To all the Broken Deeds

"Hey, Frita! Are you excited? Come onnnnnn right in! Hyaaaauh!"

"That's quite a way of receiving guests."

"Well... like..." Lyla whimpers somewhat—just somewhat. "I meaaaann... Friiitaaaaaa! I know who you aaaare! You're like super spunky and chill and stuff! So why can't I tryyyyy?"

There is a snort. "Psh. Lyla, be happy about who you are, alright? You're stuck in that body, through thick and thin and all kinds of messed-up things, so you gotta learn to embrace your stupidity."

"Ha-haaaaaaah! I guess I will!"

Frita merely shakes her head again, a bemused smile upon her lips. "You do that, Lyla. But—uhh..." She goes shifting about in the big Frita handbag she brought with her. It's got, like, frills and stuff, so it's pretty cool. "Ah." Out comes a brown little square. "Just—um—chocolate. For you. For... thanking and stuff." Her eyes narrow. "Don't question it."

"Oh, man! I am not gonna!" Her face lights up where it still can—exhaustion crashing down upon her. They all see it. Such a sight on the poor, stupid, innocent little thing brings a touch of sorrow to Frita's grin. "Thank you very much, Frita! I trust that your eyes soon stop squinting because they are rather lovely~"

Another snort accompanies the end of Lyla's words. "Okay then, Lyla. You're welcome." With a nod, she approaches the plaza and enters its streamer-infested area. Just after Frita's head turns, Lyla pops the whole chocolate square into her mouth—and her eyes tear up a little. "Ouwwhhh mai gawshhh... she can baayke... reeaaaall sweellll... oouuwhhhhh... ouwhh gawsh, ouwwhh gawsh, gawsh, gawsh..." Shaking her head slowly, swallowing.

Jay comes next—very hesitant in way, head spouting left and right, eyes kinda wide. He doesn't say much as he comes in, only offers a few trivial words, then upon the little party.

By this time, most everyone has come, so Lyla could probably leave her position right now—but like... from here it's easy to see the strobe light in the trees, just chilling, Nibbles and Camofrog awkwardly sitting by it. Oh right—didn't he call her his girlfriend when they first met?

Dang. That was so long ago. Introductions... everything. What a thought. A small, thoughtful smile fits into Lyla's face. She misses... seeing him often. She hasn't been around the frog for awhile now, and it seems like whenever she tries to get close Nibbles is right there too, the turquoise pipsqueak very unrelenting and very scary.

After Jay a certain white dog, guitar slung over his shoulder—now with roses in his hand, follows in. Huh. Immediately from the crowd ahead approaches Fauna, cheeks pink, arms wide. And they hug. Right there. Right in front of Lyla. And she thinks Keke kisses her forehead too while he's at it—riiiiiight in front of Lyla. She feels like one of those awful people who crash parties, except with the guilt and without the free cake. But eventually they move on, and Lyla can breathe again.

She's about to go when she catches the telltale crunch of footsteps on flower blossoms approaching. Huh, someone else. She turns, braces herself. It's not quite who she's expecting: rather tall, curly brown hair, freckles, those reading glasses tied about his neck and nowhere near his face. Not to mention... oh man, he dressed fancy tonight. Tuxedo and everything. Hoo! Lookit that boy! What was his name! Lyla has no idea!

"Oh, no, don't tell me you don't remember me?" That smooth voice, that sarcastic grin.

Makes her feel bad. Stupid boy. "Aaauuummm! I'm sorry! No, I don't remember you! Well! Wait, no... you're Train Boy, but that's all I remember. TB... that's not your name, is it?"

"No."

"Good. I was worried for a moment." What, she was!

Clearing his throat, the nicely-tanned boy examines the crowd ahead. "Bruce," very gently, "it's Bruce. Don't forget it, alrighty? Freya's been through enough already; she doesn't need you asking my name, too." With a smirk and a casual brush of a curl, he enters as well, leaving his name and Freya's behind.

Lyla blinks. "Well okay then. He is just a vase full of flowers." But of course. "That's everyone, right? Bruce showing up out of nowhere, okay. The outta-towners are pretty much here I think... so yeah! YES! OFF DUTY!"

Keke hadn't just asked Digby—who eventually obliged—on coming. He'd brought one of his weirdo friends, this cat, who has like... blue fur and big red eyes. Rover, they called him. Said he was a charm. And apparently somebody told Bruce, because Lyla obviously didn't. She'd completely forgotten about the guy... again. Man, poor Bruce. Tough break. Though does it really matter if Lyla remembers him or not?

She remembers that Jaxk alright. She's forgotten the guy before... but then there was what Isabelle said—something foreboding, she can't quite put her finger on it—and now he's probably not going away from memory anytime soon. She's not really sure how she managed with all the villagers—perhaps because she sees them constantly and she's pretty much stuck with them for the rest of however long?

Well... now what? Well, yeah, party. But like, who first? Somebody brought a stereo from their house over—probably Freya—so there's electronic dance music jumping off the cobblestone floor, there's people dancing, there's chitchat and Deli stealing the majority of the cupcakes already. Oh. Maybe she should get some before there's none left.

Over to the right-bottom corner lies the refreshments, with its nice white tablecloth and the hearts all over it. Deli, brown face trickling with a stream of crumbs, doffs his head some when he sees the girl coming. He opens his mouth, opts against it, and continues chewing.

"Hey, Deli!" He can't really say much right now with his vanilla cupcakes stuffed in his face, but you know. "How're you doing?" She leans closer, murmurs, "Did Lucha tell you?"

Swallow. Cough, cough. Another try then. "Hwey!" He swallows once more. Ah, that does it. "Yeah, he told me a few days ago. Broke down and started bawling all over it."

Lyla nods, understanding. "I kinda thought he was gonna tell someone, You, most likely."

"You know, you're currently in possession of, like, six or some pairs of his skinny jeans, and it's really putting him on edge. Only he's too shy to ask, so now I have to for him. Can we do something about this sometime?"

"Oh!" Her face reddens. "Sorry... I didn't even realize. Haaah..!" She looks down to find herself—not in a pair. Ah. She's in her cotton dress again, right. After Fauna helped her with it... she means... she loves this thing. It's been through four years of living on the trains. In the end, it was her last pair of clothing she still owned. It was... pretty crazy. Haha... she can't help it. "But I—oh my gosh, I'm sorry. I'll fix that. I promise. Just make sure to remind me too, heh." She smiles a little, looking away.

There is a small smile mirrored unto the monkey after her response. "Hey, don't worry about it too much. It's fine. I just... he's my best friend. He's a big derp. He needs help sometimes... and we all make mistakes! No harm in thaaat! Eheh..."

They laugh quietly, just smiling at the ground together. Then Lyla mutters, "Where is Lucha right now?"

"Uh?" Deli blinks, amethyst orbs narrowed. "I'm... not completely sure. Oops! Aaahahaa... I'll have to go find him then. Oh, the poor little dweeb..." Smirking, head shaking, tittering, he waves back to the girl, grabs another cupcake, and leaves in search of the strawberry red birdie.

He leaves Lyla, softly smiling, softly wondering, behind. And as he does there is a gentle tune that plays from the stereo, one that moves Lyla's feet into a spin if but for a moment. She's not very good at dancing, so it's probably for the best that she doesn't go on much more. Some of the others from the sides go into the midst of the plaza at the soft murmur of music... others back away.

There is a certain green character—short, streaked in brown and dark colors, eyes somewhat dazed from all the dancing—who backs away too. Retreating some behind the massive plazas tree. Lyla's heart jumps—man! She hasn't seen the guy since, like, he told her she couldn't come over that time... and there was—there was something else... something in the background... ah... crying. Right.

Hesitant, her feet lead her over to her friend. She tries to raise her voice some—still comes off as quiet. "Um. Hey. Hey, Camofrog..."

It's so weird having to lean down again. Most of her friends are so much taller than her... he just goes past her chest...

Slowly her friend looks up toward her, gaze distant. "Oh? Lyla, is that you? Man... it's been awhile, hasn't it? Sorry about that..." Eyes so glassy... I-It worries her a little. She doesn't want Camofrog to look faraway, she wants him to see the freaking V-Day she worked so hecking hard on to make happen!

And that smile. Oh gosh. It's fake, man. That is a fake smile. Glassy—and therefore cold—and therefore unfeeling, like turning over a stone. Oh come on, Camo. "Hey, uh... how've you been? I guess going through a lot, huh? Is that why you weren't able to..?"

"Well... if there's anything you should know about me," he murmurs, somewhat regretful, somewhat longing, gaze glassy and fake and far, far away, "it's that I'm busier than I wish. Much. There's a piece of my life that... I guess controls me. Shame, uh?" He's so detached... ulh... Lyla's gotta do something. Shatter the glass? How, though? Oh gosh. Maybe it's not supposed to be shattered... maybe it's supposed to be that strong...

Well too bad. So now what.

"Camofrog, uhhh... you look sad."

Okay, the blunt path it is.

There is a bit of a stirring, although not much. "No, no... I'm alright."

"Well." Cough. "Your smile looks very sad. And fake, too. Did you know that?" Wait he probably did—oh! Oh! That was a flicker of anger across his rather unmarked face if she's ever seen one! Ohhh!

Deep breath. "Yes... Lyla." Deep, and slow... and fake. Ulh. That word is getting on her nerves.

"Why then? Why does your smile have to be fake? Can't it be a real smile? You should smile real. I think I've seen your real smile, and did you know what my mom always told me when I asked her why all the other girls wore makeup? She told me that real is natural, and natural puts the heart out open. Which is a good thing." Is that what her mom said? Oh, something like that. Hm. She hasn't talked to her family in a long time... not that she wants to. She simply hasn't.

Do they think she's... gone? Gone... like Marsh? Although maybe living in a home like this is supposed to mean gone, far gone. Gone like the feelings on Camofrog's rather unmarked face. Gone like the anger he so easily stirred and evened out and defeated. Gone like the flavor of... of anything left in him. Her goodness!

For a moment, the frog looks up at his friend. His gaze is blank, and open, and rotting and steaming with hate. Oof. She touches her heart where it thumps madly. "I rather hate stupidity. You don't have the common sense to leave this 'fake smile' be, do you? No. Not really...

"There's a reason people say 'I'm good, how are you,' you know. They don't want you to get in their faces."

Distant and aloof all over again. She hasn't... touched it, has she? Well maybe... maybe she can... oh...

With another apology, and an apologetic glance, the frog doffs his head and takes the hand of his returning girlfriend. And they walk away.

Lyla slowly blinks, somewhat numb. Her hands shake slightly. And she's so tired... but... but it's dark... and if there's anything she knows, she can't sleep when it's dark... m-maybe she should sleep all day, but... but then... what about her friends..? She won't see them anymore... s-so maybe she can... like... walk through all this. Y-Yeah. M-Maybe. That sounds like a good idea...

A hand touches her shoulder.

"Geeeh!" No—no wait. Not a hand. No, not at all. It's a paw. A squishy paw, squishy paw pads. The fur is short and fine but nice still to the touch. With a flourish, the paw spins Lyla round and into the face of that cat. Rover, that's his name. She tries to smile over her initial shock.

The cat waves his other paw, removing the first from her shoulder, as if to suggest harmlessness. "Well, hey there." His voice resembles Keke's—his dear dog friend—with intensity and level, only his is deeper, almost reaching a completely different depth of soulful tone. "How very nice to meet you. You're Lyla, right? My friends have told me all kinds of things.

With a shaky nod from the girl, he goes on. "I live on the tracks too, although I must say that Bruce is not the kinda guy I plan on being... ullh." Furious head shake. "You know, Lyla... uh, you're the newbie, right? You never knew about this place until like a month ago or something... yeah, that." A paw flits through the air. "You should be careful around here. There's many different sides to Wherford, and... well.

A mischievous, rather catlike smile extends along his lips. "Some of them are much more dangerous than others. I'm happy to see your soul hasn't been well... you know." Another paw dab in the air. "Like the others. Crushed, broken, whatever. Although I didn't expect the change of heart that came in... mmmmmh. Very thoughtful, very thoughtful."

Lyla asks the first thing that comes to mind:

"Are you a singer too?"

Rover, eyes narrowed somewhat, smirks at whatever it is he sees. "Sometimes. Depends on my mood." His soulful voice hums to these words, telling their own story. "Yes... oh, sometimes indeed. I may sing tonight. Probability, naw. Though I don't think Keke's really planning on singing either... Ahhh..." He yawns softly. "I'm sleepy..."

Lyla eyes him warily. "Hey, me too."

That catches his attention—his blue tail flicks in the air and he turns back. "Mmmh? Tired? Although... I suspect that preparing for the party can be rather tiring..." His eyes flicker upon her, up her nose, down her cheeks—they land in the bags of her eyes. He mouths a wince. "Why yes. I suppose preparations themselves can be very tiring... uh?"

He's lost her a little, but she nods slowly, carefully. Rover titters in sympathy. "I suppose to the outside eye you've kept yourself safe rather well... but... ah. Poor thing.

There is a sad smile, then. "This is a sad place. I'm surprised you didn't leave after you first came. You might be lucky and manage while you're not... truly comprehending it all, not yet. Although...

"Bruce did bring you here..." A slice of shadow falls upon his face when he tips it just the right way. "Ah, the screwhead, why was he looking for someone? Oh... but I don't know." A slow shake of the head. "Tis a shame, what a shame."

He pauses, listening to the music, ears twitching.

"Well! It was swell to talk to you. I wish you great luck in sleep tonight, poor thing, and I trust you at the very least enjoy yourself tonight. If you ever need me, you can always find me on the trains... so I beg you to not be shy." A bob of the head, and a bob of his tail, and he leads off into the crowd again.

For a time she stands there... and she doesn't know what to think. Keke is singing, very softly, as this next tune comes on—they call it 'Wandering,' or as he goes, "Wander, O Wander, O Wander..." and then splits off into his chorus. Just over and over again...

It's a pretty little thing... and it makes her sway, somewhat, in place... just on her own. It's a cold night... and she wishes it wasn't, but it is... but then again, she is very thankful for the flower blossoms and the pink, so it's okay that the weather matches with February.

Gently, swaying, she closes her eyes just a little, dancing a bit into the music. It's kind of embarrassing, in a sort of cute way. Just a little bit...

"Hmmm. Lyla, what is it you're doing now?"

"Buhh?!" Wait, she knows that voice... slowly her reluctant eyes open and—oh gosh. It's the guy. You know... the black curly hair, the name she can't pronounce... he's... back.

Isabelle said some scary things about him. But... Jaxk looks like... a nice person... well, sort of. Not the kinda guy she'd wanna say no to... for whatever he's asking... Although the question he asked isn't a yes-or-no one. Psh. "Um... I'm just dancing I guess. Heh, alone..."

Jaxk's dark, dark orbs shimmer in mirth. "I suppose we should change that, now shouldn't we? I doubt you need to be dancing all by yourself now. Heheh... you poor thing." Face pale and angular, there is a small smile upon it... one of his dark and strange smiles. "You should dance with me."

"Ah! Um..! O-Okay..!" She pinks.

Another long, luscious Jaxk laugh, and his hands take hers, and he leads her into a small motion she doesn't really know but figures out easily enough. There is a small spin about her, and a step forwards, and three back, and another spin... around, and around...

His face is very close to hers. He asks, "Would you like to hear a secret?"

"U-Um... if you're gonna tell me..." Lyla is struggling to get her bearings right now, ohhh her goodness. "Then sure..."

"Okay." Very close, very close. Whispering. Maybe he doesn't know the definition of personal space. M-M-Maybe. "Lyla, I told you when we first met that you were going to do something rather... important. And you know what that is?" Wide-eyed and lightheaded, she shakes her head. "Ahaha... that's what's so fun about you... you forget. And forget again, ah. Well... here's the secret.

He takes her face in his hands and pulls his lips very close to her ear. Very quiet, very quiet. "You're going to manage something that nobody else in Wherford has ever done, very soon. Be excited, oh... be excited..." His dark and luscious tone pulls back, and she slowly lifts her head. Everything pounds.

And they dance again, wordlessly, for a little longer. His hands are long and thin and a little cold, and they hold on rather tightly...
for some strange reason the thought of shackles enters Lyla's mind...

That strange mirth in his black, inky eyes watches her carefully, watches her slow and tired movements and watches the shadows in her face. There is a smile in this care, and a gentle hand releases hers to brush away a stray bang in her face.

"Enjoy your time in Wherford, Lyla."

Another smile, another turn, and by the time she's back around that strange, strange boy is gone.

She stands there for a time, somewhat in a daze, cheeks very pink, heart very fast. Rubbing at her fingers, burning with chill where he touched them...

Sometime later Lucha returns, red in the face once more, accompanied by a certain monkey. As Lyla's heart stills itself, waiting, wondering, she dances with him, only Lucha's a very awkward sort of bounce in place kinda dancer, so she struggles not to laugh practically the entire time. It's a nice change of things.

Deli doesn't even dance. He just watches. And comments.

And as they dance, the same song, Wander, O Wander, O Wander, plays on again.

In the morning dyed
Colors from sunshine
I like to sit and wa-atch the world

Lives are passing by
From the ground to sky
And I know that, the people are thriving
And we'll be alright...