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 Posted: Sun Mar 11, 2007 7:59 pm
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Posted: Mon Mar 12, 2007 11:29 am
__Part 23
"Oliver?"
"What."
"D'you love me?"
Oliver looked up from his paper, glancing down to Uziri. The girl looked up at him expectantly, a dandelion recently liberated from its growth in the sidewalk curb in her hands.
"No," he said.
"Why?"
"I just don't. Nothing personal."
"D'you hate me?"
"No."
"D'you hate Da?"
Oliver snorted.
"He put you up to this?"
Zee shook her head solemnly, and bit the dandelion's head off. She chewed it thoughtfully before Oliver smacked her smartly on the back of the head and she spit it out.
"I wanted to know," she said, picking petals out of her mouth. "Y'don't like anybodies."
"That's not true. I like you. Kind of."
"But y'don't love me."
"Right."
Studying a crack in the asphalt with a critical eye, Uziri rested her head in her hands and her elbows on her knees.
"Does Da love me?" she asked.
Oliver sighed. This precocious little conversation was getting stale.
"I assume so. Why d'you ask?"
" 'Cause I was watchin' the TV and it said that love's the mos' impor...im-por-tan' thing, and if you don't have anyone t' love your life stinks and you'll die alone in an alley. And then you'll be dead."
Oliver's eyebrows slowly arched up into his hairline.
"Um. I think you're taking it a little too literally. What were you watching?"
"A show Da said was about soap. But all it was was people yellin' and killin' each-other and then there was this one part where this, this guy? And this girl? They, they were in a bed and they were doing-"
Taking fast action, Oliver clamped his hand over Zee's mouth.
"I don't think you need to go into further detail. And no more soap operas for you. Ever."
Uziri blinked owlishly, and attempted to say something, but with Oliver's hand still over her mouth it came out muffled.
"Gnfgnfmmph?"
"Shh. Quiet time."
"Gnnf."
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Posted: Tue Mar 13, 2007 7:49 pm
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Posted: Fri Mar 16, 2007 5:58 am
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Posted: Fri Mar 16, 2007 2:18 pm
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Posted: Fri Mar 16, 2007 2:19 pm
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Posted: Sun Mar 18, 2007 10:37 am
__Part 28
It wasn't boredom that spurred Uziri out to wander on this particular day. It was just the simple urge to go, to move, to see things that she had never seen before, and maybe some things that she had.
Uziri was walking.
She knew she wasn't supposed to be alone. Da had told her a thousand times, 'don't go out on your own'. She knew from him, and Oliver, and the television, that there were evil people in the world, even more evil than Oliver himself, who would want to hurt her. But she didn't care. That primal self-preservation in children was latent in her, just waiting for some stranger to come and try to take her away. She was confident in her own safety, that bad things would certainly never happen to her, and if by some ridiculous event they did, she would make a clean get-away. Her mind was effused with that certainty of immortality that all children have, and she was blissful in it.
The city was in the midst of an ugly spring cold snap, and she was bundled up tight in Oliver's old canvas coat over her beloved cat-eared hoodie. For once she was wearing shoes, though the laces trailed over the slushy sidewalk. She watched her breath fog in fascination, luminous eyes following the mist's progress as it twisted and floated upward and faded away. She wondered if she was breathing out her soul, and in a sudden burst of over-imaginative panic tried to suck a fogged breath back in. She failed, and watched now in a beat of fear as the mist dissipated. Her shadow-aura twisted in anxiety behind her, reaching upwards to catch the remaining wisps. Shivering with cold and the after-effects of anxiety, Uziri cast her eyes downwards and kept walking.
It was midafternoon, two hours after the episode of fear, when Uziri came upon the woman on the stoop. She was more blankets, jackets, shawls and skirts than human, and Uziri was certain that it was a sentient pile of rags that jerked it's multi-scarved head up to look at her, reaching out with one gloved hand.
"You are alive," she said to the rag pile, looking surprised.
"So are you," the rag pile said, in a woman's creaking aged voice. "Come here."
"Da says I am not s'posed to talk to strangers."
"And where is your Da?"
Uziri shrugged.
"I am alone today," she said, scuffing at the sidewalk with her shoe.
The woman pulled a chiffon rag of a scarf away from her head, revealing a face younger than her voice.
"I can see that," the young woman with the elderly voice said. "Come here and sit a while. I won't do anything."
Uziri's surety in her immortality rose to the surface again, and she strode to the woman without fear. She sat down on the cold granite step and craned her head back to look at the woman, blatantly curious.
The look was returned.
"Such pretty eyes," the woman said. Her eyes flicked from Uziri's to the necklace of skulls, to the gently twisting and fidgeting shadow-aura sprouting from her back. "Such an odd thing."
Uziri's nose wrinkled. She wasn't Odd. She was Uziri. This woman was obviously not very bright, if she couldn't see that.
"You have a creaky-creak voice," she said in spite. "You sounds like a ole lady."
The woman laughed.
"Prickly creature," she said, laughter deep in her voice and echoing around the empty block, up into the eaves of the little stoop. In her voice was more than one tone, until it sounded as though a dozen people were all laughing, laughing...
Uziri shifted away from the woman, eyes wide. The voice was beginning to frighten her, though she hated to admit it.
"You are scary," she said, playing turtle in her stolen jacket and shifting her head into it.
"So I've been told," the woman of many voices said. "Doesn't mean anything, really. Everyone's around here has something that makes them frightening."
"I am not scary. Da says I am a pain in th' butt."
"That's not very nice."
Uziri shook her head, shifting so that she rose out from the depths of the coat.
"He say...he say he loves me, too," she said defensively. "He's nice. Oliver's th' not-nice one."
The many-voiced woman nodded, tapping a finger to her cold-chapped lips. She wet them with her tongue a second later, a coiling purplish thing that flicked in the air like a snake's before slipping back between her teeth.
"You like him?" she asked.
"Yes."
"That's sweet."
"Are you a monster?"
"Yes."
Uziri considered this frank answer.
"Are you going to eat me?"
"I could. You'd make good soup."
The woman looked down to meet the child's gaze, and laughed that echoing laugh again.
"Such frightened eyes! My dear, surely you know a joke when you hear one."
"You are a stranger," Uziri said tightly. She hated being frightened, especially by some dumb silly overdressed monster-woman. "I am leaving, an' goin' home, an'....an' you're dumb. And your tongue is icky and purple, an' not the good icky either."
She leaped off the stair and turned away, and faltered as she felt something grab her arm.
"Come, dear," the woman said regretfully. "Stay a while."
"No."
"Not even if I gave you something?"
Uziri's resolve waivered.
"Like what?" she asked suspiciously.
The hand holding the child drew back, and slipped inside layer upon layer of cloth before drawing out a small glowing thing.
"This," the monster-woman said, offering the bauble to Uziri.
Uziri took the thing, mimicking Oliver's trick of arching one eyebrow and looking dubiously unimpressed.
"It's a pickle jar," she said.
The laugh came again.
"If you say so. Look inside."
Uziri obeyed, glancing at the contents. Her eyes widened as she saw something like captive smoke whirling in a silken cloud inside, patterns of spirals and waves dancing across the slick interior.
"Is it alive?"
"In a way. It is a soul."
Uziri felt a chill, and watched a cloud of her breath rise into the air in remembrance.
"You should not keep a ghost in a pickle jar," she said reproachfully.
"I've had it a long time. It will not open. And I assure you, I've tried."
"Why are you givin' me a haunted pickle jar?"
The monster-woman eyed Uziri shrewdly.
"Because you're better suited to take care of such a thing, far better than an old woman like me," she said, rising from her stoop stiffly. There was a creaking sound as she moved, not like old bone but more like wood, and the steps she took were stiff and jolting. "You take care of that for me. Think of it as a present."
"Why?"
The woman clicked her purple tongue.
"Not every day I get visitors," she said. "Especially not from something such as you."
Uziri pigeoned her feet, still looking at the glowing bottle in her hands.
"I'm a kid."
"Yes, you'd think that, looking at yourself now," the monster-woman said, kindly. "But I think you know differently."
"What-"
Uziri looked up, and found that she was alone. The monster-woman had gone, as though she hadn't even been there. The jar in her hands glowed faintly, gleaming red where the light from Uziri's own necklace spotted on it.
"Hmph. Monsters," she huffed, irritated, as she slid the jar into her pocket.
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Posted: Sat Mar 31, 2007 12:35 pm
__Part 29
Opec had spent the vast majority of the morning sitting on the rim of his bathtub, poking at his stomach. The body part that would otherwise have been considered a belly button had first been bleeding, and now it was just doing nothing at all.
He was afraid he just might be dying.
With a whimper, legs crossed and nearly doubled over, Uziri waited patiently outside the bathroom. To her knowledge, this was the potty everyone used except Oliver, because he was a jerk and liked to hog the one in the other room, like he was doing right now. So, auxiliary potty.
Only this one wasn't available either.
"NNNGHF!"
Opec snapped from his confused mental state and peered toward the door. There was a child waiting. Which one was still up in the air, but there was one. He tugged a big t-shirt on over his head, trying to hide the enormous bloodstains all the wat down the front of his pajama pants. This clearly didn't work. He gave a small huff and unlocked and opened the door, smiling slightly to Uziri.
"Sorry, sweetheart."
Nearly crying with relief, Uziri bolted into the bathroom, threaded through Opec's legs and made a beeline for the glorious sight of the potty.
"Iss okay," she said, fumbling with her pajamas. "Didja fall in?"
She glanced over at Opec, expecting to see him sopping wet, and looked away again as all she saw was blood.
"I gotta bannaid, if you has booboo," she offered, otherwise unphased by the blood. "Well. Da has bannaids. DAAAAAAAAAAA!"
There was the sound of something shattering downstairs as Isaiah was undoubtedly badly startled.
"What?" came the distant reply.
"BANAAAAAAID!"
"No, I didn't fall in," Opec said, laughing slightly, "and thank you." The last word was cut off strangely, and he clapped a hand over his mouth. His fangs, although still folded back, had just gushed some kind of very not-venom. He rushed from the doorway to the bathroom and stumbled to a nearby garbage pail, spitting rather nervously into it. Whatever the stuff was, it was vaguely pink, and his mouth was beginning to tingle. It felt good and was also near-torturous.
What in God's name was happening...
"ZEEE! ZEE ALRI'?!" Irizu called, stumbling down the stairs and nearly toppling headfirst. Only then did she spot her father, immediately awakened.
"DA! DA, YOU OKAY?!"
"I'm fine, honey," Opec said, and then gave a rather loud cry of surprise. The tingling!
Uziri hadn't counted on there being more people in the bathroom. The potty was right there, but she just couldn't go in front of people.
"Hnnnf..."
She contented herself to look into the garbage can to look at the spit, or the puke, or whatever it was.
"Ew!" she said, utterly delighted. "Rizu, Rizu, come look!"
"Uziri, what could you have done in the last five minutes to need a holy s**t Opec, what happened!"
Isaiah stumbled into the bathroom, a box of dinosaur-printed band-aids in hand and his face going chalk white as he caught sight of Opec.
"Did she. How did. Are you alright?!"
Opec scampered from the bathroom, suddenly feeling self-conscious. His breathing had gone laboured, and he tried to not let his tongue touch any part of his mouth. That infernal tingling!
A bit of pinkish fluid dropped onto his bare foot, and it sat there, burning and tingling, until he rubbed it off. Even then, the sensation lingered.
"Nonono...I woke up like this." He swallowed the pink goo and grimaced.
"NNGH!"
Irizu scampered over to the bathroom and peered into the trashcan.
"Oooh! Looks like someone's eye went pop."
Opec gave a pained groan.
"It does," Uziri said in approval. "But it's from yer Da, so mebbe tha' ain't such a good thing."
Isaiah followed after in anxiety, discarding the box of band-aids off to the side.
"Is there anything I can do?" he asked worriedly. "A doctor I could call or something?"
"Oh," Irizu said shortly, and peered back at her father, "His eye still's there, so's it's okay."
"Any doctor I've heard of is probably dead," Opec said with a small shrug, a swallow, and a light cry, "and I don't think any around Gaia would be able to help. I feel fine, really. I'm gonna just...get changed, I think. Watch television or something." He had never watched television before without it being a side effect to joining Iz or Oliver on the couch. He felt like it, though. He felt like doing nothing. He sighed and went up the stairs, not yet noticing that his belly button was bleeding again.
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Posted: Sat Mar 31, 2007 12:49 pm
__Part 30
"DADDY DADDY WAKE UP DADDY I WANNA GO GET UP."
Opec groaned. He was being shaken awake by his daughter nearly four hours past when he usually slept. There was a dried line of pinkish goo trailing from both sides of his mouth and he sputtered around some that had pooled at the back of his throat.
For the last few days, Opec had not felt so well.
"What, honey? Daddy's tired."
"YOU PROMISED MEEEE! I ASKED IZ AND HE IGNORED MEEEEEEE."
It took the Viishani a moment to realize what, exactly, he had promised the girl. When he remembered, he groaned in distaste. Earlier in the week he'd promised Irizu that they could go and pick fruit. God knew why. She had been promised mud, buggies, and birdies, and so had been rather enthusiastic at the prospect of harvesting.
"Alright, alright. I'll get up. Just go play with Iz for a while. Tell him I'm coming down. You might want to take his headphones off before you try to talk to him again." It was a valid assumption, he figured.
"IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIZ!" Irizu shrieked as she ran from the room and down the stairs, "IIIIIIIIIIIIZZZZZZYYYYYYY!"
Iz, who over the noise of gnashing guitars could barely even hear himself think, saw Irizu rather than heard her.
"What is it?" he asked, a little louder than he intended to at first as he dragged his headphones off his ears. "Everything okay? You didn't set fire to anything, did you?"
Uziri, who'd been for once just innocently drawing on the floor in front of the couch, glared up at her Da reproachfully.
"I on'y did tha' once! Oliver said to!"
Irizu tugged at Isaiah's sleeve as if he wouldn't be able to hear her otherwise. Keep the lever pumpng and the ears still work, yes.
"Da promised we could go pickin', member? In de mud? I wanna go now. Da be down in a little while, he all gooey and went 'rrrrrgh'." The girl was clearly ecstatic.
As promised, Opec had slid from bed and gotten dressed haphazardly, and them moved to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Just as he'd finished, more goo gushed from his folded fangs. He gave a near-scream, clapped a hand over his mouth, and swallowed this stuff.
Whatever was going on, it was not cool.
"Picking...?"
Iz wracked his brain for a minute. Oh, yeah. Fruit picking. Yay.
"Alright, alright...we'll just wait until Opec comes down 'til then. Zee, why don't you let Rizu color with you."
But it was too late, Uziri had abandoned her crayons and had decided that jumping on Iz was a fantastic idea. She jumped on his lap, seizing his headphones and taking them for herself.
"Is Opec-Da still puking up the pink eye goo?" she shouted to her sister.
Irizu nodded and yelled back.
"Yeah. Iss not eye-goo, though. It makes your skin feel all funny." She had clearly assaulted her father in his sleep.
Opec emerged from the bathroom and flopped down beside Isaiah, leaning aginst him.
"Iz, I feel like s**t." He had never been one to cuss, but this seemed like an appropriate moment. Something odd stirred within him. He ignored it.
"Oooooh," Uziri said, wide-eyed. "Like melty-offy? Tha'd be bad. But neat."
Isaiah sighed, plucking Uziri off his lap and shunting her patiently onto the couch, putting an arm comfortingly around Opec instead.
"M'sorry," he said worriedly. "D'you want tea or something?"
"I can't eat. It feels funny to talk, let alone eat," Opec shrugged and sighed, "but I promised the larvae. I have to go."
"Nonono. Kinda like when your foot go 'sleep an' wakin' up."
"No," Iz said. "If you're not feelin' good, you're not feelin' good. Oliver can take them and I'll stay here with you."
"Neat....mebbe...mebbe it's like, that stuff? That, that snakes spit? An' it's killing your arm-meat!"
Uziri sounded positively excited by the prospect of flesh-destroying venom. Irizu's Da was fluffy AND dangerous!
Opec shook his head.
"Oliver would get lost and assaulted by the other survivors. God knows that's the last thing we need. I feel a little better, though. I wanna get outta the house. C'mon." He was feeling a little better...probably because he hadn't slept until 8 and been too lazy to talk to anyone.
"Nu, Da-spit make people go GLURK!" Irizu suddenly crumpled to a heap on the floor, twitched, and started to giggle hysterically.
"Yeah, probably," Isaiah said, sounding only minimally concerned. He hopped off the couch, discarding his book. "Okay then. The minute you start feeling like crap again we're gonna come home, though."
Uziri gasped loudly, watching in awe. She wanted to go glurk!
"BLARF!" she shrieked, the polar opposite of glurk. She fell to the ground like a wet rag, tongue lolling and one leg kicking in violent spasm for effect.
Opec yawned, smiling slightly at his lost support. Strings of the pin gooey stuff stuck between his upper and lower teeth. Seeing that, one could not deny that something weird was going on.
He stood then and scooped Irizu off the ground with the most energy he'd had in days and days.
"C'mon. We can go now," he smiled, and then turned to Isaiah.
"Oliver coming?"
"YAAAAAAAAAAY!" Irizu shrieked, immediately forgetting she was dead, "Zee! Zee, we go pickin' in mud now! Up, Zee-zombie, up!"
"Comin'," Iz said, hoisting the still-twitching Uziri up into his arms. She grinned up at him, curling against him like a cat.
"Imma find a wormy-apple an' you can have it," she said to her Da, privately beaming at how well he would love her generous gift.
"Er. Thanks, Zee," Iz said, setting her on her feet. "Oliver? Huh...maybe. Hey, OLIVER!"
"What?"
"Fruit-picking. Wanna come?"
"No."
"Good. Get your coat."
There was a distinct sound of cursing, but Oliver appeared anyway.
"Don't like you," he said, pushing Isaiah out of the way so that he fell back onto the couch.
Opec snerked.
"You don't have to make him come," he said, and then turned to Oliver, "You really don't have to come, you know. You can j--"
"Yes 'Liver do."
"...I stand corrected."
Opec heaved a sigh, retrieved a basket from the kitchen, and headed for the door.
"C'mon."
"If the lady insists," Oliver said, not even half as sarcastically as Isaiah had expected as he pulled on his coat and followed after Opec. He looked down to find Uziri tugging at his sleeve, expression plain.
"Alright, alright," Iz said, scooping the girl up in his arms again.
"Whee," the girl said seriously.
It took only ten minutes or so to reach the field Opec had been thinking of, and he thanked his lucky stars that it had not been obliterated in the attack. It was an expansive green-and-brown field, muddy as promised, and lines with bushes of mysteriously coloured berries.
He neglected to mention that his first ten years or early morning had been spent predominantly here, picking fruit for Master's various baked goods, which he would spend his first ten years of afternoons making.
He kicked his train of thought from the tracks and handed each of the toddler a little plastic baggy that he fully expected to come back full of mud, worms, pebbles, and possibly dead animals.
"Go crazy. Just be careful. Some of them are prickly."
Irizu gave a happy shriek as she was set on the ground, threw her sandals to the side, and pranced away happily through the mud.
"Zeeeee! Come-come!"
Opec turned to the side and spit a gob of goo to the ground.
"That's really getting annoying," he grimaced, his tongue's mad tingling sending a shiver down his spine. He placed the basket he'd been carrying on his head and slumped to his knees, heaving a sigh.
"Maybe," Opec nodded. He reached over, plucked a berry without so much as looking at it, popped it into his mouth, and sucked it of its juices. He then flopped over only Isaiah's shoulder, the basket on his head lifting up awkwardly on one side.
His ears were crushed against the wicker. It was because of this that he wasn't entirely sure that he wasn't hearing things.
A repetition of the voice dashed his doubts out.
"Hello?!" a voice was calling from a shack nearby, attached to a pair of unnaturally white feet (as that was as much as Opec could see beneath the rim of the basket), "Who's there?"
The Viishani removed the basket from his head to view the tall, white, moderately masculine Viishani standing a few good feet away.
"I'm sorry. I wasn't sure anyone still owned this place. If you want us to leave--"
"Opec?"
"...huh?!"
Oliver, munching on a handful of spiny berries without much thought to the scrapes and cuts he was gaining in his mouth, wandered back over and gave the new guy an uninterested look.
"Friend of yours?"
Iz shrugged.
"Not me. You know him, Opec?"
"...no?" Opec replied. Regardless, the man hugged him tightly. Opec stiffened, eyes wide. He wasn't entirely sure he wanted to be friendly with the man who had apparently overseen his enslavement for a decade.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" the man apologized and let the younger Viishani go, looking him over, "I should have figured you wouldn't recognize me." There was a lull in the conversation, as if the man was waiting for Opec to have a sudden epiphany. He did not.
"I'm your father."
Ah, all the things Opec had fantasized about as a child. He would meet his parents and they would take him home, and they'll all act as if nothing had ever happened. That was, of course, before he learned that neither of his parents had been slaves in the first place, therefore becoming nothing more than the people that sold him,a s far as he was concerned. There were no emotions aside from a brief flicker of excitement.
"Oh. Hi."
Isaiah had the grace to look completely thunderstruck. Oliver, mouth slightly agape, accidentally drooled out a bit of berry juice and hastily wiped it away.
"Well. Uh."
"Hmm."
This was no time for warm greetings or happy introductions. Opec was cranky, tired, and he wanted answers, damnit.
"So. Why'd you sell me?"
"We didn't, we--"
"You did. I was standing up on a podium at one. You did."
"Nonono. You're a Sixty. Were a Sixty."
"I'm well aware." There was another long pause.
"Anything past forty, and you're forced by law to sell. Were."
Regardless of this new development, Opec still felt no emotional connection to this man. Ninety-six years of seperation clearly did that to a person. He stayed silent. His father looked vaguely concerned, but upheld his flashy grin.
"Who are these fine young men? Gaians, I presume."
Opec nodded. "Isaiah an' Oliver."
Another pause.
"And you know them as..." An even longer pause, and the man was forced to clarify his question.
"How are you related?"
"It's complicated."
Another long bout of silence ensued.
Oliver was half-tempted to spin a story about an illegal drug ring with Opec as his flashy arm candy to show off to rival dealers. Isaiah was scrambling on whether or not he should have spoken up five minutes ago, and kept silent with a growing sense of embarrassment.
Taking full advantage of an opportune moment, Uziri crashed through the bushes, shoved past Oliver, and pressed a rotted berry into Isaiah's hand before taking off again.
"I looked, iss got maggots'n ever'thin'. Yer welcome," she called over her shoulder, running back into the brush to rejoin Irizu.
Isaiah cringed as he felt something wiggle in his palm, but didn't drop the fruit.
"Er. Thanks, Zee."
Opec looked to the rotted thing and wrinkled his nose in distaste.
"Whozzat?"
Opec turned back to his father (and my, was it strange to think of him that way), jettisoned from his deranged plane of thought.
"Huh?"
"The little one."
"Isaiah's girl. My daughter's twin sister."
"...what?"
"I told you it was complicated."
"I can see that now."
"DA! DA! LOOKI' WHA' I GOH!" Irizu squealed, her English damaged horribly as it generally was when she got excited. The girl held up a bag filled with mud and some little purple blotches.
"They lot easier to picks when they on d' ground! ...oh. Hi, Mister!" She scampered off as quickly as she had appeared to whisper with Zee.
Opec's father gava a warm laugh. Opec's ears folded back.
"Here," the man said, disappearing back into the small building and returning with a sack, dumping its contents into the basket in Opec's arms, "It's the least I can do."
Opec stared down at what was probably a month's worth of harvest.
"...thanks." He looked up and gave the man a weak smile, recieving quite the same. Anyone would have seen the family resemblance right then, in the freakishly white teeth and partially distended fangs.
Opec choked, turned to the corner, and spit into the ground.
"Ah, that time, is it?"
Opec arched a brow.
"Nevermind." Another pause followed, followed by what Opec considered to be a completely reasonable question.
"What's your name?"
Watching the exchange, feeling out of place, Isaiah felt a sudden swell of resentment against Oliver and punched him in the arm. Oliver jumped, startled, and met with Isaiah's sudden glare, and decided to remain silent. Someone got to have a reunion with their family, it said plainly. Uncomfortable with that old bitterness, Oliver stepped forward a little and made an attempt at civility.
"Oliver Dunn. Pleased to meet you," he said, realizing too late he should have offered his hand but then dismissing it as extra.
"Isaiah," Iz said unnecessarily.
Uziri, seizing Irizu's hand and peering up at the man with frank curiosity, remained silent, though she stuck a glowing skull-bead in her mouth and lit up one side of her face as she sucked on it like a jawbreaker.
The man blinked in curiosity, and then nodded, his grin returning.
"It's nice to know you two apart," he nodded.
"Your name."
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"I might."
"You wouldn't."
"I might."
"Frea."
"You're right. I don't."
The man laughed and tipped his head.
"I told you, see? Now, where do you think your friend got his name from?"
Oh, awesome Now he wasn't only a dead friend, but a dead brother.
"...oh." Opec sidled up closer to Isaiah, seeking comfort. "I'll call you that, then."
"Sounds fair." Another long pause. The man suddenly seized Opec by the forearms and drew him up, pressing their cheeks together in a rather affectionate gesture, as far as the Viishnu were concerned. After a moment, Opec leaned in...and then stepped back.
"I think we should be going."
"Understandable."
Irizu watched with her sister, a finger pressed thoughtfully to her chin.
Briefly wondering if things could get any more awkward, Oliver and Isaiah voted on being quiet again, both glad for the excuse to get away.
Uziri spit out the glowing bead after a time, and replaced it with a berry. She chomped down on it hard, splitting the core inside with an audible crack.
Opec gave his father...nonono. He had a name now. He gave Frea a brief smile and started off, pushing some hair away from his face and once more spitting into the soil. Strange, awkward, eerie...sure, yeah, that all worked.
...but he'd be damned if he didn't just walk away from the only person who could tell him what was wrong.
Iz, clinging to Opec's side, managed a painfully shy smile and nod in acknowledgment before his eyes flicked down to the pink spittle. Damn, but that was STILL weird. Oliver on the other hand had long since returned to his food, the civility that had spurred him into introduction having throughly exhausted him of any more effort.
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Posted: Sun Apr 01, 2007 11:59 am
__Part 31
Opec stood under a nearly painfully hot cascade of water, attempt to wash various-things-he'd-rather-not-think-about from his person. He absently noticed that he was no longer leaking obscure pink fluid, but was otherwise paying attention to nothing.
...that is, until the faces appeared on his shower wall.
The Viishani gave a strangled squeak and wrapped his tail protectively around himself.
"You don't have to do that," Littulo's left head assured him, "We kinda, you know, saw you your whole life."
Slowly, reluctantly, Opec let his tail drop.
The right head tittered.
"Isn't that sweet?" she said half-snidely. "Looks like you've been busy."
Opec's head drooped in shame.
"SHUT UP," the right head commanded the left, "Not why we're here, remember? REMEMBER?!"
The Viishani looked up again, curious.
"Ugh, so touchy" the right head said sulkily. "No need to snap. Just...making casual observation. I remember just FINE, thank you."
Snorting up a rolling blob of phlegm back into her nose, she eyed Opec with half-interest.
Opec cringed and the left head rolled its eyes.
"Look. You caught the baby."
"Huh...?" was Opec's only response.
The right head tutted impatiently.
"Do we have to spell it out? she asked, sucking idly at her teeth. "You've got a . Er. Bundle of something or other. I forget how it goes. Y'know. A thing."
"Whaaat?"
"There's a fetus. Inside you. Well, I guess it's just an egg at the moment, but it's there."
"WHAT?!"
"Yep. Surprise!"
"NO!"
"No?" the right head said slyly. "Oh, yes. Very much yes. You have fun with that."
"...but! I didn't ask for a--!"
"We need to repopulate this planet, yenno."
"But...whose is i--"
The faces were ******** style="font-size: 9px">Attentions ever keen when it came to cursing, Oliver poked his head into the bathroom and ignored any conventions of respecting Opec's privacy.
"Everything alright in here?" he asked. "Soap ain't attackin', is it?"
"OLIVER!" Opec shouted and threw the shower curtain open, "OLIVER. LITTULO SAYS I'M PREGNANT."
Head jerking back in instinctive surprise and cracking against the door, Oliver hissed a few swears of his own and stumbled into the bathroom, coming to rest to sit on the toilet.
"Um," he said, massaging the back of his head and looking at Opec with brows raised. "That's..."
Wait a minute, what the ******** is a littulo? he thought, casting his memory out for some recognition of the name.
"Pregnant?" he parroted, trying to buy himself time.
"YEAH!" Opec continued shouting, unable to control himself, "She was in the WALL and she TOLD me and the mean head LAUGHED at me and they left before I could ASK ANYTHING. Oliver, I'm not supposed to be able to make babies! Oliver, I don't WANT another baby!"
He was rambling near-incoherently but, at the moment, he had no idea how else to speak.
"Ahhh, Lit-tulo. The tri-faced b***h with the acid-leaking tits. Gotcha. Hmm. Gimme a second," Oliver said, nodding and going for the door. "Hey, Iz?"
"What? What's going on in there?"
"Situation. C'mere."
Iz peeked into the bathroom, looking as though he was expecting someone to swing an axe into his face at any moment.
"What is it?" he asked meekly.
"Opec's pregnant."
"...who in the what, now?"
Opec's eyes watered up and his lower lip began trembling. Before he could speak another word, he flung himself at Isaiah, dripping wet and naked and sobbing hysterically.
Isaiah faltered under the unexpected weight, saved from crashing only by Oliver grabbing hold of his collar and hoisting him upright again.
"Oliver, gimme a towel-"
"Mmm, but..."
"NOW, you pervert!"
Oliver sighed, and threw a towel into Isaiah's face. Draping it clumsily with one hand over Opec's shoulders, Iz shushed and comforted and gentled in sympathy.
"Hey, hey, it's alright..." he said anxiously.
"No it's not!" Opec said, pulling back from Isaiah and giving him an incredulous what-the-hell-are-you-on kind of look, "I don't want a god-baby! And even if it's NOT a god-baby, I dunno whose it is!" He clapped a hand over his mouth then, eyes going wide.
"Hmm," Oliver said, highly unhelpful. Iz cringed slightly.
"Ah," he said, unsure what else to say.
Opec, suffering a very sudden and violent moodswing, suddenly walked from the room and plopped down onto the couch, holding the towel around him.
Staring at the floor, he considered the possibilities.
It was a god-kid with three faces and an extra eye. Not cool.
It was Isaiah's and he took initiative. Slightly more cool.
It was Oliver's and the poor thing grew up without a loving father. Very, very not cool.
He heaved a sigh and placed a hand to his stomach absently.
"Well," Oliver drawled, "looks like we have a problem."
"How can you say that?" Iz asked. "It's not a problem. It's a baby."
"I see no difference. Uziri was a problem."
Iz snarled, catching Oliver off-guard.
"You leave her out of this," he said venomously. "And so help me, if you make so much as one nasty crack about the new one, I'll tear your tongue out by the root and make you choke on it."
Iz left the bathroom abruptly, following after Opec. Oliver huffed, annoyed.
"What the ******** did I say?" he called after, leaning on the door frame.
"I don't think it's yours," the rather depressed Opec said suddenly, looking up at Iz, "I really don't."
It wouldn't make sense, after all. Oliver had come first and so, logically, the thing had to be his.
"No," Iz said, regretfully agreeing. "I s'pose not. But I'll still help you with it. Honest."
He doubted Oliver would even look twice at it once the thing was born. It was loathsome, but he knew it was going to have to be expected.
Opec sighed and fell over, resting his head in Isaiah's lap.
"I didn' even think humans could breed with Viishani," he said honestly, "I know we have more chromosomes. 'S not s'posed to be possible."
"I didn't think Vampires could breed, period," Iz said. "I thought it only worked with the siring thing. Guess not."
Slinging an arm around Opec, he looked down in pure worry.
"So...what next?"
"Well," Opec began, "I guess I just--HGGGGNN." He flailed suddenly, sitting up and staring wide-eyed at Isaiah. His eyes flickered to Oliver a moment, and then back. Back, forth, back, forth.
"Uh-oh."
Iz jerked back, startled.
"What? What's wrong?"
Oliver, arms crossing and head tilting to one side, raised a brow.
"Morning sickness?" he asked, tone more concerned than condescending.
"No," Opec said, waving his hand dismissively at Oliver, "That won't happen for at least another week." He'd acting as a midwife to the other slaves. Clearly, he knew a thing or two about babies.
He also knew a fair deal about Viishani genetics.
"Well, see, the gooey stuff didn't stop 'til...just a while ago, right? We have more...and so you...I think." He took a moment to connect his thoughts.
"I think it's both of yours."
Oliver choked. Iz made a sound halfway between a gasp, a laugh and a curse. The pair exchanged looks, and astonishment flicked over both their faces.
"HOW," Oliver said, roughly brushing a hand over his hair. "Is that even possible."
"Holy crap," Iz said, looking thunderstruck.
"Well, 'coz, see," Opec tried to explain, scooting to the edge of the couch and straightening up like a mother giving her children 'the talk', "We have more chromosomes than you guys, right? And that's what picks what you look like. So...for me to have a baby, it's gotta have more DNA than one of you can give me. It's gotta be botha yours unless Iz is magical."
He looked to Oliver than and smiled.
"Good job, old man."
Iz made an 'ooooh' kind of sound, listening with child-like interest. Oliver made a huffing kind of noise and looked away, mouth twisting.
"Seventy five ain't old," he said tartly under his breath, unwontedly sensitive.
"Oh, shaddup, Oliver," Opec said as he flopped back once more, head in Isaiah's lap, "I'm older'n you and you don' have a wriggly thing inside your gut."
This was going to suck.
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Posted: Thu Apr 05, 2007 1:28 pm
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Posted: Thu Apr 05, 2007 1:29 pm
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Posted: Fri Jun 08, 2007 2:22 pm
__Part 34
Uziri didn't mean to lose Isaiah. She hadn't even planned on deserting him in her usual fashion. But here she was, all alone at night in the city, with neither Iz nor Oliver near her tearing into throats and drinking the lifeblood of innocent bystanders.
"Crud."
Scuffing her feet on the pavement of the sidewalk, Uziri wandered. She still wasn't sure how she'd gotten separated from her Da, other than the part when she'd run away from him so she could look at a dog across the street that ended up being a pile of newspapers.
"Looked like a doggy," she muttered tartly to herself, hands shoved in her pockets and her cat-eared hood resting low over her face. At least it was a warm night. She looked upwards at the stars, smiling a little. They reminded her of Taji. Or maybe Ashe - though anything vaguely shiny always did. Maybe she could look for them, and wait with them until Da came to get her. She then realized only she knew about the friends she'd made in her wanderings, and sighed.
"I wish Rizu was here," she said plaintively, head bowing. She was very lonely all of a sudden. She looked around her, up at the people milling by. She was so small, most people didn't even realize she was there. The ones that did gave her looks either of indifference or worry, both of which she ignored. She didn't want their pity - all it did was annoy her. She wanted Da. Da never pitied her. He scolded and yelled and got mad, and he told her loved her and he'd look out for her and keep her safe.
"DAAAAA!"
The cry escaped from Uziri before she could stifle it. The sound of her own frightened voice astounded her.
"DAAAAAADDYYYYY!"
It just happened twice in a row, she thought, blinking. She sounded like she was bleating. She clapped a hand to her mouth, but the frightened cries kept coming.
Da didn't show up to yell at her.
"Nnghf!"
Uziri practically collapsed onto the sidewalk, tears smarting her eyes. She hadn't been scared a moment ago, had she? She sniffled, knuckling her eyes and wishing for her sister, her Da, her pet mouse, anybody. Somebody tripped over her and landed hard on their face, but she was too distressed to laugh at them. She got up and started running at random, her hood flying back as she howled for Isaiah again.
She'd effectively tired herself out within the space of ten minutes.
Coming to a rocky halt at the mouth of an alleyway, she thought about Oliver and Da and how they liked to drag people into alleys to hide, and proceeded to bolt into it.
"WHOA! Heeeey, hey, kid, you don't wanna go in there alone."
Zee made a small 'eep!' sound as a pair of hands grabbed her and hoisted her up. She kicked, catching the stranger in the stomach but eliciting little response.
"LEMME GO OR M'DADDY'LL EAT YOU," she shrieked.
"Your daddy shouldn't be letting you wander into alleyways," the stranger said in an odd accent, shifting the child around in his grip so she could look at him. He didn't cut a very intimidating figure. He had aviator sunglasses and dreadlocks, a hooked nose and a matchstick sticking from out between his lips like a toothpick.
"I'm Darry," he said, setting her down. "What's your name? Where're your folks?"
Uziri knuckled at her eyes resentfully, a shadow-aura tendril curling around Darry's glasses and placing them on her own face.
"I'm Uziri. Don't got folks. only Da and my sister and her fuzzy-Da and Oliver but he's a dork."
"I see," Darry said, not at all perturbed by the sunglasses-thievery. "And they're...where?"
Uziri crumpled.
"I DON'T KNOOOOOOOW," she howled, crying again.
"Jeez! You gotta pair'a lungs on you, kid," Darry muttered, scooping the child into his arms again. "Alright, alright, let's getcha back to where you lost your family. Which way'd you come from?"
Uziri wiped her nose on her sleeve and looked out into the labyrinthine web of streets and shook her head, pointing obstinately upward to the waning moon.
"....you're from the moon?"
"Yes," Uziri said tightly. "No one ever b'leeve's me but it's true there's this door and it takes me to the moon and Da tol' me not to let go of his hand or else I'd get lost and someone'd kinnap an' eat me don't eaaaat meeeee!"
Realizing comforting the child would be about as feasible as making pigs fly through the use of cold fusion, Darry just held on and took to wandering the streets, looking around for equally distraught adults.
By the time an hour had ticked by and he'd been whipped twice in the face with one of the girl's weird glowy-tentacle things, Darry was starting to loose an edge of his calm.
"You're not one'a those kids I've always heard about that shows up outta no where and needs to be taken care of, are you?" he asked the girl. "Cuz I gotta tell ya, I live in a duplex and I'm almost too much people for that place."
"Already got a Da," Uziri said, shifting Darry's glasses on her face and glaring up at him through them. "Don't need another one."
"Right, right, sorry..."
"UZIRI!"
Darry jerked, startled by the sudden shout. A lanky kid barreled into him, knocking him and the child to the ground.
"Oh, s**t. s**t, I'm sorry, are you....ZEE, holy gods in heaven'n earth, where did you GO don't DO THAT TO ME."
Darry sat up, looking at the scene unfolding in front of him as parent and child both clung to each other as though they hadn't seen one another in years. His sunglasses hung askew on the child's face.
"Er. Yeah. Found her wanderin' around and...figured I oughta, y'know. Do somethin' with her," he said, noting the long fangs the boy sported. "I wasn't gonna keep her or anythin'."
"Thank you," Isaiah said, very quickly wiping away the panicked tears that had threatened to spring loose since he'd first lost Uziri.
"Whatever, no big deal," Darry said easily, reclaiming his glasses from Uziri. "I'd invest in a leash, though."
Iz snorted, grinning at Uziri's indignant look.
Darry left them to their reunion, scratching at the welt that had risen on his face from the unexpected tentacle-whip. Jeez, but he was glad he wasn't at all responsible enough to have children.
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Posted: Wed Jun 13, 2007 6:48 pm
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Posted: Fri Nov 09, 2007 7:36 pm
__Part 36
She'd been down here so long.
he's never going to let me out i've been forgotten let me out let me out
So long that she'd forgotten what it ever was outside this godforsaken room. Cut off from the world. From prey. From him. She tore into her own arm, sucking down her own blood in a wrenching, weary sort of way. Eating. Prolonging her misery.
i'll find him i'll tear him make him suffer make him squeal
Her own blood tasted foul. She didn't even really understand why she bothered, anymore. The tiny bricked-up room that had been her world for decades should have been her tomb years ago. She didn't know why she just couldn't let go and die.
because because because then he'll win i'll never let him win
She curled up in a ball in a corner of her fetid, loathsome prison, nursing the slow-healing bites on her arm and wishing a rat would stop in to visit. She liked to crunch their heads before she sucked them dry. She'd pretend each one that she'd twisted limbs off of or torn out eyes was him, him and his precious pretty meat-girl.
he should be grateful nasty b***h would have killed him eventually fool fool fool
She went to sleep, wishing for rats and cursing his name in her mad thoughts, hating him to the very marrow of her bones. She'd get out. One day. Walls could only stand for so long. And then she would make him bleed.
"Oliver..."
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