|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Apr 07, 2009 7:13 pm
Tepin. She was Tepin. She repeated the word over to herself, time and time again. It had a strange and foreign ring to it. Something far beyond what the average person would know.
It was old. It had meaning. This much she could tell, just from hearing it. But what it meant, she could not say.
But, of course, she didn’t want to look stupid. Only a baby would ask what the name meant. Little did she know, that by and by, Mixcoatl had full access to the girl’s thoughts. But, chuckling to himself at her innocence and naivety, he had so kindly spared her the embarrassment of an explanation.
He would tell her, soon. Just not so soon to let her believe that he had heard her thoughts. Maybe he could pretend he hadn’t fully ‘moved in’ until later.
But, even by forcefully distracting herself from her situation with inconsequential thoughts, she could not shake the fear that had worked itself deep into her bones. It was night. It was late. There were people moving around the corner-- she heard them quite clearly laughing as they banged trashcans around. There was a yowling kitten in her arms-- she assumed it was what was driving the strange people to bang at trash cans and call for a “Puss Puss” in a crude voice.
Even Tepin could understand their intentions were less than kind-- despite Mr. Skinky’s protests, her arms clamped down hard, pressing him close to her body. A small hand covered his mouth-- though he spit and hissed-- she insisted, as her small body pressed tight against the wall.
Slowly, after going a few moments undetected, she sunk low against the wall, her leggings providing little warmth against the cold cement.
It was cold. Really cold. She didn’t think it would be so cold, at this time of year. It felt almost like the wall was sucking the heat right from her body. Tightly she gripped the angry, spitting kitten, unwrapping him from the blanket.
It was something, she thought, as she pulled her blanket over the two, gripping tightly the cat for a combination of warmth and his protection. At least she had something.
And something was always better than nothing… right?
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Apr 07, 2009 10:18 pm
Tezcatlipoca had forgiven him. Well, maybe not forgiven, but two days of watching his godling die of boredom on a couch and being harassed by mischievous visitors had soothed the god's annoyance. In fact, he'd been almost cheery when he'd deigned to finish healing the realm-inflicted wound.
Valeriu didn't ask questions. It was best not to when it came to that smirk upon Tezcatlipoca's face. His leg was healed, and he was free to throw himself back into work. His coworkers abstained from asking about his sudden recovery - chalking it up to the strangeness that was their Valeriu. But he had days to make up for, hours he'd lacked, money he needed to bring in.
Which was why he was out here, so late at night. He'd smuggled himself into the clean-up crew, the men and women who worked several hours after the shrill whistle had marked the end of the work day. Everything had to be organized, machinery had to be checked and double-checked to make sure all was powered off, and left-over materials had to be tossed into the recycle pile. It was nine, ten at night by the time he was released.
Tonight was especially chilly, and especially dark. He buried his hands into his sweatshirt pockets, walking the long trek home. It was probably especially dangerous, as well, but very few people were stupid enough to take on a teen-man whose eyes glowed blood-red in the dark.
The alleys passed by, one by one. And he walked by them, one by one. Was even about to pass yet another when a sound caught his attention, ears pricking up.
It was pathetic. It was sad. It was cold and scared, and it was making Vale cave so hard.
It was the sound of a kitten.
It was probably ironic, but he loved cats. When he was younger, he'd always tried to sneak strays into his home (thwarted, every time, by his mother). He thought he'd done pretty well with not taking up the added burden of an animal in the months he'd been sans parents.
Until he heard that noise.
It was so cold out, he reasoned to himself. It would freeze to death. And he wouldn't get any sleep, tossing and turning over wondering whether or not it survived the night.
Yes, he reasoned. He had to see if it was alright. It was crying so sadly-
He search led him to stumble onto something more than just a sad kitten. No, it was a sad kitten alright - clutched in the arms of a girl curled up under a blanket, looking half-dead already.
He didn't even need to think about it, kneeling down to inspect her. A pulse was good (even if too slow), breathing was even better - but he knew too well the dangers of a cold night, and she was freezing under his fingertips, unconscious and frost-bitten. He had to move fast, get her warm - but there was no hospital for miles that would let a strange thing like him in at these hours.
Decisively, he tugged off his sweatshirt, quickly pulling it over her. It was big enough (and she was small enough) that he could tuck it under her feet, and hopefully warm enough to start de-frosting her and her kitten. The mewling little thing he left in her arms - it wasn't going anywhere, shaking and cold and huddled against her and half-frozen itself. Lifting her into his arms, he left the alley in a quick and loping jog for his home, even as the wind bit against his bared skin. There, he could get a better look at her and treat her.
If she survived that long.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Apr 07, 2009 10:44 pm
Thmp Thmp Thmp Thmp Thmp!
Something… something was moving. Was it her? No. She was wrapped up-- cold despite this, but unable to really move in her situation.
Thmp Thmp Thmp Thmp Thmp!
She felt something on her stomach… Her fingers were wrapped tightly around it… fuzzy? Oh-- Mr. Slinky. He had probably climbed into her bed again.
Thmp Thmp Thmp Thmp Thmp!
But--… Beds didn’t’ move. Was there an earthquake?
No, she couldn’t hear anything rattling-- just a strange huffing noise.
Was someone in her room?
Her strange, blue-red eyes opened blearily, staring into a bright orange expanse. Everywhere her vision could reach: bright orange.
Where was she?
Blinking, her head raised ever so slowly, messy golden curls spilling over her face like a waterfall. Through the hair, she could see more than orange now--- not there was black, and red. Two tiny red suns bouncing in time together, as if they were running in place. Blinking, waiting, blinking some more, eyes slowly adjusted to the dark--
Oh. There was a person there… Someone was carrying her.
Her muscles relaxed. She must be okay, then. Mr. Miller was carrying her home. She’d be fine.
They were going to apologize, and everything was going to be all better.
Her lips twitched, before settling into a tired smile.
Everything was going to be okay.
And with that thought, consciousness slowly ebbed from her once more.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Apr 07, 2009 11:13 pm
He made it back to his house in record time that night, ignoring the chill in his own limbs in favor of turning up the thermostat, taking the steps two by two to his room.
Carefully and surely, he laid her out on the bed, piling blankets upon blankets and tucking them around her. The house was heating up, but a little extra help couldn't hurt. He checked her pulse again - still too slow. Pulling up his desk chair next to the bed, he ran a quick and warm hand over the kitten before facing his next task: making sure she didn't have hypothermia.
Hypothermia was dangerous and crippling, he remembered. He'd nearly fallen victim to it during his first rainy night in the jungle, waking to his fingers turning blue. So cold he couldn't even shiver.
Getting up, he raided the bathroom, quickly returning with a humidifier. Above all, he remembered, was getting the inside warmed - not just the outside. She was still breathing - warm and humid air was best for that. With the machine whirring warmly next to her head, he carefully pulled an arm out from under the blankets, checking her fingers for any damage, and then checking her toes.
Frostbite was another danger. Amputation sucked, hard. Hands cupping over hers, he rubbed as best as he could to warm the tiny hand up. Just a little bit of frostnip - she hadn't been out for very long, thankfully. Her feet soon got the same treatment, and then her other hand.
It was slow going, but she was warming up. He frowned, turning the humidifier up a few more degrees and sparing a hand to rub some warmth into the kitten as well, gratified to feel a purr under his fingertips.
But why had she been out there in the first place? Homeless? Orphan, a runaway?
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Apr 07, 2009 11:36 pm
She stirred as the feeling of rough material rubbed against her hands.
Was it Slinky? No. It was too big and not near wet enough.
But she was warm. The small smile retuned-- this was the best, when you are huddled up warm in bed, comfy as possible while the clock ticks on.
But the clock wasn’t ticking. No, the noise by her ear was something else entirely. More constant, louder. Her head turned, curls pressed against her pillow, as her eyes slowly opened to take in the humidifier. She didn’t know what it was, but it looked mostly harmless, whirring quietly to itself as little puffs of steam floated out from it.
Slowly, she pulled herself onto her elbows, cocking her head to look at just what this thing could be.
Movement caught her sleepy eyes, however, and her attention had to be diverted to other things. This was the first time she had seen him-- the man whom she had thought was Mr. Miller.
How wrong she had been. While Mr. Miller was a short, pasty, bespectacled man, this man seemed to be his exact opposite.
(He even had kitty ears! Much different from the Mr. Miller she knew, who loathed cats.)
Perhaps, Mixcoatl thought silently to himself, it would be better for her to meet him in this state-- it seemed that with her mind muddled from exhaustion and cold, the things that ought to see strange seemed fine. As if she could not let go of her strange, dream-like logic when the boy pulled her into consciousness. In any case, he was relieved. There was little he could have done to save his child from the elements, unlike from battle. Maybe… she was really, quite actually, fragile.
The girl blinked at him, unable to fully understand. She was still very much asleep, in her own way. The thought of talking had hardly even occurred to her.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Apr 07, 2009 11:49 pm
He looked up at her movements, relieved that she had returned to consciousness.
"Good," he hummed, more to himself than anything. Consciousness meant recovery, and her fingers and toes were safe. He tucked the blankets more snugly around her, ears flicking forward and back busily. "You are awake."
He carefully brushed the back of his hand against the side of her face, glad to see that more color had come into her cheeks and that he was met with warmth.
"And doing better," he added, before leaning back in the chair. "Ee't looks like you v'ill be okay."
And now she was awake. Vale had never saved a person's life before, much less dealt with taking them home. But he was curious, and the brother in him wouldn't stop worrying. She was tiny, and she'd been alone - what on earth had she been doing out there? To imagine his own sister in such a state chilled him just as much.
Girls weren't meant to be out on the streets. They were meant to be protected, and sheltered, and cared for.
So why?
He didn't ask all that, though. She didn't exactly look lucid enough to answer. He went for a simpler question.
"My name ee's Valeriu. V'hat ee's yours?"
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Apr 08, 2009 12:01 am
Her strange eyes blinked-- She was being spoken to! In a quick snap-- though not fully successful, the sound of his voice had startled her enough to wake to a state where she could at least respond.
“Te…pin…” The response was almost mechanical-- she had been saying the word to herself so often since she had been named, that is no longer held the meaning that it once had. The magic of the name had disappeared, leaving it a mere collection of sounds. Even despite knowing this to be her name-- it sounded strange to her own ears.
B-but… Her mind tried to come to terms with the situation, creaking to life with the stimulation the boy was providing to it. Where was she? His name… It was Val’riu-- or something… But who was he? Why did he have those ears? It made no sense.
She felt like Alice in Wonderland-- Suddenly nothing made sense anymore, and everything she had understand to be true had crashed down around her. If she walked outside, this little Alice feared that down might be up and the sky might be pink!
⁞⁞ Hush-- Little one. Just go with the flow. You have better things to concentrate on.
The sound comforted her-- she knew that voice at least. Even if it too was new and strange to her, at least he had tried to comfort her, and tell her what was what.
“Where… am I?”
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Apr 08, 2009 12:20 am
"You are ee'n Middling, ee'n my house," he answered, slowly and gently. He didn't want to scare her, or speak too fast for her to comprehend. "I found you, ee'n an alley."
He frowned, getting a better look at her eyes. They were oddly murky, cloudy, and he carefully checked her forehead with his hand for signs of a fever.
"V'ait here," he urged her to lay back, moving the kitten up closer to her with a strangely reassuring frown, concern obvious. "I v'ill get you some soup, da? You need to v'arm up more. You v'ere freezing."
Pushing the chair back, he was up and out of the room, heading down the stairs and intent on getting his unexpected guest some soup. Who knows how long it had been since she'd last eaten?
Three minutes and a microwave later, he was back up the steps; balancing bowl, spoon, a cup of water, and tinier bowls of cat food and more water in his hands.
So he had a bad habit of feeding stray cats. So he might've kept a bag or two of the stuff stored in the closet when it came to said stray cats.
It came in handy, didn't it?
That's what he told himself.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Apr 08, 2009 12:36 am
Her hands wrapped around her kitty as her body leaned back against the pillow.
She was perplexed. She was in an alley? She remembered fighting with her parents… B-But this? Did she run away? Shaking her head, she looked down at her kitten. He looked fine, albeit exhausted.
Good. At least no one was hurt.
Her toes wriggled as she heard a clinking noise coming up the stairs. She wondered if, maybe, just maybe, she should get up and help him.
But she was told to wait.
But he could need help!
Her mind couldn’t even come to a solid conclusion before a strange tower of dishes entered the room, followed by the strange cat-man from earlier. She could only smile, unsure of whether ‘wait’ meant ‘in this bed’ or ‘in this room.’ Regardless, there was a kitty in her lap, and he had quite happily taken it upon himself to make bread there. Only, sadly, the kind of bread that kitties made were inedible-- just adorable.
“T-thank you.” She was embarrassed now. It wasn’t like it was every day that some nice older guy helped her out. He hadn’t looked at her funny, or criticized her, and unlike the boys at school, he hadn’t teased her about anything yet. It was a nice change. He was completely different from the boys at school and Mr. Miller. It was almost like he might have actually been a girl.
The embarrassment prodded at her; she had to do something. There was no way she could just lay there while he tried to balance all that.
“Let me help you.” Tiny light feet peeked out from the side of the bed, followed by thin legs covered in bruises and scrapes. She was sitting at the edge of the bed now, arms reaching for his pile---
If only he was juts a little bit closer, she might have grabbed the cup of water!
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Apr 08, 2009 12:53 am
She was so tiny. Just like a kitten. It was adorable.
He grinned, shaking his head and setting the bowls on the nightstand, shooing her sternly back under the covers.
"Do not strain yourself," he said, quite firmly. "I do not v'ant you getting sick under my care." And she most definitely was under his care - his very own stray that he'd brought home. He wasn't about to have her pushing herself. Girls were fragile.
He tucked a few more pillows behind her, so that she could lean back and eat more comfortably, offering up the bowl of tomato soup for the taking. As for the kitten, he set the little guy on the night stand as well to eat and drink to its heart's content, turning his attention back to the girl.
"Tepin, v'as ee't?" he re-affirmed, settling down back in his chair. Now that he got a good look at her, he had to wonder - she was an odd looking child, but still cute. But she definitely needed a bath; there was some dust or dirt that had settled on her face.
"V'hy v'ere you out on the streets?" In Downers it wasn't that unexpected, but Middling? The frown on his face said it all: girlchildren were not meant to be out on the streets on their own. She should've been safe at home, tucked in and asleep. Not frozen half to death.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Apr 08, 2009 1:28 am
Gingerly her feet disappeared right back into the covers, though her face could be described as nothing but a stern pout. She wanted to help!
“I’m not sick!” She protested, though her fingers clutched at the top of her blankets. Secretly, it felt kinda nice to be doted on. But if she thought that, she would be selfish! Though, truthfully, the girl was glad that no one was able to read her thoughts. She’d die of embarrassment if he knew how ridiculously happy she was that instant. Even the soup, while tomatoes disgusted her, seemed to taste good in light of the situation-- somehow it tasted creamier than she had ever had. Maybe he had put something else in it.
When the conversation took a dark turn for the worst, that happiness quickly evaporated. Why did he have to move to the one subject that she herself have been trying to avoid to the best of her powers? Should she lie? Could she do that? He had treated her so nicely after all.
But if she told him the truth-- he’d call her silly. He’d make her go back-- she just knew it.
But she owed him. She really did. It had been a long time since she had eaten with someone else-- let alone had a full conversation with them.
“My mom… And Mr. Miller…” Regardless of whether he know whom Mr. Miller might be, she continued, “They were fighting… and yelling. And they were talking about me.”
Her feet visibly scrunched and unscrunched under the blankets, she was feeling quite uncomfortable.
“And they…” Tepin’s eyes were starting to get misty. She didn’t want to say it aloud-- that just seemed like it would be admitting that they had said it. Then she couldn’t just pretend it hadn’t happened. “They said things… They said that word. The “r” word.”
Looking up from her soup, she felt so very small and vulnerable. She hoped that maybe, hopefully, he’d understand the depth of her feeling.
“You know…” The word came out in a hissed whisper, as if she were cursing, “retard. And they kept saying it!!”
The tears had begun to roll slowly down her cheeks, though her eyes were glued to her soup-- she didn’t want him, of all people, to think she was a baby.
“But I’m not! They told me I wasn’t! They said I was normal… They said that the other kids were wrong, and I was just the same as them. They lied!”
Choking back a sob-- a realization had come to her. Her parents had not lied in that they would not use that word. They lied when they had told her she was normal.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Apr 08, 2009 12:12 pm
"Hey, hey," he shushed, frowning more at her tears and carefully wiping them away, "Don't cry. Cute girls should not cry, da?" He gave her an encouraging smile - girls should never have a reason to cry.
Valeriu knew too well how important parents were in a child's life. Really, he should be taking her right home, he told himself. She was obviously a runaway. She belonged with her parents.
But something in those tears tugged at him. What parents could say such things to such a girl? A fierce protectiveness rose - if Sydni was in the same situation, would he return her to such people? He couldn't stand the thought of such a sweet girl crying for the rest of her life.
Maybe it was a misunderstanding. Parents and kids misunderstood each other all the time. So really, he should--
He sighed. She didn't have anywhere else to go. She might end up back on the streets if he did return her.
But, it'd only be for a few days, until she cooled down. Then he could return her to her parents, and the misunderstanding would be solved, and she'd be safe and not getting mugged out on the streets.
This was the very reason he never brought strays home. He wanted to keep and care for them himself.
Wryly, he wrapped an arm around the girl in a hug, ruffling her hair reassuringly. It was too natural to do - just like with hugging Sydni.
"Look, I don't v'ant you out on the streets again. Ee't ee's too dangerous for a runaway. So, I v'ill make a deal v'ith you." He held up a finger, a serious look upon his face.
"You can stay here until you are ready to go home, ee'f," he stressed, "ee'f you can give me a smile. Deal?"
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Apr 08, 2009 4:05 pm
Why was he being so nice? Why? She had simply barged into his life all of the sudden like this… A normal person, she hiccupped, would have demanded to know her address or take her to the police by now. But then again, the man had kitty ears. There was no way that he was normal. Regardless, it didn’t make any sense!
The little Alice shook her curls, the back of her hands wiping across her face. She knew she was crying, she knew her nose was running, and she knew she must look horrible. He probably thought of her as nothing but a little girl! That thought pained her even more-- everyone thought so lowly of her. Whether it was retarded, or stupid, or a baby-- no one could hold a good opinion of her. Was she really so useless?
But she looked up at him once more-- regardless of his opinion, he had made her a deal. And people upheld their deals, unlike promises. So, drudging from the pit of her stomach the most of her determination, though the tears still streamed down her face, she did it.
She had smiled.
If it could be called that. Sure, her teeth were showing, and her lips seemed somewhat upturned. Though her nose was running and tears leaked down her face. Technically, it could be a smile-- but only technically. It had none of the magic of a real smile.
Because inside, she still felt horrible.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Apr 08, 2009 5:01 pm
Grinning more softly, he ruffled her hair, grabbing some tissues and cleaning up her face a bit.
"Beautiful already. But," he ruefully tapped her nose, "I bet you have some prettier ones hiding ee'n there. I v'ant to v'ait for one of those. So show me v'hen you are ready, da?"
He would place a bet that her real smile could light up the day. Those smiles - he loved those. From his Sydni, from his lady-coworkers - it was inspiring to see. It was one thing he and his father had in common; they would both go to great lengths to see a girl smile.
"Now, ee't ee's getting late," he reminded her. Very late. He, for one, was hoping to just throw himself into bed and die there after such a long day. Picking the empty bowl back up and leaving the glass of water, he stood. "You should get some rest."
"Ee'f you need anything at all, I v'ill be ee'n the room across the hall, and the restroom ee's the door closest to the stairs."
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Apr 08, 2009 6:25 pm
She frowned sulkily, her bottom lip jutting out in a pout. She knew she looked bad, and could not fathom how this boy could possibly lie to her like that. What good did it to do lie when the other party knew that you were lying? That was just silly.
She was used to people being mean when she did not deserve it-- she was not used to people being nice when she did not deserve it.
Still, she was warm, both she her kitten was well fed, and life seemed at least tolerable. And she could finally sleep. Sleep sounded so very nice. To just be able to shut out all her thoughts for the day and relax-- it sounded as good as heaven.
And so, a tiny nod later, she watched his retreating form and tried to close her eyes.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|