Disclaimer: the song is an Extract from The Kooks Naïve.
Chapter Twenty-four; I am blind
I'm not saying it was your fault
Although you could have done more
Oh you're so naive yet so
How could this be done
Your such a smiling sweetheart
Oh and your sweet and pretty face
In such an ugly way
Something so beautiful
That every time I look inside
I know that she knows that I'm not fond of asking
True or false it may be
She's still out to get me
Oranges, purples and pinks fell over the dark mountains, enclosing the lusciously green rainforest in the sunset. The peek of the yellow orb just disappeared behind the tips of the mountains, letting smooth yellow tendrils wash over the sky.
Wisps of a ghostly fog penetrated the grounds, outlining the swaying trees. Indomitable humidity swathed the air, an inferno of heat and frustration. Under a ripening plum tree sat an amply muscular man, his brow was furrowed and his face set.
"Oh bloody hell Angel! Would you cut out this pansy meditating shit, I've seen James bloody Bond solve a mystery faster than you, and that's with all the shagging!" Spike's raucous voice rang out over the Tibetan wilderness, sending flocks of birds thundering for safety.
"SPIKE! How many times do I have to say, shut. The. Fuck. Up!" The sitting man (Angel) roared.
Spike glared at him slumping against a near by palm tree, he lit up a fag the smoke furling around him in threads of smog like shadows. Resigned, the older vampire got up and carried on through the intense forest, continuing their distasteful quest.
A bright green, gold and pink peacock strutted out of the two-incensed vampire's way, looking on with what could only be described as superiority. Angel and Spike had been walking in the direction of north for almost a week now; they had been given hurried and guarded instructions from an old man in a hut. Just the mention of North sent most of the people they had seen packing, or worse into terrified hysterics.
They could sense they were nearing their destination; the air was more compact additionally it had the faint smell of innocent blood mixed with tropical flowers and spices.
"I am an Antichrist, yes I am an ANERCHIST!" Spike sang out forcefully, until a wide arm halted his blind progress onwards and a hand was clapped over his mouth.
"Shut up, I can hear something," Angel said, letting his hand fall from Spike's face. Spike halted, abruptly becoming serious. The sounds of forceful whispers were coming from their right.
"I guess we've found it," Angel said.
"Now how do we get in?" Spike asked.
"Listen they're moving away, on the count of three we'll head for it, ok?"
"You got it mate."
The whispers gradually faded into the distance along with the thuds of unfamiliar feet. Spike and Angel discreetly made their way through the compact plants and animals, ending up in a beautiful clearing, there was a tall brick box shaped tower in the middle, surrounded by blind robed figures with hooded faces. The mist was a lot denser there and had a clammy effect that the other thinner vapour didn't.
One of the figures seeming to glide across the ground, halted near them a crusty burned hand escaped from the folds of the cloak, almost touching the two paralysed vampires. It finally moved on giving them clear way to the towers entrance.
With a nod, they streaked through into the cool entrance hall, which seemed to glimmer with hope at the same time as a foreboding sense of insecurity. And there in the middle of the plainly tiled room was a box, wooden and padlocked by an emerald serpent.
Draco graced his fingers against her subtle flesh; he kissed her neck and cleavage hungrily. The arrogant blond boy was in his empty manner with a girl whose name he had forgotten. Her hair was cut choppily to breast length and died an electric blue, her eyes where sapphire collared and her skin milky white.
She manoeuvred herself into a more comfortable position on the white silk couch. Draco slipped in between her thighs almost knocking over an antique vase with his foot. He felt hot his eyes were clouded over and he really just wanted to go to sleep. I probably shouldn't have had that last streak of coke, he thought.
Draco moved to pull of her top but instead he slumped against her falling into what was to be a fitful sleep. The pixy like girl called Anna shook him gently.
"Merlin!" She heaved him of and shook her head, why does this always happen to me? Am I repulsive in some way, FUCK people are so bloody naive! She thought angrily. Anna straitened out her tiny skirt and top proceeding to flew back to her abusive step father at least I'll get a shag there! She scoffed.
When Draco awoke, he found his wallet and a golden family goblet gone, bollocks.
The room in which the box was concealed was oddly still; it seemed as if it and the pedestal where it sat were the only two things in the world. Spike took a hesitant step towards it, then becoming more confident in his stride he swaggered up to the loot.
Spike swiftly struck his hand out towards it, but instead of grasping onto solid wood his hand passed right through it. Perplexed he tried again more forcefully with the same result, the box seemed to be a hologram, a mirage of space and time that contradicted all laws of nature.
"What the fuck?" He exclaimed.
"Hold on it there's something written on the pedestal, move out the way," Angel commanded. Spike obliged standing back to look at the aged etchings.
"It's in Latin," Angel said.
"Yeah it says can not be found, can not be opened thou must find the key," Spike stated.
"Right does it say anything else?"
"Uh we're gonna have to get Dawn to translate it, I dropped out of Catholic school when I was thirteen, I don't exactly know all the complicated sayings in Latin."
"Ok I'll write it down, you try and figure out how to work that port-key thingy Willow gave us," Angel got to work on writing down the next two sentences, whilst Spike fiddled around with an empty sprite bottle.
000
Dawn rubbed her temples and placed the heavy book she was holding down, with a thud. She turned to the rest of the room with a wry smile. Spike and Angel had arrived about an hour previously and had given her the two sentences that made no sense to them.
"Ok well they preety much say; the key of glistening manner, innocent and perfect, small incoherent, uneasy, it will open the lock. It inconspicuous falling into the person who is living in this time least suspected hands." Dawn answered the un-asked question cautiously.
"Well that made a lot of none sense," Xander said.
"So we can presume it's an object?" Lola asked (she arrived back the day before).
"I guess, I mean a spell is also a likely candidate," Buffy said.
"Well for now we can only guess and hope the answer comes to us," Giles stated earning nods from the other occupants of the room.
Tyler's P.O.V
I have a secret, it's not a big one but I have one. I haven't told any one not my foster dad of the moment Brian (an immature un-employed lay about) not even Deon my best mate. You wanna know what it is. I have nothing I am nothing I have this whole façade of me thinking I'm the best that I only care about girls and the guitar.
Ye know what it's true, because I don't even know who I am I do only like guitars and girls but I hate it sometimes I scare myself with the fact that I'm so fucking insecure. I never knew my parents so I've been in and out of foster care all my shitty life. The only thing I've ever been certain of is the fact that I'm a wizard and my foster dad thinks I go to a performing arts boarding school. Apart from that, I have nothing no hopes dream or ambitions.
I fuck people it's what I'm good at, a good sodding shag. Nice talent eh? The one thing that keeps me grounded is Hogwarts, but in some ways I would be better of without it, I don't know what type of person I would be without magic and I should probably find out.
000
I was sitting by the window letting the golden winter sunlight caress my hair and every musty corner of the room. It shone down without heat, lighting up the dustiest corners of our flat.
The broken brown sofa was strewn with my nutritious lunch of crisps and cola. My guitar lay lopsided beside me and the carpet was trodden in with dried food and other substances I didn't like to ask about.
"Tyler mate you got any string?" asked Brian bringing me out of my musings.
"No. Why?"
"Oh I was trying to make a hover craft," he said as he looked under the sofa. I stared at him amazed by his stupidity, Brian model parent sure.
Deon's P.O.V
The day was beautiful, frost coated over everything, the sun was beating down with little success of making heat and the green lawn was scattered with young townies playing football.
I was sitting in the council estates large garden thinking about the past term. Ok so first I went through that brief spell of really wanting to hack up my arms, after that I came to terms with my friends wanting my advice all the bloody time, so they burden me a bit. I can live with that, right?
"Hay Deon!" my little sister Charlene called out to me from across the lawn "Mum wants you and Jack inn, now!" she swayed of her ass practically falling out her jeans and her beautiful curly hair bouncing around her shoulders.
I got up and started to make my way towards the house, calling out to my younger brother who was playing football. He sullenly tagged along behind me dragging his feet.
We walked up the outside stairs covered in piss and graphite; they went up so tall that you could see out right over Primrose Hill where we lived and to the other side where Camden lay.
I let us into the French doors that led into our overly crowded living room, where my grandma was knitting and my other two sisters (twins) were dancing and singing along to MTV.
"Deon hunny can I have a word with you in the kitchen?" My mom said, she's a bit plump and has a scar over her left eye where my dad cut her, my step dad is a lot less of an ass hole.
I shrugged and walked into our blue kitchen, my mother was making her famous Sunday roast and the room smelt of familiar spices and herbs.
"What's up?" I asked.
"I'm pulling you out," she said.
"What?"
"That school of yours Deon, it's dangerous. I just got a look at that paper the daily prophet…"
"You went into my room!" I cut across her fuming.
"DEON listen! People are dying every day in that world; it's not safe I don't want you involved in those cunts war!"
"Mum you can't!"
"Yes I can by Easter you are leaving! We're putting magic behind us and I'm sending you too the local school! No arguments, I am not being naïve about this any more!" she said shaking, her eyes were ablaze with tears and anger I briefly wondered what article she read.
"FUCK YOU!" I shouted and stormed into my room, deep down I knew she was right.