Innocence and Audacity
Chapter 3
AN: Here's a big, huge thanks to my four reviewers!!!!! I really appreciate the fact that you took the time to read my stuff and critique it. Sorry if there's been any more; all I can say is, as of right now, there haven't been. Thanks again! Anyone else who's reading this: I'd love it if you'd review. Go ahead and flame. I can take the heat (I think). Personally, I think my writing could use a lot of improvement, and I'd like ideas on how to do just that.
Disclaimer: This is a fan-fiction site. Ergo, this whole disclaimer thing is unnecessary.
The trudge through the marketplace felt endless. I guess it would, though: the view from inside a wooden box isn't exactly the best, and the footman...well, the only polite thing I can say about the way he carried Sango's fragile trunk is that he obviously didn't know it was carrying anything alive. But hey, I'm not gonna nit-pick too much. The important thing was that I was actually in the marketplace. My excitement began to overwhelm me...
Soon, my trunk was set down in what I presumed to be the shop. I heard the footman fill the shopkeeper in on the gritty details of the trunk's damages... shopkeeper? How was I going to get past him? I hadn't really thought that far ahead when I was planning this little trip, which was starting to seem like a really bad idea. Why hadn't I planned this out? What to do...what to do...the footman had left, and judging by the sounds of his feet, the shopkeeper was coming closer and closer...Okay, I was so busted...
*Flashback* "Take this money with you, and if you get into any trouble, remember to use it!" Sango, sounding more like a mother hen than ever, had saved me again. Bribery could be a quick and easy ticket out of this place... Suddenly, it happened. The trunk had been opened, and the shopkeeper was peering down at me with more than a little confusion in his beady, languid eyes. The rolls of flab around his face and hands shifted as he reached down to help me out of the trunk, and he gave me a rather unctuous smile as he purred, "Well, well, well. We certainly got more than we bargained for when we agreed to fix this trunk, didn't we, little missy?" Perfect. He seemed just the sort to accept my terms...or any sort, for that matter. He was actually a little creepy, in his red satin kimono bulging dangerously at the sides from too much flab, eyeing me as if I was nothing more than a succulent little morsel for him to devour. But I didn't have time to think about that now.
He came closer and closer, reeking of onions, cheap sake and day-old veal. "I'll have to tell your pa, that I will. We can't have no runaways on our city streets. I'll help you out, never you worry, girlie." Judging by his showy, opulent, gaudy shop and clothes, he was wealthy, but he sure talked like a grubber. I would be so happy to get out of here. I opened my mouth, but right before I prepared to give the storekeeper my most sunny smile and a big wad of cash to keep his mouth shut, we were interrupted.
"All right! We've gotcha cornered! Come out wit' your hands up, and bring the wench! An' if you don'...well, let's just say you won't like the new tricks I've learned, old man!" A most peculiar creature had entered the shopkeeper's tent. He was, by the looks of him, about 18 years old, tall and muscular, and basically normal, but for his long, white hair, and what appeared to be dog ears perched jauntily atop his head. Looking closer, I noticed his claws and fangs, which took the place of their more human counterparts. And his eyes... his eyes were dreamy pools of amber, the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen on a man. Dreamy and deep, but at the same time, flashing a dangerous intensity which conveyed his message much more powerfully than the petty threats he was making. He was ready to kill, and for the first time, I feared for my own life. By the way he talked, he was nothing more than a street thug, one that could probably be bought off easily, but his eyes told me not underestimate him.
I quickly followed the sniveling shopkeeper out into the sunlight of the marketplace (the former was, I might add, not nearly as big and tough when he had this fellow breathing down his neck. Wonder why). Blinking in the intense sun, my eyes scanned the scenery until they spotted something even more vivid: His eyes. Their incandescence burned all the more brightly once he noticed I was staring. Giving me a horrific glare, he stomped over and grabbed the pusillanimous shopkeeper by the sash of his no- longer-so-silky gown.
"Please don't kill me! Think about my wife and kids, Inu-..." With that, his face was slammed into the dirt, not so much painfully as humiliatingly. "You don't have a wife! An' you're too much of an incredible eyesore and a waste of good space to ever have one! The world will THANK me, for Dionysis's sake, for putting you out of your misery!" With that, he grabbed the shopkeeper by the collar and yanked him up, looking much the worse for wear. Our friend the shopkeeper had a face full of mud, a torn and filthy robe, and a grating, chalky voice, and continued to beg for forgiveness, though it appeared to be fruitless . I had no way of knowing, but the two of them sure seemed to have some sort of unsettled score.
"Please, master! I'll give you my shop, my first born son-.." Slam. "If you'll just spare my life! This is all a big misunderstanding!" Slam. This went on for about five minutes, with lil' ol' me just watching the bullying from the sidelines, until the white-haired guy finally got tired of slamming the slimy guy's face into the mud. As you can imagine, this took quite a while. White-hair didn't seem to be the sharpest tool in the shed, and he was furious to boot.
"Ahhh, whatever. I don't got any more time to waste here, pig. This was really just a warning, but I'll be back, to finish you off." I prepared to sneak away, unaware of why I hadn't attempted to earlier. Then, his eyes shifted, over to me. They no longer burned with such an intense hatred, but now, peered at me with a child' curiosity and mischief. Such eyes...one second, they were ablaze with rage, and the next, so childlike and wondering, but yet, so maddening. I didn't have much time to contemplate aesthetics, though...
"Waiiiiiit...I thought you didn't have a wife! You got yourself a little woman, huh?" The shopkeeper still had too much mud in his mouth and fear in his eyes to risk giving the man an answer that he didn't want; he cowered in dread instead. However, I was a different story, and my stupid mouth once again got me in trouble.
"What are you TALKING about??!! You think I would MARRY that lowlife? I'm gonna get you thrown in jail for what I've seen here today! Trust me, you might want to start running, because once I get to the palace and the king hears about the ruffians that are loose in the marketplace!" Okay, so I was grasping at straws. For one thing, he was the only hoodlum in sight; any friends of his were well-concealed and staying out of trouble. For another, the king wouldn't give a report of bullying a second glance. The kingdom certainly had other things to be worried about. The young man didn't know this, of course, and his eyes took on a more far-away cast as I rambled on. His eyes slid over in the direction of the palace as a smile spread slowly across his countenance. "Yes, the palace. That's exactly where I need to go", he mumbled, more to himself than to us. I'm not even sure if we were intended to hear. I shut up long enough to see him glance around, as if to get his bearings, and then, without warning, he glided away. Well, glided isn't the right word. He sort of jumped on the balls on his feet, and then, once he was airborne, he...for lack of a better word, he soared!
"Whoa..." Leaving the shopkeeper behind, and with stars in my eyes, I took off for my father's home. Yep, I abandoned all my plans to go the way I had seen the thug going. I knew that something was amiss, and though I didn't like to think about it, I also knew that the young punk would be involved, and not in a good way. No matter what happened, though, this should have been my first clue that I was changing. In just the short encounter I'd had with this dude, he'd rocked my world. Most people don't really have that kind of effect on me. And I didn't really like it, either.
Chapter 3
AN: Here's a big, huge thanks to my four reviewers!!!!! I really appreciate the fact that you took the time to read my stuff and critique it. Sorry if there's been any more; all I can say is, as of right now, there haven't been. Thanks again! Anyone else who's reading this: I'd love it if you'd review. Go ahead and flame. I can take the heat (I think). Personally, I think my writing could use a lot of improvement, and I'd like ideas on how to do just that.
Disclaimer: This is a fan-fiction site. Ergo, this whole disclaimer thing is unnecessary.
The trudge through the marketplace felt endless. I guess it would, though: the view from inside a wooden box isn't exactly the best, and the footman...well, the only polite thing I can say about the way he carried Sango's fragile trunk is that he obviously didn't know it was carrying anything alive. But hey, I'm not gonna nit-pick too much. The important thing was that I was actually in the marketplace. My excitement began to overwhelm me...
Soon, my trunk was set down in what I presumed to be the shop. I heard the footman fill the shopkeeper in on the gritty details of the trunk's damages... shopkeeper? How was I going to get past him? I hadn't really thought that far ahead when I was planning this little trip, which was starting to seem like a really bad idea. Why hadn't I planned this out? What to do...what to do...the footman had left, and judging by the sounds of his feet, the shopkeeper was coming closer and closer...Okay, I was so busted...
*Flashback* "Take this money with you, and if you get into any trouble, remember to use it!" Sango, sounding more like a mother hen than ever, had saved me again. Bribery could be a quick and easy ticket out of this place... Suddenly, it happened. The trunk had been opened, and the shopkeeper was peering down at me with more than a little confusion in his beady, languid eyes. The rolls of flab around his face and hands shifted as he reached down to help me out of the trunk, and he gave me a rather unctuous smile as he purred, "Well, well, well. We certainly got more than we bargained for when we agreed to fix this trunk, didn't we, little missy?" Perfect. He seemed just the sort to accept my terms...or any sort, for that matter. He was actually a little creepy, in his red satin kimono bulging dangerously at the sides from too much flab, eyeing me as if I was nothing more than a succulent little morsel for him to devour. But I didn't have time to think about that now.
He came closer and closer, reeking of onions, cheap sake and day-old veal. "I'll have to tell your pa, that I will. We can't have no runaways on our city streets. I'll help you out, never you worry, girlie." Judging by his showy, opulent, gaudy shop and clothes, he was wealthy, but he sure talked like a grubber. I would be so happy to get out of here. I opened my mouth, but right before I prepared to give the storekeeper my most sunny smile and a big wad of cash to keep his mouth shut, we were interrupted.
"All right! We've gotcha cornered! Come out wit' your hands up, and bring the wench! An' if you don'...well, let's just say you won't like the new tricks I've learned, old man!" A most peculiar creature had entered the shopkeeper's tent. He was, by the looks of him, about 18 years old, tall and muscular, and basically normal, but for his long, white hair, and what appeared to be dog ears perched jauntily atop his head. Looking closer, I noticed his claws and fangs, which took the place of their more human counterparts. And his eyes... his eyes were dreamy pools of amber, the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen on a man. Dreamy and deep, but at the same time, flashing a dangerous intensity which conveyed his message much more powerfully than the petty threats he was making. He was ready to kill, and for the first time, I feared for my own life. By the way he talked, he was nothing more than a street thug, one that could probably be bought off easily, but his eyes told me not underestimate him.
I quickly followed the sniveling shopkeeper out into the sunlight of the marketplace (the former was, I might add, not nearly as big and tough when he had this fellow breathing down his neck. Wonder why). Blinking in the intense sun, my eyes scanned the scenery until they spotted something even more vivid: His eyes. Their incandescence burned all the more brightly once he noticed I was staring. Giving me a horrific glare, he stomped over and grabbed the pusillanimous shopkeeper by the sash of his no- longer-so-silky gown.
"Please don't kill me! Think about my wife and kids, Inu-..." With that, his face was slammed into the dirt, not so much painfully as humiliatingly. "You don't have a wife! An' you're too much of an incredible eyesore and a waste of good space to ever have one! The world will THANK me, for Dionysis's sake, for putting you out of your misery!" With that, he grabbed the shopkeeper by the collar and yanked him up, looking much the worse for wear. Our friend the shopkeeper had a face full of mud, a torn and filthy robe, and a grating, chalky voice, and continued to beg for forgiveness, though it appeared to be fruitless . I had no way of knowing, but the two of them sure seemed to have some sort of unsettled score.
"Please, master! I'll give you my shop, my first born son-.." Slam. "If you'll just spare my life! This is all a big misunderstanding!" Slam. This went on for about five minutes, with lil' ol' me just watching the bullying from the sidelines, until the white-haired guy finally got tired of slamming the slimy guy's face into the mud. As you can imagine, this took quite a while. White-hair didn't seem to be the sharpest tool in the shed, and he was furious to boot.
"Ahhh, whatever. I don't got any more time to waste here, pig. This was really just a warning, but I'll be back, to finish you off." I prepared to sneak away, unaware of why I hadn't attempted to earlier. Then, his eyes shifted, over to me. They no longer burned with such an intense hatred, but now, peered at me with a child' curiosity and mischief. Such eyes...one second, they were ablaze with rage, and the next, so childlike and wondering, but yet, so maddening. I didn't have much time to contemplate aesthetics, though...
"Waiiiiiit...I thought you didn't have a wife! You got yourself a little woman, huh?" The shopkeeper still had too much mud in his mouth and fear in his eyes to risk giving the man an answer that he didn't want; he cowered in dread instead. However, I was a different story, and my stupid mouth once again got me in trouble.
"What are you TALKING about??!! You think I would MARRY that lowlife? I'm gonna get you thrown in jail for what I've seen here today! Trust me, you might want to start running, because once I get to the palace and the king hears about the ruffians that are loose in the marketplace!" Okay, so I was grasping at straws. For one thing, he was the only hoodlum in sight; any friends of his were well-concealed and staying out of trouble. For another, the king wouldn't give a report of bullying a second glance. The kingdom certainly had other things to be worried about. The young man didn't know this, of course, and his eyes took on a more far-away cast as I rambled on. His eyes slid over in the direction of the palace as a smile spread slowly across his countenance. "Yes, the palace. That's exactly where I need to go", he mumbled, more to himself than to us. I'm not even sure if we were intended to hear. I shut up long enough to see him glance around, as if to get his bearings, and then, without warning, he glided away. Well, glided isn't the right word. He sort of jumped on the balls on his feet, and then, once he was airborne, he...for lack of a better word, he soared!
"Whoa..." Leaving the shopkeeper behind, and with stars in my eyes, I took off for my father's home. Yep, I abandoned all my plans to go the way I had seen the thug going. I knew that something was amiss, and though I didn't like to think about it, I also knew that the young punk would be involved, and not in a good way. No matter what happened, though, this should have been my first clue that I was changing. In just the short encounter I'd had with this dude, he'd rocked my world. Most people don't really have that kind of effect on me. And I didn't really like it, either.