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Big Girls Don't Cry	By : HellsFunnyHome Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Gorillaz Views: 1291 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Damien Albarn and Jamie Hewlett are the true owners of the Gorillaz. I don't know, own, or make any money from them. I also don't know any characters from the band Gorillaz. This is a creation of pure fiction, made up from my own mind.

Chapter List
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Never before did Vicky believe she would end up in another situation where she found herself trapped, a prisoner. If it wasn't for the pleasant companionship of her darling nephew, or the fact that she had the liberty to do what she wanted in her home, the situation would have too much like last time; for that, she was grateful.
The smell of cinnamon and apples guided Vicky back to the present moment, back from the memories of her time in England, in the not-forgotten Kong Studios. A flick of her wrist brought the temperature of the oatmeal down to a simmer, so it wouldn't lose all of it's viscosity: perfect for Vladimir. The boy was still asleep, it was barely 8 in the morning after all, and the only reason Vicky was up at all was because she really couldn't find the ability to sleep at ease; she envied his peaceful innocence.
Vicky hopped up onto the counter, close enough to the stove to watch it, but the slouch being much more comfortable on her tense shoulders. Grabbing the remote attached to the refrigerator, Vicky turned the channel to MTV, hoping they still had the early morning music videos before all of the normal crap took over. For once, the music channel didn't disappoint.
Her feet kicked the cabinets beneath them at the catchy beat of the song currently playing.
It's too late to change your mind, you let laws be your guide…
It wasn't a band she recognized, and it had no title or artist labeled at the end, but compared to everything else coming out these days, it was decent music. If she could remember the lyrics, she'd have to look it up later. The music tapered away, leaving a moment of silence for the MTV early morning logo, the break letting Vicky remember the oatmeal, which needed to be stirred. She heard the mindful, almost ghostly keyboard notes that introduced the new song. Vicky smiled, this had been one of her favorite bands since back in her grunge & punk days. Her smile grew, remembering how it had been a struggle to convince people she was classically-learned when, really, she looked like she just gone dumpster diving. How time flied.
Does the pain weight out the price?
And you look for a place to hide,
Did someone break your heart inside?
You're in ruins…
She turned up the volume, feeling herself relax– funny how music could have that effect. Humming along, Vicky removed the pot from the stove, ready to pour out the oatmeal when she heard her nephew sit at the table. She turned to face him and almost laughed at how worn-out he still looked; his hair was suffering a serious case of frizz and bedhead, there was drool at the side of his mouth, that same cheek was a bright red, and his eyes were more closed than they were open.
"Morning, bebe." Vicky hid her smile, proceeding with pouring out the contents of the pot into a bright red plastic bowl.
Eyes still closed, Vladimir responded with a wide smile and a raspy voice. "H-Hi." He cleared his throat.
"Hungry?" Vicky motioned to the oatmeal, her voice peacefully soft so as not to disturb the boy whose brain was still rousing. Finding that talking was too much of a task, the boy merely shook his head up and down in enthusiastic affirmation. She placed the bowl in front of him, when he suddenly got up and walked over to her cabinets. "What do you need?"
"Chocolate milk." He answered happily.
"Ah." Vicky looked at him, "What do you say?"
"Um…please!" Vladimir smiled, his sleep quickly fading away.
"Okie dokie artichokie."
The gallon of chocolate milk, which she only ever bought when her boy was staying over since she wasn't much of a milk drinker, was nearly half gone by now, meaning she would have to buy another one; that is, once things blew over. Vicky's hand reached for no mug in particular when she was stopped by her nephew.
"What?" She questioned, her hand midair, as she turned her head to face him.
"I want the zombie cup!" The boy's energy making a full presence. "uh, please!" He added quickly.
Vicky's right cheek turned up, and she made to grab the black mug he was apparently so fond of. It was a simple, "I heart Zombies," mug– the heart was replaced with a picture of the decrepit organ. As she poured out the chocolate milk into the mug, she vaguely noted the new song playing on the television; finding it strangely familiar, though she couldn't quite pinpoint what about it she recognized or even why.
"Here ya go, sunshine."
With a bright smile, she placed the cup in front of her nephew when the feeling that her body gave out from under her came abruptly. She had to hold herself up with the table, as her head slowly turned itself to the side in confusion and attention. There was no way she could mistake those faces, and the familiarity of the music suddenly made sense to her now. There, on the screen, was none other than Murdoc effin' Niccals driving a sleek black car while itty, bitty, blue-haired 2D sat to his right and sang. The sudden discernible appearance of the two was a bit…unnerving, to say the least. Vicky wasn't prepared.
Without warning, the mechanical sound of helicopter rotors rang close by and not even her fear could keep her from giving in to inquiry and checking her windows.
"Titi, why do you like scary stuff?" Vladimir asked, having not noticed his aunt's change of attitude and breaking Vicky out of her temporary obsession with looking out of her windows, to the sky: all was clear, though she had been positive she heard them.
Vicky forced a smile, an attempt to maintain the artificial tranquility–so as not to scare the poor young thing–and let go of the glass pendant hanging around her neck. She hadn't realized she had grabbed it so tightly but now her hand was a bit stiff and she had to clench, then unclench it, just to get the feeling back. "Um… I dunno, bebe." She shrugged, taking one last look outside and seeing nothing but the other busy apartments and the tenants within.
"Is it 'cause you like the Joker?"
"Have you been snooping around my comic books again?" Her voice was teasing, although the answer was automatic as her attention was on her hand.
"No…" He answered defensively, though she knew better. "How come you like zombies?"
Vicky paused to think, biting her lip around semi-scared skin that gave the precise location of old piercings, after making sure her curtains were closed. Unfortunately for her, before she could answer him, she came across the thing that had been stalking them.
"Oh, fuck…"

Was there ever a more pleasant beverage on the face of this earth? Rum. The elixir of pirates, jazzy folk-types, Cubans. The stronger, the better! Murdoc just couldn't get enough of its' spicy, smooth, musky flavor. A wide grin spread across his face, casually, as he adjusted the deep red thong-like bathing suit he used for tanning.
"Ahhh," he smacked his lips in satisfaction, after taking another sip of his cool alcoholic refreshment. He should've done this, YEARS ago, if he had known all the benefits. His album had just let out, the singles were quckly rising to the top of the charts. And with all of the collaborators, his fan base should double-no, quadruple!-in no time at all. Money would rake in, and he'd be laughing at the top of a pile of millions on his own little island of crap, laughing at the world and how much half-witted everyone was. "This is, ah," he took a drink, "the life!"
Money? Coming in. Fame? Growing every day. Pirates? Hadn't seen a bloody one since he had officially moved to the island. Boogieman? Bollocks, that one had appeared, with a small crew, but had suddenly disappeared. Hopefully for good. It wasn't as if Murdoc would be able to pay him back anyway, and if the strange demon was as smart as he seemed, then he'd know going after Murdoc was a lost cause. Murdoc had played him good so ol' red eyes might as well give up. Technically, if he kept persisting, it'd be like trying to steal from Beelzebub anyway, so, it all worked out for Murdoc. And why did it work out this way? Because he, Murdoc Alphonce Niccals, was a fuckin' genius.
Murdoc cackled, taking in the sounds of rolling waves below him. The best part about this sodding island, is that it hadn't cost him more than a couple thousand. A hundred bucks to gather the plastic to cover the junk, a couple hundred more to build his new HQ, some more to build the rest of the structures around the island. The rest of his money went to rum, though it meant some things were left permanently under construction, but… who cared? Murdoc was king, king of the land of garbage, and his control was coming ba–
A surge of poppy techno made Murdoc jump. "What in the bleedin' hell is all this noise?!" He jumped from his outside recliner, spilling the contents of his plastic coconut all over his legs, making him even more upset. Quickly, he wiped the liquid off as best he could, before storming down to the room that belong to the one and only, Cyber-Noodle.
"Hey, Stooge!" He called out for the robot, stopping his feet in frustration now that the music had interrupted his Me-Time. No sooner had the lift landed in the Engine Room and his foot landed on the floor, that the android opened the door to 'her suite.' Actually it was a cupboard, off to the side of the electrical chamber.
She smiled widely, making a sideways peace-sign near her eye. For a second, you could almost have been fooled into believing it was the young teenage Japanese girl, but Murdoc wouldn't be deluded. His lip snarled, pointing to the room.
"In sweet Satan's name, shut that buggerin' racquet off! Why's it on? Shut it off! Shut, it, off!" He huffed, in an effective diva manner.
The android's face returned to her normal stoic look, registering what her master had ordered then smirked, drool almost pouring out of her mouth during the devilish grin. She motioned towards the room with her head.
"Wha'?" Murdoc, pushed her out of the way, throwing open the door. His foul mood instantly lifted, and he laughed at the sight inside of the closet-space. 2D was wrapped in all sort of chords, his muffled pleads barely heard over the roaring techno beat, a hand fastened by his hip while the other stuck up into the air. Truthfully, he looked scared out of his wits, making Murdoc laugh that much more. "Alright, alright," he wiped a happy tear from his eye, nearly poking himself with his long nail. "Take 'im back. Tha's enough." He patted the shorter, cynical, cyborg on her artificial hair.
Fun time was over, it was time to work. All this merriment with the little bot had reminded him, he had gotten rumor that Noodle might be alive. He couldn't be sure at this point, since he had originally believed her to be dead then stuck in Hell where he had tried to save her, but that turned out to be a binge-drinking hallucination. Or maybe it wasn't, who knew? Whatever it was, he might as well try looking for her now. It'd make him look good, and after the whole mishap with the shooting of 'El Mañana'… well, Murdoc could wager she'd be pretty pissed off.
Pulling a cigarette from the little pocket at the front of his skimpy swimsuit, he motioned for Cyber-Noodle to light it, which she did with the removal of her thumb. What a useful child. Things were sure looking up for Murdoc, his biggest problem was the boogieman. But he'd stayed away for some time now, no use ruining it by wondering why. "I'd rather have him be wherever than here" Murdoc stepped into the lift, scratching the cheek of his ass and poking his head through the door. "Oi faceache! Hurry an' get over here! We're goin' on an adventure." He smirked.

"Oooo," Vladimir's eyes widened, staring at his aunt in shock. "You can't say bad words, Titi." His voice droned.
"Huh? Oh, sorry." Vicky's eyes didn't leave the television screen. "Finish your oatmeal," came her monotone reply, her mind was stuck in disbelief. Somehow, it didn't surprise her that Red Goggles had seemingly been stalking the Gorillaz crew, Murdoc in particular, but what the devil did that have to do with her? Any trace of a relationship she had, had with either of them, romantic or not, had died…over four years ago.
The video ended, Murdoc and 2D in the sea, having escaped from the very thing chasing her.
"Titi, can I play with the Legos?"
"Yeah, yeah, go." Vicky turned off the TV, her nerves shocked and having more questions than ever.
Ok, ok. Try to think, if whatever was stalking her, had been chasing after the Gorillaz, there had to be some connection right? Vicky nodded to herself, walking to the balcony to light a half-smoked cigarette. She rubbed her hands over her eyes. Think! Murdoc had been chased by pirates, that's why she had been locked in Kong, then something about not paying them? This was ridiculous! Vicky was trying, but she couldn't find the connection. Why now? Why after all these years? What could she have, that connected Vicky with Murdoc, and had them both being chased?
Pirates, owing, Murdoc, payment…payment…Murdoc…
Didn't he say something about selling his soul?
Vicky's eyes widened, the cigarette nearly falling out of her mouth. That had to be it. The idea was a little far-fetched, but she couldn't think of any other reason. With any luck, she would be wrong, but as she re-entered the apartment, her gut told her she wasn't and it worried her.
Worried her all the way into Vladimir's make-shift room, where–when she entered–she nearly screamed at seeing Red Goggles standing in front of the window? That was impossible, they were on a third floor apartment. Not that she had time to worry about that. Her scream had scared appearance had scared Vladimir, who was now crying, and Vicky ran to grab him but when she looked up, Goggles was gone.
Just like last time, he had made himself very evident but had vanished before she could proceed beyond extreme anxiety. Vicky gripped onto Vladimir, holding him as tightly against her and she could, attempting to calm not only the child but herself as well. Her heart pounded and she closed her eyes tightly, wishing everything to go away, shushing the child as she did. He hadn't entered the room, didn't look like he was going to, but he was steadily getting closer. Vicky would have to be ready for anything.
Wiping the wet streaks from her face, she looked at Vladimir. "Are you ok, bebe?" She sniffed.
"Uh-huh." Vladimir shook his head positively, rubbing his nose with his hand.
"You sure? You're not hurt?" Vicky tried looking him over, but stopped when the little boy shook his head from left to right. No.
"Titi, what happened?" The toddler looked up at his aunt, his light brown eyes searching his aunt's slightly darker ones. Vicky understood, he was frightened, confused, but he didn't know what had happened. He hadn't seen the man in his window. She was both happy and upset at the comprehension.
"Nothing, Titi just got," she bit the corner of her lip. "Titi got scared ok?"
Vladimir look down at his lap, sniffing back his tears. "I'm scared."
"No, bebe." She cooed, trying to smile past her beating heart. "I'm here ok, nothing will happen to you while I'm here, ok?" The tot looked unsure, but nonetheless agreed. "Hey," Vicky gently raised his face to look at her. "It's been a busy day, what say you we take a nap? Huh? Wanna take a nap in Titi's bed?"
Vladimir bit his lip, similarly to how Vicky did, before agreeing and holding out his arms to be carried.
He was so young, so innocent at times, but he was smart, he knew when something was wrong. Vicky knew, though, it didn't take away from the fact that this small three-year-old would be depending on her, now more than ever. And she would protect him with the courage she couldn't find before. Red Eyes would be back, it was just a matter of time and Vicky knew he'd be back for the boy.
Lying on her large bed, Vicky lifted the thick comforter over her and Vladimir, hugging him tightly against her.
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Big Girls Don't Cry