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 Posted: Tue Jan 03, 2006 9:26 pm
Smerdle
Smerdle's House, Outside Aekea, Gaia
Sunday, December 25th, 2005 | 9:34am GST
Murmuring children. There were loudly whispering children in the hall. Was it morning? It didn't feel like morning.
"She's sleeping! Shhhhhhhh," the boy said.
"Pressens," the girl piped. When no one answered her, "PRESSSENNSSSS!" It was the screech heard 'round the world.
"SHHHHHHH!"
"It's okay Sylvester, I'm up. Let's go downstairs." There was a great deal of shuffling as Smerdle got out of bed and joined them in the hall.
"Sorry Mama."
"It's all right," Smerdle said. She looked down at Brownie. The kid was making grabby hands at the air, so Smerdle picked her up. It was Christmas after all.
They made their way downstairs, Smerdle being the first to see the tree because... she was the one who had put the presents under it. Brownie was surely second to see it, if her squirming was any indication.
"All right, all right," Smerdle said, depositing the toddler on the floor next to a mid-sized box. Brownie immediately dove for it, but Smerdle was quick to stop her from opening it. "That's Sylvester's," she corrected, taking the box and putting it in front of her son. Brownie tackled the next box, looking up at Smerdle for confirmation. Seconds after she received her aunt's nod, her little teeth sank into the side of the box.
"Do you want me to help with that?" Smerdle asked, 'amused' winning over 'weirded out' for the time being. Brownie shook her head violently and the box flew off to the right, a large chunk missing from one of its sides. Something green and fluffy peeked out of the hole and Brownie crawled over to it and pulled.
"Fuh," she said.
"Here, open yours."
Sylvester ripped at the wrapping paper, a wide grin on his face.
"Economical." Smerdle smiled.
"I like it. More than she did," Sylvester said.
Crouched behind a wide, flat box, Brownie gave Sylvester the evil eye before turning a questioning glance at Smerdle.
"Yeah, that one's yours too."
This box wasn't wrapped, and after a quick war with the lid, Brownie yanked it open. She lifted a heavy book out of the box, struggling to sit up as it fell across her body. The book slid to the floor, falling open to somewhere in the middle.
"Monstr!" she shrieked, eyes wide and finger pointing for a few seconds until she seemed to realize it wasn't going to eat her.
"It's a pop-up book," Smerdle said. "See?" She scooted over on her knees and turned a few pages. Brownie crawled over and poked at a little paper knight, valiantly sticking up out of the page. "Don't ruin it and I'll read it to you later."
Sylvester grabbed another box and dragged it over. It, too, wasn't wrapped.
(( Image from a Google search! Woo! ))
"It's from Uncle Chucky's shop. It was one of the first things I found in the back, and I figured it would be better off here than in some old lady's house. I used to have one of these things, and this one still works!"
Sylvester looked interested, but skeptical. "I guess it could be fun."
By this time, Brownie already had the lid off of her last box.
The animal was only a little bit bigger than Brownie's pair of Idle Thoughts, and they had already adopted the cardinal-fox as their new mode of transportation. The gryphon looked up at her new owner and promptly bounded out of the room, Alfonso and Cuaron clinging to her furry back.
"Hey!" Brownie screeched, chasing after the trio.
"Merry Christmas Brownie!" Smerdle yelled after her retreating niece. She turned back to Sylvester and said, "I guess that leaves this one. You might think it's girly, but I thought it was nice." Smerdle reluctantly handed the last gift over to her son.
If Sylvester thought it was girly, he certainly didn't show it. In fact, he sat there twisting the snowglobe in his hands for at least three minutes, watching the pale flakes whirl around the tiny glass globe.
"Thank you," he said finally. "I like it a lot."
"Merry Christmas, Sylvester."
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Posted: Tue Jan 03, 2006 9:27 pm
Smerdle
Barton Pawn, Barton Town, Gaia
Sunday, December 31st, 2005 | 11:53pm GST
This was nice. Brownie sleeping, she and Sylvester alone. Smerdle didn't mind taking care of the winged terror while she had no other place to go, but she also remembered the times when it had been just she and the Tale.
Sylvester sat at the end of her bed, seemingly enthralled by the sparkly ball-on-a-stick on the television.
"What time is it?"
"Five minutes. It says right there on the side of the screen."
"Yeah."
"There'll be fireworks over Bass'ken then too. Do you want to see the ball or the fireworks?" She failed to suggest 'both' since Smerdle thought watching a falling ball was one of the stupider things someone could do with their time.
"Can't we do both? Like see the ball and then go outside? How long is it now?"
"Two minutes. It's right there. You may not be able to read, but I know you can subtract."
"Hmm."
Smerdle scooted down the bed and turned up the television. "Here, look. It's starting."
"Well, I don't want to count down all the way from a minute."
"C'mon. You know everyone else is."
They started their countdown at 54 seconds, and by the end they were jumping on the bed and screaming so loudly that it was a wonder the cops didn't come to the door. At the stroke of midnight, there was a loud boom, as promised.
"FireWORKS!" Smerdle yelled. She hopped off of the bed and ran through the front room of the shop and outside, where the faintest remnants of the first firecracker hung in the sky. Sylvester was several minutes behind, not quite excited enough to go out without his coat.
"C'mere, look." He was almost too big for it, but she picked him up and pointed in the direction of the lake. The next time the lights appeared, he flinched and clung to her head, eyes still on the sky, and she hugged him back.
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Posted: Tue Jan 10, 2006 7:18 pm
Quest Time! Sylvester has been marvelous in making friends, although we're still a little curious (if not worried) about his obsession with blood. He's going to grow soon, and that means a quest! Like all quest, Sylvester's will be two-fold. First of all, he should start amassing a collection of sorts. What he wishes to collect is up to him, so long as he manages to add at least six books of any topic to his library. And if possible, whatever he collects should help him deal with his vampiric tendencies, or at the very least help his Author deal with it. Second, his playdate requirements are going to be a little tricky. He has to have a minimum of two playdates, each with a Tale he doesn't know well or at all. However, something must happen in these playdates that seem to have been... planned by someone other than Sylvester or the Tale he's with. The items may be given, made, or purchased, and the PD's can be held in the shop, in the guild, over IMs or PMs. But however you go about it, it must be documented in your Tome. Good luck n.n
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Posted: Mon Jan 23, 2006 8:14 am
It had been really cold lately. Really cold. Sylvester certainly wasn't a fan of it. But today was much better. It was nearly spring-like, the perfect kind of weather to be outside in! Today was just like the day he'd been born, or at least he imagined it to be. That whole day was kind of a blur, but not the kind of blur being babysat or going to the eye doctor had been. Those kinds of blurs sucked, but Sylvester didn't think being born had sucked. He walked at a steady clip, happy to pursue this runaway train of thought until it crashed.
Shiny. There was something shiny in the alley. He stopped, not twenty feet away from the door of the shop, and glared at the mysterious flickering. That was a really dark alley, and with Smerdle a couple of blocks away at the pawn shop, Sylvester really didn't want to investigate further. Nope, not at all.
For obvious reaons, Onoway was a very quiet girl. Combine that with how lightly she walked, and it was easy to believe she snuck up on people without even meaning to. This was one of those times.
The butterfly stopped behind Sylvester, peering at the 'flicker' with slight interest. Onoway tried to not wander about the unknown. After all, curiousity killed the cat, hm? Finally, she spoke in his voice, flatly, "What are you looking at?" Maybe he at least knew what it was?
Well, that was certainly unexpected. Sylvester started at the sound of his own voice coming out of what seemed like thin air, but he was proud to notice he wasn't as frightened as he might have been a couple of months ago. Maybe he was braver or something! Or maybe it was because he only knew two people who could talk like he did - Onoway, and... well... himself.
"Oh hey, Onoway," he said, turning around slightly to address her before looking back down the alley. He squinted. "I don't know." Whatever it was flickered again, and then it was gone. This was stupid. He looked at Onoway again. "Were you on the way to the Stationery Store? 'Cause I don't think I was." He had definitely wanted to go someplace other than here, he just didn't know of any.
The other Tale stared at him briefly, then for a few more seconds made no motion aside from blinking. In her sisters voice, as people tended to react oddly to her having a boys (she knew he wouldn't, it had just become habbit), she answered, "Yes, I had planned to."
With the glimmer gone, even she couldn't prevent being curious. Sure, she was a very calm, polite little girl. But she was still a little girl, a child. Unfortunately, a glance toward where the flicker had been brought up nothing. "Did you just plan to wander...?"
"Nah, Mama told me to wait in there for her, like always," he said. "But we could go in there any day. You ever been to the park?" he asked. Sylvester was admittedly a little nervous about intentionally breaking the rules for the first time in his life, but it was really too nice of a day to waste inside. "We could come back before anyone noticed," he added. He knew his own punishment would be less than severe, but he also remembered Noharu. Or Noharu's voice, at least.
"Once, I met others like us there," she answered him. People tended to be intimidated by Noharu, and some would even avoid her "children" because of her. But she hadn't thought too much about using her voice scaring people. "If you would like, I would be glad to go with you."
Going there sounded much better than visiting some store anyway...
"Really? Maybe there'll be some of us there today." Sylvester had only ever met other Tales near the store or at the get-togethers the Authors seemed to always be planning.
He started walking toward the end of the block, leaving enough room on the sidewalk for Onoway to walk beside him. "So, how've you been? D'you have any new voices?" He didn't mean to pry, but he thought being able to talk in someone else's voice for a while would be one of the coolest things ever.
"Perhaps," Onoway said softly. To some extent, she was glad she could use others voices instead of having her own, because she guessed it would've been very boring!
The small girl smiled lightly at the question. It was nice to have some interest in the power, if you chose to call it that. It made her feel a bit less weird talking about it so casually. "Yes," she answered. "About three. Would you like to hear them? One of them is very mean, though--meaner than Noharu!"
"Oh yeah, sure!" Sylvester said, perhaps a bit more excited than the situation warranted. He imagined that a talent like hers would really come in handy if she ever wanted to do voices for cartoons. Not that she probably did.
He stopped at the corner of the block and looked both ways before stepping into the street.
Back in the alley next to the shop, a strange portal opened, filling the small space around it with a pale blue light. A man stepped out, muttering to himself. He brushed off his coat and picked up a glittering snowglobe from the top of a nearby garbage can.
After a light laugh (the only kind her sisters voice provided), she took a deep breath and made an angry face. "My name's Akilah and I hate everything!" And, indeed, such an angry voice much more so than Noharu's, as she had said, did lead one to believe the original speaker hated everything. Or close to it.
The girls wings fluttered absently as she two glanced from one side of the street to another, then followed her fellow Tale.
Little did she know that shining thing had provided a few seconds interest was more than just that...
Such a horrible voice coming out of such a small, calm girl like Onoway was a definite shock. "Wow," Sylvester said, his mouth left hanging open in surprise for a moment. "I don't think I'd want to meet that person ever! And they just gave their voice to you? It sounds like you would've had to take it from them." He knew she really couldn't, but still.
He reached the opposite side of the street and stopped. "Well, I guess this is it." The park was fairly full, not surprising considering the weather. Sylvester started toward an empty bench, not able to immediately think of any rides that wouldn't pose a problem to either his neck or her wings.
The man down the street stepped out onto the sidewalk proper and looked around for any sign of the kid. He squinted. There. And a... butterfly? Were they all animals? Weird. He began to follow, still a good distance away.
Onoway glanced over at him. She could see where one would think that, and her cousin definately wasn't someone she'd want to meet in a dark alley like the one they'd been staring at not very long ago. "Actually, she gave it to me," the Tale explained, in her calmer voice. "She hoped that it would help scare people away from my sister, she likes her. Neither of us are strong, though."
A soft wind picked up, and her wings twitched. "Yes, it is," she agreed, shifting uncomfortable. She couldn't place why, but suddenly she felt very... uneasy. Ignore it, you're just paranoid, her mind said.
"Well, now that we're here, there doesn't seem to be much to do, does there?" Sylvester said. All of the fun things were surrounded by loud children, and there was no way he would ever ask other kids to move. He bent his legs for a second and jumped onto the bench, content to sit and watch until something interesting presented itself.
Something interesting was certainly on its way. The man was across the street now, and he approached the two children with purposeful strides. He stopped behind the bench and tapped Sylvester on the shoulder.
Onoway, as always, agreed with a mere nod. Actually, she was sure if they asked some of the other children they'd let them take part in whatever game they were playing. She understood not everyone approached strangers so easily.
Speaking of...
So she had been right. But this stranger didn't seem like a potential friend, at least not at the moment. In a very, very rare turn of events, Onoway's eyes narrowed in a glare darker than any little girl should be able to use. "Who are you?" she demanded, and suddenly her sister's voice didn't sound as soft-spoken as before.
Hey, who could blame her? Noharu had told her kid strangers were alright, but adult strangers... not so much.
After a sharp intake of breath, Sylvester turned around to look at the strange man. His mother had told him nothing about keeping away from anyone in particular, but his own natural fear and wariness had him on edge. He might have remained silently staring forever if Onoway hadn't asked the guy who he was. And in such an ominous tone too. Sylvester was glad it wasn't directed at him.
"Tim. Uh... I'm Tim," the man said. "Look, I didn't mean to upset you," he said to the butterfly Tale. He turned to Sylvester, a smile creasing the skin around his eyes. "Don't you remember me?"
Hmm, no. "A little," Sylvester said. He figured it was best to lie in this case, rather than make a large, happy man upset.
"You bit me, man!" Tim said excitedly. "And sent me away to another world! It was really great. I wanted to thank you, just like you said I would." He continued smiling and nodding at the kids until he began to come to the conclusion that they had no idea what he was talking about.
Onoway's gaze didn't soften. Her voice didn't, either. It was rare that the attitude Noharu no doubt rubbed off on all her 'children' at least a little showed so much, but it did happen ocassionally. Ocassionally was now.
"I don't trust this guy," Onoway whispered quietly to her friend, though her eyes never even blinked away from the man. What he was saying made no sense at all! "What's he even talking about?"
Biting someone didn't send them away to another world! She'd been biten by her sisters devil cat, and she was still here!
Sylvester wished he could say he didn't trust this... Tim. He didn't want to remember this guy, but flashes of his face danced at the edges of Sylvester's memory. This guy... and blood... and a bar for some reason. What?
"I don't know," Sylvester whispered. "But I do remember him from somewhere."
Tim's smile faded. He couldn't hear what the children were saying, but he knew they were still uncertain of his intentions. "I just came to Gaia to give you a late Christmas present." He rummaged in his pocket for a moment before handing over a sparkling snowglobe. "Sorry I don't have anything for your friend, but I couldn't have known she would be here, right?"
"See, it's all of us. Quin, me, Nan. They wanted to come, but I told them I would. And now you don't even remember me."
Sylvester took the globe and passed it between his hands. It was a lot heavier than the one Mama had given him for Christmas, and there were little replicas of people he knew inside! Poor replicas, but they were still pretty cool. The little Nan-person even had a cane! "Thanks, I guess." He looked at Onoway and sighed. He really didn't want to have to explain himself. He didn't know half of what this guy was going on about, and the stuff he did have a memory of was completely bizarre. He was sure she would think he was a giant freak.
One of her cousins had accused Onoway of being an 'empath' before. The Tale wasn't sure then or now what that was, or if it was good or bad. She also didn't know she wasn't one, whatever it was.
The tiny girl was just good at reading people sometimes. You learned how to do that when you didn't say much. And she realized why she didn't say much, because nothing good ever came of it. It seemed her fault her friend was distressed. Why had she become so jumpy so quickly, anyway? She doubted it was really because of anything Noharu said.
What was that saying? Bagains be bagains? ... Wait, what was a bagain--was she saying it right? Onoway shrugged to herself and held her hand up Tim. Perhaps one of the only her age who's means of greeting was a hand shake. "Onoway," she offered politely. "I apologize."
If there was one thing Tim wasn't, it was smart. For instance, it had never even crossed his mind that he might look more than a bit big and scary to a couple of children, or that sneaking up on them probably wasn't the best way to earn their trust. He had thought the presence of presents would have been enough. Well, 'present' to be more accurate. But he was glad the little girl didn't seem so angry anymore.
"Pleased to meet you," Tim said with a smile, extending his hand and shaking Onoway's.
For all of the getting along going on around him, Sylvester didn't feel any happier. He hopped off of the bench and came around its side to stand next to Onoway. "You know Nan?" he asked Tim. "And Quin? Where do they live?" He wasn't trying to be pushy, but this was a little too outrageous to be believed. Sylvester had wanted to keep thinking that whole Guaxa thing had been some sort of weird, realistic dream, but now there was this guy, this adult, telling him it hadn't been.
"You know... Guaxa," Tim said, his good humor once again on the decline. What was up with kids nowadays? True, he didn't know much about how he had gotten to the alternate universe the first time, but he knew Sylvester had brought him, and therefore Tim assumed the kid knew all about it. But looking at the Tale's confused face, Tim realized Sylvester didn't know anything. Well, he certainly wasn't going to be the one to explain it all. "Uh... well... it was nice talking to you two. I'm just going to leave you to whatever you were doing. It's a nice day, why don't you... play on the swings or something?" He backed up slowly, making a poor attempt at getting away before he could be questioned further.
Alright, now, Onoway had tried being nice to this guy.
And, to be fair, most of the time she was just a very...emotionless girl. But she considered Sylvester her friend--and the first one she had ever made no less, and so the fact he wasn't answering her friends questions (even though she had no idea what either of them were talking about herself), made her annoyed with him like before.
"I don't think that's quite the answer he expected from you..." she mumbled, eyes narrowed a bit.
A small gust of wind suddenly picked up, ruffling their hair and clothes. Onoway wrinkled her nose and folded her wings back.
Sylvester sighed and smiled slightly. This guy really wasn't worth his time. "Yeah, that's not what I was talking about. If you're not going to tell us, why don't you just go?" He felt bad that Onoway didn't really know what was going on, but there would be plenty of time to explain later.
He crossed his arms over his chest. On any other day, Sylvester might have gotten a bit more upset, but really, he didn't want to be mad when it was so nice out. All he wanted to do was go on some rides with Ono, who he hadn't seen in like forever and... jeez, these stupid adults were always messing up fun things.
"Look, I can't tell you anything, okay?" Tim said, stepping back over near the Tales. "Why don't you ask your mom? I'm sure she knows something about it all."
Sylvester just sighed again, this time audibly. The breeze stirred his hair and he turned back to the bench and jumped up on it again, his back now to Tim like it had been when the man had first approached. He ran his hand over the snowglobe in his jacket pocket.
"All right," Tim said. "It was nice meeting you, Onoway." A moment later he was gone, long strides taking him back up the street toward the alley.
Sylvester turned to Onoway, eyes downcast. "I know what he was talking about," he said. "I went someplace that I thought was a dream. I don't know how he could have found out about it unless it was real. Sorry. Today was supposed to be fun."
Onoway felt a weird feeling. She assumed it was the 'guilt' thing her sister talked about. Emotions aside from happy, sad and angry still confused her. They were complicated, and so many names!
"Oh, no," she attempted, forcing a smile that was convincing enough (hopefully). "This was plenty of fun!" Whatever 'fun' was, this was probably close enough to it.
Then his words before sank in. "A dream...?" repeated the butterfly in amazement. "That sounds very...cool." That was such a weird use for that word, but her sister had told her a lot of things, and one was that people liked to use and hear it that way. "Was it pretty there?"
Pretty? "Not any prettier than here," he said. "They had a castle though, that was nice." He'd heard about there being castles in Gaia too, but he'd never seen them. "It was cool," he agreed, not noticing her awkward use of the word. "I could read their language and stuff too." He was still a little miffed that his stupid baby cousin could read better than he could. Perhaps he should practice more.
"That's very impressive." Mean what you say, and say what you mean. It was a rule Onoway followed. She was truly impressed, assuming he could read English, too. She couldn't read at all, and paired with the fact she (in a way) couldn't speak either, it was almost enough to make her frown.
"Did you tell your guardian?" was her next question. Her sister had told her once moms and dads, or some cases aunts and uncles and grandmas and grandpas, had the solution for everything.
Sylvester looked a little frightened at the prospect of telling Smerdle anything about his journey, especially now that he knew it hadn't been some wild fantasy. He might be secretly more dangerous than Brownie and her crazy, bladed wings! Criminals on Law & Order never sent people places by biting them, but after he got locked up, Sylvester was sure it wouldn't be long before there was an episode all about it. "No. I mean, what would she say?" He felt the globe in his pocket again and leaned back into the bench. "What I don't get is how she couldn't have known. I was away for a couple of days, I thought. Maybe I'll tell her. I could have gotten hurt or something last time."
At that very moment, Smerdle was almost certain that Sylvester was hurt, or worse. She stood down the block from the park, Brownie in hand, the door of the Stationery Store swinging shut behind her. She had told Sylvester to wait inside for her, but she had seen no giraffe boys in the shop and he wasn't on the street either.
"Park," Brownie said. She could see tiny children running around up the street and she wanted some of that action.
"Your cousin is gone," Smerdle said, matter-of-factly. "I told him to wait here. What good is going to the park going to do?"
"Park."
"Fine."
"I'm...not certain," Onoway answered. Her tone was how she felt: Helpless. Not helpless as in defending her own welfare, helpless as far as assisting her friend, something she wished she could do.
But she didn't know his mother, and she also had no idea how to lie (or 'exegerate' as Noharu had once said). No help at all, sometimes. "Maybe it's one of those situations where time works differently?" suggested the girl. She'd heard about that happening in a book her sister had read to her once.
Years went by in one world and minutes in another.
"That's probably it," Sylvester agreed. "So that means I'm like older than I would be if I'd been here all the time, 'cause you guys all stayed the same age while I grew." Pretty cool. "Don't be sad, Ono. It'll all make sense when I talk to Mama later." He wasn't too sure of that himself, but it made him feel better. He hopped off of the bench and turned to face Onoway, spotting Smerdle and Brownie coming toward them over the top of her head. Great. He didn't want to talk to her about it now.
Smerdle waved and made her way over to the Tales. "I guess this is close enough to the shop for you not to be dead," she deadpanned. "Hi, I'm Sylvester's mom. You must be Onoway." Smerdle had heard about a green butterfly Tale, but only in the form of a lot of excited babbling from Sylvester and a brief description from Chucky, who had only seen the girl from down the block.
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Posted: Tue Jan 24, 2006 11:40 am
Sylvester
Smerdle's House, Outside Aekea, Gaia
Wednesday, January 25th, 2006 | 2:33pm GST
"Welcome back to The Top Ten Disney Rides EVER!"
The girl on the television was perky. Scary perky.
"The next ride is number 4, Big Thunder Mountain Railroad!"
Smerdle entered the room, arms encumbered with several oddly decorated books.
"What're those?" Sylvester asked, not taking his eyes from the TV.
She sat down on the sofa and dropped the books on the coffee table. After a bit more fiddling, they were arranged in a neat line.
"They're about DisneyWorld. I figure since you haven't stopped watching the Travel Channel all week, I would dig these out. Back when I had money I used to go there all the time. Maybe we can go someday."
Sylvester turned from the television to look at her. "Really? You're not just lying again?"
Smerdle looked a little hurt. Deep down, Sylvester felt a moment of fierce joy.
"No, I've never lied to you about important stuff."
He turned back to the TV. "Mmm hmm. Thanks."
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Posted: Fri Jan 27, 2006 12:28 pm
Brownie
Smerdle's House, Outside Aekea, Gaia
Thursday, January 26th, 2006 | 3:30pm GST
creak creeeeeeeeak
Rusty metal against metal. It was an unpleasant sound, but no one was around to hear it. Well, two living entities were, but they didn't mind. Alfonso and Cuaron sat at Brownie's feet, watching her and smiling beaky smiles.
"Reeeeeeed reeeeed," Brownie screeched. She wanted someone to read to her, but in the meantime, singing to the tune of her own decrepit wings had seemed like a good way to pass the time. It had been for about an hour, but now she was bored. "Come," she told the Thoughts.
Ant's yard was particularly boring. It was big, but all that was really in it was an old, faded picnic table and a small, thick grove of trees and bushes. Opting for the bushes, Brownie rose and made her way over. Cuaron got there first, hopping and pecking on something green in the midst of all the crunchy dead grass.
"Go 'way," Brownie admonished. What was that?
Next to it, buried halfway in the dirt, lay a tiny glass ball filled with glitter and tiny people.
Brownie hefted the little book and the ball, suddenly finding the grove too small and dark to suit her. She crossed the yard and dropped the book on the chipped wooden bench, choosing to pocket the globe instead of risking breaking it.
"What's that?" came a voice from behind her.
"Nuttin." Brownie pulled herself up on the bench and tried to sit on the book, but Sylvester was too quick. He pulled it almost out from under her, and it took her a few seconds to stop herself from falling and regain her composure. "Hey," she said quietly.
"It's got my initials on it," he said with wonder. He held it up and stepped back as a piece of paper dropped out.
"Wot? Wottttttt," Brownie said, leaning forward and pointing. "Reed to."
Sylvester picked the note up and scanned it quickly. "Fine," he said. He sat down next to his cousin and began to read.
Sylvester,
I hope you are doing well. Here is a second late Christmas present from all of your friends in Guaxa. I understand you might be a bit angry with us, and I hope that this will help mend fences and that you will visit again soon. I had it embossed with your Gaian initials. I hope it will help you learn their letters.
Quin
"Hmm," Brownie said. She looked over Sylvester's arm at the strange letters decorating the page. He could read that? What a weirdo!
"See, it's for me," he said. He clutched the book like she wanted the dumb thing now. "It's a present from the place I thought was a dream. But that was pretty silly of me. I mean, they gave me real presents." He smiled. She shrugged. Like she cared. "You want to go read something?"
Brownie nodded. Sylvester had all the best books. It really took a tool not to realize all the fun they were. "Oh," she said. She supposed if he was taking the book, he could have the globe too. "Here." She fished it out of her pocket and handed it to him, then hopped off of the bench and headed inside, not caring whether her cousin followed.
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Posted: Fri Jan 27, 2006 12:29 pm
Sylvester stalked down the same section of sidewalk he had several days ago, lost in his thoughts just as he had been then. These thoughts were not happy ones about the weather, however, as much as he wished they could be. He was confused, and he wished someone would just tell him what the hell was going on.
"Sylvester! I told you to wait!" Smerdle had never been this frustrated with her charge, not even after he had gotten band-aid-happy at the movies. She wasn't looking after Brownie today, having found a daycare center for problem children in the area, but she wasn't going to run after Sylvester. Why wasn't he listening to her, dammit! He always had and he always should.
The Tale stopped momentarily at his mother's angry tone, turning partially to wait for her to catch up. His gaze lingered on the alley just ahead. Stupid alley. He huffed out a sigh and stomped the remaining distance to the Stationery Store before pulling open the door and stepping inside, leaving Smerdle down the block.
Chailyn moved down the street just slightly in front of her mother. She was going to go shopping later. She was feeling rather happy so far. She'd thought of a present for Elena, or at least she had an idea. She was still thinking about what to get Jiro and thought the stationary store would be a good place to get some inspiration. At least that's what Aislinn said, whatever inspiration meant.
She heard someone yell a name she thought sounded familiar but wasn't paying attention to those around her. Instead she continued walking noticing the door to the shop swinging closed. She blinked, curious and began to walk faster. Someone was there today and she wanted to know who.
"Chailyn, don't walk so fast," Anemone said. She frowned seeing that Chai wasn't listening. Instead the tale rushed forward and darted into the shop, only to run into Sylvester.
"Oops...hi..." she said after blinking a few times and looking up at him. It took her a moment to realize she was sitting on the floor now.
Sylvester tripped forward as Chailyn's small body ran into him. If that was Smerdle trying to teach him a lesson, he would just... He clenched his fists and spun around, looking up at where he presumed the threat was. "Mama! I..."
Only there wasn't anyone there. He hadn't heard Chailyn's hello over his own angry retort, so he spent a fraction of a second in puzzled silence, staring at the empty air, before he looked down.
"Oh! Chai, I'm sorry," he said, lowering his hand to help her up. Well, he couldn't be mad at Chailyn, she wasn't keeping anything from him, at least that he knew of. "How've you been?" He looked down at the ground, trying to cover the fact that the hand by his side was still balled in a fist, and the other fact that he had just yelled at a nice person for no good reason.
Smerdle sped up when she saw Chailyn enter the store. She only knew the child was a Tale because she had seen her briefly at Christmas. Smerdle hated to think it, but she didn't want Sylvester causing any trouble. She smiled briefly and waved at Anemone.
"Was that yours?"
Chailyn just giggled blushing. She took his hand gratefully oblivious that he had yelled or had his fist balled up. She got to her feet letting out a soft breath of air. She was glad to have run into him, well not literally.
"Hi Sylvester. I'm ok. How are you? I'm sorry for bumping into you. I saw the door shut and got excited to have someone to meet," she explained. She looked up at him, her eyes just shining with interest.
Anemone smiled walked over to Smerdle. "Yes, I think she got a little excited when she saw the shop door close." She knew her tale loved meeting people, though more one on one, otherwise she seemed to retreat to the outskirts just following the motions of others. Of course, this likely meant even more shopping had to be done.
She had to admit it was worth it, especially since Chailyn seemed so happy when she met others.
"That's okay," he said, relieved she hadn't seemed to have noticed his sour mood. "I've been better, but that doesn't matter now." He glared at the door before turning to Chailyn and smirking. "Would your mom be worried if... well, yeah she would. Chai, would you do something for me? When Mama comes in, tell her you haven't seen me. I'll be upstairs. If I'm not here, maybe she'll leave." He sounded like a pouty brat, but he didn't care. Without waiting for an answer, he ran for the stairs, taking them two at a time.
"She's adorable. Were you guys headed anywhere important before she made a bee-line for the store? Actually, we should probably talk inside. Shall we?" Smerdle smiled and held the door open for Anemone if she wanted to enter.
Chailyn was a bit surprised. No one had ever asked her to lie and she wasn't sure what to think. She didn't think Sylvester sounded like a whiny brat and she didn't think he was bad for asking either. She guessed she'd have to do what he had asked.
Anemone smiled at Smerdle nodding. "We were going to do some shopping. Chai wants to get her new friends some presents," she replied. She walked inside stopping to wait for Smerdle though she saw Chailyn standing by herself.
The tale looked up at Smerdle and Anemone. "Sylvester's not here..." she said but it wasn't very convincing. She'd never lied before so it wasn't surprising that it feel flat.
Smerdle glared at the stairs, where the faint sounds of little-boy-shoe-clops could still be heard. Honestly, she didn't know what to do with him. Making another kid lie? Well, he wasn't going to get rid of her that easily.
"Okay, well, he's been around this neighborhood alone by himself before. He'll come back soon, I'm sure. I'll just stay down here and wait." She hoped she didn't sound too uncaring, but she didn't want to make Chailyn feel bad about covering for Sylvester. "Should we sit down for a while?" she asked Anemone.
Upstairs, Sylvester sat in a room crowded with boxes and wondered what was going on with Mama and Chai. Just as he had been worried Chailyn's mother would have been upset if she had entered the shop to find Chailyn gone, he was also sure she wouldn't let the Tale come up here unsupervised. Sometimes, he didn't really think a thing through. He sighed, but didn't move, not yet ready to give himself up.
"Yes, why don't we," Anemone replied picking up Chailyn. "It's nice that you want to help someone but lying is wrong," she whispered into the tale's ear. She kissed her on the cheek before sitting down. She was about to apologize to Smerdle for Chailyn's action of lying but Chailyn decided to speak instead.
"Can I go play with Sylvester upstairs?" she asked. She looked up at her mother, knowing that she wouldn't want to. She didn't have much choice though. Anemone didn't want to leave Sylvester upstairs alone and since he was avoiding his mother she had no reason to think he'd accept her presence.
"Ok...but be careful," Anemone said putting Chailyn down and watching as she ran off. She gave a light sigh hoping nothing bad would happen. Somehow she could just see the two accidently breaking something or worse. As a parent, she couldn't help worrying over all the possible things that could go wrong.
Chailyn climbed up the stairs slowly. She looked down the hallway tilting her head to the side. "Sylvester? Where are you?" she called out.
"Sylvester's not usually this... troublesome," Smerdle apologized. "I think he thinks I'm keeping something from him, but I don't even know what that something could be. I'm hoping he gets over it on his own." She perched on the arm of a nearby chair. "He shouldn't have asked her to lie," she muttered, thinking out loud.
Chailyn's voice carried down the hall and into the room Sylvester was hiding in. Was she alone? He didn't want to go out there only to find his mother or someone else there too.
Montmorency clung to Sylvester's neck, her camouflaging ability discarded in favor of her natural, metallic skin. She had never ventured far from the giraffe Tale, but she understood that his current behavior was causing more problems than it was solving. The more he overreacted to this whole snowglobe thing, the more likely it would be that he would find out what he had been created to do. She knew that couldn't happen. She hopped off of Sylvester and bounced toward the door, intending to reveal his location, even if it meant her existence would be public knowledge.
"Morry, no!" Sylvester whispered.
"You are acting like an infant," she scolded, her voice cold but melodic as always. She hopped out of the door and plopped to a stop in front of Chailyn. "Hello."
"No, he shouldn't have. I'm sure he's just dealing with something in his own way," Anemone tried in hopes that it would help Smerdle feeling better. Although she was feeilng rather nervous herself. She hoped the giraffe looking tale wouldn't ask Chailyn to do anything else that she shouldn't do.
Chailyn peered at Montmorency and giving a smile kneeling down. She put her hand out to let the creature get her scent if she wanted. "Hi. Do you live here? Have you seen Sylvester?" her questions blurred together slightly as she barely paused in between.
Well, at least Anemone was being nice about it. "Yeah, 'his own way' seems to be really annoying right now." She sighed. "So... this probably wasn't the best way for us to be introduced. I'm Smerdle," she said, holding out her hand. "And, that was Sylvester. I think he and Chailyn met over Christmas. There were so many kids there, I could hardly keep track. But, he did mention her. Something about having a cool name." She smiled.
Oh, this was convenient. Maybe she could just pretend to be some shop oddity and not connect herself with Sylvester at all. Morry touched her cold nose to the girl's hand in a gesture of greeting, even though she couldn't really smell anything in the conventional way. "You are Chailyn, correct? Sylvester is here. Follow me." With that, she turned and hopped back to the room he was hiding in.
"Perhaps he'd talk to Chailyn or someone about what's bothering him. I know she saw him at Christmas and has been quite curious about him ever since," she said with a smile. It seemed impossible for Chailyn not to be curious though. She always seemed to jump at the chance to meet new tales, though she would probably jump at the chance to meet almost anyone. "It's nice to meet you Smerdle." She smiled as well taking Smerdle's hand in her own.
Chailyn giggled at Morry's gesture. A shiver ran down her spine and she shook lightly from the cold before shaking it off. "Mm-hmm, I'm Chailyn." She watched Morry turn and followed the hopping creature. She wondered who owned her, thinking Morry seemed like a nice pet.
"I hope so," Smerdle said, shaking Anemone's hand. "Anyway, how long has Chailyn been with you? From the little I've seen of her, she seems like a real sweetheart." She dropped onto the actual sofa cushion and took off her coat, settling it around herself.
Montmorency entered the box-filled room and bowed slightly. "Here," she said to Chailyn. She wanted to scold Sylvester again for his attitude, but she stopped herself.
The giraffe stood, his head hung lower than usual. "Sorry Chai," he said. "I shouldn't have asked you to lie. It's just... Mama's lying to me. I know she knows something." He didn't even begin to clarify what the hell he was talking about, but he stood up straighter and smiled at Chailyn, as if coming to the conclusion that his behavior was justified. Morry, again, stayed silent.
"Chailyn's been with me for about six months. It almost seems like yesterday. She tends to be so cute and sweet," she replied giving a smile. She moved to sit in a chair beside the couch having forgot she was even wearing her coat. She shrugged the coat off letting fall back.
"It's ok Sylvester. I didn't mind. I'm sorry they didn't believe me though," the tale started. She smiled brightly before her smile turned to confusion. "Mom's shouldn't lie. It's not nice that she's lying to you." She seemed to scowl at the thought but it vanished when she replaced it with a softer look. She wondered if they could get Smerdle to tell the giraffe what she knew, though she also wondered if maybe she should wait and ask her mother to do it.
"Why don't we go ask her to tell us?" she asked catching Sylvester's hand and turning like she was going to pull him out of the room. She gave him an encouraging look having forgot about Morry for the time being.
If Mama had been keeping things from him all this time, he didn't see why she would suddenly tell him what he wanted to know just because he asked again. But Chai looked so sure that this was the right thing to do. He held on to her hand and started out the door.
"Sylvester, wait." The Tale stopped in his tracks at the sound of the soothing voice.
"Oh, sorry Morry. Come on." He held his hand out for her to jump onto, finally acknowledging that she wasn't just some creation of the shop.
"No. Your mother doesn't know the things you want her to tell you. I know what you did to the man with the snowglobe that made him so happy to see you again. And I'm not going to tell you. It is not the right time for you to know these things."
Sylvester narrowed his eyes at his 'pet,' his anger rekindled.
Smerdle nodded. "Time does fly. It seems like yesterday for me too. I just came by to get some invitations and I came out with a kid. That's something I never thought would happen to me." She chuckled.
Chailyn smiled at Sylvester as he took her hand and was a bit confused why Morry asked for them to wait. She watched as the creature talked suddenly realizing that she belonged to him. Her first thought was to tell him how wonderful a pet she seemed like.
Her purple eyes seemed to mist over in confusion when Morry finished speaking. What man? Snowglobe? What had Sylvester done to the man? Why wouldn't she tell him? What did she mean by the right time? What was the right time?
It only seemed to last a second as she found herself glaring at Morry. "That's not nice. It's not right to keep things from people 'specially if they are your friend." She accented the last part more loudly than she'd ever spoken before. She placed her free hand on her hip giving Sylvester's hand a squeeze.
Anemone echoed Smerdle's chuckle nodding her head. "I didn't really come in for anything. I just felt like I needed to wake up and come somewhere. Next thing I knew Chailyn was staring at me."
Montmorency would have looked taken aback if she could have. "You shouldn't interfere where your opinion is not needed or wanted," she said to Chailyn. Her eyes glinted red, but her voice seemed more devoid of emotion than usual, if that was possible.
Sylvester continued to stare at the metallic being for a few seconds before saying, "I don't think I want to talk to you anymore, Morry." He was more hurt now than angry, and he just wanted to get away from her. Turning to Chai, he said, "We should go back downstairs." He held Chailyn's hand tighter and made no motion to pick Montmorency up off of the floor.
"Really?" Smerdle asked. "That's pretty cool. I kinda wish it had happened like that for me. I like hearing people's stories of the Study. It seems like I've heard so many now."
Chailyn pondered trying to hurt Morry but shook her head. She wouldn't have minded hurting the creature but she didn't think that would be right. She didn't think that would help Sylvester at all. She sighed nodding at her new friend.
"I don't want to talk to her either. We'll have more fun downstairs," she told him. She gave a small sigh not wanting to be mean or rude, turning to Morry. "It was nice to meet you, Morry," was all she said. She turned back to Sylvester giving him a smile thinking she didn't like his pet anymore.
"It's seems kind of silly but I felt like the book was mad at me when I wrote in it. I felt like it was yelling at me actually," Anemone admitted as a soft blush covered her cheeks.
Sylvester smiled. He had listened to Morry for too long. Chailyn's reaction was perfect. "Bye Morry," he said, trying not to sound too smug. He walked out of the room and started to head back downstairs, still hand in hand with Chai. "So what do you wanna do now?" he asked.
"I felt it was more than mad at me," Smerdle said. "The stupid pen grabbed my hand! It was really very freaky."
Happy to continue holding onto Sylvester's hand, Chailyn followed her new friend downstairs. "We could play a game or explore," she suggested. She had thought about suggesting Hide and Seek but it didn't seem like there were a lot of places to hide. She was sure there were a few but she'd have to get creative to pull most of them off. Besides it wasn't that fun a game with only two people. There were probably better games to play.
"I felt silly after everything settled down and their was this beautiful little girl looking up at me." Anemone admitted. "Although at the time, I would've been the first to yell how scared I was. For a moment I felt like I was going to cry. It seems silly now though," she blushed.
"Chailyn is a very pretty young lady." Smerdle sounded a bit distracted. She didn't find Anemone's fear silly at all. She was still afraid to think too closely about what had happened in the Study sometimes. And that strange woman she had met outside the shop the morning Sylvester had been born... what was that all about?
The Tale reached the bottom of the stairs, still smiling at the prospect of playing a game with Chailyn. His smile faded when he saw his mother. He jumped to apologize, hoping that he could circumvent punishment. "I'm sorry I called you a liar, Mama. Can me and Chai play a game?" He put on his best cute face, but it didn't look like it was going to fly.
"Thank you very much for getting Sylvester to come out, Chailyn, but I don't think he should be playing any games right now. You were very rude to me earlier, and you asked someone to lie. You know that's not right." This last was directed at Sylvester in a mid-level whisper. Smerdle felt bad for having to stop the kids from having fun, but Sylvester had to be taught that he couldn't act the way he had been.
"Sylvester's a handsome tale, he'll probably break a few hearts when he grows up." Somehow she couldn't help wondering how many of Chailyn's male friends the girl would end up developing crushes on. She had a feeling it'd be hard for her not to have a crush on Donny.
Chailyn gave a frown following Sylvester. She didn't think it was fair that he was going to get punished. She thought it was all Morry's fault anyways. If his pet would just tell him the truth then he wouldn't have been rude to his mother. "But it's not Sylvester's fault. It's..." she trailed off looking at her friends. Did Smerdle know about Morry? She didn't want to say anything that might get her friend in trouble.
Anemone was torn on the subject. Chailyn had tried to lie, meaning she really shouldn't be rewarded but she had been trying to help a friend. Chailyn hadn't be rude to Smerdle and while Ane didn't think she should interfere with whatever Smerdle thought was the best punishment, she felt preventing them was playing was punishing Chai. "Maybe we should give them a chance to explain?" she suggested softly.
Smerdle softened at Chailyn's defense of Sylvester. "I suppose I don't really need an explanation," she said. "You can stay for a little while longer. Sorry, Chailyn." She gave the girl a reassuring grin. After all, Sylvester must have told her what was wrong with him, and if she was still ready to defend him, it couldn't be that bad, right?
Sylvester nodded and sat down on the stairs. He might have just gotten out of a punishment, but he didn't feel much like playing. He waited until Smerdle was out of earshot before whispering, "Thanks for not telling her about Morry."
"Thank you." Chailyn beamed up at Smerdle nodding her head. She followed after Sylvester glad she hadn't revealed any of her friend's secrets. That just wouldn't make a good impression or be nice. She'd just have to remember who knew and who didn't know about Morry, not that she wanted to think about the creature. She still wasn't happy with the pet and didn't think Sylvester deserved such a rude thing.
"You're welcome," she told Sylvester sitting down beside him. The mood for playing had slightly fallen apart but it didn't bother her. "I won't tell anyone about her. I don't think they'd like her much, either."
For a moment she almost regretted not liking the creature. It'd be sad to have no one like you but Morry didn't seem to care. So for now Chailyn decided she wouldn't either.
"Sorry I overreacted," Smerdle said to Anemone. She sat down and sighed, glad Sylvester seemed slightly happier now, but still a bit upset over how he'd been acting.
Sylvester smiled. "Yeah, they wouldn't, would they?" He recalled a time when Morry had repeatedly urged him to bite his Uncle Chucky. She had been pretty bad all along. But she had been his only real close friend besides Mama for so long, it kind of hurt to see her be so mean. Oh well, it wouldn't hurt to try to make another, even if he wasn't really that good at it. "Chai, I know we haven't hung out a lot, but do you think maybe someday you would think of me as your friend?"
"You didn't over react, you're just trying to be a good mother. It's hard to decide what to do, how to punish, if you should punish them, or when. There's not exactly a rule book and what might work for one child won't work for them all." Anemone paused giving a smile to Smerdle. "I think you're doing a good job," she added honestly.
Chailyn looked a bit surprised at his question and giggled scooching closer to wrap her arms around him. "I already think of you as my friend. You're a great friend!" she added the last part as a grin spread on her lips.
Smerdle nodded. "Thanks." She thought about Brownie, the angry, bladed baby she had been given care of while her best friend was away, and vowed to take better care of her. Brownie might be a handful, but she deserved better treatment than Smerdle had been giving her.
A smile crept across Sylvester's face as Chai hugged him. She was definitely a better friend than Morry had ever been! "You too," he said, giving her arms a squeeze. "So, what were you guys out today for?" he asked, letting her go so she could sit back.
Anemone smiled sure that Smerdle was a good mom. "It's true. Sylvester seems to be getting along wonderfully with Chai, so you must've done things right," she added.
"Mom and I were looking for gift ideas. I like to get people I meet a present but I haven't been able to think of one for some. So Mom said we could do some window shopping. I don't know how shopping for windows is going to help though," Chailyn admitted with a shrug. She hadn't yet figured out that her mother meant they would look at displays for ideas.
"And now I have to get you a gift, too." She gave Sylvester another hug. She tried to number them off in her head. She had yet to buy five presents, counting one for Sylvester. She only had an idea of what to get one of them, too.
Smerdle looked over to where Sylvester and Chailyn were talking. He did look happy.
"Weird." Sylvester didn't have any idea what "window shopping" was either, not having a mother who was inclined to do such things. "About the windows, I mean." He smiled. "And if you're getting me something, I'm getting you something too!" Now he and Chai were sort of in the same boat. He had never bought a present for anyone before and he had no idea what she might like.
Smerdle fidgeted. She couldn't explain why she was suddenly so concerned about the other child in her care, but she knew something had to be done about it. Smiling at Anemone again, she said, "I'm sorry about this, but would you mind watching Sylvester for a few minutes? I need to go get my niece."
"Not at all. I'll keep an eye on him," Anemone said with a smile. "Chailyn will keep him occupied I'm sure," she added giving a laugh as an image of Chailyn tying the tale up popped into her head.
"Moms are weird sometimes. My mom talks to herself in the mirror sometimes when she's getting dressed. When I have nightmares or can't sleep I go climb in with Mom, but she wakes up so early."
She was glad she wasn't the only one who didn't get what window shopping was though. She was even more sure that her mom wasn't the only one who was weird. But her attention turned back to gifts with Sylvester's statement. "Giving gifts is fun. I love giving gifts to my friends," she said giving Sylvester a hug.
Smerdle nodded and waved, thankful that Anemone was willing to help. "I'll be back in a few minutes," she said before slipping out.
"Yeah, Mama's super weird," he said. He didn't elaborate on that fact by announcing that she had mostly become that way after his uncle had left town. She deserved a little privacy, he supposed, now that he had redirected his anger at Morry rather than his mother.
Sylvester returned the hug, distracted by it enough that he didn't notice his mother's departure. He had never been the touchy-feely sort, but hugging and hand holding was okay. Suddenly he remembered something. "Hey! I did help Mama get a gift for a Tale once. Christmas!" He couldn't believe he had forgotten, but Smerdle had done most of the work on that one.
"Christmas was fun! I think Mom was glad I didn't know who got me a gift, I would've gotten them a thank you gift." Chailyn giggled. She didn't really realize why she found it so important to give gifts to her friends, she only had an inkling.
"I think you need a nicer pet," she whispered to Sylvester. She tilted her head wondering what kind of pet would suit him. "Dogs are supposed to be loving and friendly and loyal. Do you like dogs?" she asked gently. She really wasn't thinking of getting him a pet as a gift, she simply wanted to help him find a new pet. No one should have to be lied to by a pet or anything for that matter.
"Dogs are okay. We've got Warwick at home. He's a big doggy-fox thing," Sylvester said. He held out his hands, palms in, and spread them wide to indicate the Velah's size. "But he's too smart. He does his own thing." Sylvester nodded. "And I've got some little octopuses, but they don't do much except float around. I think I've had it with pets that tell me what to do, no matter how nice they are." He stopped talking for a moment and tapped his foot. "D'you have any pets?"
"Well I have two balan, Laban and Taini. Labby is a canine and Taini is a feline. She's a brat most of the time. The other pets aren't really mine. Just regular cats that Mom has adopted. There's Princess, Tiger, Stripes, Izzy, and Cynder. My favorite are koi...we don't have any yet really, no place to put them. They are so beautiful though," Chailyn explained. She smiled nodding her head. Once spring came, she'd have koi not that she knew it yet. It'd be a special thing between Lance and her.
Sylvester didn't know what koi were, but an image popped into his head of majestic, talking trees that ate all your food and took up all the space on the couch. Maybe that's why they needed a special area. "They sound cool, the koi." A thought struck him. "Do you get presents for everyone you've met? How many Tales do you know?" He found all the kids he knew that had come from the Study to be so interesting and he wanted to compare notes, like some weird Tall Tale collector's game.
"I try getting presents for all of them. I haven't yet but I'm working on it!" she added the last bit with a cheer. She giggled softly wondering for a moment. She put her hands out in front of her starting to count off the tales she'd met.
"I've met Donny, Lance, Vidya, Elena, Ezra, Onoway, Zayne, Andi, Nala, Jiro, and you! I've seen Linneas and Aido but haven't really met them yet. I don't think Zayne much liked me..." she admitted. She'd had just enough fingers to count out the tales she met.
Putting her hands down, she pulled at the tips of her hair thinking. She way trying to form sentences of what she thought of each but was having a bit of trouble. "Who have you met?"
"Hm. Well, I met Linny the first day I was here," he began. "Then I met Jiro and Miako and Viddy at a party! I met Tybalt, Lance, Lyris, Angelus and Aido here at the shop. And you and Donny and Armel at Christmas! I also know Ono and Nalira and Rhea. I think that's it." He was glad to hear that Chai mentioned some Tales he had never heard of. That meant he had more to meet!
He smiled at Chai and was about to launch into another question when the shop door swung open again. Smerdle rushed back inside, Brownie beneath her coat. The little Shattered peeked out above her aunt's collar through the blades of her wings, one of which was coated with what looked like tapioca pudding. "I think we need to go soon," Smerdle said softly. "I can't apologize enough," she said to Anemone and Chailyn. "Brownie and the other kids didn't get along very well." She sat back on the sofa and arranged Brownie so the little girl would be comfortable.
Sylvester might have made a face if he hadn't seen the state his normally raucous cousin was in. Oh well. At least he still had a little while longer with Chai. And he could see her again whenever he wanted, he presumed. "Have you ever heard of Disneyworld?" he asked the Tale. "We should go there." He nodded, not realizing how ridiculous a request it might be, given their current location.
"Who's Miako and Tybalt? And Angelus and Rhea?" Chailyn tilted her head wanting to know about these people she hadn't met. She didn't notice Smerdle enter with Brownie, too busy wondering how many tales there were. There must be an army of us, is the conclusion she came to.
Anemone gave a soft laugh, "You don't need to apologize at all. Sylvester and Chailyn were so busy talking and being good, I couldn't have had an easier job of watching them." She gave a smile standing up and excusing herself for a moment. She pondered for a moment before remembering where the kitchen was and coming back with a towel. Sitting down, she looked at Brownie's wing and began to gently nudge the pudding off.
"Disneyworld? No. I bet it'd be fun to go through!" she added with a smile. Whatever it was it had to be fun. Everything was fun with a friend.
"Miako's got a horn." It didn't clarify much, but it was true. "Tybalt's a parrot. He's a little scary. Me and Aido and Angelus went exploring once. Angelus's got big, black wings. And Rhea's cool. She can talk in your mind." He whispered the last part because it was just that cool. "There are an awful lot of us," he thought out loud. "I wonder why." Alas, this question was too big for Sylvester's brain at the moment and he quickly tangented. "I've never been either," he admitted. "I hear it has things you can ride on, and I like cars, so it must be pretty cool there."
"Thank you," Smerdle said. She looked on warily as Anemone began to brush at Brownie's wing. After all, the kid had been known to freak out over less, but the little girl behaved, even going so far as to rest her hand on the woman's in some sort of silent thanks. "Do you guys have a phone?" Smerdle asked, seeming as conversationally jumpy as her son. "I'd really like Chailyn and Sylvester to meet up again. She really brings out the best in him."
Chailyn tried to picture someone with a horn. Miako sounded like a girl's name, she thought, so she pictured a little girl with a horn. She wasn't sure where it was supposed to go though and quite a few odd images popped into her head. "A scary parrot? I don't know if I want to meet him."
Anemone didn't know Tybalt but she'd seen Inle at Christmas and once before with the parrot tale. She felt rather...nervous when seeing the woman, mostly because she thought she might've offender Inle on their first brief meeting. She didn't really like admitting that she was scare of the brash guardian but honestly she was. It'd be fine with her if they didn't encounter them for a long while.
"Ooh, Labby and Taini can talk in my mind! It's called...talepthy or something," she grinned. She nodded thinking over things. She wondered why there were so many of them, too. She shrugged. "It'd be fun to ride on things...I think."
"Yes, she does seem to have that affect on him. I'll jot down our number for you." Anemone smiled, waiting til she had finished cleaning Brownie's wings to get up. She went to put the towel away in the kitchen stopping briefly to jot down her number for Smerdle, thankful that a notepad and pen were on the desk. "There you go," she said, sitting down and handing the paper to the woman.
"Well, if I ever go, I'll let you know if it's fun." He had come to the conclusion that with he and Brownie along, Smerdle might not have space or money for anyone else. He never worried about money, but he knew Mama thought about it a lot and that things like fun trips to ride on things used a bunch of it. But what did that matter really? He leaned over and whispered, "I'll find a way for you to come too."
Smerdle took the slip of paper and put it into her pocket with a smile. "I should give you mine too," she said. She rose and Brownie began to writhe, the toddler's good mood over. After a bit of a struggle, Smerdle made it over to the desk and scrawled her number on another paper scrap. She had to do it one-handed, so the paper shifted a lot but the numbers were still (thankfully) legible. "Sylvester?" she said, dodging baby parts.
The giraffe's head snapped up, looking a bit guilty even though he hadn't done anything wrong. "Yeah?"
"Say goodbye to Chailyn." She indicated Brownie with a slight lift of her arms so he would know them leaving wasn't his fault.
"'Kay." He clasped his arms around the other Tale and patted her on the back. "Thanks for helping with Morry," he said. "We'll see how she likes it with no friends." Feeling that was a little harsh, he pulled back and smiled. "I'll see you again soon!" he added excitedly.
Chailyn grinned glad to know he'd find a way for her to go with. She didn't think about money either but with all her siblings it might be hard to buy anything. To her it was more like, what was one more? Nothing ever seemed to stop her mother from getting more kids. "And if I ever get to go, I'll invite you along too!" she whispered.
A frown soon appeared across her lips as she heard Smerdle. She gave a sigh before pasting a smile on and returning Sylvester's hug. "I'll see you soon, Sylvester!" she piped up, "Bye, Sylvester's Mommy and baby!" She had no idea how odd that sounded.
"Thanks, Smerdle," Anemone said accepting the slip of paper. She'd add to her address/phone book when she got home so she wouldn't lose it. "It was nice meeting you Brownie and you Sylvester."
Sylvester broke the hug and stood up, still reluctant to leave. "'Kay. It was really fun to see you," he said with a smile. He made his way over to Smerdle's side, looking up at Anemone shyly. He never really had much to say to adults, but if Chai was any indication, Chai's mom must be a nice lady. "Nice to meet you too."
Brownie was in no mood for social niceties. She stopped squirming, but directed a scowl at the top of Sylvester's head. The woman with the towels had been nice enough, but Sylvester was always deserving of some small amount of hatred, even if he wasn't looking.
"Thank you Chailyn, it was great meeting you as well," Smerdle said to the girl. "I'm sure Brownie would say the same if she wasn't mad." Which pretty much ruled out 96% of the time, but the little Tale didn't need to know that. "You too Anemone. And thank you for watching Sylvester. Bye!" She would have shaken the woman's hand, but she didn't currently have one free. Instead, she nodded and crossed the room to the door, which she pushed open with her back. With one last wave from Sylvester, they made their way out of the shop into the chilly afternoon air.
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Posted: Sat Jan 28, 2006 7:03 pm
Sylvester
Smerdle's House, Outside Aekea, Gaia
Saturday, January 28th, 2006 | 8:11am GST
Everything was bendy. Sylvester tossed and turned in a crazy Super Monkey Ball, rolling and bouncing around the rooms of his house. He was curled in a ball, neck tight against his legs, and it was awesome. It was the bendiest he had been in a long time.
"Hey Brownie!" he said as he rolled past his cousin. She turned away and didn't answer, leaving behind a round, translucent orb as she approached the stairs to her room. She probably had better things to do, he thought as he rolled over the orb. Like sulk.
"Ow."
He awoke slowly, his Monkey Ball dream not that far from reality. He had rolled over in his sleep, and he was lying on something that poked into his shoulder painfully.
Mallory? That was his stupid babysitter. Uncle Chucky's niece. Dark blue flakes danced around her face and the crudely depicted cut on her palm. It all seemed terribly familiar.
He reached up without raising his eyes and put the globe on his nightstand. Another cold, plastic thing brushed his fingers as he pulled them back. Sylvester looked up to see another globe next to the first. What was going on?
Tim. Yeah, he knew Tim. Tim was the jerk who had started this recent cascade of weirdness that seemed to be enveloping his life. Mama lying, Morry leaving -- it was all this guy's fault. Sylvester squinted. Who put this here? He didn't look like that! He'd never... spewed blood from his mouth, at least he didn't think he had. Sylvester stood and crossed the room to his closet. Maybe if he got dressed and left, all the scary presents would go back to where they'd come from.
Sitting on the small shelf in the closet where he kept his rarely-used hairbrush and some other knick knacks was another snow globe, this one about as large as Sylvester's outstretched hand. Quin and Nan again? He had some questions for those two. He had no memory of the third person in the globe, but the bloody little figure filled him with such happiness and awe that he almost began to cry. He didn't like this at all.
Sylvester violently slammed the closet door and picked up the clothes he had worn the previous day. They would have to do. This was a little too much, even for someone who had been having the strangest week of his life.
He hurried down the hall, making no attempt to be quiet, but Smerdle didn't stir. He would just go out and get some air, and when he came back everything would be all right.
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Posted: Sat Jan 28, 2006 8:23 pm
One foot in front of the other. It had served him well in the past and hopefully it would get him somewhere now, because he sure as hell wasn't paying attention to where he was going. Life sucks and then you die. People on television liked to say that a lot. Or, he supposed, life sucks and then you get punched in the face by a trucker. He didn't think he'd ever heard that one. Sylvester blinked a couple of times, a tear sliding out of one eye and down his cheek. It meandered through his fur, cleaning a jagged streak in the dried blood that had smeared from his nose to most of the rest of his face. Like a Bob Ross tree trunk. Happy little trees. Wait. Where was he?
There was a time he might have been nervous, but so much had been going on lately that all he really felt was confused and a more than a little sore. Besides, this neighborhood wasn't so scary in the middle of the day, right? And that man wasn't talking to himself either. Sylvester lowered his head and sped up, shoving his hands into his pockets.
Little boys who had more in common with giraffes than humans were not a usual sight in Ambrus's neighborhood. Probably in large part because anything that strange-looking would quickly find itself ridiculed or attacked, which explained, certainly, why the assassin hadn't let Ameretat outside by himself, day or night.
Much to his dismay, however, the little bird liked the neighborhood, as bad as it was--liked talking to the schizophrenics and the homeless in his strange, twittering language; liked being outside, day or night, and never seemed to SLEEP. Not that Ambrus was much one for sleeping, either, but he did sleep occasionally and knew he'd pay the price for it when he didn't--Ame, on the other hand, seemed to have completely boundless energy.
That man Sylvester had noticed was a regular of the neighborhood, and one Ame was growing much friendlier with than Ambrus liked. Nor was he talking to himself--at least, not for long. A blur of white and gold with feathers everywhere, Ame went bounding down the sidewalk with a trilling cry of, "'Arrooold!" The schizophrenic actually looked up, out of his internal ruminations, and mumbled some sort of greeting to the little bird in a language that certainly wasn't English.
Ambrus followed at a sedate distance, keeping his good eye on his kid and the rest of his senses on the neighborhood. "Harold" was mostly harmless, but all it would take would be for Ame to set him off, and then they'd be in for it. Fortunately, the bum didn't seem to understand Ame's language any better than Ambrus did, so it didn't look like there could be too much harm there. Even so...
The scent of blood, attenuated as it was in the winter air, caught Ambrus's attention. He took his eye from Ameretat and "Harold", trusting that the little bird would start screaming if something went wrong, and... Was that a giraffe? Ordinarily, he wouldn't've cared about anyone walking bloodied through this neighborhood--it happened so OFTEN--but acquiring a Tale had twigged him in to the peculiar magical signature of the Tome's children. Which begged the question of what was one of those doing out here?
Casting another glance over toward Ame and his "friend", Ambrus took several quick steps to intersect Sylvester's path. "Kid. Are you all right?" Devoid of inflection, the question didn't sound particularly worried.
Was that emotionless quasi-greeting directed at him? Sylvester looked down at Ambrus' feet, stopping a few steps short of impact. He wondered briefly if this guy had ever been told not to talk to strangers, because a bloody giraffe was certainly strange, but then Sylvester looked up into the man's face. Whoa, this guy was definitely the stranger here. At least monotonous man was clean and able to speak in full sentences. Still, that scar...
Oh, what the hell. "Not really," Sylvester muttered, lowering his head and raising his hand so he could rub at the side of his face. On any other day, that would have been quite an achievement, since he hadn't been able to do it since the middle of last year. Oh well. Since this man hadn't produced a weapon or started speaking in tongues, Sylvester thought it might be okay to ask him a question. "Do you know where I am?
Ameretat's asymmetric conversation with the crazy guy wound on in the background, a barrage of high-pitched chirping meeting with toothless mumbles and mutters. Ambrus fancied he could probably keep track of the little bird just by listening in, and right now, Sylvester commands a little more of his attention. The little giraffe's assessment of the situation was met with no real surprise; most people Ambrus knew who could be leaking a pint of blood out their nose and still be "okay" weren't Sylvester's age.
The half-faceless made a quick review of his plans for the day. Nothing that couldn't be put off for another hour or so to make sure this kid got back home intact. "A bad neighborhood. Where are your parents?"
Meanwhile, over on Ame's end, "Harold" had apparently decided the little bird was another figment of his imagination and begun talking to a stop sign instead. Ame semaphored for the man's attention with his arms and wings, giving an arpeggio of querying whistles--before deflating when his friend at last turned away from him. Awww--but he'd been so interesting. Oh well! Wheeling on one foot, Ameretat raced back to where Ambrus and Sylvester were--and hauled up short, eyes widening with curiosity at the newcomer. Hey, was that blood?
He finally heard Ameretat, but the little Tale registered as nothing more than a mid-volume twittering. Sylvester didn't turn to see where it was coming from, partly because it hurt, but mostly out of fear of whatever was making the noises. He imagined a Sesame Street Muppet gone horribly, horribly wrong and curled his toes in his shoes, attempting to affix himself to the ground more permanently. Who knew what unsupervised Muppets could do to a person.
"We live in Aekea. Mama and me. I left this morning, before she woke up." He wondered if home was far away now. For all he knew, he might have been on a bus sometime today. He was certainly exhausted enough to have walked the whole of Gaia.
When the chirping stopped, Sylvester didn't think much of it until Ameretat slid to a stop beside him. He knew he shouldn't be one to mentally accuse others of looking odd, but this kid wasn't wearing any pants. The only other humanish bird Sylvester had ever met still kind of scared him, but he supposed he shouldn't lump this one into the same category until he proved he belonged there.
"Hey," he said to Ameretat, waving slightly. "I'm Sylvester."
Ameretat warbled at being acknowledged, shaping his expression into as much of a smile as he could manage and waggling his fingers. "'Ey," he parroted. "Am Ameretat." He made a few more noises that approximated English words, before giving up in frustration. Whistling would suffice, a rapid series of notes spilling from his beak as he gestured eagerly at Sylvester. It won a brief--almost amused--glance from his parent, before Ambrus's usual mask of impassivity settled once again.
"Aekea." Wasn't too far out of Ambrus's way, though taking this kid all the way back there would be an inconvenience. Probably too much of an inconvenience to warrant doing it--though Ame, damn him, already seemed very interested in the strange Tale. And when Ameretat got it in his mind to do something, Ambrus had found, it was very difficult to convince the Tale otherwise, or divert him from his task.
"Not too far out of our way. This is Barton." The slummy nether edges of Barton, but Barton nonetheless. Not that Ambrus wanted to leave the kid out here, either, but it would be a hell of a lot easier to call his mom to come pick him up. The street, though, was not exactly the place to be having this discussion.
"If you want to get cleaned up and call your mom, my place isn't far from here." And maybe the social interaction would keep Ame from talking to schizophrenics. The little bird was already investigating Sylvester's bloodied nose with entirely too much interest, whistling and warbling in a way that sounded, if anything, consoling.
"Hi." The whistling was pretty, but beyond recognizing that it was an extension of his greeting, Sylvester had no idea what Ameretat was going on about. He smiled at the bird's wild gesticulations, but it was brief. He really didn't feel well.
"Oh, Barton." He had been to Barton a bunch. Between the Stationery Store and his uncle's pawn shop, it was almost a second home. It actually had been his home for a while too. Hmm. He supposed none of those places were in this part or something would have been recognizable.
Sylvester nodded at Ambrus' suggestion, but kept his eyes on Ameretat as the smaller Tale examined his injury. "It's not so bad," he lied, trying to be reassuring. "I was just doing something I shouldn't've been."
Which probably came as no surprise, all things considered. Ameretat--fortunately--didn't keep up the same monologue he had with "Harold"; it didn't take him long to figure out that Sylvester wasn't exactly tracking what he was saying. A deep breath in, a whistle out, before the little bird shook himself all over with a violent rearrangement of his feathers. "'Ome," he squeaked, looking between Ambrus and Sylvester, before pattering over to offer a hand to the other Tale. It wasn't even something he thought about; he was Supposed to lead people.
Ambrus merely watched the two Tales assort themselves, before giving a minimal crooking of his hand over one shoulder. "Looks like you got in a fight with a trucker and lost," he remarked. "It isn't broken, is it." The nose. Something itching around Ambrus's brainstem said it probably would have looked a little worse if it had been.
The walk back to Ambrus's apartment was a surprisingly short one. He hadn't really thought about the fact--though he'd made note of street numbers as they crawled by--Ame's peregrinations made for very little forward progress despite an awful lot of walking. In short order they stood outside a dingy apartment highrise that had definitely seen better days; Ambrus bypassed the grease-smeared glass doors, headed for the fire escape in the scrofulous alley to the side of the building. Shadowy things took off running as he mounted up the creaking steps two at a time, offering only an "up," as indication of where the kids were supposed to go.
What had Mama said about going off with strangers? Well, nothing really, but he had seen something about staying away from them on TV and it had always seemed like wise advice until now. He doubted Sesame Street had ever had a very special episode about what to do if you or someone you know is bleeding and lost in a strange neighborhood. Besides, one of the strangers was a Tale, after all. At least Sylvester thought so. He reached out for Ameretat's hand, resigning himself to being dragged along somewhere if it got him off of the street.
"I won. Kinda. I guess," he told Ambrus. "I don't think it's broken. Just kinda throbby." He reached up with his other hand and touched his bloody nose again. "Nope." It didn't feel as bad as he imagined 'broken' would, but he didn't really have anything to compare it to.
After a bit of walking, Sylvester found himself being led into an alley. Oh great. At least it wasn't the alley that had started this mess. He followed Ambrus up the stairs, nervously glancing at the skittering things every few seconds. Maybe they would climb in a window, like in a movie or something. That would be cool.
If Ambrus wanted to, he could've probably made a killing in the kidnapping business, as opposed to--making a killing by killing pe-- Regardless, it was something he might put a little thought to later. Not his place to be telling parents to keep their kids off the street, and all that--much as he imagined he might need to imply to Sylvester's mother she needed to keep her kid out of neighborhoods like Ambrus's.
Or maybe not, given Sylvester's comments. "You won." Good for him. "Suppose you'll need to tell us about that later."
Ameretat, too, had an appreciative if somewhat worried whistle for Sylvester's declaration. So long as he won, everything was okay, right? Fortunately for the conquering hero, and despite Ambrus's long-legged stride, the little bird didn't try to hurry the other Tale along too quickly. He knew the way back home--and his father had always slowed down before if he lagged behind! "Won? Who 'urrt you?" Ame inquired as they walked, having had some time to figure out the English words for what he wanted to say.
Sadly, while Ambrus was interested in avoiding the kind of confrontation he'd get by going through the lobby of the building with two kids--one with a nosebleed--in tow, he wasn't so fixed on secrecy as to try and lead the little assemblage through a window. It would only end in tears; besides, there were some perfectly operational doors leading out onto the landings. The half faceless stopped at the third to the top, kicking an abandoned flowerpot off of it with a sotto voce mumble about the fire marshal. (It smashed somewhere in the alley below, to a chorus of not-quite-ratlike noises from the skittering things.) It took but another moment for him to find his keys, unlocking the door and easing it open in a silence that belied its antiquated state. Waited, to usher the kids inside, before stepping into the ill-kept hallway behind them.
"Second door down. On your left." It would be locked, unless Jenner had decided to make another surprise visit. In which case Ambrus decided--not so mournfully--that he'd have to be indited for matricide.
In all fairness to the crazy trucker guy, Sylvester had started it. He hadn't meant to do what he did, at least not at first. At first he had been eager to get as far away from the twitchiness as he could, but after he found what was causing it, he couldn't have left even if he hadn't already changed his mind about sticking around. That band-aid...
And the taste... Sylvester licked his upper lip, getting some of his own dried blood in his mouth. Nope, nothing. The trucker guy must have been special. He had some sort of... crack in his veins. Or candy! Candy that caused children of all ages to bite him. That was it. It wasn't Sylvester who was the freak at all.
"I bit a guy. I pulled his band-aid off and I bit him." Wow, that sounded dumb. "I won't bite you," he said to Ameretat. He couldn't guarantee Ambrus might not be next on the list, but the Tale remembered how disinterested he had been in Nalira's blood, and somehow he knew that given the opportunity, Ame's would have been the same. Tales just weren't all that tasty. Sylvester didn't mention the fact that after the biting, the man had shot out a bunch of blue light and disappeared into thin air. He wasn't sure he would ever tell anyone that part.
At least his day had been an interesting one. But, like someone from another country had said a long time ago, interesting stinks. Sylvester made his way down the hall, but stopped at the door he had been told they were heading to. He didn't want to just barge in first, after all.
Pulled off a guy's band-aid and--Ambrus stepped up behind the kids, keys still in hand, and leveled a bland look on the back of Sylvester's head. "Don't make me regret inviting you inside," he commented. Vampire giraffes. This was getting weirder and weirder, though at least it was a weird that didn't leave Ambrus feeling more homicidal than usual. He gestured the kids aside, unlocked the door, and kicked it open.
"Phone's in the kitchen, down the hall that way." A gesture on "that way" gave the proper direction to the comment, before Ambrus leaned his back against the door. "I'll be along." Bland and somehow ominous, as he cast a look back down the hallway. "Ame, be good."
The little bird fluffed up the feathers of his shoulders, giving a bubbling warble of amusement. Whether it was to the admonition that he "be good" or the biting comment--likely the former, but... "Won't bite," he repeated. "Bad idea. Don't want to 'urrt you." He released the other Tale's hand, pointing inward toward the kitchen in echo of his Author's gesture, then tapped a finger against his own arm.
"Blood. Is 'ot. Verrry 'ot." See, it wasn't a threat! Just a simple warning. "Phone? Phone, phone, phone..." Making a come-along gesture, Ame ambled down the hallway toward the kitchen, hanging a left at a cracked and broken entryway. The wall was almost more cracks than plaster; if the carpet and ceiling weren't equally dingy, it might have made a nice design statement. Ame simply brushed by it, apparently completely unaware of the fact his surroundings were falling apart.
"Phone!" A declarative point of one feathered hand, accompanied by another of those warbled phrases. The phone, at least, looked new.
Back in the doorway, Ambrus shut his eyes and scrubbed at his temple with the heel of one hand. He had to be seeing things--there was no other explanation for it. Sadly, that was not an explanation he much enjoyed.
Casting a brief, stiff-necked look behind him as he entered, Sylvester held back a protest to Ambrus' comment. He wasn't going to do anything bad! And surely he wasn't a real vampire that needed to be invited indoors, at least he hoped not. Sylvester's brow furrowed until he quickly came to the conclusion that Ambrus was probably kidding. Probably.
He smiled when Ameretat dropped his hand and remarked on the temperature of his blood. What? The other Tale did feel warmer than a normal person, but hot? Like chocolate! Sylvester's eyes lost focus for a moment before he snapped back to the present. Ew? Stopppp itttt!
Now that he was actually inches away from a means of contacting his mother, Sylvester felt a little apprehensive. He had received mysterious gifts from Guaxa before and it hadn't caused him to run away and participate in strange bloodsucking rituals. Then again, his presents had never implied that he was, let's face it... a freakish vampire. Mama might understand.
"Thank you," he said. He picked up the phone and dialed his home number, leaning awkwardly to one side to hear the electronic ringing.
Hi, you've reached Smerdle and if this is Sylvester, you'd better get the hell home because I'm out looking for you and I'm not really mad, but where are you? Come. Home.
The machine beeped and Sylvester hung up. Temporarily forgetting about his bloodied face, he said, "She's not there. I should go home." She was bound to be back soon, and Sylvester would rather tell her what had happened in person than through a stupid machine.
"Welcome!" Ame replied, ably. He'd gone cross-eyed for a moment there as Sylvester had faded out, watching the other Tale with unabashed and solemn-eyed curiosity. He politely directed his gaze toward the floor, though, when Sylvester went for the phone, giving a little flick and rustle of his wings. After a moment, a thought seemed to occur to him, and he pattered deeper into the kitchen. Another moment, and the sound of a tap being opened and water running filled the air.
Ambrus stepped into the kitchen just as Sylvester made his declaration, somehow managing not to make a sound despite the creakiness of the floorboards. "Get the machine?" he asked, blandly, then, without waiting for an answer: "Great. Suppose you'll need a ride home."
The tap elsewhere shut off with a squeak, and Ameretat returned with a click-click of claws on vinyl tile, a handful of wet paper towels in hand. "Rrride 'ome?" he chirped, stopping next to Sylvester and his Author, glancing between them. At length he remembered his errand, and offered the towels to Sylvester--they'd already begun picking up warmth from his hands, letting off little curls of evaporated moisture.
"If he wants it, yeah, Ame." Ambrus wrinkled up his nose--that was the last of their paper towels, which meant they'd need to go shopping again today. Peachy.
A ride? It would be better than the bus, after the day he'd been having. "If it wouldn't be too big of a deal..." he said quietly, not sure how to respond to Ambrus' overall monotony. Sylvester was getting quite adept at making use of public transportation, but a car would be quicker and he wanted to get home soon.
He took Ame's paper towels with a nod of thanks and began to furiously rub at his cheek, where the blood from his nose had smeared. The warmth of the towel was nice, even if Sylvester didn't quite understand how the other Tale could be so hot all the time without taking a lot of breaks or something. He pat at his nose more gingerly. It felt puffy, and he hoped he didn't look like too much of a freak. He didn't feel like attracting the attention of anyone else, no matter how nice they had turned out to be. "Okay." His hand fell back to his side and he looked around for a garbage can of some sort. "Thanks for bringing me here and stuff," he added. He could only imagine what might have happened if he'd been out on the street until dark.
"Honestly, it's out of our way. But it would be a bigger deal if we didn't get you back home." That, and Ame likely wouldn't let him hear the end of it--or see, since the little bird was more prone to looking unhappy than he was to whining. Ambrus, on that thought, reached over and ruffled his Tale's feathers almost without thinking about it. It provoked a warble out of the bird, who then turned his attention back to Sylvester with as much of a smile as he could give with a beak.
"Welcome!" Ameretat chirped, giving a cheerful bob of his head. Sylvester did look much healthier without blood smeared all over, which definitely brightened Ame's outlook on things.
"Trash can's over there," Ambrus added, more helpfully, and gestured--at a beat-up plastic thing that looked like it had caught worse than bloodied paper towels in its time. "Let me get my coat and we can go." He stepped out of the kitchen, disappearing down the hallway with that same eerie silence. Ame watched him depart, before turning back to the other Tale, canting his head to one side.
"Need anything else?" Worriedly, and then, more curious: "Why werrre you out herrre?" Not that Ame's neighborhood wasn't interesting and full of all manner of fascinating things, but he'd never seen another Tale in it. Furthermore: "Not to get 'urrrt, one hopes!"
How did he do that? Sylvester watched Ambrus move silently down the hall and idly wondered if he might manage something like that with practice. Sure, he could sneak around now, but it took a lot of effort.
"Oh no," Sylvester said, his answer suiting both of Ameretat's questions but actually meant to answer the second. "I just wanted to get out of there. I got off of the bus and just couldn't stop walking. I didn't think I had gone so far. I've never run away before." And he never would again as far as he was concerned. He inched his way over to the garbage can and threw the wadded up towel in it. "There were some weird things in my room this morning and I couldn't stay." He shifted his weight, smiling as he forced a creak out of the floor. "I like your house." It might have been run down, but at least there were things in it. Since the move, Sylvester's home was severely lacking in stuff.
Training, mostly. A lot of what Ambrus took for granted where his abnormal skills of sneaking were concerned was training that had taken hold in his bones. He didn't open doors without easing them up on their hinges to avoid a squeak; didn't shut them if he could avoid it and ghosted them closed when he did.
If Ameretat weren't so weird all on his own, he'd probably be bothered by his Author's habits of sneaking about. As it was, though, he had something more interesting to pay attention to in Sylvester--and he gave a curious trill as the Tale explained how he'd come to be in their neighborhood. "Things? Weirrrd things?" He flared his wings, then refolded them with a rustle of feathers, suddenly looking agitated. "Did they follow? Will make them go away!" This, too, felt Right--though he calmed down immediately as Sylvester remarked on their house, rustling his wings again.
"Is a good 'ouse. Verrry good." Ame gave that affable beak-gape that passed for a smile with him. "Old. Interrresting."
"And falling apart." This last was from Ambrus, who had returned to the kitchen in the same silence he'd left it, black longcoat draped over his shoulders and a ring of keys in his hands. "Interesting, though. You kids ready to go?"
Sylvester shook his head. "Don't worry, not alive things! They were just snow globes." Again he felt kind of dumb after this revelation, but the day he met some people who woke up in the midst of a bunch of tacky travel items that seemingly told their life stories was the day someone could make fun of him for it. Sylvester had some people he wouldn't mind Ame's protection from, but they weren't his top priority at the moment.
"Yeah, interesting," he echoed. "Better than boring." He wished he had time and permission to look around, but as it was, he was still kind of tired. He nodded at Ambrus. He was more than ready to get back home.
"Snow globes?" Ame echoed. That was one he'd need to refer to Father; he wasn't quite sure precisely what a snow globe was. It didn't sound particularly ominous, especially since they weren't alive, but he'd heard some bad things about snow in his time. He looked away from Sylvester as Ambrus stepped in, nodding almost in time with the other Tale in return to his Author's question.
"All right. Let's go." The half-faceless made another of those little "come-along" gestures, returning to the entryway and heading for the door. Ame looked back at Sylvester, mimicking his Author's gesture, before pattering after Ambrus. The car was, fortunately, parked not too far from the fire escape they'd scaled in the first place.
Sylvester followed along behind the others, taking a last look around at what he could see of the apartment. "Snow globes're glass things with fake snow and stuff inside," he said absently. "The stuff is like Gambino and animals if you were at the zoo. Little ones." He wished he had brought one to show Ame because he knew this description was going nowhere. "But mine had little statues of my babysitter and this guy I met the other day and stuff. They were all bleeding." It was good to talk about the freaky snow globes since he'd be seeing them again soon. "I shouldn't have gotten so scared." Sylvester had a pretty good idea now where that trucker had disappeared to even though he might not want to admit it. Maybe he'd be as happy as that Tim guy was the next time he saw him.
He stepped out the door and glanced down the hall at the fire escape. "There again?" he asked, stalling so he wouldn't have to be the first in the alley.
"There again," Ambrus replied, evenly. Then--as if picking up on the Tale's unease--he added, "They don't come out into the light. They shouldn't be a problem." That said, he headed back toward the "emergency" exit at the end of the hall, propping it open with a foot long enough for the Tales to catch up before he started down.
Almost as if of its own volition, the flowerpot he'd kicked off earlier had come back. Ambrus kicked it back off again, repeating the distant CRASH and skittering from the alley below that followed.
Sylvester's explanation of the snow globes won an appreciative whistle from Ameretat. Likely the little bird's shorthand for an "aha!". "Rrremembrrrances," he remarked on them. "Places you went, things you did?" He canted his head to one side as they walked down the hallway, and added, "Memorrries--sometimes scarrry to face them, yes?"
They should have been his memories, but though he had lived them he doubted they ever would be. He still remembered this morning though. Hopefully, he would never forget again. Sylvester nodded. "I'll face them soon," he said softly. He had questions that he couldn't voice yet, but he would. Between Mama and the people in Guaxa, he would get answers.
He stuck close to Ambrus, trusting what the man had said about whatever they were. Sylvester didn't doubt they'd stay away, but that didn't make this neighborhood any less dangerous in his eyes.
He turned back to Ameretat as he descended the fire escape. "Have you been... around long?" Sylvester remembered the day he had come out of the Tome with mixed clarity, but he wasn't sure if any of the others did. Did you ever meet any other Tales?"
Ameretat whistled at this, finding reason a moment later to fall silent as he negotiated his way down the fire escape. Memories--he didn't have many of his own that made sense, but if memories in this world showed up in snowglobes in your room one morning, he'd wait to see what they might look like. Perhaps they'd be illuminating, or maybe he'd run away from home like Sylvester had...
The little bird looked over as the other Tale asked him a question, a half-vocalized warble in his throat. "Arrround?" he asked, as if clarifying the concept for himself. At last he gave a brief bob of his head and bounded down two steps of the fire escape. "Not long. Days. Met Tybalt! A brrotherrr, with wings--" He hopped down another step, giving a flick of his own wings.
"Wrrrong colorrrs, but wings." Another hop, which made the fire escape creak dangerously as the little bird landed at last on the ground of the alley. Ambrus glanced back over his shoulder at the Tales, one brow quirked, but no real question in the look he gave them. They were following, good enough for him; he'd let them chatter so long as they did, and get the odd little group to his car meanwhile.
Interesting. Tybalt had been nearly the first Tale he had met as well. From what he had seen of the other bird at Christmas, Sylvester wasn't sure he wanted to meet him again. He had seemed calm enough, but he was so much bigger.
Sylvester dropped to the ground behind Ameretat and busied himself with brushing off his coat and pants. "Can you fly?" he asked quietly, peering out of the alley to see if he could identify Ambrus' car.
Perhaps not surprisingly, Ambrus's car was the only one in the neighborhood that looked like it hadn't been broken into or torched in the past week. Someone had keyed the doors, though, leaving the silvery-gray paint flaking in places, but otherwise none the worse for wear. It was a literal hop and skip down the street from the shaky fire escape, twenty yards if you were being generous. Ambrus stopped beside the car when he reached it, unlocking it but leaning slant-hipped against it as he waited for the kids to catch up. Never could be too careful in this neighborhood.
"Fly?" Ameretat waited for Sylvester to put himself in order, before giving a trilling noise like unto a laugh. "Glide, a little. Not flying. Not yet. Will fly, though!" He pattered over to Ambrus and the car, peering up at his parent before looking into the vehicle--as if seeing it for the first time.
Ambrus didn't so much as look impatient as he tapped his Tale on his feathery head and motioned toward the door. "C'mon, Ame. In the car. Nothing you haven't done before."
Tagging along behind by a couple of steps, Sylvester reached the car in time to witness the tail end of the exchange between Tale and guardian. Maybe Ame hesitated on his way into the car because he thought it was going to explode! Or maybe not. The only other car Sylvester had ever ridden in, his uncle's, was probably worse off, but the rest of the cars on this block appeared ready to burst into flames at any moment, so why not Ambrus'? He nodded to the bird, ready to follow him into the possibly awesome exploding death trap.
Sylvester needed a nap.
Everyone piled into the car. This is largely unremarkable except for the fact the car definitely did not explode as Ambrus started it up, and Ameretat refused to put his seatbelt on.
Not that Ambrus had, either. They were living in dangerous times, this Author and his Tale. "Tirrred?" Ame inquired of his fellow-Tale, pausing to rearrange his wings and tailfeathers on his side of the car. Then rearranging them again when the first arrangement ended up with his tail uncomfortably cramped and his wings smushed up against the window.
Ambrus's attention was on the road, and so he didn't so much as remark when he briefly got a fluffy golden primary up near his ear. "Mmf," Ameretat grumbled, then whistled to himself in Avestan as he made a third and a fourth attempt at rearranging himself to take up the least amount of space without damaging his feathers. This was probably unintentionally comedic, right down to the scowl of annoyance on the little bird's face.
Now Sylvester knew why he was thankful he didn't have wings, or a cumbersome tail for that matter. He nodded at Ame's question before leaning forward to stare over the seat and out the window, looking for anything familiar.
"That whistling. Are you saying stuff?" he inquired.
Ameretat was just about to rearrange himself a fifth time as Sylvester spoke up, and he looked over instead at the other Tale--before nodding solemnly. "Yes. Old language. Know..." He tapped one finger against his feathery temple, trying to get the point across. "Always know it. Not so 'arrrrd...to talk." He gaped his beak in thin amusement, and shifted his wings again.
Then he made a quiet noise of dismay, and turned all the way around to sit backward on the back seat, leaning back against the empty passenger seat. This time his whistling sounded almost relieved. "...sorrry! Don't like--need rrroom, forrr wings."
From the look of things out the window, they were on the outskirts of Aekea. "So what street am I looking for?" Ambrus cut in on the conversation between the two Tales, not taking his eyes from the road.
"Oracle. Seventeen twenty-three." Smerdle had once threatened to sew their address in his underwear while she was making the tail holes, so he had taken the time out of his busy television-watching schedule to memorize it. He supposed he was thankful now.
Sylvester tried to hide a smile at Ame's solution to his problem. At least there was a tradeoff for the awesome ability to fly he would eventually have. "It's okay. That's a cool way to sit." He would have tried it, but he was still concentrating on the road. He poked at his face and hoped that bruises didn't show much through fur.
"Cool," Ameretat echoed, doing his best to frown around his beak. "O-K."
Ambrus merely nodded as Sylvester repeated the address to him. The rest of his attention was on the road, for good reason: Maybe thirty seconds after he had the address, he blandly cut through two lanes of oncoming traffic and cheated a little white riceburner out of a parallel spot by the curb.
Turning around to rest an elbow on the edge of his seat, the half-faceless glanced back at Sylvester, before indicating the nearby house with a jerk of his head. "That seventeen twenty-three Oracle?" he inquired.
Ameretat was unplastering himself from the rear passenger-side window, grumbling in Avestan as he did.
Sylvester grabbed at the seat as best as he could, trying not to squeal or make any other embarassing noises as the car jerked sideways and came to a stop. It took him a second to look out the window, but when he did, he saw his lopsided, old house, sitting there as calmly as always. He nodded.
"Thank you," he whispered. Sylvester opened the door and slid out onto the curb. If he knew Mama, she would be out looking for him. "I guess I'll see you... around?" He stepped away from the car, imagining that Ambrus might drive away at any moment and pull his arm off.
Ameretat finally got himself unglued from the window, losing a covert in the process. He grabbed the little feather, staring intently at it as if it had betrayed him, before tucking it back in among the rest of his feathers. Then, on second thought, he shook it loose and handed across the back seat to Sylvester. "Surrre! Happy to see you again; just with no blood, O-K?" the little bird managed, gaping his beak in a smile.
Ambrus had by now rolled down the window so he could rest one arm on it, tapping the fingers of his other hand on the steering wheel of the car. "Sure," he echoed his Tale's comment. "We know where you live, now."
Given his line of work, that probably wasn't at all comforting.
Sylvester reached a hand across the seat and wrapped careful fingers around the feather. A present? Cool! "Oh no, no more blood," he assured. Not if he had anything to say about the matter, at least. He fumbled around for something to give Ameretat in return but could only come up with a penny and the a twist-tie from an old loaf of bread. He'd have to find a gift for the other Tale later. "Thanks." Checking for stray wings and other appendages, he swung the car door shut.
The giraffe looked over as Ambrus addressed him. "Yeah," he said, completely missing the ominous irony of the man's statement. "I'd better go inside." Maybe if he got in there before Smerdle came back, he could pretend he had been home all along. Doubtful, but it was worth a shot. He took a few more backward steps toward the house before turning and waving at the car.
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Posted: Sat Mar 18, 2006 3:12 pm
Smerdle
Smerdle's House, Outside Aekea, Gaia
Saturday, January 28th, 2006 | 7:34pm GST
It had been hours since this morning, hours since Smerdle had started out to look for Sylvester. Her son. She had always called him that, in her head and out of it, because she had always thought of him that way. But only today, only after she had seen those things in his room, did she understand that she had been an integral part of his creation. Without her, he might not be going through what he so obviously was.
She thought she understood - as poorly crafted as the globes were, she could still make out a kind of story in them, like some sort of crafty crack-addict's idea of a comic strip. That day back in April, almost a year ago now (had it really been that long?). The day Sylvester was born. The woman she had met. Sylvester had a reason for being. She didn't really understand what that reason was, but she knew the Tale shouldn't be alone.
A tear pricked Smerdle's eye, her right one, she thought absently, as she rounded the back of the house and saw Sylvester sitting by the picnic table, head down. She walked up behind him and cleared her throat, not wanting to startle him by tapping his shoulder first. He turned, looking guilty like he thought a punishment was eminent, but she just smiled and kneeled, hugging him close.
"I can explain," he said, hugging her back almost immediately.
"No you can't, can you?"
"Well, no, but I don't want to get in trouble."
"I'm not going to punish you," Smerdle said. She held him at arm's length, even though she was embarrassed at her tears. "I'm here to help you." She stood and held out her hand for him to hold. "Let's go clean up those snow globes."
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Posted: Sat Mar 18, 2006 3:13 pm
Interlude
Over the next month and a half, Smerdle reached out to Sylvester more than she ever had before, and that was saying something. She made time for him between frantic auditions, and even managed to be a caring guardian to Brownie every once and a while. Although he had sported a black eye for nearly a week after he had ran away, they never spoke of it. Smerdle assumed he'd tell her about it when he was ready, but that was looking less and less likely. She had promised to help him and to understand, and she was. It was just really, really hard.
~ ~ ~
People liked kids. He saw evidence of it all the time, but no example from real life was as close to his heart as Claudia was. Claudia from Interview with the Vampire. People trusted her. They came to her when she cried, they offered her dolls and she took what she wanted from them. Sylvester didn't cry, but he got what he wanted too.
If there were people alive who were using him, he was going to use some people too.
The memories of the things he had done came back quickly after he returned home. He remembered licking Mallory's hand that first time and the floor rushing up to smack into his face. They were the ones to pass out now. He figured it was some sort of personal defense that had gone horribly awry fresh out of the box, but he didn't think about it often. It left him just enough time to grab a couple of souvenirs, like some sadomasochistic claw game. He amassed quite a collection: spare change, keys, toothpicks, rings, even a pocketwatch. Who carried a pocketwatch nowadays anyway? They deserved to have it taken from them.
Quin and Nan hadn't tried to contact him, which was good because he didn't have much to say. He told Mama about them, but he didn't tell her much else. He knew how it hurt when you knew someone was keeping something from you, but he didn't think she should know about these things.
Everything was going fine, nobody suspected a thing and life was as good as it had been before that whole snow globe mess. Better even. But then, one ordinary old Saturday night, Sylvester had a dream and things started to change again.
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Posted: Sat Mar 18, 2006 3:15 pm
Sylvester
Smerdle's House, Outside Aekea, Gaia
Sunday, March 19th, 2006 | 4:11am GST
1.
His hands were ghostly white, the spots marking them dark and black. He wasn't wearing shoes or socks, and the ground was warm underneath him. It rumbled like that time he had been up in his room and Mama had been playing her loud music downstairs. He paused. Like a heartbeat.
second.
It had been a couple of hours now and the things were still following him. They kept to his pace and didn't really seem interested in going faster. He was tired of walking. He stopped for a rest. So did they.
c.
All work and no play makes Sylvester a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Sylvester a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Sylvester a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Sylvester a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Sylvester a dead boy.
iv.
They had sped up. There were two of them and they were dressed the same. They had the same dead faces and they had sped up. They were going to catch him. He really shouldn't have watched that movie. Mama had been sleeping on the couch and he had been getting a glass of water but he stopped and looked because someone was riding a Big Wheel and he was jealous. He had fallen asleep too. He really shouldn't have stayed. They held something out to him and... wait...
-
Were those Popeil Pocket Fishermen?
six.
Also makes julienne fries! Come and play with us, Sylvester! He began to run.
last.
Blood. It was everywhere. Dripping down the walls. On the little girls. On the Pocket Fishermen. On his bone-white hands. On his tongue. Closing over his...
Sylvester awoke suddenly, gasping for breath. Stupid movies. Stupid Stephen King. He stumbled out of bed, still half asleep, and zombied down the hall to Smerdle's room. He caught his breath at the door before climbing on her bed and pushing under the covers.
"Sylvester? What's wrong?" she asked, voice fogged with sleep.
"Mama?" he slurred. "Ron Popeil is a b*****d."
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Posted: Sun Mar 19, 2006 7:16 pm
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Posted: Mon Apr 17, 2006 9:52 pm
Sylvester
Smerdle's House, Outside Aekea, Gaia
Monday, March 20th, 2006 | 10:01am GST
He only woke up because he was in pain. Infomercial dreams ran in fear of this pain. He was choking, too. Lovely. He was in Mama's bed, he knew that. He had come here after the dreams. His glasses were on. He had left them on his nightstand. Had he? Something wasn't right. And there was still this choking problem.
"Mrr," Sylvester said into his pillow. He grabbed at his glasses and pulled them off, throwing them somewhere. His arms were longer. Or was his neck shorter? It was certainly one of the two.
"What is it?" Smerdle said. He felt the bed sink next to him as she sat up, the weight disappearing as she stood. He bounced around and toed the edge of the mattress. What were his legs doing all the way down there?
Smerdle screamed. Under all her moodiness lately, she was still an actress, capable of horror movie worthy screamage. Sylvester started and sat up too. His clothes were so tiny! That would explain the pain. And the choking. Was this how it had gone down for Nalira and Vidya and Aido and the other big kids he'd seen? Twilight Zone, for sure.
He pawed at the neck of his pajamas, yanking them open with a patter of freed buttons. "Weird," he mumbled, brushing hair out of his eyes and looking up at Smerdle. Hey! His voice had lost that stupid kiddie lisp he hadn't known he had hated until now! Most awesome!
"Sylvester?" Smerdle said.
"Who else would it be, Mama? Really."
"You're gigantic! Is there something you want to tell me?"
"I'm not gigantic, for crap's sake, Ma." He stood up, clutching his ruined shirt around his torso. His pants were little more than shorts now and... he was a couple of inches taller than his mother. Maybe he was gigantic. "Fine. Gigantic. Can I go get some clothes now?"
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Posted: Mon Apr 17, 2006 9:53 pm
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