Disclaimer: ::Sings:: La, la, la never give up---Ah! Oh yeah, I see; my few readers are watching. ::Ahem:: Gundam Wing is not technically mine … but considering the many liberties I'm going to take with Trowa Barton's character this scene, Sunrise might not even recognize him as their own. So, if there's a problem, I don't care. I really don't. I spent all my money on having "fun" (Wow, almost forgot the meaning of the word) this weekend, and I do need to save up money to get my tempermental dragon of a sister her Terra plushie for Christmas … Ah well, that's it for me and … yeah. Enjoy!
Le Rideau Est-il Fermé?
Act Un: Les Quatrièmes Chutes de Rideau
By: Elysia Erianthe
Once again, I found myself navigating the vacant hallways that seemed to have taken on a different air. 'How stifling,' I mused as the "air" bore down on me. Consequently, I managed to find my way into the garden again. "I suppose this place is as good as any to start looking for Wufei," I vented some of my frustration aloud. "Where have all of the servants gone? I could have at least inquired directions of them, but it appears that they have dissipated into thin air!"
"They're avoiding Quatre," a voice carried from the wind at my back before its owner came into step to my left. After receiving my quizzical glance, he elaborated. "He's an Empath. He feels pain for everyone and in the end makes them feel better," he sighed, letting down his impassive mask at long last. "As a result, people love him---love him for what he does for the common good and the personal sacrifices he makes, but the kind of love he wants, a certain love of self or 'romantic' love for lack of better words, is never reciprocated. When the servants see him in his current state, they feel guilty for taking so much from him that they, along with the rest of the population, can never return," Trowa stated matter-of-factly but without careless tones.
"Why did you want me to see that episode in the music room?" I questioned in attempt to disregard the chord his explanation struck in me. "I don't consider it honorable to observe someone else's emotional strife."
"It looked to me like you were already seeing it," he retorted haughtily until he caught a glimpse of my unabashed expression. "Is your sense of justice what makes you companionable to Wufei? I've only met one other woman that can call him by his first name without reprimand."
"No. I have a certain understanding of his ---"
"Good," he interrupted me, "because understanding is precisely what I want you to have for Quatre."
"Excuse me?" I couldn't restrain the agitation in my voice much to his pleasure, and I resorted to silently reciting a calming axiom of my youth. In a passage of seconds, I was walking alone; my object of aggravation was perched on the railing of another balcony stairway.
"Guest quarters are to the right. Wufei should be in there," he chimed and displayed a true smile, completely devoid of any malignancy.
At that point, I had lost every shred of understanding---allowance, compromise, whatever you'd like to call it---for this man. Into the wind to be blown far south, the same wind that insistently blew rose petals into my already tangled tresses. Only for this reason did I undertake the repercussions of my next action.
"Fils de pute!!!" I intoned; my voice somehow disembodied by the wind. I did not even gain the chance to preen my ruffled feathers or feel guilty for my unfettered temper as he answered in suit.
"Hmm, that seems to be one phrase I haven't forgotten, though I can't say I've ever been referred to as something that colorful before …," he mused with a contemplating palm raised to embrace his cheek. "Nice to see we share a heritage though," he smiled again, broader this time with blinding, white teeth bared. I bound off for the guest quarters, eager to compose myself or at least ignore the wary, drained feeling this particular conversation had dredged up from the sunken banks of my being. Consequently, I didn't "about face" or recede into the distance hastily enough, for I still caught a glimpse of the mock-patriotic salute and irking grin of my many-masked acquaintance.
'Funny,' I thought after five minutes of purposeful walking, my pace only slackened by my ill-prepared dress shoes, 'I thought it would be much closer than this.' Glancing over my shoulder regretfully, I steeled myself to see that imp boring a hole through me with those diamond drill eyes.
He could see straight through me.
But there's no reason to think about that now considering he's just doing acrobatics on the balcony railing … 'What?!?' I surmised that I was simply hallucinating from the heavy, water-laden air of a Cinq kingdom spring. "On the other hand, I never had that vivid of an imagination," I mumbled through the insectual hum and took the liberty of an elongated gaze at my tormentor, who was indeed doing acrobatics on the balcony. He had freed himself of his upper body garments to complete a backhand spring in the time lapse of a blink. There he remained for a moment, intrinsic ability revealed in his all too natural stance on the precariously narrow railing. "Nice," I mouthed, aware of the fact that Coralie wasn't at my side to voice my opinions for me. The clown, for he truly seemed to be some sort of jester from the way he enigmatically changed figurative masks, continued to count something on the digits of one hand, engrossed once again.
"Probably counting out my negative traits," I muttered through clenched jaws.
After much fretting, scowling, and the like, I passed under the latticework archway into the guest apartments and surrounding garden. The garden gave the impression of serenity without the munificent, almost flamboyant perfection of the previous one. No, this was definitely a true Garden of Eden, quaint and productive, and a raised brick paver nearly befell me.
Umph.
Surprisingly enough, Wufei still had not made his appearance, but knowing him, he'd probably be practicing until he passed out. Most likely actually, considering the fact that it wouldn't be the first time I found him in that condition if indeed he had over-exhausted himself. Generally speaking, training grounds are almost always located in the outlying areas of a complex, much the same way people neglect to realize that a trim figure does not develop on its own. Having reached my destination through my musing, I attempted to open the door to the dojo only to find it locked, my hand twisting around the doorknob that was intended to turn itself.
***
Author's notes (Hey! Put that gun down, Heero!): Well, I have just been way too busy to do much of anything on this story as of late. Stupid Honors classes … anyway, IF I have time to in the near future, I may post some more scenes on FF.net and possibly on Aishiteru. Why? Because I have so much written in advance from that last unproductive summer! But as for right this minute … I'm slacking off on studying for a midterm exam, physics test ::curses loudly::, math quiz and homework, extra credit poster, history reading assignment … such is the horrid life of a wannabe scholar! ::Sigh:: And all of that on top of trying to find the true meaning behind the "Stopped Clock" mystery. However, for those of you who care, fils de pute roughly means "son of a---CRANKY ELLIE!" No, I think everyone can figure that out on her own without having to upgrade the rating more … well, ja!
~Ellie