The Mundane Life - Finding Oneself
Yaaaay. It's chapter two! Or one, I guess, since the other one was just a prologue. This one I worked on today nonstop (avoiding summer homework--UGH). It's a little longer (key word: little)... Ummm... Okay, I'm done on commentary. Revieeeeew, please. Oh, and enjoy!
Disclaimer: No ownage of teh SO3. insert emoticon here
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Step 1: Finding Oneself
It was dark. However, upon closer inspection one could see that it was in fact not dark at all, and that it was actually (and quite surprisingly) midday. The endless shades of grey, from ebony to steel, could have fooled anyone—for not a ray of sun or any other colors of the spectrum, for that matter, were present—into believing that it was well into the evening. The only thing that betrayed this notion was the people. The crowd. The insanely loud and boisterous atmosphere. This was what Nel woke up to.
"Ow... What—what happened?" She started. Then, as if suddenly remembering a very important but easily misplaced item, she sat up and began frantically looking around. Grey. More grey. Oh look, a weed. It was a greenish-grey (which is very different from a grayish-green). Finally, her eyes rested on the profile of a tall figure resting against the wall several feet away from her.
"Looking for me?" It was Albel, looking very out of place among the slabs of drab and dreary color (or lack of). He was leaning on the cement wall of an impossibly tall building, in a seemingly calculated pose only reserved for the most dramatic of people. His head was bowed so that his chin was nearly resting on his chest, his arms were expertly crossed, and his foot was tapping on the ground with a quiet urgency while his contradictorily calm sidelong gaze locked onto Nel's flustered face. All pulled off with the cool, stoic flair that Albel had mastered over the years.
There was a blur of red and Albel was shocked to find Nel unexpectedly beside him, and she was leaning ever closer—her hand tightly grasping his slender wrist. Her other hand found its way to his clenched hand and entwined its fingers with his. He froze.
"Oh, thank Apris..." Nel abruptly pulled away before Albel could even protest to her 'friendly' actions, and he hastily recovered from his dumbfounded silence.
"My, my. And when did this little crush appear?" Albel snorted, "Don't fall too hard, woman. You'll only get burned." He was trying hard to exude manly confidence, yet he shifted uneasily from his spot.
Nel's brows furrowed as she held up an ice-blue, milky sphere. It was the orb. But wait. Albel frowned. Wasn't he the one with the orb?
"What are you talking about, Nox? I was worried about this. Knowing you, I thought you would've been kicking it around by now. Don't be foolish," Nel chided.
Deciding to pretend that the last conversation conveniently didn't happen, Albel changed the subject, "Where the hell are we?" This effectively caused Nel to drop the subject, as it reminded her that the two of them were lost and that they were most definitely not in Elicoor anymore. Pocketing the little gem taken from Albel's fist, she glanced around at their surroundings. They were in an alley of some sort, which led out into a highly populated street where droves of pedestrians jostled each other, paying no attention to the pair whatsoever. The air was not fresh and clean as Elicoor's had been, and Nel wrinkled her nose as an overwhelming wall of smog overtook her.
"You're right. Where are we...? And what happened?" A thought came to her, and she turned to glance at Albel, "You think it was the orb? Obviously, it must have some kind of power." She recalled the unnerving sense of urgency in their voices when King Arzei and Her Highness had laid out the mission's objectives for the two warriors.
"Bah. Don't ask me, fool. How should I know?" Albel was becoming irritated with the situation and, having lost all patience, stalked towards the street and brusquely grabbed a random passerby by the collar.
"Where the hell are we, maggot? Say something!"
The victim, a rather thin and pasty man who had seen one too many of his favorite cop shows and was ready for the worst, began spluttering and tearing up in the eyes. Albel growled and shoved the man aside. He was wicked, but bullying the overtly weak was beneath even him. He would find someone else with a little more backbone.
Upon seeing that he was indeed safe and free to run from any imminent danger, the man miraculously (and metaphorically) grew a spine. He stumbled a ways from Albel and somewhat bravely (and foolishly) called, "Go to hell, transvestite!" And he instantly took flight, disappearing into the crowd.
Albel bristled, furious. Luckily for the pasty man, Nel stepped in. She calmly placed a hand from behind on Albel's shoulder and asked a kind-looking woman, "Excuse me, could you tell us where we are? He's a bit lost," at this she nodded at Albel, who began to object.
The woman, already late for work and thus having no patience for a couple of oddly dressed strangers, curtly said, "You're in New York." Then, after inspecting more closely their strange and very foreign apparel, the woman felt guilty and caddish and decided to help some more by adding, "You know, there's a place just around the corner that might be able to help you. You should check there."
After the woman left, Nel pulled Albel by the arm back into the alley and exclaimed, "New York! Fayt mentioned it once, remember? That means we must be on—what's it called—Earth? Is that it? What are we going to do?"
"No. I don't remember. And I don't care. Did you hear what that worm called me? A transvestite!" Albel's mind was on something else: his pride, "He dares to call me, Albel the Wicked, a transvestite? I'm going to kill that spineless little maggot—"
Nel was beginning to lose her patience too. "That's just it! He doesn't know that you're Albel the Wicked. All he sees is a bony, pale, and angry man in a skirt! Anyone could've made the same mistake—" She caught herself, hoping she didn't go too far, and tamely said, "Just... forget your pride, and let's go. We're going to that place around the corner for some help."
She made her way through the crowd not looking (or caring) to see if her companion with the bruised ego was following. He had lapsed into yet another brooding silence before she had left him in the alley. She sighed, tired of putting up with the raging hunk of testosterone and of all the stares she was accumulating. It was the hair. Damn the bright red hair.
Finally, Nel turned the corner and craned her neck to find any sign that hinted at 'help'. She found one.
It read, "SMITH'S DANCERS: ADULT ONLY".
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Hahaha, it was a surprise ending... Bet you can guess what's gonna happen next. ;-) Or... not!
I realize that I'm a bit wordy, without actually pursuing the story. Wow, a whole chapter on finding out where they are! Sorry, please bear with me. I'm also trying to keep Albel and Nel in character, but I wonder if it's actually working... Oh well. Peace!
