Benign -
"No! I--uh--I mean...Don' go to bed yet, Brooke...I mean, it's--uh, it--looks like it's too early, and, I...um...Dad and Pop just fell asleep...and...um..." I looked down shyly, all nerve I thought I had blowing away in the chilly, midsummer wind. I risked a glance up at my older companion's eyes. She was watching me expectantly, something between amusement and endearment in her deep-set eyes. "I...uh, just like talking to you is all..."
Uh, shit. Way to go, me. Now she thinks you're, like...a freak or something. Or at least terribly, socially awkward. And that is so much worse.
A few weeks ago, Dad and Pop had decided to leave the farm, my only home. Brooke had come along, which only seemed natural. I'd known her for years. She was he closest friend I'd ever had, and I missed talking to her.
I looked up when I heard something like a light chuckle. The corners of her mouth were lifted ever so slightly; very encouraging, I knew, so I chanced an awkward grin, very much like my Poppa's. "So, yeah." I finished lamely.
Che. For a fifteen year-old, my social skills were kind-of lacking.
Brooke was half-smiling now, though, so I grinned wider when she conceded, "Alright, then, Benign. What do you wan to talk about?"
"Anything." I blurted, more than willing to converse for as long as Brooklyn would play along. My lack of hesitation was enough to make me flush and approach the subject more calmly. "I-um-mean...hah, well, no: anything. The moon, you, he trip, why we left...Haha, um, ah, well, I, uh, really do mean...uh, anything." I stammered out, cursing my lack of articulation. Good eye, me. She wont find you unintelligent at all.
Brooklyn, to my great relief, moved on as though I'd given a sufficient answer. "Oh? Well...where to start? Hm, the moon is full, as you may have noticed, it's quite bright out here--and myself...well, what is there to talk about?" she chuckled dryly, so unaware of how much I looked up to her, how much there was to talk about.
She continued, fixedly, "I think this is the...hm, fifth week we've been on the road, so to speak? About a month, and we've run into only one halfer. I know you don' really get it yet, bu a few ears ago...when you were about four, probably--you couldn't walk two feet without running into one pack of halflings or another. It's...weird. Really odd." It took a minute for Brooklyn o find her way out of her own thoughts, bu I was patient, and she snapped o attention with, "And you...we left because...ah, you could call it controversy, perhaps. Racism? Maybe. German is insecure." her voice was stiff, as it got when she was uncomfortable. "And Calamari was willing to make sacrifices for him. For you, and for the little family you all have made out of this." She finished, looking tired.
My next words leaped from my lips before asking permission, "Our family." I blushed as she looked taken aback, and moved on quickly, "I mean...you're just as much a part as everyone a the...'farm' was...Idunnoprollymore." M face was beet red, neon in the light of an unforgiving full moon. "Okay. Well. Um. Bed. Night." I stuttered out awkwardly, shrinking into a mouse and scurrying to a comfortable-looking tuft of grass.
"...Night, Benign." And I prayed to a god I didn't really believe in that I wasn't imagining the smile in her voice.
--
Continue? xD
Ennis -
Dark times lead t' dark choices.
Yer hair is gettin' longer an' longer--ratty 's it's e'er been in'na past ten years. Ya ne'er would let me get near ya with a hairbrush, bu' t'night's dif'rent, ain't it?
I know yer awake. Bu', as I drag one'a our fringe'd, dirty combs through yer too-long, too-dirty hair (brown fer th' moment, an; meebe e'en fer th' day)--tryin' hard not t' pull it an' 'wake' ya--I don' really care.
T'night's dif'rent.
Ya miss 'im. Yer best friend. Th' one who made it in. Ten years t'night, is'nit, Kai? I know 'how 'ard i' is t' lose people ya love. I know 'ow 'ard i' is t' watch'em mourn o'er past loves, too, though.
I sen' Benny t' bed early. She's gon' tell Brooklyn I'm punishin' 'er--Brooklyn ne'er liked me much, anyway, ya know--an' Imma get an earful in th' mornin'.
Yer gon' try t' stick up fer me, but Imma lose 'nyway, 'cos I'm human, an' tha's wha' humans do.
I don' care. It's enough t' give ya m'cheap, pseudo comfort as I try t' live up t' the hellhole Pierce left in yer heart.
Was he jus' yer pal, Kai? Was 'e really?
I'll pr'tend 'e wasn't more, Kai. I kin swallow m'own lies bet'er n'I kin take yers.
Ma use t' tell me, Kai. Dark times lead t' dark choices.
I di'n't know th' ol' bat knew wha' she was talkin' 'bout.
Ha.
Yer hair's lookin' a li'l be'er--beginnin' t' resemble th' silky, straight curtain ya used t' 'ave, in th' stead o' yer developing dreadlocks.
Sumtimes, people ask'd 'ow life was.
I ne'er got t' answer tha' question. Kai would step in wi' 'is generic, over-enthusiastic assurance o' perfection we di'n't 'ave.
I wanted happiness for m' baby 'nd Kai.
M'baby wasn' a baby n'ymore, a'course. A teen...che. Ne'er though' I'd see'a day when I'd be a dad a'all, obviously.
She hates me, o' course.
Wha'cha gon' do?
'Nymore, no 'good' 'alfer likes humans. Kin ya blame 'em? M'a li'l glad Benny knows enough t' draw lines like tha'. She'll do fine wi' th' others, long's she knows which side she's on.
It's not my side, tha's fer sure.
No one likes a traitor t' their own race.
I looked up a'th' sky. Look'd like i'was 'bout mornin'. Kai's 'air wa' beginnin' t' look less like a nest an' more like 'air, so tha' was good; e'en if'e still wasn' sleepin'.
There wassa bit o' a rustle outside th' window in our big house, full'a countless 'alfers o' dif'rent shapes an' sizes--all brought 'ere in disgust o' m' own species.
I sigh'd. "Tha' you, Brooklyn?"
There wa' a'minnit o' silence b'fore th' girl wi' long, white 'air, yellow highlights, black spots an' all. She looked a'me, an' then a'Kai, 'sleepin'' in m'lap, an I look'd t'th' sky, sigh'n again.
I di'n' wanna meet 'er eyes.
I di'n't like t' meet any 'alfer's eyes, after all.
"Mornin', Brooke. Now'sa bit'tuva bad time. Kai gettin' sum shuteye an' all." I threw on m'usual goofy grin. I wa' used t' it, y'know? Fer nine years now, I'd been used t' it.
There wasa minnit o' silence, an' I almost though' she left. Almost.
"Where's Benign?" Yup. This wa' where our conversations usually went, if Kai was out.
"Bed. Obviously. It's dawn; I don' care wha' day it is--can't let'er stay up too late. Imma good dad, y'see?"
"Mhm."
I look'd back down t' Kai as 'is eyebrows furrowed in dismay.
Why're ya surprised, Kai?
I'm not th' one they wanna talk t'.
Th' silence drug itself on fer too long. I woulda sed sumthin', usually. Bu' fer sum reason, I couldn'. Not t'night.
M' mind wandered to Brooklyn. A traveler. Like we used t' be, Kai n' I.
I wa' overcome wit' wha' musta been jealousy 'o tha' life. M' mouth moved wi'out m' mind's permission.
I laugh'd dryly.
"I dunno 'f I kin take this." I breathed. "This...isn't m' story. I'm notta halfer. I'm'n enemy. Haha. I dunno if I kin take 'nother year o' watchin' ya fall apart o'er yer...yer ol' best friend. An' our daughter...Benny blames me fer th' world she 'as t' live in, Kai, m'daughter hates me. Ha. Thisis jus'...so funny t' me, Kai." As I spoke, I lift'd 'is 'ead from m' lap wit' dif'cult gentleness, watchin' 'is expression twist 's 'e tried t' decide whether t' keep feignin' sleep 'r get up an' talk me through this. It might'a been th' last straw, really. Choosin' t' lie an' save face o'er me, in th' end.
I laugh'd again, standin' up. Wow. This wasit, huh? I was givin' up. "Thisis yer show, Kai. Play th' hero. Find yer buddy. Betcha 'e's been lookin' fer ya all along. Me, I'm gone. I give up. I can't be look'd at like...like I'm human, e'ery time I walk out th' room. I can't stand our li'l girl...lookin' at me like m' scum. I can't do it, Kai, I can't...sit 'ere an' watch ya...jus'..." I made a low, derisive noise in th' back o' m' throat, "Fake sleep while I up an' go. I hope ya find happiness in Pierce. I obviously couldn't 'old it fer ya." It was th' mild-mannered equivalent o' throwin' up m' hands n' screamin' at th' top'a m' lungs.
Brooklyn still wasn't speakin', Kai was jumpin' up, an' I was stormin' out th' room. Why 'ad I stayed fer so long? Ten years.
Wasted onna dream tha' I wasn't e'en welcome in.
Gods.
Kai wa' finally talkin' t' me now, tellin' me not t' go, not t' leave 'im...I couldn' be serious, righ'? I was Ennis. I was th' stray.
'E was kinda right. I di'n' wanna leave.
"I can't stay 'ere, Kai." I stop'd dead in'th' halls, watchin' sleepy halfers poke their heads out their doors, wonderin' wha' th' problem was.
"Don't, then." Kai blurted out too quickly, catchin' up at last. 'Is words were jumbled an' shakin'. "I'll come with you. We'll take Benny, we'll go, Ennis. Right now, just us. If it makes you happy, anything, En, really, please, don't go, not tonight, En, gods, please."
Welp.
Tha' wasa bit easier than expect'd.
"...Really?"
"Really."
"Serious?"
"Serious."
"Mhm?"
"Mhm."
"I love ya?"
"I love y--" There wasa long pause before I felt two arms wrap 'round m' shoulders, an' a strain'd voice repeat, "I love you. I'll find another owner and we'll leave, if you were truly serious. We can pack up and be gone within a week."
Any other night, I might'a argue'd. Told 'im 'e di'n' 'ave t' do tha'., Sed I 'ad overreact'd, an' I was fine 'ere.
Bu', this wasn't a normal night.
T'night was dif'rent.
--
AUGSHFGhdsgh
That took forever to write. :w;
I thought I'd tell you how my other OCS were doinnnn' <3
Omnom.
I'm sleepy.
Benign -
There was a lot I didn't...a lot I couldn't know.
I understood that now.
I hate, hate, hated it, but I understood.
My mouth was shut in a tight, cold line as I watched dark, heavy clouds make their way over the moon, devouring the last of the light for the night. I looked down at my miniscule feet, scratching the fur between my eyes with my right paw. I made a quiet grumbling noise before settling in more snugly in the too-bright orange locks on Poppa's head.
I was unspeakably glad I was a mouse right now.
Pop always had a way of sensing when I was awake when I was in...in 'human' form, and the look on my face would give me away. I knew it.
I looked over to Dad, whose long, thin arm was draped over his eyes; his hair disorderly and tangled, covering the ground surrounding his head like a thin, poorly-sewn cloth.
Dad's hair was fading in and out between silver and brown--a sure sign he was dreaming, and dreaming of his past.
Neither Dad, nor Pop spoke about their pasts, but sometimes I'd heard Dad talking in his sleep, jabbering off in German--Pop told me once he'd been...Pop always stuttered as he said the word 'imprisoned', so it was a little hard to understand, but I knew. Dad had been sent to Germany for experiments.
Dad sometimes let me listen to some of the music when we would visit town. The music he had smuggled into where he was kept: German rock bands. Oomph! was my favorite, but Dad preferred Rammstein. I never liked the synthetic sound they had, though. Dad would just laugh.
Laugh...The crickets resounded happily into the night as I squeaked, jumping as Pop shifted in his sleep. I paused, waiting for his breathing to even out again before shifting.
I didn't dare look behind myself and into the abyss that used to be a forest. I didn't want to see the silhouettes of trees change to silhouettes of demons. But not monstrous demons, no. Not demons with horns and eight eyes and claws. I didn't mind those. I liked them.
But the...the 'Human' demons, with their evil stares, and their muttered insults under their hypocritical breaths.
I learned about them recently. I learned that...there was more to the world than just 'people'.
The ones with two legs, and two arms, and an oddly long body...People like Pop...they were called 'human'.
Everything else was 'animal'.
I shuddered, looking down at Pop's face. He was sleeping...so peacefully...I felt a surge of annoyance.
Who was he, the polar opposite of Dad, to sleep soundly while Dad was suffering? He, the human, the cause of all our worries, the reason I was orphaned and ended up at the Farm to begin with.
He was the reason there was a Halfer-Farm to begin with.
The reason we all had to be 'owned' and branded.
I looked between my fathers. I knew I was being unfair. I didn't care. Pop's hair grew a lot faster than Dad's and it was nearly to his chin, now--a miniscule amount compared to Dad's Rapunzel-worthy hair. Pop was the short, muscle to Dad's tall, lean physique. Pop was the insane pale to Dad's pleasant mocha color. Pop was the shock of orange in Dad's calm silver. Pop was the joke, and Dad was the conversation.
An owl hooted from somewhere behind me and I jumped again, shaking with instinctual fear of the predator mixed with my newly discovered dislike of the dark.
I immediately felt less angry at Pop, than I felt young, and scared, and angry at Dad and Pop's blatant withholding of information.
I wished Dad was awake. I wished he was up and could hold me and tell me stories about his old best friends and the adventures he and Pop had when they were a member of a strange group.
I couldn't let Pop know, though.
I didn't want him to see me as a little kid that needed to be taken care of. I didn't want him to worry about me; to see me as less than what I'd tried so hard to be in his eyes.
I had to be an angry, head-strong, brat that jumped head-first into
things without considering things like fear.
We were all liars, in our own ways.
It was disgusting.
But we were okay.
-
Welllp.
Dassabout it. :P
