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PurpleBox
Ho! Miscreant!
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#33 | |||
Tristan nodded he knew that you always remembered things you picked up over the years… like his and Ian’s accents… Tristan’s own not being as strong as Ian’s. “I’m not ready for this lesson to be over.” The young boy declared and Ian sighed, a slight smile on his face.
“Why don’t you join us of our place yeah? No place is truly safe anymore unless you set it up yourself.” Ian muttered the last part. He’d always had a dream to set up his own community in the wilderness. No military… just human decency and manners to rule them… but it was just a dream… he had no resources for a project that big and he didn’t trust enough people to live with them in close quarters like that. The trio made their way down from the roof and to the siblings apartment, it was small, the kitchen and living room where connected and there were only two other doors, one was the bathroom, rarely used, and the other was the bedroom/ store room. Ian and Tristan took turns sleeping on the bed and on the couch. “It’s not much but it’s home.” Tristan was grinning, his own comics and papers in his arms as he walked over to the couch and plopped down on it , setting the paper things onto the floor. Ian moved to the kitchen and took out some bottles of water, the fridge was one of the cleaner things in here. As the city did have power, baring the blackouts in the summer, the fridge saw use of keeping the water cool for the inhabitants. “Here” Ian touched one to Aren’s shoulder, grinning at the slight jump at the cold touch before handing the bottle to the man, then tossing the other to Tristan who caught it. Ian leaned against the counter and cracked open his own and sipped at it sparingly. | ||||
Posted 06-10-2018, 01:21 AM |
#34 |
sylvanSpider
Weaver of Webs
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Aren readily accepted, not yet ready to return to his own bleak apartment. Granted, he had work that he could be doing there. He'd managed to bring back one of the best sealed samples (from the stalk rather than the spores, reducing risk of infection) but he could work on that in evening after the lockdown was over). He followed the brothers to their place, which, not quite unexpectedly, was a mirror image of his own, at least, so far as the layout went. They'd built it for two people and must have been assigned to the same general living quarters. It helped that they lived in the same building. All that is empty in the drawing should be filled in, the teacher said to us kids. First you sharpen the pencil to fill in the thin whiskers, then you use the thick crayon to fill in the wings with brown, meticulously and without letting the crayon leave the page. Six feet can be traced below the soft belly. Now, breathing is hard to detect on paper, the teacher said to me when I asked, but it is easier to feel it in real life.
Even insects breathe. -Rawi Hage, Cockroach | ||||
Posted 06-11-2018, 05:37 PM |
PurpleBox
Ho! Miscreant!
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#35 | |||
Ian had always tried his best to make any space he and Tristan where in feel homey and lived in. ‘Make sure he grows up knowing how to smile.’ their mother had told Ian with some of her last breaths... and Ian had done just that, going out of his way to see his baby brother smile and laugh.
“Mr Wallace’s place is like a storage unit… like he had a set path that is always there and everything else is covered in boxes and gear…” Tristan said absentmindedly as he carefully accepted the book form Aren. “Ian made up most of the ones he told me…. Would get inspiration from something we’d seen earlier that day and have a story by the time i was sleepy… never got the same story twice.” He added with a small smile when he heard Ian scoff. “That old coot is the guy to go to if you need you cloths and things like that Tris… so of course his place would be piled high with stuff. Got your shoes from his last year remember?” Ian said with a smile as he sipped at his water. With reading out loud Tristan read a little to fast… he tried to slow himself down a few times but the sounds slipped out too quickly to catch most times. An house later a loud knock on their door, the sound made Tristan jump and Ian frown as he schooled his features into a neutral set. Opening the door revealed two military soldiers in full gear, one with a clipboard and a list. “Ian and Tristan McLocke?....and?” The one with the list read off, seeing the ginger haired man and the blonde, looking down the list to find Aren’s name. | ||||
Posted 06-11-2018, 08:14 PM |
#36 |
sylvanSpider
Weaver of Webs
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[indent]Aren grew up on the bare essentials. Home was to Aren simply a space to exist in. There was no need for a home when one brother was never home and the other spent his days lost in a world of written words. Smiling was left to the happy and Aren was more than content to conserve the energy. “I don't know that there's much stuff though. It's a storage unit to the bare minimum it might take for one survive. And check it; I'm still here for better or for worse.†Aren's hands fidgeted in his lap, not used to actually having people to talk to. After his brother died, it took him three days to say even one word – the first being uttered to Celia, if only because she didn't deserve his silence.
“It sounds like Ian would have made a pretty good pre-Reckoning writer. Comics aren't the only books that exist with damn good stories, you know?†Aren found himself more and more impressed with the boy's tenacity and willingness to learn. His reading fast was actually quite impressive, and it was obvious that Aren hadn't taught him his first, and that he'd been practicing. “And Aren Reizian,†Aren finished for the officer, “Of apartment 311. You'll find that one empty...sir.†All that is empty in the drawing should be filled in, the teacher said to us kids. First you sharpen the pencil to fill in the thin whiskers, then you use the thick crayon to fill in the wings with brown, meticulously and without letting the crayon leave the page. Six feet can be traced below the soft belly. Now, breathing is hard to detect on paper, the teacher said to me when I asked, but it is easier to feel it in real life.
Even insects breathe. -Rawi Hage, Cockroach | ||||
Posted 06-14-2018, 11:39 PM |
PurpleBox
Ho! Miscreant!
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#37 | |||
Ian snorted out a laugh as the pair on the floor talked about the pre Reckoning days… Ian had never thought about what he’d wanted to be… he’d just been a young kid… and then he’d had to focus on protecting his mum… even after his step dad entered the picture and gave them Tristan…. Ian felt cold at the memory that always came up when his step father was in his mind…
They’d been in a sewer drain, hiding from some Growths that did not want to give up on them. Mum was rocking a very small baby Tristan to keep his quite and the man that was the blonds father was holding a rifle in his hands, nursing a wound on his shoulder…. Ian could tell it was a bite…. And by this time he knew that it took at most two days for a person to give into the bite…. “Ian… Ian I need you to do something for me...get your mom and brother somewhere safe… the further from here the better….” The man pressed a hand to his mouth to smother a cough that accompanied his hushed words. Behind then his mother was already gathering her bag, her eyes red from unshed tears that had been silent. She had known what the man was going to ask of her oldest son, she and her man had said their goodbyes already. Once his mother had been moved to a safer place, far enough away that any big noses would draw the Growths and Runners away from her and her baby. The man face Ian again, his skin pale and sunken, the bite already looking like it was festering. “Now son…. I want you to be brave for your mom and brother… he’ll need someone strong to protect him in this world… here.” The man handed Ian a pistol, the same one Ian still had now, and closed the ginger lads pale hands over the gun and had those hands point the gun at his head. “You know what I’m asking Ian…. I don’t want to become one of those things...and my shooting arm is no good…. I hate to ask this….” At his side his useless arm hung, the bite to the shoulder having already deadend the arm, spreading in the man's tissue. “I can’t do that you to!” Ian hissed out, while young he was still smart enough to not actually shout. The man gave him a strained smile. “You have to son… you can’t hesitate…. I can feel it taking over my mind….if not for me then for your mom...don’t let her last memories of me be turned into one of those mindless things…. Please.” HIs voice was going soft, like he was losing his use of it as his eyes began to cloud over, his dead arm began to twitch…. This was moving faster than any of the other bites the young Ian had seen. With shaking hands Ian held the pistol level with the forehead of his step father… the man who was basically his dad after his own had died in the initial outbreak…. Closing his eyes and looking away, he pulled the trigger as he heard the gurgled struggled to make sound. The shot of the gun echoing in the storm drain…. And the recoil of the small pistol shaking Ian’s hands and wrists. Without looking at the body that hit the ground Ian turned and ran. Ran back to his mum, ran back to his baby brother, the two of them safely up in a wooden tower with a retractable ladder as the only entrance of exit. That night he’d sobbed into his mother bossum as Tristan fed from their mom as well. Shaking his head to bring himself back to the present Ian kept his face neutral and so did Tristan. “Ah yes here’s your name...yes, good this floor and the third all accounted for then.” The soldier said checking things off on his clipboard. “Mr Reizian, since there is a empty opening in your unit, we would like to house a youth with you…. There has been a decrease of livable space…. We are looking for any citizens willing to take in one or two people into their units for a few months.” The other soldier said, this guy looked more official and like he had never set foot outside the walls. Ian grit his teeth together… Aren’s brother had passed recently and they were already trying to foist another person into his space…. It made Ian sick… but he held back his words… without really waiting for a confirmation or a denie to their ‘request’ the pair of soldiers left. Ian only spoke after the sound of their footsteps faded. “Well… it seems that the fire, whoever started it… destroyed valuable housing… there’s so little still usable… well… you’re welcome here any time…. Weather I’m here or not…” Ian said finishing off his water. Ian knew he’d have other jobs besides this one… and with summer coming up, he’d be in high demand for this sector to try and find goods that the military hung onto tightly. | ||||
Posted 06-15-2018, 12:44 AM |
#38 |
sylvanSpider
Weaver of Webs
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Aren cocked an eyebrow to the older brother, “What's so funny? I mean it. Most of good writing is being able to come up with a good story. The rest is all words and you can be as poetic or forward as you want. Take Hemingway, man. He was considered a classic once upon a time and his shi---stuff is so dry it makes my eyes water.†Pulling from the bottom of his little stack of books, Aren handed Tristan the thickest of the books. “Based on what you've shown me today, I think you're ready for this.†The book, while thick, had fairly large print, an invigorating story-line, and simple words. Technically, this one was geared towards middlle schoolers and Aren had long graduated from this level of reading. It was time to pass this on to someone else.
Aren faced the men in uniform with a face of stoicism that was in direct odds with everything in his heart. He'd been called “Mr. Reizian†a grand total of two times: the present moment and once two weeks ago. The memory was as fresh as it was yesterday, but then, it was quite recent. “Mr. Reizian? Am I correct?†the man's voice said, gentle, full of pity. Aren could remember the pit that had fallen in his stomach; he could do nothing but nod meekly, pressing his lips into a thin line in an attempt to steel himself against the oncoming news. He already knew why they were here. Serj was gone for three days on an expedition – he was supposed to be gone for two. The man cleared his throat, “I understand that you are assigned to these quarters with your brother Serj Reizian.†Again, Aren nodded once, gulping. “Y-yeah that's--†before Aren could finish the word “fine†the men left. Aren sighed and looked at Ian, hoping his face was as stoic as he was attempting. Hoping his eyes weren't as red-tinged as they had been the day that he found out the brother he barely knew was now gone. “Thanks man, I appreciate it,†Aren said, finally, “Once the lockdown is done I'm going to have to prepare for my new roommate, but it was fun hanging out. I can teach you at any time. And I have materials you can use to get better.†Here, Aren attempted a smile, but it was weak at best and could barely be recognized as genuine. All that is empty in the drawing should be filled in, the teacher said to us kids. First you sharpen the pencil to fill in the thin whiskers, then you use the thick crayon to fill in the wings with brown, meticulously and without letting the crayon leave the page. Six feet can be traced below the soft belly. Now, breathing is hard to detect on paper, the teacher said to me when I asked, but it is easier to feel it in real life.
Even insects breathe. -Rawi Hage, Cockroach
Last edited by sylvanSpider; 06-17-2018 at 08:44 PM.
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Posted 06-15-2018, 01:41 AM |
PurpleBox
Ho! Miscreant!
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#39 | |||
Blue eyes had been bright and wide at the new book, he’d never seen a book so thick, mostly because Ian himself never held onto any textbooks he found on the scavengers. That bright look vanished when the soldiers had come to the door, replaced with a cold impassivity. It was strange for someone to see a blank face on Tristan who was normally so bright and smiling, even if he came off as shy to the soldiers.
Ian waited a moment longer after the echoes of booted feet left. “Self important arse holes….” Ian grumbled. “I hope they don’t room you with a nosey person….” Ian said this for a few reasons...someone new coming into the apartment was always stressful, would they just settle in and not cause waves or would they try to become a big thing in the complex…. The ginger scavenger didn’t need something new prying into his business… more so if they were loyal to the military… though considering the district that had gone up in flames… they likely were not… but Ian was always careful and protective over what he considered his…. “I wonder if it will be a girl? They haven’t housed a girl with a guy outside of couples for a while right? To try and control the population?” Tristan piped in after a moment blue eyes bright once again after the soldiers had left. Ian nodded in thought. “Feel free to come over any time you want… Tristan could use a friend…. And I have a feeling I’ll be out on jobs for a while now…. Whenever something changes people always want more things from the outside…” Ian said rubbing the back of his head with a sigh. ----------------- Sooner than they expected the lock down lifted, it was still light out and not to late in the evening, smoke still rising form the burnt husk buildings in the sick district. Ian and Tristan thanked Aren again, the young blond enthusiastic about reading more and planning to practice his reading out loud when he could. Ian was pulling out some canned goods and squinting at the labels, fruit and some sort of pasta and cause… he opened the two and handed the pasta and sauce one to Tristan, taking the fruit for himself this time. Not even a hour after this a knock sounded at their apartment, a soft knock so Ian had a idea about who it was. At the door was a small boy, smaller than Tristan, he lived on the ground floor in a bigger apartment with many other children with his parents. “Mama wanted to ask you if you could get some toys?” He asked with a squeaky voice that probably wouldn't ever go away. Ian just nodded. “More kids are being sent to Mama and Papa…. Mama wants to make them smile… but we already have our own toys… so Mama wants more to give to the new kids.” The boy added and Ian just smiled slightly. “Sure thing Cooper, when are they getting here?” Ian asked, the little boy looked at his fingers squinting. “Papa said sometimes tomorrow….” Ian sighed to himself… looks like he would be doing a night run to get the toys from the rundown store, it had been left alone as most people didn't think to use the toys for parts in other things… Soon night fell and Ian was pulling on his pack to go out. Tristan was worrying his lip again. “ Why can’t you just go early tomorrow?” The boy clearly didn't want to be alone again so soon. Hugging his younger brother Ian sighed. “I’d risk running into the morning patrollers… they are always the most alert, no clue how… but it’s best I get this done now...cram my pack full of toys and at least make it back to the tunnels.” Ian said soothing a hand over the blond curls on his brothers head. Walking as quietly as he could down the stairs was a art now, Ian made no noise as he moved to the storage room, swiftly went in and moved the fake wall to drop himself down. Moving in the tunnels with his torch lit on his shoulder was also something he was used to and used to his advantage. | ||||
Posted 06-17-2018, 04:33 PM |
#40 |
sylvanSpider
Weaver of Webs
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The look on the young man's face was enough to make the edges of Aren's lips curl upward, ever so slightly. “Use it as long as you need. I'll ask you what you think of it once you finish,†he said.
Aren stood still for a moment, absorbing the fact that he was no longer going to be living alone. It felt like he'd always dreaded that empty apartment. Perhaps a roommate would be good for him.Perhaps a roommate could help fill the empty void that he felt every time he came home to no one. Perhaps a roommate could help the apartment feel like more of a home. “For my sake, I hope you're right. I ain't got much to hide, but I do have could get me locked up or killed – and I ain't talkin' about my gun,†he murmured scratching the back of his head. “A girl?†Aren asked, cocking an eyebrow, “They wouldn't, would they? Someone would fight that, I'm pretty sure. The last thing this city needs is more mouths to feed. I mean, I knew they'd pair me with someone eventually, or move me to one of the single rooms. Maybe this'll be good, yeah? When I meet him, I'll let ya'll know if he's good. And Ian? You don't gotta worry about me sayin' nothin'. Secret's safe with me.†> > > Back at the apartment, Aren set to work organizing the few things he had. Stacks of books were condensed and posters were moved. Leftover unexpiring rations were hidden under his bed under a sheet, and the samples safely sealed the slides by this point wrapped in a thin cloth and tucked up in a crevice under the bed. The first he'd been intentionally saving for out of the city expeditions, the latter was his most recent object of study that Ian helped him acquire. The work was mindlessly simple for most of it, and he was finished in under an hour, leaving stretches of off-white walls a blank canvas, half of the room's storage and space for furniture left empty and ready to taken up by a new roommate. Having finished with seemingly ample time, he picked up one of his books about mushrooms, specifically one with detailed pictures of Ophiocordyceps unilateralis. He plopped down on the bed, back resting against the wall. He barely began to thumb through the pages when he heard a click and the door opened. He jumped, not knowing why he was expecting a knock on the door from someone who was going to be living there. The second surprise came with the figure itself. The first thing he noticed was the size. Couldn't have been taller than 5'3, and Aren would have stood a good foot over them. The second was that his new roommate was a...was a she. Specifically, she was a scowling she, one with choppy shoulder-length brown hair framing an Asiatic face with large brown eyes, a wide-set nose, and lips pressed in the firm line of one who was at the end of her rope – if that rope was a noose. She was clad in torn jeans that pooled about the ankles, a black shirt, a black hoodie, and as if to complete the look, she'd even managed to find the nail polish to turn her nails black. A backpack's strap was slung over her shoulder, though the bag didn't appear to be completely full. Aren was on his feet immediately, shaking his head, “Ma'am, look, this ain't your room. I think they gave ya the wrong key.†The woman's facial expression didn't change as she looked down at a little slip of paper, “Aren Reizian? That you?†Aren was silent for a moment, his jaw set. “Yeah, he said after a moment, “That's me.†The woman pocketed the sheet of paper and held out her hand. “I'm your new roommate Takahata Saito. Can't have kids so they paired me with whoever, and that whoever happens to be you. You got complaint you can take it up with the city. Trust me, I don't wanna be here either.†Her voice was cool and collected, but Aren could see the red tinges to her nose, that same red a tint in glassy eyes. Again, Aren let the silence grow between them. He'd never been this long alone in a room with a girl before and he shifted on his feet and held out his hand, “Then I guess I'm Aren. I take it something happened in your district?†Takahata who was previously maintaining eye contact now looked away, inhaling deep through her nose, exhaling through slightly parted lips, “Yeah. Heard the sirens, did you? It's fucked up that that's what it took to get here. I've been applying for a transfer for months. Took my place burning down for them to accept, but here I am with nothing but this and a change of clothes, so I won I guess.†“Shit, I'm sorry. Take it you haven't been in the city long if it was District 3 you were kept in. That place is run by gangs isn't it?†Aren asked, sitting back down, moving his closed book over to the side. If this was going to be his new roommate, he might as well learn to be somewhat comfortable around her. “Two years. Traveled with a group of nomads before that. Compared to that life? This is fucking hell,†she said with a snort, sitting on her own bed, tossing her backpack to the side. “And gangs? No. That shithole is run by Mavrick and Mavrick alone. He and his goons rule the place, and if you're not with them, they sorta do whatever the fuck they want with you. He was the one that set fire to our building. Men, women, and children were all inside. He just didn't give a fuck.†By the time she got to her last sentence, she began trembling, fists clenched. He'd done something to her and she was holding a grudge. Just like Ian. Aren swallowed and crossed his legs, “Well, District 1 doesn't have him. At least not yet,†Aren said, trying to comfort, “Just try to keep your chin up and keep an eye out, yeah? Pretty much all we can do cooped up in this city like this.†“Tch. I'm not staying. At least not all the time. I'll find a way out to breathe. I had my ways in District 3; I'll find new ways here,†Takahata said tossing her hair, “And you won't breathe a word to anyone, got it?†Aren liked her. He could tell that right away. They were going to get along just fine. But she would have to earn her trust in time, and he likely hers, “Hey, hell no I won't. Especially if you're willing to pick some shit up for me when you go out. Or take me with you.†All that is empty in the drawing should be filled in, the teacher said to us kids. First you sharpen the pencil to fill in the thin whiskers, then you use the thick crayon to fill in the wings with brown, meticulously and without letting the crayon leave the page. Six feet can be traced below the soft belly. Now, breathing is hard to detect on paper, the teacher said to me when I asked, but it is easier to feel it in real life.
Even insects breathe. -Rawi Hage, Cockroach | ||||
Posted 06-18-2018, 01:27 AM |
PurpleBox
Ho! Miscreant!
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#41 | |||
“Women and men used to live together even if they were not family or married…. It’s not that strange… but I do get why they try to keep us separated to keep ratios able to be handed out without being too stretched. A lot of the kids in the city are orphans of people who come in form the outside…” Ian said, the couple on the main floor who housed many children where one of the few souple that actually could have kids… though the women was entering her waning years for childbearing they still opened their home to any children…. The military had put a cap on the amount they could have in their apartment… but Ian guessed that would change.
And he was right. Later that night when Ian had already gone into the tunnels Tristan grabbed his ratty blanket, the book Aren had given him and his apartment key, he left the apartment and made his way to Arens place… the number sticking out in his head, he knocked on the door… normally he wouldn't do this… but Tristan didn’t want to be alone again so soon….He may put on a good smile and bright personality… but the young blond was scared of being alone… losing both his father… and then his mother at young ages had taken its toll on the young boy with Ian going out so often. He’d never told Ian this though… as he knew his brother did what he did to provide for Tristan as best he could without relying on the military. A irritated girl answered the door. “Ah… Is… Aren home?” Tristan asked, the girl was taller than him by a bit but then again Tristan was underdeveloped for a 11 year old boy. -------------- Ian had ran into some trouble in the toy store… a runner, someone who had clearly fled the city last year had caught him off guard and now he was holding himself up on one of the still standing power line poles, those thick wooden things, he was lucky that runners were not smart… and the thing couldn't figure out how to get up to him…. It eventually lost interest but I stayed where he was, gripping tightly to the wooden pole, the toys safe in his bag and his pistol in his hand incase the thing came back…there was a bleeding cut on his leg now… the thing had scratched his leg in his climb up before he go too far for the things to jump. The ginger man shivered as a breeze blew by him, he was layered up sure… but it would be a long night in deed. | ||||
Posted 06-18-2018, 02:19 AM |
#42 |
sylvanSpider
Weaver of Webs
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The conversation between Aren and Takahata was strained at best when it didn't fall into utter silence. Aren knew from experience that sometimes it was easier for the past to die if it wasn't spoken of, and he wasn't in a position to ask her to confide in him. Not yet. She barely knew him; the chances of her opening up to him were slim to none, and he'd seen her type before. Hell, he'd been her type before – if he wasn't still. So, he opted to open his book again and prayed that she'd say something to start a conversation.
She proved to be as quiet as he was, and the imagined tension in the air was thick until there was a knock at the door. Aren almost jumped to his feet, wondering who it could be. Officers coming to tell them of the mistake? Maybe? But, he didn't get to his feet fast enough and Takahata answered the door. Takahata, used to looking up to most she came across, had her head tilted slightly up as she opened the door and she quickly adjusted her gaze so her brown eyes met Tristan's blue ones. She looked at him for a moment before stepping aside and gesturing into the apartment, “Yeah. He's here. Come on in.†By the point, the book was closed again, hardly a paragraph read (and the paragraph read not really taken in) and moved to the side. He got to his feet again, pleasantly surprised with their visitor, “Tristan? Hey, what's up little man?†He didn't ask where his brother was. If Tristan was here to hang out with Aren, it was likely Aren went out again. “Oh! Uhm, Tristan, this is Taka...Takahata?†he stopped here to confirm the pronunciation and proceeded when she nodded her confirmation, “My uhm, my new roommate. Takahata, this is Tristan, my friend and student. I give him reading lessons.†“You can call me Taka, if you want,†the small woman said, “It's what they used to call me. I'd answer to it and it's easier.†She shrugged and Aren nodded. “Deal. That's...ah, a bit easier,†Aren said nodding. “So Tristan, were you coming for lessons or to hang out? I'm fine with either.†All that is empty in the drawing should be filled in, the teacher said to us kids. First you sharpen the pencil to fill in the thin whiskers, then you use the thick crayon to fill in the wings with brown, meticulously and without letting the crayon leave the page. Six feet can be traced below the soft belly. Now, breathing is hard to detect on paper, the teacher said to me when I asked, but it is easier to feel it in real life.
Even insects breathe. -Rawi Hage, Cockroach | ||||
Posted 06-18-2018, 03:39 PM |
PurpleBox
Ho! Miscreant!
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#43 | |||
Tristan worried his lip, holding his ratty blanket closer to him… should he even be here….taking a breath he decided to speak. “I uh… didn’t want to spend another night alone in the apartment… Ian had a job that got called in last minute….” Tristan spoke carefully, the words he used make it seemed like he might have a job in the city that needed attending too.
“W-W-With the fire and all that happened today… I just… didn't want to be alone….”The young boy said pulling him blanket tighter around him… it would tug at anyone's heart strings. Tristan was at a odd age… there where not many 11-12 year old any more… there were really young kids under 10 and the teenagers….so it was safe to say that Tristan didn’t have a lot of friends his own age. Just his brother… and now Aren in a way. “I can leave if I’m being a bother… I got the key still.” He added quickly as if he expected to be turned away. ------------------- Ian was bone tired by the time he felt safe enough to find shelter for the night, his leg had long since gone cold and the bleeding had stoped, Ian looked paler than he normally did and the ginger scavenger knew that he would have to refuse a few jobs in the future… that would reflect badly on his reliability… now a days most people didn't care if you were hurt… if you couldn't help them then they would find someone else. Limping with every step Ian managed to get into the underground where he’d be safe, hidden under layers of dust and rot. He pressed his back against the cold wall as he slid down it. He’d sleep for now…. Get back to Tristan in the morning… and then sleep for a week….and like that Ian was out cold, gun still grasped in his hand as he slept. | ||||
Posted 06-18-2018, 11:56 PM |
#44 |
sylvanSpider
Weaver of Webs
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Aren's brow creased with worry. The night before, he'd been the reason Tristan was left behind in his apartment alone. “No, no, no. You're fine. Don't go back,†Aren said, his voice low with comfort, and placing a hand on his shoulder. “I know what it's like to have an empty apartment to return to and it sucks.†He looked back at the twin bed and knew that the other was going to be filled this evening, but it would work. They'd figure something out
Taka stood back, watching the conversation transpire. She didn't know the story as to how Aren managed to score a two-person rooming arrangement, but she assumed it had to do with a death so she asked no questtions. “He can sleep in my bed if he wants,†she offered, “I'm used to sleeping on the floor; I can go another night. No biggie.†Aren looked at his new roommate with a raised eyebrow, “You'd do that for someone you just barely met?†“Outs-- in ah, District 3, I lived with a large group of people. I got the floor usually. Besides, I'll be sleeping pretty well tonight, even if our sofa is a piece of shit,†Taka said with a shrug, “You're not a bother...Tristan...right?†Aren clapped his hands together and rubbed them, “Sounds to me like we've got ourselves a good old fashioned sleep over. Did you leave a note, Tris? Ian will be worried sick if he gets back from his job tomorrow and you're not there.†All that is empty in the drawing should be filled in, the teacher said to us kids. First you sharpen the pencil to fill in the thin whiskers, then you use the thick crayon to fill in the wings with brown, meticulously and without letting the crayon leave the page. Six feet can be traced below the soft belly. Now, breathing is hard to detect on paper, the teacher said to me when I asked, but it is easier to feel it in real life.
Even insects breathe. -Rawi Hage, Cockroach | ||||
Posted 06-19-2018, 12:32 AM |
PurpleBox
Ho! Miscreant!
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#45 | |||
Tristan caught the slip up from the women, Taka… but said nothing as he knew that many people used to be outside the walls…. “I sleep like the dead….only food or direct sun tends to wake me…” Tristan said once he was in the apartment. “I left him what i could write… doodled a few pictures to get the point across….” Tristan said with a mumble, he knew Ian couldn't read very well… heck Tristan could read better then his older brother at the moment… Ian always said he knew enough to recognize street names and things like that…
“Wha’s a sleepover?” Tristan asked sleepily, rubbing his eyes, still holding his blanket over his shoulders and around himself. “The last apartment they had ‘e and Ian in was shite…. It was basically one whole floor with no walls and packed with people… that was… two years ago before they ‘cleaned’ out this end of the district…. Yeah right more like Ian and his friends did that….” The tired blonde muttered the last few words to himself, it was clear he had forced himself to stay up longer then he was used to too come here. ------------- It was another night of vivid dreams and nightmares for Ian, when he woke up his watch was beeping softly, alerting him that it would soon be sunrise…. And his forehead felt feverish. “Did i breathe in spores? Must have…. Fuck….” Ian didn't think that the cut on his leg would be infected… but he was wrong… already it was looking raw and sore as he groaned, forcing himself to stand up… he wrapped it quickly with a spare cloth he had before heading down the rest of the tunnels. He passed a few other scavengers from his district like himself who just nodded in solidarity and he nodded back. None asked about his leg and Ian was thankful for that. He’d already breathed in a shit tons of spores before… doing jobs for Mavrik in his youth….it had gotten him in some interesting places at night… with light spores that had them all running fevers till their bodies fought off the spores… only one in that group had turned into a runner from the spores… and he had been ended quickly. | ||||
Posted 06-19-2018, 07:17 PM |
#46 |
sylvanSpider
Weaver of Webs
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If either of them caught Taka's slip up, they didn't say anything and Taka looked down, “I envy you. Sometimes it doesn't take anything to wake me up. But then, sleeping light has its benefits. Higher chance of survival, for instance.†With access to a bed, however, she didn't know if she'd keep that good habit. Then, the nightmares were a constant, so maybe she wouldn't lose it after all.
The corners of Aren's lips curled upwards ever so slightly and he shook his head, “I'm sure he'll understand, but Tristan, you know all of your letters. You proved that to me earlier when you were reading out loud. You read so fast you could barely keep up with yourself. That's not a sign of someone who can't read; it's a sign that you already know! Unless...Unless Ian can't read? You know I can teach him too...†He sat down on the sofa as Taka moved to sit down on one of the beds. “A sleepover is something that kids used to do before this world turned to shit,†Taka responded, not bothering the sugar coat the truth. The kid had to be what, ten? Eleven? He was old enough as far as she was concerned. It was likely he'd seen his own fair share of corpses; she knew she certainly had by his age, and what's a little swearing compared to that? “Basically, it's when you'd ask your parents to go to a friend's house and you'd stay up late telling stories, doing each other's hair, and makeovers and stuff like that. I don't know what boys do, but that's what my sister told me she used to do back in the day. Buuuut, you already look sleepy, mister. We should get some sleep.†> > > Taka slept fitfully, as the young woman had already come to expect. Expected also was the waking in a cold sweat gasping for air, which she did at some point before the sun's rays leaked between the tattered curtains. Then, a second wave of panic washed over her, unfamiliar silhouettes of unfamiliar furniture, unfamiliar beds with unfamiliar occupants filled her vision and she breathed, the day's past events surfacing in her memory once more and she relaxed, staring at the ceiling until sleep once again closed her eyes. All that is empty in the drawing should be filled in, the teacher said to us kids. First you sharpen the pencil to fill in the thin whiskers, then you use the thick crayon to fill in the wings with brown, meticulously and without letting the crayon leave the page. Six feet can be traced below the soft belly. Now, breathing is hard to detect on paper, the teacher said to me when I asked, but it is easier to feel it in real life.
Even insects breathe. -Rawi Hage, Cockroach | ||||
Posted 06-20-2018, 06:05 PM |
PurpleBox
Ho! Miscreant!
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#47 | |||
“Ian’s thrown me over his shoulder to bolt from a place many times…” Tristan yawned out rubbing his eyes again. He pouted a bit when Taka said they should sleep… but he knew the woman was right… they usually where… according to his brother… who had known more women then Tristan ever had… since not to long after they had gotten to this city the military had started to separate the genders to hopefully cut down on the amount of kids born… there were still lots needing to grow up so no new ones needed to be born.
“He doesn't like people to know he can’t really read… he know basic things… enough to not get lost in street names… Mama didn’t really have time to teach either of us before she died.” The young boy yawned again and blinked his sleepy blue eyes. Tristan was used to swearing… Ian had sworn up a storm after a really bad job once...Tristan found himself being lead to a bed and the small boy curled up in a small ball covered by his blanket, hugging the book to his chest in place of a stuffed friend. --------------------- Ian was bone tired as he approached his apartment, his leg throbbed and he had barely been able to pull himself up in the storage room. “Tris I’m ho-....Tris?” Tiered green eyes looked around the silent apartment, the paper on the counter where he normally put his bag stuck out so he went over to it, his heart calming once he saw it was Tristan’s squiggly letters… and a few pictures… of Aren and Tris with Z’s over their heads… had he gone over to Arens?... it made sense. “Sorry Pup….” Ian said, he knew his brother didn’t like to be left alone to man times in a row… if it was once a month for under a week it was fine...As always made sure to come back before the Check In’s…. But still.. Carefully taking off his backpack and placing it on the counter he rummaged around for some pain pills… he didn't want to go limping to get Tristan… he wanted to seam strong for his little brother. Little did Ian know that he wouldn't be going anywhere for a few good days… the cut on his leg was indeed infected…. Not with the fungus...but seeing as the cut had been from a very rusty and jagged piece of metal as he had been running… Swallowing the pill dry he moved to lock the apartment door behind him and lumber his way down to Aren’s apartment, the number still clearly in his head. Once in front of the door he knocked, it was firm but not forceful like most military knocks. ----------- Stray sunlight tickled Tristan’s face, in the back of his mind he heard someone knocking… it sounded familiar but he was too tired and comfy to wake up now. The small blond rolled over and hsi arm hugn off the bed, he was still tucked under his ratty blanket, the book still held close to his chest as the knocking continued at regular intervals. | ||||
Posted 06-20-2018, 07:02 PM |
#48 |
sylvanSpider
Weaver of Webs
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Aren, in direct contrast to Taka, slept well for a change. Sure, the nightmares never really left, but his body was rested when he woke the next morning and stretched. He was the first awake and he used the few moments of solitude as a chance to change into his normal clothes. Tristan lay asleep where he was, the sun not yet telling him it was time to wake, and Taka lay sprawled on the couch, the look on her face showing that she was as haunted as her new friends. Maybe more, but who knew? Her story was one that had yet to be told, and he wasn't sure he'd ever hear it.
The knock at the door was almost expected, and Aren got up to answer it as sunlight began to spill into the one room apartment. His face brightened seeing Ian, but his joy soon disappeared behind a worried brow crease and he leaned forward and whispered, “You're hurt, aren't you?†Aren nodded back into the apartment and stepped from the doorway to let his guide through, “If you came looking for Tris, he's here and safe. No worries. But...he mentioned that you can't really read either. Do you want lessons too?†His voice was low, trying to not wake the others, but comforting. He wasn't trying to call Ian out; he just wanted to give Ian the same opportunities he was giving his younger brother. “We don't have to if you don't wanna, but the offer stands.†The sound of voices woke Taka and she sat up slowly, seeing a ginger in the doorway and rubbed her eyes. This must be the infamous brother that she'd heard so much about. Instead of getting up to greet him right away though, she gave her eyes an extra rub if only to wake up a little more before meeting someone new. All that is empty in the drawing should be filled in, the teacher said to us kids. First you sharpen the pencil to fill in the thin whiskers, then you use the thick crayon to fill in the wings with brown, meticulously and without letting the crayon leave the page. Six feet can be traced below the soft belly. Now, breathing is hard to detect on paper, the teacher said to me when I asked, but it is easier to feel it in real life.
Even insects breathe. -Rawi Hage, Cockroach | ||||
Posted 06-21-2018, 05:19 PM |
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