Unbelievably, I am Alone: Remix
An edit of the original, which was posted October 11, 2006 on DeviantArt.
Chase Young was mediating over a high edge that hovered above one of the larger waterfalls in his lair. The rushing sound was most relaxing and he enjoyed quite much, as long as he hadn't had a gallon of water before hand. With a soft sigh, he unfurled his legs and stood up, looking over the cliff at the front entrance. It had been a quiet day, considering that one Jack Spicer hadn't interrupted him during his exercises nor did he appear just to bother him during his leisure-time. It was very much enjoyable.
"It maybe strange that Spicer hasn't come today," Chase stated. "It's quiet here; much more pleasant if you ask me." He stepped lightly to the edge and jumped off, landing with a soft thump that didn't even seem to faze him. He paced quickly to his study, where he had a relaxing time lounging about, studying up on random subjects of his whims; something he'd never be able to do with Spicer around.
Chase open a large, worn, scroll, written before the printing press was ever made in China, or even matches to light candles for that matter.
Chase was reading the ancient scroll, sometimes finding holes that booklice ate though the yellow, brittle paper. Discouraged about not being able to read the rest of his tome, he re-rolled the parchment and tossed it onto a low table. He twiddled his thumbs and thought of things he needed to do or could do.
One: Already meditated, and I rather not do it again till tomorrow…
Two: Did my Tai Chi exercises, and really rather not do those till tomorrow as well…
way above such undignified behavior…maybe…
Three: Nothing much to read, unless I start reading my abundance of porn. Perhaps I should peruse my copy of the Karma Sutra--no, no, my amazing self-control is
Four: Servants fed.
Five: Servants don't play fetch (I should get some sort of animal…though, I might eat it if it gets me mad, then back to square one, I suppose).
Six: I could stalk the young monk, but I even find that boring. All I've ever heard from him was bragging; even in his sleep, he mutters about being number one.
Seven: Maybe making Wuya think she has a chance? Nah… She might put poison in my soup…
Chase uttered an annoyed moan and looked at the sun; from his position, he could easily see that it was too early to go to bed; it was winter after all. He figured that it was around six-ish, at the latest.Maybe I can take a bubble bath, like Spicer does those Saturdays.
A bubble floated and popped up in the air. The smell of cinnamon flooded the room; Chase acquired the soap from Jack, who left it when he visited Chase after shopping at some ridiculous store that dedicated itself to such thing; Bath and Whatever Jobs, or something like that.
After shedding the amazing heavy armor from his sleek, muscled form, he quickly slid into the hot, hot bath water and sighed. Perhaps, indulging yourself isn't always frivolous. He took in a deep breath of the cinnamon-y smell; Spicer has good taste…once in a while; surely not in fashion, but if I ever wanted a scented candle set, I'd sure look him up. He chuckled to himself and let the water relax his tired body.
The next day, he woke up a little late, still feeling the sensuous warm bath's effects. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and shuffled himself to the kitchen; he fixed himself some omelets and debated to himself whether, when he ruled the world, would destroy France for inventing mimes or keep it for making omelets. He decided the first was best.
Chase went though his normal routine: Mediating, practice, study, practice, mediation, etcetera. Yet, one again, he found himself with nothing to do, right around the same time as the day before.
"What in the world is the matter?" Chase asked. "Lets see; I did everything I normally would do, and everything went normally. What could be missing?" Suddenly, a thought popped into his mind. "Spicer wasn't here today, and he wasn't here yesterday. Have I gone and arranged myself around Spicer's annoying visits?" He shook his head, "No; I couldn't have. That annoying git is nothing to plan on… where is he anyway--No! No! No! No! I'm not worried, just a little… concerned… about my mental health…who I'm I talking to?"
Over the remaining days of the week, the same thing kept happening: He had too much free time and nothing to do with it. He began to go a bit loco, pacing the floor and wondering when Spicer was going to come back, but he some snapped to his senses and decided to take a bath every time.
By the next week, most of the bath soap was gone, so during his extra time, tried to find this store that labeled itself on the bottle. There was a lot of strange stares, seeing that Chase was in his manly armor--well, in armor period, and a lot of women doing the staring, for many different reasons; however they considered him to be just buying tens of gallons of the stuff for his sweetheart or maybe something ever more ridiculous.
Yet, more time went on; it seemed like months or even years since he last saw Spicer and had a full day of things to do.
It had only been two week.
Chase grew bored with life, sleeping in more and more. Soon, he woke around noon and skipped on his normal routine, substituting, instead, with gracious amounts of cinnamon baths; he even realized that Jack sort of smelt like cinnamon. He enjoyed the smell very much so.
Chase Young became very depressed in the third week; his jungle cats even began to worry. When he was in one of his slumping mood, which he sat in his throne room, face in hand, staring at the floor, he heard a the familiar noise of his doorway opening. Maybe one of the monks came to give me hell? Finally! He jumped from his seat and, uncharacteristically, dash to the front gate; he did regain his composure and began to walk to the unbelievable large marble staircase.
"Chase? Are you here?" he heard a voice. Chase recognized it right away.
Without a second thought, he ran down the stairs (unbelievably, not tripping on one) and tackled Jack Spicer to the ground.
"What the-"
"Don't you EVER be gone for such a long time, ever!" Chase growled into the boy's face.
"What in the world is your problem?" Jack queried.
"You do not ask question about my reactions, first of all." Chase snarled down at Jack. "From now on, you are to stay with me."
Jack's eyes widen, "What!? You hated me, and now you're mauling me after I just went on a vacation for a few weeks, demanding me to stay with you! What gives?"
Chase looked down onto the youth and stated truthfully, "I was lonely."
Jack chuckled, "I thought that the great Chase Young never got lonely?" Honestly, Jack was freaked out at this Chase Young he saw. You could see it in his garnet eyes.
"You thought wrong," Chase growled. He lifted himself from Jack and helped peel the boy from the floor.
"You're very heavy Chase; has anyone ever told you that?"
"Just shut up; if you're going to be such a baby. I guess--" Chase had a gleam in his eye, "--I guess I'll just have to care for you like on," he cooed.
Jack had a confused look on his face; then, Chase lifted the boy into his arms, bridal style, and started to walk.
"What the hell are you doing!?" Jack shouted, trying to kick his way out of Chase's clutches.
"Why, you're my baby now, Jack, and I intend to take very good care of you." The man seemed to purr.
However, the boy just looked befuddled; he never knew Chase had a sensitive side.