|Sleeping is Almost NonExistence in the Nightside
Author: kuroXIII PM
It's easier to stop an apocalypse than get a good night sleep. Especially when you live in the Nightside. Usually because of your friends rather than your enemies. DeadBoy/John, Julien/John, and a hint of Eddie/JohnRated: Fiction T - English - Humor - Words: 1,188 - Reviews: 3 - Favs: 7 - Follows: 1 - Published: 03-13-11 - Status: Complete - id: 6821462
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Usually, I don't have to explain this since whenever people go to the Nightside, they generally know where to go to get everything that's bad for them. However, since there are recent cases of (relatively) innocent people from outside the Nightside coming in because of some outside force, I'll explain. But you better pay attention. I'm not going to repeat this twice.
The Nightside is a place where it's always 3 A.M. and the sun never rises. There are Nightmares walking in our reality in borrowed flesh and not everything that looks back at you with human eyes is really human. This is the place where the night never ends and sinning is a common product as long as you can pay for it. Be it money, your body, your soul, or someone else's.
However, even the most dangerous and infamous of us all need to rest for a while. Since there's no set time, it's quite difficult to tell whether it's time to get that 8 or so hours of sleep that everyone outside the Nightside is so obsessed about. Most don't even realize that time passing by and go on for days without sleeping. …Which is probably why we have so many crazies and insane people in the Nightside.
Me and Suzie? We both make sure to at least sleep for at least 4-6 hours within a 24 hour setting. Being the people that we are, we have too many enemies to count and some friends ready to replace our enemies if needed. Therefore, we need to stay sharp and control of ourselves.
This is especially important for me since I tend to get cases which requires all my wits, luck, and possibly, blowing up something in order to solve it. Suzie on the other hand, can do her job drugged, blindfolded, and already planning what to do with the award money.
Which is why I was reasonably a little irritated when I stared at my guest, already going through my fridge and hanging his purple coat next to my white coat. I hope they don't get into a fight. Finding a tailor who doesn't charge everything you have and a little extra is quite difficult. For some reason, despite all the powers that be, there isn't a single power who can mend clothes with a thought. Heal, yes. Clothes? Not so much.
Then again, Dead Boy never respected personal space as the dead just don't care. I just sighed, and just went back to reading my Zane Grey and Louis L' Amour Western novel. Dead Boy was busying himself with picking out which DVD he wanted to watch. Lately, he has been bringing his own DVDs so I had to get a separate case or else he'll keep messing up their places, which are in alphabetical order (Suzie never fails to make fun of me for that).
Eventually he started up my "fuck-off wide-screen" plasma television and sat back besides me. He gave me a quizzical look and I finally put down my book, taking my time, and gave him a glare.
"What? Is there anything you want from my fridge? The T.V's not big enough?" Okay, I admit, I was quite grumpy, but that's what you get when you interrupt someone's beauty sleep when they only slept for 2 hours for the past 3 days. None of which is my fault this time (really!). I've been receiving several… guests as of late and as nice as they are, I'm starting to think of buying a flamethrower.
Dead Boy rose one eyebrow (damn it, why can't I do that?) and smirked. "What's got your panties in a twist, John? It's not like I've been coming here everyday."
That bastard. He knew perfectly well what the cause of my problem was. It was true that he wasn't coming here everyday, but he did come enough to make me wish for a titanium door, but those shops in particular having been going out of business immediately whenever I happened to glance at them. Some of my other friends, and some that are just confused enemies, have been visiting my house lately. Only the really brave or the ones who don't care usually come. Some Suzie approves or shoots on sight. Most of them come when she isn't there.
For example, sometimes, Julien's co-workers practically shove him into my house, giving the excuse that it would be a faster way of getting news. But I was told discretely that he wasn't getting enough sleep since he kept working and exposing crimes that even the Nightside won't stand for. Usually, he would question me up to the point where I just trip him on my bed and he would just fall asleep promptly. I guess even the great adventurer misses that bit of home sometimes.
Lately, we built up a routine where he would try to claw my brain politely of every event I've been in (and caused) before falling asleep. I don't know why I've been uncomfortable whenever he does fall asleep. Maybe it's just because I'm not used to seeing him this vulnerable?
Even Alex also comes over (using his card) whenever he needs to get away for a while when Cathy's not there. He would bitch and moan, but I let him stay over since he would lend me his couch whenever I needed it no matter what happened.
There are quite a worrying amount of people who likes to come over now, but they're all powerful people in their own right, so I'm not that surprised. However, I'm not looking forward to when they finally meet each other. That would be awkward.
For now, I'm just going to set up more bookshelves for them to put their own crap in and demand that they bring their own food (Eddie managed to surprise me by bringing in a nice ice cream cake. Suzie was very pleased at the tiny arrangement of puppies on top). After all, I'm not their mother and I'm not wasting even more effort for them. Also, must remember to buy more mind-wiping bleach (for me and the T.V).
This was necessary because some of them have very… particular movie tastes. I was reminded of that as I took one look at the title of Dead Boy's choice and firmly put on a pair of earmuffs, hiding behind his back and desperately focusing on my novel. I couldn't hear him cackling at me, but I can feel his back shaking. I would be tempted to give him a good slap, but that might risk looking at the T.V.
There are just some things a penguin, a Spork, and a liberal use of honey and mustard were never meant to be used for.
Crossposted at http : / / community . livejournal . com / nightsidetales /