Small Lives, Large Lives [Work/Morning]

The sextuplet of sturdy legs flailed wildly, quickly flipping their owner back upright. The initial shock of the sudden drop seemed to subside, as long antennae felt about, trying to get a sense of what was going on in he world around it. The soil beneath was softy, a little clumpy, and freshly moistened. There was something else within reach, soft, moist, perhaps some moss. Further searching found something sturdier, a little coarse, perhaps some wood, or maybe a rock.

Then there was something. Feelers bumping into something small, and that something moving away. But it didn't seem to care, its sense picking up something, the smell of something edible. A smell toward which its legs would carry it. But then its feelers felt something again. another of the small things. But this time, it didn't move like before. No, it clung, and suddenly a fresh sensation coursed down the sensitive organ. A burning sensation. It shook, but the sensation didn't stop, so it bolted forward, food forgotten.

Respite came, the clingy thing having let go. But now it was alert. Feelers lashed out, wild and frantic, searching for a threat. But with how small they were, even it couldn't find them. More burning, this time in the middle left leg. Again it bolted, but the burning only got worse. Then more burning joined it in other limbs. It thrashed, but it only got worse. The feelers found them now, more of the small things, many more. Swarming, they climbed, more burning, spreading from the limbs to the body. The spiked limbs kicked, launching it onto its back by accident. It kicked, thrashed, twisted and turned, but the mass of attackers didn't relent. The thrashing only grew harder, as the burning increased, now joined by a tearing sensation. Now even if its feelers were under assault. Burning, tearing. Burning, tearing. Thrashing, burning, tearing. Kicking, thrashing, burning, tearing. Kicking, burning, tearing. Kicking, tearing.

The green eyes stared down intently, a look of glee behind the green beads as the ant armada swarmed the live roach with ferocity and efficiency that would put many military units to shame. Despite being many, many times the size, the cockroach never stood a chance. Even as its legs thrashed, and its segmented body twisted in a feeble attempt of defense, sharps stingers would pump formic acid into the helpless thing, while strong jaws began to tear into the soft flesh of its joints, beginning the slow process of thorough dismantlement even as the roach futilely tried to cling to life.

"That's it, eat up, my dears." The tone of utter endearment was lost upon the ants, as it was to the room that was empty of human presence aside from himself. He continued to stare, kneeling down a little, his face inches from the glass of the terrarium as the cockroach still thrashed, albeit much weaker."Oh, but that's not all..." His voice was almost like a parent talking to a child. "Look what I have here. It's your favorite, a mealworm."He almost coo'd as he lowered his tweezer-holding hand down into the terrarium, a small tan-colored larva thrashing at it's tightly clenched tips.

He would lower it further and further, until the larva was just touching the soil, and the fervent ant hordes began climbing onto it, ripping and tearing into soft, nutritious flesh. The tweezers loosened their grasp, dropping the mealworm to its horrid fate. With the cockroach having kicked up the colony into a frenzy, the worm was swarmed quick, hardly visible anymore in moments.

The watch on his wrist beeped, snapping Xander away from the trance of witnessing the frenzied feeding. He set the tweezers down onto paper towel, next to several precisely organized tools, before he raised his hand to look at the watch face. 11 AM. "Already?" His tone seemed more disappointed than anything. His gaze shifted to his left, to the door leading out of his room, and then to the right, to the terrarium. He then sighed. A click of a button silenced the beeping, and he'd grab a small plastic pipette, dipping it into a glass bowl filled with water. Water sucked up into the pipette, before he then shifted the tool into the terrarium, and emptied its content into a small stone bowl that had been embedded into the soil that the colony called home. The pipette was set back down into place, and the door soon closed, leaving the colony in peace with their meal.

A groan emitted from he man's lips as he kneeled down to pick up the mail that had laid on the floor for at least a couple of hours. Junk mail, junk mail, junk mail, bill, junk mail, rmeidner for a bill, junk mail, junk mail, junk- "Oh?" His almost automated sorting of the mail was interrupted as he stopped to read one of them. A limited supply of various vegatables, s much a 90% off, but only today? His expression lightened slightly from the frown it had been. He set that one aside. Junk mail, junk mail, neighbor's junk mail, bill, and an envelope.

The envelope tore open with practiced ease, and inside was the coveted check. He wondered where the hell the stupid thing had been. God damn incompetent postal workers, Why he oughta... Xander drew a deep breath, and slowly let it out. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in.... Breathe out. He finished sorting through the mail, setting the bills into one pile along with the check as he went to get his shoes.

"I'll be back in an hour." He called out through the door before pushing it closed. His hands then slipped into the pockets of the old denim jacket as he walked down the stairs and onto the street, staring down the street and into the city beyond. His gaze hung there, a sigh drawn out as his expression went blank. A small touch on his leg, and a noise brought him back into the moment, his gaze dropping to see a small kitten, white and fluffy, snuggling against his leg. For a moment he merely stared, before his face twisted. "Ugh, get lost." His other foot pulled back and a sharp, pained cry ran from the kitten as his kick sent it flying several feet into a nearby bush. He merely looked it way for a moment, his face a mask of disgust, before he resumed walking. The check wasn't gonna cash itself, or the groceries just walk home on their own.