Luck was not something that had been abundant in Howl's life. His parents had disappeared when he was around five years old. They had dropped him off at a park, told him they would be right back. He had waited all day, had even slept in the tunnel slide that night, but by morning there was still no sign of his parents. He had wandered the streets, was placed in foster care at one point, but he simply ran away and ended up living on the streets, cared for by various vagrants he happened across. He had still been living on the streets when he'd been picked up and brought here to this island.
Now he was standing there, and Howl just couldn't believe who he had managed to spill his dinner all over. He remembered Trace from his own group of new arrivals, and he had noticed her right away. She was exotically beautiful, and she had a tenacity and a fight for life that he found most intriguing. He had watched her from afar for the last several years, picking up tidbits of information about her from the familiars and other animals that invaded the compound, though there wasn't much that she had shared with anyone about her previous life. Her mystique also drew him to her, but this was not exactly how he wished to make an impression.
"No," he said, calmly for a guy facing a very angry and notably violent woman, "I can't say I want that." He swallowed hard and looked at her with his intense eyes, his hands held out and open ever so slightly so as to be non-threatening.
It wasn't a matter of not being able to defend himself in a fight, for Howl was stronger and quicker than he looked. He had grown up having to hold his own and fight back to protect himself and his food and belongings. He had learned how to disarm and incapacitate with speed and ease. He could throw a punch pretty well, too. However, this was not someone he ever wanted to need to lay a hand on, for any reason, and he could only hope there was a way out of this.
"I'm sorry," he repeated, trying to sound as sincere as possible, "I didn't mean to spill food on you. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?" The other thing he had learned on the streets, besides physical fighting, was flattery and charm. You'd be surprised how far that would get you even when you're homeless.
Creativity
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Posted: 8/28/2018 at 5:05 PM
Post #112
As Trace pulled her fist back to pommel him in the face, she realized that she had no idea what she was doing. Once upon a time, she had been a gentler person. She had always been prone to violence, true, but she was less quick to get angered. When she was a child, her mother would chide her aggressive nature, and tell her about how a lady shouldn't be getting her hands dirty. A lady won her fights with cutting words. But words had never been a forte of Trace's, and she rather liked mud between her fingers. Still, she was calmer then. She attended her Hindi school, and learned about the basic principles of life.
Where had that gone?
Her anger flared up once again like the fire that took her mother from her, and she pulled her first back anymore, other hand reaching out and grabbing Howl by the front of his shirt. By God, she needed to let it out. She needed to be rid of this fury. It was going to eat her alive.
She wasn't going to grace Howl with a reply, at first. She moved to throw the punch, but was interrupted by Kutta barking. Trace pulled back and glared at her hound, who whined a bit and barked again, stopping her. Trace sure as hell couldn't speak to animals, but she knew that the familiar was telling her to back off. This wasn't reasonable.
After a deep, steadying breath, Trace did. She wiped at the front of her red tank top again, trying to void it of all disgusting food that he had spilled onto her. She leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest. All of the chicken and a good portion of the mashed potatoes had fallen onto the ground and lay in front of her.
The anger was still there. It was still singeing her. So Trace sneered and toed at a clump of potatoes. "Lick it up," she instructed cruelly.
Edited By Creativity on 8/29/2018 at 6:30 PM.
Britters
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Posted: 8/29/2018 at 12:28 AM
Post #113
Hunger was a beast, but it was one that Tox was familiar with. There had been a number of times after his parents had kicked him out that he had gone without food. The fact they he and Brain had not found any food in the crates was not what was continuing to bother him. Being around her was still mightily confusing for him, even though he had tried to stop beating himself up for his feelings. That in itself had his head spinning, attempting to change his mindset on the situation.
"It helps to me to keep moving," he said to Brain absently, rolling his shoulder and grunting a bit in pain, "Though maybe you're right, I could use a break." He sighed heavily and turned to look at her, trying to ignore the flop in his stomach at the sight of her.
There was a nice breeze coming in through the ragged holes in the shipping container, and Tox gazed thoughtfully at them again, if only so he didn't start staring at Brain. His thoughts were not on their imprisonment though, which was becoming very unsurprising. He could think of nothing but bright red hair, emerald green eyes, and freckled skin. He couldn't help it, and for the first time in...forever, he felt like he should just allow himself to feel what he wanted to feel, to be happy about something. He didn't think he'd ever tried to do that since his sister's death.
"At least we found those tablecloths," he mused aloud, scratching his chin and then running his hand through his hair, feeling antsy, "We'll be able to use them as blankets tonight." He chewed the inside of his cheek for a few moments and then realized that his was fidgeting up a storm and stood up with a frustrated sigh. "I hate just sitting here. I need to do something, talk about something...I don't know."
It had always been hard to relax for Tox. He was an active sort of person unless he chose to do so. Being here was not his choice, and he was finding it extremely difficult to sit around waiting for someone to discover they were missing. Fang tried to hiss comfortingly in his ear, but he was too all over the place to pay much attention to the snake. He just had to find a way to occupy himself until they go out of here, and he had to find a way to do so without driving himself crazy thinking about Brain.
-----
Attraction was a funny thing. There never seemed to be any rhyme or reason to it, and Howl found himself musing on the concept as he stood there gazing at Trace. Her dark brown hair was thick and shined in the sunlight. Her reddish brown skin was smooth and flawless. She had a strong nose and a delicate chin. In short, she was beautiful, but that physical beauty was wrapped around a personality that was violent by nature, there was almost nothing obviously lovable about it her. Despite this, he knew how he felt whenever he saw her, and it would not be denied.
Now, just because Howl clearly had a crush on this woman, he had never been one to let himself be pushed around. He was calm and non-confrontational as a rule, he had learned during his early days on the streets that you never went looking for a fight, but he knew when to let his fiercer side out. Trace was clearly looking for a fight, especially with their green-haired, reluctant leader absent at the moment, and if it had not been him it would have been someone else eventually.
"No," he said very simply, his intense eyes never leaving hers, "I won't be doing that..." He trailed off briefly as his attention flitted to the hound dog sitting next to Trace. He nodded his head imperceptibly at her and then looked back at Trace. "I'm unfortunately needed back in the infirmary. Perhaps we can continue this later?"
There was a feeling of sadness pervading Howl's body as he waited for Trace's verdict on whether he was allowed to leave. He would of course simply leave anyway, but her familiar had expressed concern over her person's heart rate and general health, which had caused him to want to end this on a calmer note. He didn't know what the bloodhound had been referring to, but it was clear that there was more to Trace than even his own investigations had revealed.
Edited By Britters on 8/29/2018 at 6:46 PM.
Creativity
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Posted: 8/29/2018 at 7:26 PM
Post #114
It was almost painful for Brain to listen to Tox freak out like he was. He was clearly frustrated, though she couldn't tell if he were frustrated at Crypt, her, their situation, the shipping container, Necro, or himself, or even, any combination of the above. It still tightened her chest to hear him rant about how restless he had become in this enclosed area. In truth, she didn't mind his fiddling around, but she was concerned for him and his injured shoulder.
He really shouldn't be moving it so much, especially when it was so fresh an injury. She couldn't even imagine what sort of pain he must feel when he moved around the numerous boxes and such and sifted through them. So she cocked her head to the side and scooted farther back on her crate, determined to find a way he could keep busy without moving his shoulder too much.
"Talk to me, then," she decided, staring right at him unabashedly. "Just talk to me. Tell me about anything; about your old life, the good, the bad. Your opinions on the compound. Your opinions on the people here. Talk about Kicker, or your leadership position and how much you hate it, or any bad times at the check-ups. Tell me what your favorite color is. What makes you smile and what makes you frown? Talk about giraffes," she grinned lopsidedly at him now, eyes sparkling with amusement.
She straightened her head and scooted back to the edge of the crate she was sitting on, legs dangling off and moving just a little bit idly. "Anything you feel comfortable with. I'm a good listener, you know. I promise I won't forget anything," her smile grew a little larger.
Britters
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Posted: 8/29/2018 at 11:27 PM
Post #115
The pain in Tox's shoulder had gotten a bit worse again since he was overworking it and not resting. He knew he needed to take a break, or else his injury would get really bad, but every time he sat down he just started fidgeting again. He didn't seem to be able to help it, and he was becoming frustrated with himself. It went behind just knowing he was acting like an antsy child, because he also hated that he was showing such a weakness in front of Brain. It pained him that she was seeing him this way, even though this morning he probably would have looked on it as a blessing.
When Brain made her suggestion to him, there was no denying it, Tox's mind went totally blank. He stared at her, his brown eyes wide like a deer in the headlights of a car, and struggled to form words. His whole body felt warm, a combination of gratitude for her trying to help him, as well as a reaction to her smile. Her smile was so beautiful, he was having a hard time focusing on anything else. He knew he had to say something, and soon, or else she was likely to think he was not answering her because she thought her asking him to talk to her was stupid.
"I like green," he blurted out lamely, and then squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose as he quickly realized how stupid he sounded, "Um, I mean, green is my favorite color...which is why my hair...is green." He felt like he was just digging himself a deep, deep hole and he just wanted to bury himself in the dirt and not come out.
This was so unlike him, and Tox couldn't believe he felt so frazzled. He was not usually the type to be so...awkward. He wasn't the most social guy in the world but typically had himself a lot more together than he felt right now. He looked Brain straight in the face again, trying to knock some sense into himself internally. This was Brain, he needed to talk to her like he had been able to the other day. His feelings were different, but she was not, and she deserved his trust and he wanted her to feel that from him.
"You are a good listener," he said, managing a warm smile of his own as he walked over to her and sat down on the crate next to her, "How about you tell me about yourself for a change? We can start simple, like whats your favorite color?" He did his best to keep from leaning closer to her, to keep his distance, because he didn't want to screw this up again.
Creativity
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Posted: 8/30/2018 at 12:15 AM
Post #116
Green. It was so simple, so obvious that Brain was surprised at herself that she hadn't put two and two together before. Of course, Tox's hair would be green because that was his favorite color. Though, she would admit to herself, she had considered the fact that his hair was naturally that vibrant color by some strange mutation, perhaps even related to his Ability. But it would make sense that he would dye it - maybe he had some deal worked out with the kitchen staff and scientists for ingredients for a homemade dye or some such thing.
It was predictable, by looking at him, that his favorite color would be green, but it was still so uniquely Tox that her smile remained on her face. It did falter a little bit, however, when he asked her about herself, actually wanted her to speak of herself, which was absolutely not the point of where she had led this conversation. She wanted to give him something to do, and to learn about him in the meantime. Not divulge her own interests.
'Papa, papa, look what I made in art class! It's you and God and you're both smiling and happy and-'
'Get that out of my face, Mneme. I don't care and I'm busy. Go play in the dirt or something.'
"I never really talk about myself much, because more often than not, people don't really care," Brain shrugged, not quite meeting Tox's gaze as she lightly toed the latch on the crate that he was now sitting next to her on. When he sat, it became just a tad bit harder to breathe, but she figured that was just because she was still in this enclosed space.
She wasn't going to say anything else, but then she heard the genuine interest in Tox's tone, and... What did she have to lose? "Purple," she murmured, then glanced at him almost shyly. "N-not like the bold royal kind, though. More subtle. Like the hints of l-lavender in sunrise, buried underneath the oranges and pinks. Do you know what I mean?"
Britters
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Posted: 8/30/2018 at 3:31 PM
Post #117
Green was definitely Tox's favorite color, even though his hair had first been dyed when he'd joined the street gang. It was an identification mark, a show of ownership almost as well as a nod to the name they had given him, Doku (poison in Japanese). Despite that he liked the color for its vibrancy, for its sense of danger. It made him feel powerful and protected, especially when he wanted nothing more than to be left alone it often served a warning to others that he was not to be trifled with. Though, he also had another reason now to love the color green...
The fading sunlight streaming in through the sides of the shipping container reflected in Brain's emerald green eyes as they refused to lock onto Tox's own brown eyes. He watched her expression falter ever so slightly and knew it was because he had turned the tables on her by asking her to tell him about herself. He didn't regret his decision to do so, he only wished he could convince her that it was alright. For what was probably not the last time, he had the almost irresistible urge to wrap his arms around her in comfort.
"I care," he said softly, his voice warm and genuine as he looked at her, "Besides, I like listening to you talk. Its soothing." He almost scolded himself for saying such a thing, but he remembered his vow to try and let his feelings be what they wanted.
When Brain acquiesced to Tox's request and gave him her answer, the smile on his face grew wider. The trust she as showing him was intoxicating, and he was beginning to feel like he would do almost anything to never cause her to doubt that trust. As she spoke of her favorite color he could almost see what she was picturing, the colors streaking the sky as the sun began its ascent, the light purple tones hiding amongst the bolder colors, but still beautiful if you knew where to look, not unlike Brain herself really.
"Yes," he said, nodding his head, "I do know what you mean. Why don't you ask me another question now? We can trade off answering each question and pass some time." He hoped she would agree, for he wanted to know absolutely everything, and it was becoming more apparent with each passing moment just how futile it had been to try denying to himself that he had feelings for her.
Creativity
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Posted: 8/30/2018 at 7:36 PM
Post #118
When Brain had been a child, no one had ever shown much care for her. She felt like she was growing up alone in the world, having to fend off those that wished to end her time in it. At some point in her life, she had latched onto that being of being alone and turned it into independence. Seeing as it was all she had known, she had clung onto it, making it the only thing that she could hold onto when things got rough. It was simple for her that no one ever really cared about her or her opinions other than Lance. It had stopped hurting a long while ago, and had become just another part of her life.
But when Tox looked at her and told her that he cared, the look in his eyes was so heartbreakingly genuine that she couldn't take it. She looked away again, feeling heat smother her ears and then flood into her freckled face. There was something about that expression on his face, something that was so haunting, she couldn't quite shake it, even as she diverted her eyes.
She did look at him, though, with a slight amount of ferocity in her gaze, as he called her voice soothing. "Soothing?" she gave an empty laugh at the thought. "I t-trip over every other word. I assure you, there is nothing soothing about a stutter."
A tiny flame of anger was flaring up within her. Not at him, but at herself, and at her ridiculous oral issue. Presentations in school had never been very fun because of it. She panicked at the anger and refused to let anything of the sort ruin her moment with Tox. Instead, she swallowed her bitterness and focused on what he said next.
"It's your turn," she gave a small smirk. "I came up with the color question. It's your turn to pick a question. Or else it would never be fair to you, now w-would it?"
Britters
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Posted: 9/1/2018 at 12:41 AM
Post #119
There had been enough good in Tox's early childhood, that he was still capable of thinking of his parents fondly, but more often than not he chose to remember the bad. He chose to remember the bad because remembering the good was even more painful. He didn't want to remember happy times with his family, with his mom and dad...with his sister. At least when he thought about the horrible stuff, like when his parents shunned him, threw him out of the house like so much waste, he knew how to feel.
Looking at Brain, looking at her freckled face and the way her ears reddened when he stated that he cared about what she had to say, Tox felt...warm. He felt happy the he cared, and both of those emotions had been nearly non-existent to him in the last ten years. There was still a part of him that railed against these emotions, that wanted him to resist and go back to just being angry and distant. It took everything he had to push those thoughts back, to let himself just sit there and enjoy looking at her.
"Well, I guess I'm just not an ordinary person," he said to her with a smirk, "Because I find myself quite soothed." He flashed a broad grin at her and took a moment to roll his shoulder again. He could feel it getting stiff, but at least he had stopped using it so much.
Scratching his chin, Tox looked at Brain thoughtfully. He supposed she had a point, if they played by the rules of his proposal it was technically his turn. He thought about what he could ask her. There were so many things he wanted to know, but he knew he had to be careful with what he asked because he didn't want to spook her. This was a delicate situation, and he didn't want to ruin their moment. He wanted to be able to just sit here and talk to her for as long as they wanted.
"Alright, I guess you're right," he said, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, "Lets start with...whats your favorite food?" He grinned at her again, looking at her as though he was ready to hang on her every word. For tonight, he was going to try and let himself be happy.
Creativity
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Posted: 9/1/2018 at 2:35 PM
Post #120
Although Brain's childhood had not been the best childhood that she could have had, she often times preferred to recall the happier moments of it. With her infinite memory, it was so easy to remember all of the bad, but those just made those good moments so much better. The memories of when her mother was sober and clear were so wonderful most of the time, as well as those moments when her father would acknowledge her as a person rather than a devil's spawn.
There was one day in particular, on one of her parents' anniversaries, that Brain's mother had decided to fight the withdrawals for the day and be clear enough to act like a part of the family. She had made a special cherry-broiled salmon with steamed broccoli and snap peas on the side, and eleven year-old Brain remembered becoming intoxicated by the fumes of it. Of course, when it came to dinner time, her father refused to allow her to eat.
That was something that he actually did quite often, but she had found that one of her neighbors would let her into his blueberry garden to pick a bushel every harvest, and then she'd do yard work for some of her other neighbors, and get money to buy food for herself.
"Seafood," she answered Tox, being drawn back out of her thoughts as she realized he was still waiting for an answer. She gave a small shrug and scooted closer to the edge of the crate so she could tap the ground with her foot idly.
"Salmon, specifically," she added. "But really, all seafood has always been my favorite. You're asking about food because we have none, aren't you?" she grinned knowingly up at him. She was no stranger to hunger, but she tried to keep her mind off of it.
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