Manic's life has gone to crap. With the theft of a nostalgic pendant, everything in his life seems to have gone for the worse. And then another mean, green hedgehog came into his life...
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The city of Mobotropolis was the idyllic kind of city every country strives to have. Modern skyscrapers, decades old architecture, and quaint little stores and cafes all existed in harmony with one another, filling the city with many clashing aesthetics and countless opportunities. Daytime was colored by a cloudless sun and the bustling residents, and nighttime was painted with neon signs and grand parties. Streets were clean, new stores and opportunities were always on their way... As far as cities go, Mobotropolis was virtually perfect.
This does not take place in the prettier parts of Mobotropolis.
Scourge and Fiona drove down a rougher part of the city. Not a terrible place to live - Residents took care of their houses alright, and many small businesses gave the area plenty of personality. But this is the part of town that street sweepers and city planning always seemed to look over. No matter what the residents tried to do, it would always end up filthy again, whether they like it or not. The car ride through the area was very long and very loud. They sped past so quickly, no one standing by the road could hear more than a few words of what they were yelling about, until they abruptly stopped in front of a small grocery store.
"Get out."
Fiona looked straight ahead, avoiding Scourge's stare. With bright red fur and dark red hair, she'd be striking enough on her own. But everything she wore was just as eye catching. Bright yellow hair bow half the size of her head. Gold colored halter top. Black choker. Black pants. And - would you believe it? - Black shoes. Everything about her stance, her appearance, and her voice implied total, consuming fury, barely being contained.
Scourge didn't balk at her request. "Keep driving." He spat out. He didn't look nearly as eye-searingly bright as Fiona, but he was striking in his own way. Normally, he'd be pretty plain as far as appearances go. Dark green quills, blue jeans, ratty shoes that he's clearly had for too long, very much what you'd expect. But his chest was covered with an old but well-loved leather jacket, complete with flashy and really pretty ugly flame patches on the shoulders.
But weirdest of all was his eyes. Oh, his eyes themselves were pretty plain - a really close shade of green to his clothes. But this punk, this violent guy in a leather jacket, was wearing eyeshadow. Bright red eyeshadow and light mascara. It wasn't sloppily applied or worn begrudgingly. No, to Scourge, a guy wearing makeup was completely passable. Not that he was particularly feminine to begin with.
"I said get OUT!" She screamed this time. Scourge only faced her, more angry than he was before. "This is what I was talking about! You can't even pretend to listen to me when I'm angry!"
"Hey! I listen plenty!" He barked.
Fiona waited a moment, then calmed down. "Alright, then listen closely." She reached over Scourge's body, opened the passenger side door, and grabbed the steering wheel again. "Get out, dear."
Fiona gave Scourge a strong shove with both hands. Without a seat belt to secure him, he tumbled out like a sack of flour. The moment he was out of the car, Fiona was already closing his door.
"Good boy! Now, since you can 'outrun any of us slow bastards,' why don't you prove it to me, and get to the motel before me? Can you do that, baby?" Every word was said with a big grin, dripping with as much passive aggression as she could muster.
Scourge was still clutching his chest when he stood up. By then, his scratched-up red convertible was already speeding down the road. Scourge could have screamed then and there... could have. For once, she didn't dump him by some miles long stretch of corn by the highway. No, this was a supermarket. More importantly, it was a supermarket with a handful of cars in front of it. Just hop in one of them, and he could easily get there before Fiona ever would. "Alright, which of you's gonna take me home?" He said to no one in particular.
A dark green compact car? Nah, too old. This must have been made in the seventies. Can't be seen in that thing.
A grey SUV? With a handicap license plate? As terrible as Scourge was, he wasn't going to take a whole car from someone physically handicapped. That's a whole other brand of evil.
A black mom car? Not with a yapping Border Collie in the back, he's not.
A silver van with a few missing windows and bumper stickers for several good bands? Perfect.
Hot-wiring a car wouldn't be anything new to Scourge, but this was childishly easy. There was no drivers side window. The keys were lefts in the ignition. The gas had recently been filled. This couldn't have been an easier job if the owner had told Scourge they were free to take their car. With a turn of the key, Scourge was pulling out of the parking lot, driving down the same road Fiona had left down.
"Alright, now where the hell are we?" Scourge wasn't good with street names at all, but wherever he was? No idea, but it didn't matter. It doesn't matter what she thought he did, you don't shove Scourge the Hedgehog out of his own car. Not on the side of the highway. Not in farmer whoever's corn fields. And not in some weird part of town. He'd find that hotel eventually.
Five minutes passed.
Ten more minutes passed.
It was official, Scourge had no idea where he was going. Every turn he thought felt familiar brought him somewhere else he didn't recognize. Frustrated, he stood outside his car, and finally let out that scream he'd been holding in. "DeeeeaaAAAAAAUGHH!" Slightly less pissed off, he turned back to his car, only to face a handful of suburbanites sitting in their yards, clearly frightened by this random green dude screaming. He walked up to the person closest to him, a little old lady sitting in her yard.
"Lady! You know where the Cornerstone Motel is?"
"The Cornerstone?" She said in a surprisingly high, squeaky voice. "Why are you looking here? That's on the other side of the city."
All expression in Scourge's eyes voided, which the old lady definitely noticed. "Go on the interstates off exit 168, and get off at exist 178." She was clearly shaken.
Without a second of hesitation, Scourge jumped back into the driver's side, and sped off as quickly as his old convertible could manage. Oh, he was still pissed beyond belief, but he had a goal for once. If only he had...
...Music! If their bumper stickers say anything, whoever owns this car has pretty good taste. With a push of a button, the ancient CD player roared to life with a familiar riff.
"Yyyyeeeeeaa-he-heeeaaaaah!" He couldn't help but let out a laugh as it started playing. Maybe it's because he was so pissed off, but hearing a song that familiar was like seeing an old friend for the first time in years.
It's a total eclipse The moon's overtaken the sun
He knew every line of this horrible, trashy, poorly-composed eighties song by heart. The singer hadn't even finished singing 'Eclipse', and he was already belting the lyrics.
It's a total eclipse You're coming to grips
"You'll be left in the shadows!" He screamed out, adding his own styling to the last note, and carrying it on way longer than he should have. He was so loud, he almost missed a weird distortion to the vocal track. Why's she sound so low? He thought.
Cause I've got Universal appeal
It was there again, that weird vocal problem. "Eh? The original vocalists are there. Is that some extra chick? Why's that voice so loud?"
Universal appeal
The extra voice we very loud this time. It only took a moment for Scourge to come to the correct, horrible conclusion.
Scourge snapped his head around to check the back of the car. In the back seat of his stolen car was some green guy under a blanket, barely awake and singing the lyrics unconsciously. His voice was actually very good, given that he was half awake and had just been accidentally kidnapped.
"Holy sh-!" Scourge screamed, instinctively swerving for a moment before focusing on the road. Once he was straightened again, he looked back at the guy in the back seat. He was lime green, and his hair was weird as hell. Holy hell, He thought. He's actually kind of cute... But fuck, that hair is terrible. He's asleep, not like it matters, he thought.
"Dude, why'd you turn it off?" Manic mumbled. "We were just getting to the good part."
Manic slowly sat up, fighting every instinct to go back to sleep. Scourge, frightened to all hell, pulled the car over as quickly as he could manage. He hadn't reached the highway yet, so he ended up parking in the large empty patch of grass next to some quiet stretch of road. His travel companion seemed completely unaffected.
"Dang, I can't even remember last night. Do I know you...?"
Once the car was stopped, Scourge tried desperately to come up with an excuse. His mind raced, his hands grew sweaty. All he could do was stare at this kid and hope he wouldn't catch on. I don't know! What the hell! I guess I have to say I know this kid? He thought desperately. "I-"
"Ooooooooh!" Manic shot up, suddenly full of energy. "You're seating my car!"
There was a long pause. When the reality of what happened hit Manic, he didn't get angry or show fear. No, he just slumped a bit. "Oh, dude... that's not cool." He finally said.
"Aren't- Why aren't you scared?!" Scourge screamed again.
"Nah, don't worry about it." He said, more sighing than talking. He didn't sound disappointed, more bemused and tired. "These last two months have been all kinds of weird. This is like normal now, dude."
Another wordless pause.
"But that really isn't cool. You don't steal a car. It's like someone's baby! You wouldn't steal someone's baby."
"Kid, are you off? You want this thing back?" He finally said.
"Oh, dude, do you need a drive somewhere?" Manic raised his right hand, and pointed his thumb behind him. "I can drive you there. I ain't got anywhere I need to be."
At this point, Scourge was done with everything. As though everything he thought was true was suddenly wrong. With this green kid, clearly nothing he knew about rational emotional behavior was going to do him any good. Fear first sent him careening into anger, and then ascending far past fury, far beyond petrification, beyond confusion of any kind, and finally stopping at an emotional void, somehow feeling all these emotions and yet none.
"You're just gonna- gonna your carjacker where he wants to go, kid?" Scourge said, exasperated. "Are you simple? Are you that simple?"
Manic gave a cheesy grin and shrugged. "Manic the worst hergehorg. C'mon, lemme get in the front seat."
Better than walking, Scourge eventually thought. The two stepped out onto the grass. No one this stupid could be malicious, right? As soon as Scourge sat in the passenger side seat, he reclined his seat back, and relaxed his legs on the dashboard. One of his hands was left lazily hanging on his chest.
Manic "Alright, pal, where're we going?"
"You know where the Cornerstone Motel is?"
"Oh, dude, you know you're kind of far-"
"I know!" Scourge kicked his foot on the dashboard. Scourge held up his hands pretty quickly.
"Okay, okay, sorry, dude." Manic said. He pressed his shoe on the gas and started pulling back onto the road. "You want some tunes?"
Scourge nodded in response. "Yeeeeeeeah," Manic added. In a moment, horrible 80's pop music flooded the car once again. Scourge had more than enough he wanted to ask this weird, WEIRD kid, but the power of synth was slowly taking over.
"Who are you?" Scourge finally asked, clearly uncomfortable.
"I told you, Manic the worst hargharg."
"No, WHO Are you? You just had your car stolen, why aren't you scared?!"
"I'm scared all the time. Uh... No, I'm anxious all the time? And all kinds of crap happens to me." He shrugged again. "Sometimes, being happy and dumb's better than screaming, you know?" The two finally got onto the highway, and started the drive across the city.
"'All the time'?! How often can you get carjacked?"
Manic waved a hand in denial. "Oh, noooo, no, not carjacking. Uuuuuh... Like, a while back, I flirted with this one girl, but she got angry and punched me in the face. Then I flirted with this horse guy she was with, but he also punched me in the face." He looked directly at Scourge, grinning wide. "I kinda get punched in the face a lot."
For the first time, Scourge noticed the huge chip in Manic's front teeth. Not that he seemed to care that much.
"You flirted with some chick and her boyfriend?" Scourge laughed. "You were asking for it, buddy."
"Aaaaw, don't I know it." Manic said jokingly.
"I've been there, but you're too calm about being kidnapped, kid. Have a spine."
"What do you mean, you've been there?" Manic asked.
Scourge responded by unzipping his jacket. He would have a perfect, healthy build under there if it weren't for two long, straight scars straight across the abs. They were clearly relatively recent, as they were still a light, fleshy pink. "Stay outta trouble before you get messed up, kid."
"Ooooh shooooot, how old is that thing?"
"Not old enough." Scourge zipped up his jacket again. "Shit happens."
"Oh, right!" Manic smacked his forehead. "I almost forgot, there was also that time I got robbed!"
"Right now?"
"No, like, before right now! Uuuuh... Like, right after I got punched in the face twice!" Once again, he gave Scourge a full view of his chipped front tooth. "Guess who was one of the first victims of Plague Reflux?"
"That a bad metal album?" Scourge questioned.
"No, It's like... They're these thieves that are traveling everywhere and robbing a bunch of jewelry places and... like, not jewelry places? You know, snobby stores. And they have these really ugly outfits. Anyways, one of 'em held me at gunpoint."
This did not answer any questions. Scourge shot up in his seat, and glared. "Gunpoint?"
"Yeeeaah!" Manic said, halfway between talking and laughing. "Right to the head! And all they wanted was... Ahh, it was some cheap necklace."
"Then why'd they point a gun at your head?!"
"It looked fancy? My sister gave me this whole drum-shaped necklace when I was a kid? It looks all expensive, but... Eeeeh, it's worthless!" He laughed again. He faced the driver side window, looking blankly at the sky. He sighed and said, "Damn, I miss that thing..."
The two of them said nothing for a while. The comment made the already awkward air even heavier, and neither of them knew what to say, so they sat in silence for what felt like a while.
...Until they both remembered there was still music playing.
HHHEHEHAAAAAAAIIII'MMM TAAAKING A TRAIN TAAAAAKING A TRAIN TAAAAKING A TRAAAAAIIIIEIEIEIEIIEIIIIIIIINNNNN
"Who the hell is this singer?" Scourge asked. Calling her a singer was a generous compliment. Calling this a song was a very generous compliment.
"You want something else? I got a looot else." Manic spoke with more energy than he had during the rest of their exchange. He opened the glove box and whipped out a CD bag. Scourge snatched it out of his hands. "Take your pick."
As soon as the case was unzipped, a light pink envelope fell out of the case. Sonia was written across it in large, beautiful calligraphy. "Don't worry about that," Manic said, "It's probably not important." And with a flick of the wrist, the letter was out the window, where it would slowly flutter into a stagnant puddle and never be seen again.
Scourge flipped through the CDs. "Oh shit, no one else even knows Tasha Slaughter makes music anymore!" Scourge was pleasantly surprised by most of the selection. "Good taste, kid. The Sourballs, Amethyst Dusk... Damn, even The Urrrghs-"
Abruptly, Scourge slapped the case closed and yelled at Manic, "Chunky Punch?!"
"I don't like their Chunky work, but their Punchy work is bumping!" He said. "Eeeeeehehehe, my taste is garbage. Just like me!"
"You can say that again." Scourge started flipping through the CDs once again, flipping over the page with that heathen Chunky Punch CD. As Manic started pulling off of their exit, Scourge reached a couple of pages filled with CDs that didn't have proper labels. Names like Someday (Light of Love) and Let The Good Times Roll were written in marker on all of them. "These some kind of indie band?" Scourge asked, with the word indie dripping with spite.
"OoooooOOOOOOH DUUUDE!" Manic shouted. "Dude, that's MY band!"
Scourge stared flatly. "You have a band."
"Yeeeah! We're Manic Automatic!" Manic shouted.
"Drums?" Scourge joked.
"Yeeeeah-hea-heaaaaah! Drums and vocals!" Manic gripped the steering wheel as he got more excited. "Want some good music, you gotta MAKE good music!"
You don't drum and do lead vocals! Scourge thought. "Alright, I've got nothing better to do. Sing something."
Manic was caught off-guard in his excitement. He looked at Scourge, who was grinning like he was challenging him. "You're in a band, sing something for me. You sounded alright when you were asleep, lemme hear your voice."
"Usually, people are trying to get me to stop," Manic thought. Manic cleared his throat, and started belting out.
Hey, lover, come and be my alibi I'm gonna burn down the house tonight Ride with me, I know your friends say that I'm trouble
Scourge was immediately taken back. His singing before was just okay, but when he was awake? His voice was incredible. While a bit higher than he expected, his voice carried an incredible amount of power. Each note was struck perfectly, every word delivered in perfect time. As off as this kid seemed, it was clear he put a ton of time into vocal training. Even though Manic stopped singing after those three lines, Scourge was captivated for the duration, and could do nothing but stare for what felt like a minute after he had finished singing.
"Surprised?" Manic finally teased. "Oh, dude, we're almost there."
Sure enough, the Cornerstone Motel was slowly coming into view. It wasn't a horrible motel by any mean - It looked well kept, at least. If it was anywhere else in the city, it would be completely normal, but something about the vines on the walls and the out of commission pool made the whole building seem slightly off.
"You're strange, you know that?" Scourge said, just as they were pulling into the parking lot. "I like you, kid. Scourge. Scourge the Hedgehog."
"Hey, wait, before you go." Manic put the car into park, and reached for the CD case. "You want some more singing, here's our CD." He handed Scourge the disc labeled Let The Good Times Roll. "Actually, if you wanna hear us live, we're performing at The Fat Mutt. It's this bar and grill over on 25th and 3rd. I think out set starts at nine?"
Scourge took the CD, without any real intention of listening to it. He was halfway to his door before he stopped, leaving Manic with a half mumbled "Thanks." Manic closed his eyes, nodded, and pulled away from the motel.
Manic started hammering on the door to room 14 with his right fist. "Fiona, don't pull this shit, the car's parked here! Open the fucking door!" He didn't let up his yelling until Fiona finally decided to open up.
"You sure got here quickly."
Scourge pushed past her. "Don't pull that kind of shit again, Fiona!" He growled. He threw the CD down in a fit of petty rage.
"How'd you get here so quickly?" Fiona crossed her arms.
"I got a ride."
"You don't know anyone here." Fiona scoffed. "We've been in town for ten hours-"
Fiona's stiffened up. "You stole a car again, didn't you?"
"YOU stole MY car!" Scourge yelled, pointing his finger at Fiona's face. Fiona grabbed his wrist.
"The difference," Fiona whispered, "is that you aren't gonna call the cops on me." She let go of his arm, and pushed him back. "Can you lay off all these petty crimes for once?! If you don't want to get caught, you need to at least TRY and take a break!"
"I'm not gonna get caught, baby! I'm Scourge the Hedgehog!"
"EXACTLY! You're a hedgehog! Just another animal. You aren't king of the tramps anymore; You can mess up and get caught like anyone else!" She walked in closer, and drew a finger down his jacket, stopping her finger where his scars were. She drew her head in closer to his, and spoke quieter with every word. "You already screwed up once. And don't call me baby again. Got it?"
"Keep your hands off me, baby." Scourge growled, slamming his fist on the dresser.
Scourge's fist made a concerning crunch. The two stopped their bickering to see that Scourge, in his anger, had ended up shattering Manic's CD with his fist. Fiona grabbed a roughly triangular piece, and used it to point at Scourge.
"If you listened to me, you wouldn't have those scars, and we wouldn't be in that crappy motel, and you wouldn't have gotten pissy and broken your disc." Fiona stopped talking to look at the fragment. "Where'd you get this, anyways?"
Scourge didn't respond. He just lied down on his bed and put his hand on his forehead.
"I need a smoke, princess," Fiona eventually said. She reached into her pocket, pulled out a box of cigarettes, and left Scourge alone. "Shit, he'd be pissed at me..." He said.
Meanwhile, Manic was blissfully unaware of all of Fiona and Scourge's bickering. He was just turning into a familiar road, and started the long drive back to his apartment.
The drive home brought him passed all kind of old memories. There was that old burger joint he took some girl to once. "Didn't she get offended cause she was vegan or something?" He turned left, and in the same plaza was the thrift store he was banned from for stealing a set of lock picks. "Wait, was that this one or the one over on Lemat Parkway? ...No, it was here." Not that he needed to stop there anyways.
There was that music store he wasn't banned from because he only stole some guitar strings. And right next to it was the bar where his guitarist ended up breaking an A string one night. And right across the way was the medical clinic he went to when a broken A string flung up and scratched his eye. He'd only every lived in this city, and every building carried some kind of meaning for him. Not all of them were good memories, and there were many, many, far too many memories he'd love to forget, but they at least made fun stories.
After minutes and minutes of bad driving and worse 80s music, Manic finally arrived in front of his apartment. While he was getting out of his car, his sister ran down the stairs.
The first thing most people would notice about Sonia is her build. While Manic was a man with a very feminine build, Sonia was the opposite; a woman with a rather manly build. Her shoulders were broad, and she was surprisingly strong, given her appearance. She was a bright cranberry red, and her hair was a light pink worn in a practical, yet feminine, fashion. She wore a simple dark purple sundress and matching shoes. And around her neck, just like Manic, she had an old pendant. Hers was curved and engraved to look like a keyboard.
"Manic, where have you been?" Anyone else would hear her tone as angry, but Manic new this is how Sonia sounded when she was scared. "You were gone all night! Did you spend another night looking for that necklace?"
"No, I just... I think I fell asleep in my car? Was I doing something?"
"I asked you to get groceries yesterday."
Memories sparked in Manic's head. "Riiiiiiight!" He ran to the back of his car, and flipped the trunk. Most of the foods were nonperishable, but two gallons of milk had also been left in the trunk overnight. Manic grabbed them, and faced Sonia. "Oooooh, right..."
Sonia sighed, and smiled. "We'll get some more, Manic. Just throw them away, and I'll get some more tomorrow." While Manic walked towards a dumpster in an alley next to the building, Sonia picked up all the remaining bags, and closed the trunk. "We should start practicing soon."
"Riiight! Come on!" Manic grabbed a bag out of Sonia's hands, and rushed up the stairs. Sonia sighed, straightened her back, and followed Manic inside. They had a show this evening. And if Scourge had one thing in his life that he didn't think was completely ruined yet, he was about to give it his all.
