The Neon Genres: A Universe Collective

The Apex/Destiny (The Punk'z Collection)

Alyse Through The Looking Glass: Escaping The Madhatter's Wonderland
Part One

   Food was being cooked. Money was being counted. Drugs were being consumed. Whores were being fucked. Associates were being rewarded. Adversaries were being tortured.
    Alysious Abbadon Xenovia Phyadocia couldn't hear any of this. The impairment of which had nothing to do with the family's private sector.
   Although possessing extensive knowledge of the ongoing activities, the fourteen year old bronze skinned girl has been trapped in her own thoughts and imagination since her earth birth. Mother Nature cursed Alysious with Father Time sentencing it to Infinity.
   She could never experience the passionate rhythm of any bohemian rhapsody. Pride and semblance being bestowed by family is a reality for chimera. Warm spoken whispers of mutually lusted ministrations are merely fantasies of a perpetually sweet nothing. All of such are fairy tales for only her eyes to witness and listen.
   It is specifically the fourteen year old's eyes that keep her equally as confident. The orange gazing oculars were her intuition when analyzing emotion. They were zero point sniper scopes when locked on to enemies.
   To whomever is skilled enough, to whoever is the equal amount of controversy between tenderness and power. He that aspires to reach Godhood with pure potential would entice the acceptance of Alysious' stained glass windows to her chromatic soul.
   Despite these major emotional handicaps, Alyse, as she is known around the wonderland, was fairly adept and even excelled at the everyday tasks of the conformer's normalcy.
   And that of the most silent activities of the employed underground.
   Even now she was preparing a variety of dishes topped by an entreé of lamb and trout. Alyse wasn't ecpecting much communication during this feast, and not due to the selfish fact that her beloved father never bothered to learn sign language.
   Boss Phyadocia, as his position granted this title, was angered at the events of the previous hours. Events that showed Alysious A. X. Phyadocia a much more efficient formula for power. They exposed her to the kind of extraordinary energies and knowledge of greater ascension that made Alyse feel like a new born.
   The kind that Boss Phyadocia only described as blasphemous, betrayal and overall nonsense.
   This by the very apparent fear of one man. These energies were made available to Alysious by such an anomaly to be called human. A figure that presents any and every factual evidence to be followed or die for. The will of relenting for a greater admission for power being entirely of Alyse's own conscience, the monumental enigma was so deemed.... Worthy.
   The beating aches in her face kept her mind on reality, on what needed to get done by any means necessary. Alyse's black eye, bruised cheek and split lip was the reminder of her dear father's discipline, but also the required confidence to pursue a teaching of greater ascension.
   In that coincidental moment, Boss Phyadocia strolled toward the first floor. He made his way down a long set of jade stairs wrapping around a massive pure emerald of himself posing with his prized machete. The descending steps so being dubbed, "El Sendero Del Desgraciado Verde Dorado, or The Path Of The Golden Green Wretch," by Alyse herself.
   And so The Golden Green Wretch made his way toward the long polished oak table in the dining room. By the time Boss Phyadocia got there, the extravagent wood setting was decorated with dishes prepared by his youngest daughter.
   The first sector of the historic Phyadocia channelled mansion was empty, only being permitted to bloodborn Phyadocia family. The seven other sectors connected to the small village-like grounds were connected by above ground hallways and transport stations and below ground bunkers and grottos. With her mother elder sister and uncle out on a "family business trip," the ever optimistic Alyse alone to mutually care for her father as he to her.
   When Boss Phyadocia got to the far end of the table, the emerald encrusted throne for the head of the dynasty only, Alyse was standing there with her hands clasped in front of her. The black and white maid's apron strewn around her neck usually pleased her father, often complimenting on the adorable look it had on her.
   Boss Phyadocia stood in front of his daughter for a moment, the expression on his was neither bothered or contempt when she looked up at the large man. Before any words could be shared, Alyse tenderly closed her father's green and gold silk robe and secured the belt with a careful knot. Again, she didn't wait for Boss Phyadocia to speak, proceeding to pull the throne out for her father to comfortably settle into.
   Alyse gestured for her father to claim his throne, a sign not foreign to Boss Phyadocia. Still, the large man analyzed his daughter's north, south, east and west, feeling a much heavier energy than was known of Alyse.
   "Thank you, my child." Boss Phyadocia said in his barotoned gratitude, dismissing the alien energy as a blank suspicion.
   By this phase of life, Alysious was well adapted to reading the lips of the naïve or ignorant. She courtsied cutely in deference to her beloved father's gratitude, pushing in his seat when he got comfy.
   Boss Phyadocia was a large, brawly stature of a man, yet looking younger than most of his unseasoned staff at the experienced age of fifty-seven. The brawly senior even sat higher than the support his ruling throne could provide. Because of his grand anatomy, the big Boss was a very profuse eater. It's pretty rare to see the statuous ruler without some sort of food to disintegrate for satisfying his unhumanly hunger. Many of his colleagues equal im standing have joked many a times of never seeing him while he wasn't stuffing his gullet.
   When Alyse placed her hand on the warming cover to reveal her father's supper, Boss Phyadocia clasped his meaty mitts on hers. It was a blinding quick action, but that full of tenderness. When she looked toward her father, his equally orange gaze was deeply looking over her bruised make-up.
   Boss Phyadocia's expression was soft and constricted, almost as if hurt by the mangled sight. His matter splitting jaw clenched and flexed, shielding a contradicting emotion that was too foreign a language for the great dictator to speak. He has politicians and warlords in his robe pocket, yet feels defeated by his own actions. Gingerly squeezing Alyse's tiny hand, Boss used his free mitt to gently caress the healthy side of her face. It was a desired touch by a loving father that any daughter would hope for.
   Alyse accepted the cottoned gesture by placing her dainty palm on the back of Boss Phyadocia's dominant hand, curling and cuddling into the doting touch.
   But the contempt on Alysious' face neither rose nor fell in acknowledgement of the physical sincerity.
   "My child..." Boss Phyadocia began to speak. Although Alyse was reading his words, the complicated mixture of care, delicacy and uneasiness was transmitted thru his touch. "... My greatest pinnacle will only be reached when each and every patreon if the Phyadocia bloodline has reached the highest pedestal that a being can reach. Your mother, your sister, your uncle and even our subordinates can understand my radism. Evil or conflicted intentions were never ever written in my thoughts for you. We deserve this, Alysious. We deserve to rule after all the blood, sweat, tears and bodies we've sacrificed up until this point. Outside opinions are only made to manipulate and destroy the dynasty that we are still building. All of such is beneath us, beneath you who have to most potential to succeed throne I sit in now. I can not and will not allow any distorting of that conviction. Especially..... not from his, darling. He. Is. Our. Worst. Enemy. Amd will stop at nothing to poison everything in his path for his own selfishness. Just.... Not him, okay? Not that man."
   Boss Phyadocia spoke in both his native spanish and english tongue while speaking to his daughter, orange eyes to orange eyes.
   Alysious looked deeply and "listened" attentively to her beloved father's rant, even believing a bulk of his expressive proclamation.
   But the contempt look on Alysious' face neither rose nor fell in acknowledgement to the verbal sincerity.
   Alysious didn't blink. Alysious didn't smile. The aztec lolita simply nodded once in confirmation.
   Boss Phyadocia hoped for much more of an intimate response from his youngest offspring, but Alyse's ailment made her frequent disconnect understandable.
   With that being said, the famished Boss moved his meaty mitts from the hand and face of his daughter. He then rubbed them together in an anxious excitement.
   Alysious stood motionless for a very long second, simply watching, or moreso... gathering every minimal affection of her father. Capturing the moment valiantly as if she never wanted to forget this particular reflection of his being.
   Her orange gaze finally wavered with a long blink and soft sigh, removing the stainless steel cover from the prepared dish.
   An assortment of pots and pyrex containing dishes from simole white rice to kabob Wagyu beef.
   "I look forward to this each and everyday." Boss Phyadocia happily proclaimed, stabbing and slicing thru salads and fish. "It doesn't matter what elegant restaurant in any part of the world, nothing satisfy my pallets like your home cooking." He continued to compliment, only pausing to stuff his cheeks full like a bear prehybernation. With a gulping sigh, Boss disclosed gently, "I've suggested time and again that Abbadon and Ailarai took a few moments under your knife and flame. Heaven knows they both require the touch of femininity that you carry." He paused to eat a spoon from four different dishes, the spinning stone encrusted setting motified with the table to ease his reach. "But alas, your mother and sister seem to only have heads for blood and numbers. It is a very efficient trait rightfully so, but a deceptively conniving one. Such a double-sided talents would make me hate them gravely if i didn't love them dearly."
   Boss Phyadocia's gullet was finally overwhelmed with enough food to hush his rant. Alyse simply stood to the side of her brawly father, hands clasped in front of her, watching her father inhale the food she so lovingly prepared.
   Again, the aztec lolita collected the moment with an unrelenting eye and an unforgetting emotion.
   She then noticed the sweat building on her father's forehead, most likely due to the excessive heat from the gathered food. Shaking her head in a gentle amazement, Alyse reached inside her apron pocket.
   Boss Phyadocia would become his own "gimp" by never acknowledging his limits if not for his family, most notably his youngest daughter, Alysious.
   Out of her pocket, the aztec lolita pulled out a cotton handkerchief. She dabbed her father's stone skinned forehead so gently, it probably felt like she wasn't even touching him.
   All it takes is a little more pressure.
   Alyse's free hand reached into her other apron pocket, applying force to the one resting on her beloved father's forehead.
   "What the ma..." Before he could finish his inquiry, Boss Phyadocia's entire life, his entire world, entire universe went black.
   Alyse moved the handkerchief as softly as she placed it. The sector was silent, only that of the Phyadocia bloodline was allowed in this channel of the mansion. Accuracy or ailment, there was no difference now. The only sound to be heard were the tick of clocks and the flowing of waters.
   Alyse slightly grimaced at the ache in her elbow, the spontaneous combination of speed and force to penetrate almost dislocating the joint. Despite unrelenting her petite vice, Alyse's hand vibrated with a vicious quake.
   Within the grip of the aztec lolita was the taped end of a titanium stake, the professionally pointed end was buried into the crown of the fear striking and seemingly immortal king Ailar Phyadocia.
   His eyes were shifting in all directions with a vicious bounce, but the rest of his brawly being was frozen in time.
   "I believe in your potential," Alysious began to rewind her thoughts, the worthy being used the dialect of sign language to relay his words.
   She never let go of the spike.
   "If you believe in me, comr and find me. I will always accept you. Deal with the burden as you see fit."
   From the considerate gesture to the generating emotion, these words resonated within the aztec lolita's mind, body and spirit since being pried from him.
   Alysious does believe in him.
   Alysious has to return to him.
   Alysious will deal with the burden.
  Using the spike buried in the back of her father's skull as a stable grip, she pulled his head back until he was facing the ceiling. The bronze skinned fourteen year old pulled out anotherr stake from the same pocket as the 'kerchief. Titanium and cotton. The soft warmth of preserving life and the hard chill of exacting death.
   Gripping the first spike tight, Alyse jammed the second one in the middle of the Boss's forehead with a greater conviction. She twisted both of the spikes in opposite rotations, the sensation of the brawly man's skull cracking from the pressure shot thru the forearns of the aztec lolita.
   Alysious Abbadon Xenovia Phyadocia has taken the lives of many for the sake of her surname's dynasty. Spilled blood. Broken many bones. Killed many mothers. Slaughtered many fathers.
   For obvious reasons, a feeling that seemed more emotionally personal than physically satisfying struck the aztec lolita in her conscience and spirit.
   But not her heart. Alysious was far from regretful, and was long prepared for this kind of conflicting acceptance since meeting the worthy one.
   Alysious does believe in him.
   Alysious has to return to him.
   Alysious will deal with the burden.

Part One
............................/\