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 Posted: Sun Jun 08, 2008 1:00 am
 ::Unexpected Call pt. 1:: If nagging were an Olympic sport, then Felicity’s dear sister in-law would take home the gold. Felicity had a feeling that the woman would shrivel up and die if she didn’t have someone to nag. If it had been Felicity’s choice -which it wasn’t- she would have ended the engagement and bought Jodie a nice pair of lead shoes to go with her brother’s spiffy new boat. Here’s to hopeful thinking the redhead thought.
Felicity balanced the phone between her face and shoulder, trying to wash the dishes and pay attention to Jodie’s tirade all at the same time.
“I know you’re thinking that I’m nagging at you, but I’m really truly not. I only want things to be better for you. It just breaks my heart to see you living all by yourself up in that dreadful cottage. Why won’t you come stay with me and Todd? Our house is big enough and we’d both love to have you. It’s not healthy to live so far from people Felicity, it just isn’t.”
“Look Jodie,” Felicity replied trying to keep her growing anger from showing in her voice. “I actually like living up here. I enjoy being along. I would appreciate it if you would try to understand me even just a little. I’d be really great if you’d stop asking me to come live with you. I’m a grown woman and I don’t need to live with my big brother. That would just be totally embarrassing.”
“Embarrassing to who? It’s not like you have a boyfriend or anything.” Here we go Felicity thought, flicking off the soap bubbles from her hands. “God only knows that you should get one. You’re nearly twenty five and you haven’t had a steady in four years. You aren’t getting any younger Felicity. Before you know it, you’ll be that old spinster in that old cottage on top of the hill. You should really think about settling down.”
“Maybe I want to be an old spinster Jodie and maybe I don’t want a boyfriend. I don’t want to get married as sure as the sky is blue. You seriously need the grasp the concept of people not wanting the same things you do.”
Oh now your mad at me. Please don’t be mad at me! I only want what‘s best for you.” Jodie’s tone took on a pleading watery sound. If she started crying again, then Felicity was just going to hang up. It wasn’t her fault that Jodie just couldn’t leave her alone.
“I’m not mad at you Jodie. I’m just tired okay.” Felicity said soothingly trying to stop the whining noise on the other side of the phone at all costs.
“See!” Jodie cried defiantly. “It’s too much work for just one person to keep up that house. You really should-”
“You know what Jodie, I’ve got to go right now.” Felicity said hurriedly cutting Jodie off. The woman just didn’t know when to stop.
“Go? Where could you possibly be going at this hour?”
“Mail. I forgot to pick up my mail this morning. I’m expecting a package and I don’t want to leave it outside all night.”
“You really shouldn’t be doing that. It’s dangerous at night. What about all those bears and stuff? They eat people like you for your information.”
“Goodbye Jodie.”
“Wait a-” Felicity slammed the phone onto the receiver with a gentle force effectively cutting off Jodie the Nagging Wonder. She really had to talk to Todd about his overzealous wife. She seriously needed to have her head examined or something. What a hideous nag.
Felicity finished drying the rest of the dishes with a depressed air and set them back on their proper shelves. She didn’t really need to go get the mail. That was just a little white lie to distract Jodie. In fact, she wasn’t even sure if her package had even arrived yet. Anything to get that monster off my back she thought.
Sighing and resigning herself to her current predicament, Felicity slipped into her yellow hiking boots and downy raincoat. She wasn’t exactly dressed for a Jodie approved party, but her attire was perfectly suitable for going up the road for the mail. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do about Jodie, but for the moment, getting the mail seemed like the most important thing to do.
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Posted: Sun Jun 08, 2008 11:58 pm
::Unexpected Call pt. 2::It was a lot warmer for an April evening than Felicity had expected. It was generally cool during the spring months, almost cold, but tonight it seemed to have grown unusually hot.
She hadn’t even left through the gate of the white picket fence that surrounded her home before she started sweating. Feeling nearly lightheaded with the sudden onslaught of the torturous heat, Felicity hastily removed her coat and hung it haphazardly on one of the slats in the fence. She’d come back for it when she returned. It’s not like anyone was around to steal it and she was feeling lazy enough in the heat to not want to walk back to the house to but the thing away properly.
Feelings somewhat better, Felicity continued on down the overgrown lane to the mailbox. It wasn’t a long walk or particularly scary in the dark, but Felicity was feeling uneasy as she walked along the dirt path. The farther she got from the house, the more uneasy she began to feel. Writing off the feeling as having to do with the heat, Felicity kept walking.
This would be a very romantic lane Felicity thought to herself. If only is wasn’t so overgrown and run down. She made of note of it to hire a gardener the next chance she got. The old one had left the state for some reason or another and Felicity had just never found the time to hire on a new one. If her father could have seen the way the Ryecroft property had become overgrown, he would have pitched at fit.
Oh well. So much for pleasing the dead.
Felicity felt the warm tears rush to her eyes and she hastily rubbed them away. It would be no use to cry. She had been crying for nearly a year now and she knew that tears didn’t bring back the dead. She supposed that was why Jodie was so worried about her. Felicity guessed she was caring in her own twisted kind of way. Jodie had been around when Felicity’s father had still been alive and knew somewhat of the close relationship that they shared.
Brushing the arrant thought from her head just as she did her tears, Felicity faced forward and didn’t think on the subject again, deciding to anticipate the package she had ordered four weeks ago.
The package she was expecting had been shipped oversees from a small bookshop in Derbyshire, England that specialized in the collecting and restoration of classical books. The book in question was a collection of old French fairytales written by the comtesse de Sophie Ségur. The book was handwritten by Mme. Ségur herself and dated back to the late 1700’s. It was a lucky find and just exactly the type of book that Felicity wanted to add to her already extensive collection. The store owner also said that the work was in prime condition.
Thrilled by these thoughts, Felicity excitedly walked the rest of the way to the mailbox.
The trees that bordered the lane soon began to get pushed back by scratchy shrubs and long willowy weeds. Up ahead, Felicity spied what looked like the mailman’s satchel bag. She could even make out the words “mail” in black stitching. Felicity wondered why the postman would leave his bag just sitting on the ground like that. Maybe it had her book in it? It couldn’t be that big could it? Felicity wondered just how big the collection was fairytales were.
Felicity walked cautiously over to the bag that was laying innocently against the crooked mailbox. The bag was half hidden by the weeds as if it had been there for a long period of time. She even spied a hole in the side of it. What the devil?
She grasped the rough fabric of the bag by its half open lip and peered in. In the bottom lay nothing but a single jagged stone. Felicity reached for it and discovered upon closer inspection that it wasn’t a rock at all but something else entirely. Other than the broken edges, the object was smooth to the touch and glinted pale gold when it caught the light. If Felicity knew any better she would say that the thing in her hand was a piece of egg shell, but it was far too big and much too thick. I felt something akin to an ostrich egg and there were no ostriches around the Lafayette countryside.
Puzzled with her find, Felicity looked into the bag again, hoping to her book. That at least would bring her back into the normal state of reality. The shell piece was just too weird for her liking.
Felicity wasn’t expecting to find her book at the bottom of the bag, but she certainly wasn’t expecting what happened next.
There was a high pitched cry from among the clutter of bushes next to Felicity’s left. Thoughts of big ugly bears dance through her mind as a tiny thing came whirling towards her from out of the bushes. The mailbag was sudden ripped from her hands and the poor redhead was sent sprawling backwards on her butt.
Looking bewilderedly up, Felicity saw a strange golden haired boy balancing precariously on her already titled mailbox, clutching the bag to his chest.
“Que voulez-vous que vous faites? Cela est à moi! Sortir d'ici!”
“What?” Felicity asked bewildered, her high school French being a little fuzzy.
“Oh-ho! A commoner I see.” The boy replied with a lilting French voice. “You do have a fine look about you sitting there in the dirt girl. I suppose you shall have to do, though goodness knows I deserve far better.” The boy said haughtily jumping down from the top of the mailbox with the bag in hand.
“This is mine don’t you see? Don’t touch it again.” He waved the satchel beneath her nose.
Felicity finally managed to get her voice back after taking in the sight of the strange boy. “Now see here you brat. I don’t know where you get off talking to me like that. I didn’t do anything. You’re the one standing on my mailbox. Didn’t your mother ever tell you to respect your elders?” Felicity regarded the boy with a fierce look. She was shocked to see that the boy wore no clothing and that there was a feral look about him. His golden hair was fraught with brambles and he had scratches up and down his arms as if...as if he had been clawing at himself.
“I think you are mistaken peasant. You are the brat and I am the elder!” Exclaimed the child. “I have boot buckles that are older than you.”
“Oh give me a break.” Felicity snarled brushing off her bottom as she stood up. “You’re like what? Eight?”
“Correction Mademoiselle,” The boy replied with a soft French accent. “I am nearly two thousand years old.”
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Posted: Sun Jun 22, 2008 10:25 pm
 ::Owies and Questions::“Cut that out.” Felicity huffed at the queer boy who was laying face down on a sheet that was laid over her dining room table.
“Well, it hurts.” The boy retorted with not an ounce of pain in his voice. “You would do well to treat me better peasant.” He resettled back onto his stomach, arms folded neatly under his chin.
“Maybe if you’d stop moving than it wouldn’t hurt as much. And don’t call me peasant. My name’s Felicity Captain Dorkwad.”
“If a rose by any other name-”
“Don’t even finish that sentence or you’ll wish you hadn’t been born.” Felicity snapped rubbing more peroxide on the kid’s back.
“It is much to late for that.” The boy replied in a sadly forlorn way.
The two lapsed into an awkward silence with Felicity not knowing how to break it. She sighed, focusing on the boy’s back and how to take care of it. She felt like a heel for saying what she said, even though she didn’t know why the comment had made the boy upset in the first place. She guessed she would have to tone down the sarcasm and funny retorts for a bit.
Felicity gazed down at the tattered remains of the boy’s back. His pale white skin was crisscrossed with mean red welts. Some were very deep, bleeding even as she rubbed a cotton swab of antiseptic over them. She fancied darkly that she could see pink muscle gleaming and moving underneath the blood. The boy’s back held the worst of the injuries, but there were also marks on his arms that looked suspiciously like scratches. They were long and unbroken starting from the shoulder and ending at the wrist.
When Felicity had asked the boy where he had gotten them, he had promptly responded that he had tripped and fell. That excuse hardly accounted for the injuries that he had acquired. Felicity didn’t believe a word of it but let the matter stand. She could wait for him to tell her.
Felicity, however, had grilled the boy all the way home from the mailbox about his name and origins and such. All her questions were met with useless, terse remarks or no comments at all. The strange boy had sullenly walked by her side, clutching the mail bag to his nude form. When she asked if the boy was cold, he merely grunted.
The boy was still naked now as Felicity began to cover the cuts with sterile wrapping. She opened the package with a snick and began laying the cloth over the wounds as best as possible. Some of the cuts extended shallowly up to the boy’s neck and Felicity thought it would be okay to leave them uncovered. They were the only part of the gashes not bleeding freely. She hoped fiercely that the medication and her novice first aid attempts would stop the red liquid from flowing. She wasn’t sure what she’d do if she had to take the kid to the hospital. Felicity shuddered at the thought.
“Alright, sit up a bit so I can finish.” Felicity said after she had laid the last of the damp strips on the boy’s back. She was surprised to see that he sat up without a fuss.
The golden haired boy sat up stiffly with a grimace twisting at his mouth. He winced as he lifted up his already bandaged arms so as to allow Felicity to wrap soft gauze around his back and torso to keep all the padding in place. She was trying to be as gentle as possible even though she was itching to ask the child a billion flaming questions. She sighed knowing that he was hurt and most likely too tired to answer any of her questions at all. No like he would she thought with a snort.
Felicity stood back to admire her handiwork. It wasn’t exactly hospital authorized, but at least the kid wouldn’t be getting any infections. It seemed that the blood had slowed a bit too. At least it wasn’t leaking through the bandages. Felicity then proceeded to help the boy off the make-shift operating table that sometimes masqueraded as a dinning room table.
“I can get down myself.” He snapped with a scornful flick of his blond hair. And get down he did. The boy jumped from the table nimbly enough, but when his feet met with the impact of the tiled floor, he cried out and would’ve fallen if Felicity hadn’t steadied him.
“Are you alright?” Felicity was worried despite the rude and haughty tone in the boy’s voice.
“Oui, I’m fine” He jerked away from Felicity with a wavering step. He groaned adding. “Maybe I’m not so fine after all. Servant, I demand you fit me with suitable sleeping quarters this instant.” The haughty tone was back, along with a cold arrogant face. Felicity wondered how a small child could look so arrogant.
“I’m not getting anything for you until you show me a little respect. I bring you into my house and put band-aids on your owies. The least you could do is show some gratitude for the fact that I just helped you out.” Felicity crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at the small boy while using her no-nonsense voice that would cow any reasonable child. “And for the last time, my name is Felicity. Get it straight already kid.”
The boy regarded Felicity with steady, vibrant blue eyes. “Owies” He finally said. “What on this God given earth is an owie”
“Well…it’s you know, a cut or a scrape.” Felicity stuttered, realizing she had used words that she had once used for her little brother. She shook her head. No! She wasn’t going to let her mind follow that route. “You know what I mean anyhow. Now, are you going to apologize to me or not kid?”
“There is nothing to apologize for because I have done nothing wrong. You also need to get it straight, as you say, that I am not a child.” The not-child crossed his arms too and glared at Felicity with a fury.
“Then what are you if not a kid? You haven’t told me one thing about yourself. I don’t even know your name and still you make demands of me. I don’t think I want to help you anymore.”
“I told you already that I am nearly two thousand years old. Don’t you understand English or do you want me to say it French? I’m tired and want to sleep. If you’ll just point out your sleeping quarters I can do the rest myself.”
“No.”
“What?” Came the boy's astonished voice.
“I said no or don’t you understand English? I’m not helping you until I get some things answered. For instance, how can you be so old? You look like you’re eight.” Felicity leaned against the table refusing to let the little twerp walk all over her. She’d be damned if she didn’t get her questions answered, injuries or no.
“Would you like to make a deal then?”
“What kind of deal?” She quirked any eyebrow at the serious, almost ridiculous statement.
“I’ll tell you one thing about myself for every three things you do for me.”
“That doesn’t seem fair.” Felicity scoffed. “Why my three to your one?”
“Because acting is done easily, but remembering is not.” The boy cryptically replied.
“What does that mean?”
“Mon Dieu! You ask to many questions. It mean what it means. Do we have a deal or not?” The boy’s voice took on a very serious, querulous tone as if he was in the business of making very important deals. His words had a power to them and Felicity had a feeling that he would keep whatever promise that he made. She shivered as each word weighed heavily on the air making it a little hard to breath properly
“Fine. You’ve got yourself a bargain old-young man. Since I’ve already done more than three things for you, I get to ask my one question. What is your name.” Felicity smirked even knowing that the question was an easy one. The boy had been adamant about not giving his name to her, but now she would have it.
“They call me Toulouse.”
Felicity didn’t know who “they” were, but she had a feeling that the Toulouse didn’t like them at all.
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Posted: Sat Jul 19, 2008 2:26 pm
: biggrin own with the Heart:: It was dark. He was in that horrible place again. No, not again! Why was it always dark? Voices filled the blackened void like a swarm of insects. Pain, he was in so much pain? It hurt…the voices were so loud, they were shouting at him, asking him questions…they? His head hurt, it hurt to remember, to understand. Why did it have to be this way?
He struggled against the darkness, against the tearing voices, but he couldn’t move. His limbs were like lead, hard and unmoving as his heart. Iron burned his already bleeding flesh. He cried out, screaming for anyone. Screaming defiance. He wouldn’t give them up, wouldn’t tell them his secret. They had killed them. He wouldn’t…he’d make them pay! They were dead because he was to weak. He couldn’t protect them. He deserved to burn for what he did. He was not better.
“Death to the King.” They cried in discord. “And death to the followers of the bleeding heart.”
Toulouse woke up screaming from the dream, ripping at the covers that surround him. It was dark and he was in strange place with strange smells and strange noises. Where was he? He panicked trying to escape his trap of cloth. Toulouse was crying, screaming for help. No one ever helped him.
Felicity was in the downstairs library when she heard Toulouse scream. His shouts echoed right through the ceiling and into the very pit of her soul. Her stomach dropped as she ran from the room, leaving her books unnoticed.
The redhead arrived in her bedroom to find Toulouse curled up in the sheets in terror, his screams reduced to hoarse whimpering.
“Toulouse!” Felicity called softly making her way into the room. This was the third night of Toulouse’s horrified crying. Felicity thought she would get used to it, but every night it got worse and worse, the agony of the child’s crying wrenching at her heart.
“Toulouse.” Felicity said again. “Toulouse it’s alright, stop crying. Don’t be afraid.” Felicity reached for the little boy who shuddered under her hand, flinching away. She sat on the edge of the bed, stroking the trembling body who’s little mewling cries had yet to cease. Toulouse shivered underneath a cocoon of covers.
“The dark.” Toulouse gasped. “Dark…” His words were stunted and quiet. Felicity flicked on the bedside lamp.
“There.” She said softly. “No more dark.” Toulouse had never expressed a fear of the dark before, but then again…Felicity remembered she had turned the hall light out tonight when she went downstairs. “I’m sorry I didn’t leave the light on for you.” Felicity began to gently untangle Toulouse from his nest of covers. He had finally quieted.
When she had uncovered his face, Felicity saw that the boy’s eyes were round with fear and unshed tears. His skin was pale and he was covered in a slick sweat. He was still trembling. Felicity’s heart went out to him. There was no trace of the haughty boy from earlier, only a scared human being who desperately needed to be comforted.
“Hush.” Felicity murmured taking the unyielding Toulouse into her arms. He cuddled against her without realizing it. “Don’t fret. It’s going to be okay now. I’m here.”
“And what are you going to do about it?” Toulouse replied tiredly, trying to add bite to his voice but failing. “It’s never going to be okay. You don‘t know anything.”
“Alright. You win.” Felicity conceded gently. “I don’t know anything. I don’t know if it’s going to be okay, and I don’t know if there’s anything I can do but comfort you.” She hugged the little boy closer, taking in his sweet and bitter smell of honey.
“It’s getting worse.” Toulouse whispered. “The voices are getting louder and their words more clear. Oh, I don’t want to hear what they’re saying. A-and I know I‘m going to see them next. I should die before that should come to pass. I couldn’t bear that.” Toulouse pressed his face into the softness of Felicity’s chest
“Do you know what they are going to say anyways?” Felicity asked before thinking.
“Yes.” Came the horrified voice from her breast. “I don’t want to hear it again. I don’t want to die again. I can‘t watch them die in front me. Not again.”
“Shush. You’re not going to die or see anyone die. I’ll take care of you. Even if you are a little brat who likes to make deals.” Felicity tried to laugh weakly at her own teasing joke. “It’s going to do you no good to worry besides.”
“That’s all I was ever good for. I always worried and never acted. I’m such a fool.”
“No you’re not. You’re just you.”
“I hate me.”
“Well, I don’t and that’s all that matters.”
“I hate you too.” Toulouse said softly, clutching Felicity a little harder. He hated everyone. The only people he could ever trust and depend on were dead. The dream had painfully reminded him of that again.
“My previous comment stands. Hate me if you like, but I could never hate you. I said I was going to take care of you and I will. I wasn’t lying to you.” Felicity patted Toulouse’s back, unfazed, already feeling that he was beginning to calm down. He was right she thought. His nightmares were getting worse and she didn’t know what to do about it. Maybe she should take him to the doctor or something.
“Are you going to be okay now?” Felicity asked looking down at Toulouse’s golden head. “You seem a little better. Do you think you can go back to sleep?”
“I don’t ever want to sleep again. When I sleep, I remember.” Toulouse looked up at the soft face of Felicity wanting her to leave, but afraid of what the darkness would bring without her. Without her words all he would be those voices. There were just so many voices.
“Do you want something to drink then?” Felicity tried to stand up, but Toulouse kept a firm grasp on her, his face determined and voice silent. “Okay.” She said easing back down on the bad. “How about I stay here?” When Toulouse didn’t answer, Felicity kept going. “We could just lay here together for a little bit.” Felicity grabbed some nearby pillows, scooting up against the headboard to lean back on it. “Ther.”
Felicity didn’t know how long she sat with Toulouse huddled in her arms. After she had offered to stay, he hadn’t said anything, only clutched her tighter and tighter. Felicity’s eyes began to droop when she looked over at the clock on the wall and saw that it was nearly three in the morning. Toulouse still had a death grip on her
As gently as possible, Felicity began to snuggle into the covers of her bed, trying not to disturb Toulouse, not knowing if he was awake or asleep. He was silent even as Felicity leaned over to turn off the bedside lamp, and quiet still as Felicity sighed laying with him in her arms. She was so worried about Toulouse, but she didn’t know what she could do about it. He was frightened of something and Felicity was powerless to do anything about it.
“Goodnight.” She whispered to the golden boy, while giving up a silent prayer for him.
Toulouse lay for a long while yet in Felicity’s arms, waiting for her to fall asleep. He told himself that he would leave once she was. However, when the girl’s breathing became slow and rhythmic, Toulouse couldn’t seem to force himself out of the bed. He felt warm and comfortable in the strange girl’s arms, almost as if he belonged there. For once in a very long time, Toulouse felt some semblance of safety.
“Bonne nuit.” He whispered to Felicity’s unhearing ears.
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Posted: Mon Jul 21, 2008 12:35 pm
::Rp So Far::
-[OGRP] An Enstranged Meeting [Incomplete]
-[PRP] Out on the Lake (Ivyro, Plat, and Mir) [Incomplete]
-[PRP] The Park's the Place (Ivyro and Mir) [Complete]
-[PRP] Glittering skies on the Hilltop (Choco and Ivyro) [In Progress]
-[PRP] In Search of Knowledge (Jules and Toulouse) [Complete]
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Posted: Tue Aug 12, 2008 10:24 pm
::The Dusty Concerto pt 1:: Toulouse had managed to somehow miraculously wiggle his way through the trap door that led to the attic. For the first time, he found that it was tough going. His middle had gotten stuck about halfway though. This in itself was unusual as Toulouse had climbed through the very same hole many times before with no problems at all. This time was obviously different. It had taken Toulouse nearly five minutes to extricate himself before he was finally free.
He sat in the darkness of the attic, panting, watching the dust motes float through the beam of light from the only window. Toulouse was happy that he hadn’t had to yell for help. Granted, Felicity was in the downstairs shower and probably wouldn’t have heard, but it still would have been extremely embarrassing nonetheless. The day had been strange enough to begin with without her having to yank him free from his precarious position.
Toulouse had been clumsy all day and he had no idea why. He may no be described as graceful but he was never clumsy. Still, he found himself tripping over things and bumping into places that were before otherwise safe from his attentions. He felt like his skin was just too tight and that his arms and legs were trying to break free of it. His muscle were sore with a strange tension too. He didn’t feel any different besides that nor did he look physically unusual. Maybe he was catching a cold?
The thought of a cold didn’t make Toulouse feel any better. He still felt foolish and thick for having broken his bowl at breakfast. What was worse still was the fact that he had topple the vase center piece as he was trying desperately to clean up his mess. At that point, Felicity just told him to leave which Toulouse did readily.
A sneeze erupted out of his nose suddenly and Toulouse shook his golden head. He had nearly forgotten why he was up in the forsaken attic in the first place. With a new vigor, he looked around the small dusty space taking everything in.
Cardboard boxes were shoved into every available corner and a few were even stuck in the upper shelves that the beams of the roof created. There were black garbage bags tossed here and there, each full up. What made Toulouse wrinkle his nose was the fact that everything was covered in a fine veil of gray dust. Everything from the floor to the boxes to the bags was absolutely filthy. Toulouse began to rummage quickly through the nearest boxes so he could leave all the more quicker. He tried to touch as little as possible.
Felicity had wanted him to fetch down clothes for the Army of Salvation, whatever that was. She had explained to him that they only came by twice a year or so and that she wanted to help them out with poor. Toulouse wasn’t in the attic for the poor. He was in it because he felt retched for breaking Felicity’s things. He owed he a favor at the very least.
The boxes in front of him had nothing to do what he was looking for. They were only filled with useless Yule decorations. Toulouse made a noise shoving the box aside. He moved further into the attic cursing as his newfound clumsiness cause him to bang his head on one of the lowest beams. Not only did he have a wicked bruise but he had unwittingly started an avalanche of the boxes that were perched about him.
Toulouse cried out as three, four boxes fell right on top of him. He fell on his butt coughing and sputtering as a plum of dust and cobwebs wafted about him. “Bloody stupid.” He grumbled to himself pushing that boxes off him. The contents of said boxes had been strewn everywhere and Toulouse sighed. At least his happy accident had unearthed Felicity’s charity clothing.
Slowly, Toulouse righted the boxes and filled them back up to take them downstairs with him. The last box however held a surprise for Toulouse. As he picked it up, there was a soft thunk followed by a sickening twang. At his feet lay a very old very batter leather case. It was a strange case too. It looked like a figure eight with a long straight tail. Toulouse picked it up and gazed at it somewhat fondly wondering what was inside. There were the initials A.R. embossed in gold on the outside. The case was so familiar and Toulouse wondered how he could forget such an object.
Toulouse suddenly dropped the case, grasping his forehead in pain. White starlight burst out behind his closed eyes. He opened them, blinking, temporarily blinded by the strange light. “What the devil?” The pain and lights were gone as quickly as they had come. Toulouse rubbed his forehead thoughtfully, wondering what had just happened. It felt like strong magic, but who had cast it? He didn’t feel any the ill for it and brushed the magic off as his own internal imbalance. Hurriedly, Toulouse grabbed up the boxes of clothing and the strange case and headed downstairs.
Felicity was in the kitchen taking out a tray of cupcakes from the oven when Toulouse walked into the kitchen with his arms full of boxes.
“Oh my gosh!” Felicity screamed in shock. Upon seeing Toulouse, she promptly dropped the tray in her hands. The tray of cupcakes clattered to the ground loudly as she stared at Toulouse in confusion and surprise.
“What?” Toulouse asked dropping the boxes on the floor. “I can’t look that dirty can I? Should I go bathe?” He wondered at Felicity’s reaction.
“W-w-w-what happened to you?” The redhead managed to gasp out.
“What are you babbling about?” Toulouse demanded beginning to get irritated. What was she carrying on about?
“Mirror. A mirror.” Was a Felcity managed as she pointed to the wall where a mirror hung.
“I don’t see what this-” Toulouse never finished his sentence as he stepped in front of the mirror. “Great Caesar’s ghost!” He exclaimed looking at himself as if for the first time. He…he was bigger! It was as if years had been added onto his child’s form in a matter of minutes to create a boy who more resembled a man now.
Toulouse gave a whoop of joy, dancing over to Felicity. He grabbed her now small form -how had he ever thought her big?-and twirled her about the.
“I can’t believe it!” Toulouse crowed through a genuine smile. “I’m finally older. It was stranger than the first time but at last on my way to becoming my old self! An adult!”
“Yes.” Felicity replied a bit dizzily after Toulouse had put her down. “I’m just as surprised as you are.” And surprised she was. It was shocking to watch a little boy go up into the attic only to come down as a teenager. She was even more surprised to see a genuine smile lighting up Toulouse’s face. She had never seen him smile that that before.
“Oh Felicity,” Toulouse asked picking up the strange case, no less the happy. “What is this?” It took a moment for Felicity to gather her words. She just gapped. Toulouse held in his now big hands her father’s old violin case. She thought that it had been sold years ago!
“That,” She started. “Is my father’s violin case.”
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Posted: Fri Aug 15, 2008 11:58 am
; biggrin usty Concerto Pt 2:: It took nearly an hour before Felicity had managed to calm both herself and Toulouse down enough so that they could both sit relatively immobile on the couch. Still, Felicity was still a little jittery at the sight of the new Toulouse and Toulouse…well, he was just jittery cause he was finally tall. He had be waiting for this particular growth spurt for some time now and was just tickled pink over that fact that he could now reach the kitchen cabinets without getting on the counter.
The finding of her father’s lost violin also startled Felicity too, especially since she thought that the old thing was long gone. Toulouse seemed to love it though for some reason, and the redhead watched him just hold the instrument in his hand while rubbing his finger up and down the string covered neck.
“Can you play that?” Felicity asked. Toulouse obviously wasn’t paying any attention because his expression was that of rapt attention on the violin. “Toulouse.” She let the impatience creep into her voice. He kept ignoring her and it was irritating.
“Hmm, oh. Did you say something?” Toulouse asked without even looking up.
“I said can you play that thing. Why don’t you quit staring at it. It’s starting to creep me out.”
“I…can’t remember if I can play this or not. It seems so familiar, like an old friend. I just can’t seem to recall. Maybe I can.” Toulouse’s fingers ran down the wooden neck of the violin then traced across the polished surface of the upper bout and around the curling F-holes. “Besides, I couldn’t play this right now even if I wanted to. The E string is broken. See?” He held up the violin for Felicity’s inspection.
“Oh. I see.” Even though Felicity didn’t. She had never played the violin before. She had only watched her father do it when she was younger. Then a thought hit her. “You know, there may be some of the extra string laying around in the study. I think father used to keep some in the little desk by the chair. He so loved to play in that room.” She smiled fondly remembering happier easier times when she was young..
“I shall go check then.” The violin was put carefully back into its case as if any moment the glossy instrument would break apart. Felicity watched Toulouse’s long figure stretch up gracefully, heading for the lower stairs. Another thought hit her.
“One more thing. You’re not sleeping with me anymore. You’re to big.” Felicity tried not so blush, but it had to be said. Toulouse had been sleeping with her since he had come to her as a child, but it was time to stop.
Toulouse paused in the doorway, some of his cheeriness draining from his face leaving it pale and drawn. “What do you mean?” He asked uncertainly.
“Just what I said. You can have my room if you like and I can sleep in the downstairs one.”
“But I don’t want to. Why can’t I?” He asked with a little alarm flitting through his voice. Toulouse thought of the dreams that plagued him every night. With Felicity not with him, how would he cope? With here around, they seemed less real…less violent.
“Toulouse, it’s just not kosher. You know what I mean.” Felicity replied not elaborating. Toulouse wasn’t that thick and she didn’t need to embarrass herself by explaining it any further.
“It’s not like that and you know i.” He grasped the violin case in his hands in a hopeless kind of way. He knew what Felicity meant though and she was right of course. He clutched the violin case tighter and nodded suddenly. “Yes, you’re right.” As much as he hated to admit it. He was not looking forward to the lonely nights to come.
“Oh. Good.” Felicity stuttered surprised that Toulouse hadn’t picked a fight about it. “I’ll be just downstairs anyways so you have no need to worry.” She tried to sound happy but it was caught in her throat. Toulouse just nodded a little dejectedly again and turned to walk downstairs into the study without another word.
Felicity wondered if what she did was the right thing.
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