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 Posted: Thu Oct 23, 2008 4:15 pm
Escape, at last.
There had been a heavy feeling centered within Mortimer's chest for as long as he could remember. The grief, the lack of forgiveness, the trap. Though the anger remained, Mortimer felt undoubtedly better than he ever had before. There was a sense of solidity and hope somewhere within his twisted mind. The thoughtful dreams of revenge were bitter-sweet, but he took them to heart with an idle hope that what had come to him, would eventually come around.
It had been weeks since his episode with the man responsible for placing him with Simon. His little toy gun had held no bearing as a fear-wielding device. In fact, it must have been laughable, and, in the aftermath, Mortimer wasn't sure why he had done what he had in the first place. Shooting Archie wouldn't have brought Amelia back, nor would it have driven the traitors on his home planet to the depths of torment. It would not have fixed Simon, and it would not have fixed him either. An act of anger. That was all it had been - and as the sun shone in the sky, Mortimer had grown to contemplate whether or not it was such a bad thing that he was where he was, waltzing about, surrounded by weird, foreign aliens with flapping jaws and two legs; even he had two legs.
The lake was alive with the colors of autumn, nevertheless, and Mortimer was alive as well. The slow process of healing had lead to a greater sense of independence, and he had taken to a new hobby to make the matters easier. Every afternoon, he would escape Simon's house and go to the lake with a bag of apples, and there he would make use of his begotten tail. The long thing was thick. It was powerful, and, with the proper swing, and a little balance, he could smash the apples into trees as if he were a walking catapult. It was an amusing little game, and Mortimer was confident he would find use in it eventually. Even if he never found use in it, the game was a way to relieve the tensions and stress of old memories.
Thus, he stood with an apple in his hand. In an attentive manner, he observed it, polishing it, brushing it off on his long coat as if it were a lucky bullet. As the leaves tumbled down from the trees by the lake, he threw the apple. His tail had snapped into place - and another fruit met a gruesome execution.
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Posted: Thu Oct 23, 2008 6:17 pm
It was autumn, and the Trapt family found that nothing indoors could possibly contain the excitement and boundless energy of their smallest member. And so today it was deemed Garrett's turn to entertain the insatiable toddler. Being the outdoorsy type himself, he coaxed his little sister into visiting the lakeside; even if it was a little chillier by the water, Garrett is a bird boy with the desire to just escape from it all.
And with all the pretty colours and wonderful wildlife around, Elly raises no complaints to this suggestion.
"Do do dooo do dooo," toots the slightly bruised little girl, running unevenly through the crunchy fallen leaves, her hands grazing the taller grass. She wears an impossibly large smile in between two flailing pigtails, and behind her a pink ribbon waves wildly from the tip of her lioness-esque tail.
Garrett is only mildly worried when his sister disappears from sight; he can still hear her singing, and occasionally catches the glimpse of something pink moving in the corner of his eye. He comes to rest on the low branch of a tree, his rapidly growing wings folding up against his back as he comes into a comfortable crouch. Her singing has stopped, and he experiences a moment of slight panic. There she is, sitting down in the leaves, coaxing a squirrel into her lap. He smiles slightly and relaxes where he perches, leaving her be for the time being.
The squirrel hops into Elly's skirt and she giggles loudly, scooping up the creature and hugging it, to its bewilderment. "You're all squirmy~!" she observes with wide, bright eyes, and rubs it against her chin. Being that her hearing is very limited - her ears are blunt and round, accommodating a poor radius for hearing - she doesn't hear when Mortimer's latest victim explodes nearby.
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Posted: Thu Oct 23, 2008 8:45 pm
Mortimer had observed the somewhat distant tree with a stern look on his face. There was no way to measure how exact the hit had been, but it appeared as if it had been good enough to scatter the pieces that had not encountered the impact. It was satisfactory, nevertheless, and in that systematic fashion, Mortimer had reached for another apple without much care.
His slender fingers had held the thing with a firm grip as he held it out in front of him, squinting carefully with the dedication of a jeweler. But like any outlaw, Mortimer was keen, and the prickling sensation of company had never vanished from his veins. As soon as he had dropped the apple to swing his tail once more, something in the distance had caught his eye. He had missed the target, and the apple had simply touched the ground. Desperately, it had rolled beyond his shaggy legs and dark hooves, escaping to the security of the grass.
Mortimer had stood straight. His shoulders had hunched as he stretched his neck in a vain attempt to gather a better view of whatever it was that had captured his attention. He could certain hear noise, and that was enough to draw him away from the morbid games he had invented.
"Mm." The noise had escaped his throat as he lifted his cork gun from his pocket. Certainly, he was no fool, and he knew, if there were danger of any sort, it would do him no good. Even so, it was a precaution - and somewhere within his mind he hoped it would prove frightening enough. His fingers had capped the gun with the cork, the little wire dangling as he took long stride. Each step seemed to imprint the ground, creating an unavoidable 'thud'.
Before long, he had reached the tree, and from there, he had simply pointed the little cork gun, searching anxiously until ... There was a visual answer to his mind's inquisition. a little girl was squeezing some animal; he supposed he should have figured there would be visitors. After all, no place was perfectly solitary - except for Simon's study. But the books were only so interesting, and Mortimer was a rigid boy.
"Squirrels are dangerous; don't you know they carry diseases?" Mortimer had asked. His tail had pounded against the ground, the fuzzy tip flicking like a pendulum. A little girl? So much for danger! At least he had caught sight of her before shooting another apple. He could only imagine if he'd hit her - and he had no real intention of ever hitting anyone with an apple. Not unless they deserved it.
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Posted: Thu Oct 23, 2008 8:59 pm
"Mm?" Elegy looks up and loosens her grip on the squirrel, and to its delight it is able to escape. The girl looks temporarily distraught at the loss of her furry company, but turns back to Mortimer and tilts her head, instead.
"They're not dangerous!" she proclaims with a toothy smile, pushing her palms on the ground to begin to bring herself to her feet again. Her bandaged knees are speckled with dirt, which she brushes off mid-squat. She doesn't notice the same is true of her bandaged elbows, and instead skips merrily over to her new playmate's side.
Humming a made up tune, she very blatantly looks Mort up and down, admiring his legs and his gun and his horns. Last of all she notices his tail, and to that, she squeals. She dashes around him and almost touches it, her hand lingering over the curve of it and following it down without making contact. Her mother's lessons on personal space are finally beginning to bear weight. She sucks in her break and looks way up at Mortimer with an impressed smile.
"You look like.. cow-polk!" she exclaims excitedly, practically vibrating on the spot. No, instead she's just shifting her weight from leg to leg really quickly. "But your, your tail's the BESTEST."
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Posted: Sat Oct 25, 2008 7:32 pm
Mortimer had situated his gun back to the confines of his coat's pocket. Still and balanced, he was a rather looming figure of symmetry, down to the angle of his jaw. He was a messy boy, though, and the slight breeze had been enough to toss his shaggy hair into a mess. Fortunately, it was never difficult to see, and with a horse-like shake of the head, the growing bangs and their problems seemed rectified.
He had made such a motion twice as he looked down over the girl, quirking a slight brow at the sight of her dismay as the wild animal scurried to its sanctuary. "They bite, don't they?" Mortimer had asked, a crooked grin set on his face as one of his hooves had stamped.
Something had twittered through his mind as he watched the little girl. Where was the adult? "Hey - Ah?" He had shifted in an uneasy matter, a sudden invasion of his personal space having thrown him off guard. Mortimer was a quirky young man, and, after all, he had been lodged within Simon's home since his arrival all that time ago. It seemed as if an eternity had passed, and being handled had never been a strong suit. "H-h-hey! What are you doing?" His tail had veered to the side, raising somewhat with its heavy force. It was a thick thing, perhaps even as thick as his fist in some places.
"Cow ... Cow-polk?" He had snorted. And suddenly he was laughing. The hat dangling over his back, the string wrapped about his neck. He had pulled the string, feeling as the hat jumped against the base of his head and a portion of his back. Cow-polk. "I ain't a cow-polk; I'm a ..." Outlaw? Was he an outlaw? Or was it a distant memory of the past. He brushed it off with a shake of his head, his hooves stamping in place once more as his tail raised in a loopish curve. He had then noticed. The little girl's was similar.
"You've got one too?" He had never seen someone with another tail like his! Of course, he had only ever met one being with a tail, and that girl had also had the body of a horse.
"Where're your parents, kid? You're not out here by yourself, are you?"
He was one to talk. As he stood, he looked no older than ten himself. He was lean, tall, but the youth in his face was a cancellation of the masquerade for authority and age.
Looking over his shoulders, he had seemed to puff out his cheeks. Then, he had made a motion. "You like apples?"
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Posted: Sat Oct 25, 2008 8:10 pm
Elly pulls her own tail to the underside of her elbow and strokes the soft puffy fur with a smile. "Mine!" she proclaims fondly, glancing between hers and his as if comparing. Every action the girl makes, though rather spontaneous, are also very obvious. She doesn't go through the trouble of hiding anything, or holding anything back, for that matter.
"Yours needs a bow," she decides solemnly, affirming it with a nod. Alas, she doesn't have any extra ribbon! She is suddenly very sad that she can't share the joys of ribbonhood with her new friend.. what is his name anyway?
She throws her arms around Mortimer's legs, having already forgotten what she's so carefully observed seconds earlier about personal space. "I'm Elly! I'm here with my brother! What, what's your name?" the girl coos, her tail slipping free to pivot in the wind. She giggles softly, looking waaay up at him with her arms up in the hug position.
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Posted: Fri Oct 31, 2008 2:20 pm
Outspoken children were a species Mortimer had never seen. It was perplexing, yet, there was something within the back of his mind that made him want to grin a little. Until she mentioned needing a bow. "Men don't need bows." He had declared with a somber statement himself. "We've got hats."
And with that statement, he had removed his cowboy hat from its position dangling against his back with the rope about his neck. He had held it up as if to prove the matter. His hat. Even if it never would fit properly, he wouldn't be caught without it. There was a bit of a coy smile plastered to his face, though it quickly turned to shock as his hooves stamped backwards. The little girl had just grabbed him, and his balance was rocking. Quickly, his tail had lashed, pounding against the ground as if trying to act as a stand. "H-hey! I'm gonna fall! Let go!"
His tail had hit the ground a few times before he had caught his balance, looking down at the girl in mild disbelief and disturbance. Whoever was raising her must have never discussed not touching people. He had heaved a large breath, giving a glance as if expecting to see her brother somewhere. "Your brother?"
He had stared at her with quirking brows, attempting to take a few steps backward to regain his space. Elly. So the girl's name was Elly? And his name was ... "An---" He had coughed, berating himself somewhat. "Mortimer. My name's Mortimer." Her giggling face and tiny stature. Looking down at her, Mortimer wasn't sure what he was to think of the predicament.
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Posted: Wed Nov 12, 2008 7:04 am
"Morty-mer!" Elly chimes, clasping her hands together enthusiastically. "Hi, hi Morty-mer!"
She brushes back her hair from her shoulders, not yet used to how the length tickles them, and pulls her tail up in front of her. The enormous bow rests against her wrists, and the fluffy part twitches here and there. She nuzzles her face into it and makes a contented noise.
Pulling her face out from her tail, she looks up at whom she deems as her newest best friend, and smiles once again. "What you doing out here, Morty-mer? Why you by yourself?"
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Posted: Tue Jan 06, 2009 9:25 am
Morty-mer!
Mortimer had stared with wide-eyes for a moment - but the enthusiasm seemed contagious. Elly wreaked sunshine; Mortimer smiled, though it was a crooked, awkward smile of sorts.
"Out here?" He had repeated the question somewhat stupidly before taking a few steps away. He had gone off for a moment, grabbing his bag of apples before returning. "Apple-smashing; it's good for aim. you hit it with your tail and hit a tree." He had explained. "Want to see?"
By himself! Ha! He had shifted a bit, pulling his hat up onto his head and fitting it in a skewed manner over his horns. "Ain't no one who wants to go smash apples, that's all." He hadn't particularly thought about it, but being asked by such a cheery little girl why he was alone made something stir. His tail had whipped up, quick, fluid, and controlled. "So I came by myself."
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Posted: Tue Jan 06, 2009 9:49 am
"OoooOOoh," the little girl coos, sitting down on the spot to observe. She pulls her own tail out from underneath her, staring at the fragile little thing to judge if she can try. As if to reject this idea, her tail wilts from beneath her fingers.
She lets go dismissively, and looks up at her company with shining blue eyes, eager and waiting. "Can you show me how to do it, Morty-mer? I want to smash apples, too!"
From up in his perch, Garrett winces, but holds himself back from interfering. Hopefully the boy has more sense than to let her try smacking an apple with her flimsy tail. He grips the thick branch with his talons, and ignores as an ant blindly crawls over one of them. He's ready to jump in there, if not.
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Posted: Tue Jan 06, 2009 10:10 am
"Sure, I can! It's not too hard. It's all ... About ..." His words had trailed off as he set the bag down and reached to grab one of the apples. His fingers had curled about it tightly as if it were a small baseball and he were a pitcher. "It's all about aim and focus. One eye on the apple, one eye on the target."
Mortimer had hummed for a moment in thought. It was like shooting. It was like any particular aim or skill someone with his expertise could help to expect, and that brought his mind to an earnest teaching. He lost himself in the talking. "Sometimes the target moves, so you have to move too; tree don't move." He had began. "You have to be quick, though. Always one step ahead."
Like that, he had given a flick of his wrist. The apple had leapt into the air as if it were shot out of a canon, though perhaps not as quick. It had twirled a moment, the red gleaming as it fell back down, and, in an instant, Mortimer's tail had sprang, looped, and smacked into the side of the apple, sending it off like a bullet until it had crashed into one of the trees and splattered a good-bye. It was history.
"Bullseye!" Mortimer had felt his heart race for a moment. It wasn't even anger. Without the anger, it almost seemed like a fun game. "And that's how you do it." He had looked down at Elly. He hadn't thought another moment, reaching to grab another apple to hold it out to her.
"Think you can do it?"
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Posted: Tue Jan 06, 2009 10:28 am
"Uhmm!" Elly lets out a musing noise before plucking the apple from Mortimer's hand. "Kay! Tree don't move, be quick!" she parrots in a chipper tone.
Garrett is on edge; literal edge. What if it hits her tail, and breaks it?! The internal bleeding would be too much for her tiny sister. He leans forward, held only by the talons digging into the flesh of the tree.
Elly things nothing of this game. If her friend can do it, she's sure she can, too! But there's this little thing called hand-eye coordination, and the toddler, it would seem, has none of that. She tosses the apple up like she was shown, but by the time she swipes her tail through the air, the apple has already thud to the ground and been in the grass for a whole three seconds.
This doesn't discourage her. "Oops!" she giggles, swooping down and retrieving the beautiful red thing. She tries a second time, and is slightly closer to hitting it; the fluff of her tail grazes the skin of the apple.
"Oops!" she laughs again, picking up the increasingly more bruised fruit. She smiles up at Mortimer. "This is fun! Why won't people play fun games with you before?"
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Posted: Tue Jan 06, 2009 11:03 am
It had taken Mortimer until the second drop of the apple to realize precisely how small her tail was in comparison to his. His had always been of a good length. It was thick and sturdy, easy enough to whip without much of a motion - but the little girl's? It was like a twig. Whether it would move an apple or not, he wasn't sure, and the concern that had gradually been raised passed when he had heard the second oops. Oops.
"You almost got it." He had glanced towards the apple, the poor thing battered and bruised without having made any headway. It was likely grateful for the rest, though it would likely never be the same. "It takes time, but you're not bad." Of course he was lying, but it seemed proper to do after such an effort.
Mortimer had paused, his face growing long with something of curiosity. It was because he had never asked anyone to play with him. He hadn't ever gone out into the great world with the intention to play - most of the time he had spent it trying in vain to elude Simon's analytical eye. But it was fun. It did seem fun.
"I don't know." He had confessed, one hoof scraping the ground. "Maybe they ain't got tails, or they're busy, or ..." He had coughed, grabbing another apple and holding it in his hand. "You're full of questions, aren't you?" He had squinted at the little girl for a moment.
Play, play, play. There was something firing off in Mortimer's mind - it was like a revival of the funny-bone. How did one play? "This is the only game I know... You know any?"
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Posted: Tue Jan 06, 2009 1:18 pm
Elly tosses her arms up in the air. "LOTS!" she pretty much squeals, and her tail darts upright as a third limb for emphasis. "There's House, and Doctor, and Cowboys an Innians, and tag, and hide an go seek, and.. and.. lots of stuff!!"
Terribly excited, Elly jitters on the spot, shifting her weight from foot to foot rapidly. She heard a magic word in there: game. Elly loves games of all shapes and sizes; she hasn't met one she hasn't liked, except that boring Risk one, that one she could never figure out.
She scrunches up her nose in a tight smile, and makes a clicking noise as she sucks on her feet. Chipmunk! She saw one. She leans a little on her left and grins at it as it runs away. Just as quickly as she was distracted, she's back at attention again, paying Mortimer full mind with a proper smile this time. "Hee!"
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Posted: Tue Jan 06, 2009 1:43 pm
Cowboys and innians? Indians? Mortimer's shoulders had lifted with his own mild enthusiasm. That was something he knew about from the old western movies. Angry Indians in full feather and bead regalia would parade about the plains, striking after cowboys as they steered their way and their cattle across rugged terrain. "How do you play Cowboys and Indians?" I had asked, wide-eyed. The fact that the little girl had mentioned Cowboys at all brought a surge of connection somewhere within his mind.
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