Chapter two: New discoveries
It took about two days before Kenji was so bored that he didn’t know what to do with himself. For the past ten years, all of his energy had gone into working and raising Jun, who had been only five years old when their parents died – the age gap between the brothers was so large that at times, Jun was taken for Kenij’s son. Jun had just turned fifteen now, while Arai was twenty-three and supposedly an adult. Kenji with his twenty-seven years felt like he was positively ancient. Like his life had passed him by when he hadn’t been looking.
Arai just shook his head and told Kenji to get out and get himself a life, but the fact was that Kenji wasn’t sure how he was supposed to do that. Usually when he had a bit of time off, he would take Jun to see a movie, or if Jun was at school, he would go see a play by himself, or he would simply read.
The first day home from work he read and listened to music. The second he took a long walk around the neighborhood and read some more. The third he wandered aimlessly around the apartment, unable to focus on the pages of the novel for more than two minutes. He was used to working, not this, and he couldn’t for the life of him understand how Arai managed to live like this, not doing anything at all.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, man, you need to go get laid,” Arai remarked as he came back around noon after having been all night. As usual he had his long hair in what looked like a million tiny braids, and he looked unusually satisfied. Or well, it wasn’t all that unusual, not since Arai had started seeing someone new a few weeks back. Kenji had no idea who she or he or they were, and quite frankly he didn’t want to know either.
“I don’t need to get laid,” he hissed back from where he was sat on the floor, re-arranging his portion of their vast CD collection. Arai’s portion was mostly rock, Jun’s mostly pop, and his own consisted of various classical albums and some movie soundtracks – though several times he had been casting almost longing glances over to Arai’s collection.
“Of course you do. You’ve needed to get laid for years. Why else do you think you’re so uptight? What happened to that cute girl? What was her name, Paige?” Arai came over and hoisted Kenji onto his feet, his eyes glittering with amusement as Kenji merely glared at him in response. That didn’t deter Arai; it never had.
“Arai, have you lost the little part that was left of your brain? She was Sinclair and Nanette’s daughter. She’s Jun’s age, not mine, you moron,” Kenji snapped back, hitting Arai over the head, though his rebel of a brother merely laughed.
“So? Still could have been fun to flirt, couldn’t it? Or have you completely forgotten how to flirt? Or maybe you’ve just become too much of a woman,” Arai teased, earning himself another hit over the head, and Kenji knew that he was probably the only one who was allowed to treat Arai like this. Anyone else would have gotten punched in the face a long time ago – outside of their home, Arai was tough.
“I’m not a woman. If any of us are, it’s you. At least I don’t dress up in skirts and high-heeled boots and whatnot. And I’m not going to flirt with a girl who goes to Jun’s school. And no, I don’t need you to set me up, either. I wouldn’t even want to look at the girls you hang out with,” Kenji said with an air of finality that made even Arai shut up – for all of three seconds.
“Okay, fine, but I’m taking you out to a party. And don’t even think about protesting. You don’t have any say in the matter. Shoo, go make yourself look… Less like a damn businessman. If you’re actually capable of that. You can borrow some of my clothes.”
Kenji nearly sputtered at the idea, both of going to one of Arai’s parties and borrowing his clothes. So he shook his head and sat down in the living room almost demonstratively, though he knew his brother well enough to know that he wouldn’t give up before Kenji had given in. It was the way it had worked all throughout their lives, even as kids when it had been just the two of them, before Jun was born.
And of course, this was no different. An hour later Kenji found himself in a private club filled with people he had never seen and music he had never listened to, and it didn’t take Arai more than two minutes to flutter off in his corset-like top and low-riding leather pants. Typical Arai style, and Kenji sighed, feeling lonely. This hadn’t been his world in so long, he didn’t like it here anymore, and he didn’t know how to act and what to say. Instead of following his younger brother around like an idiot, he found the bar and sat down, getting himself a drink, because hell, he could use it right now.
Arai had dressed him up, and Kenji felt utterly uncomfortable, even though there was nothing wrong with the black, stylish pants and even more stylish shirt he was wearing. It just wasn’t him anymore. And honestly, looking like this had never been his style.
He had no idea how long he had been sitting there, sipping his drink and absentmindedly listening to the heavy rhythm of the music, but suddenly he was almost yanked off his chair by an Arai who looked considerably less calm than he had in years.
“What on earth are you---“
“C’mon, we have to get out of here. Hurry up, for fuck’s sake!”
Kenji didn’t have a chance of protesting as Arai dragged him outside, and just as they turned the corner to a side alley, Kenji turned back to see what looked suspiciously like police officers coming out of the club, though they didn’t see where the young men disappeared off to. On the hectic walk home Kenji was quiet, though once they were back inside their apartment; he grabbed Arai and shoved him up against the wall in the hallway, glaring at him.
“Now it’s about time you tell me what’s going on with you. It’s obvious that you’re in trouble, and you’re not helping either of us by trying to hide it,” he said calmly, but with that big-brother tone that he’d use every now and then, when he was really serious. It worked. Arai looked down, the fight going out of him, and he looked almost saddened, something which worried Kenji more than anything. With a slight sigh he marched Arai into the living room and sat him down on the big, comfortable couch, sitting down next to him, prepared to hear whatever Arai had to say. “So, what have you done wrong this time?”
“That’s just it! I haven’t done anything!” Arai replied, giving Kenji an almost frustrated look. “I know that you probably don’t believe me, but I swear, it’s the truth. I haven’t done any of the shit they’re accusing me for, and even you should know that’s true – I’ve made mistakes in the past, but that’s always what it’s been. Mistakes.”
Kenji frowned slightly, because he knew that yeah, Arai hadn’t exactly been an exemplary kid. He had quit high school in his second year; or rather, he had been kicked out because he stirred up way too much trouble. He had been involved in some minor theft incidents, he had been arrested for disorderly conduct more times than Kenji could count, he had been at every party the police had broken up in the past few years, he had been pulled over for driving while drunk, and so on, and so on. It was rather difficult to believe that this time was different.
“Okay, so what are they accusing you of?” he asked tiredly, expecting to hear something about robberies or cars that had been vandalized or something similar. Something small. Or at least small by their standards.
“They’re saying that I’ the one organizing the drug ring selling shit to kids in high school,” Arai said quietly, and Kenji could do nothing but stare at him for so long that the silence became highly uncomfortable. “Kenji! Niisan, you know I couldn’t do something like that, right? It’d be like… Like I was selling drugs to Jun! I’d never do that, I never put anyone else in danger. And I… I…”
Arai went silent again, drawing up his legs into the couch and leaning his head against his knees, the very picture of someone small, tired and scared. It had been years since Kenji had seen Arai like this, and it automatically made him shift close and wrap his arm around Arai, pulling him into a reassuring half hug.
“Don’t worry. I know that you’re innocent. For once,” Kenji said with a very faint smile, and Arai glanced at him, almost but not quite hopefully. As if he didn’t dare to think that Kenji actually believed in him. “You’re right. The stuff you’ve done, it has always involved just yourself, and you’ve never harmed anyone. Besides, you’re way too dumb to manage to organize something that big,” he finished dryly, finally getting a slight grin from Arai.
It surprised him how much it bothered him to see Arai worried.
“How on earth did you manage to get those kinds of accusations against you? I mean, they have to have a reason for it, right?” He was almost afraid to ask the questions. For years Kenji had deliberately stayed as much out of Arai’s life as he could, seeing as he had no control over it anyway. Arai was over eighteen, he could do whatever he wanted, and quite honestly, Kenji had never understood why Arai insisted on staying here, in their apartment. Most likely it was either because of lack of money or because of Jun, who Arai too loved more than words could express.
“Well… You know my reputation, I guess I’m pretty easy to pick if they needed someone to blame. Besides, I sort of know a few of the people who really do run the drug rings in town,” Arai replied, almost sheepishly, knowing Kenji well enough to expect a strong reaction to that. Which he got.
“You know them?! Are you insane? What on earth are you running around with drug dealers for? You could have put us all in jeopardy; you could have put Jun in danger. With everything that’s going on, don’t you think that it’d be a good idea to stay out of trouble, at least for a few weeks? Is that too much to ask?? ” There was no denying that Kenji was angry, though honestly, he was more scared than anything else. If the police kept going and arrested Arai and got him convicted, what would then happen to him and Jun?
Arai, on the other hand, merely shook his head, trying to calm Kenji down again. “I’ve cut the ties with those guys now, I swear. I’m getting my act together, Kenji, and I have been for the past months, which is why this doesn’t make any sense. I haven’t gotten into trouble at all for a long time. You’d think that the police went after me just because they haven’t seen me in a while. I don’t know… I thought it’d blow over, but they’re insistent, especially this chick that apparently hates me.”
There was a slight pause as the oh, so different brothers both sank back in the couch, thinking about what was going on. Arai seemed worried for about ten seconds before he looked as carefree as ever, but it wasn’t as easy for Kenji. He still considered Arai to be his responsibility, but this was way out of his league. Quite simply, there was nothing he could do; he had to trust Arai’s ability to get out of pretty much everything.
“Try to stay out of trouble and get this fixed, would you?” He noted that his voice was nearly pleading, but hell, he almost felt like begging. To his surprise he found that he couldn’t bear the thought of Arai going to prison, and especially not the Saitama prison. The one everyone called The Cage; where nobody ever saw the light of day again.
“I will,” Arai replied calmly and reached over, ruffling Kenji’s hair as if he was the elder one comforting the young and scared brother. Funny how that worked at times. “I’ve been trying to figure out if there’s anyone who could have framed me, and I’m trying to talk to a few of the cops I know that doesn’t have anything against me. I’m going to figure this out, Kenji, I promise. You don’t have to worry about it. Focus on getting your job back and sorting out the other thing instead.”
Kenji nodded. There wasn’t really any other response he could give, seeing as this wasn’t something he could help Arai with. He only hoped that Arai would be able to fix this, otherwise they were in deep trouble.
Of course he didn’t mention that even if Arai was cleared, he was still a part of the problem. The one, huge problem that overshadowed everything else right now. Compared to that, him being suspended from his job and Arai being hunted by the police felt like a walk in the park. Possibly because those problems involved just him and Arai, and no matter what, they both knew that they’d be okay, they’d come out of it okay.
A few days before Jun returned to boarding school, Kenji had had a visit at the office. By a lady who told him that she was from the social services, and that she had gotten several reports about the state of their home – and about Jun’s life in general. Not one for small talk she had told him right out that they would be closely investigated in the following months, and if she and her colleagues weren’t completely satisfied, Jun would be taken out of his care.
It had taken Kenji hours to comprehend the news, and he still didn’t quite understand it.
To him it just didn’t make sense. The social services had never made any enquiries into their life – not even when he had been seventeen and left in charge of a thirteen-year-old and a five-year-old. Nobody had checked up on them, nobody had said a word back then. So why now? What kind of reports could they possibly have gotten? And from whom?
Kenji glanced over at Arai and knew without having to ask that he was thinking about the same thing. He hadn’t told Jun about the visit, didn’t want to worry him, but he had told Arai every detail, and if possible Arai had taken the news even harder, become even more scared. Kenji knew that at times, it had been Jun and nobody else who had kept Arai from really going bad, and that there was an unbreakable bond between them. If Jun got taken away, Kenji feared what would happen to Arai. That fear was enough for him to reach out and tug Arai closer, making him lie down with his head in Kenji’s lap – like he had done back when their parents had just died and there was nothing else that could comfort him. If Arai found it silly, he didn’t say anything about it and meekly lay down.
“It’ll be okay,” Kenji said quietly, almost whispering. “It has to be okay. I’ll fix things with work, you’ll sort out the police business, and nobody is taking Jun away. It will be alright. It will be.”
He felt that his words lacked conviction.
~tbc~
Friday, February 29, 2008
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Profile: Rei
Name: Rei (though his real name is Raphael Gramont)
Name meaning: Departed soul, ghost
Type: Luts MNF BW Chiwoo
Age: 13 when he died. Has "lived" about thirty years after his death.
Race: Zombie.
Nationality: Regards himself as Japanese, but is actually French.
Sexuality: Asexual, but doesn't mind being close to pretty much anyone.
Eyes: Grey (though they used to be brown).
Hair: Grey/white, short (though it used to be light brown).
Distinguishing features: White skin, everything else in grey tones. Is quite clearly not alive.
Clothing style: Greys, whites and blacks. Almost always wears the same oversized hooded jacket and striped socks and nothing else.
Occupation: None, pretty much just wanders around aimlessly.
Lives in: Mainly The Plains, though he wanders around.
Likes: Haruhiko - who is really his only friend. Plushies, blankets, animals; all things fluffy and cute. The darkness, being taken care of, being loved.
Dislikes: Being alone, being cold, wandering. People who hunt him or make fun of him.
Personality: Solitary, doesn't speak much. Intelligent in his own way even if he never really has an opportunity to show it. Longs to be loved and cuddled.
Relationships: Carries around the skull of Naki, his dead father. Sort of friend/boyfriend of Haruhiko's. Sort of lives with Kai and is dependent on him.
History: Nobody knows what Rei's life was like when he was alive - not even himself. Somehow dying made him lose his memories of his life, and now he's haunted by the wish to get those memories back. He has been searching for himself for years already; he's not really sure just how many years it has been, seeing as he doesn't have the capability to tell time like normal people. He doesn't quite know how old he's supposed to be, doesn't quite know how long he's been "living" the way he has now, doesn't quite know why he's always carrying around the skull of someone he thinks is his father. When he "woke up", the only thing that was there, was the skull and a necklace with the initials R. N. engraved.
Through his “investigation”, Kai has managed to uncover Rei’s past, though he still hasn’t told Rei about the things he found out. He now knows that Rei’s real name was Raphael Gramont, and that up until he was eight, he lived a relatively normal life with his mother and father, in a bookstore located in The Slums. However, when Rei was eight, his mother died.
Monday, February 25, 2008
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Friday, February 22, 2008
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Fiction: The beginning of something different
Dominic still remembered the night he met Vintersorg. He had a feeling that that night would be forever imprinted on his mind, no matter how old and senile he might get. There was just something about that one image, that one conversation, that one kiss, that he knew would stay with him forever, would make him stay forever. It was the night that he realized who he was, what he wanted, and who he belonged to. Who he would love.
Back then, Dominic was new to the town, new to Saitama. Sure, he had studied on Shima for years already, but he hadn't spent all that much time in the city itself. Now, fresh out of school and with a determination to never study another day in his life and to never go back to his family again, he had no idea what he was supposed to do with himself. Three days ago he had turned eighteen, so he was supposedly an adult now, in charge of himself. He could do whatever he wanted to, whenever he wanted, with whoever he wanted. And yet, he felt utterly trapped, more caged than he had ever felt while he had been at school, chained in by strict teachers and countless rules and regulations.
Now, with hardly any money, no place to live and not many possessions at all, Dominic wandered around the dark streets illuminated by neon lights - as far as he knew he was somewhere around where The Slums turned into The Plains, at least if the amounts of clubs and bars were something to count on. It seemed like the entertainment areas had been placed to attract the maximum amounts of customers. None of them would get much out of Dominic though, he had to save all the money he could, otherwise he'd be starving in a few days.
Still without having much of a plan, Dominic wandered into the nearest club, figuring that walking around all night wouldn't help him at all, so he might as well settle down somewhere and think while he had something to drink. More than once over the past few days he had thought and wished that there were someone with him who could tell him what to do, because making his own decisions all the time got tired really fast. All through his life there had always been someone there, ordering him around, telling him what to do, and even though he had always rebelled as much as possible against it, he was starting to miss it now.
There was a band playing, but in the beginning Dominic didn't pay too much attention to them - he had more than enough on his mind already. So he sat at the counter, sipping a cheap and tasteless beer, staring straight ahead of him. That was, until the band stopped playing abruptly and there was a slightly hoarse laughter before someone shouted; "Oy! You at the bar, show some fucking respect and listen to the music!"
Dominic didn't react at first because he couldn't even begin to imagine that he was the one being shouted at, but as the bartender gave him a little nudge, he realized that he was the only one sitting at the bar. He turned around to face the stage, and was greeted with a grin and two thumbs up before the band started playing again. For the rest of the time the band played, Dominic couldn't look away from the bass player, couldn't even begin to tear his eyes away from him.
It wasn't that he was particularly beautiful, because he wasn't. He looked a little too pale, a little too skinny, a little too tall. He looked like he didn't give a shit about what anyone else in the world thought about him. Even though the rest of the band stood out as well, the bass player was stunning - possibly because he had bright, neon pink hair. During his years in school, Dominic had seen a whole mass of things, hell, he had done a whole mass of strange things as well, but he had never been that far out there. The bass player was wearing an equally neon pink off-the-shoulder top with black skulls printed all over it, coupled with skinny black jeans and a pair of platform shoes that the best drag queen in the world would have struggled to wear.
Dominic shook his head, but he still kept staring, kept noticing more details. Like how the bass player's fingernails were painted black, how he had piercings in both ears, and more than one in each ear. How he seemed to have pink eyes as well (though Dominic was fairly sure if was just contacts). How he played the bass like he owned the entire world, like he would do whatever the fuck he wanted and damn anyone who thought he should reign himself in. he looked like he felt like the most famous rock star in the world, and the attitude showed. There was no doubt that Dominic found him fascinating, but he never thought that it'd be more than that - the guy seemed to be far out of Dominic's league. He was a poor student with no money, worn clothes and simple black and too long hair, without any piercings or tattoos or crazy clothes whatsoever. This was a world he was just visiting, not somewhere he belonged.
Or so he believed.
When the band finished their set and walked off stage, Dominic finally managed to turn back to his crappy beer, though his thoughts were still centered on the bass player. He had a feeling that the guy would torment his mind for quiet a while, even if he didn't know a single thing about him. The beer went straight to his head even if it wasn't strong, and he closed his eyes, bringing back the fresh memory of watching the band play.
"You’re not asleep, are you? 'Cause if we played so bad it couldn't even keep you awake, then it's time to switch bands," a slightly familiar voice said beside him, and Dominic opened his eyes to look at the bass player standing next to him. Up close he was even more stunning, and Dominic felt his cheeks flush - cursing himself quietly because he didn't really want to betray his age and be an awkward teenager right now. Not that he had any chance with this guy, but he didn't have to act like such an imbecile.
"I-I was just thinking," he replied, even more angry at himself for actually stuttering, something which he hadn't done in ten years. His annoyance over the way he was presenting himself sent him into a half nervous ramble, one that he didn't seem able to stop again. "You guys were really good, I definitely don't think that you should change bands, I---"
"Yeah, that's great. Lets get out of here, I want to take you home tonight," the guy said, cutting off Dominic's tirade efficiently - especially when he reached out and brushed back a few wayward strands of Dominic's hair. The shock of the statement made it impossible for Dominic to think of anything at all to say, but that didn't seem to be all that much of a problem for the bass player. "I'm Vintersorg, but you can call me Winter, I know it's easier. Now c'mon, get your ass off that barstool."
Dominic had a feeling that he should be protesting, that he should tell Winter to fuck off, but instead he merely nodded and got up, hoisting his bag onto his shoulder. Winter grinned at him and took his hand, tugging him outside, acting as if they had known each other for years. A few people gave them some looks, especially the dark-skinned singer of the band, but none of them said anything - as if they all already knew that it'd be pointless. Dominic had time to look Winter over (deciding once more that he was fucking beautiful in his own way) as they walked through countless streets, heading to some unknown destination. He probably should be afraid, but apart from a lingering sense of uneasiness he felt like he was doing the right thing.
"Don't worry, I’m not going to rape you or torture you. Unless you'd like me to," Vintersorg said with a wicked grin, and he stopped before pushing Dominic against the closest vertical surface (which happened to be a very uncomfortable fence). For a few moments all he did was to look at Dominic with a strange look in his eyes - if Dominic didn't know any better, he'd say that it was affection, but that couldn't be the case. They didn't know each other, after all. Winter raised his hand and trailed a couple of fingers over Dominic's cheek and lips, and Dominic felt himself blush again.
The kiss didn't come as a surprise, the way Winter was leaning over him, almost pressing against him and looking at him like that, made it obvious that he was going to kiss Dominic. It was far from a perfect kiss, with those shoes on Winter was far too tall, and Dominic felt so nervous that he shifted a second before Winter's lips pressed against his own, making their teeth clash together rather painfully. Dominic pulled back and started to apologize, but Vintersorg merely laughed and cupped Dominic's face in his hands before kissing him again, properly this time, keeping the kiss gentle and tender. Almost as if he wanted to comfort Dominic.
Dominic knew that his life had changed, just from that one kiss, and as they started to walk again, there was so many questions running through his mind. Who on earth was Winter, really? How old was he? What did he want? How come he could tell Dominic to come home with him and Dominic complied without protesting? Why did this guy affect him so much? Why was he so willing? Where was Winter really taking him? What was going to happen next? What would he do tomorrow? Did Winter actually like him, or was this just a one-night stand? was this right? Should he really be doing this?
And yet, when Vintersorg turned around and grinned at Dominic like he had all the answers in the world, Dominic knew that he'd follow this man for as long as he possibly could.
~fin~
Back then, Dominic was new to the town, new to Saitama. Sure, he had studied on Shima for years already, but he hadn't spent all that much time in the city itself. Now, fresh out of school and with a determination to never study another day in his life and to never go back to his family again, he had no idea what he was supposed to do with himself. Three days ago he had turned eighteen, so he was supposedly an adult now, in charge of himself. He could do whatever he wanted to, whenever he wanted, with whoever he wanted. And yet, he felt utterly trapped, more caged than he had ever felt while he had been at school, chained in by strict teachers and countless rules and regulations.
Now, with hardly any money, no place to live and not many possessions at all, Dominic wandered around the dark streets illuminated by neon lights - as far as he knew he was somewhere around where The Slums turned into The Plains, at least if the amounts of clubs and bars were something to count on. It seemed like the entertainment areas had been placed to attract the maximum amounts of customers. None of them would get much out of Dominic though, he had to save all the money he could, otherwise he'd be starving in a few days.
Still without having much of a plan, Dominic wandered into the nearest club, figuring that walking around all night wouldn't help him at all, so he might as well settle down somewhere and think while he had something to drink. More than once over the past few days he had thought and wished that there were someone with him who could tell him what to do, because making his own decisions all the time got tired really fast. All through his life there had always been someone there, ordering him around, telling him what to do, and even though he had always rebelled as much as possible against it, he was starting to miss it now.
There was a band playing, but in the beginning Dominic didn't pay too much attention to them - he had more than enough on his mind already. So he sat at the counter, sipping a cheap and tasteless beer, staring straight ahead of him. That was, until the band stopped playing abruptly and there was a slightly hoarse laughter before someone shouted; "Oy! You at the bar, show some fucking respect and listen to the music!"
Dominic didn't react at first because he couldn't even begin to imagine that he was the one being shouted at, but as the bartender gave him a little nudge, he realized that he was the only one sitting at the bar. He turned around to face the stage, and was greeted with a grin and two thumbs up before the band started playing again. For the rest of the time the band played, Dominic couldn't look away from the bass player, couldn't even begin to tear his eyes away from him.
It wasn't that he was particularly beautiful, because he wasn't. He looked a little too pale, a little too skinny, a little too tall. He looked like he didn't give a shit about what anyone else in the world thought about him. Even though the rest of the band stood out as well, the bass player was stunning - possibly because he had bright, neon pink hair. During his years in school, Dominic had seen a whole mass of things, hell, he had done a whole mass of strange things as well, but he had never been that far out there. The bass player was wearing an equally neon pink off-the-shoulder top with black skulls printed all over it, coupled with skinny black jeans and a pair of platform shoes that the best drag queen in the world would have struggled to wear.
Dominic shook his head, but he still kept staring, kept noticing more details. Like how the bass player's fingernails were painted black, how he had piercings in both ears, and more than one in each ear. How he seemed to have pink eyes as well (though Dominic was fairly sure if was just contacts). How he played the bass like he owned the entire world, like he would do whatever the fuck he wanted and damn anyone who thought he should reign himself in. he looked like he felt like the most famous rock star in the world, and the attitude showed. There was no doubt that Dominic found him fascinating, but he never thought that it'd be more than that - the guy seemed to be far out of Dominic's league. He was a poor student with no money, worn clothes and simple black and too long hair, without any piercings or tattoos or crazy clothes whatsoever. This was a world he was just visiting, not somewhere he belonged.
Or so he believed.
When the band finished their set and walked off stage, Dominic finally managed to turn back to his crappy beer, though his thoughts were still centered on the bass player. He had a feeling that the guy would torment his mind for quiet a while, even if he didn't know a single thing about him. The beer went straight to his head even if it wasn't strong, and he closed his eyes, bringing back the fresh memory of watching the band play.
"You’re not asleep, are you? 'Cause if we played so bad it couldn't even keep you awake, then it's time to switch bands," a slightly familiar voice said beside him, and Dominic opened his eyes to look at the bass player standing next to him. Up close he was even more stunning, and Dominic felt his cheeks flush - cursing himself quietly because he didn't really want to betray his age and be an awkward teenager right now. Not that he had any chance with this guy, but he didn't have to act like such an imbecile.
"I-I was just thinking," he replied, even more angry at himself for actually stuttering, something which he hadn't done in ten years. His annoyance over the way he was presenting himself sent him into a half nervous ramble, one that he didn't seem able to stop again. "You guys were really good, I definitely don't think that you should change bands, I---"
"Yeah, that's great. Lets get out of here, I want to take you home tonight," the guy said, cutting off Dominic's tirade efficiently - especially when he reached out and brushed back a few wayward strands of Dominic's hair. The shock of the statement made it impossible for Dominic to think of anything at all to say, but that didn't seem to be all that much of a problem for the bass player. "I'm Vintersorg, but you can call me Winter, I know it's easier. Now c'mon, get your ass off that barstool."
Dominic had a feeling that he should be protesting, that he should tell Winter to fuck off, but instead he merely nodded and got up, hoisting his bag onto his shoulder. Winter grinned at him and took his hand, tugging him outside, acting as if they had known each other for years. A few people gave them some looks, especially the dark-skinned singer of the band, but none of them said anything - as if they all already knew that it'd be pointless. Dominic had time to look Winter over (deciding once more that he was fucking beautiful in his own way) as they walked through countless streets, heading to some unknown destination. He probably should be afraid, but apart from a lingering sense of uneasiness he felt like he was doing the right thing.
"Don't worry, I’m not going to rape you or torture you. Unless you'd like me to," Vintersorg said with a wicked grin, and he stopped before pushing Dominic against the closest vertical surface (which happened to be a very uncomfortable fence). For a few moments all he did was to look at Dominic with a strange look in his eyes - if Dominic didn't know any better, he'd say that it was affection, but that couldn't be the case. They didn't know each other, after all. Winter raised his hand and trailed a couple of fingers over Dominic's cheek and lips, and Dominic felt himself blush again.
The kiss didn't come as a surprise, the way Winter was leaning over him, almost pressing against him and looking at him like that, made it obvious that he was going to kiss Dominic. It was far from a perfect kiss, with those shoes on Winter was far too tall, and Dominic felt so nervous that he shifted a second before Winter's lips pressed against his own, making their teeth clash together rather painfully. Dominic pulled back and started to apologize, but Vintersorg merely laughed and cupped Dominic's face in his hands before kissing him again, properly this time, keeping the kiss gentle and tender. Almost as if he wanted to comfort Dominic.
Dominic knew that his life had changed, just from that one kiss, and as they started to walk again, there was so many questions running through his mind. Who on earth was Winter, really? How old was he? What did he want? How come he could tell Dominic to come home with him and Dominic complied without protesting? Why did this guy affect him so much? Why was he so willing? Where was Winter really taking him? What was going to happen next? What would he do tomorrow? Did Winter actually like him, or was this just a one-night stand? was this right? Should he really be doing this?
And yet, when Vintersorg turned around and grinned at Dominic like he had all the answers in the world, Dominic knew that he'd follow this man for as long as he possibly could.
~fin~
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Monday, February 18, 2008
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Profile: Naki
Name: Naki (though his real name is/was -- Gramont)
Name meaning: The deceased
Type: Luts NaNuRi head
Age: 39 when he died.
Race: Skull?
Nationality: Japanese.
Sexuality: Was straight when he was alive.
Eyes: White.
Hair: None.
Distinguishing features: Grey skin, sort of tattoo under his eye.
Clothing style: None.
Occupation: None.
Lives in: Wherever Rei is.
Likes: --
Dislikes: --
Personality: --
Relationships: Rei's father.
History: Pretty much nothing is currently known about Naki, not even his name - Naki is merely something Rei calls him because he had to have something to call the skull of his father.
Saturday, February 16, 2008
Friday, February 15, 2008
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Fiction: Yellow Flowers and a Bag of Bones
Chapter two: The fundamental things
I had to admit it; I was confused. Granted, I was a newcomer, but I was fairly sure that it wasn’t normal for people to just disappear like that. Unsure of what to do, I looked around, and then picked up the flowers. They looked crumpled, as if they had narrowly escaped being crushed altogether. It made Dakota’s fate even more mysterious – was this some sort of test for newcomers, one I hadn’t read about? Or was there really something going on?
One thing was certain; I shouldn’t stay here any longer. I’d rather not disappear as well, after all.
I got to my feet and put the flowers carefully in my coat pocket and then approached the gate of what was to be my home city, Ixero. The guard gave me a look of admonishment, as if I was supposed to have gone straight in before, but at least he pushed the gate open. I wanted to ask him about Dakota, if he had seen what happened, but he merely pushed me inside and shut the gate behind me before I had a chance to even think about what to say.
From what I could see, the city looked like any other city. There were buildings of various sizes and colors, there were shops and restaurants, there were people in the streets. The only thing that stood out right from the start was that there was no cars in the streets, something which made the air seem almost too clear. A few people glanced in my direction as I entered, but nobody talked to me. Quite frankly, I was relieved. I wanted to get to know the place before I started chatting to anyone.
But before checking the city out, I looked at the map conveniently placed right next to the gate, and walked through the streets until I found the Town Hall. The building looked old, older than any of the others I had seen so far – it made me wonder if the Town Hall had been built before everything else, or if they had made it look old on purpose.
There was no line, and I walked up to the clerk sitting behind her desk, clearing my throat to get her attention. She looked as old as the building itself, with grey hair, thick glasses and a mass of wrinkles. I didn’t know why, but I didn’t like her.
“You’re late,” was the first thing she said, and then she handed me a form. “Fill this out, it’s your registration form. Don’t lie, don’t embellish, don’t ask stupid questions.”
I had the feeling that she had said the exact same thing a thousand times over, and merely nodded as I took the form and sat down at a table to fill it out. Name, birth date, occupation, education; all the things I had already filled out on my application form. I took my time, wrote down all the information as I had written them down before, word for word.
The clerk looked if possible even more annoyed when I handed the form in again. “Slow, aren’t you? Well, you’re not the first.” She skimmed over my answers, then nodded and handed me a folder, a key, and a name tag.
“This is all the information you need. Read it carefully. Your apartment is on the fifth street, the yellow house. Third floor. Use your name tag only when you get yourself a job, if you wear it everywhere you’ll just look like the newcomer you are.” She looked me over with disdain, probably wondering why they had let someone like me in. But she was merely the registration clerk, she couldn’t protest.
“You may leave,” she huffed, and then went back to her work.
I left.
Technically, the next thing I should do was to head to the Library to read the rules and regulations, but well, I had never been one for following the rules and regulations, so instead I wandered through Ixero to find my apartment. I didn’t have high hopes for it – I was a newcomer, after all, there was no reason so give me a luxurious place right off the bat.
I was right, too. The apartment I found was almost completely bare; it had a table and a chair, and a narrow bed, but at least it looked clean and whole, and the windows were big, letting in a lot of light. The walls were painted a delicate shade of blue-grey, and I had to admit that I liked it. I didn’t have many plans for upgrading the place, but a bit more furniture could be nice. Maybe some posters, maybe a wardrobe. I’d look less like a newcomer if I didn’t have such a basic apartment, and if I didn’t wear the same clothes all the time, like I was used to doing.
All in all, I was pretty satisfied so far. Satisfied, but confused. I still had no idea what had happened to Dakota, and there was nobody I could ask, either. It wasn’t as if the clerk had invited questions. With a small sigh I fished the remnants of the flowers up from my coat pocket and laid them carefully on the table, before I sat down to read the information I had been given.
1. Respect The Four Sisters. Disrespect, slander, bad-mouthing, etc. will not be tolerated.
2. Do not bother The Four Sisters with inane questions. They are not oracles; they will not answer your questions or offer you help unless there is a proper reason for it. Even if you have a valid question, they might not help. The Four Sisters do what they want, not what you want.
3. Respect your Town Elders, the Librarians, the Clerks, and the Rabbits. They are what makes this community run smoothly.
4. Participate in the community. Being non-communicative will be frowned upon, even if it’s technically not against the rules. If you spend enough time not participating whatsoever, you will be warned.
5. Said participation in the community should always be positive. Hateful, racist or sexist comments, disrespect and the like will not be tolerated. If this happens, you will be warned. If it happens more than once, measures will be taken.
6. It is encouraged that you get some sort of job to actively help the community grow and become even stronger. You are not required to get a job, especially if you participate actively in other ways, but you are not allowed to merely slack for years and years.
7. Take good care of your apartment! It is entrusted to you when you register, and if you abuse this trust, there will be consequences.
8. Prohibited behavior: Stealing, violence (unless staged), prostitution (unless sanctioned by The Four Sisters), abuse towards anyone – especially animals and children, abuse of Pets, bringing a car into the community, buying a house without clearance, taking anything out of the Library or the Town Hall. For a more comprehensive list, read the rules and regulations in the Library.
I shrugged. It all sounded like the normal, fundamental things that applied everywhere to me, despite a few oddities. What confused me, though, was the fact that this was apparently merely information, and not the rules and regulations I had heard so much about.
This place seemed to have so many different sets of rules that it could make anyone’s head spin.
I contemplated staying in the apartment for a while longer, but decided that it was rather pointless, considering that there was nothing here. Instead I went back outside to get to know Ixero better. Seeing as it was going to be my home for an indefinite amount of time, I better know my way around the place.
So far, it looked fairly tame, not all that interesting. Not to me, anyway – I had seen quite a lot of things, so maybe I was a bit jaded. But honestly, I had no idea what the intense appeal of this place was. I wanted to tell myself that the other cities were probably more interesting, that all the newcomers were placed somewhere boring to weed out the ones that weren’t determined enough to make a contribution, who didn’t want to do the work to get to the really interesting places.
However, everyone I saw looked content and even happy; a lot of them were deep in conversation, others sat on benches eating ice cream, yet others were shopping in one of the many shops. In short, it looked like just another city, and not one populated by newcomers, either.
Maybe I really was too jaded.
I passed by the Library, but couldn’t be bothered to go in – I could read the other rules sometime later. It wasn’t as if I was planning on doing anything out of the ordinary, after all. In fact I didn’t have any plans for a while, apart from getting to know the place properly. I always took my time when I was starting something new like this.
After a while, I decided that Ixero was just like any other town. Nothing more, nothing less. As far as I could tell, anyway. And yet, I kept walking, figuring that the more time I spent looking around, the more familiar I would become, and I’d become less of a newcomer at the same time.
It took me a long while to register the fact that I was being followed. Most likely because I didn’t really pay any attention to anything behind me, or possibly because whenever I glanced at the street behind me, I saw no one – except a couple of quick movements here and there. But I wasn’t paranoid, so I didn’t think much of it, until the person came closer, close enough for me to hear the footsteps.
When I turned around, abruptly, I was surprised to find myself face to face with a mere child. A boy, by the looks of it, who could be anything from eight to fifteen years old from his appearance alone. He was unnaturally pale, however, even more so than Dakota. This was a different kind of paleness. The boy looked downright sick to the point of being ghostly, something which was accentuated even more by the grayish tint to his lips and cheeks, and by his white and grey hair.
By now I had seen people with hair in all colors of the rainbow and then some, so I didn’t really react to it all that much – it seemed to be simply the way things worked here. The boy looked up at me and bit his lower lip, as if he wanted to say something, but wasn’t quite sure what. I had to admit it, I could sympathize. I never knew quite what to say when I met new people either, and it didn’t particularly matter whether it was children or adults. However, seeing as I was the grown-up in this situation, I should probably be the one to speak up.
“Did you want something?” I asked, trying my best to sound kind. I was never very good at sounding kind, but at least I tried.
The boy merely shook his head and kept looking up at me, giving me a chance to take in his appearance beyond his face (which was a cute one, as far as sickly boys went). He was dressed strangely, in an oversized white top that reached down to his thighs, the sleeves so long that they nearly reached his knees. Oddly enough he wasn’t wearing any pants; instead he was wearing black and white striped stockings that went up to the middle of his thighs, though one had fallen down below his knee. I found it even stranger that these skimpy clothes were combined with sturdy black leather boots that looked about four sizes too big for him.
Very strange boy, I concluded.
“Am I home? Where’s my home?” the boy finally asked, looking confused. Probably about as confused as I looked at the very same moment. Of all the things I might have anticipated the boy to say, that was certainly not one of them.
“I don’t know if this is your home,” I replied, almost carefully. The cynical part of me wondered if this was some kind of test they put all the newcomers through, to see how they handled these kinds of bizarre situations that were no doubt bound to come up every now and then in a place like this.
“Why don’t you know? I just want to go home. Please tell me where my home is,” the boy said, his voice slightly unsteady. He looked like he was on the verge of tears, but even though I felt immensely sorry for him (and I don’t usually feel sorry for random boys that talk to me on the street), I didn’t know what to say in response.
I didn’t know where this boy’s home was, after all, even if he somehow seemed to think that I did. “I just came here,” I explained, unusually patiently. “I don’t know you, so I have no idea if this is your home, or where your home is. I hardly even know where my own home is.”
The boy seemed even more confused about this new information, and he looked up at me with wide eyes. He reminded me of one of those lost puppies you see in pet stores, one of those that are just begging you to bring them home with them. But I had never taken any of those puppies home with me, and I didn’t intend on taking this boy with me either.
“Listen. I don’t know if you’re trying to play a prank on me or what,” I said, starting to get slightly irritated. I figured that wasn’t really all that strange, even if this boy hardly looked like the type to play pranks.
He shook his head frantically, taking a step closer to me and taking a hold of my coat sleeve with a hand covered by his own sleeve. “I’m not playing a prank, I… I don’t remember where I live,” he muttered, so quietly that I almost had to bend down to hear him. “I don’t remember anything. I don’t know my real name, who my family is, where I belong, anything.”
“Hm,” I said, and then fell silent, while the boy kept looking up at me with those big pleading eyes. I noted absentmindedly that they were grey as well – it made me want to take the boy to a clothes store and get him clothes with some colors. He seemed to be stuck in grayscale, when the rest of the world was painted in brilliant colors. Something was definitely off with this boy, there was no doubt about that.
“So you don’t have a name?” I asked at length, because I couldn’t think of anything else to say.
He shook his head again, then hesitated. “Well, I’ve been calling myself Rei, because I have a locket with the initials R.G. engraved, so I think something with R is my first name. That makes sense, right?”
I nodded, even smiled slightly. “Yeah, that makes sense. So Rei, huh? My name is Kai, so we have pretty similar names, whether they’re real or not.”
The boy, Rei, beamed up at me. Apparently it didn’t take all that much to cheer him up. But still, I couldn’t keep talking to him forever; he was interesting, sure, but I didn’t come to this place to talk to little boys without memories – especially when I had no way of telling if he was actually telling me the truth.
“Well, Rei, what do you say we go to either the Town Hall or the Library to see if we can find out where you belong?” I asked, thinking that no matter what, I should be able to get rid of him in either of those two places. He had to be registered, after all.
But the boy surprised me. “We can’t do that,” he replied insistently.
“And why not?”
“Because I’m not registered,” he said, almost shamefully. As if that was something to be ashamed of. Though, come to think of it, it probably was.
“Why aren’t you registered?” I asked, half out of genuine curiosity, half out of frustration. My first day, and I end up dragging some lost kid around? Not exactly my idea of fun.
He looked down on the ground, kicked it with his boot. “The clerk says that there’s no one with the name Rei registered. She looked it up in all the other cities as well. There’s no one registered with the name Rei. So… I guess I registered with a different name, but I forgot it. So now I don’t know where my home is. Do you think Ixero is my home?”
I didn’t know what to say, though I figured that his explanation made sense. And, it relieved me to know that I didn’t have to go talk to the clerk again – I had a feeling that she would hit me over the head with something hard if I came back on the first day, asking questions already. “I don’t know, Rei. Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. How long have you been walking around not knowing who you are or where you belong?”
He shrugged a little, and it seemed like he was almost embarrassed by not remembering anything, even though I doubted that was his fault. “For a few weeks now, I’m not really sure. I haven’t been keeping track of the days.”
I nodded, somewhat relieved. “At least you’re not a newcomer anymore,” I offered, and got a small smile in return. Rei still looked lost, however, and I felt genuinely sorry for him. For a few minutes we merely stood there without saying anything, before I finally sighed.
This was definitely not something I wanted to do, and especially not on my first day. I was still a newcomer, after all, I had no business taking in lost children or trying to right things that had somehow gone wrong. But I couldn’t stop myself from thinking that this was a test of some sort, and I was pretty sure that telling the boy to get lost would not be the right solution if this was indeed a test.
“Okay, this is what we’ll do. You’ll come home with me, at least for tonight. I’m a newcomer, so my apartment isn’t exactly much of a home, but you’ll have a roof over your head, if nothing else. Then we’ll try to figure out where you belong in the morning. Does that sound good to you?”
Rei seemed to think the suggestion over, and then nodded, taking my hand as if I was his older brother or caretaker. I flinched and pulled my hand away – not because the touch was painful, but merely because I wasn’t comfortable with that kind of closeness. He looked slightly confused, but didn’t try to take my hand again as we started walking, back towards my street and my apartment.
“I promise I won’t be in the way,” Rei said quietly, and even if I had always been a longer, I did sort of like the idea of having someone in my apartment for my first night in Ixero. Couldn’t hurt. Unless he was some kind of tiny serial killer sent out by the city owners to have me murdered in my sleep, of course. Not that I thought he was, but in a place like this, it was difficult to really trust anyone.
Once we reached the apartment, Rei made himself at home, roaming around the whole place and I smiled over just how enthusiastic he was, even if I had a feeling that he was putting on a show so he wouldn’t hurt me.
I told him to go to sleep not long after, and he curled up on the floor even if I said that he could have the bed, that I was used to sleeping on floors anyway. He countered that he was used to sleeping outside, on whatever surface he could find, and seeing as it was rather difficult to argue with that, I let him sleep on the floor. He curled up like a kitten, underneath my coat, and he looked almost peaceful.
“Tomorrow we’ll figure out where you belong,” I told him, and I honestly believed that myself. Rei would sleep here tonight, and then we’d find some way of finding out where his home was and what his name was in the morning.
Four days later, he was still living in my apartment.
Somehow, I was starting to think that none of my plans were going to work out.
~tbc~
I had to admit it; I was confused. Granted, I was a newcomer, but I was fairly sure that it wasn’t normal for people to just disappear like that. Unsure of what to do, I looked around, and then picked up the flowers. They looked crumpled, as if they had narrowly escaped being crushed altogether. It made Dakota’s fate even more mysterious – was this some sort of test for newcomers, one I hadn’t read about? Or was there really something going on?
One thing was certain; I shouldn’t stay here any longer. I’d rather not disappear as well, after all.
I got to my feet and put the flowers carefully in my coat pocket and then approached the gate of what was to be my home city, Ixero. The guard gave me a look of admonishment, as if I was supposed to have gone straight in before, but at least he pushed the gate open. I wanted to ask him about Dakota, if he had seen what happened, but he merely pushed me inside and shut the gate behind me before I had a chance to even think about what to say.
From what I could see, the city looked like any other city. There were buildings of various sizes and colors, there were shops and restaurants, there were people in the streets. The only thing that stood out right from the start was that there was no cars in the streets, something which made the air seem almost too clear. A few people glanced in my direction as I entered, but nobody talked to me. Quite frankly, I was relieved. I wanted to get to know the place before I started chatting to anyone.
But before checking the city out, I looked at the map conveniently placed right next to the gate, and walked through the streets until I found the Town Hall. The building looked old, older than any of the others I had seen so far – it made me wonder if the Town Hall had been built before everything else, or if they had made it look old on purpose.
There was no line, and I walked up to the clerk sitting behind her desk, clearing my throat to get her attention. She looked as old as the building itself, with grey hair, thick glasses and a mass of wrinkles. I didn’t know why, but I didn’t like her.
“You’re late,” was the first thing she said, and then she handed me a form. “Fill this out, it’s your registration form. Don’t lie, don’t embellish, don’t ask stupid questions.”
I had the feeling that she had said the exact same thing a thousand times over, and merely nodded as I took the form and sat down at a table to fill it out. Name, birth date, occupation, education; all the things I had already filled out on my application form. I took my time, wrote down all the information as I had written them down before, word for word.
The clerk looked if possible even more annoyed when I handed the form in again. “Slow, aren’t you? Well, you’re not the first.” She skimmed over my answers, then nodded and handed me a folder, a key, and a name tag.
“This is all the information you need. Read it carefully. Your apartment is on the fifth street, the yellow house. Third floor. Use your name tag only when you get yourself a job, if you wear it everywhere you’ll just look like the newcomer you are.” She looked me over with disdain, probably wondering why they had let someone like me in. But she was merely the registration clerk, she couldn’t protest.
“You may leave,” she huffed, and then went back to her work.
I left.
Technically, the next thing I should do was to head to the Library to read the rules and regulations, but well, I had never been one for following the rules and regulations, so instead I wandered through Ixero to find my apartment. I didn’t have high hopes for it – I was a newcomer, after all, there was no reason so give me a luxurious place right off the bat.
I was right, too. The apartment I found was almost completely bare; it had a table and a chair, and a narrow bed, but at least it looked clean and whole, and the windows were big, letting in a lot of light. The walls were painted a delicate shade of blue-grey, and I had to admit that I liked it. I didn’t have many plans for upgrading the place, but a bit more furniture could be nice. Maybe some posters, maybe a wardrobe. I’d look less like a newcomer if I didn’t have such a basic apartment, and if I didn’t wear the same clothes all the time, like I was used to doing.
All in all, I was pretty satisfied so far. Satisfied, but confused. I still had no idea what had happened to Dakota, and there was nobody I could ask, either. It wasn’t as if the clerk had invited questions. With a small sigh I fished the remnants of the flowers up from my coat pocket and laid them carefully on the table, before I sat down to read the information I had been given.
1. Respect The Four Sisters. Disrespect, slander, bad-mouthing, etc. will not be tolerated.
2. Do not bother The Four Sisters with inane questions. They are not oracles; they will not answer your questions or offer you help unless there is a proper reason for it. Even if you have a valid question, they might not help. The Four Sisters do what they want, not what you want.
3. Respect your Town Elders, the Librarians, the Clerks, and the Rabbits. They are what makes this community run smoothly.
4. Participate in the community. Being non-communicative will be frowned upon, even if it’s technically not against the rules. If you spend enough time not participating whatsoever, you will be warned.
5. Said participation in the community should always be positive. Hateful, racist or sexist comments, disrespect and the like will not be tolerated. If this happens, you will be warned. If it happens more than once, measures will be taken.
6. It is encouraged that you get some sort of job to actively help the community grow and become even stronger. You are not required to get a job, especially if you participate actively in other ways, but you are not allowed to merely slack for years and years.
7. Take good care of your apartment! It is entrusted to you when you register, and if you abuse this trust, there will be consequences.
8. Prohibited behavior: Stealing, violence (unless staged), prostitution (unless sanctioned by The Four Sisters), abuse towards anyone – especially animals and children, abuse of Pets, bringing a car into the community, buying a house without clearance, taking anything out of the Library or the Town Hall. For a more comprehensive list, read the rules and regulations in the Library.
I shrugged. It all sounded like the normal, fundamental things that applied everywhere to me, despite a few oddities. What confused me, though, was the fact that this was apparently merely information, and not the rules and regulations I had heard so much about.
This place seemed to have so many different sets of rules that it could make anyone’s head spin.
I contemplated staying in the apartment for a while longer, but decided that it was rather pointless, considering that there was nothing here. Instead I went back outside to get to know Ixero better. Seeing as it was going to be my home for an indefinite amount of time, I better know my way around the place.
So far, it looked fairly tame, not all that interesting. Not to me, anyway – I had seen quite a lot of things, so maybe I was a bit jaded. But honestly, I had no idea what the intense appeal of this place was. I wanted to tell myself that the other cities were probably more interesting, that all the newcomers were placed somewhere boring to weed out the ones that weren’t determined enough to make a contribution, who didn’t want to do the work to get to the really interesting places.
However, everyone I saw looked content and even happy; a lot of them were deep in conversation, others sat on benches eating ice cream, yet others were shopping in one of the many shops. In short, it looked like just another city, and not one populated by newcomers, either.
Maybe I really was too jaded.
I passed by the Library, but couldn’t be bothered to go in – I could read the other rules sometime later. It wasn’t as if I was planning on doing anything out of the ordinary, after all. In fact I didn’t have any plans for a while, apart from getting to know the place properly. I always took my time when I was starting something new like this.
After a while, I decided that Ixero was just like any other town. Nothing more, nothing less. As far as I could tell, anyway. And yet, I kept walking, figuring that the more time I spent looking around, the more familiar I would become, and I’d become less of a newcomer at the same time.
It took me a long while to register the fact that I was being followed. Most likely because I didn’t really pay any attention to anything behind me, or possibly because whenever I glanced at the street behind me, I saw no one – except a couple of quick movements here and there. But I wasn’t paranoid, so I didn’t think much of it, until the person came closer, close enough for me to hear the footsteps.
When I turned around, abruptly, I was surprised to find myself face to face with a mere child. A boy, by the looks of it, who could be anything from eight to fifteen years old from his appearance alone. He was unnaturally pale, however, even more so than Dakota. This was a different kind of paleness. The boy looked downright sick to the point of being ghostly, something which was accentuated even more by the grayish tint to his lips and cheeks, and by his white and grey hair.
By now I had seen people with hair in all colors of the rainbow and then some, so I didn’t really react to it all that much – it seemed to be simply the way things worked here. The boy looked up at me and bit his lower lip, as if he wanted to say something, but wasn’t quite sure what. I had to admit it, I could sympathize. I never knew quite what to say when I met new people either, and it didn’t particularly matter whether it was children or adults. However, seeing as I was the grown-up in this situation, I should probably be the one to speak up.
“Did you want something?” I asked, trying my best to sound kind. I was never very good at sounding kind, but at least I tried.
The boy merely shook his head and kept looking up at me, giving me a chance to take in his appearance beyond his face (which was a cute one, as far as sickly boys went). He was dressed strangely, in an oversized white top that reached down to his thighs, the sleeves so long that they nearly reached his knees. Oddly enough he wasn’t wearing any pants; instead he was wearing black and white striped stockings that went up to the middle of his thighs, though one had fallen down below his knee. I found it even stranger that these skimpy clothes were combined with sturdy black leather boots that looked about four sizes too big for him.
Very strange boy, I concluded.
“Am I home? Where’s my home?” the boy finally asked, looking confused. Probably about as confused as I looked at the very same moment. Of all the things I might have anticipated the boy to say, that was certainly not one of them.
“I don’t know if this is your home,” I replied, almost carefully. The cynical part of me wondered if this was some kind of test they put all the newcomers through, to see how they handled these kinds of bizarre situations that were no doubt bound to come up every now and then in a place like this.
“Why don’t you know? I just want to go home. Please tell me where my home is,” the boy said, his voice slightly unsteady. He looked like he was on the verge of tears, but even though I felt immensely sorry for him (and I don’t usually feel sorry for random boys that talk to me on the street), I didn’t know what to say in response.
I didn’t know where this boy’s home was, after all, even if he somehow seemed to think that I did. “I just came here,” I explained, unusually patiently. “I don’t know you, so I have no idea if this is your home, or where your home is. I hardly even know where my own home is.”
The boy seemed even more confused about this new information, and he looked up at me with wide eyes. He reminded me of one of those lost puppies you see in pet stores, one of those that are just begging you to bring them home with them. But I had never taken any of those puppies home with me, and I didn’t intend on taking this boy with me either.
“Listen. I don’t know if you’re trying to play a prank on me or what,” I said, starting to get slightly irritated. I figured that wasn’t really all that strange, even if this boy hardly looked like the type to play pranks.
He shook his head frantically, taking a step closer to me and taking a hold of my coat sleeve with a hand covered by his own sleeve. “I’m not playing a prank, I… I don’t remember where I live,” he muttered, so quietly that I almost had to bend down to hear him. “I don’t remember anything. I don’t know my real name, who my family is, where I belong, anything.”
“Hm,” I said, and then fell silent, while the boy kept looking up at me with those big pleading eyes. I noted absentmindedly that they were grey as well – it made me want to take the boy to a clothes store and get him clothes with some colors. He seemed to be stuck in grayscale, when the rest of the world was painted in brilliant colors. Something was definitely off with this boy, there was no doubt about that.
“So you don’t have a name?” I asked at length, because I couldn’t think of anything else to say.
He shook his head again, then hesitated. “Well, I’ve been calling myself Rei, because I have a locket with the initials R.G. engraved, so I think something with R is my first name. That makes sense, right?”
I nodded, even smiled slightly. “Yeah, that makes sense. So Rei, huh? My name is Kai, so we have pretty similar names, whether they’re real or not.”
The boy, Rei, beamed up at me. Apparently it didn’t take all that much to cheer him up. But still, I couldn’t keep talking to him forever; he was interesting, sure, but I didn’t come to this place to talk to little boys without memories – especially when I had no way of telling if he was actually telling me the truth.
“Well, Rei, what do you say we go to either the Town Hall or the Library to see if we can find out where you belong?” I asked, thinking that no matter what, I should be able to get rid of him in either of those two places. He had to be registered, after all.
But the boy surprised me. “We can’t do that,” he replied insistently.
“And why not?”
“Because I’m not registered,” he said, almost shamefully. As if that was something to be ashamed of. Though, come to think of it, it probably was.
“Why aren’t you registered?” I asked, half out of genuine curiosity, half out of frustration. My first day, and I end up dragging some lost kid around? Not exactly my idea of fun.
He looked down on the ground, kicked it with his boot. “The clerk says that there’s no one with the name Rei registered. She looked it up in all the other cities as well. There’s no one registered with the name Rei. So… I guess I registered with a different name, but I forgot it. So now I don’t know where my home is. Do you think Ixero is my home?”
I didn’t know what to say, though I figured that his explanation made sense. And, it relieved me to know that I didn’t have to go talk to the clerk again – I had a feeling that she would hit me over the head with something hard if I came back on the first day, asking questions already. “I don’t know, Rei. Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. How long have you been walking around not knowing who you are or where you belong?”
He shrugged a little, and it seemed like he was almost embarrassed by not remembering anything, even though I doubted that was his fault. “For a few weeks now, I’m not really sure. I haven’t been keeping track of the days.”
I nodded, somewhat relieved. “At least you’re not a newcomer anymore,” I offered, and got a small smile in return. Rei still looked lost, however, and I felt genuinely sorry for him. For a few minutes we merely stood there without saying anything, before I finally sighed.
This was definitely not something I wanted to do, and especially not on my first day. I was still a newcomer, after all, I had no business taking in lost children or trying to right things that had somehow gone wrong. But I couldn’t stop myself from thinking that this was a test of some sort, and I was pretty sure that telling the boy to get lost would not be the right solution if this was indeed a test.
“Okay, this is what we’ll do. You’ll come home with me, at least for tonight. I’m a newcomer, so my apartment isn’t exactly much of a home, but you’ll have a roof over your head, if nothing else. Then we’ll try to figure out where you belong in the morning. Does that sound good to you?”
Rei seemed to think the suggestion over, and then nodded, taking my hand as if I was his older brother or caretaker. I flinched and pulled my hand away – not because the touch was painful, but merely because I wasn’t comfortable with that kind of closeness. He looked slightly confused, but didn’t try to take my hand again as we started walking, back towards my street and my apartment.
“I promise I won’t be in the way,” Rei said quietly, and even if I had always been a longer, I did sort of like the idea of having someone in my apartment for my first night in Ixero. Couldn’t hurt. Unless he was some kind of tiny serial killer sent out by the city owners to have me murdered in my sleep, of course. Not that I thought he was, but in a place like this, it was difficult to really trust anyone.
Once we reached the apartment, Rei made himself at home, roaming around the whole place and I smiled over just how enthusiastic he was, even if I had a feeling that he was putting on a show so he wouldn’t hurt me.
I told him to go to sleep not long after, and he curled up on the floor even if I said that he could have the bed, that I was used to sleeping on floors anyway. He countered that he was used to sleeping outside, on whatever surface he could find, and seeing as it was rather difficult to argue with that, I let him sleep on the floor. He curled up like a kitten, underneath my coat, and he looked almost peaceful.
“Tomorrow we’ll figure out where you belong,” I told him, and I honestly believed that myself. Rei would sleep here tonight, and then we’d find some way of finding out where his home was and what his name was in the morning.
Four days later, he was still living in my apartment.
Somehow, I was starting to think that none of my plans were going to work out.
~tbc~
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Profile: Nadia
Name: Nadia
Name meaning: Hope
Nickname: The ice princess.
Type: Bambicrony Kumi
Age: 7
Race: Human.
Nationality: Russian.
Sexuality: --
Eyes: Black/grey.
Hair: Black, but is occasionally seen in other colors.
Distinguishing features: nothing in particular, apart from the fact that she's always color coordinated.
Clothing style: EGL or sweet lolita.
Occupation: Student, plans on being a princess when she grows up.
Lives in: The Plains, near The Hills.
Likes: Clothes, shoes and accessories (as long as they're things she'll approve of), elegance, boys to a certain extent, dressing up, snow and ice.
Dislikes: Summer and the sun in general, sloppy clothes, people dressing inappropriately, stupidity.
Personality: A right little princess, very cool in appearance, doesn't warm up to people easily. Very intelligent, grown-up for her age.
Relationships: Student at the same school as several of the others, though it's only Kanata she'll talk to.
History:
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Make-over: Kyo
Ever since I got him, nearly two years ago, Kyo has looked exactly the same; the same hairstyle, the same kinds of clothes, everything. So I figured it was about time to try something new for him. And even if the new hairstyle is a bit too tidy for him, I'm still happy with how it turned out.
Before -
After -
Before -
After -
Monday, February 11, 2008
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Saturday, February 9, 2008
Profile: Mirabella
Name: Mirabella
Name meaning: Fantastic
Nicname: Mira or Bella
Type: Luts BW Elf Chiwoo girl
Age: 15
Race: Human.
Nationality: Japanese Father, English mother. Raised in Italy.
Sexuality: Straight.
Eyes: Jade green.
Hair: White, very long.
Distinguishing features: Elf ears (operation ordered by Ming Yue), her pale skin.
Clothing style: Simple and elegant, often in kimonos now that she's in Japan.
Occupation: Student and painter.
Lives in: The Hills.
Likes: Libraries (especially big and old ones), Japan, Rome, galleries, studying art history, having a choice.
Dislikes: Ming Yue - intensely. Having people decide over her, having decisions made for her, being forced to do things she doesn't want to do.
Personality: Very quiet, although she's not shy. Stubborn and willful, but feels like her life is destined and that she has no way out.
Relationships: Engaged to Ming Yue. Jun's twin sister - though nobody knows this apart from Ming Yue. Starting to get to know Arai.
History:
Friday, February 8, 2008
Thursday, February 7, 2008
Profile: Ming Yue
Name: Ming Yue
Name meaning:
Type: Luts Moon
Age: 32.
Race: Human.
Nationality: Chinese.
Sexuality: Bisexual.
Eyes: One blue and one brown.
Hair: Silver with black streaks, long.
Distinguishing features: Mostly his different colored eyes.
Clothing style: Always kimonos, owns quite the collection.
Occupation: Owner of a whole bunch of companies.
Lives in: The Hills, near the very top.
Likes: Everything about Japan, all things traditional, fine arts, having free time. Getting things his own way - which he always does.
Dislikes: Pretty much everything American, European, African - anything not Japanese. People trying to oppose him.
Personality: Intelligent and ruthless; cold and warm at the same time. Is a bit of a mystery to even the people closest to him.
Relationships: Engaged to Mirabella. Has Arai as a lover. Has some history with Dakota. Knows most of the others because he employs them or controls their lives in one way or another. Owns Sirion.
History:
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Artsy shot: Reluctant
Ming Yue and his fiancee, Mirabella. Who is not all that happy about having to marry him...
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