Green Eyes (Episode 1)
Bagoas
Harry's place is a lifeline. Not only is it the only decent place around here to get food, but the Master supplies plenty of coffee to go with it. Coffee is one of the few weaknesses I'll actually admit to having.
Zaizen informed me today that a replacement for Kate will be arriving soon. Its too soon, for me and Zaizen. Our reasons are different: too soon for me to think about tripping over another possible witch, and too soon for Zaizen to have his Orbo investigated thoroughly. Undoubtedly that is what this Craft-user is for. She's here to check on the progress of Orbo through subterfuge.
Zaizen is not happy. Neither am I.
I finish my coffee, nod courteously to the Master and get up. I tuck my hands into the pockets of my coat and head slowly for the door. I'm exhausted; it's been a long week of hunting with the team being one hunter short. I need to prepare for the new hunter, this Craft-user. I suppose I shall have to find her lodgings. I wonder how much of a fit Zaizen would have if Touko takes in the new girl?
I realize that I don't really care. Touko would do anything I ask, even if it spited her father. I feel guilty about taking advantage of Touko like that, but it's a feeling quickly dissipated. Touko is her father's daughter; she finds me mildly entertaining at best. She will have no use for a Seed like me.
I turn the corner of the long corridor into Harry's as a young girl turns the corner at the other end. The first thing I notice is her clothes. Very Puritan and very Gothic, the kind of thing I usually chase after without a second thought. I humorlessly call it my feckless nature to chase after girls who like to dress like witches.
The girl's hair is unusually done up in pigtails on the side, wrapped tightly in ribbon. Her hair is layered enough, though, that many strands do not stay in the ribbon's hold. A pointed chin and high cheeks bones are brushed by that dark honey colored hair. For a half-second I wonder what that hair would feel like sifting through my fingers. Soft like silk, maybe?
As we brush by we turn our faces to each other. Her eyes capture me. They are green, the green that reminds one of springtime. Innocence and worldliness are one in my brief glimpse of green.
We continue on our opposite paths, but I cannot resist another look over my shoulder. Straight back, firmly set shoulders, confidence radiates from every cell of her willowy body. Too willowy, I realize. She's very young, young enough to get me into legal trouble if I'm not careful. She disappears from view as I continue treading down the hall toward the outer door.
I sigh to myself. Why are all the intriguing women the ones I can't, or should not, have?
Bagoas
Harry's place is a lifeline. Not only is it the only decent place around here to get food, but the Master supplies plenty of coffee to go with it. Coffee is one of the few weaknesses I'll actually admit to having.
Zaizen informed me today that a replacement for Kate will be arriving soon. Its too soon, for me and Zaizen. Our reasons are different: too soon for me to think about tripping over another possible witch, and too soon for Zaizen to have his Orbo investigated thoroughly. Undoubtedly that is what this Craft-user is for. She's here to check on the progress of Orbo through subterfuge.
Zaizen is not happy. Neither am I.
I finish my coffee, nod courteously to the Master and get up. I tuck my hands into the pockets of my coat and head slowly for the door. I'm exhausted; it's been a long week of hunting with the team being one hunter short. I need to prepare for the new hunter, this Craft-user. I suppose I shall have to find her lodgings. I wonder how much of a fit Zaizen would have if Touko takes in the new girl?
I realize that I don't really care. Touko would do anything I ask, even if it spited her father. I feel guilty about taking advantage of Touko like that, but it's a feeling quickly dissipated. Touko is her father's daughter; she finds me mildly entertaining at best. She will have no use for a Seed like me.
I turn the corner of the long corridor into Harry's as a young girl turns the corner at the other end. The first thing I notice is her clothes. Very Puritan and very Gothic, the kind of thing I usually chase after without a second thought. I humorlessly call it my feckless nature to chase after girls who like to dress like witches.
The girl's hair is unusually done up in pigtails on the side, wrapped tightly in ribbon. Her hair is layered enough, though, that many strands do not stay in the ribbon's hold. A pointed chin and high cheeks bones are brushed by that dark honey colored hair. For a half-second I wonder what that hair would feel like sifting through my fingers. Soft like silk, maybe?
As we brush by we turn our faces to each other. Her eyes capture me. They are green, the green that reminds one of springtime. Innocence and worldliness are one in my brief glimpse of green.
We continue on our opposite paths, but I cannot resist another look over my shoulder. Straight back, firmly set shoulders, confidence radiates from every cell of her willowy body. Too willowy, I realize. She's very young, young enough to get me into legal trouble if I'm not careful. She disappears from view as I continue treading down the hall toward the outer door.
I sigh to myself. Why are all the intriguing women the ones I can't, or should not, have?