Compensation

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Compensation

Post  TenderFoot on Tue Nov 08, 2011 9:38 pm

A foul-smelling hunter growled as he tramped angrily down the sidewalk. In his hand he held his cell phone, which he was glaring angrily at like it just called his mother fat. Just before he was about to close J.J. Scoops for the night, Scuttle had received a text message from his father, Desmond. His eye sockets burned holes into the small digital screen, glaring at the words that cheerfully radiated up at him.

“hey scuttle. waanna B
a loving son and pick up some
milkfor me at the store . Ur mom wont
let me out of the house this late
@ nite. its time 4 her waxing . also u
still hav 2 pay rent 4 this month
. <3


Scuttle felt his eyebrow twitch. Seriously, what the fuck was with parents and their ability to butcher text messages even more than a four-year old? All that just...weird as fuck spacing. Still…getting a text message itself had excited the hunter a little. It was the first time that he had actually received one in quite a while. Text messages had become rare for Scuttle, it’s not like he had any friends or anything. He vaguely wondered why he still kept a phone if he didn’t even make phone calls. The only thing he used it for now was when his dad wanted to call him to make him pick something up; like Knaw from school or groceries like now. And shit, Scuttle always hated doing that garbage, so why didn’t he get rid of it? He stared at the small phone in his large hand, raising his thumb over contacts button. He bit his lip and then pressed it, almost regretting it when he saw the short list of phone numbers and names. His heart sped up when he saw the name of a… ‘friend’ he used to have. Even now Scuttle still couldn’t bring himself to delete the number. The hunter felt guilty. He quickly clicked back and then shoved the cellular device in his back pocket. Guilt if he deleted it, and guilt every time he allowed it to remain on his contacts list. He had never felt more conflicted about anything in his life, and he hated it. Why couldn’t he just get over it? This is why Scuttle didn’t want to get involved with anything as stupid as ‘friendship’ before meeting… well...it doesn’t matter anymore does it? Look where he was now. Alone. Again. Now only feeling stupid and pathetic for allowing someone to get close enough to see his weakness.

Over the past half year, Scuttle became even more nasty and hateful to others. Ever since his supposed ‘friend’ just got up and left town without a word to Scuttle, the hunter just wanted to crawl under a blanket and hide forever. He’s never been more embarrassed about anything, and he hated it that! How could someone actually get him to feel like that! Why should Scuttle give a shit? That’s what happened when you let yourself get close to someone, he thought with anger. He couldn’t remember how many times he told himself how stupid he was. Augh! His already short temper had grown even shorter, not wanting anyone to even fathom that he could have had friends before. Scuttle reached up and grabbed the brim of his visor, tugging it down slightly to hide his reddening face. Just so…embarrassing. “Ffffff….” Scuttle chomped down on his lower lip. He also hated it when he caught himself thinking about this shit. Again. Agaaaaain. God dammit.

Without even noticing, Scuttle accidentally bumped into a shopping cart. He spun away from it, cursing loudly and kicking it for daring to stand in his path. He growled and looked ahead, seeing that the grocery store was right in front of him. The blueish hunter turned his head to the left, noticing that some passing civilians were staring at him for fighting with the cart mere seconds ago. He paid them no heed and just shoved his hands in his pockets, walking forward through the automatic sliding doors of the grocery store. The bright white lights burned his eye sockets a bit when he first entered, causing him to hiss softly. Scuttle hunched his shoulders up like an angry vulture and made a b-line for the refrigerated section. Time to get that stupid fucking milk and get the fuck out of here.

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Re: Compensation

Post  StaciaStarburst on Wed Nov 09, 2011 3:55 am

As night time began to roll around, Snaggle made a short list of a few things she would need from the grocery store before heading home. She needed basic things for the week: Fresh meat, milk, produce, and a few spices that she had run out of. She may not have been a culinary master, but she could cook rather well and enjoyed her own food, which is all that matters. When she was with her brother, protecting him from infection, they ate a lot of venison. It was an opportunity to satisfy her thirst for the hunt and serve dinner when she returned. Granted, they weren't some hick red necks, but whoever doesn't like deer meat clearly retarded. As she salivated over the thought, she scratched out the meat products she was planning to buy and wrote a note at the bottom: Steak tonight, hunt for the week.

He infected tendencies used to disgust her, but after she continued to remind herself she wasn't particularly human anymore, she cast the thoughts away. She was a blood hungry creature like all of the other infected, just- more refined, so to speak. She still had a pallet for all of the things she ate while she was a human, but just enjoyed her savage qualities as they grew with her. She sighed after her pondering ceased.

She left her store that night and glanced across the street, seeing that the manager of J.J. Scoops, whom she saw earlier that day, doing a few closing chores of his own. Not paying him much mind, she locked her doors and walked toward the grocery store. On her walk, she looked around, being sure to remember where everything was located. Pulling out her phone, she had a text message from 'Jake.' She deleted the message before looking at it and shoved it in her pocket. This had tipped off a slight bit of anger within her and quickened her pace to resume her night as scheduled.

Reaching the grocery store only minutes later, she grabbed a hand basket and began walking through the store. She strolled through the produce, smelling and checking the fruits to be sure they were ripe and bending some of the vegetables to be sure they weren't rubbery. Disappointed with only being able to find a few items and wasting a bit of time, she continued her shopping. Her nose wrinkled as she walked down an isle, toward the freezer and refrigerated section; There's that faint mildew smell again... Discretely, she turned her head to smell her hoodie; it wasn't her. Maybe their is rotten milk spilled in the dairy section that hasn't been cleaned up yet...
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Re: Compensation

Post  CrimsonAngelofShadow on Wed Nov 09, 2011 4:49 am

Ray was outside in the back of the grocery store rummaging through the garbage. Though most would automatically consider that low and pathetically hobo-behavior, it was a different story to those who actually scavenge for food in such places. For one thing, it was ridiculous how much fresh food was thrown away and it wasn't even on the expiration dates yet. Besides, you didn't have to pay a cent for this food anyway since the store practically didn't want it anymore. And it wasn't that Ray didn't have the money to buy food, oh no, if anything, he could easily buy a handful of new houses if he wanted to, but life on the streets or "the nomadic life", as Ray would prefer calling it, had taught him how to gain without spending.

So in short, it wasn't that he couldn't buy food, it was simply that he didn't want to spend if he could avoid it. He grabbed a nice can of tuna unopened and undented from a cardboard box and dug a knife out of his pockets. He easily cut the lid off with the blade evidently having done this many times before. When the lid was off, he snaked his smoker tongue into the tuna goodness. He loved sea food, anything from the sea. He glanced at the expiration date on the can and grimaced... they threw this can away months before it would rot... sheesh... if there was anything he hated in the world, it was the economy and the system of "business". When he traveled with his mother who was a strong business woman, he saw the ugly face of business all too well. Though a few companies actually had standards and moral, most only cared about progression, high status, speed, increasing their salary and all that economic crap. If he could have it his way, he'd banish away the economy and just live off the land and do whatever he wanted. of course that wasn't going to happen any time soon, certainly not at his age.

When he finished his fish, he tossed the can aside and starting looking through the dumpster for any explosive potential products
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Re: Compensation

Post  TenderFoot on Wed Nov 09, 2011 6:40 am

The hunter clad in grey chewed noisily on the bag of chips he snagged off a convenient shelf on his way to the dairy section. Scuttle was always hungry, and when he was surrounded by food he always had to stuff some in his mouth. The hunter also didn’t have a problem with stealing, all of the employees were either too scared to approach him or thought he was going to pay for it later. Pft.

After navigating to the side of the store, he stopped in front of the wall that was lined with all the different kinds of milks and creams. It was…very white, and he sneered at it. God damn florescent lights weren’t helping much either. Like any infected, Scuttle preferred the darkness. The chilling draft that rolled off the wall didn’t even make Scuttle shiver or react in anyway. He was used to being cold and sometimes enjoyed it. His face was set into its permanent scowl, chewing slowly on the chips. He held the bag under his arm and really didn’t notice when half of the contents spilled out and spread all over the floor. What kind of milk did that fucker want me to get… Scuttle asked himself dumbly, placing the opened bag of chips behind himself in a refrigerated yogurt bin. He reached a clawed hand out towards a half gallon carton and tried to pick it up. His claws instantly punctured the thin cardboard and the white liquid started pouring out of the holes in thin streams. “Aw fuckin-!“ Scuttle dropped the carton of milk back on the shelf, hopping away to avoid getting sprayed with cow juice. “Shit.” Scuttle snarled as the milk started leaking over the shelves and down into the freezer. He wiped the milk that had gotten on his hands off on his hoodie, simply ignoring the mess and walking around it. Let the employees clean it up. Lazy fuckers needed something to do.

Alright, looking at the other containers of milk, Scuttle remembered that he saw the bigger plastic gallon container in their fridge back at home. He scanned over the gallon containers, noticing the different covered caps. Great, more fucking choices. When his dad told him to pick up milk after work, he wasn’t expecting it to be like a god damn test! The hunter silently seethed, jutting out his chin irritably. For some reason he looked over when a familiar scent reaching his scarred nose. He sniffed the air some more, lifting a curious eyebrow when he traced it back to a huntress wearing purple who had just approached the orange juice wall. He recognized her scent but he didn’t know where saw her. Then he remembered he didn’t exactly go out in town to socialize so she was probably a customer at Scoops at one time. His eyebrow lowered and he scowled; he always hated anything that had to do with his job. He was still pouting childishly at the milk and returned his attention to the wall. Red, blue, or green… Hmm…

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Re: Compensation

Post  StaciaStarburst on Wed Nov 09, 2011 7:11 am

Leisurely browsing the various juices in the refrigerated section, she cast her gaze lower. On the white tiles, there was a bit of milk pooling beneath one of the refrigerators. Quirking her eyebrow, she sniffed the air discretely; the milk was most certainly fresh. Following it with her eyes, a small trail of milk was streaked in the opposite direction. There she saw someone’s foot, well their shoe rather, and it looked filthy. Glancing up to expect a hobo, her nostrils burning slightly from the smell, she saw the manager of J.J. Scoops. It’s not that he smelt so horrible that it burned her, but it was unpleasant to her more than others because she preferred to always be surrounded by cleanliness. She knew it had to be him because it was the same distinct smell that she had breathed in at the ice cream parlor.

As she neared him, glancing over some of the milk cartons, she noticed the leaking on had claw punctures. She snickered mentally, actually finding it humorous. Granted, she didn’t enjoy the mess he made and it did bother her, it was still comical to find a carton of milk punctured and leaking because he gripped it wrong. She assumes it was him because he was the only person beside her in that section of the store besides herself and the leak was very fresh. When she looked away from it, she addressed him in a very light, easygoing tone. “The guy from J.J. Scoops right?” She turned to the milk hiding behind a glass door.

“I was actually meaning to applaud you on your performance. I did wonder what that kid with the flyers had done to be mortally wounded and tossed out on the street.” A faint laugh broke small talk, as she turned her head to him. The same day she had gone in, then left, another girl with flyers had been seen entering. But she sure went out with a bang. Snaggle had watched her limp away, all bloody and pathetic looking. She wasn’t heartless, but the situation called for some laughter if she was that stupid. It was obvious that he was not a pleasant person in the work place.
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Re: Compensation

Post  TenderFoot on Wed Nov 09, 2011 7:46 am

Scuttle wrenched his head abruptly to his right, a little startled at the voice that had suddenly made itself present. It was the huntress he had noticed before and she was talking to him. The male hunter hadn’t realized she had approached him and he wrinkled his nose slightly at his temporary obliviousness. Damn milk jugs and their distracting color tops. He looked her over quickly once more, catching some details that he hadn’t bothered to notice like the shopping basket she held in one hand. She then confirmed Scuttle’s previous assumption at being a customer of J.J. Scoops. His nose remained crinkled in a sneer, “Yeah unfortunately.” He spat rather bitterly. He hated being reminded of his job when he wasn’t at work and his mood soured even more.

However, the small huntress then brought up the flyer incident that happened the other day. The memory instantly pushed away his bubbling anger and hate into arrogance. He smirked at the huntress, leaning back a little as his stance relaxed. “Yeah. That was pretty great. Dumb bitch wouldn’t get the fuck out when I told her she couldn’t hang her shitty whore posters all over my store.” His grin widened maliciously as he recalled the way he owned that annoying bitch. “But she decided to get all in my face and give me some of that whore sass. Nuh-uh. That shit don’t play with me,” he shook his head, acting aloof and cool. “Fuckin’ grabbed her by the hair and slammed her face BAM!” He clapped his hands together after demonstrating how he was holding her. “Smashed her ugly face right on the counter. Broke her nose.” He boasted proudly, placing his hands on his hips and pushing out his chest slightly. “Then I dragged her out by the hair and tossed her out in the street where she belonged. Retarded whore…Fuckin’ annoying shits….” His eye sockets narrowed as he muttered those words, remembering the irritating memories of customers who always wanted to get snarky with him. Whatever, they all ended up regretting it when they were practically killed by the raging hunter. “I thought she would be tolerable, since she was a hunter n’ all. But nope,” he sucked in a breath like he was impressed with how sad that fact was, “dumb cunt just…pissed me the fuck off.” He glanced from the wall he had been staring at back to the huntress. He frowned at her irritably, “A lot of people do that.” It was about time someone recognized him for putting idiots in their place.

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Re: Compensation

Post  StaciaStarburst on Wed Nov 09, 2011 8:11 am

Judging by the tone in his voice when she mentioned his work, she could tell he had more disgust for his job then she had originally assumed. She made a brief mental note to not ask him about work as small talk, just to talk, if she saw him again. She was curious however, if he really hated his job there, and really hated his customers, or even ice cream, even anything about… Why did he wear his work visor all the time? He seemed to never remove it. Ironic.

Snaggle wanted to chuckle more at the arrogance and boastful attitude he had, rather than the animated re-telling of a story they both knew. Arrogance aside, she listened, and nodded as he buzzed with pride as he spoke. As he spoke, she was really, more or less, analyzing him. This was pretty easy to do seeing as he was so distracted by how awesome he thought he had been. She picked up on a few things: Foul banter, hates sass, hates flyers, and believes hunters to be the superior infected. The last one wasn’t mentioned exactly, but indirectly, it was definitely there. Her weight shifted from her left foot to her right and crossing her arms nonchalantly, causing the basket’s handle to safely rest in the crook of her elbow.

“Wow, maybe she’ll have le- Wait. That girl was a hunter? Hopefully you slammed some goddamn sense into her. She’s making us look bad.” She grimaced, even more displeased with the girl who had been thrown out. Snaggle wasn’t an infected racist of the sorts, she accepted or tolerated them all. She did favor hunters, though, mainly because she was one. I mean, smokers had bad health, boomers, ew, spitters were fucking gross and creepy, oh how the list could go on. Hunters seemed to have the only good infected traits; athletic, stealthy, flexible, agile. With a small laugh she shook her head dismissively and spoke again. “Whatever infected her must have taken a bite out of her fucking head.”
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Re: Compensation

Post  TenderFoot on Wed Nov 09, 2011 8:38 am

A loud bark of laughter left Scuttle’s throat. He sucked in a breath through his sharp teeth, shaking his head a little. “Tch, fuckin’ doubt it. Most people who occupy this city are just plain retarded and need to be hit by a truck.” Scuttle hated that. He absolutely hated that he couldn’t find one person who didn’t make him want to punch a hole in a wall. It made him just fucking rage at everything else that came his way. Dumb people were the reasons why he couldn’t have anything nice, like ever. Even if he believed he fucking deserved it. Even so, the one hunter who actually had become his friend before had got up and left town without a word. What is karma?

Scuttle felt his face warm up slightly as he thought of the reason as to why he assumed his friend left. Luckily the cold air being blasted from the dairy wall kept the red from coloring his cheekbones. He reached up and grabbed the brim of his visor, tugging it down over his nose in embarrassment. Then he realized what he was doing and quickly played it off as if he was adjusting it. “Eh.” He shrugged carelessly at her last comment, losing interest in the conversation once his thoughts had wandered. The male hunter looked back to his left at the wall still lined with countless variables of milk. His neutral expression quickly hardened into his signature scowl. Before he could go back to contemplating milk caps, he felt his pocket vibrate. He looked down, reaching into his pocket when he realized it was his cell phone. Pulling it out, he flipped it over to glance at the glowing front screen. Scuttle’s lips pulled back into a snarl when he realized it was another text message from his dad. What did that fagola want now? He jammed his thumb into the small button and quickly read the text. He held the phone away from himself as he let out a sarcastic laugh, “Ha! Great…” Scuttle’s eyebrows furrowed angrily as he stared down at the phone. “Now my dad wants me to get sugar cubes. What the fuck even…” he muttered, slightly baffled while shoving the cell back into his pocket. He was also pissed that he had to spend more of his money on these god damn groceries. Even if he was going to be paid back, Scuttle was just very cheap and loved to hoard his cash. Amazingly, he was still somehow poor as shit. That probably had to do with the fact like he was paid like a dirty Mexican with a less than minimum wage paycheck. He reached over and grabbed a gallon of milk by the handle, not really giving a two fucks about what color its cap was. At this point he just wanted to get the fuck home.

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Re: Compensation

Post  StaciaStarburst on Thu Nov 10, 2011 1:37 am

She nodded, silently agreeing with him as he complained. His shift in mood wasn't physically noticeable, but the vibe changed when he was quiet for a moment. Opening the glass door she retrieved a gallon of milk with a light blue cap, which indicated it was skim milk. Pulling it from over the lip of the shelf, she let her arm fall to her side, holding the milk like it were an empty plastic bag. She laughed momentarily, listening to his response to a text message he had received. With a sarcastic, unenthusiastic, and slightly spiteful tone she opened her mouth to speak once again after her short cackle. "Gotta fucking love parents."

With an exaggerated exhale of exhaustion, she glanced back at the isles seeing that the sugar and spices were in the same isle, adjacent from where they were standing. Her tongue ran over her unusually sharp tooth on the left side of her upper row in thought. When she turned back to him, her hand motioned toward the isle that they both needed and spoke with a swift tone. "I need to pick up some spices, care to accompany me to isle 7?" With one last smile, which had actually seemed to be more of a cocky smirk, directed at him, she returned her attention to the isle that held what she needed and proceeded.

There wasn't a particular skip in her step, but she walked with a bit of confidence, but she couldn't quite figure out how it got there. Oh shoot. I was gonna mention that I saw his dad the other day at work... Oh well. Not really of the utmost importance... The hunter in deep purple disappeared behind the median of isle 7 and glanced back and forth between the shelves, not actually paying attention to whether the male hunter followed behind her or waited for her to get out of his sight to avoid her. She really didn't care, so whatever.
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Re: Compensation

Post  TenderFoot on Thu Nov 10, 2011 6:40 am

Scuttle had already started to head towards the aisle that contained the sugar once he had the milk in his hand. But he slowed his pace as the huntress cursed, he hadn’t been paying attention to what she had commented on but he couldn’t help but raise an irritated eyebrow. He didn’t know why but it sort of pissed him off when she cursed. He sneered slightly in annoyance as she walked past him into aisle 7, where all of the spices and cooking necessities were apparently. He thought for a moment, completely ignoring the words that were coming from the huntress’ mouth. Not many females he knew cursed, and when they did it usually was at him. Scuttle quickly fixed that by punching them in the mouth shortly after. Then in the back of his head he remembered that he was sexist and expected women to bend over backwards and take all the shit men dished out towards them. Get back in the kitchen bitch! Only speak when spoken to!

Now he actually felt angry that he had to follow after the other infected into the same aisle. Her little quip made Scuttle think she had too much confidence and coolness around him. He didn’t like that. He wanted everyone to fear him or something along those lines. The arrogant hunter didn’t like anyone being ‘friendly’ with him, especially not a chick. He was not equal to her, he was above! Scuttle let a soft hiss escape through his teeth. He forced himself into a brisk walk, heading past the huntress who was browsing spices and stopped once he got to the sugar. There was bags, boxes, and sacks of the stuff. He reached over and grabbed a small box of sugar cubes. Desmond probably wanted this for tea later tonight. Even though it was kinda….well GAY and LAME… Scuttle also enjoyed tea time at the Hood Family household. It was one of the few things that relaxed him. (The hunter would rather hang himself before admitting that to anyone though.) The dirty hunter quickly shifted his head left and right, checking to see if any employees were wandering on either side of the aisles. Seeing no one but the huntress, Scuttle hastily shoved the small box of sugar cubes into his hoodie pocket. Ha, no way was he paying for those. He might as well try walking out the front door with the milk. As long as he acted casual about it, they might not approach him. Looking down and patting his hoodie pocket, he made sure that the sugar box didn’t show at all, then he started heading towards the registers. He didn’t even glance back at the huntress, muttering a quick, “Later Princess…” before leaving.

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Re: Compensation

Post  StaciaStarburst on Fri Nov 11, 2011 5:19 am

Her attention only turned to the male for a brief moment as he strode by, the arrogance and self-assertion seeming to loom in the atmosphere around him. With a curl of the left side of her lips, she let out a short, quiet snort and rolled her non-visible eyes. She leaned down slightly, reading the labels of each of the spices. There were so many, and all the labels and caps were the same color. You would have thought, for ease of the shoppers, they could have differentiated like they do for milk with it's caps. Her claws extended to pull garlic salt, oregano, onion salt, and cumin. Cumin didn't fit in with the other seasonings; not at all. The other three were very Italian-based seasonings, but cumin was more Latino.

Snag hated Latinos. She didn't like their language. She always grossed her out. She never liked their food, or their traditions. She didn't like their illiterate way of speaking. She despised their accents. But no matter how she felt about any of those things, she ate one 'un plato tipica de Latino.' The only reason for this is because her little brother took Spanish part I in middle school. He loved Spanish food, Mexican food, any spicy food based on Spanish influence. So she would commemorate his love for the culture. She knew that if he were still with her, they'd do it anyway.

After placing the various flavorings in her basket, her ears perked up, hearing the word, "Princess." Not turning to see only his back as he walked off, she merely checked her basket to be sure everything she needed was in there. Waiting for him to have been out of sight, she continued to the registers farthest from the door and proceeded with her checkout.
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