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 Posted: Wed Jul 29, 2009 10:11 pm
Today was a scorcher. Not too unusual for a city that sits right next to the desert, and not too unusual for a city situated in a post-nuclear-war time period. Writ wasn't phased at all by the oppressive heat. Partly through the rough living, partly the fact that he was part-desert animal. The heat wasn't the problem he had.
It was the slowly healing bullet wound in his arm. It still stung, it still was a mess, and also? Internal bleeding was a b***h! He just wished that Great Spirit guy gave him a healing power that went faster than a day. The knife in the shoulder? Not that deep, not that bad, that healed quickly. But Writ would still have to make a point of not getting shot at; because regenerative powers or not, bullets hurt.
He couldn't go to the hospital, and he couldn't show his face on the streets to get some more herbs, so he did the only logical thing he could do- get to the nearest ice cream parlor, and drown the numbing pain with a couple of scoops of forbidden chocolate.
Writ was just lapping it up with a spoon, settled in the booth of the closest Ice cream Parlor. His white t-shirt was stained with blood, but he got by the stares by saying that he worked as a surgeon in the hospital.
He missed his poncho.
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Posted: Thu Jul 30, 2009 6:07 pm
It was such a hot day! Taking that into account, wearing the mostly-black "Stop Wars" shirt that Quinn had given him was probably not the smartest of plans. Neither was wrapping Writ's poncho around his face either (though at least it gave his face some shade). At least he'd managed to find some denim cut-offs that weren't short enough to qualify as Daisy Duke's. Still, despite the heat, Faylen found he wasn't all that bothered. Maybe it was being influenced by a serpent goddess- snakes did enjoy a good bask in the heat- or maybe it was because there were other thing on the young godling's mind.
Though he'd managed to sleep through the rest of last night with minor incident, once he woke up and remembered what he saw... well, his morning became an uncomfortable cacophony of unpleasant thoughts and feelings. He had to get out of the house, in the end, as if staying there would somehow turn him toward a life of..."wrestling" with other men, half-naked on the living room couch. He knew Quinn wanted to talk but...he just had to go.
His first stop had been the library. He didn't feel like staying there (too public; he was still paranoid about the blockade thing), so he had checked his books out and scooted away quickly. He was heading down the street, makeshift hood up to keep incognito (never mind that wearing nearly the same stuff he had the day they're rushed the blockade probably didn't actually help any). He supposed he ought to find a comfy, secluded place to read up- he'd taken out books on Voodoo in an attempt to learn more about his goddess and her pantheon. He;d also checked out a book on big snakes too- they had a chapter on pythons and another on snakes in mythology. He just hoped the books weren't too hard to read. True that he could read English better than he could speak it, but he was still a middle-school drop-out and thus his knowledge was limited for now.
He ambled down the street, books under his arm. He paused in front of an ice cream parlor. Oh...ice cream would be so nice today! It was so hot and he could use cheering up after how the last few days had gone...
He might even have enough money to buy something. Now that he didn't have to spend what change he found around on laundering clothes or buying snackie bits to fend off starvation, he found he was left with a lot more metal in his pockets. Originally, he kept collecting in case he had to leave some day- it was good to have a stash. But he supposed he could spare a little for some ice cream...even if all he ould afford was one scoop of vanilla.
He pushed the door open and stepped inside. Oh, the air conditioning felt so nice! He approached the counter, sliding the hood down as he stood in line. Unfortunately, the motion made the makeshift hoodie fell apart and dropped to the floor, leaving Fay to sigh heavily and scoop the garment back up.
Once he got up to the counter, he rifled throuhg his jeans pocket and dumped out a handful of change. "I am not sure how much I haf off zhe top of my head but I vill take vhatever I can get vith it..." he said.
The man was staring at him. Faylen shifted a bit and shrunk back some. Did he not have enough? Oh, it was rude to have not counted his change first... In truth, the man was looking more at the healing bruises on the boy's face.
"How'd ya get those bruises...?"
Fay looked at his feet and shifted a bit. "Bullies." he said, leaving it at that. Let the man guess the reason- whether due to looking like a Scene kid or his funny accent.
The man nodded acceptingly and produce a small cup of ice cream. "Here, it's on the house." he said, leaning in to whisper. Fay's eyes widened and he scraped his change into his hands, pocketing it again. He gathered up the cup and smiled at the man. "Danke, mister!"
He turned around, trying to juggle his books, the poncho and the ice cream, looking for a place to sit. It was pretty full, so he didn't see Writ right off...but he did feel that weird prickly feeling he got when he was near a godling. He stiffened up a little, eyes scanning the crowd more thoroughly.
Was that...
Oh, Mr. Writ! He shuffled over towards the other godling, trying not to drop anything. He was easy to miss at first without that poncho on! He stood by the table, smiling a little.
"Guten tag, Mr. Vrit." he greeted with a polite bob of his head.
The boy looked a little...off (not unhappy but just somehow off) but otherwise okay. The bruises were healing bit by bit every day, though it seemed he'd acquired some nasty scrapes on his knees and even his palms looked a bit roughed-up. Still, it was clear he was in at least a bit better shape this time around. Less hungry. Perhaps a touch more...haunted, but overall healthier.
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Posted: Thu Jul 30, 2009 11:24 pm
Writ looked up from his puddle of chocolate and looked at Faylen with a familiar shirt.
"Guess you found Quinn's house, huh?" Writ grinned, "I forgot that he had actual clothes. And actual shorts for that matter." He raised his arm-- and hissed in pain, he managed a wave over to the booth seat across from him, "Take a seat."
There was something off about Faylen, Writ just couldn't put his finger on it. He was a bit more pale than usual. Not Seth pale, but pale enough to notice something was going on through the kid's head. Writ didn't ask, not yet anyway. Right now, he was glad to see that he made it out of that earlier fiasco alive. It made his bullet wound feel better. He shrugged, keeping his injury close to the wall of the booth. No need to worry the kid anymore then he seemed to be.
"I see you've been holding on to my poncho." Writ said, "Mind if I got it back?" He held out a hand.
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Posted: Fri Jul 31, 2009 11:32 am
At the offer, the boy juggled his stuff, setting the books down first, followed by the ice cream and then the poncho. He slipped into the seat and looked at the other man, giving a nod of confirmation.
"Ja, I fell off a fire escape and Mr. Quinn found me and took me to his place he said I could stay at his place as long as I vanted to. He gave me some extra clothes to vear too." he intoned. "Did you know Mr. Vale lives right across zhe road?" he asked, starting to dig into his ice cream.
Fay was happy he ran into someone he knew- someone supposedly normal (well, as normal as player could be, anyways) and nice like Mr. Writ. The ice cream helped him feel better too. He just needed some time away, some time to process and firmly bury things.
He looked up again, nodding and lifting the poncho up and over the table to give to the man. It was a little dusty, though, from where Fay had dropped it moments ago. It appeared that the garment had been washed, dry and folded neatly as of late all the same. "I haf been vearing it lately- I vas hoping I vould run into you again vhen I had it on." he smiled.
He eyed him as he took another bite of his ice cream. Haf you been holding up vell since our last meeting?" he asked politely.
He had wanted to ask what was up with Writ's arm- the man had seemed to flinch earlier when he'd gestured- but he didn't want to be as forward as to ask directly. Plus, he could have just had a muscle cramp or something. Faylen couldn't taste the air (despite being influenced by a snake-lady) and he didn't have a keen nose, so he couldn't sense or tell for sure that the other godling was injured. He wasn't too terribly observant or curious right now anyways...too much on his mind.
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Posted: Sun Aug 02, 2009 8:12 am
"Huh, didn't know that till now, why do you ask?" Writ spooned some ice cream soup and slurped it up, "You see Vale too or something?"
He pushed his demolished ice cream bowl and leaned back into the booth, taking care not to aggravate his injury any more than necessary. Writ took his poncho with his good arm plopped it on the table, "Thanks."
When Faylen mentioned their last meeting, Writ leaned back and sighed, "Lets just say that I would've rather fell off a fire escape then what I had to go through." He sounded like he was joking, he didn't want to make a big deal of it. Writ had a hunch that Faylen had more worries than a few bruises and scrapes.
"But I'll be alright. Just a little bit roughed up is all." Writ tilted his head at Faylen and gave him a inquisitive look, "Something bothering you kid? Looks like it."
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Posted: Sun Aug 02, 2009 5:47 pm
He swallowed a little, quickly casting his eyes back to his ice cream. Oh, he'd seen Mr. Vale. Granted, he hadn't seen as much of him as he had Mr. Quinn... A small blush rose into his face at the though. Ah, why was that even going through his head? He shook his head a little to clear the thoughts and feelings. It'd be fine, no use focusing on it- Ayida had said it hadn't even been that terrible, what he saw.
It wasn't, child. Had you waited longer than perhaps you'd have seen something to be anguished by. What you saw was a natural reaction of the human condition--
Shut up and let me eat my ice cream, he groused back. Normally, he was much more pleasent to his goddess but today he was hot, tired, and bothered. The vodou goddess clucked her tongue and her presence faded once more.
He looked back up, pushing a smile across his face. "Ja, he came over to visit Mr. Quinn. He has an accent too and he makes really good varmed milk drink...I like him." he said, taking another bite of ice cream.
He glanced at the man, furrowing his brows in concern despite the godling's nonchalant tone. "Do you hurt? I...I know some first aid. Zhere may be some stuff at Mr. Quinn's house if you are hurt..." he offered. Granted, his first aid knowledge only really consisted of cleaning and bandaging wounds.
He looked away again when the other man asked if anything was up. He glanced out the window to try and make his aversion seem less obvious. "Oh, um...no. Nothing really..."
He was tempted, for a moment, to aks Mr. Writ about what he saw. He was a big kid and he seemed smart... but the boy wasn't honestly sure where to start and he didn't want to bother him but..
Well...
"Um, Mr. Writ. Vhen...vhen you like someone...ah, you kiss zhem, right?" He wasn't totally ignorant. He knew that mothers kissed their sons (sometimes) and sisters kissed their little brothers (more often) to show they cared and loved them. Little girls chased after little boy and kissed them on the playground not just to be annoying- as he thought- but to show them they liked them (as sister had told him). "B-but...um, vell...vhy vould you need to take your clothes off to do zhat?" he blurted before staring back down to his melting ice cream, his face reddening deeply.
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Posted: Sun Aug 02, 2009 6:52 pm
"Ah, it's just a small scratch, it's nothin', really."
Writ suspected something when Faylen blushed. His fears were only confirmed when the boy mentioned kissing, which then intensified when he mentioned the lack of clothes. Quinn didn't have many clothes to start with. "Taking off your clothes" was pretty much a synonym for "Get naked" to the ever-shirtless, rainbow-brite Quinn. And the kissing? Getting a kiss from Quinn was like getting a handshake from a normal person.
And Writ knew from experience what a kiss from Quinn would lead to...
You sick b*****d, he's just a kid! A growl emanated from the back of his throat.
Despite the thoughts swirling through his mind, Writ had to play the all-knowing adult. He was calm, he didn't do the classic raised eyebrow he adopted for situations like these, most importantly, he resisted the urge to run out of the ice cream place (dragging Faylen along, of course) and burst into Quinn's house demanding an explanation of what happened last night. Which Writ then realized, that he had been speculating all this time, he didn't know exactly what happened to Faylen.
Again, his mind was in the gutter.
Writ took a deep breath, "Well Faylen, why do you want to know? Did something..." his tongue was held on the -"ing" until he figured out the right word, "...odd happen at Quinn's house?"
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Posted: Sun Aug 02, 2009 7:30 pm
The boy eyed him suspiciously when the older man said it was nothing. Well, if it was just a scratch... "Okay, if you say so." he nodded acceptingly.
He shrunk back in his seat when the other man growled a little. Ah, was that the wrong question to ask? Maybe he shouldn't have said anything anyways. It was supposed to be 'special time', right? Special was almost as good as a secret and...oh, why did he have to run his mouth? Why did he have to go downstairs last night? He was always in the way! Always causing trouble!
He looked uneasily at the other man. "It vas nothing...I vas hafing a nightmare and I vent downstairs for some milk and I didn't know Mr. Vale vas over..." he said, wriggling a little. "Um, he and Mr. Quinn were ah...vell, zhey vere doing zhings-" he stressed vaguely, "a-and Mr. Quinn didn't have any clothes on and I do not see vhy you need to have your clothes off to kiss and Mr. Vale said zhey vere vrestling but...but...I know zhey vere not..." He had no idea where he was going with this, only that thinking about it was making him terribly uncomfortable. He sighed shakily and took another few bites of ice cream, trying to bury the discomfort under soft serve.
He shouldn't have said anything. Or, if he had to say something, he could have said something more useful. Not this. He'd left the house early to avoid talking about this. But there was a part of him that was curious and confused, a part that demanded to be satisfied with information...ah, curse his curious little mind!
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Posted: Sun Aug 02, 2009 8:25 pm
Oh. Ohhhhhh. Oh.
Inside, Writ breathed a sigh of relief. Okay, at least Faylen wasn't traumatized that way. That would've been more of a disaster to try to explain then what actually happened. A small shame, Writ thought to himself, he had thought up a pretty good lie to clean up after Quinn's mess. Now he had to start from scratch.
It was alright that Quinn and Vale got back together again, but did they have to celebrate right in front of a little kid? Seriously, Writ expected those two to have at least a little self-control. Vale anyway. No, Vale especially. He was rather disappointed at the couple. Not because of what they did, but because it would be up to him to explain to Faylen what happened. Their lie was shoddy enough for a little kid to see through, so it was up to him to cover for them.
"It's okay, Faylen, calm down." Writ said, trying to play the father figure here, "It's normal for that kind of stuff to happen, grown ups do it all the time." Writ took another deep breath, "You know, when two grown ups love each other a lot, they make this bond of trust, and sometimes, to express that trust, they..." He looked up and snapped his fingers, trying to find the right words, then failing miserably, "Take off their clothes, and kiss and stuff, and they show one another they trust each other a whole lot. It's weird, but all of that just meant that Quinn and Vale really love each other." And with that, Writ put sprinkles on top on his sugar-coated explanation.
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Posted: Sun Aug 02, 2009 9:23 pm
He stared at his now-empty cup as the other man spoke. He was breathing a little quicker than normal. Writ's explanation...it had been pretty much what he had been told all along. Ayida had told him that when two people cared- or respected one anothers' bodies enough- they oft expressed their feelings in such a manner. Quinn had said it was perfectly normal for couples to want 'special time'. But still...still...
Mother would not approve. And Faylen, despite being on his own, still lived very much in her shadow, in fear of her.
He swallowed. "And stuff?" he pushed, still curious.
Whenever he asked Mother about anything related to this subject, she'd scowl and tell him it was nothing Good Little Boys needed to know about. It was dirty, dirty, dirty! He would have been happy accepting this and not bothering with this information until much later in his life but after what he saw...he had questions. He could have asked Mr. Quinn but...that would have just been even more awkward than this was.
"D-do you haf to do zhat if you like someone?" It looked uncomfortable what they were doing, let alone what they were going to do. He wasn't quite sure he had any interest in that sort of thing but...but he did want someone to like him some day! "And is it zhe same if you like a girl instead of a boy?" he asked, scratching at the back of hand, paying extra attention to picking at his cuticles. Oh, this topic made him so uneasy!
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Posted: Mon Aug 03, 2009 6:03 am
"And stuff." Writ said, as if that explained everything. How old was Faylen anyway? Maybe he could just get away with saying what that "Stuff" was. From the confused look on the kid's face, it looked like he would need that talk sooner than later. Hopefully his god/goddess/god-thing would iron those questions out by the time he starting growing, because as much as a father figure Writ seemed, he was definitely not qualified to give "The talk"
"You don't have to per say, I mean, some people wait till they're married, and some of them don't do it at all, it's all up to them." Writ shrugged, which hurt, "And yeah, it can go either way really, a guy and a girl, a girl and a girl, a guy and a guy..." He shivered at the last pairing, "Faylen, how old are you exactly?"
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Posted: Mon Aug 03, 2009 6:35 pm
He frowned. He wanted to know what 'stuff' was. But oh, it seemed that Mr. Writ didn't want to tell him either. It was probably for the best that he didn't know anyways. Like that story he had read once about a box...ah, Pandora's Box. He had a feeling that hearing the full details would be something like that anyways.
It didn't stop him from being curious, though.
He nodded slowly. Oh good, at least he didn't have to do that. He wasn't very fond of such things, rolling around all sweaty and making such awkward noises... "Das gut. I...do vant to be liked but I do not even like kissing people who are not family. Girls," he said, leaning back, are gross. Zhey get spit and lip-color all over you vhen zhey kiss."
He seemed to cringe a bit at the notion of a guy and a guy too, though he undoubtedly had a different reason than Writ. "So...you do zhe same zhing no matter who you are vith? I suppose it makes sense." he said. Even if it did seem weird.
At the question about his age, he canted his head a bit. "Eleven, but I vill be tvelve soon enough." he answered. "Vhy?"
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Posted: Wed Aug 05, 2009 6:52 pm
Huh. Tough to say. Writ rolled his eyes in thought, "Huh." He said out loud. This wasn't his problem, and if it were, well, Faylen would've been in for a treat of the mental scarring kind. Writ was blessed with a little too much information by Coyote.
"You're old enough to know what that 'stuff' is, you know. I just don't want to mess it up for you." Writ lied, he could at least get a little entertainment out of this, "I think Vale would probably do a better job of explaining it all to you. I mean, I know you know he knows something about this 'stuff'. Seeing it firsthand and all." He smiled.
Messing with Vale will never get old.
"Oh, you'll see why us grown ups do it eventually." Writ sighed at the subject of kissing, there was a glint of nostalgia in his eyes, "It really ain't that bad."
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Posted: Wed Aug 05, 2009 8:30 pm
Faylen began fidgeting with his spoon again. Old enough to know? Did that mean...he should know by now? Oh, now he felt vaguely stupid he didn't know anything. Though honestly, asking Mr. Vale would be as awkward as asking Mr. Quinn (maybe more since he didn't know the cat-eared man as well as he knew Mr. Quinn) but...well, at least he didn't have to live with Mr. Vale. That sort of balanced things out. Maybe he would trouble the older godling next time he saw him. If he was old enough to know...well, why not at least try and ask someone he trusted?
He better give a better explanation than his 'wrestling' attempt, though.
"I vill keep zhat in mind. Mr. Vale seems smart enough and, ah, experienced..." he mused.
He tilted his head a bit when Writ gave him the infamous 'you'll understand when you're older' speech (or something close to it, anyways). "Maybe..." he conceded. After all, who knew what the future held? "But I still think it looks sveaty and uncomfortable."
He was quiet for a little longer before carefully proposing another question, feeling suddenly eager to get away from this subject. "Mr. Vrit...vhat do you know about sneaking into places?"
It had been an idea he'd been rolling around for a little bit- to sneak back home to collect some of his clothes and items. He could always hope Mother still left the key where he remembered but if not...well, it never hurt to have a backup plan, right? And he couldn't just break a window or something (Mother would be so angry if he did!)...he needed a plan.
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Posted: Wed Aug 05, 2009 9:44 pm
Writ stood up at the mention of breaking and entering. There was hope for the timid child yet. He sensed a rebellious streak coming on. Ah, how they grow up so fast! First they're haphazardly saying words like "Stiffy" and now they want help to break in somewhere.
"Well, I know a whole bunch about breaking into places." That was a lie. Writ had never needed to break into places, and if he did, he'd probably slip through a window as a coyote. Still, he was a firm supporter of bad behavior. He slid out of the booth and hastily put on his poncho.
"Lead the way, if you need to get somewhere, I'll be the one to get you there." Writ smiled, there was mischief to be made.
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