Author Note:

This chapter was really fun to write, I hope you enjoy it as much as I did XP The plot is going to start picking up now, here's where I diverge from the plot of Ib and delve into my own. Hopefully it doesn't get boring...

Love chu all~ Keep Reading :)

~Scar

Chapter 9:

Garry groaned and tried to push the foreign weight off of his body. Something had fallen on top of him. That was a first. His hand brushed against a smaller, more porcelain one. It was then that he noticed that it wasn't actually a creature on top of him, but that it was a human being. "Oh!" He exclaimed, as he looked the girl up and down. She was tall, she looked to be in her early twentys, with long dark brown hair and shimmering ruby-red eyes. She was attractive, and had an attitude of stoic, calm clarity. "Miss... er-" It was then that Garry realized that in all of their adventures together, he had never once asked what Ib's last name was. The woman who was now sitting on his chest was obviously her mother, or was it? She was a bit too young (as in, A LOT) to have an eight-year old daughter... but the resemblance was striking, so who could this girl be? "Ummm... hello."

Ib bit back a cry of surprise, the man that was squirming under her fingertips now was familiar, extremely familiar. She shifted, almost against her will, and touched his face softly. The Forgotten Portrait... It was him. Every detail, the coat that was strewn lazily across his stomach, the lavender hair, the long, dark lashes, and the thin, pale lips. "Who are you?" She asked, looking down at him, a slight blush rising to her cheeks as she realized that she was pinning him down. "Oh, er- sorry about that," she scrambled off of him, her back pressing against the dark wall of the corridor.

"Don't worry about it," he smiled brightly, sitting up, "my name is Garry." The name felt soft and familiar in her mouth when she thought it. Garry. It was like rock candy, sharp and edgy, but sweet and melty at the same time.

"Do you have a last name?" She questioned, desperately wanting to know more. Anything, everything about him, the man who she had drawn so many times, the face that was so foreignly familiar.

"I have one, but I don't really use it anymore." Ib nodded, not wanting to push him too far, to scare him away. "Anyways, enough about me, what's your name?" Ib extended a hand, butterflies clouding her stomach as he extended his to meet it. His skin was cold, icy and smooth as marble. She lingered for a second more than necessary.

"Ib. That's my name," she said brusquely, not going into her last name either, it was a complicated situation. Garry looked puzzled, extremely puzzled.

"Ib? That's strange... I didn't know it was such a common name, what are the odds?" He laughed slightly, his tousled purple hair falling into his eyes, Ib resisted the urge to push it away.

"The odds?" She asked curiously, trying not to stare.

"I met a younger girl here, she was about eight years old, we travelled together for a while, but got split up; I don't know where she is now..." He scratched his head, and Ib admired the way his tank top clung to his muscular chest. She forced herself to look away.

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, and the strange thing is, she looked kind of like you too..." The puzzled look returned to his eyes.

"Why is that so odd?"

"Because her name was also Ib." They stared at each other blankly. "How old are you?"

"22."

Garry's puzzled features became even more puzzled, he leaned forwards, his eyes widening slightly. "Ib?" She blinked twice. Her memories were returning slowly, and he was in a lot of them.

"Garry..." She took an object from her jacket pocket, she had never understood why she kept it, or why she even had it in the first place; but she knew now. She pressed it into his hand. "It's been a long time, hasn't it?"

Garry just stared at the lighter in his hand in utter disbelief.

I slept WAY past my alarm clock this time.

/\-*~*-*~*-*~*-/\

Black's nails lightly grazed the petal that had mixed into the acid puddle on the floor, she hissed and growled under her breath. White didn't turn.

"Well get to work, you good for nothing monster." White exhaled a dark blackish stream of purple. "I called you here for a reason, didn't I?" Black nodded, plucking the brush from White's fingers, they both hissed as their opposite color touched their skin. White moved to the side, allowing Black more room. The other Ladies just sat there, mouth's slightly open in disbelief, as Black smeared a stroke of the putrid paint onto the canvas. The brush flowed across the white embroidery smoothly, quickly, soon there was a base color of complete gray. Black turned her head towards White, and gurgled something. Black paint dripped down her chin, sliding down through her uneven stitched mouth. Splash. Hiss. Yellow watched it dissolve into the wood. "Yes, it's over there," White indicated to another tub of paint that hadn't been brought in by any of the Ladies, White must have left it there. Black plunged the brush, still coated with gray, into the can. When she lifted it out, it was coated in yellow. She quickly got back to work.

/\-*~*-*~*-*~*-/\

At first it had felt like she was being shaken awake, like cold, dark hands had gripped her shoulders and jerked them back and forth. It was like that for a few days, before it started to hurt. Little needles were tearing holes in her, ripping through her dress, biting into her skin, and thrusting through the muscle and bone. It had hurt, but it was bearable. This was just hell. Droplets of acid were splashing onto her skin every second, wherever the blackish stuff touched would grow cold and turn gray. Mary didn't like it one bit. A big fat one hit her in the nose, dissolving through her skin and changing its beautiful color. She bit back a scream. What good would screaming do? She had been trapped, all alone in the darkness, but now that the darkness was pulling her back, she almost missed her situation before. Maybe this was death. How did paintings die? Could they die? Splash. Her muscles clenched with pain. The rate at which the liquid was coming had increased, there were more and more of the drops by the second. In one of those agonizing seconds, she finally realized what was happening.

She welcomed the pain a bit more after that.