Allison had been running out of ink for a while. Or, well, she hadn't; she had plenty of ink. But she'd been running out of a few specific inks; a shimmering deep blue, and a bright green.

She had no idea why she'd been running out of the green. She liked green, but not bright colors so much. Had she really used it that much? And, anyway, she'd been making a point of trying to reuse her ink recently, so even if she had been using it, where had it all gone?

Probably the same place other peoples' socks went. Allison had never lost socks, or at least had only lost them very rarely, so instead her ink mysteriously vanished.

Regardless, she'd been running out of some of her preferred favorite colors, and had gone to get more. The green was found easily enough, but the blue had disappeared. Probably meant it was an ultra-special-limited-edition-etc. thing. Why they bothered doing that with art supplies, she had no idea; it didn't make any sense to her to get people to like a product, and to then stop making it. Maybe the companies held a bunch in reserve, and then if the item was popular enough, they slowly released the supply, selling it for thousands of times its actual value on ebay. And if the item was popular, but not enough, it became seasonal, or was re-released by "popular demand." The demand for money was quite popular, after all.

She wasn't sure what it said about her that Allison actually found the theory halfway believable. Better not mention it on the internet; there'd be a conspiracy theory website on it in a week. And then it would never go away.

So, Allison was half crouched and half leaning down, inspecting bottles of ink from half an inch away, green ink in hand and trying to think of combinations that could recreate the shimmering blue. Maybe a clear, glossy medium combined with a rich blue and a little black? The medium probably wasn't something she could control, though, so she may not be able to use the mix either... certainly wouldn't be able to put as much of the glossy stuff in as she'd inevitably want to. Shiny things were pretty, after all.

Now, the question of the day was, how could Akshay adequately ink his latest issue of “Slaagathor” without ink? The answer: he couldn’t! Unfortunately that meant that Akshay was going to have to go hunting for his ink supplies. Most of his he grabbed for art stores because the quality of ink they had a the more mainstream places like Target-Mart or Staples, rarely carried exactly what he needed. For ink inking purposes he preferred India ink since it tended to dry quickly and rarely bled through his pages. So, today, he was on the hunt!

Arriving at the front door of the establishment, Akshay was dressed simply in jeans, black sneakers and a black t-shirt that had whites silhouettes of Godzilla being walked on a leash by a man. He thought it was funny and therefore it really needed to be worn.

Strutting into the establishment, Akshay danced briefly to music that was filtering in through the iPod earbuds that were stuck in his ears. He slipped off his glasses, nodded to the man who worked behind the counter and continued to dance his way through the store. Apparently the entire store was now his dance floor.

Akshay made an interesting figure. An independent comic artist with a talent for dancing, he strutted his stuff as he spun and slide through the aisles. The music in his iPod was so loud though that customers, both young and old, could probably make it out clearly.

The Bodyrockers I Like The Way You Move poured out through his headphones as he danced on. Akshay looked like such a free spirit and for all purposes, he really was. He enjoyed his life, despite the few downers he had, but he refused to remain focused on them. Life needed to be lived and it needed to be enjoyed. As always he felt that people just needed to do things that kept them the most happy. For Akshay, that including dancing, music and art.

With a grin, Akshay sliiiiiiide into the “Ink” aisle with a little turn and slowly began to moonwalk down the rows. As he did so, the young artist paid no attention to where he was going.

SlideSlideSlide[/b]

“Most of alllllll…I like the way you Moooooooooove…”

He moonwalked, bobbing his head, and paid no attention to the redhead that was leaningg and looking at ink…

Allison was staring at the various bottles of ink, trying to decide which would work best (and emphatically reminding herself that pulling just a tiny bit out of the jars to see was not an option), and as such was a bit too focused in her own circling thoughts to pay attention to anything else. Including singing, dancing crazy boys with odd choice in shirts.

Because Allison has room to talk about crazy. And even more to talk about odd choices.

Allison, for her part, looked about equally normal, with jeans and a plain tee shirt, and a black leather-lookalike jacket with tiny embroidered petals on it. A classmate had made it as an experiment, and Allison had kept it when the classmate decided it was too strange; double takes amused Allison most of the time, and while the fabric might look like leather, it was much cooler. She hadn't manipulated ink into her own skin, for once, planning to use the blue ink she now apparently would not be getting.

An open space in the shelf caught her eye, and Allison leaned further down, awkwardly edging over to beer into the empty space in case some of the blue ink was there, and just pushed back.

And then reality decided to reassert itself, in the form of someone tripping over her. Which meant she, also, fell, though not quite so far considering she'd already mostly been on the ground as it was.

Allison found herself laying on the tile floor, hearing music she was pretty sure was coming from next to her instead of the speakers, and blinking up at the ceiling that had most definitely been behind her last she checked, not in front. "...Oh. Hi," was directed at the ceiling. "How are you?"

The moves were awesome. His beat was perfect. His voice sang true. But…for whatever reason, fate was simply not on his side. Truly enraptured by the music, Akshay was halfway down the aisle, moonwalking and making absolutely every dancer in the world jealous when his world suddenly took a turn. The first notice that something was wrong was when, as he backslid, the calf of his leg suddenly caught on something that was in his way. Normally Akshay is good at perceiving his surroundings but he was far to into his music. Before the artist knew it all he felt was air under his feet.

Once his leg lost strength and leaned back too far, the rest of Akshay’s body began to follow. Back leaning too far, arms flailing to catch anything that was not air, other foot sticking up far too much to balance him out, nope, that was the end of the discussion. Akshay Malik, on this day, was going to fall.

Arms flailed for a second more, almost as if he were trying to catch flight but all of it was for no use. Unable to help himself any further, Akshay fell, straight for the ground.

THUD!!![/b]

With a loud THUD he fell onto his back, hard on the ground and skid for half a second. For that moment Akshay had absolutely no bearing on what was up or what was down. All that he could decipher about his world was that now his back was extremely sore and cold from the hard tiled ground, and he was staring up at the ceiling. As his mind began to clear, he could still hear were the sounds of the music being fed into his ears.

Weakly, sorely, he pulled the earbuds from his ears and groaned again as he stared up to the ceiling. What the hell just happened?

>> "...Oh. Hi…How are you?"

He blinked.

W-Was the ceiling just talking to him? Did he have a concussion or something? Another futile blink as he stared at the expansive ceiling, Akshay simply decided to go with it. After all, how many people are given the opportunity to speak to a ceiling?

He shrugged.

“I’m doing well, thank you,” he muttered to the ceiling. “Yourself? Looking a little…high aren’t you?”

Allison... hadn't quite expected a response from the ceiling. Having gotten one, however, she was perfectly happy to continue the conversation. "I'm alright, thank you. A little confused, but that's fine. I don't normally get to talk to you, I think." She considered that for a moment. Maybe she was finally getting a useful ability? She had no idea what talking to ceilings had to do with controlling ink, or how it could be useful in a fight, but if ceilings had any memory, it'd be great for spying. And maybe she'd be able to talk to walls, too, and floors. Some floors were ceilings, too, after all. She hummed, wondering if she could somehow make a ear-on-a-wall design to make into a tattoo, and continued talking absently. "No, not really, I'm actually feeling quite low at the moment. That's okay, though, it's quite interesting."

Allison squirmed a bit, concentrating on the ceiling as she tried to make the floor more comfortable, then stopped as she realized she might offend the floor, that was possibly a ceiling, which meant she'd need to talk to it later, to spy. "You look quite... bright, yourself." She wasn't sure that was quite what she was supposed to say, but she figured she'd learn. All mutations took some learning, after all, and the talking part didn't seem to be difficult with this one. Now if only she could remember some kind of spy theme to hum....

Still slightly in a daze, Akshay sighed as he stared up at the ceiling. Though somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that it was silly that it was actually speaking to him. But he DID[/b] hear a voice didn’t he? By the process of logic it made absolutely perfect sense that the ceiling was speaking to him. After all, he was lying sprawled out on his back, staring upward and then heard a voice greet him rather cordially. What else could he do was respond back in just as nice a way?

After all, it was rude to just left conversations hang in the air.

>> "I'm alright, thank you. A little confused, but that's fine. I don't normally get to talk to you, I think."

He smirked. “Me either. You’re…usually so quiet. I’m…surprise you actually noticed me right now.”

Insanity! This had to be insanity but on the off chance it wasn’t, smirked as he went along with the conversation. It was an opportunity he really did not want to pass up and, on top of that, he would have hated to offend the ceiling. The last thing he needed was to offend it and have it suddenly hurl itself down upon his head. Or have it spread rumors about him to other ceilings and have them do the same!

It was a domino effect he wanted no part of. So he smiled wide and smirked at the ceiling. A happy Akshay was a safe Akshay.

>> "No, not really, I'm actually feeling quite low at the moment. That's okay, though, it's quite interesting…You look quite... bright, yourself."

He chuckled in response, his arms still lying limply at his sides.

“Hah, such a kidder,” he joked. “And thank you for the compliment! I can’t, you know, believe you noticed. Um…wow, no offense but…you have quite a bit of grim on you. Does no one wash you? That’s a crying shame if so.”

"Oh, well." Allison gave up on making the floor comfortable, and instead brushed away some hair that had started tickling her face. "It was hard not to, really. I don't think I'm very quiet, normally, except when I don't have anyone to talk to, and that doesn't count, really."

The ceiling laughed. Laughed. Allison had not known ceilings could laugh. It was a wondrous thing to know.

"You're quite welcome," she added in what might have been a gracious voice had it not been so exaggerated. "And oh, no, not in a long time, I wash myself. Most people do, really, unless they're very young or very old." She held a hand over her face, looking at it critically. "I don't see much grime on me. Maybe we see different types of grime?"

>> "Oh, well…It was hard not to, really. I don't think I'm very quiet, normally, except when I don't have anyone to talk to, and that doesn't count, really."

Akshay had to smirk. The ceiling had quite a sense of humor. He had to disagree because he always felt that ceilings were never very vocal. This is the first time he has ever held a conversation with one, anyways. The only times that has ever changed is when he is sitting in his apartment, listening to the sounds of his upstairs neighbors stomping around or “squeaky” their cheap bed. In his experience except for those few moments, the ceiling was a rather silent individual.

It was for that reason alone that Akshay was actually lying here, listening to the expansive creature speak to him. He wondered if it was just him, or if the whole store was actually hearing the ceiling talk. That would be a trip if everyone did.


>> "You're quite welcome…And oh, no, not in a long time, I wash myself. Most people do, really, unless they're very young or very old…I don't see much grime on me. Maybe we see different types of grime?"

He arched a brow. The ceiling could wash itself? H-How was that even possible? Maybe the sprinklers but it did not make sense for the ceiling to actually light a fire to give itself a quick bath. He doubted the ceiling even had opposable thumbs!

“Uh…maybe. I think I’m sure I see some, right there in that crease,” he shrugged. “But whatever. So, ugh, you must have, like ALL kinds of crazy stories. Led a long and interesting life and such?”

"I think it would make sense. I've never talked to you before, but you can talk, and I can talk, so probably we speak different languages, and I've just gotten a new ability." She grinned at the ceiling, still delighted at the idea despite the distinct lack of spy music in her memory. "So it would make sense that we see differently, and see different types of grime."

Allison considered that for a moment. Her life was... possibly interesting. She wasn't quite sure if it qualified as interesting or not, or when it became interesting if it had. "Well, I'm not sure. Not that long. And a little bit interesting. I've met lots of interesting people, anyway, but not much has happened to me. Except when meeting them." Which led to another thought. What if interesting people attracted interesting situations? It would make sense, and explain a lot. Though it was somewhat disappointing to learn she wasn't interesting. And a bit of a relief, too; she'd been attacked enough just from meeting interesting people. She didn't want to be kidnapped or anything. "I guess I have, only the interesting is just in little episodes where my life overlaps with a more interesting one."

>> "I think it would make sense. I've never talked to you before, but you can talk, and I can talk, so probably we speak different languages, and I've just gotten a new ability…So it would make sense that we see differently, and see different types of grime."

Akshay had to nod. He couldn’t argue with common sense like that. Maybe seeing grime did really only come down to perspectives. After all, it was not like he spoke to many ceilings in their life. Where he may see “grime”, a ceiling may see as a badge of honor! How was he supposed to know? He was not born a ceiling so it was world he would never understand.

>> "Well, I'm not sure. Not that long. And a little bit interesting. I've met lots of interesting people, anyway, but not much has happened to me. Except when meeting them…I guess I have, only the interesting is just in little episodes where my life overlaps with a more interesting one."

“Overlapping with one more interesting? Well…that does make sense.” He nodded.

In a way he guessed that had to be the only way that a ceiling could have interesting stories, is when something interesting walked underneath it. It was not like the ceiling could just up and walk to the nearest person and say hi. That was obviously impossible. Therefore the only way that a ceiling COULD meet someone would be to wait until someone interesting walked somewhere underneath them. Or even on top of them.

But wait…when walking on a ceiling…doesn’t that just make it a floor? He paused at the thought. Shaking his head he decided to save question for later. Instead he merely tilted his head and peered closely at the ceiling.

“So…am I the only one who can hear you talking? I mean, it’s not like this type of conversation is very common.” he noted.

"It keeps happening recently. I'm not quite sure why, actually, but it does." Allison considered for a moment before deciding that, yes, talking to ceilings probably counted. "Like this. This is a very interesting conversation."

"Oh, probably." Allison tried to nod, but discovered that was somewhat difficult when laying down. At at least when laying down with her hair underneath her. Ow. "People generally all think I'm crazy already, though, so whatever." She shifted, sort of rolling to either side to pull her hair out from under herself, then stopped and blinked with her head turned to the side.

...Hey. Was that a pillow there? Craft people often seemed to make pillows out of the oddest material. Interesting, though. She didn't remember it being on the floor....

...Hadn't someone tripped over her? Maybe they dropped the pillow. Allison craned her head to look farther around the floor and discovered that, oh, that was a people, not a pillow. Silly people. What was it doing on the floor?

...Mutant who could only move while asleep, and had gotten what they wanted and now had to move to the front of the store to pay for it and was trying to fall asleep to do that? That would be a cool mutation to have. Well, not really cool. Fun. More fun than hers was.

It was at about that point that Allison realized she'd reached over and poked the person on the floor by her at some point. Huh. Her hand was moving on its own. It must have gained sentience. Allison was getting all kinds of new abilities today!

>> "Oh, probably…People generally all think I'm crazy already, though, so whatever."

He arched a brow. Who would dare called a ceiling crazy? Maybe if it was only of those fun houses and the ceiling had been painted with a variety of colors, swirls, and psychedelic patterns. But this ceiling made it sound like it was an everyday thing! How…unfortunate. He wondered if it were possible for a ceiling to have hurt feelings. If so…how did it express such things? Questions like these definitely needed answers though. And, so long as he was here, he might as well ask them.

Akshay opened his mouth, preparing for his inquiry, when suddenly he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. Did this store had rats? Red rats, at that? He would have a stern word with the manager.

But then this thought was followed by the sensation of “poking” on his ribs. Were the rats now attempting to gnaw him to death? He blinked a couple times as he finally willed himself to sit up and remove himself from the ceiling’s attention and peered down.

A young woman was there, poking his side. His head tilted curiously.

“Hey,” was all he said as a confused greeting. He wondered what she was doing down here…

While Allison's mind might have caught up with the fact that she was poking the someone on the floor next to her, it hadn't caught up with the fact that poking could lead to a response. So when she heard a voice coming from beside her, it took a moment for her to pause, tilt her head to look up at the person's head, and answer.

"...Oh. Hi. How are you?"

Akshay had tilted his head down to look at the young woman who was poking at him. She was a pretty young thing but she seemed just mildly confused as to why he was on the floor. Maybe that was why she was poking him? Trying to get him to stir to see if he was okay? On the other hand she did not see all that concerned about his person. If she was, she wouldn’t just be lying there, poking him.

But, as interesting as all this speculation was, Akshay could not just sit there with the young lady poking him. That would be odd, to say the least. That was why he spoke up.

>> "...Oh. Hi. How are you?"

Acknowledgement!

He tilted his head a bit as he looked at her face. Definitely a cute girl but this was a rather odd place to just be hanging out. Who would willingly choose to just lie about on the floor of such a nice establishment as this? Sure they kept their floors clean and nicely waxed but was that really enough to want to make someone just sprawl out on the ground and poking any passerbys? He wondered if the ceiling knew about people like her.

“I’m okay. Having a nice conversation with the ceiling. Yourself?” he responded. “Did you know that ceilings can talk?”