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 Posted: Fri Dec 04, 2009 9:08 am
pepper jayoku Pepper was skulking about the facility, that wasn't unusual the fact though he wasn't chasing technicians was a bit strange. He seemed muted as if he was thinking pretty heavily. And for Pepper that was a lot of effort he didnt like thinking things over too much. It made his head hurt. But...ever since he went out with Dane that one time...he...well he really wanted to see more of theoutside world but he dared not leave. Vampy had gotten really mad the last time. He had been forced to work hard to try and earn some respite from the man. Still he wondered where Luthor was...he missed his best friend. He missed a lot of people... Smerdle Ford had decided he was not a fan of love. It made people stupid. For instance, if his dad hadn't insisted he was in love and needed "Adult Time" to himself, Ford wouldn't be wandering the halls of the facility he had been born in, looking for something, anything, to do. Where were Riulve and Wynni and Puck? He had met them here, hadn't he? All he saw now were what seemed like hundreds of cold hallways lined with doors he was afraid to enter. Gone were his wing-folding and tail-feather-mauling nervous twitches, but that didn't mean he still wasn't nervous inside. He had read somewhere that the best way to get out of a maze was to stick to one wall until the lack of possible ways to go led you out. At the next intersection he turned right, but it looked no different to him than the hall he had just been in. jayoku Pepper's ears twitched as he heard...footsteps. Another white coat? He turned his golden eyes towards the direction of the sound, no..it wasn't quite the same. Most of the techs here has a brisk walk, as if they were impatient and wanted to get from point A to point B as quickly as possible. Turning around he dropped into a crouch, it he had a tail it would probably be lashing right now...eager to pounce at whomever was in his domain. He's wait until he turned the corner he decided. Yes...just in case it was an angel or annoying demon that was walking through. He didn't want to hurt them. Smerdle Ford's hand beat his body around the next corner in an unconscious effort to protect him from whatever might be lurking in the shadows. As he ventured deeper into the facility, things became creepier and creepier. He swallowed, trying to quell his dry mouth, and kept walking forward, oblivious to Pepper's presence. jayoku Pepper skulked ever closer to Ford, as he was becoming more and more intrigued as the boy didn't seem to notice he was being followed. And the way he was beating the air around him...what was happening? Was he being attacked by some invisible opponent? It made him frown. What if...the wraiths were able to come here now? THe idea struck a chord in him..he really didn't like the idea of the wraiths moving about freely just like that. So he changed his mind mid-stride, he wasn't going to pounce this one, he would protect it. "Hey.." He called out as he stood and then leaned against the wall, "You lost or something?" Smerdle Ford swallowed his surprised gasp, then grinned shakily, amazed that he had managed not to sound completely afraid. Back straight, confident. "Um... hi. Yeah, lost." He eyed the other boy's mottled skin and sharp teeth and the apparent ease he had in these creepy halls. "Do you live here?" jayoku Pepper nodded his head in a jerky manner. "Yeah, why are you wandering around here though?" He inquired as he moved a couple steps closer to the boy in order to inspect him closer. He found the other child rather interesting. Veeeery interesting actually. Smerdle "I...uh." He stopped talking for a second to collect his thoughts. "My dad dropped me off. He's on a date with his new girlfriend." Ford couldn't help scowling at that. "I think he figured it was safe? Since I came from here." His tail feathers poofed a bit and he unconsciously smoothed them with a hand.
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Posted: Fri Dec 04, 2009 9:25 am
skill two: guitar
Most weekends at the Eliot house were just like this one: quiet, stable, uneventful. Ford would sleep until noon then arise to a cup of warm water and an hour's leisure on the porch. Before the porch, before they had moved to their comparatively huge two-story house, this hour had been spent on the roof of the apartment building they lived in. If asked, Ford wouldn't have been able to tell what he did on the roof or the porch. He just... was. Sloth.
Today, the routine bothered him.
Ever since he had met Llewelyn, the DNA donor of his sin half, he had been forced to come to terms with the fact that maybe the life of an extrovert wasn't for him. He had secretly relished the opportunity to hone his public speaking skill, even as he had quaked in his sneakers, but it appeared that wasn't meant to be. No matter how nice the Drunhild family was, Ford didn't think his class had worked out all that well. The spawn was just uncomfortable.
Sander had insisted it would pass, that everyone Ford's age felt out of place, but the explanation felt insincere. Why shouldn't he feel as though he fit in, that he was more than the sum of the weird biological parts he had been constructed from. Edes certainly seemed all right with the whole thing. Maybe he just needed a hobby, something to bond with others over. But what?
"What's up, kid?"
Ford jumped a bit as his father's voice penetrated the silence. He hadn't been sitting outside today or Sander would have never even crossed paths with him. The man didn't sit around idly much and had no real use for the porch.
"Can you..." Ford looked up at Sander from his seat at the kitchen table. The connection they had so easily forged when he had been younger seemed faded now that the spawn spent more time awake than asleep. It was a shame. "Can you teach me to play the guitar?"
Sander grinned. "Yeah, yeah sure," he said. "It's not as easy as just picking the thing up and strumming though. You've gotta commit."
Ford chose to ignore the fact that his father seemed to be implying that he couldn't stick to a goal, nodding instead of arguing. "I can do that."
"I'll get you a guitar. Wait here."
About twenty minutes later, Sander and Ford sat in the sun-drenched living room, each with a guitar in his lap. The odd thing was, Ford didn't even notice the sun streaming in through his forehead jewel. He felt alert and focused instead of the lethargy one experiences after a meal.
"All right," Sander said. "You're right handed, so you keep the neck in your left hand and the pick in your right. Left, frets. Right, strumming. Like Guitar Hero at the mall."
Ford nodded. That much he had known. Sander was speaking in his Teacher's Voice, the voice he had used on countless students before. It felt odd but good to be one of them now.
They continued with the lesson until just after Ford's hand began to cramp. Amazingly enough, he had picked up a handful of chords and could play lead guitar on Smells Like Teen Spirit with a bit of effort. He was sure his father was just a good teacher - it was how he made a lot of his money, after all - but Sander insisted Ford was a natural. The morning seemed too good to be true, and it turned out it was.
"Ford?" Sander said once they had both agreed to stop the lesson.
"Mmm hmm?" Ford flexed his left hand and looked up at Sander. He knew the cramping was a normal reaction to his first time playing the guitar, but it still annoyed him.
"I was told I needed to bring you back to the facility. You need lessons in... fighting, I guess?" His father had the good sense to seem apologetic about this statement, but Ford was sure there was a way he could have gotten him out of this particular assignment. Fighting? Really? The fragile repairs made to their relationship during the guitar lesson began to crack.
"Yeah. Whatever," Ford muttered. "When do they need me to come?"
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Posted: Fri Dec 04, 2009 9:31 am
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Posted: Thu Jan 21, 2010 11:20 am
melee one: magic?
"That's it. Good," Sam said as he felt the worn wooden stool smash into his shin. That was definitely going to leave a mark, but at least the timid spawn had finally been able to demonstrate what he had been taught. One of the best ways to throw someone off guard, Sam had learned, was to throw something... at them. Even if it left them with a limp.
"I, um, did I hurt you? I'm sorry," Ford mumbled, arms folding across his chest once more. For about the millionth time that afternoon, the boy lost his momentum and focus, curling in on himself in an epic display of social discomfort.
"No, no," Sam said, trying to sound reassuring. "That's precisely what you need to do if you're ever in danger. I know you're not the type to throw a punch, but you can't let yourself be hurt if you can prevent it. Some children here have learned the hard way that others don't necessarily wish them well. I hope you never have to find that out, but you should know how to defend yourself if you ever do." Sam shifted his stance, wincing slightly as his weight fell on his quickly bruising leg.
"Mr. Ryan?"
"I'm all right, Ford," he said. "And please, call me Sam."
The boy nodded. Sam knew that despite his agreement, Ford would fall back into formality in a matter of minutes.
"Okay. Come at me again," Sam urged.
"I can't." Other children might have sounded petulant. Ford just sounded, well, finished. "I don't want to fight anymore."
Sam held back a sigh. He supposed that was all right for now. He had another session with the boy already scheduled; surely they could tackle more tame subject matter for the rest of this one. "All right, we can stop," he said. "Come. Sit here. Rest for a bit before you go." Sam gestured to a nearby wooden bench then turned a stool (the one recently responsible for maiming him) upright for himself. "So," he asked, "if you don't want to fight, what would you like to do instead?" He softened his words with a grin, hoping they didn't come off as accusatory or unkind.
Thankfully, Ford grinned back as he took the offered seat. "I don't know." He was silent for a time, looking around the room and rubbing at the knuckles of his left hand, which were likely left stinging after he had tried to lead a punch with them, despite being right-handed. Eventually he asked, "What are those?"
Sam, lulled into daydreams by the long silence, looked up, surprise evident on his face. He had been teaching. Right. Ford was gesturing at a trio of crystals resting on Sam's cluttered desk. "Those are some rocks I have a particular connection with," he said, chuckling a bit. "They help me focus my spells."
The boy brightened noticeably. "Spells?"
Sam nodded. "To be truthful, magic is where my talents really lie." The melee classes he had led with other spawn so far had proven the truth of that statement at least as far as Sam was concerned.
"Would you like to see if you also have any talent in that area?"
It was as if the sun had come out from behind a cloud. Ford's face lit up and he sat straighter on his bench. "It it's not too much trouble, Mr. Ryan?"
"Sam. And no..." Sam stood and crossed the room to his desk, rummaging around the drawer there until he found a fist-sized hunk of nearly flawless quartz. He presented it to Ford, who wrapped careful fingers around it, almost as if he was cradling a chicken egg. "It would be no trouble at all."
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Posted: Thu Jan 21, 2010 11:21 am
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Posted: Thu Jan 21, 2010 11:23 am
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Posted: Thu Jan 21, 2010 2:28 pm
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Posted: Sun Mar 14, 2010 7:19 pm
spiritual one: gems
Ford felt sort of silly. He sat precariously on the lidded toilet, eyes fixed on the quartz perched on the edge of the sink. It turned out that attempting to practice the meditative breating Sam had assigned anywhere near the sun had proven less than productive, since the steady source of food and the overall calming effect the exercises were meant to produce tended to force Ford's sloth side to the forefront. After several attempts at meditating in other locations around the house, the darkened bathroom had won out, despite its inherent discomfort. He concentrated harder, emptying his mind as best as he could. At least there was no one home right now to witness this.
Avocado Basil Clam Danish Evacuate
The object of this exercise was to think of the most obscure words he could that started with consecutive letters of the alphabet. No simple Apple, Banana or Cat here.
Franciscan Goose Helium Iris Julienne
Something... twitched. That was the only way Ford could think to describe the odd sensation he had just experienced. One of his long ears shook, the only outward sign he had felt anything at all.
Kleptomania Leverage Marzipan Neapolitan Omission
His mind slowed and abstinence pushed sloth into the shadows. Ford didn't have need of anything in this barren vista he floated through. He breathed in, out, in, out.
It was the only sound.
Pariah Quiche Realistic Scorch Tumult
He started thinking of flowers, beautiful yellow, pink and purple petals carpeting a vast meadow. He had never seen such a thing in person, but the idea seemed hopeful and inspirational. He began to sing, his voice wobbling and reedy. It would never be his best instrument, or the one most suited to bring forth his magic, and it was at that moment that he first realized that fact. Better to focus on his guitar, maybe a drum or flute. But no time to dwell on that now.
Unary Veritable Wringing Xenophobe Yam
Ford opened his eyes. He didn't remember closing them in the first place. On the edge of the sink Sam's quartz glowed as bright as the sun and flickered like an epileptic disco ball. The boy shook his head. It couldn't be that bright or he would be blind.
Zoetrope
That was the end. No more letters. As Ford stopped singing and exhaled a disappointed sigh, the landscape around him began to change. The toilet's pale porcelain melted away to reveal a sturdy brown stump, the shower head became a speckled snake and the quartz itself? Well, it disappeared. He held his breath.
Zoetrope Yam Xenophobe Wringing Veritable Unary Tumult Scorch Realistic Quiche Pariah Omission Neapolitan Marzipan Leverage Kleptomania Julienne Iris Helium Goose Franciscan Evacuate Danish Clams Basil Avocado
There was bright, all-consuming light. Then, nothing.
...
He awoke to the chipper screech of a cell phone and his first impulse was not to answer it - mostly because he recognized the ringtone as Suzanne's. The first coherent thought that passed through Ford's mind was, Wow, someone really needs to clean the floor in here, followed closely by I don't think my tail was meant to bend that way. He groaned as he pushed himself to his feet. How long had he been lying there?
"You up, darlin'?" It sounded like Suzanne was in the kitchen.
"Mmm hmm."
"What were ya doin' in there?" Suzanne's twangy voice was as irritating as her phone. He could tell she was trying to sound maternal, but he wasn't sure she was succeeding.
"Nothing."
"Your dad called from the school. He's fixin' to get some Chinese tonight. D'you want anything?"
Ford sighed, massaging his sore tail. Only Suzanne would cease to question why her boyfriend's kid was unconscious on the floor of the bathroom just because he told her he was all right. It also might have been nice if she remembered that he didn't eat. "Nope, I'm good."
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Posted: Sun Mar 14, 2010 7:22 pm
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Posted: Sun Mar 14, 2010 7:23 pm
melee two: poisons and daggers and stealth, oh my!
"I like to use a paintbrush instead of just dipping them in. It coats evenly and doesn't drip all over the kitchen counter." Sam's voice was softer than usual, most of his concentration centered around laying thin layers of poison onto a blow dart. "Darts don't have the surface area of knives, so you want to make sure you get as much on there as you can while still leaving enough clear space so you can safely handle them."
Ford wondered if the man had many of these death paintbrushes scattered around his house. What if Rhys got it into his head to start chewing on one? Knowing the little spawn, Ford didn't think it was outside the realm of possibility.
"Would you like to try?" Sam gestured toward a clean brush in the coffee can nearby. Ford shrugged and reached for his own dart.
"What if Rhys gets into these?" he asked a few minutes later, the steady motion of his painting lulling his mind-to-mouth filter to sleep. "Will he come back like Aara?"
Ford didn't notice that his mentor had stopped moving for another minute. When he looked up, Sam was looking at him but not, his mind clearly on something else. "S... sorry?" Ford said softly. "It's none of my business."
"No, that's all right. He wouldn't come back like Aara." Sam shook his head as if to rid it of something unpleasant, then his demeanor shifted back to his usual pleasant one. "Rhys and Yanya understand that they're not allowed in here. And unless I'm in here, the door is locked. Magically." He nodded. "You're doing an excellent job."
Ford gingerly set his brush back into the metal can Sam had provided for that purpose. He was still a bit flustered over bringing up what he presumed was a sensitive subject, but his teacher's compliment helped calm his nerves. "Thanks."
"Now I'll show you how to use the gun."
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Posted: Sun Mar 14, 2010 7:25 pm
ford: epic... win?
Ford had never really come up with a compelling reason why he needed a laptop, which was probably for the best since Sander didn't have the money nor inclination to get him one. Most of the time, the boy kept to himself and had no need to share his life with others, but a small part of him currently wished that wasn't true. It was 3:24 in the morning and Ford needed someone to talk to.
He had thought first of the phone, but calling Sam in the middle of the night, when he knew the man had a wife and two small children, was out of the question. At least writing up the night's events in an email might have channeled all of his excitement into the abyss of the internet while not interrupting his teacher until morning.
Ford sat on his bed, his wings flapping intermittently, staring off into space. His gaze fell upon a notebook, a notebook he had been using for school. School. With his newfound power, did he even have to go anymore? Could he just show up every couple of weeks and play something for his teachers, convincing them he had been showing up all along?
Nah, probably not.
He flopped onto his stomach, reaching across the bed and dragging the book and a pen toward him.
He wrote.
Quote: It worked. Tonight I played at Tangerine and IT WORKED. The couple sitting right in front of the stage? Three drinks apiece. The most expensive ones. The man with the umbrella in his drink? The girl scribbling in her journal? They caught sight of each other while I was doing "Love Bites" and spent the whole night after that talking. I made 208 dollars and 25 cents in tips. The manager asked me to come back. And no one carded me the whole night. Yeah, I was nervous, yeah, I feel like I've been run over by a train, but I did it. It worked. It all worked.
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Posted: Sun Mar 14, 2010 7:26 pm
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