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Hikaro, Sibling

A colorless photo of Dian, A'Hallei's guardian

Haku, sibling, a boy now inexplicably intrigued by the inner workings of A'Hallei's mind

Raissen, sibling. Mildly disturbed by A'Hallei

Teak, part time bodyguard.

Please note: the members listed as siblings are siblings by adoption, not blood. A'Hallei's only known blood relative is Samsara, another odd child drastically different in appearance, aside from the neon green eyes and glowing markings both posess.

He has an unusual preoccupation with all sorts of plated armor. Every time we visit the forge, there is another piece of armor added to his collection. sweatdrop



A scene from the mind of a madman...err...boy

RESERVED

There is a place covered with black iron, hot and full of soot and sweat. I'd think it was hell, but the people there don't seem to be suffering. There are hot bars they bang on again and again and again until it flattens. Sparks flew from the bars when they were struck; Fireflies wizzing free of their orange bar prison.

I'm picking another ring of skin from my finger when the same adult type stills my hands. I slap his away, he doesn't deserve to own me! I was yelling at him when a coil of grey caught my eye. In a box were thousands and thousands of slate grey rings, all broken in one point.

How sad!

I took one and fixed it. Another fixed, another and another. A sense of peace came about me as I fixed the rings, until I realized that every time I fixed one, it clung to the one I fixed, and I had a string of fixed circles. But, they looked nice, so I kept fixing the rings, watching each hug each other.

The adult type obtained the tools he came to this place to find, and tried to get me to follow him, but I wouldn't leave without finishing fixing the links, so the adult type gave me a smaller box filled with the broken circles and we left, the adult type opening and closing his mouth the whole time.

I was happy to return to the house, although I left the door open, and the fog from my room has spread to the rest of the house. No one else seems to notice but me, maybe they're used to it.

The whole night was spent fixing the rest of the rings until I had a sizeable sheet I could hardly lift.

I stuck it onto the door.

Don't know why I did, but the adult type took much longer to come into the room to bring me out for food. The look on his face was so strange when he opened the door and stood face to face with a spiderweb of circles. I laughed until I hurt. For a moment, a bare moment, I owned him. He got free when he pushed down the sheet and it fell with a loud rattle.

I want to see what else I can keep out with the circles.

The almost adult type with red hair does not like me. He's aware of my movements, and knows when I'm trying to own him. I tried last night, and he awoke, screaming, and threw a pillow at me, but ended up just tossing the little red bird across the room. He had shackles on his arms too- I could see them. Just- they were in his brain, not real. To fully posess someone you must immobilize them.

At the hellhole the adult type has labeled a Forge, I have made my first defense against the figures. I have taken the adult type's black leather belt, and shortened it to fit my neck. While he was not watching with the yellow eyes, I fashioned spikes by cutting twisted fireplace pokers and slamming them thin. I pressed them into the belt, so now the belt is a sturdy collar, too tight to fall off, spikes too sharp to grab. I put it on, now the things cannot choke the life from me. For now, I am safe. The buckle is behind my neck, hidden under my hair.

The adult type dissapproves, but cannot bring himself near enough to try and take it from me. This also keeps him from pinching my neck to freeze my soul. He can do that. There is a spot where my soul touches the surface of my body, right at the back of my neck. If it is pinched and held, my soul freezes stiff, and I cannot move. Defense.

The adult type also gave me more broken circles, so I will not pick at my fingers anymore, which are now completely wrapped in bandages. The bandages are ugly! I try to remove them as often as I can, but the adult type stops me. Maybe if I cover them, they will not look at me anymore.

Sometimes when I sit alone, and have tired of fixing the circles, I grab the tops of my ears and pull up on them. The skin has stretched a little, sticks up. Don't know why I do this, but it makes me feel better, as though it opens my eyes, and I can see for miles ahead, I can see more. The figures don't dare come close when my eyes are open. Maybe if I sleep like this, the figures will not draw close. Another defense. They will not own me, I will be free.

Ultimate violation, ultimate violation! INVASION! The foul red head near adult type was given commands to strip me down and douse me with water. Of course, no one has qualms about anything such as privacy, or maybe that I didn't want to be viewed in my skin by anyone else!

No amount of my protest stopped his onslaught, and I am now convinced the white fog is not concealing at all. I tried to hide in it, close my eyes, remain perfectly still, a rabbit in the snow, but he just grabbed me and BAM! The soul pinch.
Next thing I know we are in the white tiled room, and he is attempting to remove my snack sheet dress.

Fighting and clawing does nothing against him, he is much too strong, much too strong. His arms are corded steel and pistons. Dress rips, falls away, someone shrieks. It sounds like a monkey, but I know no monkies to live in the house.

World goes black again. I can feel a submergance into warm liguid. I feel as though I have fallen into a pond of standing water heated by the sun. Or rather, a reminiscent dream of my time in the water bubble with mine better half. It should be comforting, but I cannot breathe, I am submerged, I cannot breath!

The world explodes into color run red with the blood in my eyes. In my sleep, I had fallen under the water. The red headed one didn't even try to hold me up. Coughing sputtering snarling biting, a shark sprays water all over the tiled room.
Bubbles float over the surface of the water, riding the waves. Darkness.

The ocean has calmed, the air has cooled, and something is rubbing against me.
There is a scent of honey and lavender, as well as lunch on the stove. Sitting up, I am aware of being dressed in a black swimsuit, shiny and sleek. Next to me on the bed are large shorts with a drawstring. They are also black, but the trim and the string is green, like my eyes. I am so short, they fall to my shins. The red one's shorts are much smaller. Again my hair is braided, but it is quickly undone.

On goes the collar, and the halfshirt I have made of the circles the adult type has repeadedly called chain mail. As I also put on the segmented gauntlets, I note with dismay someone has blunted the claw tips. My collar too, has been blunted. Fixing them is not on my mind, the next trip to the forge will produce a plated fauld to cover this revolting pair of shorts. Sleeves might also join the chainmail shirt, but That might make it too heavy.

Once I am fully armored, never again will this travesty have to be endured.

A'Hallei sat still, as usual, staring intensely at the floor. It was hard to tell if he was staring at the floor, counting the strands in the wood, or staring through it, gaze boring out the other side of the earth, lost among the cosmic debris of space. His hands were clenched tightly, together, as though bound by a heavy chain. Shoulders curled in, legs tucked underneath him, still, A'Hallei sat. How long he had sat without moving no one would know. It could have been thirty seconds, maybe ten hours, no one knew. The last time Dian knew, was when he pulled the boy out to eat dinner. A'Hallei ate very little, despite how long he sat with the food, despite what food it was.

A light tapping came at his door. Nothing in the room stirred save for the silent gust of air that emerged from A'Hallei's nose. The boy didn't even blink, didn't twitch, nothing. Undetected, his pulse continued on, fluttering rapidly.
The tap came again, before the door creaked open, a familiar orange haired head peeking in.

Dian saw A'Hallei and sighed. Catzi told him to talk to the boy as though he were a coma patient, but to not pressure for anything. Opening the door with his shoulder, Dian walked in, a box heavy with steel links in his hands. The kid could make chainmail like it was no problem, and indeed had already made several sheets of mail. The boys at the forge could cut and join the pieces to make shirts, and other armor for the customers, many of whom were regular patrons of the Renaissance faire. A'Hallei never seemed to miss them, and still had one full sheet up on his wall. It hung like a steel cobweb, or fisherman's net. Dian approached quietly, sitting on the corner of the bed, setting the box of rings beside him. A'Hallei still made no acknowlegement the other existed.

"I brought these for you, I know how much you like them..." Dian began, now beginning his own staring contest with the floor. What does one say to a boy who'd never uttered a sound save for anguished screams?
"You know, the whole purpose of your being here, is for improvement. That's why you have your own room, and I take you into work, and the reasons we have medications for you. If you show improvement, I'm sure the doctors will understand if we relax some of the rules." He continued.

It was rather apparent Dian was more speaking to himself, trying to justify his own actions. Catzi had told him that the best way was through logic, and though he'd sworn never to listen to his charge's twin, the words struck him deep. Dian always prided himself on his open mindedness to alternate lifestyles than his own, with the only exceptions being those that caused harm, especially to those who were too young, or did not know any better. A glance told Dian that the boy still hadn't moved.

"I have no idea what is going on behind those big green eyes of yours..." He said quietly, looking to A'Hallei. Did the kid hear what he was saying?
"Caleb?" A pause, no response.
"...Caleb?" He asked again, more hesitant than before. Dian was holding his breath, but wasn't quite sure why. He guessed, maybe they should start fresh, anew, none of this patient guardian stuff. Perhaps that was one of the obsticals holding his mind back, he was still in the hospital mentality.
"Hello. My name is Dian Chegrin, what is your name?"

It was total whimsy. The nurse at the mansion told Dian that the boy's name was Caleb when he started to sign the paperwork to take him home. It never occured to Dian to ask his name. Yet, that what most people do when meeting someone new, right? A slow blink, and A'Hallei's glowstick green eyes shifted, sliding up to meet Dian's honey golden ones. That was a suprise. Dian was caught off guard, didn't think the kid would make any response at all. Maybe it's cause he was tuning Dian's nagging out, knowing that if he made no move for long enough, he would eventually leave. Usually it worked, Dian thought he might have well had been lecturing a wall on why it's good to eat food.

"Can you tell me what your name is?" He asked again, a little more eagerly. There was no further move from the milkwhite child. Seconds passed into minutes, minutes into an hour, both just looking at one another, wildly differing thoughts passing through each of their heads.

The day was drawing on, and Dian still had work to do. No pressure. Standing, he stretched out, pops ringing up his spine. Walking to the door, he stopped and cast one last glance at the boy, who's luminous green eyes still followed him across the room. Offering a kind smile, he left the room, closing the door quietly behind him. Just as the click signaled the bolt had slid into place, a whisper quiet word escaped the boy's normally silent lips,
"A'Hallei."