|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Wed May 03, 2006 5:27 pm
Lessons
Guinevere stared at Kotatsu, her blue eyes impassive. She was quiet, listening to the guardian flail in a sea of attempted conversation. The woman's speech included lots of phrases that were hints of a dying talk. Phrases like 'Nice weather we're having' and 'So how was your day?'. Things like that. She would help the guardian along, but she simply wanted to see what would happen when Kotatsu ran out of variations of the phrase "Isn't this nice?"
"Isn't this nice?" Kotatsu asked cheerfully. "Learning how to make a sandwich is always fun, isn't it?" Guinevere supplied her with a nod and Kotatsu clung to the response like it was a life preserver. "That's good." The redhead was teaching her how to make a sandwich, which apparently consisted of cold vegetables and meat between two slices of bread. Guinevere had never seen a sandwich before in her life and when Kotatsu had found this out, she had experienced the feeling of embarrassment when the other person said 'Really?'. Now she watched Kotatsu with a wide stare and the sort of determination that bent nails. She did NOT want to hear that tone again. "See how easy it is?" Kotatsu asked, stepping back from the sandwich. "Of course, there are other types of sandwiches too but you have to wait until you?re old enough to use the kitchen tools to make them." Guinevere nodded once more, enjoying the responses she was getting from it. "You remind me of a character in a book, doing that. You should read it sometime." The herald looked up at her. "I don't know how." She waited for the really. "Oh! Oh, of course you wouldn't, would you? You just act so mature sometimes." Kotatsu twirled a strand of hair distractedly. "Alphabet?" Guinevere tilted her head. "No, I guess not." The guardian clapped her hands together. "Well, I can teach you. And then we'll get you some nice books." Guinevere wondered if it really mattered. "Is it important?" "Reading? Yeah, yeah it's certainly important." The herald nodded seriously. "Teach me." Kotatsu smiled. "Say please. And anyway, you still have to get settled in. Wait until you're comfortable enough here before I try to teach you how to read." Guinevere disliked this answer. If she had to wait until she was settled in she might never learn to read. "I'm comfortable with Pucci. Could he teach me?" Kotatsu giggled, something Guinevere disliked. "No, no. Not unless you wanted to learn how to meow. Patience is a virtue, Guinevere. Just be patient and I'll teach you when you're ready." Guinevere nodded sullenly. If there was something she didn't know she wanted to learn it right away. "Would you like your sandwich?" Kotatsu asked. Taking it, Guinevere said "Thank you." and left.
Later on in her room, Guinevere sat on the bed, upsetting Pucci and causing him to leave. She knew what a book looked like, it looked like a journal. She had a journal. So she had taken one of Kotatsu's books. Opening it up, she could only see unintelligible scribbles. How could anyone make heads or tails of this? Turning it upside down didn't help much. Turning the book around in different directions, she put it down after a good while and merely sat, feeling a bubble of frustration rise in her. She was so busy calculating how she could learn to read that she didn't notice Kotatsu come, pick up the book, and begin to read aloud until she found herself listening to the story. It was about three 'bears' and according to the pictures, bears were large furry things. Sort of like Pucci. They lived in houses in the woods. Kotatsu took time from reading to explain that real bears did not live in houses, however, and would not eat porridge unless supplied by an errant picnicker. Guinevere listened to the book and studied the pictures intently, while Kotatsu read it, pointing out what was what. It was one of those books with a moral at the end, the type that was vague. Such as 'Do not upset bears by wandering into their houses, stealing, and committing acts of vandalism.' The herald enjoyed it, as she could forget about herself and briefly focus on something else. Kotatsu obliged the girl, making deep bear voices and clear child voices until the book was done. "Should I try to find more?" Guinevere nodded. "Please." Kotatsu nodded obediently, left the book on Guinevere's trunk-nightstand and left.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu May 18, 2006 12:43 pm
Exploring
Guinevere was asleep on the bed.
But that wasn't quite right, was it? Her eyes were closed, her breathing was slow, but she wasn't drifting in the sweet ocean or restfulness. She was listening to the drumming of the rain on the roof. It made her feel warm and safe and she was happy the noise was there. Getting off the bed, she was happier still to see the raindrops outside. The soft grey clouds and the rain made everything look prettier. She sighed, liking the soft sound against the pitpat of the water falling from the heavens.
Rain, however, could only be amusing for so long. Soon the Herald bored of it. She sat on the bed, wondering what on Earth there was to do in this house. She could always talk to Pucci. Because of course, talking and waiting for a response which would invariably be 'meow' was oodles of fun. Kotatsu was off fixing up the house and no matter how bored Guinevere was she would never willingly clean. (This was a trait common in many young people/kittens/sentient life forms and invariably ended up reaching the point where it was either clean your room or be unable to open the door to leave it for all the mess.) She drummed her fingers on the wooden bedpost.
A while later, it came to her. She could always explore! She hadn't seen very much of her new abode, and Kotatsu had never given her the grand tour. But that was considering that any tour of this place could be called 'grand' while keeping a straight face. The house was only barely teetering on the borders of cottagedom and only the attic kept it from its decline towards nook. It had two stories not including Guinevere's attic room and the bottom floor had only a kitchen and a living room. The top floor had a bedroom and a bathroom and squeezed between these was a linen closet. The young herald had seen all these rooms but not yet really observed them. She looked in her big wooden dresser, which was mostly empty but for her gift from Sarielle and some things from Kotatsu, and pulled out a candle. The concept, from what she'd seen of them around the house, was that the end lit up. She had observed how Kotatsu had turned on a flashlight once and, assuming the concept was the same, the next fifteen minutes was spent looking for the candle's 'on' switch.
After the unproductive rendezvous with the candle and the fiddling with its workings, Guinevere gave up on bringing anything with her to explore except for Pucci. And with Pucci she could only call to him and hope that he followed. Guinevere opened the door of her room and left into the rest of the house.
It was all pretty boring in the living room. Guinevere could have expected the decorations from Kotatsu, mostly soft blankets and old furniture. The prevailing patterns seemed to be blue calico. Things certainly had a secondhand look, furniture you couldn't imagine to be new, it looked like it was made old. There was a big hole in the living room surrounded by rock flooring and a rocky bit of the wall popping out to accommodate it, which was different from the dark wood floors and plaster walls in the rest of the house. Looking up the hole, she saw it led to a rock tunnel which peeped out of the roof. Next to it was a pile of small pieces of wood, about as long as the Herald's arm. This puzzled her, but she asked Kotatsu, who was in the middle of cleaning the kitchen. The guardian said it was a fireplace. When Guinevere asked how you turned it on, Kotatsu laughed and said she'd show her when she was older. Annoyed, the Herald left to search the bathroom.
The bathroom was, well, a bathroom. Kotatsu had explained it to her in case she didn't get it, and it was for taking baths and suchlike. Hence the name. Stepping up on a footstool Kotatsu had placed in front of the sink, Guinevere looked in the mirror, smiling widely to see how she looked before hopping off the stool. Next was Kotatsu bedroom.
Feeling like she was intruding, Guinevere stepped quietly into the bedroom and felt disappointed. There should have been something. She didn't know, a long dark cloak, or a skellington perhaps. Instead it was just a bedroom, full of furniture that seemed newer than the rest and bigger too, like it was made for a larger house. She realized it must come from Kotatsu's old house. Well it certainly was pink. There were stuffed animals everywhere, too. She sat on the bed, which had a pink canopy and looked around. It was girly. She noticed a few pictures on the dresser and looked at them, but they were boring pictures with boring people in them. One of the people was in an odd outfit. It was black and white with a red bowtie and looked different from the other clothes. But it wasn't so interesting as to be fascinating. Guinevere looked under the bed, but there were only some boxes of furniture that wouldn't fit in the house. In the closet there were clothes like one of the girls in the picture was wearing, who, come to think of it, looked a lot like Kotatsu. It was a boring bedroom, so Guinevere departed.
The last room she felt nervous about. This was irrational, but it was the linen closet. There was a cat door there and Pucci slept in it. It seemed dark and closetesque, full of all the horrors of childhood. Guinevere lost her nerve and left, returning only later with a large book to hit whatever came out. The door creaked open as Guinevere turned the knob with a trembling hand and...
Like all the other rooms, it was anticlimactic. It had towels and linens and a cat bed on the floor where Pucci must sleep. There was a little grey thing in his bed, which she prodded and recoiled from quickly. Whatever it was, it used to be alive. On the floor next to the bed, there was another picture of a black-haired girl, but that was probably because there was nowhere in the house to put the thing, or perhaps she was a cousin who Kotatsu was out of favor with. Pucci trotted into the hallway and hissed at the pale child, so Guinevere took the hint and left for her room.
Looking around at her room, she realized she hadn't officially explored it yet. She had lived in it, existed there, but not nosed about properly. She looked at the furniture carefully and it looked the same as it always had. The mirror was just a mirror, front and behind, and it stood grandly on the floor with its oval wooden frame. The ceiling was low and the rafters were wooden. The floor was lighter in colour than the rest of the house. The dresser was a small one that conspired to look large, ornate with carvings. And the bet was just a soft bed with a quilt and a few blankets. There was a small closet which was not scary at all. The walls were covered in off-white wallpaper with tiny flowers on them. The entire room smelled slightly musty and disused. All in all, it was a room meant to look cozy. Guinevere remembered the trunk she used as a nightstand and tried to open it. To her surprise, it was unlocked. But inside there was just a black dress, far too long for her, but it would certainly fit Kotatsu. It was probably hers. The smooth black fabric reminded her of moonlit nights and mystery. And of Aaron. Said her inner voice, a squeak in her head. Yes, and of Aaron. All black and cool to the touch like him. She leaned over and, feeling like a vandal, tore off a strip of the dress to keep for herself. She sat on the floor and rubbed it against her cheek absentmindedly while outside the rain fell ever on.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat May 20, 2006 4:38 pm
The Storm
Guinevere woke up with a jolt. It was not spontaneous, but caused by the loud noise like giant footsteps coming every few minutes. She listened to the sounds of the night but heard only the drumming of rain on the roof. She was about to lie down again when the flash came. Light filled the room, edging it in a sharp white-blue for less than half a second. She jumped up and ran to the window, a boom resonating through the house as her feet landed on the wood floor of the attic. Looking outside the window, she at first saw nothing but the landscape, then another brilliant flash. What on earth caused it? She was ready for the next light and saw, gasping, that a column of the bright stuff descended from the clouds and onto the earth. It was beautiful. Guinevere rushed downstairs, not bothering to sneak past Kotatsu's room but instead thumping like an elephant. She had to see this more closely.
The Herald rushed downstairs, waking up Pucci who began to yowl. She practically flew past him and into the living room, where she skidded to a stop in front of the coat rack, pulling Kotatsu's too-large rain-repelling coat on. She put on her shoes, trying to tie them up twice before leaving it be. And then Guinevere opened the door.
"Guinevere!" Kotatsu was running down the stairs in her nightgown, looking alarmed. "Don't open that!" She rushed over and shut the door, holding the doorknob for a while after and breathing heavily, as if she had just run a marathon. The girl looked at the guardian oddly. "I know it's past my bedtime, but I wanted to play in the light!" There was a pleading in her voice. It was no time for annoyance, the sooner Kotatsu let her outside, the sooner she could see this up close. Kotatsu sunk to the floor and rubbed her temples. "Oh, Guinevere, I should have explained. That's lightning. It's dangerous! One bolt of it hitting you could fry you, Guinevere! I-I don't want you dead." She was shaking, the Herald noticed. Guinevere was shaking slightly too. Dead? She could hardly believe it and wouldn't if Kotatsu had ever lied to her before. The guardian didn't seem the type to use lies to control children. Kotatsu rose slowly, like her bones were made of lead. "L-let's get back to bed, please. Don't go outside." Guinevere nodded mutely, for once not bothering to consider disobeying. She climbed up the stairs much more slowly than when she'd descended them. Pucci stopped yowling as she passed. Kotatsu was still downstairs, making a cup of tea to calm her nerves. The pale child opened her attic room door and sat on the bed, still trembling slightly.
"Here." Kotatsu handed the Herald a mug half full of light brown liquid. "Be careful not to spill." Guinevere took it and looked at it suspiciously. "It's hot chocolate. Well, lukewarm chocolate." Kotatsu explained. Taking a sip, Guinevere savored the drink. "It's good." she admitted, having another sip and getting chocolate around her mouth. She looked at Kotatsu with large blue eyes. "Tell me next time. Don't forget." It was an almost ludicrously serious tone from such a small girl, but Kotatsu bowed her head in acquiescence. "I'm sorry, I will." The guardian patted Guinevere's white hair. "After you're done that you can leave the mug on the trunk for now. Please get some sleep, it's far past your bedtime." Guinevere shied away from the pat, but finished her drink after Kotatsu left, tucking herself under the quilt of her bed and heading towards the shores of slumber.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue May 30, 2006 3:23 pm
The Cat
Guinevere looked at Pucci critically. He looked at her as well, with an air of offended -or offensive, it was unclear which- haughtiness. She was, like many children, quite fascinated by the furry creature. She prodded him and his tail flicked. It was cute. Everything about him was cute, which was presumably why Kotatsu kept the evil little fellow, fed him, and waited on him. The girl's smooth, pale hand petted his head gently and something that might have been a purr emnated from the creature.
The thing was, purrs and growls sounded so similar.
She sucked her finger and Pucci unsheathed his claws. He had hurt her! Looking at him angrily, she said "Why, you bad cat!" That was as far as she got, for he was contriving to look injured at this statement. Figuring you could not reason with a cat, Guinevere went to the bathroom to wash the cut like Kotatsu said she should, and then put a band-aid on it on the assumption that band-aids made everything feel better. The cat watched her go.
She wasn't gone long, and later she was petting him again. As cats went he was more intelligent than affectionate. There were rocks more affectionate than Pucci. He looked at her blankly and she looked at him admiringly. She was sore over the fact that he would purr for Kotatsu though. He also rubbed up against her once. Kotatsu said this was because he had known her longer, but Guinevere wanted the cat to like her NOW. "Why don't you purr?" she asked the cat, gazing at him sternly. "You're supposed to purr." He yawned at her, giving off a whiff of breath that smelled strongly of, well, cat. "Ewwwww." She pulled back. "Cats are supposed to be helpful, clever, and wonderful like Puss in Boots." Apparently, Pucci had missed the memo. But then again, he had yowled during that thunderstorm incident. "Well, I'll forgive you this once." said the Herald grudgingly. "But next time I want to hear purring." Pucci blinked in what Guinevere hoped was an affirming manner. "You practice that." she commanded haughtily before sauntering out of the living room.
The look Pucci shot her made her pop her head back in to add something that had been missing from the request. "Please?" Pucci purred.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue May 30, 2006 4:48 pm
Kotatsu reflects
Kotatsu looked around furtively in the small kitchen of her house, even though Pucci and Guinevere were in the living room, then sat on the counter. It was a bad impression for Guinevere to have, after all. You shouldn't sit on counters cos they weren't for sitting on!
She had to admit, she had been shaken by the thunderstorm incident. Who wouldn't? But she had also realized something. Children didn't come knowing everything. They had instincts. They had fear. But they didn't KNOW things. She sighed. It wasn't like she wouldn't be good with children. It was just that up until a very short while ago, she had been extremely childlike. Looking back, she realized all her life she had needed someone to support her, to watch her, to catch her when she fell. A parent figure or maybe a little more. Someone who loved her. This was her first time being independent and she wasn't REALLY independent either, living off an allowance from her mother. It could be worse, but it wasn't only Guinevere who was feeling out of sorts.
Kotatsu tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. She knew she needed to give Guinevere an education, buy her a wardrobe, do all the things she had done for her as a child. If only she could remember more! The stories seemed to be going well, at least. One before bed every night was a must for Kotatsu, who knew that this was her only foothold on the slippery slope of child education. She knew that Guinevere was learning from life. Living was the strictest teacher. Be that as it was, living wouldn't teach you math and science. Perhaps she should send away for books? Maybe...
This resolved for now, Kotatsu focused on the other issues in the household. She still needed to work on repairing it, toughing it up. It was a house in disrepair. She had tackled it earlier and made it liveable, but she didn't know how to fix it next. She had picked up what she could from a home improvement show recieved on the small black and white TV in her bedroom. Huh. A few years ago, she'd never dream of watching a home improvement show. It just proved that life had plenty of unexpected twists and turns.
Guinevere came into the room. Usually the girl didn't bother to seek out Kotatsu, but she obviously had something important to say. "Pucci purred at me." she said in a voice that expected praise and possibly a fanfare of trumpets. Kotatsu smiled. "Wonderful! He must be getting to like you." Guinevere nodded and one of those awkward silences came upon the two, where everyone had run out of things to say and were racking their brains for some other topic or an escape from the conversation. "Well..." said Kotatsu to fill the silence. "Well, I'd better go see him again." said Guinevere, using an escape card. Kotatsu waved and watched the pale child leave, calling "Pucci!" It was worth it, she decided. The troubles were worth having another being in the house.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Jun 25, 2006 7:23 am
Witchcraft
Guinevere sat on the grass, eyes half closed. Pucci nudged up against her, checking to see if she was still there. She looked at him briefly then tuned out again. She was daydreaming and didn’t want to wake up. Oh, please no! Daydreaming was too much fun to be woken up by the cat. She shut her eyes completely, small body being warmed by the sun shining in the summer sky. The grass, in need of mowing, waved around her like Pucci’s tail would and whispered into the wind.
She remembered the book last night. It was amazing! It was about witches, these girls who flew on brooms and cast spells for cleaning the house and things. They had a spell for everything and wore the most amazing outfits Guinevere had ever seen. She rubbed the torn ribbon of black silk she had found in the upstairs trunk. She had taken to tying it around her arm and rubbed it when she was thinking. It slipped through her fingers and she sighed. Yes, that’s what those witches’ dresses would feel like. They were all black and ragged and looked so… mysterious. And they wore silver jewelry, too. They also had cats, coal black ones with yellow eyes. She had thought Pucci was cute, but compared to those cats he was a mole on the face of humanity, his unsuitable black and white fur and blue eyes standing out and cursing him to a life free of joyriding on broomsticks. Witches, she thought, were so lucky.
Not that she wasn’t grateful to look mysterious. Kotatsu had said she did after she finished reading the book and Guinevere was quite proud of that. Now if only she had hair black as coal and eyes bright and mysterious as moonfire… She smiled. Getting up, she looked at her dress. It was white and rather plain, which annoyed her. Proper witch dresses were black and lacy with silver patterns. Seeing as she had a lack of such clothing and it was doubtful Kotatsu could afford it, she decided she’d just have to pretend. She looked at Pucci. He sensed a plot and scrambled to get away but she grabbed him and went indoors.
Later, a reluctant black cat glared at her with his blue eyes from near the fireplace. Pucci, covered in soot, was very, very, annoyed. Guinevere either didn’t notice or didn’t care. All her thoughts were on proper witchery. Looking at him, she decided there was nothing she could do to make the eyes yellow. Apparently she’d have to do a lot of pretending to be a witch. Grabbing Pucci again and getting her white dress all sooty from doing so, she grabbed a broom from the corner. Then she grabbed a hat that couldn’t be called pointy while keeping a straight face, but that’s what imagination was for. Next she went outside.
Pucci was holding onto the broom for dear life, eyes wide in terror. Guinevere delightedly felt her hair stream in the air and waved her feet, no longer chained to the ground. Then she landed and jumped again, hopping around like a deranged rabbit with cleaning problems. “Isn’t flying fun?” she asked the ‘black’ cat on the broom. Pucci didn’t say anything but merely clutched tighter. Guinevere laughed and continued to hop around. In the privacy of the mind though, she flew upon a slender broom, draped in black with a cat sneering at passersby as she glided through the velvet night.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jun 28, 2006 4:42 pm
Worries and a Decision
Kotatsu was washing dishes in the sink, soapy water all over. She was thinking and washing the dishes was just something to keep her hands occupied while her mind was up and running. She stared out the kitchen window until her eyes widened and her hand shot out sharply, for she had cut herself. Nice one Kotatsu. Real smooth. She went to wash and bandage the cut, then sat down in the living room to think some more. Her eyes were full of worry and her mind ticked on.
Contrary to what Guinevere might say about her, Kotatsu wasn’t as foggy and useless as she seemed. Granted she was quite useless and her helpfulness wasn’t so helpful as it could be, she was still a woman capable of raising a child. Raising a Herald, however, was a bit harder. And Kotatsu wasn’t quite aware of what Guinevere was.
Obviously Kotatsu knew Guinevere was… odd. This whole place seemed odd, the town, the people, Guinevere’s former guardian. Kotatsu needed to take a trip into town and find someone who knew about this, just to talk to. But what was she going to do? Get there and carry around a sign that said ‘Have a winged kid? Let’s talk!’ She’d seem daft. And it would be rude to just go up and ask… But she wanted to be a good guardian so badly!
The truth was she was worried again. Sarielle had said there might be things she might not understand about Guinevere and Kotatsu wanted to make sure that she understood. What if she did something wrong and put the child in danger? The thought inflated her worrying like a balloon. In the background she could hear Guinevere laughing outside, play-flying a broom, the girl’s giggles contrasting wildly with Kotatsu’s doom and gloom forecasts.
Guinevere hopped into the living room, feet dirty from her ‘flying.’ Pucci, looking rather stiff, slid off the broom and fled while the jumping briefly stopped. Looking at Kotatsu, Guinevere said “I need a black dress, a cape, a pointy hat, and mystic jewelry.” in a commanding tone. Kotatsu looked back. “Well, the black dress I can supply when we go into town, I think...” The guardian was resolute. She had things to do and worries to reassure, so she would go to town. Maybe. If she worked up enough courage.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jul 31, 2006 1:37 pm
Black Hair
Guinevere got up, squinting in the bright morning sunlight filtering through the attic window. Where was she? Oh yes... The masquerade had finished and the kid had been found. She didn't remember much about that, her attention had been on the mystical looking guy next to the girl. He had fo be some sort of wizard or demon or something. He was so amazing! Guinevere felt mildly depressed. She could never be as dark and mystical looking as that... She'd never be a proper witch, it was because of these accursed angelic strands of snow white hair...
Black hair.
She got out of bed and grabbed a handful trailing over her shoulder.
Black hair.
It was long and dark, lovely and mysterious.
Blackhairblackhairblackhairblackhair!
Her hands shook and she let out a high-pitched scream, one single word that made the birds fly out of the trees outside and woke up everybody in the house.
"YES!"
She stomped down the attic steps and to the top floor where she dashed to the bathroom and stared into the mirror. She was sure it was magic. It had to be! She felt mystical and important, running her fingers through it happily. She wasn't alone for long, as Kotatsu ran into the bathroom, followed by Pucci. "What's wrong, Guinevere?!" she gasped. Then she stared. "Guinevere, you didn't dye your hair, did you?" The child scoffed. "We'd never have enough dye." she said, thinking of the only artificial colouring she knew, the kind you could use on food. "I woke up and it was like this. It's MAGIC." Kotatsu frowned. "Magic isn't real." Guinevere looked at her scornfully. "Of course it is. Don't be so silly." Kotatsu opened her mouth to protest, but Guinevere held up a hand. She looked down at her white dress. It was quite unsatisfactory for her new hair. "You said you'd get me a black dress!" she said accusingly. Kotatsu gasped. "Oh, and I did!" Forgetting about magic for now, Kotatsu went into her room and came out with a small bag. She left it in the bathroom, saying "Come out when you've changed so I can see. Guinevere looked at Pucci, still sitting there. He had been slightly affronted that Guinevere and Kotatsu had left him all alone during the masquerade and this was the most she had seen of him since she got home. She waved a hand at him. "You're a BOY cat, you can't watch me change." Pucci gave a cat sneer and she shooed him out. Closing the door, she slipped the dress over her head and then put her bare feet into the black shoes, something which felt rather odd to her after being barefoot so long. She looked in the mirror again and said "Oh!" in a soft voice. Now THAT was more like it. THAT was mystical. She came out and Kotatsu applauded. "You look lovely!" she said. Getting out a ribbon, Kotatsu pulled up Guinevere's hair into a ponytail and tied it. "There." she said, satisfied. "That's gorgeous."
For once, Guinevere agreed.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Aug 26, 2006 6:41 am
Herald 8.5.06
Your Herald is now a child with a personality all her own. Except for the wings, it's almost easy to forget that she was once an angel, isn't it? Even she seems to have forgotten. But the past hasn't forgotten her...
Your Herald has been dredging up odd bits and phrases from some hidden corner of the mind.
What are the words? What do they mean, and how does this fragment of memory return?
Blood! She clutched her nose and then opened her shaking hands. They were splattered with small splotches of this nose-blood now as well. She could smell it, the sharp metallic tang of...
Blood. Scissors and stone.
What? Guinevere clutched her head. What scissors? Not her wings? She reached out and felt them, smearing a blood stain on a single purple ribbon. But her hand clutched the white feathers reassuringly, blood free besides the mess on her hands. She sighed a sigh of relief. Maybe she was just tired. Getting into bed, Guinevere closed her eyes. Eventually, she pulled the blankets over her head uneasily.
She didn't want anything to notice her.
"Nnnn..." Guinevere opened her eyes groggily. It was early, early in the morning but still she could smell the sound of bacon burning, which meant Kotatsu was making breakfast, so she went downstairs to wash her face and eat. Today would be better. No more odd words.
Kotatsu noticed nothing wrong at all with Guinevere. Serving up the food, (Which was always burnt.) she said good morning. "And how was your sleep? Any interesting dreams?" Guinevere ignored her. She wouldn't tell Kotatsu about the thoughts, knowing the woman she'd make a fuss. Crunching on her bacon, she said "When does snow happen?" Kotatsu looked up from her own meal. "Not for a few months, why?" Guinevere shrugged and went back to eating. "Guinevere, you have some sort of stain on one of your wings." Kotatsu said concernedly. Guinevere grabbed around her wing to look and brought up the purple ribbon from before. "Bloody nose." she said carelessly.
The jolts of pain, her emotional suffering becoming my physical torment as the blades slammed into the rock...
"Ngh!" Guinevere clenched her teeth as her body shook. for a brief moment. Kotatsu looked up. "Guinevere?" she asked worriedly. "Burnt my tongue!" Guinevere yelled and ran up to her room. Kotatsu watched her go, then gasped with realization. "Wait! You forgot to ask to be excused!"
Guinevere sat on her bed. The thought had been so full of hurt. It was faded, but there firmly etched into her brain. These odd thoughts... Had been like memories she didn't have to think about to remember. But the most pain she had ever felt was when Aaron left, seconded by the growing of her scissorblade wings. What were these awful recollections?
Guinevere didn't come down again that day, though Kotatsu knocked on the attic door more than once. She stuck her tongue out at it. Kotatsu wouldn't understand. She wouldn't let her in and just make her feel worse about these instances. Kotatsu would only make her worry more.
"Please... Why won't you take them...?"
I don't want to hurt... The wounds they represent...
There was another one... They had been occuring on and off. Flashes of words, the crisp air that came with snow. Cold stone sensations. Brief. Confusing. Guinvere reached out and grabbed at the air, at dust motes. Why wouldn't she take what? What had ever hurt...
Slowly she reached to her back and felt her wings.
Scissors and stone. Could it be?
"...I'm so sorry that the gift has so much violence behind it...... But I'm trying to give that part of my past up... to let it go... and maybe I can put it to better use... if I can save you...."
Fine. From your past to my future... We shall start afresh.
The beginning of a new life. Guinevere sat up and looked guiltily at the door. Was this a signal? That as she had started a new life with Vincira so should she start one again? Kotatsu had said something similar to her once before. Had her memories of the sacrifice been triggered by not just her blood but her refusal to adapt to her new life? The fact she was even alive at all right now had been because of someone's desire to move on from the past. Maybe it was time for her to move on too. Opening the door, she saw Kotatsu standing outside it, getting ready to knock again. Kotatsu opened her mouth, but Guinevere beat her to it. "Let's talk." she said firmly.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Nov 22, 2006 5:05 am
Herald 10.4.06
Already, your Herald has gone through many experiences. Her time with you has begun to shape and mold the child. Yet, there are many experiences to be had.
Your Herald has been asked to do something not yet asked of it before. She isn't sure how to go about the task.
What is the task? How does your Herald go about to accomplish it? Does she come to you for help or does she try to do it alone? How does your Herald react to such a difficult task?
Guinevere took the book over to the bed. It had big gold lettering and thank to Kotatsu she could read the print. It said 'Science' on it. All she knew of this mysterious 'Science' was that mad scientists used it and that it sounded like it was spelled 'syense'. Kotatsu had mentioned it offhandedly today, saying that Guinevere should look at a book about it sometime and handing Guinevere a slim paperback volume. Well, Guinevere wouldn't stand for THAT. If she was going to examine this 'Science', she was going to use a classy book. This was the cause for her secrecy. Opening the heavy book, she looked at the first page.
An hour later, she was on the fourth page. What was all this stuff?! She couldn't understand half of it. Almost wishing she had taken the slim beginner's volume, Guinevere looked up 'atom' in the dictionary, having looked up most of the words on the page already. It was stil really confusing even with the dictionary's help. Pucci looked over her shoulder and promptly sat on her as encouragment. She read on.
At eight in the morning, she woke up from the sunlight streaming through her window. With a sleepy moan, she looked at the open book she had fallen asleep on. She still didn't understand much of it at all. Sighing, she got off from her bed and put it in her drawer. "Kotatsu, where's that book you showed me?" she called downstairs. Maybe starting at the beginning wasn't so demeaning after all.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jul 11, 2008 6:29 am
Handwriting
Guinevere sat on her quilted bed, looking at the ceiling. Cobwebs were forming in the rafters, and she liked them. Cobwebs thin as a child's breath. She thought for a while, and then took out the book she had bought with her pocket money. It was blank and had a black cover with stars on it. She could write about spells and her thoughts and stuff in here, she had been informed by the shop owner aftr careful questioning. She had another book, she knew. But that one was old as she was and she didn't want to ruin it by writing in it. It stood for so much of her old life, before Kotatsu, before the attic room, before everything, how could she taint it by writing of her new one? She knew, anyway, that a record of her life was kept in there. This book didn't have to be anything so serious. It had no memories attached, so she was free to fill it with any sort of nonsense. She opened it up. What spell should she write first? She decided to start with ones that had exploded when she tried them and work her way up from there. She started writing, then stopped. How ugly her handwriting was! Witches were supposed to have spidery, elegant handwriting. She would need to learn. Making a note of it, she pushed the book aside and ran downstairs to her bike. Where better to start than the library?
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
