Chapter Text
It is the golden hour on Cracker Island. The sun shines a soft yellow on the sparkling ocean.
Murdoc is wearing only a pair of white briefs with red hearts on it and a pair of sandals with his gnarly feet out, tending to the garden's flowerbeds and humming to himself. Water sprinkles out the rose of his watering can and onto pink flowers and into the soil they’re planted in.
…
“What the blazes?” Murdoc spots a most peculiar sight in the distance. An outsider lying on the sandy shore of the island. It appears this person got washed up and is unconscious.
“Hmm. I suppose god set our paths to cross…” He sets his watering can down and makes his way to the shore towards whoever is lying down on the sand.
Getting a closer look, he unearths a pretty boy appearing to be in his twenties with long dark hair and pale skin in a pair of swim trunks from the haze of the sun and obscurity of distance.
“What a nice surprise. Another lamb to help me in my chambers. I can’t leave this poor dear out to bake in the sun…”
He looks at how this boy’s equally fat and muscly thighs fill out his trunks and feels a thud in his chest. Them legs look good for snacking on.
“Quite a sexy one I’ll give ‘em that.”
The body he’s lookin’ at is much sexier than that old hag’s Moonflower. Aura too.
Murdoc carries the stranger on his back to the Silver Lake Mansion; he takes note of the boy’s crotch pressing against his butt but doesn’t commence anything dirty yet… That would not be gentlemanly. He heaves quite a lot along the way.
– – –
The cute boy is now lying down on a folding chair in the shade of a palm tree. Murdoc didn’t want his sandy ass tracking sand everywhere inside so he chose an outdoor spot to leave him. He also left him a glass of water and a little charcuterie board with a note next to it on a folding table, reading:
You washed up on the shore. Help yourself to some snacks so you can recover, cheers. x -Murdoc Niccals
– – –
A man in his fifties is spying on the unconscious boy with a pair of binoculars from a balcony–that man is Murdoc Niccals. He ogles the young adult’s lithe pale body, admiring his chest, nipples, small belly, wide hips, and thick thighs. He can only imagine what his butt looks like.
“Lad is so sexy. I could just eat him up–could. Maybe render the fat in them legs into tallow.” He jokes, chuckling to himself. Hawhawhawhaw.
“Wonder if he’s even into men. Or older men at that. Hm.”
– – –
The young male slowly gains consciousness–his eyes opening with fuzzy vision to a golden sky. A bumblebee is gently resting on the tip of his nose; it flies away without stinging him.
“Hm…mm?”
He turns his head to see slices of cheese, meat, and some fruits on a wooden tray and a full glass of water. After a minute he reads the note.
“Oh, Murdoc Niccals? Is this Cracker Island? My favourite band is here–” His eyes open wide as the realization settles in.
However he chooses to not fanboy out and instead treat them humbly like any other people.
“He really gained a heart since the twenty-tens…” He starts eating up and mindfully enjoys it. He can tell the charcuterie was thoughtfully organized.
…
He decides to walk around the island before he heads to the big off-white geometric mansion on top of the hills decorated with trees, flowers and stone walls.
– – –
“Been listening to Gorillaz since I was four, when they first came out. Can’t believe I’m here where they live right now.”
Eden’s feet leave tracks in the warm sand behind him.
…
He looks at the tropical landscape and ocean reflecting the golden sky and sings quietly to himself…
“Oh joys arise the sun has come agaaain toooo hooold youuu
sailin’ out the doldrums of the week~...”
– – –
It's been about an hour since Murdoc checked on the stranger he brought over from the beach. He goes back on the balcony and looks through his binoculars to check on the lad and discovers that he’s not in the area he left him in anymore; he gasps deeply and points the binoculars erratically at other spots on the island..
“He’s awake…Where the devil did he go? I need to see him to be able to woo him. Ahhh he can be anywhere on this island!” The old bassist’s face scrunches up in anger and his teeth grid. Rrrrgh!
He sighs then takes a deep breath.
“Aghhh fuck me. Gotta go scale this place.” His green feet in sandals march away out to the distant tropical shores.