Stuck With the Miscreants

Life is a Bitch, But Shes Totally Doable

 The darkness of despair and panic-stricken feeling sunk between your ribs and throat, hitting you pretty hard as you walked down the main roads, hobos in tow. You realized now why nobody in Ramshackle was out before dark, it was like living out a horror film but there was no scary slasher for you to shriek at or run away from. Just silence and the thickest tension you could ever imagine. If it weren't for the company of Stone and Skipp, you probably would have just perished from overbearing stress.

The obnoxious sound of Stone snoring dragged you out of your intense monologuing, bringing a scowl to your face. You turned over to the drunken bastard himself, knocked out as ever and feet still scuffing occasionally on the hard brick due to him being carried by you and Skipp. Speaking of him, Skipp had been whistling a happy tune that echoed all around you, making you more anxious by the minute. You assumed he took notice of this because he started to talk to you.

"Hey Y/N, you're looking a little nervous," He'd peek over from Stone's shoulder, announcing his observation of you.

"I am, uh, is there a reason we had to take the main roads?" You'd question him, frowning a bit and intensely looking at the nearby alleyway.

"Oh, well, main roads are safer at night!" He nodded, chuckling to himself.

"And don't you worry, Stone will protect us," Your pupils grew smaller at this, frowning even larger and still confused as whatever.

"Uh, Skipp, not to burst your bubble or anything, but Stone is passed out," You mentally scratched your head, you hoped your only defense wasn't some passed out drunk.

"I know," These two simple words made your brain-scape go into full panic mode, thankfully you could walk without focusing too much into each step. You could vaguely hear Skipp in the background humming a continued tune, you would do anything to be on his level of happiness and calmness.

You all continued to walk down the cold, deserted and barren streets, the faulty streetlights were really your only guide and they unexpectedly started to go out. You gripped the black string bag from before holding it to your side with almost inhuman strength like it was your lifeline.

A gray flash hit your eyes, the wind soaring past your right ear, as your face went white. Someone was here. You sort of pushed yourself into Stone, on instinct, using him as some sort of make-shift shelter or shield of sorts. Realizing quickly who you were basically snuggling into, you pushed him off of you in disgust, mentally gagging and letting go of his arm completely and having the weight of him topple over onto Skipp. He yipped in surprise, his whole rhythmic tune being thrown off course.

Stone let out blubbering groans, having been quickly jolted out of his drunken slumber. He basically used Skipp as a landing pillow, using him to push himself up to his feet, still trying to overcome some vast hangover whilst muttering nonsense under his breath. Skipp sat up, rubbing his head before standing up and holding Stone up, making sure he didn't topple over again.

"Y/N, why did you do that?" Skipp turned expectantly to you, blinking at you with those big doe eyes and waiting for an answer.

You breathed out anxiously, looking around frantically before answering him, "I saw something," The tension was thicker and coarser than ever, you could feel Skipp and Stone's eyes on you.

The streetlights flashed, going out for a few seconds but turning on eerily again, but that was all the shadowy figure in the distance needed to appear.

Stone finally had the strength to stand up on his own, fortunately for him, he was the only one not shaking in his boots from pure concentrated fear. But old habits die hard, he soon continued to drink, snatching the now empty bottle back into his trench coat.

As soon as Skipp caught sight of the oncoming figure his happy, cheerful tone soon changed to a panicked one. He grasped onto Stone's arm in fear, holding it tightly. For whatever reason you did the same thing, but for Stone it was expected Skipp would act like this, he didn't give much of a reaction. But for you, he sent you a cold hard glare, which made you mutter out a quick and very much awkward, 'Sorry' before letting go and trying to fiddle away from him.

The awkward breakthrough was short lived, the tone soon changing back to that of eeriness and fear. The shadowy figure got closer each time the streetlight flickered, but they refused to step foot in said light, always standing a few meters away from it so you could only see their silhouette reflected from the light. You could sense Skipp's shivering and shaking in fear from here, seeing that he was clattering his teeth together in suspense, and only a few feet away from you. Stone instantly caught on to the tone of the situation itself, he grasped the empty whiskey bottle from before, smashing the base of the glass bottle against something hard, turning it now into a weapon.

Then the figure finally appeared in front of you all, stepping in the bright streetlight, revealing themselves. Small legs scurried out from the darkness, dragging a petite body with it. You finally recognized them, it was that goddamn rodent who stole your saxophone, and not to mention mauled Tre. Your face now frozen with fear instantaneously turned into ballistic anger, you gripped your fists tightly and held your feet to the ground too angry to move. The boy's emotions toward the now revealed person was unimpressed, or well for Stone at least. The small beast made a run toward you, having Skipp shriek in fear and run behind Stone.

He literally just watched it run toward him with a bored expression before positioning his leg backward and letting out an almighty quarterback like kick, sending the small child flying off to who the fuck knows where. You and Skipp simply watched in awe, mouths now scraping the floor from how far they dropped.

"Urgh, fucking gremlins," Stone shrugged it off like it was nothing, as if he didn't punt a literal child into the cosmos.

He tossed the bottle onto the side of the street, muttering something about 'a waste of a good weapon'. He now took the lead, letting you and Skipp follow behind him still shell-shocked, about the whole event. You all walked for three hours, you didn't know why the walk was so elongated or how you could even tell the time but, it's for the plot, y'know?

When you finally reached the alleyway, you had to call home, there was Vinnie still positioned next to that wooden crate, fallen asleep on the chair, snoring loudly. Stone rolled his eyes at her asleep form, walking past her for a smoke break, you soon followed him with the black bag for some reason, whilst you were passing though you dropped the bag. Suddenly, Vinnie jolted up from her sleep at the sound, glancing down at you as you grabbed the bag, slinging it back over your shoulder.

It could only be up to your imagination for what Vinnie would say next. "Hey," She spoke out to you, wiggling her brows at you, trying to stand up but ultimately tipping the chair back and falling over. Oh Vinnie, predictable as ever, yet unpredictable as ever, you loveable asshole. You were mentally rolling your eyes at the loveable part, or were you?

"Wow, I'm surprised I thought you would screw this up," She snatched the black bag out of your hands, opening the bag as soon as possible, you literally watched her eyes light up at the sights in the wondrous bag, almost made you curious enough to check what was inside of it.

"I think this calls for a lil' celebration," She chuckled at the last part, before closing the bag back up.

"Meet me up there if you want to have a real good time," She pointed at a close fire escape before parkouring it swiftly. You watched her in awe as you most likely had to climb the fire escape the normal way.

The moon was now gracefully falling down from what you could see out of the alleyway, your transcendence to the roof was now present as you made your way towards the fire escape, the small spouts of sunlight shining down on you and reflecting off you in an almost alluring manner.