Welcome to Gaia! ::

[ Rewarding ]

He'd been accepted. He stood there, surrounded by his family, all staring at that piece of paper. His mother had been screeching that morning, waking the rest of the household, running around with the piece of mail in her hand. She kept babbling about having to call the extended family. The friends of the family. He'd put a quick stop to that... least till he saw what was actually in the overly fancy envelope.

His mother kept demanding he let her take pictures. His siblings were more intent on helping him rip open the envelope. His father was laughing his arse off at all of them. He himself? Just wanted to see the Jacking page without it being ripped apart in the process.

He was able to open it himself at least, and Aquilo counted his luck for that. With all eyes on the envelope, he ripped it open carefully. Pulled out the multiple pages that were folded neatly inside. Began to read.

He'd dropped the pages and had bolted for his room, running up the stairs to the second floor three at a time. His family down below were shouting, calling him back--he was pretty sure his mother was soon screaming anew, but he wasn't sure. He was too focused on finding his phone. Where the jack was it--aha!

Under his bed. Go figure.

He didn't bother looking at the time. He just called. Tapped his fingers repeatedly against the wall until a rather pissed off voice answered the phone. "Siku! Dude! I got accepted! I got accept-- no I don't know what time it is. I-- Ugh. No, shut up. Shut-- Siku, go suck an icicle and shut the jack up, I got accepted. Just got the letter!" Beside him, his rather bedraggled familiar was glaring at him. Seemed Siku wasn't the only one not ok with the early morning wake-up. Not that it mattered to Aquilo. He couldn't stop grinning.

Grey | Rewarding

[ Hiding ]

Ed was glaring at him. Aquilo stiffed a groan. Letting out a sound now would be a bad idea. The partridge was being held tight against his chest, trying to keep the bird comfortable... but well out of sight. He'd really pissed Vereka off this time. He'd been seeing the ghoul on and off the last few years--or at least, that's how she put it. Aquilo wasn't so sure it was something to put a label on, least in his mind.

Which was part of why they didn't last too long in that on-again thing. She saw the relationship... a tad bit differently than he did.

And thus. There he was. Hiding away under his elder sister's bed, clinging to his familiar, hoping the ghoul would take the hint and leave the house. His siblings at least seemed to not be lifting a finger to help her locate him. They knew all his hiding spots. He knew all theirs. This was the only bed set up on enough of a platform large enough for a large body to slip under--well, once they moved some of the storage boxes under it.

It was a lovely hiding spot. Provided none of his family pointed Vereka towards it. Or Ed didn't start talking. Or his stomach didn't start growling. Aquilo shut his eyes in a silent groan. He could hear her boots slamming around the various floors. This... was going to be a long day.


Partridge gasped, moving away from the water. His eyes shut, body shaking as he laughed a bit, the tail end of the memory clinging. It was... nice, seeing those moments again. Wasn't sure why the lake with voices had them tucked away in the water... but the happy thoughts were good ones. Laughing all the more, he rose to his feet and brushed off his bum. He had to find Envy. There were fragments to find, things to do.... The Mad Hatter whistled a merry little tune as he wandered away, feeling all the stronger. And totally enjoying that treasure chest he found.

3/3
Fear

Finn didn't know what to do.

He was only a teenager. Young. Trembling in the light mist of rain that came from above. A grey day, but a dark day. Shadows were creeping in on the edge of his vision, and his arms broke out in goosebumps as chills ran down his spine. One the muddy, soaked ground lay his dad. The man who he had always known as his dad even though he had been adopted. The man he respected, loved, cherished utterly.

Dead. Or dying at least. A heart attack while he had been out in the pens checking on the cows. Their farm hand had helped him back to the house before he had collapsed, and even now his mom rang her hands, fretting, panicking as the ambulance pulled into the yard, as the paramedics took over.

Finn had helped relieve George of doing chest compressions more then once before they had arrived.

It had all been for nothing though.

His dad was staring up into the rain with lifeless eyes.

Sorcha didn't even realize that she was something of a kleptomaniac; she went from want to have and wasn't aware of anything in between. It didn't help that she had only gotten better at it over the years. Her collection of trinkets and baubles had grown over the years, to the point where she didn't even know what she had anymore. She rarely wore any of it, anyway, and she generally gave her stuff as much thought as she gave anything else--which is to say, not much.

"What a lovely necklace!" A demoness exclaimed to her as they crossed paths one day.

Sorcha frowned in confusion and looked down; sure enough, she was wearing a necklace. "Oh, do you like it? You can have it, if you want," she said, unclasping it and holding it out to the other ghoul. It was yet another thing she had no attachment to beyond the superficial. It had cost her nothing to get it, and would cost her less to give away.

The other ghoul looked at her dubiously, thanking her cautiously at the un-demonlike show of generosity. Nothing came without a price, everyone knew that.

Sorcha knew, too. She just didn't care--just like she didn't care where and how she had gotten the necklace that she removed before bed that night. It was very pretty, and it looked so familiar...

talk2hand

{ loss }

The house had been so quiet, the grand halls even more lonely, and larger than before. Lights were kept snuffed, curtains drawn, a whisper of wind drifting through the vacant corridors. AncientPages would wander them by himself, the rest of his family hidden in their rooms, or far off distances of the house, away from each other, away from the world, leaving him to himself. A family member from the grand home was no longer with them, an important string to the canvas of the mighty demons. It was a strange feeling, and unnerving to the young boil, thoughts drifting to the one who had been so strong, and in command of the noble estate and family... An emptiness that could not be filled.

Sorcha wasn't a planner. She rarely thought beyond the next hour, and rarer still past the next day. She wasn't much of a plotter, either; those same things that made her the ultimate disciple of carpe diem made it difficult for her to machinate and manipulate, but her parents hoped she would come around someday. She thought, sometimes, whimsically and fancifully, notions coming and going and coming again like mist. She lived, almost always, in whatever moment she lived in.

It was probably why, whenever she was told to make a wish when she blew out the candles on her birthday cake, she always wished they would just get on with it already--that cake wouldn't eat itself, after all.