It is the blaring of his alarm that pulls Staccato awake. With a sigh, he rolls out of his bed and prepares
for the day, taking less than thirty minutes to shower and scarf down a quick meal. On the way out of
the door, he catches sight of his reflection. He scowls, and quickly rips the earring out of his ear.
Stuffing it into his paint-stained bag, he heads out the door. The sun is only just beginning to rise, but it
is time for him to get to work.
Halfway across town, he catches something catches his eye. It's a brown and gold viscet proudly
preforming his card tricks. A black hat sits atop his head. It is none other than
Finn. Contempt bubbles
up from inside. Staccato quickly moves on, hissing under his breath.
The studio, his studio, is still dark when he unlocks the doors. Lights are flipped on, and the color of the
place revealed. His artwork adorns the walls. Harsh jagged lines and sharply angled geometric shapes,
spray painted in the most vibrant of colors. A button on a small remote is pushed and fast paced music
with a heavy staccato beat begins to play. Computers are started up one by one as he rolls across the
small building on a wheeled stool. Smiling, Staccato gives in to the urge to spin in circles until he can't
see straight anymore. After all, he's the only one here for now.
Less than thirty minutes later, the studio door swings open, light from the glass playing against the far
wall. Shrugging off his headphones and minimizing the editing program he was running, Staccato pops
his head up from behind the counter. "
Sniff!" he yells loudly upon seeing the dock tailed viscet. She
doesn't notice him, too absorbed in the music blaring from her white headphones. Smiling, he leaps to
his feet and leans over the counter, hooking one claw beneath her headphones and pulling them off her
head. "
Staccato!" she exclaims with false anger, "
Give those back." He shakes his head even as he hands
them over. "
Just change the studio tunes." he says, nodding towards the stereo. "
We have some clients
coming in today. Both of us don't need to be lost in our headphones." She mutters out an affirmative,
already plugging the aux cord into her phone. He goes back to work, confident his best friend and
co-worker will let him know when their first client arrives.
Five hours of editing and two clients later, his songwriter is poking him in the shoulder, once again
calling his attention away from his work. "
Paisley here?" he asks Sniff even as he raises his head
above the counter. "
Paisley my sweet! I didn't know if you were going to make it today." he exclaims,
catching sight of the multicolored viscet with the pink flower crown. "
Staccato, you know I wouldn't
miss it for the world." she replies honestly setting her things down. "
Of course you wouldn't. That's
why you're my favorite." he winces as Sniff whacks one of his horns. "
I thought I was your favorite."
He quickly back peddles. "
You are! But so is Paisley! You're tied for the rank of favorite." Sniff
huffs, already opening the door to the recording studio. "
Come on Paisley, I have a new song I wrote
just for you." "
Really? That sounds lovely Sniff." Staccato rushes to catch up, tripping over his long tail.
Three hours later, and Paisley has just left. Only an hour and a half had been needed to record the new
song. The rest of that time, the three had spent chatting and just goofing off. Now, it's just him and Sniff.
"
Why don't you go ahead and go home early." Staccato suggests to the female, headphones hanging off
one horn as he edits. "
Didn't you mention something about Red coming to stay with you for a few
days?" It takes a bit of convincing, but soon Sniff is walking out the door, throwing out one last
"
Remember, Alexander said he'd be coming by tomorrow." Smile in place, he goes back to his editing.
Sometime later, he stills, mouse switching from right paw to left. He looks at the computer screen
before him in confusion, before quickly saving it. He doesn't understand a thing. He rises, lips curling in
disgust at the paintings. Everything's too bright. Bending down, he digs in his bag. He pulls out his earring,
bandanna, and leg wrap. He puts them on before grabbing his paint cans and locking up the shop. Not
looking back, Transcendence takes off into the night. He has a friend to meet and a job to do.
The sound of paint is soothing as the pastel mural takes form. This will mark the factory nicely for his
gang. Smudging a bit of paint, he wipes his claws on his bandanna. "
Like it?" he asks, not looking behind
him. He knows
Tora is there watching. She always is. "
Too much yellow." she says critically. "
Whatever,"
Transcendence huffs, "
Let's go burn down that building on 24th."
The fire burns behind them, bright and hot. "
Still too much yellow." Tora huffs even as they run. "
I'm
going to kill you one of these days." Transcendence says because he can. Sirens blare loudly to the right.
They share a nod.
Pip was onto them. They split, silently disappearing into the night. Tonight they won't
be caught.
The next morning, Staccato awakes to paint stained claws and loud news reports. He can't help but
groan. What did his alternative personality do while in control?
