S.P.A.R.K - Episode 1 - INTRO 1/3 in Written Form

“Heeey!” calls out from a jolly gratuitous figure in a doorway holding an array of clothing, startling another figure. Provoked by the other’s sudden outburst bumbling up from his humped position in a desk, “What! What! What, is it Bolton…” upset and distraught by Bolton’s rude interruption, they get his reply, “Oh I was just curious about what you were writing about in here, but I also thought, shouldn’t you be heading off to work today?” Bolton gave the figure some time to think, quietly snickering to himself as if this was a common occurrence. The figure began to look off to the side, lost in thought as he pondered, it wouldn’t take long to realize his situation. The figures eyes widened as he hurried jumped out of his seat. They began grabbing papers from off their bed the papers were stricken in words and scribbles abound, along with keys and a phone, stuffing as many things as he could in only a few seconds, into a worn-down sewn back-bag. Before Bolton could even step out of the way they rushed past him. Bursting through a furnished hallway into an atrium of sorts the figure desperately ran towards a door laden with a mat in front of it with a hanger for jackets and such. He grabs a jacket from the hangers and pats himself down not noticing the others in the room, one of which calls out to him lovingly, “Spark dear! Stay safe! Don’t push yourself too hard!” hardly hearing as they swing open the door and swoop out. After the racing figure leaps out, another figure in the atrium comments to the lovingly speaker “Don’t worry about him too much dear.” “I know, but you know he’s been trying so hard to keep that job lately, writing means a lot to him you know.”   Spark then bolts right running along the old sidewalk to the transport docks at the edge of the district. “I can’t be late again, crap this has already happened like 1, 2, 3, Ugh! Counting has to just be getting irrelevant at this point!” crying out at the end He tries to reach into his back-bag as he runs up the road. Spark finally gets a hold on his phone and opens it sliding through pages as he dials a number and bringing up to where he can hear, ringing… ringing… ringing… “Please please please pick up!” Spark awaits manically. “Hey Sparkie”, a muffled voice ruffles over the phone, “Hey Arbor! Can you hear me ou-” “Wait just a second, let me guess, you’re almost late to work and you need us to give you a ride” “Yes! That would be wonderful” “Would it be though” Their tone insisting that he may be in for something, “How many times has it been now Spark? 4, 5, 6, times, do I need to keep going?” “Look I promise I won’t be late ever again” “Mhmm, and last time was “I’ll never be late again”, are we gonna go on?” “Arbor I’m really really sorry, I’ll do anything to get to work on time” “Really?” “Really!” “Alright then, I’m not gonna let you know what though until I’m ready to ask you.” *giggiling* A deep feeling settles inside Spark, “On second thought Arbor, I think I’ll just ask Pea-” The phone goes silent. “Dang it! She’s not gonna let me live another day if I don’t let her take me now, She’s probably already out the door… ugh.” The tone sets in on Spark, but he shakes it off and gets back on his phone opening an application, as he comes upon the docks, a map begins loading on the screen, with a solid blue dot and a red blip that starts appearing on the edge of the screen running parallel to the dock. Arriving at the dock as the red blip comes closer, Sparks begins to prepare himself a bit. Watching the blip, as it is almost on top of the blue dot, Spark sprints towards the end of the dock, and suddenly he jumps, off the metal grating of the docks to the foggy sky below, and without and hesitation, is swooped up by a large creature. In the slight grip of a green and yellow blob, humming from the speed, the creature begins to speed up. Spark grabs onto a rope strapped to the creature’s leg and begins to climb, from the scaley underbelly and legs to the feathery back of the beast, which on the back lies a sort of basket with a driver, strange material of the basket takes Spark by surprise opposed to his sudden abduction. Before he observes further though he finishes his climb into said casket, hearing the rapidly whisking wind as the beast flies. “Late for your job, and early on my catch, just what kind of image are you trying to set.” says the driver, snickering. “Thanks Arbor, but    Cutting to the end of their talk because I can’t figure out a conversation here.   … “Uh, hey, the turn on the right”