When The World Comes Down [M/ToxiccLovee]

-Hysteria- · Subject: When The World Comes Down [M/ToxiccLovee] Sat Aug 01, 2009 8:57 pm

Electricity crackled between the metal rods, arcing across the small gap in blue, haphazard streaks. He watched from behind the glass screen, periwinkle hues disinterested, yet tinged with anxiety. The hums, clicks, whirs, and clinks of the laboratory made him nervous with the knowledge of the task ahead.
He knew they did not expect much from him, they were likely expectant of his failure, and he knew he would be met with no more than mild disappointment when he returned empty-handed. Life would go on. His brother would inherit the family business. He would go off somewhere and open a bakery or something more suited to his flighty personality.
Victor Kokoschka Frankenstein was determined not to fail. He was determined not to lose to his brother. He was determined to create the most amazing Frankenstein yet. Unfortunately, his determination faltered considerably when in the face of his squeamishness towards blood.
A frown met the youth's pale lips, as he watched the arcing electricity fade away. He tucked several strands of light, blonde-brown hair behind his ears; he couldn't stall any longer.
He stepped closer to the strange, complicated machine before him. It almost seemed like human-sized version of one of those orbs that you could touch and little bolts of electricity would be attracted to your hand, except this featured a little compartment similar to that of a microwave. He retrieved a battery pack from the oversized battery charger and proceeded out of the lab, weaving through equally ridicolously large, generally useless machines.
This was his lab; his refuge of sorts. He never really made things of value, just large toys that looked important. Regardless, he liked them, and no one came in here save for him.
Koko exited his lab, proceeding forward, right through the wall of the hallway. In the Frankenstein house, it was possible to just walk into walls and, by concentrating on where you want to go, end up in whatever room you chose. It didn't always work though. Occasionally, he would get stuck in the wall, and have to wait until night, when the system was rebooted. Or until someone found him and decided to help out. The house was big enough that the latter rarely ever happened.
He materialized out of the wall of the parking garage, proceeding past sportscarts, trucks, motorcycles, and all manner of vehicles before locating his own method of transportation.
A white Vespa scooter sat waiting for him in the far corner of the parking garage, outfitted with a duffel bag containing all he would need for his venture into the human world. With anxiety hanging on his heart and a steely determination keeping him moving, Koko started up the scooter and sped out of the parking garage; out into human world.

~---~

It had been one week, one full, seven day week, since Victor Kokoschka Frankenstein had first left the parking garage and ventured through into the human world. During that time span, he had managed to get mugged, lose most of his money, have his Vespa stolen, run from the police countless times for various offenses he had unknowingly committed, walk into a ridiculous number of walls and doors in the expectation of ending up where he wanted to be, hid in at least five dumpsters for various reasons, and collect absolutely no body parts.
Even his determination had not prepared him for the moment when, having found, lured, and chloroflormed a suitable 'donor' at a reclusive location, he had to actually remove the desired body part. He didn't even touch the scalpel to the skin of the human before a profound sense of sympathy and guilt hit him like a tidal wave. He dragged the body back to a more public area where it would be found more quickly before hightailing it out of there. Since then, he hadn't even been able to bring himself to try to lure anyone else away.
His time limit was up now. He had to return home by morning. He was relieved to be leaving the human city, with it's strange cultures and foods, for the safe refuge of his home, however he wasn't looking forward to the disappointment awaiting him there.
Feeling thoroughly defeated, Koko rested his head against the back of the bus stop bench, staring up at the broad, starless night sky above. His breath formed little clouds in the cold, winter air, while a light covering of snow turned the ground white around him. He didn't like this 'winter' phenomenon much either. Snow was cold, and, as he had learned, staying in it for too long could be painful.
The sound of an approaching vehicle caught his attention; his gaze lowered back down to the icy street. A taxi pulled up to the curb in front of him, the drunken driver climbing out and stumbling past him. The glint of metal amidst the snow caught the youth's attention next.
He stood from his seat on the bench to investigate, only to find the keys of the taxi laying in the snow. He retrieved them and turned around to call out to the drunk man. He was met by the muzzle of a pistol instead. He didn't know much about the human culture, but he knew weapons when he saw them.
"Get in the car, an' hurry it up taximan! No time to laze about!" The holder of the gun spoke hurriedly, yet an Irish accent was clear in his voice. The man was wearing dark clothes, but strands of fiery red locks escaped his hood, and no sunglasses could hide the man's piercing, emerald green eyes, oddly cheery in spite of the circumstances.
Koko tried to object, backing up until he felt the taxi behind him. "B-but-"
The Irish man waved the gun about threateningly. "C'mon, hurry, hurry! I'll shoot you right here if I 'ave to boy, you can always drive with one arm!"
He paled, and in spite of the fact he knew he couldn't drive and would only incur the wrath of this strange man, unlocking the door of the taxi and climbed into the driver's seat. The man climbed into the passenger's seat behind him, pistol still focused on the youth's head.
With a bit of difficulty, Koko managed to get the key in the ignition and start the car, however as soon as his foot hit the gas, the car lurched forward dangerously, tires screeching on the pavement.
The Irish man chuckled. "Now you're catchin' on boy! Drive fast and don't stop for nobody!"
His panic rose as the car accelerated, faintly aware of his hands aching a bit from their death grip on the steering wheel. The taxi weaved back and forth on the street, taking out any unsuspecting signs or pilons in it's path.
"Turn! Turn 'ere!"
Koko wrenched the steering wheel to the side, rewarded with another screeching of tires and a turn so sharp it drove them onto the sidewalk. Obstacles went flying, bouncing off the roof and windshield with dull thuds. At one point, something hard hit the windshield, sending a spider web of cracks across the entire surface.
Immediately, his foot flew off the gas, and while trying to find it again, accidently hit the brake instead. The vehicle screamed to a jolting halt, but not before it hit one more thing, a very large thing, and sent it tumbling over the roof. During the chaos of Koko's driving, the Irish man had been knocked all over the vehicle, however the gun was still focused on his head.
"Shit, boy, are you drunk or somethin'? Jus' my luck, gettin' a drunk cabbie. Did we just run over somebody? Sounded like it, mebbe we should call an ambulance..." The Irish man rambled on, however Koko was deaf to it. His blood had stopped cold at the mention of running someone over.
The youth scrambled out of the vehicle, ignoring the shouts and threats of the Irish man as he hurried to the figure lying motionless on the ground at the foot of the taxi. He was dimly aware of the Irish man speeding away in the taxi as he bent down to examine body lying on the ground.