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 Posted: Fri Jan 07, 2011 11:33 pm
Leslie did not feel guilty. Rather, he made others feel guilty, but not just any random person—it had to be Alois. Despite the man’s serious and quiet personality, he had a soft spot for children that the small Herald loved to take advantage of. This was probably why the college student somehow found himself taking Leslie to a nearby carnival.
The usual scowl on his face, Alois tightly gripped one of Leslie’s hands. He had a habit of magically squirming out of his grip or slipping out of sight—it almost made Alois think that Leslie had a magical power for running away from his guardian. Perhaps it was useful for Leslie, but it was incredibly frustrating for the poor lad. Being an awkward young parent was punishment enough.
“Please stay with me, okay?” he quietly pleaded while Leslie happily made grabbing attempts at anything interesting he saw: balloons, stuffed toys, cotton candy.
“Okay,” Leslie offhandedly lied, eyes constantly wandering around the new sights and sounds. Games, rides, and tons of people to discover! He was too stunned to decide what to go for first.
Until he spotted dull grey feathers. Light blue eyes widened and the winged child immediately ran towards the flash of light grey, his arm stretched out to curiously stroke the soft feathers. “Pretty!” he noted, leaning his neck forward to spot the red tips on some of the feathers.
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Posted: Sat Jan 08, 2011 12:47 pm
Okay. Okay. So carnivals usually weren't his sort of thing. Especially when he was by himself. But hey. Every once in a while you just had to succumb to the call of the bright lights and obscenely fattening foods.
And the rigged games.
Those can be hilarious.
However, at the moment Lind was currently just drifting around with the flow of the crowd, not really looking for anything or anyone in particular. Occasionally he'd wander out of the crowd to visit one of the stalls and play a game or get some food or a drink, or duck into one of the tents holding various acts, or even just stand off to the side and watch people walk by. It was during one of these times when he was just standing there when he felt something.
Something decidedly....not quite right.
A slow shudder slowly made it's way up his spine as he felt a hand begin to pet his wings.
Grhalksjrlkdfgdfglkjfdggggggggghhhhhhhhhh.
However, he would find that the feathers he was feeling were more metallic than soft, as if they had been cast or carved out of some sort of metal rather than growing as feathers.
Still. Having someone else feel them wasn't quite something Lind was used to, surprisingly.
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Posted: Sat Jan 15, 2011 2:17 pm
Wide blue eyes innocently stared up at the shuddering teenager. “What?” Leslie bluntly asked, his tone innocent with a tinge of annoyance. The child grinned and kept rubbing his hand against the unique feathers like he knew it bothered Lind, but was actually perplexed by their metallic texture. He thought that feathers were supposed to be soft and fuzzy, but these were strangely smooth! Leslie obliviously kept touching the wings without permission.
“Your wings are cool. I wish my wings were cool too!” Leslie enviously noted, leaning forward to stare at Lind’s dark, red-tipped wings. He was well aware of his wing’s unique guitar-like appearance and although he proudly showed them off to anyone he knew and did not knew for the first few weeks, it had quickly become boring. Staring at the same thing every day as one stared in the bathroom mirror got dull quick. Eventually Leslie tired of Lind’s wings and pulled his hands away from the older boy. “I’m Leslie. You?” He did not bother to apologize, what was there to apologize for?
Meanwhile, Alois helplessly strolled through the crowd in search of the lost child. Poor lad.
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Posted: Sun Jan 23, 2011 10:11 pm
That haaaad to be the strangest feeling ever, because apart from just the fact that people didn't really do it that often, some of the feathers were tugged in the wrong way, or the small barbs of the feathers got stuck on other ones, and it just felt like what he would imagine being a cat and being petted backwards would feel like.
"I, um..." Cool. Wings. Wish. Sometimes hearing things didn't work too well when you didn't expect there to be any. "Oh, thhhhanks? Though," he noted with a glance at the kid's back, "yours are pretty cool, too." Looked like a guitar or something. Maybe he could play them. Though that would be...an interesting sight if he could. "I'm, uh, Lind."
Clearly this wasn't his brightest moment ever.
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Posted: Fri Feb 11, 2011 5:05 pm
Leslie blinked and looked over his shoulder, ruffling his wings as he attempted to look them over. “I guess, but I think yours are cooler,” insisted the younger herald. He crinkled his eyebrows, staring at his wings for a few more seconds before turning back to Lind. “Hi. I’m Leslie.”
He casually reached over to grab one of Lind’s hands, pointing at a game. It was the typical ring toss booth, decorated by a plethora of large plushies and manned by a bored woman. “Let’s play that game!” The boy talked as if they were friends—even his tone seemed slightly commanding, like Lind had no choice but to follow Leslie’s demands.
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Posted: Sat Mar 05, 2011 3:30 pm
"Thhhanks?" He still hadn't quite gotten used to the rather upfront child, especially not the rather hands-on approach he had to things. Despite the kid's small size, he managed to effectively drag Lind off over to the game booth. He eyed the lines of bottles skeptically (he had never been good at this game, and the last time he played he was given something out of pity because he kept on losing) before glancing down at the kid, wondering if it was worth it to try and get out of this.
He somehow got the feeling that he would get commanded/dragged back if he tried to go.
Oh, bother.
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Posted: Thu Mar 17, 2011 9:46 pm
The bored woman, casually blowing up a pink bubble until it popped, pushed forward a waiting hand. “Each ball is one dollar,” she perfunctorily droned.
Leslie frowned. He already realized that the games were pricey, but it did not stop him from glaring at the employee, silently throwing a fit in his thoughts. With a sigh, the young boy rummaged around in the pockets of his jacket and reluctantly forked over a couple of crumpled dollar bills. “That okay?” He scowled, but the woman remained unfazed. Instead she mutely placed six balls—three for each of the boys—on the counter and stepped aside for the Heralds to take a shot.
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