[AN: This is moving along very slowly. Any feedback is appreciated, as are any ideas you might have as to what you'd like to see in the plotline. Heh, I know, another Jr./MOMO fiction, but I couldn't resist. :3]
.
Tiny hands over glossy, freshly polished linoleum, making only the slightest of noises as she pushes toward the crayon on the opposite end. The prize is cerulean, slightly dulled from multiple uses, and the one color she needs in order to complete another drawing of an endless expanse of happiness. She's making a face, poor girl, kicking her feet against thin air as she loses her balance and falls back into the red plastic stool with a thud. Her knees knock against the underside of the counter, pushing her goal only a few inches more in the direction of the unretrievable. With a cry she's extending her arm again, pushes herself further and further, collapses onto the counter and clutches it in her tiny fist, so triumphant, eyes all lit up like a child on their birthday. Why, her face is just as red, as if she were prepared to blow out the candles on the cake.
But she is a child, Ziggy corrected as he watched his porcelain charge color vigorously over yellowed sketching paper. Just not in the sense everyone else thinks, of course. More like a baby doll on an occasion that came as close to a birthday as she'd ever come to.
"All done," she sang, looking it over. Not that there was anything wrong; the sky was blue, the grass a brilliant dark emerald, the flowers pastel pinks and yellows. She gripped the corners with little more than a thought as to how she'd smooth out the creases later on, oh so eager to show Ziggy how pretty it was. She wanted to go there, she says, to dance underneath the sun and swim in a vibrant ocean of mignonette and daisies. But she wanted the sun to be real. And she wanted her daddy to dance with her, to be happy and be close to her. She spilled her dreams onto paper with tiny pieces of colored wax, a present from Gaignun Kukai himself.
He didn't like that she was surrounded by everything that didn't deserve her. They were merely substitutions made when the real thing couldn't be bothered; A quick change of plans when there was a schedule to keep. He wasn't Joachim Mizrahi, and Joachim Mizrahi wasn't Jan Sauer**... Ziggurat 8. He didn't need to bother figuring out which one meant more to daddy's little girl. Ziggurat was happy to play the role of guardian, so long as he didn't become attached on any lengths when emotions were concerned.
The poor girl. She masked her fear by throwing herself headlong into her drawings. It upset him.
Surely a baby doll didn't have a single worry on her mind, other than how to make herself and others happy, maybe what to wear. The pretty dolls offered by Kukai's 18th district certainly didn't cry themselves to sleep at night, or lose themselves in nightmarish fantasy over past event. No, quite the contrary, them with the little velvet bows and lace dresses, stood prettily in the window waiting for someone to make a purchase and display them elsewhere. Completely oblivious, of course, not that they would give a care if they could. There was a moment where guilt seeped in; because he had referred to her, compared her to a toy? Something to display? He watched carefully as her boots met the ground and she ran, paper waving behind as a banner, quickly gone from the kitchen and out into the Elsa. He wanted to reach out and call her back, so he could lose himself in her gentle demeanor, but felt he shouldn't.
So easily lost.
.
]---------------------------------------------[
.
Picture discarded messily in cabin B, she hurried until the white-crested waves consumed her. There, water swirling in eddies to her ankles, MOMO allowed herself to soak in synthetic sunlight and brilliant blue sky in a leisurely manner rarely practiced. Why not take up such an incredible offer, a chance to spend a day in perfection by her lonesome? Allow herself such a luxury? Hopefully it wasn't a bad thing. God, don't let it be a bad thing. This is the closest to heaven I can come.
She studied the means of which the waves folded over themselves to the point of disappearance. So simply fascinating. Wind tugged gently through locks of carmine, at the edges of a black sailor's uniform, nipped at her bare forearms. But it felt good. Sun shone generously over her ghostly skin, and she, loving the warmth, spun haphazardly through the surf in ecstacy. Eventually everything must go down; she tripped into the water and didn't bother to stand, enjoying the coming and going of the current as it pulled the water inwards, towards land. She couldn't think of a reason to leave this place, ever.
"MOMO! MOMO!" He was worried. Afraid she'd hurt herself, he threw off his boots and stepped into the expanse. Two people in paradise, though she'd been enjoying it much more than he was just now. Such wonderful timing; she'd been longing to share it with someone.
"I'm fine. Don't worry, Jr." All it took was one of her smiles, the snug, comfy kind you'd just like to curl up in and never let go of, to take away any worries or preconceptions he had. He returned it with uncertainty, embarassment and relief, though the smile in his eyes was much more vibrant. Something drove him to sit down next to her, both completely clothed and not giving a damn, though Shion certainly would upon discovering their regular garments soaked through without reasonable explanation.
She loved the ocean, she told him. It was one of her many dreams to visit the real oceans someday, the ones that never ended and lasted forever, because she knew they existed. Where the bottom was so far down that the surface was navy blue. She wanted to sit in the sand and watch the sunrise and sunset and midnight moon as it hovered peacefully through the sky, the clouds overhead, sitting through the rain and heat and cold. She would draw in the sand and write messages for the stars to see. She'd be twelve years old and trapped in wonderland through hell and high waters. And she'd bring Jr., and Ziggy, and Shion, chaos, KOS-MOS, Mary, Gaignun, Shelley, Mommy, her sisters and Albedo.
There was a helplessness shining in his eyes that she couldn't comprehend. "Albedo?" tight-lipped and angry, he made a move to stand. She shifted nervously in preparation for his reaction to her next plea, a sinner in the church confessional.
"He told me about the ocean." They both stopped, watching the waves lap in and out on the sand, splashing slightly on impact and retreating. "I have a part of him. And a part of him saw the ocean, and he wanted me to see it, too. I love it." Her hands clasped together enigmatically, gestures meant to display her happiness, hardly of any solace as Jr. perplexed over what he'd just heard.
She wanted to know about his dreams, though he shook his head and told her there wasn't anything to dream about. Of course there is, you just have to think about it: What makes you the happiest? And with that he met her eyes and stated plainly, as if he were serious on the matter, that what brought him the most pleasure was shooting things. But it wasn't like that. It didn't involve hurting other people, MOMO scolded. What makes YOU the happiest? Just you? He pledged to put a little thought into it when he had the time. But why not now?
"Look, do you really want to know?" Yes, of course she wanted to know, as that was the point of asking the question in the first place. Did the ocean make him happy, too? Or did he enjoy the feeling of flying through space? And what about the books he kept, were those the key to his happiness? Maybe it was this foundation itself, she told him while closely examining the "sky" above them. She lowered her head only to meet his eyes as they looked jokingly over her body.
"What if I said that you were what made me happy? Sounds... Stupid, right?" And he became rather embarassed, yet holding her gaze with steadfast determination. She made him happy? Yeah. It seemed quite strange to MOMO, a new concept, with Jr. trying his best to explain. She made him feel... Different, energized, on top of the world; yet at the same time, scared, angry, and confused. MOMO was special to him, though he couldn't quite place why. There was just something... there. Explanation returned with blank stare, he went for the most simple words he could find.
His breath came heavily and there was a momentary pause for contemplation.
"I wanna be here through everything with you, just protect you and see you happy... Because when you're happy, things are just that much more simple. That's my paradise." And she turned to him with twinkling eyes, brilliant and joyful, red in the face, and beamed until he couldn't take it anymore, cupped her cheeks in his hands and kissed her for the first time. She started at first, unsure of how to react, stifling the giddy feeling creeping through her body, and then submitting to it.
For the time being, MOMO completely forgot about the ocean.
.
[send feedback to cathe@kururu.org]
.
Tiny hands over glossy, freshly polished linoleum, making only the slightest of noises as she pushes toward the crayon on the opposite end. The prize is cerulean, slightly dulled from multiple uses, and the one color she needs in order to complete another drawing of an endless expanse of happiness. She's making a face, poor girl, kicking her feet against thin air as she loses her balance and falls back into the red plastic stool with a thud. Her knees knock against the underside of the counter, pushing her goal only a few inches more in the direction of the unretrievable. With a cry she's extending her arm again, pushes herself further and further, collapses onto the counter and clutches it in her tiny fist, so triumphant, eyes all lit up like a child on their birthday. Why, her face is just as red, as if she were prepared to blow out the candles on the cake.
But she is a child, Ziggy corrected as he watched his porcelain charge color vigorously over yellowed sketching paper. Just not in the sense everyone else thinks, of course. More like a baby doll on an occasion that came as close to a birthday as she'd ever come to.
"All done," she sang, looking it over. Not that there was anything wrong; the sky was blue, the grass a brilliant dark emerald, the flowers pastel pinks and yellows. She gripped the corners with little more than a thought as to how she'd smooth out the creases later on, oh so eager to show Ziggy how pretty it was. She wanted to go there, she says, to dance underneath the sun and swim in a vibrant ocean of mignonette and daisies. But she wanted the sun to be real. And she wanted her daddy to dance with her, to be happy and be close to her. She spilled her dreams onto paper with tiny pieces of colored wax, a present from Gaignun Kukai himself.
He didn't like that she was surrounded by everything that didn't deserve her. They were merely substitutions made when the real thing couldn't be bothered; A quick change of plans when there was a schedule to keep. He wasn't Joachim Mizrahi, and Joachim Mizrahi wasn't Jan Sauer**... Ziggurat 8. He didn't need to bother figuring out which one meant more to daddy's little girl. Ziggurat was happy to play the role of guardian, so long as he didn't become attached on any lengths when emotions were concerned.
The poor girl. She masked her fear by throwing herself headlong into her drawings. It upset him.
Surely a baby doll didn't have a single worry on her mind, other than how to make herself and others happy, maybe what to wear. The pretty dolls offered by Kukai's 18th district certainly didn't cry themselves to sleep at night, or lose themselves in nightmarish fantasy over past event. No, quite the contrary, them with the little velvet bows and lace dresses, stood prettily in the window waiting for someone to make a purchase and display them elsewhere. Completely oblivious, of course, not that they would give a care if they could. There was a moment where guilt seeped in; because he had referred to her, compared her to a toy? Something to display? He watched carefully as her boots met the ground and she ran, paper waving behind as a banner, quickly gone from the kitchen and out into the Elsa. He wanted to reach out and call her back, so he could lose himself in her gentle demeanor, but felt he shouldn't.
So easily lost.
.
]---------------------------------------------[
.
Picture discarded messily in cabin B, she hurried until the white-crested waves consumed her. There, water swirling in eddies to her ankles, MOMO allowed herself to soak in synthetic sunlight and brilliant blue sky in a leisurely manner rarely practiced. Why not take up such an incredible offer, a chance to spend a day in perfection by her lonesome? Allow herself such a luxury? Hopefully it wasn't a bad thing. God, don't let it be a bad thing. This is the closest to heaven I can come.
She studied the means of which the waves folded over themselves to the point of disappearance. So simply fascinating. Wind tugged gently through locks of carmine, at the edges of a black sailor's uniform, nipped at her bare forearms. But it felt good. Sun shone generously over her ghostly skin, and she, loving the warmth, spun haphazardly through the surf in ecstacy. Eventually everything must go down; she tripped into the water and didn't bother to stand, enjoying the coming and going of the current as it pulled the water inwards, towards land. She couldn't think of a reason to leave this place, ever.
"MOMO! MOMO!" He was worried. Afraid she'd hurt herself, he threw off his boots and stepped into the expanse. Two people in paradise, though she'd been enjoying it much more than he was just now. Such wonderful timing; she'd been longing to share it with someone.
"I'm fine. Don't worry, Jr." All it took was one of her smiles, the snug, comfy kind you'd just like to curl up in and never let go of, to take away any worries or preconceptions he had. He returned it with uncertainty, embarassment and relief, though the smile in his eyes was much more vibrant. Something drove him to sit down next to her, both completely clothed and not giving a damn, though Shion certainly would upon discovering their regular garments soaked through without reasonable explanation.
She loved the ocean, she told him. It was one of her many dreams to visit the real oceans someday, the ones that never ended and lasted forever, because she knew they existed. Where the bottom was so far down that the surface was navy blue. She wanted to sit in the sand and watch the sunrise and sunset and midnight moon as it hovered peacefully through the sky, the clouds overhead, sitting through the rain and heat and cold. She would draw in the sand and write messages for the stars to see. She'd be twelve years old and trapped in wonderland through hell and high waters. And she'd bring Jr., and Ziggy, and Shion, chaos, KOS-MOS, Mary, Gaignun, Shelley, Mommy, her sisters and Albedo.
There was a helplessness shining in his eyes that she couldn't comprehend. "Albedo?" tight-lipped and angry, he made a move to stand. She shifted nervously in preparation for his reaction to her next plea, a sinner in the church confessional.
"He told me about the ocean." They both stopped, watching the waves lap in and out on the sand, splashing slightly on impact and retreating. "I have a part of him. And a part of him saw the ocean, and he wanted me to see it, too. I love it." Her hands clasped together enigmatically, gestures meant to display her happiness, hardly of any solace as Jr. perplexed over what he'd just heard.
She wanted to know about his dreams, though he shook his head and told her there wasn't anything to dream about. Of course there is, you just have to think about it: What makes you the happiest? And with that he met her eyes and stated plainly, as if he were serious on the matter, that what brought him the most pleasure was shooting things. But it wasn't like that. It didn't involve hurting other people, MOMO scolded. What makes YOU the happiest? Just you? He pledged to put a little thought into it when he had the time. But why not now?
"Look, do you really want to know?" Yes, of course she wanted to know, as that was the point of asking the question in the first place. Did the ocean make him happy, too? Or did he enjoy the feeling of flying through space? And what about the books he kept, were those the key to his happiness? Maybe it was this foundation itself, she told him while closely examining the "sky" above them. She lowered her head only to meet his eyes as they looked jokingly over her body.
"What if I said that you were what made me happy? Sounds... Stupid, right?" And he became rather embarassed, yet holding her gaze with steadfast determination. She made him happy? Yeah. It seemed quite strange to MOMO, a new concept, with Jr. trying his best to explain. She made him feel... Different, energized, on top of the world; yet at the same time, scared, angry, and confused. MOMO was special to him, though he couldn't quite place why. There was just something... there. Explanation returned with blank stare, he went for the most simple words he could find.
His breath came heavily and there was a momentary pause for contemplation.
"I wanna be here through everything with you, just protect you and see you happy... Because when you're happy, things are just that much more simple. That's my paradise." And she turned to him with twinkling eyes, brilliant and joyful, red in the face, and beamed until he couldn't take it anymore, cupped her cheeks in his hands and kissed her for the first time. She started at first, unsure of how to react, stifling the giddy feeling creeping through her body, and then submitting to it.
For the time being, MOMO completely forgot about the ocean.
.
[send feedback to cathe@kururu.org]