A/N: As someone who has an overly active imagination, I've always known this fact. But I never knew that I could get so many ideas from literally ANYTHING. A song, an inanimate object, a person, an event. Just by looking at something I can generate a random idea and write about it. That's what makes my stories so different from others.
I've been told by my father that I have an 'old soul' because I see things differently than my generation does. Perspective is everything, thankfully I have my flexibility to sympathize other's opinions. I'm very adaptable under circumstances. Going with the flow but with a passion to achieve.
People have tried to understand me, though unfortunately for them they can't. My very own parents don't get my sense of humor, or style. Many have guessed what I am; an e-boy/e-girl, emo, anime kid, art kid, drama kid, the smart aleck, the teacher's pet, the delinquent, etc...
I am everything as I am nothing. A jack of all trades, master of none. Something beyond my era's comprehension because they look at me with a tilted view. Confused on what the heck they want to be while I have my heart and soul set on what I'll be. Everything is interesting if you observe it long enough. Spacing out to let the unconscious brain wander into the astral plane full of utter nonsense.
My human body is restricting though. With emotions and all. The ability to feel pain is unbearable. I've lived long enough to put the cork on the bottle, throwing it into the vast sea of wasted breaths and tears I've shed over meaningless things. If I could shapeshift to my heart's content, maybe people could understand how I'm trying to express myself when my voice can't express it.
If it's words that get me into trouble, it's also my facial expressions. Sensitivity, aggression, harsh feelings are what humans feel. I am not human. I am not from this world. Something so alien to you, that you'd flee in terror. I am anonymous, just a face in the crowd. An unknown figure, an unidentifiable voice. If the government and humans were more rational and less emotional, the world would be in a better place.
I came to Earth, hoping for a better future. When I crashed down here to find something better, I was met with reality. Knowing now the mistake I made, I desperately want to go home. But I do not remember where home is amongst all of the vast galaxy. Well, I have found out that there are other aliens like me. People who are seen as odd, and out-of-the-loop of society. It breaks my heart that other humans are shunning us aliens away because we are different from them.
Now I say, "NO MORE!" We are strong as a whole, apart from divided parts of life. No matter what race, sexuality, ethnic background, shape, size, disorder whether mental or physical, family, friends, gender you have or are... you are welcome here. At Earth we are all equal. When you view this, please spread my message to everyone you could ever know. It might help someone. It might even help you, reader. If it does, I'm forever grateful that I wrote this true story for you.
Remember when I said that I was an alien? Well, not exactly. I'm a toon. Paxxen the Toon. My creator, Dakota Faer, is amazing at her job.
Basically, taking care of all the toons (like myself) but also creating them as well. Every toon likes her. (Especially me) And it has even gotten to the point that my little -ahem- crush had been spread about through rumors.
Now I'm labeled as a Lovestruck Toon, which is totally unnecessary of them to do. I am her creation, and therefore her loyal and fearless protector.
My base is all white, kind of see through and iridescent. My outline changes with my mood. I am made of light, colors, and shadows. I can stretch and shapeshift, making myself into a very animated toon. But all toons are animated in their own way.
Speaking of toons, we've arrived at the Plus Toon Studio Daycare. As Dakota parks her car into the employee parking space, I stare at her. Without even looking she could sense me trying to ask her a question.
"Got something on your mind?" I nod "I'm guessing it's about my promotion, huh?" Usually, most people and toons alike are surprised by her almost psychic mind, but I'm used to it, and I nod again. She sighs and looks at me with sympathetic eyes.
"I know this is going to be tough, for both of us. But we have to be strong. Do you think you can do that for me?"
"Of course. I'll do anything for you."
We go inside, and Dakota's coworkers are congratulating her promotion. I stand on the sidelines, feeling like a third wheel. Once they all break away from my creator, she'll be assigned newer jobs.
"Time to get to work." Dakota makes her way upstairs, starting her tasks. Cleaning every room, prepping the snacks, organizing the toys and plushies, and warming up her body so she won't pull a hamstring while racing after a rouge Toon.
Finally, we go to the front door.
"And in 3...2...1..." I slam my hand onto the button and all the toons, big, small, younger, older, color variations, and more flood into the daycare. "STAMPEDE!" I yell over to Dakota, and that's the codeword for announcements.
She turns on the megaphone, "HELLOOOOOOOOO TOONS!" All of the toons stop in their tracks and stares at the daycare manager.
"For those who haven't been here before, raise your hands." A few hands are raised but not many. "Alright Toons, welcome our newest members. The ones that have been here before, can you recite the rules?"
In union the older toons chant "Rule number one; Run safely. Rule number two; Always include anyone who wants to join. Rule number three; Have good manners and be considerate. Rule number four; remember to make everyone feel welcome. Rule number five; Enjoy your stay!"
"Good job, Vets. Please show the Sprys the way to their separate cabin bunks." Dakota smiles and the Veteran campers (The older Toons who have been there for a long while) guide the Sprys (The younger Toons who haven't been there long) to their cabins.
Then I notice that one of the Spry campers have gotten broken away from their group. On their name tag, it said Elliot. He seemed to be crying.
"Didja get lost Elli?" I pat his head and he nods, "I-I don't want to be h-here..." he sniffs. "I remember when Dakota took me here for the first time. I was scared too. Would you like me to stay with you?" He smiles and wipes his tears away. "Yes p-please!"
Eventually we found his cabin and Elliot's best friend (Who is a camp Veteran) Jezebel was sitting on a huge quilt rug, reading a fantasy story to all of the younger campers.
"Jeze, you left Elli in the back hall." Elliot is holding my hand and is hiding behind me. I stand confidently, unafraid of the blunt and stoic goth.
She gestures to Elli that he can come sit down on the big quilt rug with her. He does just that and curls up to Jezebel's side. I smile and leave the cabin, listening to Jezebel continue telling the story.
Dakota appears, holding a basket of sheets that seemed to be puked on. "Creator!" I rush towards her, and I snatch the basket away. "What happened?"
"One of the Sprys got sick from the cheese and crackers. They're lactose intolerant." I raise an eyebrow. "Did they eat it on the camp cot?" Dakota nods and I roll my eyes. "Kids these days, there is a thing called eating at a table for a reason..."
We fill a bucket of water and I begin washing the puked-on sheets. Dakota kneels next to me and helps me wash them because she could tell I was struggling. Her hands were over mine as Dakota showed me how to do this correctly and I blush.
"Thank you, creator." I say softly and she tilts her head to the side, looking at me. "For what?" "For, you know, creating me and teaching me..." She smiles "You're welcome, Paxxen." Dakota hugs me and my face breaks out in a deep red blush.
"C-creator? I can't breathe!"
Later, the Toons, Sprys and Vets, are wreaking havoc in the mess hall. Tribe wars and food do not mix. A food fight had broken out and it was absolute chaos. Dakota scolded the Toons because they were covered in grimy residue.
"Alright everyone, it looks like we're all going to have to take a bath." I know I shouldn't have thought this, but I imagined that me and the creator were taking a bath together. Dakota turns around and her eyes widen.
"Do you have a fever, Paxxen?" I shake my head frantically and I flee into the bathrooms to start the baths for the Toons that were the messiest. The creator had gotten into a bathing suit, and so had the messier Toons. She helps to clean them and other do it by themselves.
I stand aside, waiting until Dakota tells me to give her something like towels or shampoo/conditioner. She asks me to get a loofa and I scramble over to get it. But then I slip and fall into the tub. The Toons laugh and Dakota helps me up. I hand landed in her lap.
"Are you okay?" My face was soaking wet from the bathwater, and I couldn't see anything thanks to the soap in my eyes. "I'm temporarily blinded but otherwise I'm okay."
Once everyone was squeaky clean and dried off. Me and the creator were taking a break. The Toons were leaving with their creators.
I sigh, "I'm so sorry Dakota." She looks confused and raises an eyebrow at me, "Why are you sorry?" I fiddle with my hands
"I uhm... landed on your private area earlier. That was an inappropriate invasion of personal space. I'm so ashamed." Burying my head in my hands and she gently strokes my back.
"Paxxen, you're worrying about something that you really don't have to feel bad about. It was just a silly mistake." Dakota chuckles softly and I manage a weak smile.
"True but... there's something I must tell you." Without blinking she answers my question before I even say it. "I love you too." Dakota kisses my forehead and I lean on her shoulder.
We wave goodbye to the last Toon, and that was the end of another wacky day at Plus Toon Studio Daycare.