|Beautiful Girls| |Nikko The Dead Body Hoarder|

Nikko Vea's tantrum-like phase had ended about an hour previous, and now all that was left in his scrambled mind was the slight sanity he could grasp. Which, basically, was the reality that he was walking out in the snow without a shirt on. And with a fedora. And some of Vicky's old jewelry. A pair of pants and a boot with a sock pulled over the left one, he was fully happy enough to walk into the below freezing weather with a satisfied smile and an inquistive and slightly outrageous hand gesture. Nikko Vea, with his curly brown hair, had officially gone off the deep end. Of course, he didn't know this quite yet, probably because he hadn't hit a mirror in his path through the house and he didn't see the fact that he wore something of a shrine to Vicky. It was quite a sad and pathetic scene, Gabe Saporta Nikko Vea meandering through the house and finally onto the back porch of his house.

As he stepped into the cold air, he reached to his back and nonchalantly scratched it. Shrugging, he jumped off of the porch-step and stepped slowly off of it, his socked boot hitting before the normal boot. He wondered why the left was more soggy feeling than the other, but it wasnt that big of a deal to him. At the moment, he could tolerate the below twenty tempeture with no shirt on, he could probably be considered "insane" just at a look.

But, it was about one thirty in the morning, so nobody was really out, save for a few drunken messes who were worse dressed then Mr. Vea was at the current moment. A woman who wore something of a bikini and stripper high heels, a man who had decided to go streaking. Nikko had found this a little odd, but of course, everything was odd right now. Just the snow as it crinkled beneath his feet, and how each flake seemed more dull than it was yesterday morning. Stepping through the snow, he finally decided to try to see if any of the local shops were open. He enjoyed the local bakeries pastries, and they might go with a "No shirt, no service" rule, but that barely applied in the winter. And anyway, it was no big deal if he didn't get his strawberry cream pastry. He would just simply go back home and do whatever Nikko's do. Sit in their corner, I guess.

As he paraded into the small town circle, he saw the bakery was closed, only with a small candle in the window, trying to ward away theives. He walked past the glass display case, and his eyes flickered in the light, and he stepped out of the flickering view and back into the decending darkness. He walked past shops for a little bit, and then finally decided to attempt to walk back home. He felt a little cold now, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Was he not wearing a jacket? He pondered this for a second before finally turning on his heels and walking back in the direction towards his home.

But not before catching a body, laying limp in a close alley-way. A womans body, in particular. He tilted his head slightly, and slowly approached the dead human being. With a little bit of caution, he moved the body over, seeing the face. It was a fairly pretty girl, maybe around seventeen. Her expression was vague, and painted with sarcasm in the most elaborate of schemes. She had red hair and eyes that were shut closed. She touched her hand, smiling. Maybe, just maybe, she could come back to life.

Oh, but Nikko, she was alive. This woman, this girl, had died in vain and now, was alive again. Just for you Nikko Vea. He looked at the body, and he touched the palm of the girl, leaving a slight imprint in the skin there. Soft to the touch. He sighed, and looked at the girl. Would she talk to him? No, its too late. He finally decided on this option and thought she might want a better place to sleep. Yes, thats what he would know. In the morning, the two would have a lovely conversation about life over spaghetti pasta over toast and scrambled egg subsitute. It would be a lovely occasion, with a cheery yellow tablecloth and her hair curled and having a pink gebera daisy in it. He imagined himself presenting the toast with a flourish of his hand and her gasping with happiness. "Oh, thank you Nikko!"

Nikko was quite excited about this. Of course, Nikko jumped to conclusions quite quickly, but he was sure that this woman would come to life the next day. Just because she looked preserved. He nodded at the girl, who he tried to think of a name for as she was hoisted onto his bare shoulder, her head dangling on one side and the rest of the body on the rest. He tried to come up with a pretty name for the body. Lolita? No, too fussy for someone like her. Spades? No, too boyish. Melanie? Too district four-ish. His mind mentally searched through its dictionaries, attempting to find some name that would fit his newly aquired lady-companion. Azule? Marie? Ophelia? Denmark? Nikko's mind finally finished on Marie, since it was a classical name, tasteful and fairly descriptive of the womans curling red hair.

He finally made it to his street, where he unlocked his house and hoisted the woman up into the house, thinking. Maybe she would need somewhere to sleep. On the couch? Yes, on the couch would be perfect. He laid the dead body he so-lovingly called Marie on the parlor sofa, the very one he had to scrub toast stains out of earlier today. Mainly, with his tears, but that is beside the point. Marie didn't need to know this, did she? Nikko went upstairs to fetch a few blankets that would be a suitable quality for Marie, and as he laid them over her, he felt satisfied enough. Nodding, he said goodnight to the obviously dead body and hopped upstairs.