asked, turning to face her.
She wore her usual clothes—a pink kimono which was decorated with flower patterns. It was something originating from some area in the Thieves’ Den–and then I saw it. Her whole left arm was covered in bark. Her condition, no, mutation, had spread from her forearm all the way to her shoulder, probably making her movements stiff in that arm. Maybe that's why she was arguing with Shuriken.
Vinestaff was always a bit odd to me. Slingshot would always tell me to lay off her about her social skills but it was so difficult when she was as eager as a newspawn, but would stand awkwardly to the side like a tree. I would’ve just told her to ask whatever weird question was on her mind, or just tell her to just say what she thought, but Shuriken and Slingshot would’ve killed me for it. Shuriken would tell me not to because he wanted her to learn the social part of life by herself and at her own pace, and Slingshot thought that if I told her about it I’d be “rubbing it in her face.”
“I think it always was, but no one these days stops to smell the flowers anymore.” Vinestaff said, walking beside me and looking at the sky.
“Whatd’ya mean by that? Stop to smell the flowers? There are none,” I said. Metaphors–whatever you call it–had always confused me.
“It’s a saying that talks about how we often don’t enjoy or appreciate things as… trivial as flowers, and in this instance, it’s the night sky,” She mused, leaning against the rail.
That made more sense. Everybody in Crossroads seemed to move from one thing to another, never stopping to look back. Not once had I ever thought about the night sky and the moon and all of that stuff. I usually just thought that my shift was over when I saw the moon. I never really took time to look at it. I don't know many who even would look at it, let alone think about it. Lots of 'phenals nowadays are always on their phones (not like I can blame them), or out with friends, or at work filling out some meaningless report like their life depended on it. The Inpherno seemed to move way too fast for anybody to comprehend it all in time.
“You look like you just had an epiphany,” she chuckled, "Did my metaphor really hit that much?"
“I guess. I’m not good at metaphors… way too confusing for me.” I chuckled.
“Really? You looked like you understood that quite well … maybe you're not as confused as you think,” She said sweetly, patting my back awkwardly. She looked quite conflicted; like she wanted to stay something but couldn't get the words out.
"If you want to say something, say it!" I said, "It's better to just say it, y'know!"
Vinestaff blinked, probably out of surprise. "Was it that obvious..? Well . . . are you okay?”
Now it was my turn to blink, "huh?? Whatd'ya mean by that?" I asked, cocking an eyebrow. "You were... uh, in the hospital for a while," She mumbled, looking away.
“Oh, uh, I’m fine. I just got into a skateboardin’ accident, no need to worry!"
“I’m just concerned–" Vinestaff got interrupted by Slingshot yelling, “Skate, Vine! Get in here, we gotta talk!”
“After I'm done talking to Skateboard, right?” Vinestaff hollered back, to which Slingshot denied, insisting for us to get inside. “What's that all about..?” Vinestaff mumbled, glaring at the sliding door apprehensively.
“C’mon. Let's just go.” I sighed, bringing an arm over her shoulder and walking her with me, “maybe it's important.”