I got stuck on my geometry test today. I put 'Waffle' in one of the
blanks.
~~~~~
Grayfall drew the string closed on his satchel, the only bag he had to contain his few possessions: some borrowed clothes, Legato's journal, and a silver cross necklace his mother had owned. Usually, he wore the chain around his neck, the pendant under his shirt, but he felt too distant to even fasten it that day. He and Oriole were leaving Stormie, Vash, and Knives at long last. Couldn't put it off any longer what with their conflicting ideas and fear of Naoshi's presence looming in the distance.
He would miss Vash and Stormie. Not really Knives. The man was obstinate and would not even stand to defend his family after they'd been severely hurt. No, Grayfall didn't mind leaving him in the least.
"Are you ready yet?" Oriole demanded, having been putting her things together in the same room. Her crippled hand restricted her some as she tried to fold her clothes, fingers refusing to cooperate, and a few times she had looked ready to cry in frustration. Simple tasks were so difficult for her, and she hated Grayfall seeing her struggle through them, but he was wise and kept his mouth shut, so she had managed somehow. Now, she had given up and thrown everything into her bag, deciding she no longer cared if it wrinkled or not.
Grayfall straightened his stooped position over the bed, the bag thrown over his shoulder, and smiled. "Yeah. We can go now."
They planned on walking to the nearest town and boarding a sand steamer to talk them several iles away, where Oriole had a good friend who would house them for a minimal fee. Grayfall supposed he would be spending a good part of his life with the half-plant half-empath. He'd missed out on his teenage years, the time where people learn how to survive in the real world, and was unsure of himself and where to go and what to do. Besides, as long as they were together, they could protect each other from Naoshi. He would be the one to set the alarm, and she would be the one to find an escape to safety. It worked out perfectly. So why did he feel like this was a bad decision?
Stormie, dressed casually in a pair of sweat pants and a pale pink, short- sleeved shirt, was leisurely stretched out in a hammock set up on the porch. Her eyes had been closed, as if she was napping, but they flew open when she heard them coming. "Hey, wait," she called out timidly, struggling to roll out of the suspended netting. The sand shifted tediously beneath her bare feet as she hobbled over, hesitantly embracing Oriole, who remained stock still. Stormie had been shying away from physical touch ever since the attack, and just gleaning her memories of it made Oriole sick. That's what she hated about her gift. She always was burdened with the pain of others.
"Knives will take care of you, Storm," Oriole said reassuringly, her low voice one of comfort. "Don't worry."
"Why does everyone think it's up to Knives to keep me safe?" she sighed wistfully, tucking a platinum blonde strand of hair behind her ear. The woman was still in the early stages of recovery, a dark red scrape on her cheek and a bruise blotching her left eye, forcing it to close slightly. She still struggled with walking, and was very stiff, but her attitude was what bothered everyone the most. For once in her life, Stormie was too upset to talk, to laugh, to even smile... "Knives doesn't look at me as some responsibility, you know. He barely can stand me."
Oriole cocked her head to the side, smirking. "That's not what his emotions convey. He gives off an aura of a fierce desire to protect you."
Grayfall didn't quite agree, but kept his mouth shut.
"Have you...said goodbye to Vash?" Stormie asked, her hands on her hips, brow furrowed in a bit of worry. She certainly looked liked she didn't want them to leave.
"Yes. This morning."
"Well...goodbye. Be sure to come back and visit...ok?"
They said their final farewells and parted, both with everything they owned on their backs. Oriole, her head bowed, stared at her feet as she walked, one foot before the other, left right, left right, a rhythmic, steady pace. Her shoes were polished black boots with thick tread, slightly scuffed from use. Beside her, she could catch a glimpse of Grayfall looking just as forlorn as she felt, his face shadowed by doubt and confusion.
"This place I've prepared is safe," she promised. "And the twins will take good care of Stormie."
"We need to fight," muttered Grayfall. "He should be slain, not ignored."
"Grayfall, I've been burned by the fire. I won't play with it again."
And the houses behind them grew smaller and smaller while town loomed in the distance.
~~~~~
Billy had been given permission by her mother to head into town, but not even that could quench her thirst for freedom. None of her friends were around, and her dad was wrapped up in work, so she was virtually alone. Her mood was only worsened by the prospect of how her family life might be changing, a dark cloud hanging in the horizon.
Lately, her mother and father had been bickering, and badly at that.
Billy found herself drawn to a small café, where she was informed there was not a free table and asked if she might possibly consider sharing? Ok, she consented, but not with a couple on a date, a family out to dinner, who anyone who looked particularly talkative. They ended up sitting her next to a most strange and intriguing man, his hair a pure white and eyes of different colors. He didn't pay any attention to her though, just continued to read the paper.
She'd been observing the plants her mother was hanging around with all week. Vash was outstandingly friendly and Knives was just the opposite. She liked Knives better. Plus, she had always trusted her mom, but she'd also sensed an...unhappiness? There was no doubt that her dad loved her mom, but was the opposite true? And what with this Vash, boyfriend from the past, thrown into the mix, things were getting weird.
She could've sworn she'd seen the two of them flirting!
Looks like divorce is on the way...
No, no, no, no! She would not let her mind go there! That was too absurd!
"Excuse me," said the man sitting across the table from her, his voice deep and strangely accented. "Would you happen to have the time?"
"No," she said dryly, not caring that the wrist that she wore her watch on was in plain sight and that she wasn't even attempting to look at it.
He raised an eyebrow at her in just a tad bit of amusement. The corner of his mouth quirked up. "What's your name, girl?"
"None of your business."
"How old are you?"
"Why would you care?"
He tucked his fist beneath his chin, looking vaguely annoyed now, the spark of laughter gone from his eyes. Nothing was said for a while, and he nonchalantly sipped his water, eyes trained on her the whole time. And then she wilted under his gaze.
"My name is Billy. I'm seventeen. You?"
"You can call me..." He paused uncertainly. "Naoshi."
She studied him carefully, and from her judgment, he couldn't be out of his twenties. Good looking guy too. But that name...why was it so familiar? Naoshi, Naoshi, Naoshi...something about it. Vash had said it a few times, but she could not figure out for the life of her what it had been in relation too. It's not like she paid attention to anything the stupid plant said anyhow. "How old are you?"
"I'm as old as you want me to be," he offered, like it was some sort of invitation.
Billy glared at him with righteous indignation, put into a bad mood by all the games they were playing. She was sick of flirting. Sick of just seeing people pretending the opposite of what they were thinking. "Then you be my age," she demanded, and he grinned broadly.
~~~~~
Billy didn't come home that night. Meryl sat up all night in the living room, staring out the window and into the darkness. She called Vincent, and he began to look too. Vash was equally worried and volunteered to scan the town all night.
Knives hoped the development would lead to the leaving of their unwelcome visitors.
~~~~~
"This place is nice," commented Billy, glancing around her new friend's home appreciatively. "Wow...you're used to the finer things in life, no?"
"Yes," he laughed, gesturing for her to follow him to the next room. "See this?" he asked, motioning to the small, clear pool in the center of the room. It was flanked by sleek furniture and a small snack bar, along with potted plants. "Do you like to swim?"
"Yes! Of course!" she exclaimed in surprise, eyes wide at the very idea of having a pool in one's house. "But water is so precious...I mean..."
"Yeah, I know. Connections." He winked. "Ok, next room. I converted it into a green house."
"How?" she inquired in awe, feeling the warmth soak into her skin as soon as she stepped into the makeshift garden. Colorful flowers and green, leafy plants made the room lush and inviting, exotic and mystifying. "How did you make them grow like this? Only a plant would be capable of something this great!"
"My...father was a plant," he volunteered the information with apprehension, his facial features fickle as he ran his thumb over a blood red petal of a rose, the flower like silk beneath his callused skin.
Having been burying her face into a sweet-smelling lilac bush, Billy glanced over at him in surprise, the purple and white swirling into a smooth pattern on the petals and brushing lightly over her pale cheek. For a few moments, her eyes were wide in shock, and then she recovered, smiling at him lightly. Within seconds, she had turned back to indulging in the sweet fragrance of the lilacs.
~~~~~
Knives stood at the window in Stormie's bedroom, one arm poised to delicately hold back the lacy curtain, and the other resting gently on the window sill. He breathed in the night air deeply, drinking it in, and then turned to look over his shoulder at the woman who was sitting in the corner at the foot of her bed, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. She was shivering, most likely recalling some of the moments she had spent with Naoshi. He knew he could not protect her from her own mind, so he helplessly watched. It was all he could do.
Stormie was breathing raggedly, clutching tightly to the edges of her blanket and wishing she could ward off the ghost touches that lingered on her body from where his hands had been. She wished that every time she closed her eyes she didn't see his face, but most of all, with her fingers brushing over her lips in foreboding, she wished he had not kissed her, roughly and angrily. That'd been after he had carved various patterns into her flesh with his dagger. She'd passed out about thirty seconds after the kiss began, and had awaken alone in the desert for a brief moment before falling unconscious again.
Knives was sitting beside her now. When had he walked over? She didn't care. She leaned onto his shoulder and felt him lay a large hand to her head, petting it tenderly like he would a child. Then, his fingers dropped down to tangle gently in her blonde hair, playing with it absent-mindedly. There was something she really needed to tell him...
"It's going to get cold tonight, Stormie," he commented softly, the conversation so dead that he had to turn to the weather for direction.
She looked up at him, seeing that he was looking back, his features muted and simple in the darkness, eyes a deeper blue. Like a lake at night. Suddenly, it all blurred as tears sprang to her eyes.
"What's wrong now?" he said, concern touching his gruff voice. He hesitantly lifted a hand, as if he intended to brush away the salty droplets, but discomfort set in and he dropped his arm. "Stormie, don't let Naoshi get to you!"
She shook her head without so much as a sound, her lower lip trembling in a silent whimper. He didn't know how much it had hurt. He didn't realize how embarrassing it had been to be forced to kiss Naoshi. Then, she put her head back into his shoulder and said shakily, "It's ok, Knives. I'm fine. You're - you're right... Goodnight." And still, she had yet to tell him.
Knives dropped his head onto his chest and let himself drift off to sleep, hoping Stormie would do the same.
But she didn't. She just closed her eyes sadly and adjusted her head that she might whisper into his ear, "I'm leaving next week, Knives. If you won't fight this, how can you expect me too? It's making things worse...you ignoring everything that happened and telling me to get over it. I'm trying. But...I think I'd be better by myself...if - if only for a little while..."
And still, he had not heard.
~~~~~
The group is splitting up!! Oh no!! Well, next chapter will be happier - I don't want too much angst... Review.
~~~~~
Grayfall drew the string closed on his satchel, the only bag he had to contain his few possessions: some borrowed clothes, Legato's journal, and a silver cross necklace his mother had owned. Usually, he wore the chain around his neck, the pendant under his shirt, but he felt too distant to even fasten it that day. He and Oriole were leaving Stormie, Vash, and Knives at long last. Couldn't put it off any longer what with their conflicting ideas and fear of Naoshi's presence looming in the distance.
He would miss Vash and Stormie. Not really Knives. The man was obstinate and would not even stand to defend his family after they'd been severely hurt. No, Grayfall didn't mind leaving him in the least.
"Are you ready yet?" Oriole demanded, having been putting her things together in the same room. Her crippled hand restricted her some as she tried to fold her clothes, fingers refusing to cooperate, and a few times she had looked ready to cry in frustration. Simple tasks were so difficult for her, and she hated Grayfall seeing her struggle through them, but he was wise and kept his mouth shut, so she had managed somehow. Now, she had given up and thrown everything into her bag, deciding she no longer cared if it wrinkled or not.
Grayfall straightened his stooped position over the bed, the bag thrown over his shoulder, and smiled. "Yeah. We can go now."
They planned on walking to the nearest town and boarding a sand steamer to talk them several iles away, where Oriole had a good friend who would house them for a minimal fee. Grayfall supposed he would be spending a good part of his life with the half-plant half-empath. He'd missed out on his teenage years, the time where people learn how to survive in the real world, and was unsure of himself and where to go and what to do. Besides, as long as they were together, they could protect each other from Naoshi. He would be the one to set the alarm, and she would be the one to find an escape to safety. It worked out perfectly. So why did he feel like this was a bad decision?
Stormie, dressed casually in a pair of sweat pants and a pale pink, short- sleeved shirt, was leisurely stretched out in a hammock set up on the porch. Her eyes had been closed, as if she was napping, but they flew open when she heard them coming. "Hey, wait," she called out timidly, struggling to roll out of the suspended netting. The sand shifted tediously beneath her bare feet as she hobbled over, hesitantly embracing Oriole, who remained stock still. Stormie had been shying away from physical touch ever since the attack, and just gleaning her memories of it made Oriole sick. That's what she hated about her gift. She always was burdened with the pain of others.
"Knives will take care of you, Storm," Oriole said reassuringly, her low voice one of comfort. "Don't worry."
"Why does everyone think it's up to Knives to keep me safe?" she sighed wistfully, tucking a platinum blonde strand of hair behind her ear. The woman was still in the early stages of recovery, a dark red scrape on her cheek and a bruise blotching her left eye, forcing it to close slightly. She still struggled with walking, and was very stiff, but her attitude was what bothered everyone the most. For once in her life, Stormie was too upset to talk, to laugh, to even smile... "Knives doesn't look at me as some responsibility, you know. He barely can stand me."
Oriole cocked her head to the side, smirking. "That's not what his emotions convey. He gives off an aura of a fierce desire to protect you."
Grayfall didn't quite agree, but kept his mouth shut.
"Have you...said goodbye to Vash?" Stormie asked, her hands on her hips, brow furrowed in a bit of worry. She certainly looked liked she didn't want them to leave.
"Yes. This morning."
"Well...goodbye. Be sure to come back and visit...ok?"
They said their final farewells and parted, both with everything they owned on their backs. Oriole, her head bowed, stared at her feet as she walked, one foot before the other, left right, left right, a rhythmic, steady pace. Her shoes were polished black boots with thick tread, slightly scuffed from use. Beside her, she could catch a glimpse of Grayfall looking just as forlorn as she felt, his face shadowed by doubt and confusion.
"This place I've prepared is safe," she promised. "And the twins will take good care of Stormie."
"We need to fight," muttered Grayfall. "He should be slain, not ignored."
"Grayfall, I've been burned by the fire. I won't play with it again."
And the houses behind them grew smaller and smaller while town loomed in the distance.
~~~~~
Billy had been given permission by her mother to head into town, but not even that could quench her thirst for freedom. None of her friends were around, and her dad was wrapped up in work, so she was virtually alone. Her mood was only worsened by the prospect of how her family life might be changing, a dark cloud hanging in the horizon.
Lately, her mother and father had been bickering, and badly at that.
Billy found herself drawn to a small café, where she was informed there was not a free table and asked if she might possibly consider sharing? Ok, she consented, but not with a couple on a date, a family out to dinner, who anyone who looked particularly talkative. They ended up sitting her next to a most strange and intriguing man, his hair a pure white and eyes of different colors. He didn't pay any attention to her though, just continued to read the paper.
She'd been observing the plants her mother was hanging around with all week. Vash was outstandingly friendly and Knives was just the opposite. She liked Knives better. Plus, she had always trusted her mom, but she'd also sensed an...unhappiness? There was no doubt that her dad loved her mom, but was the opposite true? And what with this Vash, boyfriend from the past, thrown into the mix, things were getting weird.
She could've sworn she'd seen the two of them flirting!
Looks like divorce is on the way...
No, no, no, no! She would not let her mind go there! That was too absurd!
"Excuse me," said the man sitting across the table from her, his voice deep and strangely accented. "Would you happen to have the time?"
"No," she said dryly, not caring that the wrist that she wore her watch on was in plain sight and that she wasn't even attempting to look at it.
He raised an eyebrow at her in just a tad bit of amusement. The corner of his mouth quirked up. "What's your name, girl?"
"None of your business."
"How old are you?"
"Why would you care?"
He tucked his fist beneath his chin, looking vaguely annoyed now, the spark of laughter gone from his eyes. Nothing was said for a while, and he nonchalantly sipped his water, eyes trained on her the whole time. And then she wilted under his gaze.
"My name is Billy. I'm seventeen. You?"
"You can call me..." He paused uncertainly. "Naoshi."
She studied him carefully, and from her judgment, he couldn't be out of his twenties. Good looking guy too. But that name...why was it so familiar? Naoshi, Naoshi, Naoshi...something about it. Vash had said it a few times, but she could not figure out for the life of her what it had been in relation too. It's not like she paid attention to anything the stupid plant said anyhow. "How old are you?"
"I'm as old as you want me to be," he offered, like it was some sort of invitation.
Billy glared at him with righteous indignation, put into a bad mood by all the games they were playing. She was sick of flirting. Sick of just seeing people pretending the opposite of what they were thinking. "Then you be my age," she demanded, and he grinned broadly.
~~~~~
Billy didn't come home that night. Meryl sat up all night in the living room, staring out the window and into the darkness. She called Vincent, and he began to look too. Vash was equally worried and volunteered to scan the town all night.
Knives hoped the development would lead to the leaving of their unwelcome visitors.
~~~~~
"This place is nice," commented Billy, glancing around her new friend's home appreciatively. "Wow...you're used to the finer things in life, no?"
"Yes," he laughed, gesturing for her to follow him to the next room. "See this?" he asked, motioning to the small, clear pool in the center of the room. It was flanked by sleek furniture and a small snack bar, along with potted plants. "Do you like to swim?"
"Yes! Of course!" she exclaimed in surprise, eyes wide at the very idea of having a pool in one's house. "But water is so precious...I mean..."
"Yeah, I know. Connections." He winked. "Ok, next room. I converted it into a green house."
"How?" she inquired in awe, feeling the warmth soak into her skin as soon as she stepped into the makeshift garden. Colorful flowers and green, leafy plants made the room lush and inviting, exotic and mystifying. "How did you make them grow like this? Only a plant would be capable of something this great!"
"My...father was a plant," he volunteered the information with apprehension, his facial features fickle as he ran his thumb over a blood red petal of a rose, the flower like silk beneath his callused skin.
Having been burying her face into a sweet-smelling lilac bush, Billy glanced over at him in surprise, the purple and white swirling into a smooth pattern on the petals and brushing lightly over her pale cheek. For a few moments, her eyes were wide in shock, and then she recovered, smiling at him lightly. Within seconds, she had turned back to indulging in the sweet fragrance of the lilacs.
~~~~~
Knives stood at the window in Stormie's bedroom, one arm poised to delicately hold back the lacy curtain, and the other resting gently on the window sill. He breathed in the night air deeply, drinking it in, and then turned to look over his shoulder at the woman who was sitting in the corner at the foot of her bed, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. She was shivering, most likely recalling some of the moments she had spent with Naoshi. He knew he could not protect her from her own mind, so he helplessly watched. It was all he could do.
Stormie was breathing raggedly, clutching tightly to the edges of her blanket and wishing she could ward off the ghost touches that lingered on her body from where his hands had been. She wished that every time she closed her eyes she didn't see his face, but most of all, with her fingers brushing over her lips in foreboding, she wished he had not kissed her, roughly and angrily. That'd been after he had carved various patterns into her flesh with his dagger. She'd passed out about thirty seconds after the kiss began, and had awaken alone in the desert for a brief moment before falling unconscious again.
Knives was sitting beside her now. When had he walked over? She didn't care. She leaned onto his shoulder and felt him lay a large hand to her head, petting it tenderly like he would a child. Then, his fingers dropped down to tangle gently in her blonde hair, playing with it absent-mindedly. There was something she really needed to tell him...
"It's going to get cold tonight, Stormie," he commented softly, the conversation so dead that he had to turn to the weather for direction.
She looked up at him, seeing that he was looking back, his features muted and simple in the darkness, eyes a deeper blue. Like a lake at night. Suddenly, it all blurred as tears sprang to her eyes.
"What's wrong now?" he said, concern touching his gruff voice. He hesitantly lifted a hand, as if he intended to brush away the salty droplets, but discomfort set in and he dropped his arm. "Stormie, don't let Naoshi get to you!"
She shook her head without so much as a sound, her lower lip trembling in a silent whimper. He didn't know how much it had hurt. He didn't realize how embarrassing it had been to be forced to kiss Naoshi. Then, she put her head back into his shoulder and said shakily, "It's ok, Knives. I'm fine. You're - you're right... Goodnight." And still, she had yet to tell him.
Knives dropped his head onto his chest and let himself drift off to sleep, hoping Stormie would do the same.
But she didn't. She just closed her eyes sadly and adjusted her head that she might whisper into his ear, "I'm leaving next week, Knives. If you won't fight this, how can you expect me too? It's making things worse...you ignoring everything that happened and telling me to get over it. I'm trying. But...I think I'd be better by myself...if - if only for a little while..."
And still, he had not heard.
~~~~~
The group is splitting up!! Oh no!! Well, next chapter will be happier - I don't want too much angst... Review.
