It was amazing, really, to Trace that Howl was so calm about this entire scenario. He was like an anchor, keeping steady in a raging storm. She had never been able to accomplish that level of calm, of confidence. Even what he said made her shake her head a little in disbelief. How could he not care about the possibility of them being killed by the scientists in here? How could he not care whether he lived?
Living was all Trace had ever wanted to do. There were so many forces trying to take that privilege away, though, and she had found herself in a continuous fight for survival.
"I don't understand ya..." she sighed, her voice quiet but confused. It truly didn't seem to matter to him whether he lived or died. Was his life really so bland that death was as good an option as life to him? Her head shook a little more in absolute confusion. "And I got plenty enough strength," she rolled her eyes, finally lifting her head.
With another sigh, she rubbed at her forehead. This situation was certainly not ideal. She knew she'd escape, though. She'd always escaped before. In all honesty, she just didn't have the energy right now. Her heart was causing her pain, and she'd rather just center herself some more for the rest of the night and save the escape attempts for tomorrow, if they were still in here tomorrow.
When Howl spoke again, she was a little surprised. She thought he'd have given up, but he seemed more creative than that, and had begun asking questions.
She debated whether she should answer him or not, then figured, why not? If anything, it would distract her. "I was born in India," she revealed, studying her hands. "But at six, we shot through and came to Australia." There. That was enough. The truth, but not too revealing, and no ugly emotions associated. "You?"
-
When she first learned how to drive, it had been Spirit's favorite thing to do. She was free, and the world was open to her. At night, she'd take her father's truck off-road, into the wonderful landscape of her home. She'd love the feeling of being so...liberated. She didn't have to worry about her brothers then, or her homework, or any stress of the days. When she lost her eye, she was devastated, but not particularly about being unable to drive. Legally. Despite it being her favorite activity, it was not the most important thing in the world. And after some time, she realized that she could get away with driving.
While she was driving, though, Kraftaverk kept poking his head up to the front seat, laying it on the center console and staring at her pathetically. She tried to ignore him for the most part, but gave in every now and then and rubbed his ears lovingly.
Spirit wasn't really expecting anything upon reaching Cyber's destination. Probably just the people Cyber had said depended on her. In fact, Spirit was ready to give Cyber some wonderful news if that was the case.
When they reached the sickly old woman in the bed, Spirit's chest ached a little bit in sympathy. She knew what it was like, oh yeah. When she was ten, her mother had been diagnosed with stage four breast cancer. The doctors were completely certain she wasn't going to live. It was some miracle, when her mother was on her deathbed, some God above that took pity, that opened His heart to her and sent her into remission.
She wanted to say something, but for once had nothing to say. Instead she placed a comforting hand on Cyber's shoulder. At least, for a minute, before she stepped inside, ahead of Cyber, and approached the woman.
She crouched by the bed and gave the old woman a gentle smile. "Gud er med ther, hugrakkur einn. Vid munum hjalpa ther," she said, accidentally slipping into her native tongue. However, she was fairly certain she saw a ghost of a smile on the old woman's face at the recognized sentiment.
Britters
Level 72
The Eggstraordinaire
Joined: 8/25/2014
Threads: 167
Posts: 2,041
Posted: 11/16/2018 at 3:51 PM
Post #252
In a slot of ways Howl understood how strange most people found his perspectives on life, but then he also didn't really think that he was being that odd. He loved life, wanted to continue living and experiencing things for as long as possible, but he supposed the simplest way of explaining it would be that he just believed in fate. Things happened for a reason, and sometimes instead of fighting the current it was better to just let the river carry you along and see where it took you. He knew Trace didn't follow his philosophy, but in a way that was part of what made her so attractive to him.
Listening to Trace tell him about where she had grown up, Howl was first surprised that she had even answered his question. She still seemed so drained of energy and it concerned him, but at least she was showing a tint bit more life now. Between her looks and her accent, he had already pretty much been able to pinpoint her origins, but listening to her talk about her life still fascinated him. There was definitely more she wasn't telling him, but that was alright since the important thing had been to get her to respond.
"India to Australia," he mused out loud, scratching at her stubbly chin, "That's quite the journey. There was the Indian food place I used to walk by all the time when I was younger and everything smelled so good." Food always seemed to be the most important thing on his mind.
When Trace turned the tables and asked Howl about where he had lived, he took a few minutes to ponder his answer. It wasn't that talking about his past made him ashamed or uncomfortable, but he had a feeling oversharing would be a mistake in this case. He found that he desperately wanted to tell Trace everything, and maybe oneday he would get the chance to, but for now he knew he had to be careful. She had given him a simple answer so perhaps that was the best policy for him as well.
"I am from Tripoli, which is a city in Greece," he told her casually, his eyes momentarily getting a faraway look in them, "I spent my whole life there...vefore being brought to this island of course." Oh, he only wished he could say more, but just the fact that they were having a normal conversation made him very happy.
-----
When she was twelve years old, Symphony had started to sneak out of her mother's fancy condo at the heart of one of the richest neighborhoods in New York. Her father's sister had managed to smuggle a letter to her at the private school she attended, and it had contained a wish for Symphony to know her other family members. There had been an address in the letter and she wasted no time in finding a way to get there without her mother or grandparents knowing her plans. It wasn't hard, for they thought they had raised a perfectly obedient little girl. They could not have known just how wrong they were...
Upon discovering this entire other half to her identity, Symphony felt the weight of all the lies she had been told as a child. Her connection with her father's family ran deep, and it felt as though she was suddenly finding herself all over again. She began to sneak away regularly to spend time with these other people, and by he time she was finally discovered it was much too late for her mother or grandparents to try and do anything about it. She had become a headstrong teenager by that point who would not be held back from what she really wanted, and what she wanted was to be with the family that really understood her and cherished her for who she was.
Standing there in the doorway to her grandmothers room, watching Spirit step forward ahead of her and address the elderly woman, Symphony could very clearly remember the day that her mother and grandparents had given her the ultimatum: stop seeing her father's relatives or say goodbye to her inheritance and being welcome in their home. It was both the easiest and hardest decision she'd ever made. She knew her mother was heavily controlled by her parents, that she had truly loved Symphony's father and his family, but she couldn't be her mother's backbone. She had to live her life the way she felt was right.
"What you sayin' to her?" she asked Spirit mildly, wrinkling her nose, "Been a good minute since I seen her smile." She stepped forward to the other side of the bed from Spirit, laying her hand over the frail hand of her grandmother.
The woman was more important to Symphony than she thought she'd ever be able to express to anyone who didn't know Nana Jones. She had taken in this wild and angry child and taught her how to look at the world in the best light. She had shown her granddaughter how to simply be grateful for the simple things in life, that the lavish material possessions her grandparents surrounded themselves with were meaningly. Nana Jones had taught her that all that really mattered in life was family and love, which was the most important lesson she figured she'd ever learned.
"Nana," she said softly, her voice hitching ever so slightly with sudden emotion, "This here a friend of mine. She's goin' to take me somewhere for a while, to help some people need helpin'. I dunno how long I'll be gone, but you got Yvonne in the other room and I'll leave her a note sayin' to have the boys come over and stay with ya while I'm gone, alright?" There wasn't much of an answer, just the slight pressure of her grandmother's hand closing around hers briefly, and she couldn't stop the pair of tears which slowly trailed down her face.
Edited By Britters on 11/17/2018 at 6:05 PM.
Creativity
Level 72
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Joined: 3/4/2013
Threads: 255
Posts: 5,902
Posted: 11/19/2018 at 7:09 PM
Post #253
Often, Trace wondered what would have happened in her life had she not been taken into Mantis in the first place. Had she not helped find that little girl. Had her father not died. Had they never moved to Australia. Had that caravan never burned down. Would she be an entirely different person, or the same person in a different scenario? Would she still end up here? Would the Gods have interfered and set her on the right path? Had they done so already? Was that what the burning of the caravan was, or her father's unfortunate trip?
She was giving herself a headache now. Slowly, Trace came back to reality, focusing as best she could on her conversation with Howl. If anything, the conversation was waking her up a little, pulling her out of her shell. It kept her from falling into a depressive pit where she dreamed of murdering every single white-coated person she could find, and that was good enough.
Without meaning to, Trace found herself studying Howl. He was rather handsome, with a rough edge to him that she admired. Erik was like that. Erik had grown up a foster child, bouncing from home to home with his one brother until they were separated. Trace had vowed to him that she'd help him find his brother one day, but he always seemed hesitant. Perhaps he was afraid. She told him she'd wait until he was ready.
"Greece?" she asked lightly. "I've been there once."
It wasn't a lie. A wealthy Grecian businessman had once caught word of her work in Australia, and well... He flew her out to perform a job for him. Trace's memory of Greece was limited to a night outside her hotel and then a scuffle in an old-fashioned factory. She remembered being overpowered by the bulky man, being pushed down into an open machine. Whirring, so close to her ear, and then deafening pain. She swallowed hard and decided not to say anything more.
-
Immediately, Spirit knew that she liked this old woman, Cyber's grandmother, she presumed. Spirit had always been fond of more intimate situations like this. Perhaps, she thought, it had to do with growing up on her parents' farm. Herding cattle, collecting eggs, growing your own food... There was something so incredibly intimate about it. Her parents had been simple, but her brothers and her had all had much bigger aspirations for their futures than living in that two-bedroom house their whole lives.
After the war, Spirit had spent more time learning about society, and found a much less intimate and much more cruel world to greet her. She had to toughen up from her farm-girl origins and learn how to speak to people in a way where you got what you wanted. She ascended ranks in Iceland, and spent years studying body language and speech in general. She learned more languages, expanded her knowledge, until a scandal was released into the press, revealing her disfigurement that she had tried so hard to hide from the people and her career was ruined. That's when she learned that she didn't want that to begin with. Not long after, she was taken into Mantis.
"I was telling her... It's not entirely important. She understood what I meant," Spirit said, flashing Cyber a small, reassuring smile. "I apologize for my manners, though. I don't often slip into my native tongue."
She watched as Cyber talked to her grandmother, feeling a little out-of-place now that she was out of the conversation. She felt like she was intruding, but didn't say anything at first. At least, not until Cyber was done talking. Then, Spirit placed a hand on the other girl's shoulder.
"We have...resources. At the resistance. Professional doctors and rather expensive medicines. We can help her. I told her that. We can help her."
Britters
Level 72
The Eggstraordinaire
Joined: 8/25/2014
Threads: 167
Posts: 2,041
Posted: 12/27/2018 at 2:20 AM
Post #254
If someone were to ask Howl if he ever imagined what his life might have been like if things had been different, he would immediately reply that he didn't. However, there was a part of him hidden deep down in the far recesses of his mind, that would sometimes wonder about such things. It would usually happen late at night as he would stare at the ceiling in the dark waiting to fall asleep, or even as the shadow of a quickly forgotten dream when he woke up in the mornings. Mostly it was always him trying to visualize his parents' faces...
But, Howl reminded himself with a firm shake of his head, that was dangerous territory. The present was better...it was safer...it was all that mattered.
"I miss it sometimes," he said absently, refocusing on Trace's face and their discussion, "I would think about other places to occupy myself in the alleyway. I would sometimes steal brochures from this travel agency in town when I was little so I could stare at the pictures." He smiled faintly at the memory.
There was something provocative and beautiful about Trace, and more specifically in this moment about the way knowing so little about here didn't make Howl feel any less connected to her. He wanted to know anything and everything she chose to share with him but he also wasn't anxious to discover her secrets. He was patient enough to let her tell him only as much as she wanted and when she wanted.
"It sounds like you've done a fair bit of traveling," he continued with as casual an air as possible, "Why don't you tell me about some of your favorite places you've seen?" He still felt determined to keep Trace talking for as he possibly could, though he knew his next task almost surely had to be to get her to eat.
-----
One of the hardest things that Symphony had ever done in her life was telling her mother that she no longer wanted to be a part of the family if it meant denying an entire half of her heritage. There had been a huge fight, and her grandparents had done a lot of yelling, but the worst had been the look on her mother's face. It spoke of deep despair, but also understanding and sympathy, and it was that expression that stayed with her through all the years since she'd been shunned and disowned.
It was in this moment, standing in the room with Spirit and her grandmother, that Symphony thought she saw the same look pass over Nana Jones's face. Despair and understanding...
"Your manners're fine," she told Spirit, scratching the side of her nose just to do something with her hands, "We don't hold out false hope in this house, though. Only thing you can depend on is faith and family. Tha's what Nana always says anyway." She reached out a hand and tenderly smoothed a lock of her grandmother's silver hair back over her head.
Her words were true, but in Symphony's heart she could not fully stifle the bright streak of hope which arced through her body. Nana's illness had started as a slow onset, and then as the doctor's like to put it, it went into high gear just as they were starting to try treatment options. By the time her organs had begun deteriorating, there was very little that could be done, at least nothing she didn't require large sums of money. The family had contented themselves with being able to have here at home with them to live out the rest of her life, made possible by Yvonne's nursing degree.
"Anyways," she said, giving her grandmother's hand a last squeeze, "We better be gettin' gone. I don't want them ones that jumped me finding this place while we still here." She left the room, not sparing Spirit so much as a glance, moving with purpose into the neighboring room where her meager belongings were kept.
It took a matter of a few minutes to gather the most important items into a small duffel bag and then Symphony was back out in the hallway again. She didn't need to go back into her grandmother's room, worried that seeing her lying there like that would shake her resolve about leaving. Instead, she hurried into the kitchen, scribbling a lousy note which explained nothing for her cousin to find when she awoke. Thankfully, Yvonne slept like the dead when she was off duty unless she heard Nana's buzzer.
"Ready," she called down the hall to Spirit, taking one last look around this place that had been her home before repeating much more softly, "I'm ready..."
Creativity
Level 72
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Posts: 5,902
Posted: 12/27/2018 at 10:38 AM
Post #255
To say that Trace had done a "fair bit of travelling" would be one of the biggest understatements she'd ever heard. Her bounty hunter slash assassin job prior to being taken to this island had sent her all over the world. She had been to Asia, to France and Germany, Switzerland, Chile, Venezuela, El Salvador, Honduras, all throughout Africa, Iran, Iraq, and more. Countries that your average person hadn't even heard of.
Granted, not every country had memories of factories and losing parts of herself. Some of them, she got involved in no violence at all within. Sometimes, her bounty would come easily. Sometimes, her target would have moved.
While she hated violence, she couldn't help but love it. It went against every moral she was raised on, everything she learned in Temple. But... It released something within her, something primal and chaotic and sometimes, utterly terrifying, even to her. She had power. For all the times people had had power over her, when she fought, she had a power of her own.
"My favorite place..." she considered the question quietly. It was difficult, but when she thought about it, it was perhaps the easiest question she'd ever heard. "Paris."
She looked away. "It's a little cliche, I know. But... There's something in the lighting there, I think. It's just bloody gorgeous. My husband and I, we went on our honeymoon there. No... No work assignments I had to do. No obligations. It was just Erik and I. He told me that's how it'd always be. Just him and I."
In spite of herself, she had begun smiling softly, and cursed herself for being so dumb and romantic. She also cursed herself for revealing so much, but... Well, he had asked a triggering question, and she couldn't hold back.
-
Her whole life, people had automatically assumed Spirit to be some kind of loner. And, if she were to be truthful to herself, she kind of was. In spite of growing up with five older brothers, finding family in the military, in places she had never expected it, she was still sort of a loner. Mostly in the fact of being so self-sacrificial that she often didn't want to interact and form connections. If she had been a split second quicker, if she had seen just a second faster, she would have leaped onto that mine with her full body before her brother could step on it.
Yes, family was something that was very important to her, too. Family had this awful tendency of seeking her out. There was an unspoken, unbearable pain she faced every day, though, when she thought of her brothers. Of Hilmar, who, due to a drunk driver, didn't get to live to see his children advance as far as they have. He didn't even get to see Jojo learn to walk, or hear his first words. She thought of Runar, who didn't live very long past his eighteenth birthday, due to a war they fought that was not a war meant for them.
If she could go back in time, convince Runar not to join the volunteers for Iceland's ally's war, she would. She had tried it then, but she'd do better this time. She'd remind him about their parents - poor farmers in the outskirts of their country. How would they feel about their choice? She knew how they felt now. They blamed her, somewhat. Not fully, and they never said it, but she heard it. 'You should have stopped him. Why didn't you stop him?'
She was quiet for a long while, thinking back on family, on what it meant. On how much of hers she had lost by the age of twenty-seven. "Faith and family, huh? I've got a family. Perhaps a little faith is what you need," she smiled softly, before heading back out through the house when Cyber said she was ready.
As they reached the sunlight again, though, Spirit glanced at Kraftaverk, and saw that Michael's Ability had worn off, and her familiar had visibly turned back into his old tasmanian tiger self. She hissed in initial reaction, quickly shuffling him over to where the truck was parked. "Krafty, get out of sight," she told him quickly and wasted no time in opening the back door so he could hop in with a whine.
Edited By Creativity on 12/27/2018 at 12:00 PM.
Britters
Level 72
The Eggstraordinaire
Joined: 8/25/2014
Threads: 167
Posts: 2,041
Posted: 12/28/2018 at 7:48 PM
Post #256
For a brief moment, Howl's mind wandered and he saw his old friend Chap's face. He wondered what his mentor would have to say about this situation that he had found himself in. With a soft, faraway smile, he could almost hear the crotchety old man's voice as clearly as though he had just seen him yesterday...You could have all the food and riches in the world, but if you ain't got your freedom then you ain't living; we're free, son...He thought that it was almost comical that, when it came down to it, that Trace was very much like Chap had been.
As soon as Howl gave Trace his full attention once more, he saw the soft smile on her face and his heart thumped painfully in his chest. For just a few seconds he forgot to breathe, but it didn't even seem that important to him. All he could think about were the things he would be willing to do just so he could always see her smiling. He knew he was staring, but he couldn't even bring himself to stop, as though he wasn't full in control of himself anymore. He attempted to clear his throat rather roughly to try and get his senses about him.
"Paris, yes," he said with a strained voice, a distinct husky undertone present, "I remember that being one of my favorites in the brochures. I remember always thinking that a real place could never be as beautiful as that. I try not to think about such things, but if it were possible I would truly love to see it in person one day."
In the back of his mind, Howl was aware he felt something when she spoke of her husband, but he was not willing to give the feeling a name yet. For the moment, he chose to only feel grateful that he had been able to get Trace talking, that she was slowly starting to seem calmer and less on edge. He wondered if Kutta would have been proud of him at all, but almost as soon as the thought crossed his mind he imagined her ornery voice sounding in his head...
No, you're still an idiot.
"So," he said brightly, grinning broadly, "You ready to eat yet?"
-----
Cyber
Creativity
Level 72
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Threads: 255
Posts: 5,902
Posted: 12/29/2018 at 12:20 AM
Post #257
To say that the past couple of weeks had been eventful would be quite the understatement, Wire thought to herself as she organized papers in her room. The papers themselves contained writing on them - some of Tox's old notes on certain well-known people in the compound. Although she couldn't decipher any of the writing, Wire was able to recognize like strings of letters to be related when in the title, and sort the papers by person that way.
At least, she hoped the strings of letters were names, but it was hard to tell. Maybe she was horribly mixing up the papers by sorting all of them that contained the word "able" or "has" into one pile. She wouldn't know without some help.
A few days ago, one of the people in the compound had approached her about the chore list. On the spot, she had made something up for him to do. She had created her own chore list, then, in her mind, and when people would come up to her to collect their chores, she'd give the chores to them. It was as if the members of the compound were used to the old system, and almost relieved to be slowly slipping back into it.
She'd had some brief concerns about whether or not the compound would accept her as a pseudo-leader while Tox was battling his own chaos, but she was pleasantly surprised when they seemed to even be seeking out a pseudo-leader. She was more than happy to step up.
But, back to the chore list. She knew what everyone would do - she had memorized it all. But... Well, there were complaints about wanting an actual posted list. And that's what brought Wire out of her room, out of the dorm building, and over, floatingly, to the infirmary building, where she knew Reach was.
She and her old friend had hardly talked much over the past couple weeks, and it was killing Wire inside. She couldn't help but feel as if it was her fault. Things like this, bad things, they were always her fault, weren't they?
With a heavy heart and sandpaper throat, she entered the building, which had been much less busy recently. "Hey." That's all she said once she found the light-haired girl with the sweet voice, buried deep inside the work of running the medical place.
-
Somewhere deep inside the mess that was forming her mind right now, Trace knew that Howl had a point. She probably should eat. But, she was upset. She hated her situation, and she wanted to fight it. Only, there was no soft enemy to punch here except herself. After all, it was her own stupidity and lack of caution that got them into this situation to begin with, wasn't it? And besides that, her chest was still aching, though she had been somewhat distracted from it with the conversation. It was still there, and she was still struggling to find the fight within her.
It's hard to find the fight within oneself when the only person that one can fight is oneself. There's no winning in that scenario.
"How are ya doing it, Howl?" she suddenly asked, not responding to his question. "How are ya so calm about this? These people... These are not good people. This place, the organization in control of it. They treat people like subjects. Like animals. Like we don't live and breathe, just like them. How can that not bug ya, mate? The mongrels here are no better than us, but they have the power. How can that not bug ya?"
The friendly term of endearment native to the beautiful country she was raised in had slipped out on accident, but Trace wouldn't take it back. After all, certain things, people go through, and they can't not develop a sort of bond throughout it. And since Howl had helped her before, and he didn't seem angry at all at her, she figured it was not a hostile bond they had.
"You know what I need, Howl?" she suddenly flashed him a bitter smile. "I need to get legless off 'a stubbies."
Britters
Level 72
The Eggstraordinaire
Joined: 8/25/2014
Threads: 167
Posts: 2,041
Posted: 12/30/2018 at 3:31 AM
Post #258
With a resolute sigh, Reach leaned back and took her glasses off wearily. She pinched the bridge of her nose, and closed her eyes against the pain. There was no telling quite how long she had been staring at the many papers which littered her desk, but she was certainly getting a migraine. She rubbed her sore wrist absently with her other hand. It seemed like a great many parts of her body ached and pained her, but she was determined to finish what she'd started. Well, no time like the present...
An angry squawk interrupted her as she had begun to lean forward again.
"Mr. Darcy!" she shouted irritably, glaring at her owl companion who was perched upon a chair in the corner, "I do not like your tone, and if you're restless the window is open." She gave her avian friend a hard stare, and got only a frustrated ruffling of feathers.
In the back of her mind, Reach knew her familiar was doing his best to look out for her. She had spent the last several days entirely overworking herself. Partly it was because she was very passionate about her idea to start keeping comprehensive notes about the medical needs and histories of those that lived in the compound, but she knew it also had to do with Wire. If she kept herself so busy here in the infirmary then she didn't have to face her friend, or the looks of hurt and confusion that the dark-skinned woman kept giving her.
I just need things to make more sense first, Reach thought to herself as she picked her pen back up and began writing once more. It was what she kept telling herself when she felt like she wouldn't be able to bare Wire's expressions any longer, but it was starting to become less and less effective. Being in her friend's presence was painful these days, and...but then, as though just thinking about Wire manifested her, the dark-skinned woman came walking through the door.
"Hello," she said, her voice not quite as casual as she would have liked, "Can I help you with something?" As soon as the words left her mouth she hated herself for them. They were clinical and professional, not the warm and inviting words one says to someone they care about.
-----
While Trace seemed occupied for the moment with her own thoughts, Howl took the opportunity to stare at her with open infatuation. The sharpness of her face, the curve of her lips, her warm brown eyes framed by dark lashes. He knew he could spend forever mapping her features in his mind, but what felt like hours were in reality a few short seconds and then the spell was broken as she spoke to him again. He wondered briefly if he might be able to catch a glimpse of her sleeping layer tonight, though he was pretty sure if Kutta were here she'd call him a creeper.
"Hm?" he inquired at her, his mind needing a moment to actually process what Trace had said to him, "Oh, well...I don't know." He thought about the question, rolled around in his brain. "I guess it does bug me, but I've always felt like my energy is better off being used for considering my options rather than getting angry about stuff I can't change." He spoke casually, inwardly hoping his answer didn't set her off...and yet also hoping it would.
If Howl was being honest, he was very bugged about the situation they were both in here, but he knew that even if he were the type of person to get wildly upset he would still try and remain calm for Trace's sake. The scientists hadn't outright killed them, so good money was on the chance they would be released back into the main compound once they were sure the two of them weren't infected with whatevrr had come o out of that case. Other possibility was that they were being studied and would be disposed of when they were done, and either way that weren't going to come to harm right away.
"Yeah," he said to Trace, a lopsided grin on his face, "I still have no idea what you're saying most of the time." He wished there had been a brochure on Australian slang at the travel agencies when he was a kid...
Edited By Britters on 12/31/2018 at 12:17 AM.
Creativity
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Threads: 255
Posts: 5,902
Posted: 12/31/2018 at 3:09 PM
Post #259
Since she had been taken into the compound with her group, Reach had been the only friend that Wire had really made. She wasn't necessarily good at making friends. She made acquaintances, but it was hard for her to connect with someone enough to consider the both of them 'friends'. Growing up, she hadn't really had any friends, due mostly to the control her brother had over her younger years. Since then, she had pretty much started keeping people at a slight distance, without really realizing it at first. She supposed she wanted to protect herself from further manipulation, and this way that Reach seems to have cast her aside was plenty proof as to why that should be necessary.
She became irritated at the intended-formal way in which Reach spoke to her, and Little Mbali ruffled her wings uncomfortably on her shoulder. Wire took a small step forward, feeling a small surge of anger within her. This was not right. Reach can't be a bad person, she had told herself, but what type of good person abandons a friend just after she recovers from a near-death experience.
"Since you seem to have driven everyone away, in your own self-absorbed manipulation, I hate to admit this, but I am no fool, unlike some people," her own words had become clipped in her anger, staccato and bubbling. Her pain didn't show through her words this time, though.
From having spent time in here before, when she would try to bug Reach to come spend time and take a break, Wire knew a general layout of how Reach organized the office area. She approached a cabinet briskly and removed from it a blank piece of paper. The paper was placed on Reach's desk, and then a pen was extracted from another drawer. Wire leaned back against the wall beside the door now, not wanting to get any closer to Reach for fear her entire resolve about her manipulative fr-...Ex-friend...would fall.
"I need you to write the chore list for me. I have all the information. I just require someone to write it." She suddenly smiled, but it was bitter and lacking warmth. "Since you asked me if you could help me with anything, you know."
-
"That's probably for the best, actually," Trace grinned at his comment on her dialect. "I tend to be rather vulgar when I speak, but most people don't know when I am because I deftly conceal it in terms they don't recognize."
This wasn't entirely true. She was vulgar, yes, but the truth was that most Aussie slang in general was vulgar, and her grin became playful to make him more aware of this fact.
If anything, the conversation was helping to distract her from the current situation both she and Howl were in. This room wasn't quite the same as the dorms given to them on the rest of the island - these ones were a little smaller, more confined, more cell-like. It disturbed her more than she was really willing to admit, but she knew that she'd end up sleeping on the couch, if she slept at all. There was a style that Mantis preferred for many things, but she had been surprised by how different their rooms in the compound were.
This room, however, fit Mantis' 'prison' style nearly perfectly. It was simple, and plain, with a faint antiseptic smell that was mixed in with the smell of sweat. All it was missing was the smell of broken dreams and pain, but she figured this place wasn't occupied enough for those to be wholly present.
"But what if you could change it?" she asked him after a while. "What if you had the power to change a situation, but you didn't know it? What if, because you felt you had no power over a situation, you never did anything, and if you had done something, you would have succeeded? I guarantee you, Howl, the individual is more powerful than many think."
-
He had gotten on the boat, and when he chose to go on the boat (for that's what he assumed it was from the little knowledge he had been able to read), he had tried out just about every option he could see before hand. Getting into a car had given him a negative outcome. Going into a building had done the same. Approaching people was often both good and bad, and he wouldn't take the risk as to whether one would outweigh the other.
And so, he had gotten on the boat, passing by security or anyone who would try to stop him, because this was the only option he had tried with a fully positive outcome, and he only wanted the positive outcome.
He hadn't done it, and he knew it. He knew he hadn't done it. Why had they drank the laced water? He hadn't told them to do it, and as he paced across the deck of the boat, now a couple miles out from the shoreline of the only country he had ever known, he couldn't seem to figure anything out.
His hands itched at his sides, and at one point, he accidentally brushed a chair with his right hand. Feeling unbalanced and irked by the feeling of the cold metal of the chair that now lingered in his right hand, he had to turn around the brush the same part of the chair with his left hand. He had to. The feeling would have to be replicated on both sides, or else he would become unbalanced and asymmetrical.
He didn't know where he was going, or why. All he knew was that he hadn't told them to do it.
Edited By Creativity on 12/31/2018 at 3:15 PM.
Britters
Level 72
The Eggstraordinaire
Joined: 8/25/2014
Threads: 167
Posts: 2,041
Posted: 1/2/2019 at 12:57 AM
Post #260
It was painfully obvious to Reach that, base on Wire's body language and facial expressions, she was going to pay dearly for her words. She wished so fervently to be able to take them back, but she was all too familiar with the past and she knew it could not be changed. Everything felt it was it was tumbling down around her, burying her alive. As she stared back at Wire, trying to figure out what to say, she was struck with the sudden memory of a very old nursery rhyme she could remember her mother singing to her and her sister.
London bridge is falling down,
Falling down, falling down...
"I see," she said to Wire, in a voice that she tried to keep under careful control, taking her glasses off again for the moment, "I'm sure you're probably right." This late bit was murmured very softly, and she almost hoped Wire couldn't hear her, but what bloody difference did it make now?
With a heavy sigh, and without consideration to the fact that Wire was still standing there, Reach leaned forward to rest her elbow on the desk and then put her head against the back of her wrist. She couldn't believe how quickly things had gone downhill since Wire had been sick. All she had wanted was more time to understand what she had seen, to make sure that she wasn't going to ruin that future, but she should have known better. She had tried before to change the future during another of the rare glimpses she had sometimes, and she had made it worse then, too. She had been so stupid to think this would be any different.
"Wire, I...," she began, looking up at Wire intensely, the words that might turn back time right on the tip of her tongue...but something stopped here, because of that look on Wire's face and the almost certain chance that her friend would never forgive her regardless, "Of course I can. I'm always happy to help." She stuck her glasses back on, took the paper and pencil from Wire and began to write. She would not make a fool of herself...no matter how much it might hurt.
London bridge is falling down,
My fair lady
-----
If Tox was being honest with himself, the last few days had been rather odd. Oh, they'd been some of the best days of his entire life, but happiness was so foreign to him. Being with Brain was something he had fought so hard against, because he was sure it would the undoing of both of them, and yet here they were. He had let himself give in to it all, let himself feel his full emotions regarding her, and he had no regrets. He would do it all again if he were given the chance. He would always choose Brain, no matter what he was afraid of, because together they were stronger.
"Good morning, my darling," he said brightly, a charming smirky smile on his face as he sat down across from Brain at her usual table and slid her a plate of food, "Brought you breakfast, and eat up because we've got a busy day." He laid into his own plate of eggs and sausages with gusto, enjoying his meal in a way he hadn't in a very long time.
Everything felt like a new experience now, as though a massive weight had been taken from Tox's shoulders. Things weren't perfect, there were still feelings on both sides that were left over from their ordeal, but they would deal with those things in time. Meanwhile, he was going to enjoy being happy, and enjoy being with Brain and that was all that he cared about. It didn't matter that they were still stuck at the compound, being kept prisoner for scientists and doctors that wanted to study them, because in the end they had each other and that would always make things more bearable.
"I want you to come with me to talk to Wire," he started saying between bites, glancing up at Brain while he ate, "I need to talk to her about how things have been going, and maybe even talk to her about assisting me permanently. Also, I'm sure she'll be with Reach and you can talk to her about the infirmary stuff." He grinned at her, feeling as thought he might actually float out of his chair he was so filled with positive emotions. He started to wonder for a moment if he should maybe talk to Reach about whether or not it was healthy.
Edited By Britters on 1/2/2019 at 1:42 AM.
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