This here would be the source code for life, for the computer science nerds out there. Enjoy.

private Life live(){
Life life=new Life();
life.begin();
int age=0;

while(age<6){
play();
age++;
}

while(age<18){
learn();
age++;
}

Exam exam=new Exam(“College”);
if(exam.test()==Exam.PASS){
College college=new College();
while(!college.graduated()){
learn();
}
}

while(isAlive())(
work();
liveYourOwnLife();
)
die();
life.end();
return life;
}

Don’t judge me.

“Lower the catnip.”

“Sir?”

“Lower it.”

“But, sir–”

“Did you hear me? Are you deaf? I told you to lower it, maggot!”

“Sir, yes, sir!”

The soldier slowly, painfully lowers the package of pure bliss into the pit, and watches in terror as the little kittens dive for it, practically tearing each other to shreds. The poor things hadn’t had a meal in days.

“Now take them out.”

The soldier almost collapsed on the ground in relief. They were finally letting the kittens go! All they’d done wrong was stage a tiny, little, itty-bitty kitten protest against Meow Zedong’s ban of milk from the lunch menu. Everyone knew how much those kittens loved milk, and so no cat had been surprised when the protests started.

And then the Meow started commanding the older cats to punish the young ones.

At first, it was simple things — getting the up early, extra litter-box checks (a couple were caught with dirty litter boxes, and no one had seem any of them since) — but soon it developed into much more horrid things. They used laser pointers to guide the kittens into isolation chambers, where no one could pet them for weeks. They broke the kittens’ brushes, so they couldn’t even properly groom themselves. They took away meals, sometimes made the kittens work all day without getting a cat nap.

And now, this.

Catnip.

They were using the one thing that no cat — let alone a kitten — could resist.

But it looked like the Meow was finally letting the kittens go.

“Here you go, little ones. I really hope you’ve learned your lesson,” the solider muttered softly into the kittens’ ears. He’d been almost unable to torture them any further, and he was so relieved to finally be giving them a break that he could barely stand. The soldier had never been a hardened tomcat; he’d often gotten teased at cat school, and had developed a soft spot for weaklings. He’d joined the Catitary to become a stronger, adult cat; he’d never wanted to hurt poor, young kittens. They’d been drafted into the Catitary, and didn’t even want to be here, unlike him; he felt very sorry for them.

But now he could finally cut them some slack. He’s slip them some extra milk and tuna after dinner tonight, since he was their supervisor, and he’d be the one checking on them at night and turning out lights.

“I never said to release them, soldier.” The icy voice of the Meow issued from behind the soldier, and as the words sunk into his brain, the soldier froze over.

“…Excuse me, sir?”

“Are you questioning me? I said we weren’t finished here. Don’t unbind their paws.”

The soldier’s heart sunk. How could this cruel alleycat do this to these young kittens? Hadn’t they had enough? The milk had been one of the few things they could enjoy here in the Catitary. Why did he even take it away in the first place? Was it all a scheme to teach the other cats a lesson?

In a surge of anger, the soldier sliced through the ropes with his paws.

“Run!” he hissed to the kittens, and turned to face the Meow.

“Si, I can’t let you punish these kittens anymore! They’re only draft kittens, for Cats’ sakes! Milk was one of the few things they could look forward to in this place. Then you take away their catnaps, their grooming sessions, and torture them with catnip? Haven’t you had enough? I can’t do this anymore!”

The solider stood there, panting, his tongue lolling to the side like the dogs they were training to fight against. He felt mortified that he’d said such things to the Meow, but he just couldn’t help it; he knew he was right, that the Meow was going to far, and that someone had to stand up for the kittens.

If it meant that he’d be tortured alongside them, so be it.

If it meant he was sent back to his wife in shame, a broken cat, never to roam the streets as a confident tomcat, so be it.

If it meant he could be killed here, unable to see his wife or his own kittens ever again… so be it.

He wasn’t going to hurt anyone.

“…Congratulations, Mr. Purr. You’ve passed the test.”

“I understand, Sir Meow, I’ll accept any–”

Wait.

What?

Purr stared at the Meow in bafflement.

“I… You, they… It…. What?” Purr stuttered, staring at the Meow uncomprehendingly.

“You’ve passed the test, Mr. Purr. I’m going to award you with a commendation, and you’ll be promoted to Catmander. I wouldn’t be surprised if you make Cateral within the year. At ease. The kittens may go.”

The soldier stared in awe after the Meow as he left. Then his lips spread slowly into the widest grin he’d ever had.

“I bet Mrs. Mew will be so surprised!”

Needed a break from working on the comic…

We went to see X-Cell, our school dance team, yesterday. The show was called “7 Deadly Sins,” and they used Lady Gaga’s Monster in their Wrath/Rage lineup. It was pretty amazing. I’ve had the song stuck in my head since then.

It… really made me wish I could dance.

lmao. I don’t even.

I was doodling in Psych and… came up with a race of creatures? Lol. My brain is somewhere far away. Or rather, the sense that would tell me not to create something as absurd as this is somewhere far away.

whatever. I’m so far from normal today.

Little preview of what I’ve been working on. It’s still in progress, but it’s the first page of a comic starring DBSK. >D I am officially obsessed.

I’m also messing with a new, more cartoony style. We’ll see where it goes. It’s hard to break from some of the automatic things I’ve picked up from manga-style……. eurgh.

Oh, and I’m not the writer, I just illustrate. :3 debating about whether or not to upload it on smackjeeves. I’ll ask zee writer what she thinks… it might be easier to share it if it’s up there, for sure.

I’ve been going back and forth between the first and second pages; first is digital, second I’m starting off traditional. I can’t decide which I like better… I’ll probably end up starting them traditional, since I can work on the layout better when I’ve got it physically in front of me, and then mess with it/finish it digitally, since I fail horribly at inking.

Um, it probably won’t stay green. I’ve been obsessed with monochromatic schemes lately. Don’t mind me.

That, and I thought green suited both Changmin and Yuhno.

ANYWHO. I’m out.

I really should clean Riley up a bit…

[that would be my computer's name.]

anyway, it’s not related to anything. it’s just… amusing.

I was bored.

I have no other excuse.

I really wish I was good enough to take commissions. I suck at coming up with sh*t to draw. ><

“Shitshitshitshitshit.”

Tatsumi paused at the low stream of curses issuing from behind the door she was passing, which was cracked slightly open.

“…Kaz?”

The demon jumped (a rather amusing sight, Tatsumi would’ve thought to herself, if she wasn’t preoccupied with the reason behind the uncharacteristic cursing) and spun to face her, stiffening at the sight of his tenant. For once, her soft, caring expression and calm lavender eyes did nothing to ease his anxiety.

“Tatsumi.”

Her brow wrinkled the tiniest bit in the beginnings of a frown. “What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?”

Now Tatsumi was frowning in full. “Don’t give me that. You were just cursing like a sailor. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say more than ‘fiddlesticks’ before, which, by the way, is very un-demon-like. But very Kazaku-like.” Her expression softened slightly, but there was a hard edge to her usually feather-like gaze. She wasn’t about to yield.

Think fast, Kazaku thought to himself.

“Oh, Saori just antagonized our new stove. Again. I think I’m going to have to get a new one.”

“Kazaku.” Tatsumi’s voice was sharp. “Last time, Saori nearly destroyed the whole kitchen, and you barely batted and eye. Don’t lie to me.”

Kazaku cringed at the fire that was building behind Tatsumi’s hot gaze. He started to melt.

But it was vitally important that he didn’t give in this time.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, barely audible. He moved closer to Tatsumi and extended his arms towards her, a pained expression on his face. Tatsumi had a lot of trouble resisting that face. The fire burned itself out, and she gave in, sinking into his embrace. “I don’t want to trouble you. It may be nothing. Please don’t concern yourself.”

“Mmf,” Tatsumi mumbled into his shirt. “May be nothing, my ass.”

Kazaku chuckled softly. “There’s no getting anything by you, is there?” he whispered into her ear.

Most of Tatsumi’s mental faculties that made her capable of speech abandoned her at that point.

—

CRASH.

“Did you hear that?”

Tatsumi whirled around to face the direction that the sound had come from. It was distant — the castle was a huge place — but she’s been sure it sounded like something breaking.

Something big.

“Hmm?” Saori was at the stove — probably a mistake on Tatsumi’s part, but Saori should really learn to utilize the appliances without destroying them in the process, and this was the only way to learn — and the sound of the boiling water and the fan next to her probably drowned out the crash.

“I heard… something,” Tatsumi mumbled, almost to herself.

“I’m right here. How can I have broken something on the other side of the castle?” Saori wondered aloud.

“I’m not blaming you, Saori,” Tatsumi sighed, turning back to face her friend. She had long, way black hair. Tatsumi had always envied her hair very much — I was silkier than hers, and always seemed to curl just right.

“Well, it certainly wasn’t Kazaku. The man isn’t human. I mean, of course he isn’t human, but… You know what I mean!” Saori ended angrily.

“Yes, Saori, I know what you mean,” Tatsumi grinned at her before turning back to face the direction of the noise. “But that’s what worries me. If it wasn’t you or me, and it couldn’t be Kaz… what was it?”

“Maybe you imagined it,” Saori supplied, her lips twisted into a playful smirk.

“Maybe,” Tatsumi muttered, wholly unconvinced. But seeing as she hadn’t heard anything else, and everything had returned to being still, she concluded that it was safer to make sure the kitchen survived Saori’s occupancy before investigating the source of the sound.

—

After Saori had successfully prepared sound and sandwiches, the two girls wrapped them up to bring them to Kazaku’s room on the other side of the castle (he never allowed Saori to cook in the kitchen nearest to his rooms for fear that she’ll explode the whole area along with the kitchen). But they’d safely prepared food this time, with many frantic interventions on Tatsumi’s part, and were on their way to deliver Kazaku’s portion (not that he strictly needed it, but he seemed to rather enjoy eating).

Unfortunately, Kazaku seemed to be having problems with properly closing doors today. For the second time, Tatsumi found one that was opened just enough for the sound to travel through the opening into the hallway.

“Don’t you touch her, you monster!”

“Ouch. Aren’t you being kinda harsh, Kazzy?  I haven’t seen you in years, after all. Not a very hospitable way to treat your–”

“Shut it. I know why you’re here, and you’re going to turn around and leave. Right now.” Kazaku’s voice was furious. Tatsumi didn’t recognize the voice of the person Kaz was arguing with.

“How could you possibly know why I’m here, br–”

“I KNOW. And I’m not going to let you anywhere NEAR a single inhabitant of my castle. I left for a *reason*. Now get out!”

Tatsumi decided she was going to be rather impulsive — and probably not very smart — today. Saori hissed a warning when she saw what Tatsumi was planning, but her hands were full with the tray of the lunch they’d prepared, so she was powerless to stop her.

“I’ve brought your lunch, Kazaku,” she called brightly, entering the room, Saori following a few steps behind her. She noticed glass all over the floor in front of a broken window. So she hadn’t imagined the crash after all.

“Is there something wrong with the front door?”

She finally noticed the other figure when he stepped out of the shadow cast by the window curtains.

He had the same silver hair as Kazaku, but his was a bit shorter except for one wrapped strand that hung to the side of his face. He had the same pointed ears and bright, abnormally colored eyes — but instead of Kazaku’s warm, honey-colored eyes, his were a harsh, fiery red-orange.

“So this is the human, is it?”

Kazaku was in front of Tatsumi in an instant, shielding her from the intruder’s direct line of vision.

Tatsumi had a bad feeling about this situation. There was something about his eyes… The way they seemed to see right through to her core, to pin her in place with their searing gaze. Maybe she shouldn’t have entered the room after all…

“OUCH.”

I slam my fist down on my finger, trying to squeeze the pain away with pressure. The sharp sting subsides under my grip, and eventually melts away. I continue sifting through the garbage bin next to my co-worker’s desk, making sure to keep my wounded finger far from any menacing paper edges.

No, I do not consider going through a co-worker’s garbage bin stalk-level behavior. There are extenuating circumstances, alright? Just…work with me, here.

I pull out page after page of useless, uninteresting sheets of paper with all kinds of financial bologna cluttering the white space. I cringe internally at every dollar sign — life was so much easier when I didn’t have to wait for a paycheck.

But seeing as I’m trying to be all under-the-radar and above-the-law now, I push those thoughts out of the forefront of my mind… Even though I can never seem bury them too deeply, at least I’ve managed to not constantly dwell on them. I’ll get there some day.

As I get close to the bottom, the pages are more crunched up, some squished into vaguely spherical clusters no larger than a tennis ball. I begin to unfold some, being careful of my already-butchered finger (quiet, you — paper cuts are bloody painful, and I don’t care what anyone says, there’s only so much a guy can handle. Especially with sensitive and delicate hands such as mine!).

Near the bottom, I start to see a slight change in the information on the sheets of crumpled paper — there are fewer dollar signs and numbers, and a substantial increase in recognizable words. Being the exact opposite of a business-savvy accountant, everything so far had been meaningless gibberish to me — just empty numbers. I don’t look at data charts like my co-worker does and see peoples’ dirty secrets. I have no idea how the freak does it, but I’ve yet to hear of an occurrence where intuition led my accountant friend in the wrong direction.

However, regardless of the intuitive powers of this intriguing individual, my curiosities are entirely non-work-related at this particular juncture. I sift through the significantly less formal-looking documents until I find what I’m looking for.

A letter, addressed to Skyler Lee Anthony, appealing to the deeply-buried emotional side of my seemingly cold-hearted and mysterious co-worker. It appeared to be from a woman, but from the contents, I couldn’t quite discern the subject of the heart-rending (and somewhat sickening) appeal for mercy.

From the moment I laid eyes on Skyler, I’d had a feeling there was more to him than one could surmise with a passing glance — a feeling that was quite rare in my life, what with my particular skill set (which had been so useful in my ex-line of work, and significantly less so these days…)

Of course, what with the scarcity with which I happened upon such intriguing individuals, finding out the details of the situation is a necessity. So, naturally, the second the coast was clear, I went garbage-bin-diving.

You can glean a frightening amount of insight into a person from their garbage. Not that I’d been expecting something quite this… specific. But, regardless. The plan was a sound one.

Skyler’s intentions are significantly less mysterious to me these days. Although I’ve still yet to gain any insight into his motivations — while I might know what some of his intentions are, the why is still a mystery to me.

Being the captivating mystery that he is, the enigma known as Skyler Lee hasn’t seen the last of me… not by a long shot.