Your name is SOLLUX CAPTOR, and today is just another boring day at work.

You are 19 years old, and have single-handedly managed to land the only job in town where you are forced to work with the most annoying douchebag in the history of humankind. Currently, said douchebag is stumbling around behind you, somehow managing to knock over every computer monitor within a 5-foot radius. You grit your teeth and address him in an acidic tone:

"God dammit Eridan, ith it that impothible for you to thimply walk from one end of the thtore to the other? Or perhapth I thould jutht tie you up in the back room until clothing time."

"Oooh, getting kinky, are wwe, Sollux? I had no idea you felt that wway for me," he says in his stupid accent, with an even stupider smirk on his face.

You whirl around and shoot him a murderous glare.

"Thut your thtupid excuthe of a mouth, Ampora, before I thove my keyboard down your pathetic throat!"

You brandish said object menacingly. Eridan just pouts and goes back to whatever idiotic task he was attempting to complete before he was seemingly overtaken with an urge to destroy the store's merchandise. You slump over the counter, resting your face in your hands, and groan inwardly.

Great idea, Captor. Work at the only place in town where you have to look at Ampora's ugly mug for 9 hours straight. Not to mention that he can't fix a computer worth half a damn. You chuckle to yourself and glance idly around the store.

There's not much to see: Tall, industrial-looking metal shelves filled with various computer bits and pieces, dull concrete floors covered with paint stains and grease spots, security cameras lurking like large, misshapen spiders in the upper corners of the walls, and one lone Faygo bottle, abandoned in a corner of the store.

Behind the front counter, things aren't much better: On your side, innards of various pieces of technology lay strewn about, like the guts of some massive machine-monster, the trash from your lunch, wadded into a ball, sulks near the edge of the counter as if contemplating a suicidal leap over the side, and several bottles of Tylenol and Advil dot the cheap, Formica surface like minuscule pain-relieving entities. You always make sure to keep a lot of those around, since you get migraines rather often.

On Eridan's side of the counter, things aren't much better: Playboy magazines lay scattered about, glossy, bikini-clad proof of his nonexistent romantic life, several mirrors of varying sizes are arranged around his laptop, to ensure a panoramic view of his face at all times, and his god dammed ugly cape was draped over a heinously tacky leopard-print computer chair.

As you briefly contemplate setting the chair on fire and throwing it off a bridge, perhaps with a certain fish-faced idiot tied to it, the front door opens with a cheery little ding, the sound undoubtedly mocking your pathetic excuse of a life. As if to verify this, in walk your two best friends, along with a girl you've never seen before. Poor Sollux. You only have two friends? What a sad state of affairs this is.

"Well, hello there, fuckass. Nice to see you," says the shorter of the two males, a distinctly grumpy quality present in his voice and on his face, as always. Karkat Vantas, 19 years old and your friend since childhood, is dressed predictably in his standard black turtleneck sweater with his Cancer sign and gray, torn jeans. His choppy black hair falls slightly into his face, and you can see the barest hint of a smile in his maroon eyes.

"Hey, what's all up and happenin', my motherfuckin' motherfucker?" drawls the other boy. This is Gamzee Makara. He is 20 years old, and rather tall, even taller than you. He is lean, almost to the point of gawkiness, and has outfitted himself in a loose indigo t-shirt, complete with the Capricorn sign, and baggy, black-and-gray spotted pants. His hair, long and shaggy, sticks out from his head and curls around his makeup-covered face.

You grin widely and open your mouth to greet your friends, when suddenly the third person steps out from behind Karkat and gives you a shy smile. You freeze, right in the middle of your attempt to speak, and your mouth hangs open in amazement. This girl is wearing a very long olive green skirt, with the toes of her blue sandals barely peeping out from underneath the hem. Her black t-shirt has an olive Leo sign on it, and she has a very long olive scarf twined around her neck. She is a bit shorter than Karkat, and she also has his pale complexion and black hair, although hers is cut in a messy bob. She also seems to be wearing a pair of blue cat ears. Surprisingly, they look quite cute on her. She looks up at you with wide green eyes, their glistening depths singing to you about hidden pools of sweet green water. Getting poetic, are we, Sollux? Oh yes. Very nice. She looks up at you, her lips quirking into a smile as she opens her mouth to speak.

Unfortunatley, your idiot of a friend chooses this moment to let loose his colorful take on the situation.

"Sollux fucking Captor, what the fuck do you think you're doing? Quit staring at Nepeta like some sort of mind-addled fucktard and pay attention to what I'm fucking trying to tell your stupid ass!"

You jolt awake from your daze, only to see the cat-eared girl wanding away deeper into the store, her skirt swishing behind her. You turn towards your two friends, and find them both staring at you with varying expressions of stoned happiness, and general pissed-off-ness.

"Who on earth wath that?" You ask, fascination dripping down from your voice and splashing all over your shoes. Way to go, Captor. Those were your favorite pair of converse.

"She wath... amathing," you mumble, staring towards the direction she'd wandered off to.

Gamzee chuckles and gives you a lazy grin.

"That, my motherfuckin' Solbro, was Nepsis, Karbro's miraculous cousin. She just turned 18 and decided to motherfuckin' up and move here, and me and my motherfuckin' best friend here were all up and showin' her the miraculous sights of this motherfuckin' fine town," Gamzee announces, a vaugley pleased expression evident on his calm, painted face. 'Karbro' shoots a magma-filled glare at the taller boy.

"Goddammit, you fucking stoner! How many time do I have to fucking tell your twice-baked, weed-and-Faygo encrusted ass that I am not your best friend? And don't call me 'Karbro'!"

The short, angry boy turns back to you, steam practically shooting from his ears.

"And for you fucking information, nosy-ass, Nepeta is my stupid ass cousin. She fucking thinks she's a cat or some shit. I have no fucking idea why she moved here, but because I am such a fucking generous person, I'm showing her around the town so she doesn't get fucking lost or anything stupid like that," Karkat growls at you, "And if you so much as look at her sideways, I will fucking take your stupid glasses and shove them in your fucking ear SO HARD-"

Your friend's ranting is cut short as Gamzee pulls the sputtering youth into a gangly embrace and begins patting him on the back, slowly and rhythmically.

"Shoosh, Karbro. Chill the motherfuck out, best friend. Shooshshooshshoosh…"

Karkat begins to breathe slower, and he finally calms down enough to speak somewhat quieter.

"Gamzee fucking Makara, if you don't quit calling me 'Karbro', I swear to god-"

Oops. Never mind. Karkat's muffled voice is silenced, as Gamzee hugs him even tighter, effectively cutting off the complaint before it could be completed. He then looks up at you with half-lidded eyes and confides,

"Don't worry, Solbro. Karbro here is just really motherfuckin' protective of Nepsis. She's really motherfuckin' sweet when you up and get to know her." The relaxed boy grins at you and opens his arms, finally freeing Karkat from his indigo confinement. The newly released Karkat promptly socks Gamzee in the arm, flips you the bird, and storms out the front door, muttering obscenities under his breath all the while.

You remove your bi-colored glasses and pinch the bridge of your nose between your fingers, a chuckle forming behind your smirk. You shake your head and sigh, replacing the glasses on your nose. You walk over to your gray-and-white faced friend and nudge him towards the door, which is quite difficult for you since he is about 6'6", and you are only 6'4". All you really end up doing is making him lean to one side as you attempt to shove him out of the store. You groan and give up, and Gamzee laughs happily.

"Oh, thut up, GZ," you mumble, "Jutht pleathe make thure KK getth back here in one piethe, alright?"

Gamzee nods in agreement, and waves at you before making his way out the door, ducking slightly to avoid hitting his head on the doorframe. As he saunters down the sidewalk, you can hear him calling for 'Karbro' at the top of his lungs, and a faint 'Fuck you!' in the distance.

You walk back around the counter and poke your head into the storeroom. As expected, Eridan is fast asleep in a folding chair, his mouth open and actively drooling all over his stupid silk shirt. You pull out your phone and snap a photo of the scene, and head over to your computer to upload it onto the internet.

As you sit at your computer, you realize that Nepeta is still in the store. You get up and begin to head back into the shelf-lined interior, stopping every so often to rearrange the products on the shelves. The farther back into the store you go, the more often you have to stop and fix computer parts from toppling onto the cement floor. You remind yourself to make Eridan come back here and tidy things up later. As you continue your progress through the store, you hear light, soft singing:

"I am the red in the rose, the flowers on the blankets on your bedroom floor.

And I am the gray in the ghost that hides with your clothes behind your closet door-"

You round the corner of the aisle and see Nepeta, dancing up and down the aisle, singing to herself. You just stand and watch her dance, like a creep. What the heck, Sollux? You've never said a word to her, and now you just stand and watch her dance? Fucking stalker.

Your internal argument is cut short as she suddenly sees you standing there. Her voice shuts down abruptly, and she stumbles over her feet as she ceases to dance. This action causes her to bump into a shelf, which causes a computer monitor to fall and hit her on the head. She lets out a startled squeak and drops to the floor, where she lays unmoving on the cement.