12/28: Once again, there's just some minor revisions here. Previous AN (BTW, broke that promise. Sorry):
Sup, my beautiful followers? It's been a while since I've updated any of my stories, but just as I promised, I will try to update at least one of my stories once a month. In other, more clear words, I will try my best to post a chapter to one of my four stories a month...like, one chapter a month or something. I know, I know. Sucks, right? But I kinda have school and all and I have those classes that really know how to pile up on the work, so I can't type as much as I wish.
If this chapter seems rushed, I am very sorry. I'll probably edit it when I can. If you see any errors in this chapter, don't be afraid to tell me! I'll correct it as soon as I can! Also, CONSTRUCTIVE criticism is acceptable. I'd like to be able to write the best that I can.
The poem in this chapter was written by Pesha Leah Azoulay, who died in an absolutely tragic car crash on January 7, 2010...she was only 23 years old.
When I saw this poem, I thought that it fit Allen very well for reasons that I hope you guys pick up on, and I kinda wanted to give her a little tribute, even though it's nowhere really near January or anything.
Thank you for reading this chapter! Hopefully I can update this and other stories in the future!
-JD
It was dinner time per usual. Skinn exacted the normal "discipline" of an AKUMA due to his food not being sweet, and Jasdebi played around and continued to bother Tyki, who had to be on his fifth cigarette of the nighttime dine in. Lulubell had decided to skip dinner in favor of a nap, but this was usual and her food was already saved for her later use. The Earl was grinning at the head of the table, smiling over his assistants and laughing occasionally at their antics.
Road was the only one not normal.
No one noticed it, of course. She was looking down at her homework, a confused frown on her face, per usual. She seemed to have reached a complicated problem on her homework, but she had been forced into actually doing it herself by Lero, something she was thankful for, for once. It meant that she had a reason to frown, considering that she was thinking, even if she wasn't thinking of what "x" was.
The truth was, Road had begun an inspection of the Millennium Earl after the voice in the back of her head beckoned her to. The girl kept up an almost perfect façade to keep the Earl disillusioned, and so far it worked. In fact, it worked so well that it was only Lero that asked her one day about her lack of committing her usual habits, though she never answered him, giving him a smile instead. He never confronted her about it again. Tyki would also give her the occasional sideways glance, but he was never the type to automatically ask the question. Rather, he would watch from the sidelines and investigate, and from the gaze she felt to her right, she knew she was being watched by her…younger brother again.
She'd adopted some of the things Lero had told her, especially the part where she's the oldest. It made her feel fairly nice, so there was no reason in throwing away everything Lero had said during his rant. Of course, there were still quite a few things that confused her about what he'd said, and she would occasionally juggle the thoughts in her mind, trying to see if some of those things would apply.
So far, not much seemed correct, but she'd only been investigating for about a week. Even if she hadn't noticed anything very significant, she had taken note of one specific thing.
Fake.
Their lives, their personalities, what they did. It all seemed so…fake, so reminiscent. Like everything was an illusion. It was like every fiber of their being had been readjusted or something.
Never before in her life had she ever felt so off kilter.
"Road~! Road~! You've been quite silent, dear girl! Is your homework too hard?" the obese…thing asked her, voice groveling with that strange tone he had always had.
She put on her mask quickly, putting on an expression of irritation and a bit of laziness before glaring up at her 'caretaker'.
"Milleni, this is so hard! I don't like math at all! Plus, it's so boring!" she complained, finishing off her statement with a simple lean back into her chair and a bit of leg kicking out of frustration.
The Earl chuckled, "Dear girl, you've got to learn! You know Sheryl and I agreed that you'd have the greatest quality education that Europe could provide~! Besides, working from the inside of a school can't be all that bad! Ah, let me see this then~!"
With a perfect pout on her lips and a bit of moisture to her eyes to make them glisten, she handed him the papers, "Well, I don't like hanging around so many brats. None of them but a select few would make good dolls for me to play with…" then she clasped her hands together, her eyes sparkling unconsciously out of adoration and love, " and I know that Allen would make the best doll of all~!"
She heard a sigh come from Tyki while Jasdebi began complaining relentlessly about Allen's master, Cross, saying that everything was that man's fault and the whitette should've paid off the debts, which they still hadn't gotten around to doing completely. Skinn remained quiet, having been placated with a lollipop.
The laugh that the Earl gave off this time had a darker tone to it, "You'll have him soon enough, Road. When you do, you'll be allowed to play with him all you want~!"
It still freaked the others out when his tone would change so suddenly, something that had become a common occurrence ever since the unspeakable "Neah" incident. After it had happened, no one bothered to bring it back up. Not a single Noah wished to be on the opposite end of his wrath.
Tyki shuddered subtly, but other than that had not reaction. Jasdebi froze in their antics, staring like the Earl like a cat did at a dog. Skinn paused in his eating, a flash of fear glazing over his white eyes, before cautiously getting back to it. Road forced herself to have a reaction, eyes widening and shoulders tightening.
Honestly, she'd been expecting the change in his attitude. It happened so often those days that it had become as regular as everything else had. She hid the narrowing of her eyes, deciding to do so only in her mind. Everything was regular and fake. Nothing that happened in front of her eyes was every real anymore.
She stood from her seat, placing a cautious look perfectly on her face, "I think I'll go to bed early tonight. I'm a bit tired…"
The Earl looked up from his hunched position, the answer almost completed, "Hmm, I guess you can. Are you feeling well?"
"No," she replied, closing her eyes, "I think I'll skip tomorrow, too."
There were no arguments as she left her seat, passing behind Tyki's and Jasdebi's chairs to the double doors, opening and closing them silently as the girl departed from the dining room.
And the Millennium Earl thought nothing of it.
Tick Tock, Tick Tock,
Glancing up at the clock,
The sound it makes resounds within,
So many mixed messages lie therein.
Road walked down the hallway passing by various rooms with decorated doorposts, eyes narrowed, the usual pep-in-her-step significantly lacking its pizzazz. She had nothing to hum, nothing to sing, nothing to say, simply listening to the thundering of nature. All of her thoughts were still jumbled up in her head, mixing around in a crazy spiral of things she remembers and vacant, untouchable dreams.
Tock Tick, Tock Tick,
Does time move on slow or quick?
Looking back, time is passing all too fast,
And yet it crawls by when we'd like it to pass.
Too many things all at once, too many recorded memories were flashing in her head. Whenever she would have doubts about the Millennium Earl, the images would play in front of her face like an overused movie: you watched it so many times, you know exactly what's going to happen in the next scene.
Tick Tock, Tick Tock
That sound gives quite a shock,
When there are so many things we need to do,
Yet the day's gone by, it's almost through.
She paused in less-than-pleasurable jaunt to look at the large grandfather clock at the end of a corridor she'd never bothered to travel down. It had always been sitting there, she remembered. She really never thought much of it. It sat there, creaking away with its sad excused of a ticking sound. Occasionally, she'd become aware of it, and abhor it because if the unusually creaky noise it made, but for today she would not.
Tock Tick, Tock Tick,
To our choices, we must stick,
It's frustrating to hear that ticking sound,
Cuz, what's done is done, time can't turn around.
She perambulated to the elder, noticing that it was fairly tall; it was as high as her and a half. The design on it was fairly old, the cogs were rusting, and the crevices on it were dusting. It was very atypical. Everything in the mansion the Noah's lived in was well cared for by the AKUMA that upheld the estate, yet there was this abandoned clock…
Tick Tock, Tick Tock,
Time can seem like a rock,
Solid still, inert, nothing will penetrate,
When there's something special to anticipate.
Why? Why was her heart beating so quickly? It was just a clock. Creaking away…wasting away just as she felt her sanity was. But for some reason, it seemed to bring a strange sort of reminiscence to her. She reached her hand out to touch it, all sound disappearing; no thundering nor strike of lightning.
Tock Tick, Tock Tick,
It can be akin to a candle wick,
On which the flame consumes the wax,
Ablaze, but, impossible to get it back.
Absent words, make-believe dreams, life meanings and purposes…what were they all? What was she living? Was she living at all? Was she following her fate? Were all of the things she believed to be true…the truth? Was she being lied to? Was she betrayed? Why were her thoughts jumbled and tumbling inside of her brain? What was she trying to forget? Was she really trying to forget it?
Suddenly, a bright light shined into her eyes as she looked up at the clock's face.
Tick Tock, Tick Tock,
If only we could control the clock,
Special moments are worth repeating,
Yes, sometimes it seems oh so fleeting.
She placed her hand onto the elder.
Tock Tick, Tock Tick,
Change is automatic,
It's obvious that things don't stay the same,
That begs the question, is the clock to blame?
Fire.
Cinder.
Blood.
Tears.
A tall man, looming over her.
Screaming.
Exploding.
And a single song.
She pulled her hand away, electricity running through the very core of her spirit. Hands splayed out, she fell to the ground, hair covering her face as she faced away from the grandfather clock. She breathed heavily, gasping as she took in as much oxygen she could, sweat dripping down her face. What had that been? What were those pictures, those visions? What did she just do?
If you looked closely, though, at that grandfather clock, you could see a flickering silver glow within the clock fade as the thunder of the realm just outside of the Noah world rolled in.
Tick Tock, Tick Tock,
Does life revolve around the clock?
Or does the clock revolve around what we do?
You decide, because I've got work I must go to!
Allen finished tying her red bow around the neck of her shirt while Timcanpy yawned atop her pillow. She stretched, her muscles fairly relaxed from her fairly comfortable sleep the night before.
Her room was plain, but she didn't mind. There was a bed, a mirror, a tall dresser, mainly for the long dresses of a lady, and a desk with a lamp on it right by the single window in the room. It reminded her greatly of her own bedroom at the Main Black Order, with the exception of the black bed comforter and the strange things that were occasionally stored in there.
Her neck and back cracked lightly as she reached up high before bending backward. Righting herself, she looked into the mirror, taking into account her white, wavy shoulder-length hair, her body shape, and the weirdness of not having on a corset or vest of any kind created to hide her bosom.
Quite frankly, it made breathing a lot easier.
She blinked at herself owlishly, until she reached down, taking off her right glove. She brought the hand up to her face and moved it around in front of her. It was still foreign to her, having a crystaline hand, the corners of her fingers translucent. The only things moderately reminiscent of her previous deformation were the cross still etched into her hand, her innocence glowing with her heartbeat, and the blackened fingernails of the hand. Other than those two attributes, her hand was smooth and strangely warm rather than rough and nearly wood-like.
She wasn't quite sure how to feel about it, but she supposed it was better than before.
TING
Startled out of her daze, she glanced at the clock which showed her that breakfast was probably nearing its end. Rushing, she ran past her bed, grabbing Timcanpy from her pillow, before shuffling out the door.