WARNING: Language and suggestions do get a bit harsh. Please observe this warning.


The music pulsed in such a way that you could feel an answering beat in your lungs, your heart. It was odd, how if the music was loud enough it seemed to strike off chords in your own body. Swaying, dancing, gyrating, in the end it was all the same thing.

It was just that some people were better at it than others.

What he did couldn’t be called dancing, because dancing was something you did for yourself, for pleasure (although people may argue with that theory). But it couldn’t be called stripping either. Yes, clothes disappeared. But when he danced, you were so intent on his eyes, that slightly arrogant smirk, that you really weren’t noticing the clothes.

… well, maybe a little bit.

“Alexiii!!” a group of women, both barely legal and old enough to be his grandmother squealed, jumping up and down and waving a signboard around, screaming ‘will you marry me?’

Although they may be taking it a step too far, Alexi was just one of the many strippers who had their own fan club. He was actually lucky that the women were so passive—there had been instances when they had dragged the stripper down from the stage, or had clambered on for abuse.

Alexi turned to the direction of the women and winked, and for a moment his eyes seemed to melt into something close to amusement, something—while it was not quite friendly, it was approachable, the nice eyes of a man you could grow to love.

Even if you only saw him three times a week, for an hour.

“We looove you!!” one woman screamed, and Alexi, still mindful of the beat just made enough time to….

There.

The jacket he had been wearing landing around her shoulders, and she blushed scarlet, jumping up and down with delight.

Until everyone else noticed her.

Then she disappeared under a seething mass of jealous women.

Alexi watched this with a grin, one of those ‘damn the world’ grins that he had practiced so often in the mirror to get perfect. And the women appreciated it, if that was the conclusion which could be drawn from the increase in screams.

Sweat slicked his body, and under the lights he appeared like a pale statue, a moving, gyrating, grinning statue which was half nude.

But he was so good at what he was doing…

Who cared if he broke a few modest rules?

***

As he slipped off the stage to the sound of applause and whistles that smile on his face seemed to dim, and that boyish light in those eyes disappeared completely, winking away as if it had never really existed before. Getting a towel and slinging it onto his shoulders, his face was dead—as if he was another man, and Alexi the Stripper didn’t exist off the stage.

“Alexi, good work.” Someone muttered behind him, and he grunted something back, something meaningless as he walked off towards the backdoor, knowing that the fans wouldn’t have left the building so early into the performances.

“Hey.” A man, tall, dark and handsome with grinning blue eyes stopped him. “Are we going out for drinks later?”

Alexi looked up, and his face, while it didn’t brighten again, seemed to relax. “Of course.” He frowned. “Tell Kid that it’s going to be his round.” He grinned then, different from the ones on stage. More relaxed, with still the same haunted look and stiff shoulders.

The man chuckled, walking off as if some great joke had been told and Alexi continued to the back.

The night was quiet, and while it was already ten thirty, no one seemed to be out near the back alleys. He could hear the slow thumping of the music from each side of the club, the sound of cars on the main road and the soft murmur of voices as men and women began to come out for the night, entering clubs and bars and what ever room to do what they had been waiting for all day.

He had been waiting for this as well.

Reaching into a nook behind a loose brick, he pulled out a lighter and a cigarette, lighting it up with a slow, practiced movement of a long time smoker.

Flick.

Inhale.

Sigh.

His shoulders relaxed that little bit more and he smiled, leaning against the wall and letting the slow curl of the smoke hit the skies. He liked it best now, it was better than the afterglow you get from sex. With sex, you were always left with the annoying woman to deal with afterwards… this, this was all dance, worship… and a cigarette after to congratulate himself.

“Hey, Alexi.” The door opened behind him, letting in a sudden cry of loud music. “Your fans are calling.”

Alexi’s expression twisted to one of disdain. He liked the women because they liked him. But honestly, didn’t human beings have anything else to do with their time? What was up with this stalking?!

“So?” he bit out, watching the other with a slightly larconic expression. He wasn’t going to budge.

“They want to know what you’re doing after.” The burly man said patiently. “Do you want me to tell them?”

Alexi grimaced. “I’ve fucked every one of them. Unless there’s someone new, don’t waste my time.”

The man hesitated, as if clearly wanting to say something, and Alexi knew what he wanted to say. He had seen it so many times before, and had heard it from the men and women who weren’t as polite. Asshole. Taking for granted all the fans and their delicate feelings.

Well, it wasn’t like it hurt him. And besides, wasn’t that what they were here for? To be used?

***

“We’re going to be living goood” the words were punctuated by a clash of mugs as the men saluted each other, the froth from five mugs of beer overflowing and spilling onto the bar as well as the floor. But miraculously, every single one of the men managed to remain dry.

“We must have made a grand each, honestly. Who’d have thought our business manager’s plan would actually work?”

Alexi relaxed into the mood of it all. He was with friends, stripper friends and celebrating a night of amazing tips was something he enjoyed the most. Well, second to a good one night stand. But that seldom came around, so he considered it a miracle.

“Oh my god…is that Alexi?” someone murmured, and Alexi stiffened. Something around his eyes seemed to tense, but his smile deepened and he turned around. “It is! Alexi!”

As he moved around smoozing with the crowd and being a boyish, beautiful man that he looked like, his friends watched with barely concealed laughter.

“You know.” One of them stated. “I’d be jealous that he always got the lions share of the tips, but when I see this…”

Another chuckled. So, few of his friends did have bigger egos than he did, they loved the adoration of fans, but they were all professionals. They all worked at the most exclusive bar to this side of Chicago, and they knew better than to envy this instant recognition thing.

Especially since they knew Alexi so well, and knew that he hated it.

“But he’s so good at what he does.” Someone said admiringly. “Everyone seems to recognize him, like he’s some porn star…” laughter accompanied that joke. They all knew better than to think of him…performing for money.

Alexi could be such a snob at times.

“It’s like he’s been doing it for centuries.” Someone else interjected, and someone smothered a laugh when Alexi’s eyes seemed to gleam and even more brighter light. “Ooh, he just spotted prey.”

They all snorted. Masculine snorts as they looked down at the woman and saw a blonde girl with a barely legal dress. “I could wipe my…”

“Can it. He’s coming back.”

When Alexi returned, one arm securely fastened around the anorexic girl’s nonexistence waist, there was already a look of self determination, of satisfaction as if he knew what was coming tonight.

“Gentlemen.” He said. His friends knew each other too well to look at each other now. Else they’d start laughing. “I’ll be leaving for tonight.” He looked down at the girl and his smile grew impish, which had her giggle like hell. “I have…”

“Better things to do now.” One of them supplied, and finally, he couldn’t hold back his smirk. “We know, Alexi. Have fun.” Someone snorted at those words.

But it didn’t matter to Alexi any more.

“It’s scary. The man we know is brooding at silent. How can any human being be so psychotic as to change personalities like that?”

Then, Alexi’s oldest friend, the dark guy with those blue eyes looked up, startled. “Don’t you know?” he asked innocently. “Alexi’s not human.”

People didn’t know if he was joking.

***

Laughing softly as he tugged his sweater out of jeans trousers, he entered the key into the lock, leaning down and nibbling on her lips even as he maneuvered his door. Slipping inside, he turned on the lights, a dim glow that seemed to surround his large studio apartment.

“Wow…” the woman paused, looking around. It was not a penthouse—rather, it was just really high up with huge arching windows that seemed to choke the thought of height out of a viewer. Spinning around slowly with an admiring gaze, she paused. “Alexi.” She said, uncertain. “There’s a woman…”

Alexi stiffened, and looked over, wondering what kind of crazy woman managed to get into his apartment when he saw that flash of black hair.

He knew only one person with black hair like that.

“You need to leave.” He said coldly.

The woman relaxed, turning, expectant, knowing that once that woman left she’d be alone with the most beautiful man in the world.

Only to see that his gaze was fastened on her.

“Can’t you hear me?” he asked impatiently. “You need to leave.”

She looked up, wondering if this was some kind of joke. “Alexi.” She murmured uncertainly, and took a step foreword.

“The door’s behind me.” He walked towards the other woman, something in his eyes…

The door slammed shut behind him.

The tall, raven haired stranger smiled. “You were rude to her.” The voice purred, sexy and low.

“Doesn’t matter.” He said flippantly, already having forgotten about the other girl. “I’ll send her tickets to get into the club.”

“Do you even know her name?”

He paused. “You’re right. Never mind. I would have screwed her up anyways.” He smiled briefly. “After I screwed her.”

He walked forewords; his gaze intent and suddenly he swung his walk towards the kitchen. A counter, a fridge and a stove perched in the open floor studio apartment, his voice drifted behind him, tense.

“You weren’t supposed to be here for a long time.” He snapped.

 The creature watched as Alexi pulled out a couple of boxes. A couple of beers, some weird looking saucers and said finally…

“It’s time.”

Alexi paused, and his eyes were glittering. “Shy.”

***

And it was indeed, Shy. Shy the crazy geneticist who created creatures of fun, who exploited his creepiness for profit and who had a weakness for cake.

“If you didn’t know I was coming.” He purred, drifting over. “Why did you have the cake?”

Alexi looked down at the marzipan and cream confection. He shrugged. “Because it’s better to be safe than sorry, with you.” He snapped. He was edgy, uncomfortable as he looked up. “Isn’t it?”

Shy sat down on a stool, looking at home as he poured the steeped tea into one cup. When he reached for Alexi’s, the stripper snorted.

“Are you crazy? I’ll make my own drink.” He snatched the cup away, walking towards the bar and pouring himself a large helping of scotch, on the rocks.

So what if he had been saving it for a special occasion? This probably counted as… ‘something’.

Shy watched Alexi’s awkward movements with undisguised amusement. Turning on the lights so that the room was a bit brighter, he surveyed his surroundings.

“You’ve been doing well.” He remarked. “More so, than when you were a gentlemen, a stockbroker or a kept man.”

Alexi looked around the room, relaxing. “Yeah, well. If you move with the times…” he waved his hand, causing some of his drink to slosh down the front of his sweater. He scowled. “It was cashmere as well…” he muttered for his own benefit.

Shy smiled, serene. “You are a stripper, now?” the word sounded exotic and heathen on his tongue, but Alexi didn’t like. He didn’t like having men…oogle him like that.

Especially this one.

“Yeah, so what?” he snapped. “No free shows.”

For a moment, Shy’s eyes seemed to harden, as if Alexi had truly tested the scientist’s patience. But his voice was still soft, still gentle when he said.

“Alexi.” Condescending. “I gave you immortality. You knew you’d be my companion for years. I see you once every two months. The least you could do is be polite.”

Alexi’s only answer was another scowl.

***

It was during the 1700’s, another one of those damn French Revolutions, and while Alexi had long ago lost his accent, sometimes there was always that trace of something foreign. Not foreign, as in country, but foreign as in time period.

He was three hundred years old.

“Mister!” The young Alexi called out in French. “Behind you!”

A tall, exotic looking man (Alexi had seen them around enough to know that he was Chinese) paused, a great black cape swirling around him as he smiled, almost grateful. He ducked just in time as something went flying over his head.

They were two men, or one man and one lecher caught between a small squirmish. But Alexi had seen them around so often that he didn’t get scared any more.

“Thank you.” The man purred, in French. Alexi’s eyes widened.

He was no innocent, but… “Who don’t you, mister?” he asked. “No one knows how to speak so well with no accent.”

The man smiled, briefly. “I am Shy.”

Alexi frowned, his nose wrinkled and for a moment a very wary expression entered his 18 year old’s eyes. “Mister.” He said quietly. “I don’t care what kind of euphanism that stands for. I’m not going to…”

The man’s eyes widened, and then he laughed. “No, my name is Shy.”

Sha-eee.

Alexi shrugged, and the man’s smile seemed to deepen.

“Tell me, beautiful one.” He said gently. “What is the one thing you want most in your life?”

Alexi’s smile was immediate. “Immortality, of course.” He answered laughingly. “What else?”

During the next decade, Alexi bumped into the man so many times that it grew not to be a coincidence. He met Shy often, sometimes in the streets, sometimes in some formal gala that he was unexpectedly sent an invitation from. Alexi grew up during those ten years knowing precious few facts about the asian man. He knew that he was exotic, that he was widely learned and that he came from another world.

“Another planet, actually.” Shy would answer, a smile on his face. “But a world is fine.”

He also had weird friends, friends with golden eyes and gleaming faces that didn’t seem too human. Beautiful women as well—while Alexi had long lost his first to a maid when he was thirteen (or so he said) the women were beautiful enough to have him stumbling over his words.

And every time, Shy would look at him with a considering glance and say. “Do you still want immortality?”

Alexi would always answer the same way. “As long as I remain beautiful.”

He was, a French Dorian Gray. A beautiful youth who grew to know his worth, and he climbed the ranks from a gentleman’s son to the (what is the masculine version of a mistress? Master?) beds of the most influential women in the French Courts.

And during the entire time, Shy would always be there.

Alexi knew Shy when he fell in love with a little thing, had his heart broken when the slip of a girl ran off with a nobody and then broke countless hearts. Shy was there when Alexi first tasted drugs, when he first learnt of murder and how powerful it was to be merely beautiful.

Alexi knew Shy the entire time, and it was in his twenty eighth year that Shy said.

“I will give you something, as a present.”

“What?” bedecked in clothes that did not suit a man, he smiled.

“Immortality.”

And that’s how it happened.

***

Alexi watched Shy. “Are you here already to tell me that it’s time to leave?” he asked, swirling around the contents in his cup, trying to determine his future in the water and alcohol mix.

Shy smiled. “I always warned you when you had to move, I always came back for you because I worried someone would catch on. Humanity seems to fool itself into thinking it wants miracles, but when I give it to them…” he shook his head, sorrowful. “Alexi, do you really want to stay here any longer?”

The words took a while to penetrate his mind, because he influenced by the toxic waste inside him. For five minutes he didn’t answer, and then suddenly he blinked.

“Well.” He said, his voice slightly slurred as he tried to get his bearings properly. “I think—“

Shy had dealt with drunkards too often to get insulted. Besides, he liked to think that he had this kind of effect on men and women. “Yes?” he prompted.

“That I am bored.” He said. “I’m bored. Bored bored bored. Bored with humanity. Bored with mortality.”

Shy smiled. “I thought you’d see it that way.” For a moment, his face turned regretful. “Alexi?”

Alexi looked up. “Yes?” he slurred.

“Forgive me.”

Then everything went black.

***

Alexi woke up with a bitch of a headache, only to find himself in another room, in another building with… windows that looked out into…

Oh my god, was that space?!

Deciding to never drink again when ever that man came around, he groaned, rolling over and trying to sleep again when something crinkled under his cheek.

“What the—“ even his own voice was too loud for the room.

Looking down at the piece of paper and it’s elegent scripture, he frowned. Now if he could just remember how to read…

Suddenly he noticed a cup of water and two pills, and without questioning it swallowed it down.

And promptly felt as if his insides were being reorganized.

When Alexi woke up for the second time, he found himself feeling much better, with the letter still gripped in his hand.

And…space still being space.

To Alexi,

I apologize for waking you up this way. If you were smart enough to take a white pill, you will be feeling better much easily. I left you two in case you dropped one under the bed.

Alexi frowned. No wonder it had felt awful…

You are at the Abstract Destiny. Someone else will explain to you exactly what it is. Basically, I took your words to heart. Alexi, you were bored with the world so I bought you a new one. I have a … correspondent here, by the name of Dr. Shroeder.
Now Alexi, I have never really met this man in my life. I do not want to scare him off too early in our… relationship. So I have sent you in my stead to sponser a biosynthed creature from the current…

Well, I shall call it clutch.

Alexi decided, Shy could call it anything he wanted. Sponser a what?

Ask someone on board. They will explain everything. If you need me, call me—someone will be bound to know who I am. Or ask for the scientist from the Vella Crean. Either works.

I will see you at the ‘hatching’!

Shy.

Alexi rolled over and decided to pretend that this didn’t all exist.

***

Alexi adapted to his life on board a ship much more easily than people would have wanted him to. He was a Dorian Gray- beautiful to look at, and while he still had his same ruthlessness and cold hearted sleeping his way through every bunkbed mannerism, the odd, scary looking creature’s on board seemed to curb him down a bit.

Especially once he saw that Valentine thing glowering at him.

What was it supposed to be, again?

Once he was sent photos of what ever it was he was supposed to stay here for, he had been mildly alarmed. Him, stay around and wait for fluffy things to hatch? Black and rainbow fluffy things?

It sounded so… unmanly.

Definatley something a stripper should not do.

But he stayed anyways.

Because while he was an ex-congressman, and a ex-lawyer, he wasn’t an ex-stripper yet.

Yeah, you can find him at the main entertainment block in the Abstract Destiny, doing his thing to weird music.

He still looks good, though.


Name: Ardenon Friskers

Sponsored by: Alexi

Gender: Male

Breed: Hybrid Catdragon

Kitten Height: 2'11"

Adult Height: 19'10"

Colour: Orange-accent Red-runed Black-Brown

Personality: Ardenon fits the cat stereotype. He is aloof and elegant, and don't disturb him unless you want to be bitten or clawed. Indolent to the core, all he wants to do is relax, groom himself, and be left alone, and he'll get very snippy with anyone that tries to make him do anything else.

Abilities: Empathic Transfer. Firebreath. Teleportation. Verbal Speech.

Cyborware: Moderate

Name: Errovan Friskers

Sponsored by: Alexi

Gender: Female

Breed: Hybrid Catdragon

Kitten Height: 2'7"

Adult Height: 18'9"

Colour: Rainbow-accent Blue-pointed Black-White

Personality: Errovan is as absent-minded as they come. Don't trust her with anything important, for though she's sweet and kind and wants to be helpful, she just doesn't have the short-term memory to be of any use. She is not, however, stupid. Manage to ingrain something into her long-term memory, and she'll never forget it.

Abilities: Charm. Empathy. Firebreath. Teleportation. Verbal Speech.

Cyborware: Moderate

***