Hey guys, it's me, Agent-Pumpkin, but you probably already knew that.
Anyhow, yes, this is the next chapter to We're All Pretenders. I'm really sorry that my updates are becoming more scarce, it has to do with school kicking in again, and being pushed for time. It's my last year there, so naturally I'm going to be very busy, studying for all of my exams and putting extra effort into things. I'm sorry that this isn't very ideal for you readers, but I am aiming to get the chapters written as fast as possible. I'm under a lot of pressure these days, however, so I can guarantee updates will be few and far between, I'm afraid. Sorry for the inconvenience.
But please, review; I'd love to hear your opinion on the newest chapter; hit me up with a review if you think I deserve it. Enjoy.
X x
The girl was a mysterious one; one who was attracted to fire, her eyes burning with a unique passion, much like the ever-alive flames around them. It was odd to think one could be so totally compelled by something that could be considered such a danger to anybody in a general life-time. Fire killed things so easily... destroyed things without hassle, and so it was quite an oddity to find somebody so attached to it that she would even kill in order to defend it.
Even so, Whimsy knew that she was just a good a person as any. Talking to her for a while, leaving Wilson to trail in the background for a change, she learned that Willow just had a passion, the same as everybody else did. You had to adore something, otherwise there was no point in ever trying to achieve anything.
"I still think it's amazing that you remain so dedicated to protecting it." Whimsy smiled at the girl next to her. Walking alongside another girl was a luxury she thought she would never have again. Wilson was a joy to talk to, but conversing with a female was something else. Comfortable beyond compare.
"It's nothing," she replied, somewhat shyly as she clung to the straps of her bag that so tightly hugged her shoulders. Her bag was heavy, but she didn't see it as fit to complain; she'd been lugging it around for long enough to just accept the fact that moaning about it wouldn't change a thing. "I do love fire, but it isn't some kind of obligation for me to protect and preserve it. I just do my best to keep it as it is because I adore it so."
"But that's why it's so amazing!" the sculptor giggled, as if it was obvious. "The fact that you don't have to do it, but do anyway says a lot about you." she grinned, the friendly smile still carved into her face. It was brilliant. She loved to smile, she was generally a happy person and she dreaded the feeling of never being able to smile genuinely again due to all of her misfortune. She didn't want to be typical – she didn't want to simply bury herself in pity, and wait until she died. She wanted to live. To be free.
"If you say so..." Willow mumbled, a little bit of colour rising to her cheeks. She wasn't used to being made a fuss of, that much was for sure. As she twirled the end of her pigtail around her little finger, she smiled and decided that she liked this girl; it'd be sad when she eventually had to pass through to the next world. Then again, Willow mused, Whimsy deserved to live; it'd give her the greatest pleasure to know she had helped someone who truly deserved to be free, out of this nightmare. It was possible... but she had to keep it possible. Clinging onto her for her own selfish needs would hinder that.
Suddenly, she stopped dead. So still, and so sudden, that Wilson bumped into her.
"...is something wrong...?" the scientist questioned, the first words he had spoken in a rather long time. The fire-starter remained solid, as if witnessing something terrible, before relaxing ever so slightly, her expression grim. From beside her, Whimsy looked worried; what had caused such an out-of-place reaction?
"I'm fine...," she muttered in return, but neither of the pair looked particularly convinced. She didn't look fine. On the contrary, she looked mortified. "L-Let's just keep moving..." she added, eventually shuffling forwards once more. For a moment or two, Wilson and Whimsy did not follow, staring after her with concern. There was no way to tell why she had just stopped, but there was definitely a cause for question. After looking each other in the eye for a moment, trying to deduce something regarding Willow's odd behaviour, Wilson cleared his throat and tore his gaze away, excusing himself in a jumble of "excuse me"'s and "A-Ah"'s. Whimsy rose a brow, before shrugging and tagging on after him, not wanting to lose sight of either of them. Even so, she had an eerie feeling about her...
X x
"Still nothing?!" was the response from Maxwell as his shadow cronies returned empty handed once more. He was now perfectly certain that they had trailed out of his area by now... but how? True, the thought had been there in his mind, bright as day, but he had wanted to dismiss it for the sheer inconvenience it would cause him. However, there was no dodging reality.
He sighed outwardly, and began to tap his fingers rhythmically against the arm of his seat in annoyance. How was it even possible to trail off of his land when he owned the damn sea they had so callously thrown themselves in? It didn't make sense! He had watched them almost drown, and then had turned his head away for a moment, the next thing he knew being that they weren't anywhere to be seen. He assumed they had drowned, and had even begun to look for new victims... but then he became aware of their presences once more as Wilson resurfaced somewhere; however, he couldn't place it. Couldn't see them. Couldn't even feel them – that final connection with the pair of them was the last thing he felt before they were disconnected all together.
He sighed irately. It would probably never make sense to him.
They had been right there...
X x
"So," Wilson spoke up, having caught up to Willow. He had tried to make conversation regarding her stop earlier, but she had remained silent about it, and so he had given up, respecting her privacy as a gentleman should do. "Where did you get that lighter from? It looks awfully old." he stated. He had meant it in praise, though she glared at him from the corner of her eye, a notion that made him quite uncomfortable to say the least. She then softened once more, and looked at him properly, still leading them onwards and through the blazing hot land.
"It was my father's." she answered, truthfully enough. Wilson nodded in understanding; it only made utmost sense that she would keep it around with her. He smiled a warm smile, hoping to ease her into saying more. "...it's the last thing I have of him" Willow admitted after a short moment of silence between them. By now, Whimsy had listened in as well, looking shocked.
"Wh-What do you mean...?" Wilson asked, his eyebrows arching in a sad fashion.
"Well, all of my family passed away in a house fire," she said, looking downwards and at the red hot floor, the grass crunching softly under her worn shoes. "It was a total accident, a candle blew way out of control, and things just went on from there. And this was the only thing that they recovered." she stated, holding the lighter up a little bit. Whimsy felt pained; she couldn't imagine her mother and father dying, it'd be way too difficult for her to cope with. She would rather die with them than survive and have them all perish. She could only imagine how terribly difficult it was for Willow to do anything with herself; it was at that moment that she really, truly, aspired to be like her. To not anything hold her back, no matter how bad. It was only the right thing to do...
Wilson looked mortified as he spoke up softly. "I-I'm so sorry... if I'd have known, I never would have... a-asked you..."
"It's okay," Willow smiled, surprisingly bright. "But I don't want to talk about anything in my past... if that's all the same with you, Wilson."
The gentleman had never nodded his head so fast. But then something struck him; if a fire had taken everything away from her... how could she even stand to be near it? How could she even carry her father's lighter around, knowing that that very object could have been just as guilty in a house fire as the candle was?
"Why is it that you like fire...?" he blurted out mid-thought, before he could stop himself. He felt his hands fly over his mouth as the words slurred out. He hadn't meant to say anything, hadn't meant to voice his questions. It was supposed to be his own philosophy.
But what he didn't expect from her was a smile. And then a chuckle. And then even a soft little laugh.
"I like it, because even though it's the thing that took my parents away," she paused, looking at the flames around her with a loving spark in her blank eyes. Something that Wilson didn't think was possible. "It also makes me feel closer to them. Because it was the last thing to touch them. I didn't get to say goodbye, so staying near, and surrounded by fire, makes me feel as if my family is still there beside me. It's the only closure I will ever have really..." she sighed, though her face didn't look at all unhappy. She seemed to bask in pure joy at the fact that she was surrounded by the very thing killed her entire family off. For a younger girl, she certainly tolerated things well. Whimsy sniffed a little.
"That's really beautiful, Willow...," she mumbled, rubbing at her eyes a little. She would be lying if she said the story hadn't touched her on a very emotional level. Perhaps it was due to her being so very close to her family before she had been taken elsewhere by Maxwell. She felt even further away from them now, here in Casper's hands (or paws, if you're picky) as they worked their way to freedom. Odd, since this was their ticket back to their families, yet it felt so very far away. The closer they became, the longer the miles left to travel seemed. "I admire you so much."
The small girl smiled a gentle smile, patient and friendly.
"Thank you." she nodded simply, returned by Whimsy.
For a while, the three remained in silence, thinking over their predicament. It was without a doubt that Casper had certainly picked a decent person to accompany them to whatever they were supposed to find. As they entered what appeared to be a forest of burning trees – again, Wilson's eye was twitching at the sheer lack of rules here – Whimsy felt a nervous feeling creep up on her, similar to when Maxwell had been around her. She had detested it so strongly, she had hoped that he simply fall through the floor and have it swallow him whole. Whenever he was near her, she wanted to beat him within an inch of his life, and then leave him there, bleeding and mangled. Possibly dying.
But here, the feeling was so similar, she almost felt sick. Sick at the notorious shivers running up and down her spine. Sick at the all too familiar tingling in her fingers, and the twitching of her thumbs. Sick at the sight of smoke, reminding her of the iconic cigar he always seemed to have with him. She and him had quite a history; a dark, rather violent history, but a history nonetheless. He had been inside of her head, delved through her thoughts to his heart content... speaking of which, the feeling of him leaving her had been such a peculiar one. He was simply there one minute and then gone the next, and she could never tell when he would be back. If he would be back. Even though she was out of his grasp now, in what Casper considered "his world", she still didn't feel very safe.
That was when she was forced to stop by Wilson grabbing her shoulder and pulling her back. She staggered into him, her back hitting his chest; a moment in which she swore her heartbeat increased. The thought of being so close to him made her feel funny... fuzzy and alight with energy she had never really felt before. It was new and definitely exciting.
"Get back, my dear," he murmured, sounding all too nervous. She gulped down her minute curiosity and pushed her thoughts about him to the back of her mind for safe-keeping.
"Wh-Why...?" she stammered, not feeling him leave her like she expected. She did however, feel his grip tighten slightly, his taut fingers gripping her shoulder more protectively.
"You didn't hear it?" he asked, raising a brow. Not that she could see. "Willow and I think there's something ahead. Something... not so good."
How on Earth had she missed it? Had she really been so absorbed in her thoughts? It didn't matter though, as she heard a furious shuffle of footsteps – and they were definitely heading her way. She stiffened, feeling the familiar adrenaline course through her veins; the same substance that had been there when she had been fleeing from Maxwell's monsters, alongside Wilson. The panic was the same... that terrible, flustered panic.
"O-Oh dear," she whispered as she saw a shadow emerge in the near distance, charging towards them. She mentally prepared herself; the last thing she needed was to go on rampage, much like she had in front of Wilson, in front of Willow. She'd terrify her. Wilson, somebody quite close and personal to her, had barely been able to stand it. She quietly mumbled:
"What on Earth is that...?"
X x
Done for now. I believe Willow was explained nicely for now. Yes, I'm sorry for the shitty update, I'm VERY pushed for time, as I explained above. I have two tests tomorrow alone, sop I have been studying all day – I felt too guilty to leave the update for another day though so I hurried to finish it. I hope it at least stems your interest long enough to keep reading, and I hope to hear from you in the reviews section. Stay tuned!
~Jess~