We Don’t Dance

Noodle thinks of something that might be beneficial for Murdoc. Also she really wants to learn how to ballroom dance.

Noodle didn't know what made her do it. It had been weeks since she'd even spoken to Murdoc. Ever since that night they'd gone on a drive together and then the next morning she'd had to shunt one of his whores out the door, she'd been purposefully avoiding him. She'd been hanging out with 2D a lot, and frequently breakfasting with both him and Russel (Murdoc never seemed to get the Noodle-scrawled memo). But despite all these efforts to drive away nagging thoughts and enjoy herself, she found it becoming increasingly impossible. Mainly because the day of the "whore" incident Murdoc had actually given her what, in his terms, could only be considered an apology. Meaning he sort of looked guilty about the whole thing. Noodle could tell that maybe, somewhere very, very deep down, maybe he actually felt a little BAD about himself. It wasn't likely, but the thought of what it might entail had been causing her a great deal of unrest. Gorillaz wasn't something she would ever truly be apart from, she could clearly see that now having been gone so long, and an inkling of change in the constant arrogant clod that was Murdoc seemed like something that needed to be pounced upon, rather than ignored. At least, that was what she had apparently now concluded, since ignoring it just was not working. Maybe that's what made her do it. She really, really didn't know. Maybe she was just actually that desperate to learn how to ballroom dance. "It's only like a twelve week program," She was saying, as she and Murdoc drove throughout the snow lined streets; Murdoc's stare was dark, one hand gripping the wheel perhaps too tightly and the other flicking some cigarette ash out the slightly cracked window; it was much too cold to roll it down all the way, at least, according to Noodle. "Three fucking months." "Well it sounds longer when you put it like that..." "When you put it like exactly how it is?" "I'm not making you do anything." "Fine, then let's turn around and-," "We are NOT turning around!" "Clearly very ambivalent on the matter," Murdoc acidly remarked, rolling his window down a bit more just for the satisfaction at seeing Noodle's responding glare and shiver. The rest of the ride passed in silence. Murdoc purposefully hit the curb at quite a speed as he went in to park, pretending as if he didn't see Noodle get choked by her seat belt and continuing in such a manner as he stepped out into the biting wintry air, Noodle glaring at him the entire time. They had stopped in front of a tall, towering building with the appearance of something constructed in the 1800s. Despite a solid looking stone foundation, the dark wood of the walls looked too weathered to still be functional, and Murdoc took in the gabled roof with its cracked stone trim and gargoyles skeptically. Noodle had got out to stare up at the place as well, not missing Murdoc's dubious side eye. She chose to ignore it, pulling her jacket tightly around her and starting up the steps to the massive oak doors without a backwards glance. Murdoc took one last drag on his cigarette and, very reluctantly, followed. A few flourescent lit halls later and the two had entered into a very large dance hall. The shiny dark wooden walls and floors were bathed in the yellow light of oil lamps and a low hanging chandelier, the elegance of the room a stark contrast to the peeling walls and cracked tiles of the halls just out the door. The majority of the dance class was already gathered, and Noodle and Murdoc ambled somewhat awkwardly towards the group, hanging around the edges and catching just the tail end of the instructor's greeting speech. Basically, it appeared they were all going to pair off and two step in order for the instructor to get a general idea of where everyone was at before proceeding to actual assignments and instruction. A large turntable sat in a corner partially hidden by floor sweeping red velvet curtains, and the instructor put on a slow tune (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R2LQdh42neg) for everyone to slowly revolve around to. Somewhat nervously, a fact that annoyed her greatly, Noodle turned to face Murdoc, who was eyeing the couples stepping on each other's feet around them warily. He finally seemed to feel Noodle's stare and looked down at her, swallowing once, his hands firmly in their pockets. "Remind me why we're doing this again, love?" Murdoc tried at nonchalance, but the prospect of actually having to dance, properly dance, with Noodle, was unnerving him slightly; this was the farthest thing from his exceedingly large comfort zone. He could play bass, be crude, and fuck around, and it ended about there. Ballroom dancing? Sod off. Noodle actually looked to be thinking along the same lines as Murdoc, but she squared her jaw resolutely and tilted her chin up at her dancing partner, firmly placing a hand on his shoulder before she could stop herself. The other she held out impatiently for what was still jammed firmly in his pocket. "We need to hold hands," Noodle willed, not daring to meet his eyes as she felt her face burn; maybe this wasn't the best bonding idea. When she'd thought "ballroom dancing," all she'd pictured was something of elegance and sophistication, elegance and sophistication that would maybe rub off onto Murdoc (hah), somehow the fact the two of them would actually have to talk and be near one another had totally slipped her mind. How? How the fuck? But it was too late to turn back now, and besides, she DID want to learn how to dance this way. And she did firmly believe it would have some sort of benefit on Murdoc. ...Well she was hoping it would. He stared at her hand, before rolling his eyes and swiftly taking it in his own. The other he brought to a hesitant rest on her hip, touching as little as possible, and the two began to revolve with just a bit more grace than anyone else in the room. "I expected you'd be worse at this," Noodle commented after a bit of surprisingly not-too-awkward silent two stepping (though the song wasn’t helping), during which they'd both managed to avoid stepping on each other's toes. "Hah," Murdoc scoffed, deciding he'd rather change the subject, "Why then, didn't you just get Russ or the Faceache instead?" "Russel already knows how to ballroom dance," Noodle answered, as Murdoc spun her slightly outwards in a fairly decent twirl. "And 2D... I mean..." She was back near his chest, and chanced a glance upwards, meeting his eye with a raised brow. "Mmm, fair enough," He sighed in understanding, thankfully seeming to relent a bit; Noodle knew anything to do with bashing 2D would most likely get the results she wanted, in this case for him to maybe put a bit less effort into his abhorrence. They'd gone about halfway around the room now, silent once more, though with another twirl, upon being brought back into Murdoc's vicinity Noodle's nose twitched at something much too strange not to comment upon. "Are you wearing cologne?" She exclaimed, loud enough for a nearby couple to cast them a glance. Murdoc looked down at her, blinking a bit stupidly but regaining his composure soon enough. "Are you wearing perfume?" He asked, just as loudly; the couple near them started to clumsily "dance" further away. Noodle's brows furrowed at that stupid comeback. "I always wear perfume," She said, unabashedly leaning forwards and sniffing Murdoc's leather jacket; he released her grip, using the hand on her hip to shove her back some. "You're definitely wearing cologne." "I always wear cologne," He glared, causing Noodle to scoff and cross her arms. They were standing a few feet apart now, attracting more than just a few stares. The instructor was completely across the room, however, giving directions to some people and totally oblivious to whatever was going on across the hall. "I guess I wouldn't know whether or not that was true, seeing as normally you stink too much for anything else to be distinguishable," Noodle rolled her eyes; it was meant to be a throwaway comment, but when she made to continue dancing, Murdoc looked stoutly resolute. "You know, I don't believe I'll be continuing with this," He pretended to be thinking over the prospect, grinning at Noodle as her face turned to a frown. "Fun as it was, I can think of many, many other things I'd rather being doing. So, cheers, love," He gave a careless wave, leaving Noodle to stand dumbstruck as he strutted lazily through the dancing couples and disappeared out the door. A few women started to mutter sympathetically at the quite alone Noodle, but it only took her a few seconds of listening to that before she was out the door after her escapee. She burst out into the hallway, staring around at the deserted corridors before taking off down the way leading to the exit. Another angry burst out of the front doors of the building and she stood on the stone steps, cold air swirling around her and biting at her face as she watched Murdoc sliding into the driver's seat of the Stylo. He had to step very heavily onto the breaks, the car screeching against the frozen street, to avoid driving right into Noodle, who'd just thrown herself, arms outstretched, in front of the vehicle. There was silence but for the rumbling of the Stylo's engine as Murdoc lazily regarded Noodle through the windshield, and she him from the other side, arms still held out and expression almost frightening. He was leaning against one long fingered hand, head tilted and watching her with a smirk, a face that made her all the angrier. When she opened her mouth to start shouting however, he cut her off, rolling down the window and calling out. "Get in." Noodle stared at him incredulously, shaking her head and sputtering. "I will not-," "Just get in, love," Murdoc reversed slightly, turning the car around so that the passenger door was now level with Noodle; he leaned across and pushed it open, staying across the seat so he could smile up at her furious expression. He knew she'd do it, though, she was possibly more curious than a cat, and after a moment's more idling, Noodle was sliding in next to him, arms crossed and face still dark as he skidded out and away from the dance hall. "So where are we going-?" "Ah, ah, ah," Murdoc shook a finger at her, Noodle angrily pushing his hand away. "I put up with whatever the fuck that just was, so you're going to have to sit there and wait and see." Noodle, having only herself to blame for the situation she was currently in, decided that waiting and seeing was as good an option as any, and sunk further into the leather car seat, mentally going over all the insults she was going to cleverly throw at him soon as the opportunity presented itself. A short while later, and they were at the very top of a car park, the matte black of the Stylo the only car present. Noodle couldn't help but be a little surprised, and immediately after more than a little annoyed; Murdoc had been surprising her too much lately, irritating for someone who was normally so predictable. They both stepped out once more into the cold air, walking together and coming to a stop right at the low concrete wall of the garage. A gust of wind blew back their jet black hair, and they both shut their eyes and breathed in deep the crisp smell of winter. Night was just beginning to fall, but the sky was so cloudy it was hard to even tell where the sun was, only that it was definitely getting darker and more and more lights were appearing in the vast concrete jungle laid out beneath them. "Only gonna get colder," Murdoc spoke lowly, watching Noodle's breath appear in foggy exhales; she looked over him, anger not totally faded from her dark green glare. "Better start groovin'." Noodle laughed unpleasantly at that, about to make a crack about his age, a nice one she'd thought up on the way over. However, as she opened her mouth, Murdoc withdrew from his jacket a small set of speakers and an iPod, and the words died on her tongue. Surprise. Again. He scrolled down to a song (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ImKY6TZEyrI), setting the speakers on the concrete ledge and turning to face Noodle, stance perfect and hands extended for a dance as he sank into a slight bow, winking up at her through his ruffled mop of raven black hair. Try as she might, it was becoming increasingly more difficult to remain furious. "I like this song," She muttered, taking his hand; they once more fell into a slow waltz of sorts. "Everyone likes this song. But, I did see it on your G-mix," Murdoc grinned, and despite herself Noodle sort of grinned as well. "You actually look at that?" "Actually did. Was sort of a one time thing," He spun her out, not missing the slight grin as she spun back. It was much more comfortable up here rather than in the dance hall; beautiful a room it may have been, public settings didn't exactly fit them. Caught up in the music, Noodle hadn't realized how well Murdoc had been leading her until the song ended, and then she felt just a tad annoyed again. She stepped back from him, giving him a scrutinizing look that went from his worn Cuban heels to his mismatched eyes and back again. There was a small silence, then- "You can ballroom dance." It wasn't a question, and Murdoc's face cracked into a grin as Noodle realized. "Yes." The wind howled around them, car horns honked distantly and somewhere somehow, in the city, an owl hooted. Noodle shut her eyes, turning her back on Murdoc and feeling-, well she didn't know what she was feeling. Angry? Sort of. Surprise? Again? Yeah, definitely that. Also suddenly very tired. When Murdoc put on "All Apologies" by Nirvana, she finally turned around, snatching the iPod out of his hands and switching the song off before thrusting the device back into his hands. They glared at each other for a moment, or, Noodle did, Murdoc just stood looking slightly bemused, before Noodle exhaled and shook herself. "I guess I don't need the class then," She said; Murdoc shrugged. "The least you could do is teach me, after wasting so much of my time just now." "Aha, right, I wasted your time-," "You did, actually. You obviously had this planned from the beginning, or, do you just always have a spare pair of iPod speakers in your jacket pocket? Actually, don't answer that," Noodle held up her hand as Murdoc made to reply, then extending it to take his own once more; she was getting cold. They made their way around the car park without music, listening to the sounds of the city and dancing perhaps a little closer than normal to try and fight the cold that was getting icier by the minute. In fact, by the time they made it back around, Noodle nearly had her head on Murdoc's chest. He could see her eyes getting sleepy, and pulled them then against the hood of the Stylo, Noodle not bothering to protest as Murdoc stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets and pulled the warm leather around them both. It was instantly much more warm for Noodle, and she was too tired and muddled to care much about if this was awkward or weird or whatever it normally was, because leaning against Murdoc's chest, which was warm and firm and didn’t smell bad for once, tucked into the warmth of his jacket with the cold air still ruffling her hair, just felt, at the moment, extremely nice. She locked her hands loosely around his middle, tucking her head under his chin, smelling the cigarette smoke and leather and, cologne. She blinked herself somewhat awake, eyes focusing on all the little fuzzies in Murdoc's sweater under her cheek. "The cologne is nice," Noodle muttered; she felt Murdoc stiffen a bit beneath her, and wondered if she'd made it weird again. Murdoc stared out at the cityscape, Noodle's hair tickling his chin, unsure what to make of her remark. He knew it was her weak form of apologizing, though his overreaction back at the dance hall had all been fabricated anyway, in order to escape the stupid place. He smiled a bit to himself, glad in the knowledge she must've at least felt a little bad, and patted her back slightly with his pocketed hand. "So's the perfume."

Red Eye

2D and Noodle come across something creepy in the park at night.

2D stared at himself in the horribly unflattering fluorescent light of the bathroom mirror. Outsiders looking in supposedly were smitten by the towering lanky frame, thick hunks of dark blue locks, sharp yet boyish features. He trailed a finger down the length of his pointed nose, felt over a day or so's worth of roughness on his chin, and blinked his bottomless black eyes at his reflection wearily. Did girls these days really still like the bruised, shadowy-eyed drug addict look? He sighed to himself, flicking off the bathroom light as he went back out to his room. The other three had gone out not too long ago, a glance at the clock telling him it was almost midnight. He'd heard Noodle's yell outside his door, but had feigned sleep, not much desiring the smoke, sweat, and spinning head ordeal tonight. He guessed he should've gone, but it was hard when you're feeling as blue as your hair. He gave another sigh as he looked around his room, eyes landing on a crumpled pack of cigarettes next to his typewriter. Sure, that'll do. He was sitting on the floor next to his bed, head in one hand and cigarette in another, when the desire for better ambiance had him decidedly trudging up through the old house to the attic, finally emerging through the small window that let out onto the roof. He was just pulling the last of his long legs through, when- "Oh, hey 2D." "Fucking- whoa!" 2D would've rolled right off and fallen three stories had Noodle not lunged forward and grabbed onto his jeans, the lack of shirt making it hard to grab anything else. She pulled him back with a grunt, sitting them both onto the ridge of the roof, and holding her hand out until she was sure he was steady on the incline. 2D had his head in his hands and was leaning forwards on his knees, his pale, bruised back heaving as he tried to catch his breath. "Noodle, blud, if you want to sing in Gorillaz, you won't have a problem with me. But Murdoc would-," "What?" Noodle interrupted with a laugh, 2D turning to stare at her accusingly. "Well you bloody tryna kill me again? First last night, then-," "Last night?" "You stalking into me room at dawn! Dawn of the dead, more like!" "That was like two days ago," Noodle laughed, ruffling 2D's hair so it became even more spiky than usual; he began smoothing it back down in grumbles. "Maybe if you came out of your room every now and again you'd have a better idea of what was going on." "M'working." "Working on getting high." 2D opened his mouth to respond, but eventually just shrugged his wide shoulders, going quiet and finally staring out at the ambiance he'd been on a quest for. The roof provided. The house was so tall, and they were far enough out from the city that they had a good view of all the lights in the distance while still having stars overhead as well. He felt like seeing stars, and slid down off the ridge of the roof so he could lie down on the incline, Noodle mimicking the position. The red and green lights of a plane blinked far overhead in the mass of twinkling silver, and in the cold winter air drifted the warm smoke of someone burning a wood fire. 2D breathed in deep, shutting his eyes briefly, feeling like he and Noodle were the only two awake in the world right then. "Aren't you cold?" Noodle suddenly asked, her eyes doubting that one patch of chest hair was enough to keep him warm. 2D shrugged; yeah, he was definitely cold, but he didn't feel like going back in and getting a jacket. "You'll get a cold, if you don't watch it," Noodle warned, and when he continued to lie there, she was squeezing back through the window herself. 2D enjoyed the isolation, after all, he'd been expecting it; the loneliness gave him inspiration, let his imagination run wild in the dark and cold winter. Noodle returned fairly soon however; he opened his eyes again when he felt something soft drop onto his chest, holding up a white, fluffy sweater with a heart in the middle. Deciding not to comment, 2D slipped it over his head. Being Noodle's it was extremely tight fitting, but warm, nevertheless, and he grinned at her thankfully. "Thank you, marm." "Mmm," Noodle laid back down next to him, producing a cigarette from somewhere and lighting it, thereafter lighting 2D's after he'd fumbled around for his crumpled pack. "You didn't go with Murdoc 'n' Russ?" 2D asked through an exhale of smoke; Noodle shrugged next to him. "It was orginally going to be just me and Russ; Murdoc got wind and that turned me off of the whole thing." "Why?" Noodle looked at him; no, he was indeed asking that as a serious question. "Dunno," She supplied; 2D didn't inquire further, truthfully having forgotten what she'd said anyway. "Y'know," He held his palm up the sky, pointing at some stars, "There was a lot of shit about it, but Plastic Beach had the best view of the stars you ever viewed," He let his hand drop, exhaling smoke in a sigh; he continued before Noodle could respond. "You ever miss the shit? Like, the 'bad times' or whatever the fuck? You ever miss it?" 2D craned his head backwards, then to the side to find Noodle. She was staring at the stars now as well, and nodded vaguely at 2D's question. "I think you always miss something when it's over, no matter what it is," Noodle said, flicking her ash; 2D could see the night's sky reflecting in her eyes, his own going wide at her words. "Blimey Noodle, that's really true innit? Where'd you hear that?" He stared at her, impressed, to which Noodle just stared back. "I made it up," She finally said, adding a bit of a mystical tone to her voice; 2D's eyes went even wider, and he shook his head slightly. "Crazy," He muttered, looking back up at the stars. Noodle continued to stare at him for a moment longer, her eyes taking in the hollowed, high cheekbones and perfectly arched mouth before she shook her head slightly herself. He was lucky he was good looking, that's all she could say. Though, even then, she couldn't fathom being able to put up with him on a day to day basis, like so many women apparently sought to do. Yeah, 2D was a cutie, but if you can't talk to someone... She scoffed slightly to herself; the people who drooled after him were most likely dumber than he, talking wouldn't be a problem. She found herself glaring a bit. "Wanna go down to the park?" 2D suddenly asked; he was standing before Noodle had even replied, swaying a little precariously on the incline. "C'mon," He held out an overly large hand, Noodle taking it with a bit of a grin. A few blocks down was a park that'd been abandoned for so long no one went there anymore, not even the prowling hobos of the night. The rumors of haunt was what kept them all out, mainly, rumors that had actually been started by Murdoc's howls, as he occasionally chose the cement play tunnels to lament over his life in the dead of night. Leafless trees were all that grew up from the dead grass, their finger like shadows waving at 2D and Noodle in the orange glow from the streetlamps. 2D followed at a slow walk when Noodle bounded over to the swing sets, leaning against the metal bars and watching her for a bit. He would've liked to have joined in, but stuff like swings gave him terrible headaches. He settled for looking cool smoking and keeping a look out for any stray ghouls, though it was a bit hard to maintain with Noodle's fluffy white sweater riding well over his belly. His eyes followed Noodle's wide arc when she leaped from the peak of her momentum, the small frame hitting the pebbly ground in a roll. "You really think this place is haunted?" Noodle approached 2D, her cheeks pink from the cold and an excited air about her after her swing set jump. "Nah." The two began a slow walk through the park, following the concrete path away from the light of the streetlamps. "And why not?" "Dunno," 2D shrugged, flicking his cigarette butt into a nearby ashtray. "Ghosts 'n' things like people, don' they? Del 'n' the rest hung out in Russel, didn't mess around haunting parks 'n' shit." Noodle couldn't help but blink a little in surprise that such a sensible statement came from 2D. Then again, he wasn't all dumb, and then again maybe it wasn’t that sensible. Despite his words however, she still felt a growing unease as they continued deeper into the park, shadowy jungle gyms and chain link fences looming in the growing darkness, the chains of swing sets creaking eerily. "Everyone says though," Noodle continued, her voice lowering despite herself, "that they can hear, things, here at night..." She trailed off, moving closer to 2D so that their arms were brushing. It wasn't like her to be afraid of anything, but the thing was, you couldn't hit a ghost. All her training and technique was useless against something paranormal. Even still, it had never been her vice, but the atmosphere was doing its best to remedy that. The wind seemed to be blowing more heavily, the gnarled trees reaching out towards them and odd howls emanating from the cement tunnels being gusted through. It reminded Noodle of the Goosebumps books she used to read when first learning English, and not in a good way. Particularly in a Dead House way, the only scary Goosebumps book out there. "2D," She was holding onto his arm now, 2D himself grinning at her in surprise. "Blimey Noodle, not usually like this," He put his arm around her shoulders; she had stopped them walking, and was staring ahead with widening eyes. "2D," She said again, tugging his arm. "What-?" He finally followed her stare, blinking at what, a ways off in the distance, appeared to be two glowing red orbs. Slowly, as the wind howled and the trees creaked and the full moon shone overhead, 2D's other arm went around Noodle, hugging her tightly in as much fear as her returning grip held. "What-," "Is-," "That?" They both spoke for each other, when suddenly, accompanied by another massive gust of wind, a terrible howling and creaking rent the night. The red orbs suddenly vanished, leaving 2D and Noodle to run for their lives back up the concrete path. Neither could hear the other's screams over their own, and neither stopped running until the park was far behind. They'd reached the end of the street, both heaving underneath the flickering yellow light of a streetlamp, hands on their knees. "I, I think-," 2D was slapping his hand about Noodle's shoulder, trying to communicate. "Shut, shut up," Noodle breathed, pushing him away and massassging out a stitch in her side. The cold air hurt to breathe in, though eventually both Gorillaz had caught enough breath to be able to stand up fairly straight, 2D falling into Noodle shortly after doing so. "I, told, you," Noodle breathed, hiding her face in her sweater on 2D's chest, "I said, I said we better be careful-," "M'sorry, sorry," 2D was hugging Noodle tightly; he stood back with his hands still on her shoulders. "We'll listen to you next time, never going back there," He pointed in the direction of the park, before falling back into the hug. They stood that way for a bit, finding security in the contact and warmth of someone else as the tingles of fear faded. "What was it?" Noodle asked, staring blankly at nothing as she recollected the glowing red dots; the two were now leaning side by side on an iron fence behind them. "Looked like the fucking boogieman," 2D muttered, biting at one of his nails. "You wanna like, get back to the house?" Noodle asked, once again starting to feel unease as the wind picked up once more. "Yeah, yeah let's go..." Some time later and the two were sat on the couch in front of the TV, a blanket wrapped around them both and hot chocolate steaming in their hands. 2D had actually suggested watching Dawn of the Dead, to which Noodle had vehemently protested against, instead popping in The Iron Giant. 2D liked The Iron Giant, but it didn't leave him riveted, and it wasn't long before the sleepy man was nodding off, his head lolling awkwardly on his shoulders before Noodle forced him to just give it up and lay down. He was asleep by the time she did the same, the couch being big enough and 2D being thin enough for her to lie very snug against his side. In his sleep he constricted his arms around her, muttering something indistinguishable but leaving them ever closer when his hold slackened somewhat. Noodle was fine with it. He still smelled like delicious butterscotch, and the familiarity of it coupled with one of her favorite movies sounding the background all but completely drove the scary park occurrence from her mind. She tucked the blanket more snugly around them both, shutting her eyes and listening to 2D's heart while her head rose and fell on his chest with his breathing. It was probably just a cat or something anyway.

Finally Morning

It is the morning and Russel needs to chill. So does everyone really but no one wants to get in Noodles way when shes angry.

"Yeah well, there's definitely something in the ceiling, alright?" Russel hunched over his morning coffee, looking over both shoulders before daring to bend down and take a sip. Murdoc leaned against the bar next to him, disinterest that much stronger considering he was tired as hell. "Ain't nothing in the ceiling, Russ," He said absentmindedly, picking at a fray in his sweater. The kitchen was slowly flooding with sunlight, golden rays disguising the freezing weather outside. The old house creaked and groaned, the struggling radiators adding to the eerie noise as they did their best to warm up. Even still, there were drafts. Kong might've had hordes of zombies gnawing at its gates but at least there weren't so many fucking drafts. Murdoc groaned, rubbing a hand over his shadowy face and glancing over at Russel. His drummer was still darting his hollow eyes around the kitchen every so often, occasionally even fixing his accusing eye on his coffee, as if that, too, was out to get him. Poor Russ, unfortunately he was a lot more fun before Death started following him around and he turned into a paranoia ridden nutcase. Or, wait; was he still being followed, even? Murdoc was never quite sure what happened with that whole thing. What he did know, was that the only way to really calm Russel down, Murdoc dug around in his pockets, were to slip him a few, he produced some green pills, of these. "Russ, what's that behind you?" Murdoc asked, calmly as he could, since words like those were akin to gunshots for Russel. "Where?" He slung his head so sharply over his shoulder some joints cracked, giving Murdoc enough time to drop two pills into his coffee before he fixed his foggy stare into the mismatched red and black one. "The hell did you see?" "Oh nothing, was just a fly," Murdoc waved his hand around Russel's shoulder, shooing the nonexistent fly. Russel himself didn't look convinced, and quickly downed his entire cup of coffee, taking the mug to the dishwasher, ready to retreat back up to his room where there was only one door and no flies/assassin's trying to kill him. As he reached the archway out into the hall, however, his entire, tense demeanor sort of slackened. He brought his hands to his face, rubbing his eyes a few times then adjusting his beanie a bit over his forehead. From the bar, Murdoc grinned. "Damn," Russel muttered to himself, blinking around the kitchen, then spotting Murdoc. "How are you feeling, Russel, darling?" Murdoc asked, after which he received a brief glare. It faded quickly however, as Russel took a few steps back into the kitchen, giving a stretch and yawn. "Not too bad," He replied, sounding surprised himself, looking around the kitchen with a much more relaxed stare than before. "Think m'gonna go get breakfast somewhere; you in?" "You know, normally I would, but-," "We already stopped somewhere," Noodle had appeared in the kitchen arch, her sudden presence actually not spooking Russel into the next dimension for once; Murdoc shrugged, giving a hand to Noodle as his explanation. "Fuck ya'll," Russel waved a hand over his shoulder as he left the kitchen, popping his head back around the doorway shortly after exiting. "'D awake?" "Farthest thing from it," Noodle replied. The front door opened and shut behind Russel, letting another wave of cold air into the kitchen. "These sodding drafts," Murdoc griped, lifting his feet up onto his bar stool to avoid being hit (much) by the cold. He was so annoyed it took him a while to realize Noodle hadn’t moved from standing awkwardly in the archway. Her brows were furrowed and she looked like she was trying to say something, an odd look for the normally outspoken girl, but then, she'd been a bit odd all night. Murdoc was a bit tired of it, really, existential crises didn't suit her. "Something on your mind, Nood?" He made himself ask, if nothing else for the effect it would have when he yawned and left the kitchen when she started crying again. Noodle had started to say something, but was interrupted by a sudden addition of another, squeakier, female voice. "Murdoc?" It rang down the staircase, "Murdoc?" Closer this time. Noodle stared at Murdoc, expression darkening as she realized what that voice must belong to, while Murdoc himself had a sudden wave of realization crash over him. He proceeded to burst out laughing, holding a hand out to Noodle as he tried to explain. "Now I bloody remember!" He laughed, shaking his head with mirth, "That's why I was on the sodding couch last night! I'd totally forgotten myself, to be completely honest, but-," "There you are!" The owner of the voice had appeared in the kitchen, a woman of about 30 or so who fit the 'bimbo' description to a tee. She was wearing one of Murdoc’s shirts, and approached him in what was obviously supposed to be a seductive manner, throwing her arms around his shoulders and tucking her head over one of them. "Someone's the early bird," She giggled, nuzzling into Murdoc's ear, resulting in him sort of cringing to the side. From the doorway, Noodle watched things unfold in open disgust. It was understandable why the green moron had come down to sleep on the couch; that voice was unbearable. Everything about the scene in front of her was unbearable. And he'd let this thing into the house? Their house? Noodle could feel herself growing hot, and before she could stop herself (not that she would have done, anyway), she was stalking over to glare down the tittering dumb bitch. "Out," She hissed; though they were actually eye to eye, Noodle gave the impression of being much taller, and the woman backed away uncertainly, her incredulous stare fixed on Murdoc. "Murdoc-?" "Out!" Noodle said again, louder this time, "Out, out, out!" All decorum gone, she was then pushing and shoving the woman till she was out the door, slamming it so hard behind her that 2D shrieked awake somewhere upstairs. "Oi, love, lemme at least give her a fiver for a cab-," "You," Noodle cut Murdoc off, pointing an accusing hand at him as she glided back into the kitchen. It was as if actual heat was radiating off her fierce green eyes, and Murdoc couldn't help but shrink away. He started backing up with every advancement Noodle made. "We agreed," She was nearing now, as Murdoc’s back had reached the wall, "No one, not anyone, especially not you, brings people back to the house," Noodle spoke through her teeth, stretching herself as far as possible upwards to get as eye to eye with Murdoc as she could. "Didn't we?" She hissed, angrily pushing away the risen hands in front of her that Murdoc had been holding as a defense. "Well, yeah, maybe-," He extended each word long as he could, rough voice still holding all its arrogance; obviously he didn't care. "Don't do it again," Noodle poked him hard in the chest, "Go to nasty hotels that they make for people like you. Don't bring it here. We agreed," She added sharply, when Murdoc opened his mouth once more. They had, indeed, agreed on this when the four of them moved in, and the defiling of the rule clearly did not sit well with Noodle. He stared down at her, taking in the dark glare and hands balled into fists; she was definitely angry. What was the the smartest thing to do here? Well, he resisted grinning to himself, what was the smartest thing to do with all women? Tell them what they want to hear, then wait till they're gone and do the exact same thing over again, of course. Murdoc heaved a sigh, shrugging his shoulders and nodding. "You're right, Noodle, how could I have been so-," "I mean it, Murdoc." She had gotten so close they were nearly touching; Murdoc could even smell the top of her fluffy hair, the sweet smell an almost comical contrast to the ferociousness of the person it belonged to. Noodle wasn't having any of it. He may think he was so clever, but the changes in his eyes and body language were too easy to read. That, and the fact he just wasn't a very reliable person in general, had her seeing right through his compatibility charade. "You rule the tour bus, the studio, the everywhere, but this is our house. Home. I don't want it here," Noodle watched his eyes carefully, blinking then a few times at the rough shadow of stubble on his chin, then at the bruises on his neck; she hadn't noticed those before, and backed away in disgust, shaking her head in what could only be disappointment. "I'll be on your ass," She warned, knowing that he still likely hadn't been persuaded. "Oh how lucky for me," Murdoc griped, finally relaxing his posture somewhat with Noodle's retreat. "May I go up to bed now then? Does her maj give me permission?" Noodle didn't bother replying; just for something to do, mainly, she was at the coffee maker now, getting ready to brew up a pot. "Coffee? What about sleep?" Murdoc questioned in regular tone, and Noodle was reminded of what had appeared to be concern earlier that night/morning. He continued to receive the silent treatment, however, and with some muttering, finally fucked off to his lair. Still feeling a strong desire to hit something, Noodle plopped onto the living room couch with her coffee. She was so tired every blink burned her eyes, and was wondering now why she hadn't just gone to sleep. Or why the fuck she made an entire pot of coffee. Fucking Murdoc getting her fucking angry and making her do stupid fucking things. "Noodle?" 2D's scratchy voice shocked her out of her stupor, the resulting jolt she gave causing a spill of burning hot coffee all over her thighs. Round black eyes watched as Noodle screamed out curses in Japanese, the girl throwing the rest of her coffee into the sink before storming out of the kitchen, still muttering to herself. 2D blinked, not sure what he had done wrong, exactly, but quite excited to see someone had made coffee. He grinned to himself, pouring about an inch of actual coffee into his special king-sized mug, before filling it the rest of the way up with cream and sugar. "Mmm," He muttered to himself after taking a sip through his tooth gap. For a few minutes he leaned against the counter, enjoying the cup of sugar and motes floating through the morning sunlight. It wasn't long before the front doorknob was rattling into the silence, however, and then Russel was coming back into the kitchen. "Oh, hey 'D," Russel greeted, 2D acknowledging him with a grin. "You up for breakfast? Had to come back here, forgetting my wallet like a fucking moron-, oh and you know why there's some woman sitting outside crying in our revered ‘band leader’s’ clothes? Dunno why I'm even asking..." Russel swept his eyes around the living room as he spoke, feeling around the couch cushions and such, evidently looking for his wallet. "Yeah, I could do breakfast," 2D downed the rest of his coffee, seeing a few spots afterwards at the sudden rush of sugar, "No idea about the bird in Murdoc's clothes, though." "Dumbass already got himself breaking house rules?" Russel had found his wallet by now; 2D looked a bit puzzled as the two made their way out of the kitchen. "Doesn't Murdoc make the house rules?" 2D yawned, causing Russel to cringe slightly. "I should fucking hope not, damn," He shook his head, equal parts disgusted at that image as well at how much of a fucking dumbass 2D could be sometimes. The two made their way out into the frosty morning, passing the still sobbing fling of Murdoc and bundling into Russel's car, the inside still nice and toasty from the heater. Russel turned on the radio (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KXdW0g6jAxE), and then they were cruising off down the street into the rising sun, the warm car and frosty sunlight leaving both dudes feeling quite good, for once.

Breakfast of Champions

2D is feeling old and Noodle just got back from a night drive with Murdoc which left her feeling even lonelier than usual. Unfortunately most people arent too coherent when on drugs.

"Ain't you seen, ain't you educated? Ain't you seen the movies, ay? Don't you know, this is the 'breakfast of champions,'" 2D held up the decorated pillbox to the sun, talking to no one in particular. He was going over a time in his head when their tour manager had been attempting to discourage him from partaking in the "breakfast of champions," having finally remembered however many months later which 1974 cult classic he'd been trying to quote. He'd woken up that morning at around 4:42am, not sure why, but filled with sleep-addled inspiration. It was around six now, and he was taking a break from his synthesizer to break a couple breakfast pills. Mainly because he'd caught sight of his reflection in the early morning light and seen what appeared to be yet another wrinkle of his forehead. Way back when, when his hair had been lighter blue and the bags under eyes really were JUST from sleep, the pills and other paraphernalia helped with things like headaches, stomachaches, drugs to help drug induced aches. These days it was drugs to help drug induced aging. It's not like he was old, he'd just never thought he'd have wrinkles on his forehead, that's all. He fell onto his bed, all long bony limbs (at least he hadn't gotten old enough to worry about his weight yet), and tucked himself under the bed covers, a fuzzy blue halo forming around his head as he sunk further into his pillow (also, thank the gods, his hair hadn't starting thinning or anything dreadful like that, but was quite as thick and blue as it'd always been). He hadn't been lying there too long, or he could’ve been lying there hours, who would know, breathing in the smoke-tinged air of his room, feeling his medicine fade away bad feelings both physical and emotional, when the door to his room creaked open. Slowly, eerily, and so suddenly breaking the quiet that 2D was off his bed and wielding some darts snatched from his wall before he even knew who it was. As if he needed to know; nothing good could be creaking his door open like in the middle of the night (which it was actually early morning). Whales couldn't walk, could they? "Oh, uh, hello?" Noodle was craning her head around the door, turning it curiously at 2D, who was oddly stood on his bed in what was supposed to be an attack stance, though it was hard to maintain on a mattress. "Fucking hell, Noodle, the fuck you tryna do?" 2D moaned, letting the darts fall from his overly large hands, only to plop down onto his bed and gouge his thigh on one. "FUCKING SOD!" He wailed, throwing the offending dart across the room where it ricocheted off the wall and took a good bit of plaster with it . "Fuck me," 2D rubbed his eyes wearily, wincing as he did so; they were constantly tender, even with however many narcotics currently floating around his system. He let his hands drop to his sides, long legs stretched out in front of him and head tilted back against the wall, jaw working and chest heaving as he caught his breath. "Can I speak now?" Noodle said after a small silence, during which 2D's breathing evened out and the dust from the broken plaster had settled. "You could always fucking speak. Maybe next time before opening the door like a sodding flesh eatin' zombie, yeah? Fucking hell," He made to rub his eyes again, steeling himself and settling for just a few hard blinks. "Bright in here," He commented, while Noodle just rolled her eyes, going over to his desk and lifting a few of the pillboxes he'd decorated with paintings, most of them of Murdoc, one sporting an evil looking whale. "You're still doing this as much as you used to?" She asked, shaking the pills at him. His black eyes squinted at her hand, before he held out one of his own, beckoning with his fingers. Noodle stepped closer to drop the box into his hand, after which he popped it open and swallowed a few more of whatever was inside before giving her a toothless grin, apparently quite pleased with himself. "Nope," Then he was laughing; usually it would've had Noodle laughing too, but she wasn't really feeling it. She took the pillbox out of 2D's limp hand, looking inside it while he continued to laugh, before snapping it shut and placing it back on his desk. No, that type of ride had never been her preference, despite (she glared) whatever Murdoc might think. "Oi, Noodle, Noodle s'that you?" 2D had suddenly taken on a rickety, weedy voice, and when Noodle looked over he was squinting at her intently, holding his shaking hands out like an old man. "Come on, m'love, these old eyes, you know," He beckoned her over then pretended as if he'd sprained his arm, "Ah! And these ol' bloody bones!" He then was cackling, which proceeded to turn into sobbing. Noodle watched him, slightly taken aback, but not exactly SURPRISED. She did go sit by him on the bed though, tentatively touching his shoulder which resulted in him throwing his entire body into her arms, sobbing harder than ever. Awkwardly, she linked her arms around him, trying her best to rearrange his bony ass which was digging painfully into her thighs. 2D might've been lean, but he was still over six feet tall, and by no means small. It was therefore quite difficult for someone of smaller stature to hold him like he was an infant, but he didn't seem aware. By the time he'd calmed down and rolled back, face down, onto his bed, Noodle had been elbowed in the chin no less than three times, and her legs had gone to sleep. "I'm fucking old, Noodle," 2D said into his pillow, his voice back to normal save perhaps a little more hoarse than usual. So that was it. He was feeling old. Noodle stretched herself out next to him, feeling a chill and throwing the covers over them both before replying. "Then Murdoc is ancient," She finally thought, laughing a little as 2D scoffed. "Fucking sod. He looks younger than me these days though, dunnee? How's that?" 2D sounded truly miserable, while Noodle had to silently agree with his statement; perhaps Murdoc had taken to sacrificing virgins in exchange for eternal youth. To be honest, nothing would surprise her these days. "Since when do you care about being old?" Noodle asked, turning her head to look at the mess of blue hair next to her. "Who doesn’t care about being old?" 2D wailed, fisting his hair and suddenly rolling onto his side; he blinked his large eyes at Noodle, who looked even younger to him now after seeing his own face moments earlier.

He moved onto his back, putting an arm behind his head and sighing up at the roof. Noodle mimicked his position, sensing he wasn't waiting for her to talk, but rather collecting his own thoughts. Sure enough, he spoke after a bit of silence. 

"Dunno why, but something about it felt eternal, know what I mean?" 2D said, gesturing around, his words coming out a bit stalled, like he wasn't saying them how he wanted. "This whole Gorillaz thing, maybe, is what I'm getting at. Getting Old, that never seemed like it'd be part of the ride, get it?" He choked off at the end, shoving his hands into his face and stifling a wail. Noodle didn't really know what to say to him. She knew most people her age felt old, but truthfully she never really cared about that. She'd always felt mature, no matter what age, and the number of age itself didn't really matter to her. Age depended more on your mind, rather than body, at least as far as she was concerned. The dark circles she'd acquired as she'd aged were sort of cool, at least, she thought so. 2D didn't seem at all impressed with the toll time was taking on his body. Noodle glanced at him; he’d shut his eyes now and seemed to be ready to go to sleep; he didn't really look old to her. "You don't look old to me," She said, flicking the end of his nose; he reached up and swatted at nothing, muttering something about 'little devils' without opening his eyes; Noodle sighed and laid back against the headboard, listening to the birds starting to awake outside the windows. Suddenly, 2D was flinging back the covers and rolling off the bed, coming to a rest on the floor with his knees to his chest and his head in his hands; Noodle had bolted up, chest heaving and having been so startled by the sudden movement she was about to shout his ear off. "Noodle, m' sorry, blud," He was speaking before she could, however; his voice had toned down to normal, giving no hints that he was under the influence of any drugs whatsoever; he sounded tired, and a little bored. "Isn't really fit, you to be in here, while I'm a mess meself," 2D lifted his head, and by watching carefully Noodle saw the deep red points in the black of his eyes shift over to her. "Maybe in the morning we can get some ice cream or something, yeah? M'too bloody tired now," His head fell back against the bed, where he seemed to be slowly slipping out of consciousness. Noodle was about to remind him that it was, in fact, already morning, but thought against it as her flare up of anger abated. He obviously needed to sleep his pills off. She didn't feel like leaving just yet, however. She didn't want to be alone, and the unconscious 2D was actually quite perfect company, since she no longer felt much like speaking, either. His breathing had evened out, signifying that he had indeed passed out, and she flopped onto her stomach near his head, taking some blue hair in her hands and beginning to braid it. The birds continued to sing outside the window, and upstairs she could hear Russel moving around his room. By the time the sunlight had reached through the windows, 2D's head was a mess of braids.

Night Call

Takes place after 4:42am. Murdoc and Noodle go for a drive resolving nothing as usual

Noodle shut her eyes, falling back against the front door and working her bottom lip between her teeth. Alright, she couldn't leave Murdoc’s jacket on the stoop. It was too much of a mirror of that immature behavior she was determined to let them all know she'd grown out of. She swung the door back open, picked up the leather jacket, was about to go back inside, but upon turning found herself face to face with Murdoc himself. "Let's go." Noodle blinked at the extended, pale green hand, following its leatherclad arm upwards to the glinting red eye of Murdoc, his hair swaying slightly in the wind. "Go where?" She asked warily, backing up a little; there hadn't been much space between them, she having turned almost directly into the doorframe. "On a drive. Somewhere. I don't know, just not back in there," He gestured over his shoulder with his thumb, waggling the fingers of his other hand at her invitingly, "Put that back on," He didn't wait for her to do so, but rather took his jacket and tucked it around her shoulders as he'd done earlier; he now wore a similar leather one over his stripes. "And let's go," The hold Murdoc got around her closed fingers was forceful, he pretty much dragged Noodle to the car, though not like she couldn't have broken free if she so desired. Opening and shutting the door for and behind her, Murdoc rolled over the hood like the young-old man he was to get to the driver's side, and despite herself Noodle had to work her mouth very hard to keep from grinning. She'd gotten herself under control by the time Murdoc had thrown himself into the driver's seat. He started the engine, pausing to light a cigarette, then light hers, then pulled them out into the street. "Here," Murdoc held up the auxiliary cable; though new, the car wasn't exactly new. "Oh damn it, I left mine-," Noodle was patting at her pockets, which were actually Murdoc's pockets; typically her iPod was on her even when sleeping. "Get the spare in the glove box," Once again giving instruction only to follow it himself, Murdoc leaned over and banged open the glove box, retrieving an original 80GB iPod and dropping it into Noodle's hands. She smiled slightly as she plugged it in, looking through the endless lists of artists, many of which she recognized, many she did not. "Didn't know there was a spare." "I'm constantly losing the sodding thing. Only a matter of time until I lose this one too, but until then, we have music," Murdoc's lips curved into a grin as Noodle made her choice (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MV_3Dpw-BRY), the Sound filling the car, forcing them to roll down the windows and let in the icy air. He kicked the driving up a notch then, Noodle’s choice fitting perfectly with the dim streetlights and dark alleys just asking for it. By a normal driver's standards this was kicking it up by about a hundred notches; they sped through a tunnel so fast the echoing roar of the engine almost drowned out the music, the turn back out into the night nearly tipping the car. It being so late, or being so early to be more accurate, the streets were empty. Murdoc blazed trails though the entire city, over bridges, through fancy neighborhoods, finally reaching the outskirts and continuing into the countryside. They sped through the small forest overlooking the city out into the farmlands past, Noodle hanging as far out the window as she could to stare up at the sky where the stars were brightest. They went far, but with Murdoc driving it didn't seem too long of a drive, and finally they began to slow down, having come to a dead end on whatever country road they were on. Noodle plopped back into her seat, looking at Murdoc inquisitively. "You didn't bring me out to partake in one of your weird-ass Satanic rituals, did you?" Noodle asked, resulting in a scoff from Murdoc. "Noodle please," He shook his head, turning off the car and twirling the keys into his pocket, "I couldn't trust anyone but myself with something like that," He winked, leaving Noodle to sit on that in the time it took for him to open her door. She then realized that he'd opened her door. "I can get it, you know-," "Yeah whatever, different times, different habits," Murdoc was lighting another cigarette, already walking off towards the end of the road and the beginning of a field, where a low hanging chain was evidently supposed to double as some kind of barrier. A rusted red and white sign hung on it bearing the words: Private Property, NO TRESPASSING. Murdoc's evil grin stretched across his face; he kicked the sign with a Cuban heeled boot. "Mm, would you look at that," He was building up the suspense, but it was all sort of ruined by Noodle just walking over the chain in extreme nonchalance, shrugging at Murdoc's gaping, appalled look and continuing on through the field. He shut his mouth and ran a hand through his hair, somewhat angry that she hadn't waited on him to build up the moment. If you were gonna break a law, any law, no matter how small, you do it right. He had half a mind to run back to the car and burn rubber out of there, leaving her stranded, but didn't want to deal with whatever repercussions there'd be when she made it back to the house. Therefore, he followed after her. He would at least decide where they stopped. A ways into the field, a delipidated chainlink fence stood, guarding a sharp cut off of the hill into a gorge below. Far off below were the twinkling lights of the city, and above the twinkling lights of the stars. Multi-colored to silver. Artificial to natural. There was something extremely poignant there, though he couldn't think how to put it in lyricism yet. He'd have to come back later. Murdoc leaned against the chain, surprised it didn't just lean with him under his weight. He watched Noodle for a bit; she was off in the middle of the field, staring up at the stars with her hands in his pockets. Whether she was purposefully milling around out there to annoy him, he didn’t know, but it was a few minutes of stargazing, or whatever she was doing, before she finally came and joined him on the fence. "Got one for me?" She indicated his cigarette, and Murdoc gave her one, feeling some of those bad feelings he'd felt earlier on the stoop as he did so. Another small silence as they both smoked it away, dawn slowly growing brighter. It was still dark, though. Dark enough. "Smoking is bad, you know," He couldn't just not say anything about it; or, he could, but it made the bad chest feelings nag more insistently; even still, a statement like that coming from him sounded sarcastic any way you looked at it, maybe he’d even meant it to. Noodle laughed then, looking at him comically. "Just saying, love, doesn't seem to fit with the whole, 'perfect self' routine you have going on." Noodle laughed a bit more to herself, shaking her head and looking out at the city, gripping the fence with her free hand. She didn't want to reply to that. He'd never been the type to settle, however. "Neither does breaking down over pancakes, come to think of it. Or being up so late making pancakes, for that matter. Or the not sleeping for more than an hour a time deal, going out late, sneaking into 2D's room when he's not there to rifle through his pillboxes-," "So what are you trying to say?" Noodle spat, finally having been drawn out; they were both hotheads, a fact both of them were acutely aware of. "What I'm trying to say is look at you," Murdoc brushed Noodle's hair away from her profile, causing her to instinctivly flinch away and push back his hand. "How long has it been since you've slept more than four hours a night?" He asked, letting his hand drop; Noodle glared at him. "Suddenly concerned?" That sounded whiny; she glared herself into a unfocused fog. Murdoc laughed to himself, shaking his head and staring out through the links in the chain. "Not suddenly." Too caring? He inhaled deep, feeling his face get slightly warm. It was Noodle's turn to laugh now, and Murdoc threw her a glare when she did, anger nipping at his insides, like it always did. "I'm not your fucking dad, Noodle, never was-," "Oh believe me, I know," Noodle cut him off, deeply inhaling on her cigarette, using it to collect her thoughts a bit. They weren’t her parents. None of them. But it was times like these, times like staying up till 4:42am to make pancakes, that had her hating the lot of them. Because she knew, she just knew, that she would’ve done things differently. She would’ve done things, for one; outside of actual band activities, recording, touring, and the like, she didn’t have strong memories of them. When the four had been at home, they all did their own thing. She’d raised herself, basically, and was currently feeling that hatred any child would at what was supposed to be a father figure, but was really the exact opposite. For some reason that annoyance seemed to manifest itself most deeply in Murdoc. Why? Because he was the oldest? The most intelligent? ...Intelligent to an extent, anyway. She didn't even know, herself.   "You think the meditation and shit counteracts something like this?" Murdoc flicked her cigarette with his own, and she shrugged, drawn out of her thoughts. "A bit funny, I do think, that you take such pride in your spiritual health, and physical to an extent, yet still need a cigarette every now and then." "How could I not, being around-," "Three morons like us, right," Murdoc finished, shaking his head and puffing out some more smoke. "2D and Russel aren't morons," Noodle said, quitely yet still full of venom; he shut his eyes, alright, THAT one might've hurt just a little. He watched the embers of his cigarette, an orange glow in the dark, took another puff with a new gust of cold air blowing right through his jacket. "Don't see either of them here now," Murdoc finally said, grinning slightly to himself at being right in this no matter what she may try and say. There was nothing for Noodle to say, however. It was a true statement. She couldn't picture trespassing into a field and stopping for a smoke against a chain link fence overlooking the city with anyone but Murdoc, to be completely honest, and she hated that truth as much as she liked it. There was a silence, during which both of them finished their cigarettes then turned to lean against the fence. They were facing the sunrise; the whole sky was now a sort of dusky purple, the first rays of morning bleeding in orange. Noodle itched to light another cigarette, for without one there was the pressure to focus more attention on each other. Murdoc seemed perfectly comfortable, but she'd been exuding a vulnerability their entire time together that she wasn't at all fond of. Yet she didn't know what to do to get rid of it. It's not like it'd be proper to just suddenly start bragging about how she wasn't this searching, lost girl he seemed to think she was. Didn't he? She resisted laughing to herself; who WASN'T inferior to Murdoc? Still, she'd always thought they were sort of on the same level, hoped he felt that way too. She realized now she really wasn't sure what he thought of her. "Breakfast?" He suddenly broke the silence, causing Noodle to flinch slightly, she'd been so lost in thought. In typical fashion he was ending any potential breach into the gray area that was their conflicts and emotions. Noodle glared at him, even though he wasn't looking, before sighing and giving a shrug. Maybe it was the best way. Maybe it was the only way even; was there anyone even alive who’d ever had a heart to heart with Murdoc? She laughed slightly at the thought.  "Guess I'm a little hungry." "Since the pancakes didn't turn out?" There was laughter in his voice, and despite it all Noodle couldn't help but smile a bit as well. She gave him a shove in the shoulder, and there was some laughing and pushing about as they made their way back to the car. It got a bit awkward when Murdoc put his arm around her shoulder, a friendly enough gesture had the two of them actually been friends. He let go quickly, coughing a bit to avoid an awkward silence and not bothering to open her door this time. Noodle rested her arms against the open window frame as they reversed, enjoying the cold air against her hot face, focusing her attention on the steadily disappearing stars and growing daybreak. She felt a tap on her leg, turning to see Murdoc once again holding out the auxiliary cable, still attached to his spare iPod. She took it with a small smile.

4:42am

Noodle wants pancakes and it turns into feeling down and blue. Murdoc doesnt know why some people cant be as good at No Feelings as he is.

4:42am. What was the most logical thing to be doing? Making cinnamon sugar apple pancakes of course. With cardamom! It was one of those nights. One of those nights where you know at 4:42pm that you're not going to have slept at all by 4:42am. Where by 12:20am you're sitting in the shower, trying to steam out the shadows under your eyes and blocking in your sinuses. By 1:00am maybe you're lying in bed, or on the couch or somewhere watching videos of food on your phone. An hour later, trying to sleep, then getting up to smoke on the balcony, then, still thinking about the food videos, searching for recipes at around 3:30am, and finally, at 4:42am, trying one out. Yeah, it was one of those nights for Noodle. She was just adding perhaps too much cardamom to the otherwise pristine bowl of measured ingredients when a rough groan had her flinching and therefore definitely adding too much cardamom. She didn't turn around, knowing by the tone who it was, but gritted her teeth and began trying to remove as much of the overspicing as she could. She was hoping he'd just go back to sleep on the couch in the connecting living room, which had to have been where he'd passed out, but some shifting sounds followed by stilled silence had her guessing he'd sat up and spotted her. More shifting and then nearing footsteps confirmed that. She just craned more heavily over the bowl, fingers absently stirring the flour as she waited to see what he was up to. The fridge door opened, a bottle cap popped, and the fridge door shut again. She could feel him standing as he drank, feel his eyes on her. She finally turned her head, slowly, to give him a look. And a shrug, slight headshake, gesturing hand, all summing up the classic *what*? of someone being caught making cinnamon sugar apple pancakes at 4:42am. The one red eye glinted strangely as it often did as he shrugged back, going over and sitting at the bar stool to have a more comfortable view. Noodle watched him, aggravated but not in the least bit surprised. "Gonna sit there and watch, yeah?" She threw out, turning back to the bowl of ingredients; it was hard to tell what was cardamom and what wasn't now. "Thought I might," Murdoc's voice was just as abrasive and callous as it'd always been, though there was a familiarity there that Noodle couldn't deny was comforting. In the oddest way possible, it was all comforting. The four of them living together like this again. Coming full circle after years of (above average) insanity. She wondered how long it'd be before she missed that. The "being alone and missing everyone" shtick. With Murdoc sabotaging her midnight pancake making, she thought she might already be there. There was some silence as she tried her best to ignore him, knowing full well what he wanted was for her let the anger rise so he could sit there in contentment while she fumed before finally leaving the kitchen herself. No, she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of being first to exit. She was gonna finish the damn pancakes first, at least. Only, she never knew until that night just how bad she was at making pancakes. True, she hadn't made them before, but it was *pancakes*, how hard could it be? Apparently very. Noodle felt her face going red as the first one into the pan, upon being flipped, let its blackened surface unleash a wave of smoke into her face, sending her into coughing fits. She quickly covered the burnt offender in a cup-towel while behind her, Murdoc chuckled darkly. Unable to steel herself, Noodle whirled and threw the soggy mess into the asshole's face. Of course, he saw it coming and ducked, running a hand back through his thick black hair and continuing to laugh to himself. "Keep that up and I won't show you how it's done," Murdoc spoke lazily, taking another drink of his- whatever it was- while Noodle just glared. She could do everything well, and very rarely was met with a block. It did happen, however, though for it to happen in *front* of someone was just the worst kind of embarrassment. Especially when that someone was one of the three people she always sought hardest to impress. So far, she'd managed to keep all past failures secrets, though there was a close call when 2D found some scrunched up failed origami piled in the trashcan when he'd been rifling through it looking for his "lucky cigarette butt." That close call had been over fifteen years ago, and it still haunted her to this day, even with her origami skills having improved to the master level they were at currently. She couldn't imagine the teasing that would've followed had any three of her band mates learned the Japanese girl couldn't even do origami. She doubted even Russel would have been sympathetic. Noodle pulled herself out of the war flashbacks of origami failure, tuning back into the present and what Murdoc had just said. That dirty old man was claiming he knew how to cook? She didn't even bother to reply to him, just scoffed and poured in the next spoonful of batter. Determined not to burn this one, she flipped it about a minute too early, and it tore in half, the more done half flying across the kitchen and landing with a SlpALt where Murdoc's bottle had been a second before. How did that even happen? She hadn't flipped it that hard. She turned to look at him where he sat, bottle aloft and holder watching her in bored expectation. She couldn't bring herself to ask for help, but rather held out her spatula to him with averted eyes. She wanted the damn pancakes pretty damn bad. "Mmm, no," Murdoc rose, finishing his drink and tossing it into the recycle bin as he started towards the archway. Of course he did. "Come on, Murdoc," Noodle whined, putting her head in hands; all she wanted was some damn pancakes, she needed the fucking pancakes! She heard him pause, then yawn and stretch lazily. She sort of fucking hated him right now. After he showed her how to make the damn pancakes she figured she'd pack up and leave and never return. Though then he'd probably have her gassed and mailed back or whatever the hell had happened with 2D however many years ago. Huh, as if. She'd like to see him try. "Just tell me, you don't need to waste any time-," Noodle began, but Murdoc was already leaning against the counter by the stove, stifling a yawn as he spoke. "Pour some more in," He instructed, and she quickly did as was told, eager for him to be gone as soon as possible and to have this entire pancake-making ordeal be over. "Now look," He pointed with one long, pale green finger, admittedly less dirty these days. "Wait for the bubbles..." They both waited for the bubbles. "It's gonna burn-," "Flip." Noodle flipped, and a perfectly browned, perfectly round pancake landed in the pan. Her eyes widened; in truth she'd been expecting the old man to sabotage her once more. "Now wait a bit," Murdoc's gaze was fixed on the pancake, his hand held out to halt, "Alright." He put his hand down, and Noodle flipped the pancake onto the plate she'd got out, repressing a camp cheer of delight at the other side which was just as wonderfully brown as the first. "Bob's your uncle," Murdoc pushed off the counter, once again headed towards the archway. "You didn't want any, did you?" Noodle called, as a way of thanks, because actually saying "thank you" would've been going way overboard. "Mmm, no," Murdoc's voice sounded from down the hall; he'd already gone. Noodle had gotten all she needed though, and was soon sat down at the bar stool with a hot plate of hotcakes in front of her. They did smell a bit strong; not really akin to the smoothness of apples and cinnamon. Sure enough, the first bite was an assault of gumdrop-esque spice, really disgustingly inedible. Too much cardamom. Noodle sat in silence for all of 3 seconds before hurling the stack of pancakes at the wall, watching them splatter against the peeling paint with actual tears welling in her eyes. Being bad at something, getting coached on it, and still failing, was quite possibly her worst nightmare. Not sleeping for however long did nothing to help with an emotional breakdown. What started at pancakes quickly escalated to life in general, till Noodle was slumped over the counter with silent tears running down her cheeks and thoughts of why anything mattered at all weighed down her mind. She blinked at the tiles, wondering why she hadn't grown out of feeling this way every so often. Then she thought of Murdoc and 2D,  and yeah, even Russel (maybe even especially Russel), at how much older they all were, and how they were even worse than her most days. Her face scrunched up once more. "Too much cardamom?" Noodle jumped up so fast her knees banged into the bar; the doubled over pain was nothing compared to the emotional at being discovered now crying over pancakes by Murdoc. Truthfully, Murdoc himself didn't know why he was even back in the kitchen. He certainly didn't know why he was inquiring after Noodle, for a crying woman was something he did his best to avoid. With his life. Thought hadn't really gone into it, he realized; he heard her crying, and came back to fix it. He could think about the why later, like when-she-wasn't-crying later. The crying bothered him. Extremely. And when she looked up with the wet, red eyes, he had to manually go over in his head why he could not go over and hug her head to his chest until all the bad thoughts were out of it. Number one cuz it'd be fucking weird. Weird-er, anyway, than him being here at all. Cigarettes! Cigarettes fix everything! And, he retrieved some beers from the fridge, le booze. "Come on, love," Murdoc said gruffly, feeling like even that was a bit weird, even though he'd used it since he'd known her; time broke things more often than it healed them. Noodle looked at the preferred beer. Deciding things couldn't get much worse, she took it, then let one of Murdoc's large hands place a cigarette between her lips and light it. "Outside," Noodle demanded; despite the fact all four of them smoked often, it still wouldn't' do to do it in the house. Moments later Murdoc was shutting the door behind them as both took seats on the stoop of the house. It was a clear night, wintry silence punctuated by the whooshing of distant cars and some dulled synth sounds floating out of 2D's open upper story window. Did any of them ever sleep? It was cold; Noodle pulled her long sleeves down, sitting on the steps and looking out at nothing. "Are you going to be warm enough?" It was an obvious no, and Murdoc didn't wait for the contradictory answer, shrugging out of his leather jacket before tossing it onto Noodle's much smaller shoulders. She flinched out of habit of being near anything of Murdoc's. These days, however, he seemed to take more baths, or something, because another characteristic he seemed to have lost was his rankness. The jacket was heavy, still warm with his body heat; Noodle slipped into it and found that it smelled like worn leather and cigarettes, and somehow like his warmth as well. Surprisingly not unpleasant, even familiar in a way. Apparently he'd always had a decent smell under all the bad hygiene. She looked over at him, now leaned back against the railing in only his thin striped sweater. Noodle knew him well enough to know that he wouldn't relinquish anything if it brought discomfort on himself, and pulled the jacket tighter around herself. Murdoc didn't really know what was getting into him tonight. Tough as he was, he wasn't immune to things like freezing weather. He'd already given Noodle the jacket though, not like he could just ask for it back. He settled for burning his lungs in the hopes maybe he'd warm from the inside, exhaling smoke through his busted nose and leaning his head back against the rails now, mismatched eyes drifting closed. He wondered how long he'd have to sit out here before he'd feel comfortable leaving. Her tears weren't even dry on her face yet, though thank sweet Satan she'd stopped the crying. He supposed he could just leave her to it now, really, he'd gotten her a beer a cigarette after all. And now his bloody jacket. Going inside and idly plucking away at his bass while lamenting over his life choices seemed all the more preferable with the arrival of another gust of cold wind against his face. Noodle watched Murdoc's hair ruffle in the wind, smoke pouring out his mouth and nose in waves. No words were coming to her as they both sat there, smoking away and both slowly freezing to death. Noodle was waiting for him to get up and go inside, while Murdoc sat awaiting the same thing from her. It was pretty awkward, all things considered. Out of the lights, the sound, and drugged up intoxication, they didn't really have much in common. But at the same time seemed to be very alike. Why else would they both have been awake at 4:42am? Noodle guessed it must've been around an hour past that now. The sun would probably be rising soon. "Alright?" Murdoc suddenly asked; it took Noodle a minute to remember why he was asking; she felt her face color once more. "Yeah. I, ah, I don't know what happened really, to get me so-," "Happens, love," Murdoc snubbed out his fifth cigarette and stood up, giving a stretch before turning towards the door. "Murdoc?" Noodle's asking before she can stop herself. He already doesn't like where this is going from the tone of her small voice, and debates just pretending he didn't hear her and going inside. He already stopped walking, though. "Mmm?" "Does it-, do things, like, get better?" Noodle muttered, not sure why she's asking Murdoc this but also knowing she doesn't really have anyone else to ask. He shut his eyes, feeling a sudden jab in his chest at hearing that. She's too young for it. He really wished he'd just gone inside. He still could, he should, years ago he's sure he would. Have. He can feel her eyes on his back, hears the whooshing cars in the distance, and that bloody moron's synthesizer. Feels cold all over himself, that tightness of the smoke in his chest. He had his hand on the doorknob, and turned it slowly, feeling resignation. "Dunno what you mean, love," He chuckled lowly, his confidence returning with his facade; when it comes down to it he's a true artist at shutting everything all out, "Things seems pretty great from where I'm standing." Then he's going inside, and Noodle's left alone on the stoop; 2D's synth has even stopped now. She sits in the cold, finishing her cigarette. Murdoc's falseness wasn't surprising, but a part of her had hoped maybe there'd been a breach in... something. She snubs out the embers of her cigarette in her fingers, wincing at the brief pain before dusting the tobacco and ashes off her hands and getting to her feet. Murdoc's jacket is shrugged off and left on the stoop, and as the front door closes, the first rays of dawn etch the horizon.