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 Posted: Fri Feb 10, 2006 10:01 am
D wasn't sure why suddenly now everything was being flipped, turned upside-down! He had a wand - a wand that he'd somehow stumbled across which was (allegedly) going to change into a child, and now he had a jar. Oh, it was a pretty glass jar, old-fashioned in style, almost like that of an oil lanturn. But, alas, it was still a jar.
A man - his name wsa Shy, he believed - had caught him on his way to work. His wand (also bestowed upon him earlier) had been in one hand, his briefcase the other, and D had had ever intention of hightailing it back to work. The business world couldn't wait, that was for sure! And yet, this Dr. had caused him to stop, had beckoned him.
Perhaps he was more a scientist than anything - but he claimed to be part of a project. Zero Three Zero or something. There were numbers involved, that was all D understood. Whatever the case, he'd told him some story about fae and gods and weakening, and some offering themselves to this project, and whether or not he would help, and other such riff-raff.
Well, perhaps it was his own fault of getting into the mess, but he'd said yes, he'd offer up whatever services he could provide, but he did indeed have to get going to work!
Who would of thought he'd been handed a glass jar on the way out? The last thing he remembered, the most important bit, was that the jar needed to have an object placed within. The pink haired man thought little about the whos and whats and whys, and he really had no clue what to place into his jar, but he'd thought about it through the rest of his workday.
He surely wasn't going to place anything found there. As if they needed another accountant in the family!
D did regret having been so busy - he'd have to return shortly and clear through everything he missed. Still, the people at the office had to think him insane: first a wand laced with fur of some sort, allegedly going to grow into some sort of werewolf, and now he'd brought in a glass jar.
Surely, the jar was going to sit tight at home, the same with the wand (perhaps), but it was enough that everyone labeled him the crazy coot. He wasn't crazy - he just got sucked into these things without much of a second thought.
Kids. Who'd have thought he - D - would have a family? A single father who couldn't even find a stable mate was now raising two children. Or would-be children.
Whatever the world was coming to, he didn't know. But, the pink haired man was excited. If this is where the fates wished to guide him, than so be it.
Staring at the jar, he looked at the reflection of the small, glowing stick. It was little, and a virbran blue. One of his glow sticks, the kind he used to buy in his younger years. The kind that screamed of parties and raves, the kind that held that ever enticing glow and intrigue. Life was what they represented, chaos and power, pleasure and desire all mixed in one, tiny, plastic object. Uniqueness. Perhaps that's what summed them up best. It wasn't natural to have things glow, much less objects that could be placed anywhere - the mouth, the hair, the clothes.
D reached on long arm over to turn off the lights, studying how the light magnified. The darkness, night. It was beautiful, in its own sharp way. It reminded D of the young boy he used to be, as compared to the man he was now. Funny how life changed.
Back then he would have turned up his nose at the idea of a family, much less settling down.
Now, here, he regretted all the hearts he broke and all the games he used to play. Now, instead of glow sticks and bondage pants, he wore suits and put pens in his pocket. Instead of wild hair, he now had it combed back and over, many of his piercings removed.
Funny how life was always changing.
This little light, this little jar, he didn't doubt, was only going to add to that change.
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Posted: Fri Feb 10, 2006 10:03 am
D collapsed back on the couh, eventually tearing his gaze away from the little lamp. It glowed, dimly, the glowstick still within its glass container. The light was soft, almost gentle, despite its flourescant hue.
Pretty, endearing, and wild. Exotic. Unique. D couldn't help but allow a little grin to cross his features. Whatever he'd gotten himself into (and he was sure that something was bound to happen one of these day) he was anxious.
He'd get to be a dad.
A dad!
Oh sure, he'd never wanted kids in his younger years. But now, just thinking of having to cuddle the child, of having to play games with them, clean them, feed them, care for them. Paternal instinct ran strong in the man, almost disgustingly so, but everyone hadd always thought him queer.
Which he was, by all definitions of the word.
The problem with D was that he tended to care too much, too deep, too strongly. It happened when he was in love (which nowadays was rarely), and the beginning was starting to happen when he was in like, too. The little glowstick, destined to become something else, something greater. The wand, a reborn soul from one who'd been hurt in the past.
They'd be a family. A real family.
"How strange, it is," he slowly explained. "I don't even know if I'm father material!" It was true, he did have his doubts.
Sure, he held down a 9-5 job, and he'd long since lost a life since beginning his career as a businessman! But things had been missing in his life, things that he could define. Was it relationships? Probably. And since he'd proved time and time again he couldn't find Mr. Right, maybe it wasn't that sort of love that he needed.
Maybe it was the love of a child.
Maybe it was that he wanted, craved, desired, something to be dependant on him, even for a little while.
Would he be strong enough? A wild child reborn?
Maybe. Maybe not.
Again, only time would tell. "I hope I fail you not," he murmured, closing his eyes, trying to imagine what his life would be like someday.
Would they grow soon? Would they grow at all?
Maybe what he wished for was too much.
Only time would tell.
((Sorry for the gushyness - D is a total Mr. Mom! n_n; At least when it comes to family. ))
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Posted: Fri Feb 10, 2006 10:05 am
D had drifted off to sleep. It had been a light doze, the man exhausted from his days of work, and his wandering mind (assisted by the dim lights of the house) had wandered into the land of sleep somewhere along the way.
It wasn't a long nap, probably 20 minutes or so, but when he woke with a start, he stared long and hard at the ceiling. Ugh. He hated the feeling, of being half-awake, and now (because of his awkwardly flopped position) he had a creak in his neck.
Oh bother. He had to get himself out of these clothes, and set his alarm, and what about dinner? Had he eaten yet? Not sure of himself, the man slowly, carefully, pushed himself up. His body creaked and groaned, but D thought little about it. He was just getting old. For being almost 26, he was surely getting on in age.
Just the other day, he'd looked in the mirror and thought he'd seen a few strands of grey. Grey amongst that bright pink. Would that fade someday? Probably. Unlike some of the creatures found on Gaia, he wasn't anything special. Just kind of . . . human.
Looking over, the glow of the little glass jar seemed ot have changed. At first he'd thought it was his eyes, but then, after a double take, he noticed that no, surely not. There was something different about it. The innocent blue glow stick wasn't there anymore - but some sort of . . .goop?
No no. Goop was sticky and sludgy - this was something lighter, something wilder. Almost like a cloud, perhaps, but with more substance.
It really had changed. Oh my. Reaching over, sleep temporarily forgotten, the man gently picked up the light. Who'd of thought - it really had changed! Not that he'd doubted that Shy person - not at all! He just hadn't thought anything would've happened so suddenly.
"Well look at you!" He started, a silly smile etching across his features. "You're just moving right along through growth, aren't you?" He reached his hand over, curiousity getting the better of him.
Did he reach in and touch it? A little pet perhaps? Oh - but he didn't dare. What if it hurt whatever it was that was in the lamp! Bringing it closer to his face, he felt a slight warmth radiating from the neon glow.
It was a light, almost faded out sort of blue - but it seemed to occassionally swirl with a darker blue. As if it wasn't enough to be light, as if there was more substance to it than just the neon glow of blue.
The glass was warm too, as if whatever was in there was radiating heat. And all heat was a form of energy.
Well - it was a glowstick. If this child was going to be in anyway like the ravers who typically wore glowstick, then it was no surprise. Hmm. Energetic? Perhaps, perhaps - only time could tell.
Maybe he should of offered something more gentle, like a tissue or spatula? Well - what done was done, and he didn't want any ill feelings to overpower the little light.
D was, in short, delighted. "Well, my. . . . . child?" He blinked, not sure what to call this thing. Oh well. "Let's be off to bed. I've an early morning tomorrow."
Oh - and did he dare leave the lgith at home? Or bring it with? But to expose to all those people, and who knew? A few in his department might not appreciate all the "toys" he kept bringing home.
Whatever.
He'd worry about that in the morning. Keeping the lamp in one hand, he reached over and found the wand that he'd set on the table. Bringing them both to his room, he set them carefully on his dresser, besides each otehr. "You two can get to know one another - you'll be siblings, you know," He spoke as if they really were listening to him.
And who knew? They might.
Just think. Soon, he wouldn't be alone. Soon he'd have a house with a glow-stick fae and a wolf.
Life was bound to get interesting. Maybe it was good he was single and not seeing anyone. Throwing children (and such creative children as these were bound to be) was going to be something to explain.
Thankfully though, most of Gaia abounded with children. So maybe it wouldn't be so bad afterall.
Whatever. He was thinking too much - and thinking too much before bed was never a good thing.
Shedding his work clothes, he crawled into his bed and made sure to set his alarm. Work. In the morning. "The joy of joys," he murmured, curling himself tight in the blankets. Work meant money, and money meant. . .
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Posted: Fri Feb 10, 2006 10:06 am
It was raining. D was impartial to the rain, though he stared out the window of his home, listening to the roll of thunder. It was out of season, but then, temperatures had been unseasonably warm.
The scent of burnt toast came from the toaster, and he reached over to flip up the switch on the side of the machine. He really needed to go out and buy another, but he just hadn't had the time.
"Well, the holidays are long since passed," he murmured to no one in particular, setting the course, slightly-blackened bread on a paper plate.
The holidays had hit him hard this year - there was really nothing or no one to celebrate things with. His family had long since passed away, he'd been an only child after his brother had run away so many years previous, and life had revolved around him growing into a productive citizen (more like drone) of society.
Strange how yesterday he'd been a punk, raving against the world, and today he was playing Mr. Responsible with a Briefcase. The world was a funny place, surely.
Thunder rumbled, shaking the windows. Ugh - he'd have to commute in this weather? How wonderful. "Looks like you kids are staying home today," he explained, glancing over at the wand and lanturn. The wand had been unchanging, but it took a lot (he remembered Ianna telling him) before it would turn into a spirit.
The little light, on the other hand, seemed to be growing day by day. It had been a few days since he first recieved the light, and nothing had happened since. Sure, it went from a glow stick to a slightly heated floating cloud (or something - he still hadn't chanced sticking his fingers in) but after that, there'd been nothing.
He wasn't impatient, but he was getting anxious and excited. All the anticipation was driving him crazy. And today would be no exception. With the "children" at home - oh please, Gods, don't let someone break in~! - he wouldn't have them at the office with him. He'd have no way to check up on them, no way to see if anything was different.
Still, perhaps that was for the best. Maybe he could focus on work and not look over at the wand or lamp, every five minutes. Maybe with them home (they still were only objects, were they not? - he'd have to find a sitter or daycare when they grew!) he could actually get his mind off of them and onto work.
Poking at his eggs on the griddle, he carefully pulled them up and layed them on the slab of toast.
"You kids are gonna have to get along today - I promise I'll be home after 5pm."
After breakfast, a quick shower, and grabbing his jacket and umbrella, D was out the door. It was only when he reached his office, shaking out his umbrella, did it occur to him - what would happen if one, or the other, grew while he was away??
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Posted: Fri Feb 10, 2006 10:07 am
[ Message temporarily off-line ]
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Posted: Fri Feb 10, 2006 10:09 am
It had been an accident. The man, who had been running late for work thanks to a faulty alarm, was scrambling to get his things together. "Where's my shoe! Where is it, where is it, where is it!"
The panic could be heard as the tall, pink-haired man scrambled around his small apartment, searching under the couch, under the sink, in the bathroom, under the rug, under his bed - everywhere.
He needed his other workshoe! Being poor (despite making somewhat decent wages) the man didn't have money to afford TWO pairs of black shoes. Black shoes, brown shoes, and some sandles for the summer, and a pair of boots for everyday were it. He wasn't a woman - he didn't need fifty-billion pairs.
Thus, he couldn't change into a new outfit. The colours would have been entirely mismatched, and he was already the laughting stock of his workplace. To come to work in a black suit with brown shoes, well, D just couldn't get himself to do it.
It was tacky - and D hated to be tacky.
"Where is it?" He begged any gods, hoping some would hear.
They, as usual, said nothing and gave no clue.
After another five minutes of frantic scrambling - he managed to find it in the one place it should hav been - his closet. How it got there the man had no idea - but a look at the clock proved him to still be running late.
No time for much breakfast, that was for certain. Instead, he pulled out a pitcher of Tropical Punch Kool-Aid.
Yeah - maybe it was the small things like still drinking kids punch that kept him eternally single and unloved - but the sugar would be a good rush. Enough to get him into the office and through his 8:30am meeting without so much as a donut to gnaw upon!
If he were lucky, they'd offer coffee or fruit, but with how cheap his bosses were, D doubted they'd have that luxury.
Now, D had poured himself a plastic cup. Everything should have gone as planned. The pink haired man tended to be very predictable - every morning it was the same routine.
Shoes, jacket slipped upon his shoulder, a tightening of his tie, picking up his briefcase, and then snatch up his keys and head out the door.
This was routine for him - the only difference this morning being he held a cup of sreamingly bright red tropical-punch sugar-water.
His mind was frazzled. His goal was the door but D never made it. Instead, his shoe had been neglected to be tied, thus, when he went to lift up his foot, he found it caught firmly to the ground.
Tripping over himself, he felt his body fall foward - his little coffeetable, where a wand and blue light sat innocently, was right in front of him. Thus - he did the only thing natural - reach out to catch himself.
Banging against the wooden table, he slammed his shins hard against it, scraping them painfully down as his knees buckeled, and he collapsed half-on, half-off the wooden table.
His shins up to his knees burned from where hte edge had cut into him, and his hands stung from the force of his body against it. Part of D was glad he hadn't killed himself, or worse yet, broken the table! But he was thoroughly embarressed AND upset.
His cup.
The Kool-Aid.
Everywhere. It stained the top of the table, splattered atop of the wand, and even ran down into the light. Surely, D was already feeling it soak into his suit and tie, down his front and arms.
Great.
Wonderful.
Embarressment gave way to trauma as he realized there was no getting to work early. Not today. Frustrated and upet, he stared at the blue light. It flickered, almost wildly, as the blue meshed with red - creating a strange, purple colour.
At least it hadn't gone out - but there was no way of removing it!
Reaching up, he picked up the glass and wiped feebly at its dripping glass sides.
"Sorry," he apologized, looking first at the glass jar, than over at the wand. Both were stained with juice - and what was he to do? The back of his eyes burned as he realized his day wasn't getting any better. He was stained with juice, he had no time to do laundry, and he couldn't call in. He'd be late for his meeting - he might even lose his job or at LEAST get written up!
He couldn't be late.
But he couldn't go to work covered in juice. He'd have to clean up and change. If he hurried, he still might make it - if he walked out the door, he might only be but a minute late.
But no.
Pushing himself up a bit shakily, trying not to flip out and scream a line of cusses and expletives, the man hobbled to his room.
He'd rather be clean and late, than face his bosses covered in Tropical Punch Kool-Aid.
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Posted: Fri Feb 10, 2006 10:10 am
D pushed open the door to his apartment, dropping his briefcase in the hallway, kicking off his shoes, and heaving a heavy sigh. He had been late to work that morning, late to the meeting. His boss had taken him aisde afterward and spoken to him about it. He had been written up, and been warned that if he couldn't handle the requirements of the job, or get to work in a timely fashion, than he should start looking for a second job.
No, he hand't been fired, not yet. But he couldn't afford another problem, another hassle. And what about - oh bother.
Depression was starting to tug at his heart. It was just one of those days - it had started off poorly and only seemed to have gotten worse. The raincloud of doubt and despair seemed to be hovering over him, and wouldn't leave him be.
All he wanted to do was go home, get something to eat, and curl up with his headphones. Music was his companion, as it always had been. But now that he was older, now that he was forced with responsibility, the man found its affection slight. He surely had changed since his teenage days.
Life's priorities had changed from doing what he wanted to doing what The Man wanted. He'd become a humble peon, a doormat to society. That was his niche in life, and there were no more parties. No more dances, no more raves, making out on the couch, giggling madly over videogames and childhood ignorance.
He didn't have time for such things. He worked.
That was it.
Loosening his tie half-heartedly, the man unbuttoned his jacket and button-up top. "I need a drink," he grumbled, picking his way over to the kitchen.
Of course, as he crossed the entryway, his eyes did fall upon the coffeetable, still stained with sticky remnants of kool-aid. He'd cleaned up what he could that morning, but didn't have time to be thorough with it.
There was something strange though - something off - something blue sitting on top of the table. The creature was sitting on the edge of the table, where the little lamp should have been. His arms were crossed, but his eyes were closed.
Whatever he was, he had no clothes, and was the same colour as his obnoxious blue glowstick. Mixed with Kool-aid stains. D's blue eyes went wide with shock and surprise.
No. Way.
He'd grown? This thing - fae (his mind supplied weakly) - had finally arrived! Hand reaching up to his mouth, his previous worries and concens were forgotten.
"You're - you're here!" He found himself croaking out, shock overwhelming him.
Today? Had the Kool-Aid done it? The music a few nights previous? Whatever the case, D hadn't a clue how to resond. Now that he atually had a kid? child? fae - what was a fae anyway? Some mythological creature reborn out of that glass and his glowstick?
Whatever the case, D now had bigger things to worry about.
LIke how this child was going to now be an intrical part of his life.
Two eyes opened, slowly, as if the little fae had been dreaming. Day dreaming, and perhaps he was. Still, those rich, Kool-aid stained eyes were wild, feral in a way, but not unkind. An intensity ebbed off the little creature, an intensity that seemed ready to break free anytime.
"I've been here all day," his voice was softspoken, not loud or rushed, nor full of jibberish. His little fingers started tapping the edge of the coffeetable, his eyes unwavering from D's. "Music. I want - I want music." As an afterthought, the little one's face broke into a smile. "Please."
See? He'd listened and payed attention to everything D had done. This and that, here and there - a conversation on the phone, or the man just prattling to him. He'd heard, he'd listened and he'd remembered.
And since he'd done such a thing, didn't it mean he deserved it?
D couldn't find the words. He felt himself nodding, dumbly, as his mind raced over the answer. Music. A CD? Vinyl records? Tapes? He didn't have anything for the boy, he now realized.
Oh - but his iPod.
Yes yes - how silly was he?
"Alright," he croaked again, pushing himself numbly away from the child to drift over to the countertop. He'd placed the music-player on top of the counter the day before, and had neglected to move it.
His hand reached over, fumbling for the little white ear-phones.
The little fae had slid off the countertop, and snuck over. He looked up, waiting patiently, his eyes focused only on the top of the counter. Massive was this counter, for the little fae WAS little and short, and he had no way to clamber to the top.
So that was where the music was kept? Well - if he had his way, there wouldn't be a problem with that anymore. Tapping his fingers against the edge of the conter, the little blue one waited.
"Do - do you have a name?" The question was still stained with shock. How had this happened? He'd KNOWN it was going to happen but now? Today? D was completely, utterly, thoroughly unprepared!
He took the MP3 player off the shelf and offered it to the child. Was this his child? Or just some creature he had to care for? D didn't know - and D suddenly really wanted a drink - but he wouldn't sip at it infront of the child! Oh no.
What had he gotten himself into? He wasn't a parent - he was just a lost, lonly little boy with pink-hair, forgotten tattoos and piercings who was forced to wear a suit!
Not a parent - not. at. all.
The little fae's eyes brightened, his thin fingers and arms reaching towards the machine. He allowed D to help him place the ear-phones in, and allowed the man to press the little triangle - the "play" button.
Where was the music? Wher was it where was it where - AH HA~!
Eyes lighting, the boy gave a little smile, pleased. The music was now his. "Cheylir," he suddenly announced, eyes gleaming with wicked delight. Now he was complete.
Without thinking, without giving D so much as another acknowledgement, the llittle Cheylir started moving to the music. Of course, his grooving consisted only of bobbing his head, but it was a start. The child didn't sit, but wandered, investigating this new world that he now reigned.
It would work. For now. Though everything was far too big for him and his slight size.
D could only stare, watching the light blue and red stained boy? wander. So this was fatherhood. Stress, pressure, and some feeling of suffocating doom. What if he messed up? What if he hurt this Cheylir?
And how the hell was he going to find a babysitter before tomorrow morning~!
Nonetheless, if this was love (or the start of it), he'd keep it.
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Posted: Tue Feb 28, 2006 9:51 pm
The litte kool-aid stained boy couldn't sit still. Winding his way through the small, cramped apartment the little one bobbed his head to the fast-paced-beat.
"By the way - how much is the fish?!"
His voice, typically quiet and rarely heard, was suddenly surrounding the room. A bit on the squeaky side, and still a smidge breathy, his volume increased tenfold in time with the music.
First a squiggle beside the couch, before his body found its way shimmying over to the coffeetable. His head bobbing soon became head-banging as the song by the european non-gaian band continued to progress towards the climatic finish.
Techno music was his favorite.
Techno, dance, happy hardcore - if it had rhythem, if it had a DJ and if it sounded hot, the litte blue and red stained boy was happy.
Very happy.
In fact, it was rare that Cheylir to not be happy! He was like any young thing - wild and crazy, hyped up on his love of music and his joy to groove.
A dancing machine, or so D had dubbed the little stained fae. Careless and carefree, so long as he had his iPod and headphones, Cheylir was as gentle as a pussycat.
"La La lalala La! La La lalala La!" He clicked his tongue to the music of Scooter's "How Much is the Fish" and continued his awkward, thin-bodied dance around the room.
A wand sat lifelessly on the couch.
D was in the kitchen, cooking dinner, and Naia was tucked away in her room with her imaginary friends.
It didn't matter.
Cheylir, though he loved them all, was too in love with music to need them around.
He had the song, he had his dance, and life couldn't get any better.
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