So, All-Stars has begun and to be honest, I'm not surprised neither Dawn nor B were invited to the party. Sure Dawn was popular amongst fans, but it's clear the writers are playing her to be the "neo-Noah", as in, the character that is purposefully shafted to bait fans into wanting more and more of said character. You know what I mean.
Now, admittedly speaking, I haven't tried this sort of thing in a long time, and you may ask, have I grown since the ne'er-do-well days of spending nights typing up stories during an otherwise boring summer? Considering it is twenty-seven past ten at the time of this writing, I'd argue no.
Lurkers, if you'd like to read more of this, or just want to help me out, I plead that you review. It helps me, it helps you because if it's a real good review, I'll respond back, and make you feel good about yourself. You scratch my back, only natural I do your's, now let's read some freaking Bawn.
Word Count: 747 words.
The Convoluted Ideals of Garden Weeding and The Like
'It is unfortunate however, that your contract has not been renewed for the 2013-2014 competing season. We appreciate your cooperation and hope that you'll be able to come into business with us during a later televising season. Thank you.
To her, the news comes off as anything but bad, in fact, it's almost a blessing to the eyes.
Dawn smiles, and discards the newly-received letter into the wastebin alongside automated advertisements, scams, and other assorted disposable mail and what have you.
It goes without saying that she doesn't really see herself as a worthy contender in the first place, much less a star. Perhaps by the millions of people who were in awe to see such a natural beauty in an unnatural beast of a competition, but truth lies deeper than just the face-value of smooth, pale skin.
Dawn looks behind her to the door which leads to the backyard.
"He still isn't back yet."
She takes the extended time to do a bit of meditating whilst paying mild attention to a morning news broadcast. Occasionally, promos come on for the show she once saw as an opportunity to act as a symbolic savior for the animals which she harbors such admiration for.
But of course, it's mostly behind her, and she can only hope that whoever was unlucky enough to receive a return invitation in the form of an updated contract, protect themselves throughout the entirety of their wretched stay.
It wasn't a complete loss, however. In the end, some profit was made. It was without a doubt that that small margin of success had to involve some bizarre interactions with a few unsavory online individuals, but it was money well donated nonetheless.
At that moment, he just so happens to come inside. Comically enough, he falls to the ground, panting heavily. A bundle of tangled weeds sits atop his head, mixed with some dirt and nutrients.
"It's not a delight to make me worried, you know." she points out as she makes her way to him.
A pair of light, gentle hands caresses B's head, and he looks up with the most sheepish of smiles, a sort of face that communicates a message, a message in which he apologizes for any misunderstanding.
Dawn deciphers, and is accepting.
After helping him up, the duo engage in tidying up whatever amounts of dirt and roots managed to pool on the floor, before grouping it all in a trash bag.
His aura, it radiates a question.
Dawn answers it with another, pertaining to a form of confirmation.
"You do know that un-disposed weeds contribute to two and a half percent of the trash in the world, don't you? It would be wise of us to get rid of these properly, and necessary to help all other plant life grow."
B nods in understanding, and proceeds to lightly dust himself. A hard day's work pays off in the form of a petite moonchild.
Dawn picks a leftover root from his hat.
"You didn't have to do all that, you know."
He just kind of shrugs, brushing it off as a simple volunteering act of kindness.
In no time do the two find themselves in the living room, two glasses of sweet tea sitting on the coffee table atop a nicely decorated tray. The ice has melted, and the lemon slice hasn't a bit of juice left to squeeze out, but it's satisfactory nonetheless.
As they meditate, (a concept that's taken him a while to get accustomed to.) she peeps open one eye.
"I could have helped, you didn't have to insist the entire load on yourself. Just what were you trying to prove?"
It doesn't take long for his intriguing aura to surrender and admit defeat. They usually attempt to keep arguing at a low and pacifism to a high, but if it ever comes to a disagreement, he's usually the first to crack.
After reading it, she becomes surprised, and admittedly, flattered towards him. B isn't typically the one to emote on the outside, but whatever's on the inside definitely more than makes up for it.
She pokes his cheek, which while disrupts his meditation, also sparks a small red hue.
"You don't have to impress me like that anymore. I already found myself in that state of mind back at the camp."
His next thoughts are a prompt of interest, which she tackles with a simple response.
"It was around the moment you cut the totem pole."