Phantom

Let's Take A Vote

The Bugatti Mansion is topped by a large attic space that had been converted into a studio. Large windows compose the eastern and western walls in order to let in as much natural light as possible. The other two walls are occupied by large cabinets and sinks that are in pristine condition due to their lack of use. Cheshire is irked by the scene, he thinks that every art room should be messy and frequently used. Art, in his opinion is extracting something from your mind and heart, it cleansed the person and allowed them to move on. The unused studio only solidifies Cheshire's sense that the Bugatti family is dysfunctional in the extreme.

The studio opens out onto the roof, a flat white surface edged by a metal railing. Cheshire is dissatisfied by this discovery as well. In his opinion, a roof should be slanted so as to let any precipitation slide off. He knows from personal experience that flat roofs can cave in under the pressure of a heavy snowfall, and that stagnant water from torrents of rain wears through supports. Both of these circumstances result in a potential roof collapse.

"And we're all useless in the cold." Cheshire says absently. "It shuts us down."

He jumps up on the railing, swaying for a moment, then walks confidently across the thin metal beam. Peering around, he notes that The Little Brat is curled up in a patio chair snoring quietly.

{What is it doing?}

[I think he's dead.]

(He's just sleeping.)

{Oooh! Let's kill it!}

"No!"

{Meehhhh! Why not?!}

(Phantom said no, so that's that.)

{uuuhhhh! Stupid Phantom!}

"Shut your whore mouth!" Cheshire snaps back.

[Come on! Just this once, he won't care.]

He shakes his head, messy white hair hits his cheeks and obscure his vision. "I'm not doing it."

[Let's take a vote]

{Yeah!}

"No!" He turns away from the teenager's prone form. "How is he still asleep?"

(He can't hear us.)

"Oh. Right." Cheshire grins ruefully.

{Just break it. We don't have to kill it. Just tear it apart from the inside.}

Cheshire crouchs on the bar regarding The Little Brat intently, "what does 'don't kill him' mean, in actuality?"

(Are you asking what death is? It depends on if you mean medically or philosophically.)

[Dead is dead, idiot! There's no middle ground.]

"No middle ground...But what is dead? Is death a lack of pulse? Or is it the lack of hope?"

{Dead~ Dead~ Kill it dead~}

~(Death is a cage, trapped in the rules and regulations of another, unable to act and think for oneself.)~

"Yes," Cheshire agrees, "But could we break him and not kill him?"

(I don't think so.)

[Why does it matter? Just do it! Phantom isn't here, and why would the brat matter? Phantom doesn't know everything. We want to kill him, let's kill him.]

Cheshire stands up and begins to walk away from the slumbering teenager, "Just shut up, okay?"

[YOU'RE JUST A HOMELESS FREAK!!!] He freezes, a growl building in his throat.

[AND YOU LISTEN TO A RADICAL TERRORIST BECAUSE YOU COULDN'T EVEN DECIDE WHICH HAND TO WRITE WITH ON YOUR OWN!!!]

His hands tremble and his blood runs cold, but there is nothing for him to do, how can he escape from his own head?

~(Get help.)~

(Maybe we should all just calm down.)

"I don't want to! Just get out! Leave me alone!"

[We all wish that was an actual option.]

(That is uncalled for!)

{Is there anyway to kill Cheshire without killing us.}

Cheshire laughs, "My own head is against me!"

"Cheshire?"

He whirled around, "No we weren't."

"Huh?" The Little Brat sits up and rubs his face.

"We were talking about..."

(Politics!)

[Morality!]

{Kill it!}

"The morality of killing politicians!" Cheshire smiles.

The Little Brat merely squints at him. "I don't believe you for some reason."

Cheshire grins innocently, which only makes him appear more guilty.

"Where are we anyways?" The drowsy teenager asks.

"Don't you recognize your own roof?" Cheshire asks back.

"To be honest, I've only been back for about 3 months," He replies tersely. "So no, no I don't. Most people wouldn't."

(It seems like a practical thing to know.)

{I'll bet it'd know if we lit its roof on fire.}

"What were we even doing up here?"

That question gives Cheshire pause, "I don't remember. But it was probably gonna be awesome!"

"I doubt that," he replies skeptically.

"Well yeah, SOMEBODY fell asleep and so we forgot." Cheshire huffs.

(It's our fault for keeping him up all of last night and the night before.)

[That literally has nothing to do with anything.]

"Yeah, well normal people go to bed every night." he groans, stretching.

Cheshire scoffs, "Who wants to be normal?"

"People who don't want to be social outcasts."

[Proper ray of sunshine he is.]

{We could still throw it off.}

Cheshire looks over the edge of the roof, a light breeze picked up and blows his hair and tugs at the loose edges of his clothing. He realizes that he feels heavy, it almost surprises him that he has not  fallen straight through the roof yet.

A giggle bursts out of him, how can we be so empty and so heavy at the same time? He is so tired, it feels like if he let himself, he ccould sink right into the waves of unconsciousness. His eyes lids close, and it is a fight to get them back open. He sways on the metal railing.

It is all so bright, so alive, and he feels so dark, so slow, so heavy.  The brisk morning air hurts the back of his throat. It helps a bit. He peers down at the ground, far far away. The glare of the sun across the dark gray cobblestones tells him that it is time to wake up.

"No. Don't want to wake up," He mumbles.

(That doesn't sound right.)

[Idiot.]

~(You do not want to not.)~

{Sleeeeping is stuuupid...}

"Mmm... lets not," Cheshire agrees.

He leans forward slowly, the ground swings out before him and rushes up to meet him.