SCREECK.
John bolted upright in his chair, his heart pounding harshly against his ribcage in fright. There was a flash of confusion, one always associated with the first few moments after a suddenly and unsuspected awakening. He forgot he was sitting at his desk, and he forgot he should move with care. The loose leg on his chair popped out, sending him tumbling backwards in a humorous display of childish almost curse words and long flailing limbs. His head struck the wooden floor with enough force to crack loudly, leaving him momentarily dazed and blinded.
SCREECK.
The noise echoed into his room again, and this time he recognized it as the familiar sound of his rusty fire escape ladder grinding against the metal edges of his window. He sat up, rubbing the forming bump on the back of his head, blue eyes narrowed and buck teeth biting lightly into his bottom lip as they always did when he was thinking. How long had he been asleep? He swore he'd only been meaning to blink.
SCREECK.
Oh, right. He should probably get that. John hopped back to his feet, stretching out his long, lanky teenage form before heading towards the distinctive sound. He hopped over a small pile of clothes between his desk and the doorway, took a sharp left when he reached the hallway, took care to leap over the broken board jutting up about six feet from his door, and slid the rest of the way to the window. He tugged the metal cover up and stuck his head out the opening, the glass of the window having long ago shattered and never been replaced. Standing on the rusty, loose ladder was a small female creature, about the size of a ten year old human. She was almost humanoid in shape, with webbed hands and black eyes and a mouth too large for her flat face. Her skin was a bright yellow, looking just a bit damp, where it wasn't covered by her hooded cloak. John smiled and held his hand out.
"Hello, Casey. Sorry, I must've dozed off!" he said cheerily as he helped her into the house.
Casey was a Salmanderin. They usually lived in large groups at the edges of Sessions, or cities, though that was a really old term. They were permitted to do so mostly because the Baroness, ruler of all mankind, saw them as cheap labor that posed little threat. John had found Casey when she was just a baby 'mander, all alone and far from any Salmanderin groves. Dad figured she must've been orphaned or abandoned, so they'd brought her home and taken care of her. She came and went nowadays, occasionally spending a few nights in the nearest grove, but she always came home before too long. Once Casey's feet were firmly and safely planted on the floor, John let her go and made a dash back to his bedroom.
"I'll get you a snack in a second! I just have to fix that stupid chair again. Someone's seriously going to hurt themselves with that thing one day." He laughed as he hopped over the pile of clothes again and bent over to retrieve the lost chair leg.
The chair had been well used when he'd gotten it at the age of seven. Now that he was sixteen, the chair was in far worse shape than ever. He slammed the leg back into place, flipped the chair right side up, and gave it a few raps to knock the peg into place. One day he'd get a new chair, but for now, such a thing is a luxury they couldn't afford. Chairs were manufactured in a very far off Session, meaning their prices in this one were sky high. Things like baking goods, though, were produced in this Session, and were therefore dirt cheap for them, but incredibly expensive in Sessions such as where chairs were produced. Such vast differences in the Sessions economies caused a lot of problems, such as constant shortages and surpluses of all kinds. But there wasn't much anyone could do to change the way the Baroness wanted things done, so it was best not to dwell on it too much. John hopped over the clothes yet again, heading straight down the steps two at a time. When he reached the bottom, he could see right into the kitchen, where Casey was folding her cloak and hanging it over one of the kitchen chairs. John hurried into the kitchen before she could get the snack herself, going for one of the four different cakes on the counter. When Dad went out of Session for work, he always left no less than two cakes and a pie in the kitchen.
Casey smiled and sat down, crossing her legs on the chair. John plopped a large piece of red velvet cake onto a plate, and plopped it down in front of her. She dug in quickly, trying not to make too much of a mess with the crumbs. She was about half way through it before she seemed to remember herself, and swallowed, and said in a surprisingly clear, but quiet voice, "Thank you, John."
"No problem, Casey! Dad's out for awhile this time. How about we watch a movie?" John gave a wide, goofy grin, but it faltered a bit when Casey's eyes flashed towards him almost guiltily, before returning to her cake.
"Um… I actually have some things I need to do. I hope you don't mind… I'm sorry." She apologized in her soft voice, one she rarely used with anyone other than the Egberts.
John's good mood deflated a bit. Usually Casey stayed home with him when Dad left the Session, but recently she's been spending less time at home and more time at groves with other Salmanderins. He knew she was growing up and it was good for her to spend time with others like her, but it was sort of sad to think that one day… she might choose not to come back. He shook that painful thought away, bouncing back with a smile as bright as ever.
"Its fine, Case! You owe me a movie night next time, though. I'll even let you choose."
Casey gave a small smile and nodded, her eyes flashing towards the door. John was a bit disheartened that she had to leave so soon, but he just kept on smiling when he said, "It's alright, you can go."
Casey hopped to her feet, grabbing her plate and hurrying to dump it in the sink. She gave John a hug, and took off for the door.
"Don't forget your cloak!" John yelled after her.
Casey caught the cloak in her fingers without stopping and was gone in seconds. John sighed at the empty kitchen, and strolled out into the den to grab his own cloak. Or, what had been a cloak. After a few alterations by his friend Rose, who lived on the other side of the Session, it could now be pulled over his head, and hung just past his waist. It was a bright blue shade, with a ridiculously long hood that he thought was brilliant. He pulled it up for now, and slipped out the door. He scanned the empty expanse of the mostly abandoned houses around him before he turned and sprinted away from them. It only took him twelve minutes of running before he reached it. He slowed to a stop, and looked up.
Stretching from the ground to far into the sky was a barely visible, shimmering wall of energy of an unknown sort. It was the Baroness' doing, and she never told a soul how she did it. No one was ever allowed to leave the city without a permit. Even those who were given permits, like his father, were only allowed to leave for pre-approved reasons, and traveled using guarded streamlines from shielded city to city. It was forbidden for anyone to travel outside of mapped and guarded perimeters. The world outside the Baroness's control was dangerous, unpredictable, full of strange creatures, home of trolls, even. It had been so many years since the disaster that sent mankind scrambling behind force fields for protection, that no one remembered living otherwise, nor what it was they were truly hiding from. The shields that guarded each city were designed to keep all things living both in and out. Escape was just as difficult as invasion, at least in theory. But there was one thing that was always allowed to pass through, one thing that could never be stopped or controlled. John smiled, his eyes flashing brightly in the lime light of the sun. They began to glow, a soft blue color that soon spread from the confines of his eyes to his face, to his head, to his whole body. He took a step forward, passing through the shield with ease. There was a familiar thrill in his stomach, one that came with such glimpses of freedom, of bending such long-set laws. The air rushed to his call, shaking his hair, his clothes, making him grin even as it left him looking even more disheveled than before. Yes, there was one thing even the Baroness herself couldn't control. The wind would always be free.
Obviously I don't own Homestuck.
Its late and I have testing tomorrow so I'll make an actual note tomorrow probably.