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 Posted: Fri Jun 18, 2010 11:27 pm
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Posted: Thu Oct 28, 2010 4:15 pm
X -Mother May I -
"You leave her OUT of this." Zac snapped trying to reach the bottle clutched so firmly in his mother's grasp. She slapped him, the sound of it reverberating off the cabinets and walls. For a brief moment it froze them both into stillness. <******** you..." Snarled his 'mother' as she staggered backwards into a corner made from the cabinetry and tipped back the bottle of amber liquid. "******** that little b***h...you ...have no idea." She snarled and shook her head furiously. Her normally pinched back hair coming loose in small tendrils around her face. "What she represents!" She bellowed, booze turning her chin into an almost glossy shine. She -reeked of it, a problem that had been growing worse each night Beth stayed with them. He counted his blessings that tonight, beth was at a friends house. She didn't need to hear this, not with everything she had been through.
The fire... the guilt of it twisted a knife in his chest and screwed his determination tight enough to crack its foundations.
"She NEEDS us!" He snapped "She lost...EVERYTHING." he said stalking forward again, his eyes still watering from the sting of the blow. She slapped him again but he grabbed for the bottle anyhow, eyes watering so hard he could barely make it out to grasp it.
Somewhere in the skirmish it slipped from both their grasps and fell to the floor.
They say moments like that pass in slow motion, but its not strictly true. More accurate would be to say that your mind freezes them and replays them in horrifying accuracy, but he moment itself passes before you can blink, spraying clear glass that spreads like ice in a sea of whiskey around your feet.
"LOST?" Screamed at him, before bursting into tears at the spill he now worked so carefully to clean, tucking the smallest bits into the palm of his hand so that she wouldn't step on them in her stocking feet.
"WHAT DOES SHE KNOW OF LOSS!!!" She screamed and pummeled her fists into his shoulders, there was little force there but what she could manage being so utterly -drunk-. "I lost HIM... I lost him..." She sobbed and half collapsed against him. "I lost him...he meant everything... and then she... how could she.. how could they." She sobbed.
He cursed because he'd nearly squeezed down on the broken bits. He didn't understand what she meant at all... right now he didn't care. He let her slide to the floor in a spot he was sure was clean, but for booze... and cleaned up the rest of the fragments and put them in the trash before he returned for her. His palm was a mess of tiny pin pricks from glass and he stared at her for a long moment and wondered... what it would be like to look at her like this if he cared at all about her.
"Once upon a time..." he told her as she wept and sobbed at the celling, "I wanted to make you proud."
He said no more but stooped and offered her a shoulder, to guide her to her room where she could sleep off what was left of the whiskey...and smother her guilt for another day.
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Posted: Mon Nov 01, 2010 8:01 pm
Fly away Home -
He wanted to punch something by the time he got home...what had he been THINKING. She was -right there- she was right there and she hadn't even fought back.
He shook his head and threw himself down on the cheep lumpy mattress of his dorm room and drew Mr. Tenebrous to his chest and sighed, closing is eyes to the glow in the dark stars that still littered the ceiling, along with what he suspected was a pickle... he tried to think.
Why hadn't he just taken it, then again now only would his would be project have failed from the start, But Schee, would have been furious as well. Scheelite after all wanted to kill her himself.
HOWEVER, Scheelite also was the reason that his Cousin Beth was staying with HIS family now, because Scheelite, idiot that he was at times, had killed BETH'S mother, though how he'd mixed THAT up was anyone's guess… he’d never really thought that HIS mother and BETH’S mother had looked that similar, not till that day.
One part of him still ‘appreciated’ the thought, the strange defence of his honor for daring to ‘like’ another boy, but still.
He blamed his own upset with Dem’s intent on killing Lyra, on Lyra LOOKING like Beth, at least a little, it was the hair he thought. The idea of Beth being a senshi though was...laughable. She was everything he wasn't... sweet, bubbly... an ABYSMAL cook...
Then there was Lyra, angry, furious even, and it seemed she'd had her hands around someone's starseed, Not very Beth at all.
He grabbed his pillow and mashed it down over his own face so he could yell into it in muffled frustration. Tightening his knuckles to the point of whiteness as he vented his frustrations into the clean white cotton.
IT was final, he'd just have to prepare his notes and ask the Queen herself if he could work on corrupting her. Never mind that he had no idea if he could corrupt himself of if he'd need her to do it for him. That wasn't the point...the point was PERMISSION to do it. If he had that, if he had that he could, if need be, wave that in Scheelite's FACE to make him stop trying to KILL her for a little while...well maybe.
No that was stupid, if he killed her maybe she wasn't as beneficial as he thought she could be. Let them keep fighting, it would be a chess game between them of sorts and SHE was the prize.
He tossed the pillow aside and rolled to his feet to grab his notebooks and flipped though the pages till he found his notes on "Lyra" and started reading them over and over again. He'd need a better schedule, she was too erratic...he'd have to try.
He pulled out paper and fresh pens and settled at his desk where he could begin forming his letter to the queen.
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Posted: Mon Nov 01, 2010 8:31 pm
One month -
One month, one month to finish his work on Sailor Lyra or pay the consequences of being bold enough to ask for this. He wasn't sure if he should feel enthused or doomed.
He WOULD do this, he told himself over and over again, not simply because there was no room for failure but because he needed to. For himself, not just the negaverse...HIM. He needed to prove that he was capable. He would make his team help him as well if he could...even if it was just sending them out to distract the rest of Sailor Lyra's team while he did this.
What about the cat?... what ABOUT the cat... well they did have that horrid forehead blast thing that had knocked them off kilter last time he and Scheelite had been around Sailor Lyra. Worse she'd come back with more 'oomph' than she'd left with and a new wardrobe. What about the cat...
If it showed up again would it do the same? Would it add 'oomph' to Sailor Lyra? if So...was that good or bad? Time would tell...he'd just have to try and prepare.
But by god...if her new attack burned what would it do if upgraded again? Full on immolation?
he grabbed one of his note books and started jotting out probabilities, but how did you predict something that for all intents and purposes...was magical.
He slammed the note book down and rested his head against it for a long pause. One month...one month.
What did he have that he could prepare with...
He had smoke...so did she, her's burned but he had goggles, and his new mask. Those both helped... HOWEVER. However, Faya had proved that his coat was not fire proof, enough embers could pose a problem, he'd have to be cautious. He was taller than her if just barely, that gave him a small edge for restraining her.
He'd restrained her last time, surprise and smoke had been on his side, with a little work he could do that again, it would work, he could do this. He'd plunge his fingers into her chest, grab her starseed and...
And then what?
How DID you corrupt someone. His heart sank into an icy pit, he didn't -dare- just call the queen, it might 'waste' her time...but whom else? General Lina... he'd call her, he'd ask...if she didn't know she must know someone who did. For every problem there was a solution, and this, this was now his most PRESSING problem.
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Posted: Wed Nov 03, 2010 1:08 pm
He cleaned off as best he could as soon as he got back to the Dormitories, but the bruises were well on their way to forming before he got ice to put on them. His split lip looked abysmal and his nose was red, but fortunately not broken.
His ribs ached from where she’d landed a few well aimed if angry blows at his ribs, he cursed the inventor of heeled shoes as he pulled a white glove from his pocket and stared at it…
He didn’t quite remember taking it, but here it was in his hand. The fabric of it was soft and white, except where there, across the knuckles blood he rather suspected was his own had spattered from moments of impact. He would use it to remind himself just how serious this could be…
As though he needed any reminders, he’d been in the hospital once already because of the Negaverse, he still didn’t remember who had attacked him, and in the long run it was probably better that way. If they knew they had attacked someone who was now a member of their ‘merry band’ let them stew in the knowledge of it. It wasn’t as though he had ANY time for such things as revenge…not now.
His head pounded and as soon as he was in the room he fished in his drawer for some aspirin he’d locked into one of his drawers, he even almost forgot to disengage the small trap he’d set, he fixed his error just in time to keep from being squirted with ink and cursed his own negligence.
He snatched a soda from under Dem’s bed and swore to himself he’d replace it later, or buy dinner for them again as he sat down gingerly on his bed and fumbled for Mister Tenebrous.
It was worth it, he told himself… it was. He had to believe that… though what in the name of god he was going to tell Demy about it was another matter entirely.
He sighed and pressed the cool petal of the can gingerly against this cheek and then swapped it carefully for the ice and winced. He had driven another nail into her psyche…she’d think twice next time she went to attack him, of that he was sure.
One month to finish his ‘project’…his heart pounded in his chest and he remembered all to clearly that he had to find someone to tell him HOW to corrupt someone…
Sorry, not ‘corrupt’, the new word was ‘purify’, purify sailor Lyra….
He had so little time and so much to do, but at the same time he could taste it, that victory that would be so sweet. HIS plan, HIS idea and HIS results…
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Posted: Wed Nov 03, 2010 3:48 pm
((added solo "Ultimatum, after the fight, page 1))
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Posted: Sun Nov 07, 2010 11:53 am
Crimson Crystal Aftermath -
He thought for a moment his heart must have stopped when she said ‘cut it off’… when she’d even thought about cutting something off.
He was exhausted, more than exhausted even, he was shaking through and through half fear and half exhaustion.
He staggered to his dorm room Bed and collapsed upon it wishing ever so much that he could just close his eyes and have done with. But it wasn’t as simple as though, oh how he wished it were.
He was supposed to be home this weekend, worse, he was missing Beth whom he was supposed to have been escorting. He assumed that she had run out with some of the others because he didn’t remember seeing her after the chaos started.
He’d seen other familiar faces though, Lyra for one, she’d been right there eating the cake with him…ugh. He never wanted to see cake again, just the thought of it made his stomach gurgle plaintively and he pondered hurling.
How could they stand it, that ‘Senshi of Wealth’ who had pelted Scheelite with seemed happy enough while she was eating it. The thought though that the bloody cake had been a Yoma didn’t help matters at all though. He scrambled and grabbed some of the fizzy-stomach medicines that he’d originally bought for Dem, who never used them, gulping it down and praying that they did SOME good.
Who else…ah yes… Peruses, at least she hadn’t kissed him again. What would have happened though had her hand closed that last bit of distance between her and his coat. What if she had grabbed it before he vanished?
Would she have found herself holding nothing but air? Or would she have been dragged along to that inner sanctum to be the food and fodder of Yoma.
Maybe the queen would have ‘purified’ her too…the way he wanted to ‘purify’ Lyra.
He curled up and let the uniform fall away, back in that strange costume that Dem had set him up with, prying at the latex that held the infernal ‘gold’ jaw in place and scrubbing at the fake tattoo on his neck.
God… he had to find Beth… make sure she was ok. He patted his pocket and his heart skipped a beat, no crystal. He checked all his pockets and nothing. On an impulse he changed back into uniform and nearly dropped to his knees in relief to find it in his coat pocket still. Satisfied he let the uniform slip away again. There at least it was far safer than trying to carry it around as a civilian. True the queen had said no Senshi could take it from him, but what of other members of the Negaverse? What of civilians like his mother or Beth? True he expected no ill at least from Beth but what –if-, that most damning wonder, that most irritating word ‘if’.
He fished his phone out of his pocket and paused again to catch his breath… at least, being this tired he could say he had run…. He flipped it open and found Beth’s number and called.
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Posted: Sun Nov 07, 2010 12:31 pm
Off with her Head ---
They had cleaned up the kitchen, and he’d washed the floor, he’d found only a few extra pieces of broken plates and glasses, they had eluded detection by sliding away under the edge of the cupboards. He’d sent Beth to bed, even if it had taken some serious work to do so. He ended up mopping the floor just to be sure and he could hear that Beth was still up, despite his scolding when he finally put everything away and went to his own room. He grabbed one of his favorite Panda’s and flopped down on the black and grey comforter to sit while he took off his shoes.
His mother’s behavior this evening was…manic to say the least. He couldn’t even pretend he understood her behavior since her Sister’s death.
He pinched his nose and reached for his book on chess, the one that now lacked a cover, who’s pages all were yellowed and curled from the number of times he’d read it, turned pages, The ‘birthday gift’ from his father.
He flipped it open to familiar pages of chess strategies, openers, gambits, and finally closed it again. He knew very well there were no answers here.
There were no reasons, that he could imagine for why His father was so convinced he was ‘someone else’s’ child. Why he left…who he loved that made him leave them…had he ever cared? No…he doubted that he did, but what about Beth’s father. Wouldn’t it have been better for him to come home? Why couldn’t he at least send for her, why leave her here?
Maybe he had no idea just how bad things were, he –should- write, he SHOULD ask… after all if his own father could make an all too brief appearance when he was in the hospital, surely hers could in Beth’s hour of need.
He stood again and moved to his desk to find writing paper and a pen and paused listening… his mother he was sure of it. Talking to someone… it must be the phone. It was a shameful urge but he succumbed to it, moving closer to the door to try and catch snatches of their conversation.
I’ll all that’s left!! You should at least come back for your daughter…I know you care about –HER- he heard his mother say in angry tones, loud enough to make out before she dropped to more soothing ones, almost pleading and he could no longer make out the words.
He sighed; he was half relieved and half miserable at the idea that Beth might be taken away. She’d be happier… he told himself and hoped he believed it. He wished he could go with her, so much. Or just be a little older, able to take care of him self and do so legally. He was sure he could swing a job AND do schooling, just as long as he could pay for enough to finish High school, that took care of room and board for a while at least… after that. He could probably get some kind of scholarship, he might not be ‘the’ top grad at the school but he was far from foolish… then things would be alright for him AND for Beth, all it would take…was time.
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Posted: Sun Nov 07, 2010 1:15 pm
A kiss can be deadly -
They had to call a Taxi to get home, she could find a way to retrieve her car in the morning, he wasn’t going to drive her, she was far too clingy as a drunk, and god only knew it would be the time he’d be pulled over for driving without a license.
She was spattered liberally with the Champaign she had knocked off the tray, he couldn’t even imagine how much she’d had to drink to be so giggly, but he was glad it hadn’t been more lest she go from giggling to furious at the world.
But…the evening was far from a total loss, tucked into his pocket was a small card with embossed gold writing, a number, and a name.
A simple thing but it titillated his interest, engaged his mind into what if, and what about kind of ways that he couldn’t even begin to explain. There were so few people that interested him in this way. Beth for sure, but she was his cousin, Dem, absolutely but he sort of dug under the skin and infested your psyche, there was no escaping him. She though…there was just something… curious about her. She had excellent taste in books, she’d helped him as Zinkenite, and now… now He’d just actually run into her, in a social setting.
He wondered if there was indeed such a thing as ‘threads of fate’. His Father had mentioned them once, with stars in his eyes. One of those few times he’d been home and vaguely attentive. At the time Zac had thought he was speaking of his love for his wife… he had been so very wrong.
He helped his mother inside the house, took her to her room and helped get her shoes off before letting her fall over on the bed where she drooled on her pillow. This time he was nice enough to pull her hair pins out so she wouldn’t complain that they had ‘stabbed her in the scalp’ as well before he closed the door and went to make sure everything was locked up. He peeked in at Beth and smiled softly before drifting back to his own room with a sigh to hang up his ‘good clothes’ and find a safe place for the business card she had given him…
A business card, and a kiss…
He wondered if she should have asked her for a dance, he could dance well enough after all. He had danced with ‘that Senshi’ that one evening, that same evening where she had ‘kissed’ him and put the whole world into odd angles and shifting distances. A very dangerous gift … her eyes reminded him of Adira’s but little else.
He could hardly imagine that genteel young woman ‘decking’ anyone the way –SHE- had.
His hand wandered up to his cheek where his fingertips brushed lightly the place where her lips had brushed and he blinked again in surprise. How curious… how very strange.
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Posted: Mon Nov 08, 2010 5:37 am
Fail-mance - ((posted with permission and lols from Dem))
It had been decided, that ‘snuggle time’ was fair and open ground, in order to get Dem to sleep, he could, on occasion (BUT NOT ALL THE TIME) still crash on Zac’s bunk with him and ‘use him as a teddybear’.
The result looked probably comical because it would Be Dem, spooning Zac, spooning a plush panda. Well, as much as one could spoon a plush panda.
That worked out pretty well most nights, or afternoons depending how busy their evening had been with collecting star-seeds (for while Zac’s quota as Zink was cut by General Lina for finding the Crimson Crystal… Scheelite’s was not)
The events that followed though, on this particular night were proof that Dem, should under no conditions be allowed to be ‘cuddly’ in more than a sleep related fashion when he was more tired than conscious.
It started innocent enough, both arms wrapped rather firmly around Zac, though it did cause Zac to grumble some about the arm UNDER his ribs and why did he have to keep putting it –there- because it was misaligning his spine.
Dem of course thought the complaint was ridiculous but cute and ignored it.
After a while Zac settled as well even if it was a bit huffy. He even started to doze off when Dem popped open an eye and leaned in to snuggle into the curve of his shoulder and kiss his cheek.
“Stop it…” Mumbled a very tired Zac. He had of course been ignored. He tried swatting Dem on the leg, which had little to no effect except to get his ear nipped.
He had to admit Dem had been a LOT more ‘affectionate’ since his time in dreamland but at times like this the little nibbles and kisses were just a BOTHER.
“Damn it Dem, I’m tired sod off ok?” He groused turning his head just enough to try and see the other boy. This at least made Dem grin and loosen his arms JUST enough so that Zac could roll over the rest of the way. He obliged but ONLY so he could argue properly. It was really hard to argue when you were facing a wall and a plush panda rather than a person. “Sleep!” He demanded as soon as he was settled again. “Sleep now… cuddles later.” Dem just shook his head and grinned and pulled him tight to him again. “Newp!” said the blond. “You’re mine now!! You can’t get away!” He crowed and started to roll, squashing the shorter young man to him as he did so.
“Dem! Stop it your going to…” Zac started to protest as Dem turned fully away from the wall they had formerly been facing and tried to arrest Zac’s protests with a Kiss.
The problem was of course, that the beds were twin sized; there was no room for such antics.
They rolled –strait- off the bed with a howl of protest from Zac and a yelp from Dem.
Zac ultimately got the ‘worst’ of it, squished under his room mate against a cold tile floor, the wind quite knocked out of him. Dem was just fine, save for a bruise to his ‘romantic ego’ and the fact that for the rest of the week, he was forbidden not only ‘cuddle time’ but had to sleep in his OWN bed until the bruises vanished.
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Posted: Tue Nov 09, 2010 9:03 am
It was fortunate for the rest of the school that Zac’s violin was electric, no one else had to hear the fact that he had been playing it for the last 3 hours strait.
His fingers ached even through the calluses, but his mind was whirling.
He had headphones plugged into it so he could at least hear the notes that he produced as his bow hummed and sang over the strings.
It dipped down in a low purr and then rose chaotically like a panicked bird to pause with hopping heartbeat thrums as he tapped and pressed and sawed at the strings.
He had no song in mind as he played, he let the music follow the ramble of his thoughts, up and down and around as he tried to chase them into some semblance of ‘rightness’, but they swarmed like angry bees, stinging and needling him with their utter refusal to settle into something logical.
Ever since Scheelite, who was also his room mate… ever since he had seen first hand how tricky whatever strange glamour hid them from the world could be he had been more attentive to faces that looked the same.
Rather… he tried to be more attentive, but somehow, somehow it always seemed to slip his grasp as though the universe refused to reconcile the similarities. In his mind he matched the pale grey eyes of Adira and Percius, but could not think for the life of him anything else that was even close, he pushed it aside.
He matched Scheelite and Dem in his head and his stomach twisted with old memories of ‘the chase’, being stalked, even attacked by him, and then to find out it was his room mate, whom also had a crush on him. Somehow the differences between Scheelite and Demy made –sense- he could see how close they were, and the subtle changes that made them not…there was no universal shrug to cast off the ideas when he thought of Schee and Dem.
His violin soared into a high thrum and then hissed and squeaked downward as he sawed furiously back and forth in even strokes and then purred again as he matched the one other in his head that had struck him.
Lyra… and Beth. It was the most ridiculous thought of course, but the fact that the thoughts slipped like mercury through his fingers brought him to those some awful thoughts again and again.
What if, that very devil of a phrase that haunted him, along with her words from after the ball, it had almost seemed… almost, as though she were lying as much as he. She had been at least as sick of cake as he was…
His thoughts turned to that red crystal… so reminiscent of the brooch that Lyra wore. The violin sang a bird like trill, panicked and fluttering before hissing to a stop and he turned to stare at his notebook, open to a page on Lyra, hair, eyes, weight, height...
There was one thing that he might try… one awful way that might answer his question. He had to believe, had to know that his Cousin was not part of this, was not, of all things on the ‘wrong side’ of this war.
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Posted: Thu Nov 11, 2010 10:50 am
Cat's in the Cradle -
The next morning he put more burn ointment on his hand and arm, and carefully wrapped it up, it was an adventure in and of itself to do so though because he hadn’t waited for Dem.
He had at least looked up some things on burns and knew not to wrap it too tight. He had NO desire to be stuck to the bandages, just to keep other things off the burns, or out of considering there were a few blisters at his knuckles where he’d been closest to that ‘star’.
He hissed and carefully flexed his fingers and cursed quietly. At least Dem was out of the room and not staring at him like he was behaving like Ted Bundy.
He had no idea how he’d explain his injuries either, it wasn’t as though he had easy access to a stove, or anything that might steam…besides steam burns were almost defiantly worse than what he had received.
He checked his scratches, only a few were so deep he’d put butterfly bandages on them, they still hurt where the shallower ones at least felt less bad, though it looked rather like he’d had a fight in a shrapnel factory.
Humiliating, he still thought he’d done ‘well’, but well was not GOOD enough; he’d lost the cat… he’d given up the cat because of Lyra…
He should have just ripped its awful little star seed out… He could have broken its little neck too, in either form he suspected but the thought made him cringe. So… physical, somehow it seemed more like a defeat then a victory…he pondered if he should work on that feeling. It was after all a weakness; he should at least consider it a last resort.
He dressed carefully and maximized covering his bandages with a hoodie. There was no hiding the careful bandages around his fingers, but perhaps he could down play them in the end.
God damned Cat… He’d see how cocky she was when he’d turned her sailor toward their way of thinking. He grabbed one of his notebooks and flipped it open and started to jot down information on the small Siamese, even her weight in both forms. You never knew when such things would be useful. He wondered briefly what would happen if you shoved her into a well assemble cat carrier; something that wouldn’t just snap apart if she changed to that creepy ‘cat girl’ form.
Would she then be unable to risk changing? Might she be stuck or do herself damage? He jotted that down among the notes and winced as he brushed his burned hand against the desk. He almost caught himself falling into a dangerous trap… he almost called her HIS enemy…but she was not ‘his’…he would not allow her to be that important.
He crossed it out vigorously and shook his head. No… she was an enemy of the Negaverse, and as such she would in time be subdued or removed. He would not risk starting to care who did the removing, he saw what it did to people and he would not walk that road. He swore it…
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Posted: Thu Nov 11, 2010 11:14 am
Two sides, one coin -
He got the phone call that evening, his mother, he didn’t pick it up the first time but after she called back for the fourth time without leaving a voice mail he gave up an answered. A quick fib was to say that he’d been in the shower and it seemed to placate her enough to start talking.
At first he listened with at best ‘half an ear’, details about her day drifted by like flotsam on the tide and he shook his head and rolled his eyes while making the appropriate sounds and vocalizations. He was more concerned with what he’d be doing in class and that evening than he was about whatever ridiculous things she had ‘accomplished’ at work that day other than the fact she still had a job and would continue to send him a small stipend.
Then she did say something that arrested his attention, in fact, he had to ask her to repeat it. She did so in such an insufferably smug tone that he had to fight the urge to hang up on her, foolishly that moment of irritation made him close his fingers in a drawer, his BURNED fingers and he very nearly made a sound that would have given away that he was not only distracted but injured as well.
“W…What was that?” he said… she repeated a last time with a small chuckle.
“I said, Beth’s father, lovely man that he is, has gotten an apartment, Beth will be moving out and into his place this weekend, isn’t that lovely? We’ll have the house JUST to ourselves again and maybe we can see your Uncle once in a while, I do miss him, lovely man. Shame his daughter takes so much after his late wife, my sister. God rest her soul she was always spoiled…”
She chattered on at the other end of the phone while he sat stunned with a cold fist in his chest torn between a number of feelings, he was happy for Beth of course, but at the same time. He didn’t want her to go… he was afraid that this apartment would be someplace ridiculous and inaccessible. He –liked- Beth, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about the return of the previously unreachable man. He knew he hated the way his mother was prattling on about him but he couldn’t put a finger on why. She hated almost everyone, why make an exception for the husband of the sister she’d always been in some form of competition with?
He took a deep breath and realized that he’d failed to make the right noises for her, that she was scolding him now and he apologized. It was so unlike him to be so sidelined by ANYTHING, especially family matters.
Had he grown so accustomed to seeing Beth that often, and so quickly? He mist have, there was no other explanation. He shook his head… caring for anyone was bound to lead to heartache, logic; he just had to be logical about it. It was the best for Beth after all, and that was all that mattered. He, after all, had a Senshi to attend to…
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Posted: Sat Nov 27, 2010 3:49 pm
Season's Screaming -
Shopping, it was the season, and he had a list…but he’d still put it off, too many people pressing in and squabbling over electronics and other ridiculous seasonal trinkets. He saw one person shoved so hard into a display that the whole thing had flipped like dominoes.
He had searched all day for the handful of parcels that he now carried with him, each gift wrapped and carried in plastic bags with their handles stretching out thinner and thinner with each stop, sometimes successful sometimes fruitless.
He paused to pick up something for Beth from one of the novelty shops, rainbow tinted glass pendants in the shapes of hearts dangled from thin gold chains and he added it to his basket along with a dragon made for sawdust for his mother. He thought the risk that she might understand the ‘dragon lady’ implications well worth the five dollars it cost for the cheep painting even though it was prickly when he picked it up and stuffed it into his basket.
He sorted through the tie die t-shirts looking for something for Scheelite… a rainbow spiral and an Internet ‘awesome face’ planted on the center of it.
He thought he might have residual nightmares of a pair of Scheelite’s boxers for weeks just from seeing it… he added a few tentatively to the pile and went to look at their trivial collection of history books in the hopes that there might be something there that would suit.
He added to his basket a few trinkets for some of his fellow Captains and lieutenants. A glass nail file with a purple handle dropped into the basket for Tanzanite…he thought it might be an interesting study to see if the teeth of the arm could be sharpened…or perhaps just the woman’s fingernails.
A pair of earrings for Linarite…his favorite General because she had taught the team so well, bringing cohesion to such a motley crew was no easy task.
He added in a Christmas card and a pewter wolf for Wolfram, though perhaps he should have found something with a bow on it, the Captain seemed to sprout them all over and he wondered if there was ANY personal fancy to them.
Selenite got a ‘harry potter wand’ which was really just a piece of driftwood with some semi precious stones strapped to it, Fayalite a paper lantern…blue and gold for irony since hers was red.
He perused glass chess sets for Uranophane, more costly but he DID enjoy chess so it was in truth a very selfish gift… he added instead a few lesser glass trinkets he thought she might enjoy, not the least of which was a red-glass queen. He thought it safest not to buy anything more controversial than a glass candleholder for Vivianite who he knew Uranophane was ‘attached to’…not daring to leave her out but not daring to be too personal either.
He fingered his soon to be purchases with a glint in his eye of satisfaction, some plans were now finished…and others were just beginning.
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Posted: Tue Dec 07, 2010 2:02 pm
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