Mire was prepared for anger. Anger and grief were bed fellows. Add to the mix that the only times they'd interacted he tended to be an emotional bag of worms. The latter comment made her purse her lips in an effort to keep from laughing. Now was not a good time to laugh. Even she knew that.
“They believe it. I can see it in their eyes. They believe that crap they spew in their attempt to make a hero out of a man. They- they...” Mire started to protest. Hadn't she said MOSTLY? But, Azuel was on a rant... she shut her mouth and let him go on.
“There I go again! How do you do this to me?”
"I..." Mire opened her mouth to say 'I don't know', but Azuel's finger was in her face.
“You haven’t changed in these two years. You are dead to politics, dead to reason, and dead to my...”
Errrr. "I.."
“You see? I can’t stop myself when I get here. I can’t be allowed to feel. I need to be better than that, than this! I can’t act on these, these... damnable emotions!”
"Um..."
“We’re done here.”
“Can’t...”
Azuel was staring at her, a challenge if ever there was one. People were staring at them. Mire nodded slowly, in a yes motion. Her words were the opposite, though.
"No. We aren't."
With that she grabbed his wrist in the vise like grip of a guardsman hauling in a criminal and began walking. He could balk, of course, but Mire hoped he wouldn't. She moved to march them the one block to the tiny apartment she'd let, to march them up the three flights of stairs, to attempt to unlock the door and shove him inside. Assuming, of course, he let her...
Him and his public rants!
The New Recruit
Re: The New Recruit
A story is like a tapestry; it is never finished until the final thread is sewn.
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Azuel Vyaduka
- Guardsman
- Posts: 146
- Joined: Sun Jun 02, 2013 11:07 pm
- Name: Azuel Vyaduka
- Race: Human
Re: The New Recruit
When her hand clamped down upon his wrist, Azuel’s dour pout rapidly turned to naked fear. Her grip possessed considerable strength, and Azuel was not often put in a position to be physically overpowered. It evoked a primal fear which brought Azuel’s determined last stand of hate to a crashing halt. Besides which, there was something to be said for what remained of his pride!
He didn’t have much time to dwell on it, as he was abruptly yanked to the side. “What are you, hey, don’t,” He stammered incoherently. His thoughts didn’t seem to be working properly at the moment, besides informing him that he should be mortified by this state of affairs.
Perhaps it was the remnants of his upbringing, always being told what he couldn’t do. Being seen getting dragged around by an elf, and after getting into an argument with her at that, was not a good way to maintain a reputation. Yet despite knowing all the reasons he should rip his wrist from her grasp, he found himself not doing so. What was so special about her that he seemed to lose all self control in her presence? How was she doing this?
Azuel fell into an obstinate silence. He might not be able to flee, but he refused to dignify the situation with conversation. Or inelegant blubbering, or whatever embarrassing noises would escape his mouth if he tried talking. He managed to salvage some pride by choosing to match her pace, rather than continue to be dragged.
They arrived at the destination soon enough. She brought him up flights of stairs. Between all the running and shouting, Azuel was noticeably out of breath. When she stopped to open the door, his hands fell to his knees and he panted softly. His eyes were fixed on the floor.
He didn’t see her reach back and grab him again. He became frustrated and was about to demand his release, but then she shoved him through the door. He stumbled through it, his arms spread slightly to regain his balance. He didn’t stand completely when she walked in after him, instead remaining hunched like a cornered animal. His eyes narrowed accusatorily. There was something about the situation he did not understand. He was weak an ignorant, he knew it with every thought and hated it. With venom in his voice, he interrogated her.
“What is it you want from me?”
He didn’t have much time to dwell on it, as he was abruptly yanked to the side. “What are you, hey, don’t,” He stammered incoherently. His thoughts didn’t seem to be working properly at the moment, besides informing him that he should be mortified by this state of affairs.
Perhaps it was the remnants of his upbringing, always being told what he couldn’t do. Being seen getting dragged around by an elf, and after getting into an argument with her at that, was not a good way to maintain a reputation. Yet despite knowing all the reasons he should rip his wrist from her grasp, he found himself not doing so. What was so special about her that he seemed to lose all self control in her presence? How was she doing this?
Azuel fell into an obstinate silence. He might not be able to flee, but he refused to dignify the situation with conversation. Or inelegant blubbering, or whatever embarrassing noises would escape his mouth if he tried talking. He managed to salvage some pride by choosing to match her pace, rather than continue to be dragged.
They arrived at the destination soon enough. She brought him up flights of stairs. Between all the running and shouting, Azuel was noticeably out of breath. When she stopped to open the door, his hands fell to his knees and he panted softly. His eyes were fixed on the floor.
He didn’t see her reach back and grab him again. He became frustrated and was about to demand his release, but then she shoved him through the door. He stumbled through it, his arms spread slightly to regain his balance. He didn’t stand completely when she walked in after him, instead remaining hunched like a cornered animal. His eyes narrowed accusatorily. There was something about the situation he did not understand. He was weak an ignorant, he knew it with every thought and hated it. With venom in his voice, he interrogated her.
“What is it you want from me?”
Re: The New Recruit
The apartment was small. Small enough to not even be an apartment. It was more like an efficiency studio, but Mire was proud of it. She had been born to two guardsmen, orphaned at a very young age, and had grown up with nothing. Any survivor's benefits she'd received supposedly wasn't enough to cover the cost of her board in the orphanage. She had been pulled from school after third grade because she was capable, strong, and mature enough to help take care of the younger children.
When she shoved Azuel through the door, it placed him squarely within her living space. Not far from his back was her bed. To his left was a small table with two chairs. A little past the bed sat a small two person sofa. Beyond that was the kitchen, neatly separated by the living area by a bookshelf. From the kitchen were two doors on the left: the closet and the bathroom. A single window was on the wall of the kitchen. The blind was up and a little flower box adorned the window sill, filled with a variety of food herbs.
Speaking of bookshelves, there were several and they were filled with books. The books showed an academic bent one might not expect from someone in her circumstances, but many years ago someone had introduced her to books and fostered a love of books and learning. Mire had spent her time out of school teaching herself and had eventually completed University.
The environs were neat, tidy, and although sparse, had a simple elegance to them. Blocks of fabric were used like paintings to add color accents to the room. The bedding was utilitarian, but intimated femininity. On the bed, against the pillows, lay a doll. The doll apparently had been with Mire for a very, very long time if its state was any indication. It was a natty, old rag doll that had obviously been repaired more than once and was obviously cherished.
“What is it you want from me?”
Mire slid the bow and quiver from her shoulders and placed them to the side of the door, propped against the wall. She slipped off her shoes, too, and placed them near the door. A habit, to keep the floor cleaner. Mire leaned against the door. Her hands were behind her and she rested her butt on them. It was an open posture, despite the fact that she blocked the door. She just looked at Azuel, trying to reconcile what was in her head with what she saw now. Mire's gaze dragged over him and his defensive posture. This time, they were not in armor. Her clothes were form fitting, but only exposed the skin of her arms, some of her collarbone and the line of her neck.
"What happened to you?" The question was spoken softly, quizzically.
When she shoved Azuel through the door, it placed him squarely within her living space. Not far from his back was her bed. To his left was a small table with two chairs. A little past the bed sat a small two person sofa. Beyond that was the kitchen, neatly separated by the living area by a bookshelf. From the kitchen were two doors on the left: the closet and the bathroom. A single window was on the wall of the kitchen. The blind was up and a little flower box adorned the window sill, filled with a variety of food herbs.
Speaking of bookshelves, there were several and they were filled with books. The books showed an academic bent one might not expect from someone in her circumstances, but many years ago someone had introduced her to books and fostered a love of books and learning. Mire had spent her time out of school teaching herself and had eventually completed University.
The environs were neat, tidy, and although sparse, had a simple elegance to them. Blocks of fabric were used like paintings to add color accents to the room. The bedding was utilitarian, but intimated femininity. On the bed, against the pillows, lay a doll. The doll apparently had been with Mire for a very, very long time if its state was any indication. It was a natty, old rag doll that had obviously been repaired more than once and was obviously cherished.
“What is it you want from me?”
Mire slid the bow and quiver from her shoulders and placed them to the side of the door, propped against the wall. She slipped off her shoes, too, and placed them near the door. A habit, to keep the floor cleaner. Mire leaned against the door. Her hands were behind her and she rested her butt on them. It was an open posture, despite the fact that she blocked the door. She just looked at Azuel, trying to reconcile what was in her head with what she saw now. Mire's gaze dragged over him and his defensive posture. This time, they were not in armor. Her clothes were form fitting, but only exposed the skin of her arms, some of her collarbone and the line of her neck.
"What happened to you?" The question was spoken softly, quizzically.
A story is like a tapestry; it is never finished until the final thread is sewn.
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Azuel Vyaduka
- Guardsman
- Posts: 146
- Joined: Sun Jun 02, 2013 11:07 pm
- Name: Azuel Vyaduka
- Race: Human
Re: The New Recruit
“Enough!” He said, voice raised and tossing his palm to the side in a gesture of dismissal. He winced at his own volume, recalling that yelling was what had gotten him this far. It was clear to him that she had some sort of agenda that he was not understanding. He took a deep breath, attempting to dispel the last of his exhaustion. “Don’t you get anything about the upper classes? This must have looked ridiculous to anyone watching! And you’ve jeopardized both our positions! No cover is perfect; people still have memories of all the original documents. I know that, I practically had to pull your report out of the clerk’s hands!” In his fury, he did not realize what he had just admitted to. “If people think we know each other well, that just gives them more incentive to look for links, and...” He swung his arms to and from his head in short, frantic motions before recovering his voice. “And why would you even...”
“What happened to you?"
Azuel bared his teeth, but deigned to answer her question “What happened?” He stopped for a breath, leaning against the wall beside the bed for support. With Elemire so consuming his focus he had not yet granted any thought to his surroundings. Instead, he stared her right in the eyes as soon as he recovered. “I had to endure two years of my own grandfather’s disappointment because of that catastrophe, and then after growing to hate a man I loved, he went and died. I think I have a right to be angry when...”
Her expression was changing rapidly. Azuel’s brow rose with surprise while his mouth hung open as if the next word to leave his mouth had become stuck halfway out. What had he done this time? She looked almost confused.
Azuel wondered if he was missing something in the background. He looked around, turning his body to peer behind him, and for the first time realized she must have brought him to her home. Azuel took a step backwards, which nearly caused him to bump into her. He took and abrupt two steps forwards, his feet moving quickly in haste. His head flew wildly around, taking in everything.
There were books. He stared at those first. He recognized several, which surprised him greatly. He would not have assumed her to have literary interest at all, much less interests which aligned with his own. Next his gaze rode along the walls, examining the frivolous decorations. They meant nothing to him, and he moved on quickly to drop his gaze to her bed. He was struck by a sudden image of the two of them on the bed. He twisted his leg slightly and curled his toes in extreme discomfort as his mind frantically sought to take any sort of escape route it could find.
It finally chose the doll as this exit, fortunately before Azuel could become too aware of the imagery. His gaze remained steady on the doll, for it evoked a multitude of feelings. He blinked. It was like Elemire herself in that regard. Certainly he had never played with dolls, and Latifa had never been overly fond of them either. Besides, this old thing was ratty and kept beyond its years.
His jaw slowly widened, and a slight, low breath escaped from between the small crevice that had opened between his lips. “W-wha...” He turned to look at her, his eyes narrowing. There was something here, something about this doll, which made him think it was familiar. She suddenly felt familiar.
Azuel’s legs wobbled like he was about to collapse. He suddenly felt weak and tired, and desired nothing so much as to take a seat. Unfortunately, he tended to fall back to his basics in times of stress, and now his lingering sense of upper class manners compelled him to remain standing until the host sat, they ordered him to hold what little remained of his composure. His pressed his left hand gently to his forehead.
“Teodinus,” He breathed, the name feeling natural and reassuring as it escaped his lungs. He looked straight at Elemire, “You are...” he managed to gasp out before losing the will to continue. He got the feeling she would know what he meant.
“What happened to you?"
Azuel bared his teeth, but deigned to answer her question “What happened?” He stopped for a breath, leaning against the wall beside the bed for support. With Elemire so consuming his focus he had not yet granted any thought to his surroundings. Instead, he stared her right in the eyes as soon as he recovered. “I had to endure two years of my own grandfather’s disappointment because of that catastrophe, and then after growing to hate a man I loved, he went and died. I think I have a right to be angry when...”
Her expression was changing rapidly. Azuel’s brow rose with surprise while his mouth hung open as if the next word to leave his mouth had become stuck halfway out. What had he done this time? She looked almost confused.
Azuel wondered if he was missing something in the background. He looked around, turning his body to peer behind him, and for the first time realized she must have brought him to her home. Azuel took a step backwards, which nearly caused him to bump into her. He took and abrupt two steps forwards, his feet moving quickly in haste. His head flew wildly around, taking in everything.
There were books. He stared at those first. He recognized several, which surprised him greatly. He would not have assumed her to have literary interest at all, much less interests which aligned with his own. Next his gaze rode along the walls, examining the frivolous decorations. They meant nothing to him, and he moved on quickly to drop his gaze to her bed. He was struck by a sudden image of the two of them on the bed. He twisted his leg slightly and curled his toes in extreme discomfort as his mind frantically sought to take any sort of escape route it could find.
It finally chose the doll as this exit, fortunately before Azuel could become too aware of the imagery. His gaze remained steady on the doll, for it evoked a multitude of feelings. He blinked. It was like Elemire herself in that regard. Certainly he had never played with dolls, and Latifa had never been overly fond of them either. Besides, this old thing was ratty and kept beyond its years.
His jaw slowly widened, and a slight, low breath escaped from between the small crevice that had opened between his lips. “W-wha...” He turned to look at her, his eyes narrowing. There was something here, something about this doll, which made him think it was familiar. She suddenly felt familiar.
Azuel’s legs wobbled like he was about to collapse. He suddenly felt weak and tired, and desired nothing so much as to take a seat. Unfortunately, he tended to fall back to his basics in times of stress, and now his lingering sense of upper class manners compelled him to remain standing until the host sat, they ordered him to hold what little remained of his composure. His pressed his left hand gently to his forehead.
“Teodinus,” He breathed, the name feeling natural and reassuring as it escaped his lungs. He looked straight at Elemire, “You are...” he managed to gasp out before losing the will to continue. He got the feeling she would know what he meant.
Last edited by Azuel Vyaduka on Sat Apr 26, 2014 5:29 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Re: The New Recruit
The confused look morphed as she lifted her right hand to cover her mouth, fingers turned inwards against her lips. Sadness for his loss and the resulting anger and hate made fat tears well in her eyes and slowly roll down her cheeks. She didn't make a sound or contort her features. She'd learned a long time ago to cry quietly or suffer consequences.
Mire resolutely wiped the tears away with the palm of her hand. She moved toward him and leaned over to catch up the doll in her hand, before sitting on the edge of the bed. Doll clutched to her chest, she looked up at him, and brushed away a few more that threatened to fall. She tried to smile and was only a little successful.
"Stupid, ugly thing isn't it?"
Mire sighed. "I still don't understand how you could have changed so much. What happened to you?"
Mire resolutely wiped the tears away with the palm of her hand. She moved toward him and leaned over to catch up the doll in her hand, before sitting on the edge of the bed. Doll clutched to her chest, she looked up at him, and brushed away a few more that threatened to fall. She tried to smile and was only a little successful.
"Stupid, ugly thing isn't it?"
Mire sighed. "I still don't understand how you could have changed so much. What happened to you?"
A story is like a tapestry; it is never finished until the final thread is sewn.
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Azuel Vyaduka
- Guardsman
- Posts: 146
- Joined: Sun Jun 02, 2013 11:07 pm
- Name: Azuel Vyaduka
- Race: Human
Re: The New Recruit
Azuel recognized her. She was a little girl whose doll he had picked up after she’d dropped it. She was the child who, then only a child himself, he had helped with her schoolwork. He hadn’t considered it noteworthy at the time. Truth be told, he had done similar deeds for others. Looking back, he realized he must have spent more time with her than he had ever realized. He recalled with sudden clarity a pair of occasions when his older brother had been forced to drag him from the school.
He also recognized her current state: that of the silent cry. He didn’t always succeed at keeping it quiet, but whenever the stresses of life had become too much for him to bear he had wished that none in his family should know. They could not be allowed to see you cry; that would betray your weakness and only continue your suffering. Sympathy welled up within his chest with enough intensity to bring tears to his own eyes. He wanted to comfort her and assure her he understood, but he couldn’t bring himself to say the words. He was scared.
Maybe he could manage to reassure her without words. Though his anxiety was palpable, he took a couple steps up to the side of the bed. He hesitated, his motion a short stagger, clearly needing to force himself to sit down beside her. His choice might have gone otherwise if he had been more certain of his ability to remain standing. It felt as if his bones might suddenly turn to water.
“I don’t...” He just... reacted poorly to elves. He didn’t know why. He drew his hips backwards a bit and pushed himself downwards, employing the bed’s soft mattress for all it was worth. His voice was barely a whisper and his hands were clamped over his mouth, but he made certain she could hear him. “I don’t know. I’m so sorry.”
Why was it that as he said those words, he felt like he had failed?
He also recognized her current state: that of the silent cry. He didn’t always succeed at keeping it quiet, but whenever the stresses of life had become too much for him to bear he had wished that none in his family should know. They could not be allowed to see you cry; that would betray your weakness and only continue your suffering. Sympathy welled up within his chest with enough intensity to bring tears to his own eyes. He wanted to comfort her and assure her he understood, but he couldn’t bring himself to say the words. He was scared.
Maybe he could manage to reassure her without words. Though his anxiety was palpable, he took a couple steps up to the side of the bed. He hesitated, his motion a short stagger, clearly needing to force himself to sit down beside her. His choice might have gone otherwise if he had been more certain of his ability to remain standing. It felt as if his bones might suddenly turn to water.
“I don’t...” He just... reacted poorly to elves. He didn’t know why. He drew his hips backwards a bit and pushed himself downwards, employing the bed’s soft mattress for all it was worth. His voice was barely a whisper and his hands were clamped over his mouth, but he made certain she could hear him. “I don’t know. I’m so sorry.”
Why was it that as he said those words, he felt like he had failed?
Re: The New Recruit
The bed shifted under his weight. Mire looked away from him and instead focused on the doll, plucking at this and that as if it could be made to look more tidy.
Mire turned a little and placed the doll back in its place. She resumed her prior position, clasping her hands in her lap. She bowed her head as she shook it in negation.
"No, it's my fault. I should have realized you would change. It was a long time ago, right? 15? 17 years? It's just when I found out you were in the guard, I thought maybe, just maybe we could become friends like we used to be. Maybe we could talk about books and what happened on our patrols. I requested you as my partner and now look at all that's happened."
She sighed. "I didn't know you'd pulled the report. I guess that's why my punishment wasn't as severe as it could have been. I mean, the last guard to assault a Descendant is still in prison. I thanked you for it already, but I'll say it again. Thank you. You protected me again." She wrung her hands a little, twisting them in an effort to keep from touching him.
"As for why i dragged you here, it's because you went off on a rant about your grandfather and it wouldn't do for others to hear you." She paused. "And, I wanted to actually talk to you. Some place... safe. I should have thought about the way it looked." She turned toward him. Her right knee brushed his left knee. She was very aware of the contact, as if her knee was on fire.
"I was just being stupid. Again. I don't know what changed. Why you hate elves so much. You didn't used to. It hurts, but I guess I'll just have to accept it. I wish I weren't one, but I am and I can't change that. Childhood dreams should just stay in childhood."
Mire's mouth twisted a little as she tried to think about something to change the subject. She didn't want to give up, really. She knew if she let him go now, that would be the end of it. She cast her gaze around the room, then back to him. Ummmmm....
"The beard's nice, by the way. It really suits you. I like it." Mire tossed her hands up a little and looked away, presenting him the profile of her face. She didn't turn her body, though. "Not that that matters." Her right hand fell on the bed between them. Her left, on the bed beside her.
"If you want to go, I understand." Her eyes burned. Damn it all!
Mire turned a little and placed the doll back in its place. She resumed her prior position, clasping her hands in her lap. She bowed her head as she shook it in negation.
"No, it's my fault. I should have realized you would change. It was a long time ago, right? 15? 17 years? It's just when I found out you were in the guard, I thought maybe, just maybe we could become friends like we used to be. Maybe we could talk about books and what happened on our patrols. I requested you as my partner and now look at all that's happened."
She sighed. "I didn't know you'd pulled the report. I guess that's why my punishment wasn't as severe as it could have been. I mean, the last guard to assault a Descendant is still in prison. I thanked you for it already, but I'll say it again. Thank you. You protected me again." She wrung her hands a little, twisting them in an effort to keep from touching him.
"As for why i dragged you here, it's because you went off on a rant about your grandfather and it wouldn't do for others to hear you." She paused. "And, I wanted to actually talk to you. Some place... safe. I should have thought about the way it looked." She turned toward him. Her right knee brushed his left knee. She was very aware of the contact, as if her knee was on fire.
"I was just being stupid. Again. I don't know what changed. Why you hate elves so much. You didn't used to. It hurts, but I guess I'll just have to accept it. I wish I weren't one, but I am and I can't change that. Childhood dreams should just stay in childhood."
Mire's mouth twisted a little as she tried to think about something to change the subject. She didn't want to give up, really. She knew if she let him go now, that would be the end of it. She cast her gaze around the room, then back to him. Ummmmm....
"The beard's nice, by the way. It really suits you. I like it." Mire tossed her hands up a little and looked away, presenting him the profile of her face. She didn't turn her body, though. "Not that that matters." Her right hand fell on the bed between them. Her left, on the bed beside her.
"If you want to go, I understand." Her eyes burned. Damn it all!
A story is like a tapestry; it is never finished until the final thread is sewn.
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Azuel Vyaduka
- Guardsman
- Posts: 146
- Joined: Sun Jun 02, 2013 11:07 pm
- Name: Azuel Vyaduka
- Race: Human
Re: The New Recruit
Azuel’s eyes were blurring. This was not what he had wanted. Never had he desired to wound anyone so deeply as it was apparent he had Elemire. Childhood dreams may well be follies, but never had he wanted to be the cause of their destruction. Dozens upon dozens of contradictory actions flooded his mind, leaving his body no clue as to which to perform. He wanted to soothe her, run away and kiss her. He wanted to hold her hand and never see her again. He wanted to talk about books and return her compliment. He wanted to apologize.
He could at least decide on one thing. He knew what he didn’t want to do. “I don’t want to go.” He said softly, his voice wavering with uncertainty. He decided he would have to try again. “I don’t want to go!” He repeated more firmly, this time with a little smile working its way onto his lips. He raised his right hand to cover his mouth, like he had said something obscene. His gaze was at the floor in front of him, but he might well have been unable to see for how watery his eyes were. He sniffed once, and then choked back a single great sob. He didn’t want to cry again. He was tired of crying.
He raised the thumb of his right hand to wipe at his eye. His voice was quiet again. “I think I mean it. I don’t want to leave. I...” Tears welled up in his eyes, and he could tell they were going to fall. He grew frustrated, “Damn it!” His right hand balled into a fist before hitting the wooden frame of the bed, but the impact lacked any real weight.
“I told you,” He started saying, his speech mingled with the sounds of crying, “two years ago, that the sooner you forgot me, the better off we’d both be! I didn’t realize you had been remembering me,” He sniffed, “for so long. I told you that you should hate me. That’s what I deserved.”
He turned to look at her face. She was beautiful. He could no longer deny the attraction he felt. “And... it’s still true.” He voice fell. The weight of his words dropped to a all consuming, crushing realization. He had been ignoring these feelings, her effect on him, for one reason. Because he had to.
“Maybe if my grandfather was still alive. Maybe if my father wasn’t planning his power play, in which you would be incompatible. Maybe if I wasn’t a descendant or maybe if I wasn’t puradyne.” He raised his head and looked across the bed at her. Teodinus knew she was beautiful, and Teodinus knew he didn’t want to do what he was about to do.
“I want to stay.” His left hand landed on hers, and he turned his body such that he faced her entirely. He reached his right hand out to hold her chin before he pulled her into a kiss. He wasn’t an experienced kisser. But he held it for a long, mournful moment before he released his hand and drew back. Fresh tears had welled up in his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. “But it’s safer for us both if you hate me.”
Azuel stood up and started walking for the door. He could barely say the next words that had to pass his lips. “Goodbye, Elemire. I’m sorry.”
He could at least decide on one thing. He knew what he didn’t want to do. “I don’t want to go.” He said softly, his voice wavering with uncertainty. He decided he would have to try again. “I don’t want to go!” He repeated more firmly, this time with a little smile working its way onto his lips. He raised his right hand to cover his mouth, like he had said something obscene. His gaze was at the floor in front of him, but he might well have been unable to see for how watery his eyes were. He sniffed once, and then choked back a single great sob. He didn’t want to cry again. He was tired of crying.
He raised the thumb of his right hand to wipe at his eye. His voice was quiet again. “I think I mean it. I don’t want to leave. I...” Tears welled up in his eyes, and he could tell they were going to fall. He grew frustrated, “Damn it!” His right hand balled into a fist before hitting the wooden frame of the bed, but the impact lacked any real weight.
“I told you,” He started saying, his speech mingled with the sounds of crying, “two years ago, that the sooner you forgot me, the better off we’d both be! I didn’t realize you had been remembering me,” He sniffed, “for so long. I told you that you should hate me. That’s what I deserved.”
He turned to look at her face. She was beautiful. He could no longer deny the attraction he felt. “And... it’s still true.” He voice fell. The weight of his words dropped to a all consuming, crushing realization. He had been ignoring these feelings, her effect on him, for one reason. Because he had to.
“Maybe if my grandfather was still alive. Maybe if my father wasn’t planning his power play, in which you would be incompatible. Maybe if I wasn’t a descendant or maybe if I wasn’t puradyne.” He raised his head and looked across the bed at her. Teodinus knew she was beautiful, and Teodinus knew he didn’t want to do what he was about to do.
“I want to stay.” His left hand landed on hers, and he turned his body such that he faced her entirely. He reached his right hand out to hold her chin before he pulled her into a kiss. He wasn’t an experienced kisser. But he held it for a long, mournful moment before he released his hand and drew back. Fresh tears had welled up in his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. “But it’s safer for us both if you hate me.”
Azuel stood up and started walking for the door. He could barely say the next words that had to pass his lips. “Goodbye, Elemire. I’m sorry.”
Last edited by Azuel Vyaduka on Sun Apr 27, 2014 1:24 am, edited 1 time in total.
Re: The New Recruit
“I don’t want to go.” It was said softly and she heard him. SHe just wasn't sure she heard what she thought she heard.
Mire looked up in uncertainty.
“I don’t want to go!” Mire's eyes widened. She had heard it correctly.
“I think I mean it. I don’t want to leave. I... Damn it!” The blow to the bed frame might have lacked any real weight, but the bed frame wasn't exactly high-quality, either. It shook slightly.
“I told you two years ago, that the sooner you forgot me, the better off we’d both be! I didn’t realize you had been remembering me, for so long. I told you that you should hate me. That’s what I deserved.”
Mire shook her head stubbornly when he looked at her. "I don't hate you."
So many 'maybes' followed.
“I want to stay.”
"Then, stay!" Mire replied softly and emphatically. Her whole body flushed when he held her chin in his hand and kissed her. It was a chaste kiss, simple and sweet, and all the more devastating because of it. She'd remember the feel of his lips, his beard, his hands, the taste of salt tears, this kiss, for the rest of her days.
“But it’s safer for us both if you hate me.”
"What if I can't?!" Mire said to his back. She remained on the bed for a moment, before the realization that he was actually going to leave sunk in. Now? Now he found some kind of strength?
Mire launched herself from the bed and grabbed Azuel, hugging him tightly from behind. Her cheek rested on his spine, just at the base of his neck.
"What if I can't? What if you're the reason I was able to accomplish so much for myself? How can I give up on you?" Mire's left hand slid up Azuel's chest, to rest over his heart. She could hear it beating and hear his breath. Her right fisted in the fabric of his shirt at his waist.
"Let me.. just.. I.. I'll just be your dirty little secret."
Mire looked up in uncertainty.
“I don’t want to go!” Mire's eyes widened. She had heard it correctly.
“I think I mean it. I don’t want to leave. I... Damn it!” The blow to the bed frame might have lacked any real weight, but the bed frame wasn't exactly high-quality, either. It shook slightly.
“I told you two years ago, that the sooner you forgot me, the better off we’d both be! I didn’t realize you had been remembering me, for so long. I told you that you should hate me. That’s what I deserved.”
Mire shook her head stubbornly when he looked at her. "I don't hate you."
So many 'maybes' followed.
“I want to stay.”
"Then, stay!" Mire replied softly and emphatically. Her whole body flushed when he held her chin in his hand and kissed her. It was a chaste kiss, simple and sweet, and all the more devastating because of it. She'd remember the feel of his lips, his beard, his hands, the taste of salt tears, this kiss, for the rest of her days.
“But it’s safer for us both if you hate me.”
"What if I can't?!" Mire said to his back. She remained on the bed for a moment, before the realization that he was actually going to leave sunk in. Now? Now he found some kind of strength?
Mire launched herself from the bed and grabbed Azuel, hugging him tightly from behind. Her cheek rested on his spine, just at the base of his neck.
"What if I can't? What if you're the reason I was able to accomplish so much for myself? How can I give up on you?" Mire's left hand slid up Azuel's chest, to rest over his heart. She could hear it beating and hear his breath. Her right fisted in the fabric of his shirt at his waist.
"Let me.. just.. I.. I'll just be your dirty little secret."
A story is like a tapestry; it is never finished until the final thread is sewn.
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-
Azuel Vyaduka
- Guardsman
- Posts: 146
- Joined: Sun Jun 02, 2013 11:07 pm
- Name: Azuel Vyaduka
- Race: Human
Re: The New Recruit
The door was just before him. He had been so close. Now he was trapped in a web more insidious than any spider’s. With her arms holding him so tenderly, her hands placed so sensually, it was difficult to think of anything else. Her paralysis had overtaken him. His whole body was unable to move but for quivering with anticipation of what she was promising.
His stomach must surely have turned into a live batch of snakes, for all the knots it was making. Every remaining rational thought in his mind was screaming that this was a bad idea, screaming that he had to cross the distance to the door. Screaming that he had to turn around and embrace her, and no, that wasn’t right. It wasn’t right. Another tear escaped his right eye, but Azuel was silent as he stared forlornly at his only escape.
His breath picked up, his heart rate increased. This wasn’t right. He was turning around. This was a mistake. He felt like he was a puppet to his own body as his arms slowly slid over her. His right moved over her head, and brushed her hair to the side before resting softly upon her shoulder. His left slowly swung under her right arm to wrap around her waist. His eyes lowered ever so slightly to gaze expressively into hers. With their bodies so close, they were in a position of great intimacy.
His lips contorted as though he wished to kiss her again. All that left them was a ragged, frightened breath. Her face was so beautiful. He didn’t understand how he ever could have hated her. A murky haze descended over what remained of his thoughts. He couldn’t say anything. Speech was beyond his remaining capacity.
Some small, lingering fear took hold, keeping him from initiating anything. He was immobilized by the conflicting forces of desire and reason. Elemire could tip him over the edge. His dark eyes stared into hers, awaiting her choice.
“Please.” He begged. He was no longer certain what he was asking of her. He wanted her, and he wanted what was best for them. The choice was lost to his awareness as his last thoughts drained from him. Perhaps he was asking her to choose wisely.
His stomach must surely have turned into a live batch of snakes, for all the knots it was making. Every remaining rational thought in his mind was screaming that this was a bad idea, screaming that he had to cross the distance to the door. Screaming that he had to turn around and embrace her, and no, that wasn’t right. It wasn’t right. Another tear escaped his right eye, but Azuel was silent as he stared forlornly at his only escape.
His breath picked up, his heart rate increased. This wasn’t right. He was turning around. This was a mistake. He felt like he was a puppet to his own body as his arms slowly slid over her. His right moved over her head, and brushed her hair to the side before resting softly upon her shoulder. His left slowly swung under her right arm to wrap around her waist. His eyes lowered ever so slightly to gaze expressively into hers. With their bodies so close, they were in a position of great intimacy.
His lips contorted as though he wished to kiss her again. All that left them was a ragged, frightened breath. Her face was so beautiful. He didn’t understand how he ever could have hated her. A murky haze descended over what remained of his thoughts. He couldn’t say anything. Speech was beyond his remaining capacity.
Some small, lingering fear took hold, keeping him from initiating anything. He was immobilized by the conflicting forces of desire and reason. Elemire could tip him over the edge. His dark eyes stared into hers, awaiting her choice.
“Please.” He begged. He was no longer certain what he was asking of her. He wanted her, and he wanted what was best for them. The choice was lost to his awareness as his last thoughts drained from him. Perhaps he was asking her to choose wisely.
Re: The New Recruit
He shook in her arms like a seedling in a storm. It made her hold onto him even tighter. That is, until he moved to turn toward her not away from her. He turned and her hands dragged across him. Her right under his arm and on his back now, her left still around his waist.
He stroked her hair and locked his gaze with hers. His hand hand brushed across the tip of her ear, a sensitive place. Her expression was intense. He was unpredictable. What was he going to do?
His hand came to rest on her shoulder. His arm wrapped around her waist, leaving little space between them. Some expression twisted his features as he fought with himself. Was it fear or desire that flickered in his eyes?
Mire wriggled in his grasp to get her hands free. She lifted her hands to his face, cupping it. Her fingers stroked through his beard. It was softer than she thought it would be, given the coarseness of the hair. Her gaze dropped to his mouth, her thumbs touched his lips even as he exhaled and begged her so sweetly.
"Please."
She nodded, yes, thinking he was just asking her to make the first move, so it would be her fault... always her fault. Because he needed it to be her fault.
Yes. It could be her fault. He could say she seduced him. She had more experience than he anyway, right? Never mind that her experiences were over ten years old and hadn't been because she wanted them.
"Just once, just once," she whispered against his lips, still nodding yes even as she lifted up onto the balls of her feet and pressed against him so she could feel him, all of him.
Still nodding yes, as she looked him in the eye. Still nodding yes, as she slipped her fingers into his hair to pull his head down so she could touch her lips to his.
"Just once..." A promise she knew she couldn't keep if he came back to her, but what did it matter anyway. He'd run away and never come back and she'd have to hold this memory with the other ones. Another kiss brushed his lips as she inhaled a shaky breath and clenched her fingers in his hair.
"Just once and it'll be all my fault. All..." a kiss, "... my," another kiss, "... fault." More kisses as she stepped backwards, pulling him to the bed, turning him as if they danced, so he would hit the bed first.
~~~~
PW 130, December
Mire sat outside the Headmaster’s office. The mistress from the Orphanage was there, along with Azu’s father.
“I think you can understand my concern. She is distracting my son from his studies and duties as a Vyaduka. His brother has had to forcibly make him leave the girl’s side on more than one occasion. She's making him weak. It’s inappropriate given his status and hers.”
“Yes, sir. We understand.”
“Mistress Fallon, you will handle this. Correct?”
“Yes, of course. She will no longer be a bother to you or your family anymore.”
"Good, I'd hate for my father's charity funds to fail to reach you."
She could hear every word they said. The door had been left open a crack. Mire hiccoughed as tears started to fall. Azu’s father exited first. Mire was beneath him and inconvenient. He did not even spare the girl a look. The headmaster and mistress continued speaking, arranging for Mire’s removal from the school. As a surrogate parent, the Mistress had every right to do so. When the mistress exited the room, she looked down at Mire in disgust and anger. The mistress’ hand shot and and grabbed the sensitive tip of Mire’s left ear and jerked her off the bench.
“Don’t you sit there and cry. It’s all your fault for thinking you could be friends with the likes of him. You’ll be staying at the orphanage now, helping take care of the littler ones, and doing other odd jobs to get money for me... us.”
The woman continued to drag Mire down the halls of the school by her ear.
The pain made the tears fall harder and Mire stifled a sob even as she choked out, “But, I don’t want to leave Azu!”
The woman’s features turned thunderous and a heavy hand swung open palmed at Mire’s face. The blow made Mire’s ears ring and she tasted blood in her mouth. The tears fell, but she stifled breaths and sobs. They would only make the beating worse.
“You shut your mouth! It’s that sort of thing that started the problem in the first place! You hear me? It’s ALL YOUR FAULT!”
~~~
Please, he'd begged.
Yes, she responded. She nodded and her hands dropped to the buckle of his belt. It jingled as it hung loosely, as she pushed him down onto the bed and pulled off her shirt.
Mire reassured him of her culpability as her lips found the skin of his neck and her hands pushed up his shirt, exposing his chest. He had hair there, too, like his beard. So human... The hair was rough against her breasts. She liked the way it felt.
He was compliant, torn, and vulnerable as she pulled his shirt off of him. His tears weren't off-putting, because he reached for her, touched her even if it was with trembling, tentative hands.
Mire straddled him and pressed against him. She took his face in her hands and kissed him as she felt his hips lift of their own accord in a natural response to the situation. Both were still clothed there, but the way he pressed into her was arousing and felt good. She whispered, through a shiver of anticipation and more kisses,
"All. My. Fault."
He stroked her hair and locked his gaze with hers. His hand hand brushed across the tip of her ear, a sensitive place. Her expression was intense. He was unpredictable. What was he going to do?
His hand came to rest on her shoulder. His arm wrapped around her waist, leaving little space between them. Some expression twisted his features as he fought with himself. Was it fear or desire that flickered in his eyes?
Mire wriggled in his grasp to get her hands free. She lifted her hands to his face, cupping it. Her fingers stroked through his beard. It was softer than she thought it would be, given the coarseness of the hair. Her gaze dropped to his mouth, her thumbs touched his lips even as he exhaled and begged her so sweetly.
"Please."
She nodded, yes, thinking he was just asking her to make the first move, so it would be her fault... always her fault. Because he needed it to be her fault.
Yes. It could be her fault. He could say she seduced him. She had more experience than he anyway, right? Never mind that her experiences were over ten years old and hadn't been because she wanted them.
"Just once, just once," she whispered against his lips, still nodding yes even as she lifted up onto the balls of her feet and pressed against him so she could feel him, all of him.
Still nodding yes, as she looked him in the eye. Still nodding yes, as she slipped her fingers into his hair to pull his head down so she could touch her lips to his.
"Just once..." A promise she knew she couldn't keep if he came back to her, but what did it matter anyway. He'd run away and never come back and she'd have to hold this memory with the other ones. Another kiss brushed his lips as she inhaled a shaky breath and clenched her fingers in his hair.
"Just once and it'll be all my fault. All..." a kiss, "... my," another kiss, "... fault." More kisses as she stepped backwards, pulling him to the bed, turning him as if they danced, so he would hit the bed first.
~~~~
PW 130, December
Mire sat outside the Headmaster’s office. The mistress from the Orphanage was there, along with Azu’s father.
“I think you can understand my concern. She is distracting my son from his studies and duties as a Vyaduka. His brother has had to forcibly make him leave the girl’s side on more than one occasion. She's making him weak. It’s inappropriate given his status and hers.”
“Yes, sir. We understand.”
“Mistress Fallon, you will handle this. Correct?”
“Yes, of course. She will no longer be a bother to you or your family anymore.”
"Good, I'd hate for my father's charity funds to fail to reach you."
She could hear every word they said. The door had been left open a crack. Mire hiccoughed as tears started to fall. Azu’s father exited first. Mire was beneath him and inconvenient. He did not even spare the girl a look. The headmaster and mistress continued speaking, arranging for Mire’s removal from the school. As a surrogate parent, the Mistress had every right to do so. When the mistress exited the room, she looked down at Mire in disgust and anger. The mistress’ hand shot and and grabbed the sensitive tip of Mire’s left ear and jerked her off the bench.
“Don’t you sit there and cry. It’s all your fault for thinking you could be friends with the likes of him. You’ll be staying at the orphanage now, helping take care of the littler ones, and doing other odd jobs to get money for me... us.”
The woman continued to drag Mire down the halls of the school by her ear.
The pain made the tears fall harder and Mire stifled a sob even as she choked out, “But, I don’t want to leave Azu!”
The woman’s features turned thunderous and a heavy hand swung open palmed at Mire’s face. The blow made Mire’s ears ring and she tasted blood in her mouth. The tears fell, but she stifled breaths and sobs. They would only make the beating worse.
“You shut your mouth! It’s that sort of thing that started the problem in the first place! You hear me? It’s ALL YOUR FAULT!”
~~~
Please, he'd begged.
Yes, she responded. She nodded and her hands dropped to the buckle of his belt. It jingled as it hung loosely, as she pushed him down onto the bed and pulled off her shirt.
Mire reassured him of her culpability as her lips found the skin of his neck and her hands pushed up his shirt, exposing his chest. He had hair there, too, like his beard. So human... The hair was rough against her breasts. She liked the way it felt.
He was compliant, torn, and vulnerable as she pulled his shirt off of him. His tears weren't off-putting, because he reached for her, touched her even if it was with trembling, tentative hands.
Mire straddled him and pressed against him. She took his face in her hands and kissed him as she felt his hips lift of their own accord in a natural response to the situation. Both were still clothed there, but the way he pressed into her was arousing and felt good. She whispered, through a shiver of anticipation and more kisses,
"All. My. Fault."
A story is like a tapestry; it is never finished until the final thread is sewn.
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-
Azuel Vyaduka
- Guardsman
- Posts: 146
- Joined: Sun Jun 02, 2013 11:07 pm
- Name: Azuel Vyaduka
- Race: Human
Re: The New Recruit
He felt like he needed her here. She felt so right atop him that Azuel’s fears started to wane. His stomach pressed against her toned, athletic body. He felt a distinct need to press into her, and raised his body from the mattress to do so. He rolled upwards, his body making motions on instinct alone.
With hesitant, fearful movements he brought his face up to meet hers, silencing any further declarations of blame. His hands seemed to know what they were doing when they slowly caressed her back and worked their way to the hem of her pants. His fingers slipped under the edge, causing her to help him by thrashing the blocking clothing free. Her movements felt right when she alternated pressure against his chest. He wanted more, and so his right hand started working its way back up to press her against him. A pleasant feeling swelled at his loins.
He pushed his head back down to the bed, his breaths heavy and halting. His hips lurched upwards sending a fresh wave of bliss through Azuel’s thoughts. His hands continued to trail upwards, his left now at her back while his right explored her brown coils of hair. His thumb worked its way down her ear, slowly approaching the pointed tip. A burst of energy from his body brought her face back down to his, where after a moment of searching for her lips it became another kiss, ending his ability to track the progress of his finger.
His hand fell off to the side briefly, where it began working at his own trousers. He pushed at her thigh in the process. Azuel’s mouth went wide, momentarily breaking their kiss, as she fell closer, or at least seemed to. He could feel her through the fabric that yet remained, which was pleasant but made it difficult to escape as she pressed the cloth against his skin. The bed rattled as he launched upwards, his trousers only barely lowered. He felt an intense desire to conclude events.
Struggling, he even attempted to use his toes to pull his pants off. He was about to burst. His fingers lightly brushed against his penis when working off his pants. It was enough.
Having pushed only such that the tip poked out, Azuel’s semen gushed out between them. Much of it landed atop Azuel’s body, and some of it upon the sheets. A few spattered across Elemire before glancing off.
When it became apparent it was a lost cause, Azuel’s left arm pushed Elemire slightly to the side while he twisted his hips in the opposite direction. He waited for his pitiful show to end while he felt her breathing beside him, their exhales curiously synchronized.
Azuel’s thoughts slowly returned to him. He started shaking a little, as if suddenly very cold. What had he just done? What had he nearly just done? His arms tightened a bit around Elemire, lying at his side, in an unconscious expression of his uncertainty and fear. She was a source of security and peace. She appeared to be in control; if he did not believe it, if neither of them were, he didn’t want to think about where that left them.
“W-what...” His voice was small and scared, but he wasn’t crying again. He shook with fear, and made a soft gagging noise with his throat. Without realizing what he was doing, he pushed his head to the side of hers, his forehead against her ear. “What?”
With hesitant, fearful movements he brought his face up to meet hers, silencing any further declarations of blame. His hands seemed to know what they were doing when they slowly caressed her back and worked their way to the hem of her pants. His fingers slipped under the edge, causing her to help him by thrashing the blocking clothing free. Her movements felt right when she alternated pressure against his chest. He wanted more, and so his right hand started working its way back up to press her against him. A pleasant feeling swelled at his loins.
He pushed his head back down to the bed, his breaths heavy and halting. His hips lurched upwards sending a fresh wave of bliss through Azuel’s thoughts. His hands continued to trail upwards, his left now at her back while his right explored her brown coils of hair. His thumb worked its way down her ear, slowly approaching the pointed tip. A burst of energy from his body brought her face back down to his, where after a moment of searching for her lips it became another kiss, ending his ability to track the progress of his finger.
His hand fell off to the side briefly, where it began working at his own trousers. He pushed at her thigh in the process. Azuel’s mouth went wide, momentarily breaking their kiss, as she fell closer, or at least seemed to. He could feel her through the fabric that yet remained, which was pleasant but made it difficult to escape as she pressed the cloth against his skin. The bed rattled as he launched upwards, his trousers only barely lowered. He felt an intense desire to conclude events.
Struggling, he even attempted to use his toes to pull his pants off. He was about to burst. His fingers lightly brushed against his penis when working off his pants. It was enough.
Having pushed only such that the tip poked out, Azuel’s semen gushed out between them. Much of it landed atop Azuel’s body, and some of it upon the sheets. A few spattered across Elemire before glancing off.
When it became apparent it was a lost cause, Azuel’s left arm pushed Elemire slightly to the side while he twisted his hips in the opposite direction. He waited for his pitiful show to end while he felt her breathing beside him, their exhales curiously synchronized.
Azuel’s thoughts slowly returned to him. He started shaking a little, as if suddenly very cold. What had he just done? What had he nearly just done? His arms tightened a bit around Elemire, lying at his side, in an unconscious expression of his uncertainty and fear. She was a source of security and peace. She appeared to be in control; if he did not believe it, if neither of them were, he didn’t want to think about where that left them.
“W-what...” His voice was small and scared, but he wasn’t crying again. He shook with fear, and made a soft gagging noise with his throat. Without realizing what he was doing, he pushed his head to the side of hers, his forehead against her ear. “What?”
Re: The New Recruit
~~~
PW 138, September
Mire shifted uncomfortably as she stood at the front of the class. She was staring at the floor, a ragdoll clutched in her arms. The dress she wore was hand-me-down, mourning blue, and threadbare. Two short pigtails stuck out from the sides of her head, just behind the points of her ears. Her shoes were hand-me-downs, too, and had been re-cobbled several times.
She hated having to stand in front of the class. Other children snickered and laughed at her. She was taller than most of them and skinny. Her eyes were just a little too large and the pale green and yellow of new leaves. Mire balanced on one leg and rubbed her shoe against the back of the other. She was blushing furiously, which just made the other children snicker and laugh more.
“Class!” The teacher slammed a ruler against his desk. “That is quite enough. You will give Miss Oranrae the same respect she gives you. She lost both her parents in the magic user riots! They were guardsmen, protecting the likes of you from evil magic users.”
Mire’s head sunk a little lower and she clutched the doll tightly.
“There, there, Elemire, there’s an open desk beside Mr. Vyaduka. Azuel?” The teacher made a face. The boy’s nose was buried in a book. He was a good reader, but tended to ignore everything else for the words on a page.
“I see it.” Mire replied shyly to the teacher. “I can go by myself.” Mire made her way down the aisle and suddenly tripped. Another boy had stuck out his foot. The class erupted into laughter.
“Koren! That is enough, class!”
The trip caused her to land hard on her knees and hands. The doll slid down the aisle to Azuel’s feet.
Mire stood up and brushed herself off. Her right knee was scuffed and red.
“No, sir, it was my fault.” She spoke solemnly to the teacher before glancing to the boy. Koren stuck his tongue out at her and pulled his eyes wide. Mire glanced away and moved toward her seat. Oddly enough, the doll wasn’t on the floor anymore.
Mire looked around, eyes wide with fear. Where did it go? Who took it? Tears started to well up. She couldn’t lose Dolly, too!
“Take your seat, Elemire.”
“Y-yes, sir..” Mire inhaled a shaky breath and sat down. She clenched her hands in front of her, and looked around surreptitiously. On the desk next to her, tucked in front of the boy and behind the book, lay her doll. Mire’s eyes widened. DOLLY!
When she looked up the boy was looking at her. His eyes were green like hers, but darker and his ears were round. The book he was looking at was pristine. So were his clothes. Mire blinked. The boy offered her an awkward smile and handed dolly over to her without a word.
As soon as she took the doll, she crushed it to her chest in relief. When she looked up again, the boy had already turned back to the book. The book had pictures and words in it.
Could he read already? Mire was impressed. He was nice AND smart.
At recess, Mire approached the boy who sat under a shade tree, still reading. She squatted down in front of him, dolly clutched to her chest, still.
“Do you want to play with me?”
“No.”
“Oh.”
“I think it’s amazing that you can read. Would you read to me? I can’t read yet, but I’m learning how.”
The boy sighed, annoyed.
“No.”
“Oh.”
Mire remained quiet for less than a second.
“Please? Please read to me? Please, please, please? You could teach me.”
“I’m not supposed to talk to elves.”
“What? Why?”
“Because I’m a Puradyne and elves are magic-loving.”
“Th-that’s not true! I don’t have any magic at all. And… and I’m Puradyne, too!” Mire pouted.
The boy peered at her with suspicion over the top of the book.
“Pinky promise!” She said to him and held out her pinky.
The boy huffed a sigh and caught her pinky with his own. “Since you pinky promised, I’ll teach you.”
Mire’s face lit up.
“Really?!” She moved around to Azuel’s side and leaned against him in that naïve and innocent way all children do. Azuel shifted uncomfortably and moved over, but gave up once he realized she was going to lean on him no matter how many times he moved away.
Eventually, they became a common sight: Azuel reading out loud to Mire and Mire leaning against him. She asked questions about the stories he read and eventually, began to read to him, too. She also managed to get him to kick a ball back and forth with her in the sun, too.
School breaks were hard on Mire. She wanted to see her friend, but she had duties at the orphanage. All the orphans did. The only special times she had to herself were those she had with Azuel, reading and learning.
At the winter solstice, Khayyam brought Azuel to the orphanage to help distribute solstice gifts. All the children received new winter coats and scarves, along with re-gifted toys from each other. Azuel held a square present in his hands. He glanced at Mire once or twice before beckoning her to follow him. He disappeared behind the large chair where the important guests were allowed to sit. She followed.
There, with painful solemnity, Azuel presented Mire with the gift. Mire’s eyes widened. Taking the gift, she sat on the floor, on her knees, and carefully, very carefully undid the wrapping. She wanted to save it. Azuel had hunkered down beside her. Mire’s eyes got even wider and she clasped the book to her chest. It was the book he’d first read to her all those months ago.
On the inside cover, was a childishly drawn picture of stick figures holding hands surrounded by lots of hearts. Written below it, in childish script, was simply “Mire+Azu friends forever.” Azu had written the words. Mire had drawn the picture.
“Oh, thank you, Azu!”
“Where’s my present?” Azu huffed and pouted sullenly. The concept of poor hadn’t really sunk in.
Mire looked down, upset that she didn’t have anything for Azu until… she leaned over and graced him with a little kiss on the cheek.
“That’s what my mommy used to give my daddy all the time. He used to say it was the best gift he could ever get.”
Mire beamed at Azu, who had turned beet red. He rubbed at his cheek. He’d liked her gift, but didn’t want to say so.
“I guess it’ll have to do.”
“Oh…” Then, of course, he felt bad for making Mire feel bad. So, he leaned over and put a kiss on her cheek, too.
“Now, you owe me!” With that, he stood up and left.
Mire touched her cheek and stared down at the book. She could hear Azu’s grandfather asking where he’d gotten off to. When Mire looked up, she could see both of them over the top of the chair. Azu’s grandfather had lifted Azu up and was holding him.
Suddenly, Mire felt very said. She missed her mommy and daddy. Slipping from the room, Mire went up to the bedroom and stowed the book under her mattress. That way, she could keep it safe from the other children.
A few weeks later, when the mistress found the book, Mire was beaten for stealing it and for fighting back to keep it. Those were the first marks that stayed on her back. The mistress returned the the book to Khayyam and apologized. Khayyam had questioned Azu, who informed him he’d given the book as a solstice present. Khayyam had praised Azuel for helping those less fortunate learn to read. Being called less fortunate made Mire embarrassed, but she also felt vindicated. She hadn’t stolen the book and Azu proving that made her cherish the book even more.
For Mire, time was measured in time spent with or without Azu. Learning, reading, spending time together were all special moments of luxury. The best times happened when they were nestled in the stacks of the library, surrounded by different books. Azuel would pontificate on this or that little known fact, pointed out in the text of a book, and Mire would listen, enraptured and wide-eyed. He would be sitting, knees up, leaned against a wall and she would be laying on her stomach, chin in hands, legs crossed in the air.
PW 134 September
More than once they actually fell asleep in the library, head resting on head, a book under Azuel’s hand and sheets of paper with homework on it fallen off of Mire’s lap. Those days had been particularly hard days. Azuel’s brother, Jafar, woke them and dragged Azuel off, leaving Mire to put away the books on her own. She was over two hours late returning. The beating she received left more marks, many of them permanent.
~~
The encounter was done before it had barely started, but Mire was strangely alright with the turn of events. Mire cuddled him and held him as he pushed away from her and finished. She reached to stop him from pulling away.
"I don't mind," she whispered. She was left feeling desire, but even that was alright. Sometimes, there's pleasure in giving without getting anything in return. "I'm glad you found me so attractive you couldn't wait. If you... if you stay a little longer we can try again." This was followed by kisses on his cheek.
He had begun to shake, so she held him tighter, going so far as to put her bare leg across his thighs. Her arm reached across and tugged the quilt on her bed, until it covered him and part of her leg. Beneath the quilt, her finger touched the results that had pooled and started to cool on his belly, then drifted to the part of him that poked out and lower still to place her hand atop him. Her hand moved leisurely there. It was taking some time for things to subside. She smiled and snuggled closer, burying her face in the hollow of his neck.
Azuel made the sounds in the room change when he squished his forehead against her ear.
"What, what?" Mire didn't understand his question at all, but he was still trembling. She didn't think it was from desire. Considering what had happened two year's prior...
Mire's hand drifted up and she pulled him toward her, so that he could rest his head on her shoulder and she could hold him properly.
"Shh. It's OK." She squeezed him and stroked him, trying to calm him. "Azu..."
Calling him by that name brought back memories.
"Azu, do you know I still have the books you gave me for each winter solstice? Do you want to see them?"
PW 138, September
Mire shifted uncomfortably as she stood at the front of the class. She was staring at the floor, a ragdoll clutched in her arms. The dress she wore was hand-me-down, mourning blue, and threadbare. Two short pigtails stuck out from the sides of her head, just behind the points of her ears. Her shoes were hand-me-downs, too, and had been re-cobbled several times.
She hated having to stand in front of the class. Other children snickered and laughed at her. She was taller than most of them and skinny. Her eyes were just a little too large and the pale green and yellow of new leaves. Mire balanced on one leg and rubbed her shoe against the back of the other. She was blushing furiously, which just made the other children snicker and laugh more.
“Class!” The teacher slammed a ruler against his desk. “That is quite enough. You will give Miss Oranrae the same respect she gives you. She lost both her parents in the magic user riots! They were guardsmen, protecting the likes of you from evil magic users.”
Mire’s head sunk a little lower and she clutched the doll tightly.
“There, there, Elemire, there’s an open desk beside Mr. Vyaduka. Azuel?” The teacher made a face. The boy’s nose was buried in a book. He was a good reader, but tended to ignore everything else for the words on a page.
“I see it.” Mire replied shyly to the teacher. “I can go by myself.” Mire made her way down the aisle and suddenly tripped. Another boy had stuck out his foot. The class erupted into laughter.
“Koren! That is enough, class!”
The trip caused her to land hard on her knees and hands. The doll slid down the aisle to Azuel’s feet.
Mire stood up and brushed herself off. Her right knee was scuffed and red.
“No, sir, it was my fault.” She spoke solemnly to the teacher before glancing to the boy. Koren stuck his tongue out at her and pulled his eyes wide. Mire glanced away and moved toward her seat. Oddly enough, the doll wasn’t on the floor anymore.
Mire looked around, eyes wide with fear. Where did it go? Who took it? Tears started to well up. She couldn’t lose Dolly, too!
“Take your seat, Elemire.”
“Y-yes, sir..” Mire inhaled a shaky breath and sat down. She clenched her hands in front of her, and looked around surreptitiously. On the desk next to her, tucked in front of the boy and behind the book, lay her doll. Mire’s eyes widened. DOLLY!
When she looked up the boy was looking at her. His eyes were green like hers, but darker and his ears were round. The book he was looking at was pristine. So were his clothes. Mire blinked. The boy offered her an awkward smile and handed dolly over to her without a word.
As soon as she took the doll, she crushed it to her chest in relief. When she looked up again, the boy had already turned back to the book. The book had pictures and words in it.
Could he read already? Mire was impressed. He was nice AND smart.
At recess, Mire approached the boy who sat under a shade tree, still reading. She squatted down in front of him, dolly clutched to her chest, still.
“Do you want to play with me?”
“No.”
“Oh.”
“I think it’s amazing that you can read. Would you read to me? I can’t read yet, but I’m learning how.”
The boy sighed, annoyed.
“No.”
“Oh.”
Mire remained quiet for less than a second.
“Please? Please read to me? Please, please, please? You could teach me.”
“I’m not supposed to talk to elves.”
“What? Why?”
“Because I’m a Puradyne and elves are magic-loving.”
“Th-that’s not true! I don’t have any magic at all. And… and I’m Puradyne, too!” Mire pouted.
The boy peered at her with suspicion over the top of the book.
“Pinky promise!” She said to him and held out her pinky.
The boy huffed a sigh and caught her pinky with his own. “Since you pinky promised, I’ll teach you.”
Mire’s face lit up.
“Really?!” She moved around to Azuel’s side and leaned against him in that naïve and innocent way all children do. Azuel shifted uncomfortably and moved over, but gave up once he realized she was going to lean on him no matter how many times he moved away.
Eventually, they became a common sight: Azuel reading out loud to Mire and Mire leaning against him. She asked questions about the stories he read and eventually, began to read to him, too. She also managed to get him to kick a ball back and forth with her in the sun, too.
School breaks were hard on Mire. She wanted to see her friend, but she had duties at the orphanage. All the orphans did. The only special times she had to herself were those she had with Azuel, reading and learning.
At the winter solstice, Khayyam brought Azuel to the orphanage to help distribute solstice gifts. All the children received new winter coats and scarves, along with re-gifted toys from each other. Azuel held a square present in his hands. He glanced at Mire once or twice before beckoning her to follow him. He disappeared behind the large chair where the important guests were allowed to sit. She followed.
There, with painful solemnity, Azuel presented Mire with the gift. Mire’s eyes widened. Taking the gift, she sat on the floor, on her knees, and carefully, very carefully undid the wrapping. She wanted to save it. Azuel had hunkered down beside her. Mire’s eyes got even wider and she clasped the book to her chest. It was the book he’d first read to her all those months ago.
On the inside cover, was a childishly drawn picture of stick figures holding hands surrounded by lots of hearts. Written below it, in childish script, was simply “Mire+Azu friends forever.” Azu had written the words. Mire had drawn the picture.
“Oh, thank you, Azu!”
“Where’s my present?” Azu huffed and pouted sullenly. The concept of poor hadn’t really sunk in.
Mire looked down, upset that she didn’t have anything for Azu until… she leaned over and graced him with a little kiss on the cheek.
“That’s what my mommy used to give my daddy all the time. He used to say it was the best gift he could ever get.”
Mire beamed at Azu, who had turned beet red. He rubbed at his cheek. He’d liked her gift, but didn’t want to say so.
“I guess it’ll have to do.”
“Oh…” Then, of course, he felt bad for making Mire feel bad. So, he leaned over and put a kiss on her cheek, too.
“Now, you owe me!” With that, he stood up and left.
Mire touched her cheek and stared down at the book. She could hear Azu’s grandfather asking where he’d gotten off to. When Mire looked up, she could see both of them over the top of the chair. Azu’s grandfather had lifted Azu up and was holding him.
Suddenly, Mire felt very said. She missed her mommy and daddy. Slipping from the room, Mire went up to the bedroom and stowed the book under her mattress. That way, she could keep it safe from the other children.
A few weeks later, when the mistress found the book, Mire was beaten for stealing it and for fighting back to keep it. Those were the first marks that stayed on her back. The mistress returned the the book to Khayyam and apologized. Khayyam had questioned Azu, who informed him he’d given the book as a solstice present. Khayyam had praised Azuel for helping those less fortunate learn to read. Being called less fortunate made Mire embarrassed, but she also felt vindicated. She hadn’t stolen the book and Azu proving that made her cherish the book even more.
For Mire, time was measured in time spent with or without Azu. Learning, reading, spending time together were all special moments of luxury. The best times happened when they were nestled in the stacks of the library, surrounded by different books. Azuel would pontificate on this or that little known fact, pointed out in the text of a book, and Mire would listen, enraptured and wide-eyed. He would be sitting, knees up, leaned against a wall and she would be laying on her stomach, chin in hands, legs crossed in the air.
PW 134 September
More than once they actually fell asleep in the library, head resting on head, a book under Azuel’s hand and sheets of paper with homework on it fallen off of Mire’s lap. Those days had been particularly hard days. Azuel’s brother, Jafar, woke them and dragged Azuel off, leaving Mire to put away the books on her own. She was over two hours late returning. The beating she received left more marks, many of them permanent.
~~
The encounter was done before it had barely started, but Mire was strangely alright with the turn of events. Mire cuddled him and held him as he pushed away from her and finished. She reached to stop him from pulling away.
"I don't mind," she whispered. She was left feeling desire, but even that was alright. Sometimes, there's pleasure in giving without getting anything in return. "I'm glad you found me so attractive you couldn't wait. If you... if you stay a little longer we can try again." This was followed by kisses on his cheek.
He had begun to shake, so she held him tighter, going so far as to put her bare leg across his thighs. Her arm reached across and tugged the quilt on her bed, until it covered him and part of her leg. Beneath the quilt, her finger touched the results that had pooled and started to cool on his belly, then drifted to the part of him that poked out and lower still to place her hand atop him. Her hand moved leisurely there. It was taking some time for things to subside. She smiled and snuggled closer, burying her face in the hollow of his neck.
Azuel made the sounds in the room change when he squished his forehead against her ear.
"What, what?" Mire didn't understand his question at all, but he was still trembling. She didn't think it was from desire. Considering what had happened two year's prior...
Mire's hand drifted up and she pulled him toward her, so that he could rest his head on her shoulder and she could hold him properly.
"Shh. It's OK." She squeezed him and stroked him, trying to calm him. "Azu..."
Calling him by that name brought back memories.
"Azu, do you know I still have the books you gave me for each winter solstice? Do you want to see them?"
A story is like a tapestry; it is never finished until the final thread is sewn.
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-
Azuel Vyaduka
- Guardsman
- Posts: 146
- Joined: Sun Jun 02, 2013 11:07 pm
- Name: Azuel Vyaduka
- Race: Human
Re: The New Recruit
Azuel bit his lip. His thoughts were back in their entirety. He felt one emotion above all others: shame. Going off early was a part of it, but that did not bother him as much as it might have another. What worried him were his actions here, the choices he had made that had left him in his current state. He had nearly had sex with Elemire. Why? Why had he done that, when moments ago all reason had told him he needed to leave? Why were a few childhood memories so important that he had to go down a path which was clearly self-destructive?
He started trying to disentangle himself, slowly working his arms out from behind her, but she pulled him closer without effort. She was strong, but Azuel did not have much of a will to resist. Crippled as he was by doubts, he found a strange, ironic sanctuary in their source. Once, she had made him feel idiotic, like a buffoon wandering about without direction. Here, she was a source of solace. He felt safe, even important, when she reached for him so tenderly. He had left such an impact on her, an impact she had been unable to return until now.
From her point of view, perhaps that was true. He thought otherwise. This was not right. He knew that, he had known it before. He pieced together the reason for his gut feeling. She wasn’t seeing Azuel, the clueless fool. She was seeing Azuel, shaper of lives, guardian angel. She was in love with an imagined being; an illusion weaved about him by her own memories.
She moved him closer, straddled him, and stroked at his stomach, threatening to banish these thoughts from his mind. His eyes swam and rolled about in his head as her hand slowly lowered. He shuddered with a relapse of pleasure. He might have whimpered, but the sounds that escaped his lips where so quiet not even Mire could be expected to hear them; not even with his face against her ear.
He closed his eyes and tried to drive out the sensory input. He succeeded to a slight degree and finally managed to pull himself a short distance away. His back touched the droplets, which stung coldly. He edged forwards a bit but started moving to raise himself.
He had to break his thoughts to her gently. No matter how he did it, it was going to hurt all the worse now that they had... done this. In a way, it was a relief that he hadn’t gone inside her. He wondered if it might have made this all the harder, or even never occur to him at all.
She provided the change in topic, and Azuel was quick to take it. He didn’t remember the books he had given her. He nodded slowly, propping himself up on his arm. He was starting to feel shy, bare as he was before an equally revealed Elemire. He tried not to let it show, refusing to adjust his garments with undue haste, and besides glancing shortly to the side he succeeded.
“Yes.” He responded simply. His voice was whispered, “I’d like that.” Perhaps while she spoke of the books, he would come up with some way, something he could tell her that would leave them both better off. He grudgingly admitted that didn’t think it was likely.
He started trying to disentangle himself, slowly working his arms out from behind her, but she pulled him closer without effort. She was strong, but Azuel did not have much of a will to resist. Crippled as he was by doubts, he found a strange, ironic sanctuary in their source. Once, she had made him feel idiotic, like a buffoon wandering about without direction. Here, she was a source of solace. He felt safe, even important, when she reached for him so tenderly. He had left such an impact on her, an impact she had been unable to return until now.
From her point of view, perhaps that was true. He thought otherwise. This was not right. He knew that, he had known it before. He pieced together the reason for his gut feeling. She wasn’t seeing Azuel, the clueless fool. She was seeing Azuel, shaper of lives, guardian angel. She was in love with an imagined being; an illusion weaved about him by her own memories.
She moved him closer, straddled him, and stroked at his stomach, threatening to banish these thoughts from his mind. His eyes swam and rolled about in his head as her hand slowly lowered. He shuddered with a relapse of pleasure. He might have whimpered, but the sounds that escaped his lips where so quiet not even Mire could be expected to hear them; not even with his face against her ear.
He closed his eyes and tried to drive out the sensory input. He succeeded to a slight degree and finally managed to pull himself a short distance away. His back touched the droplets, which stung coldly. He edged forwards a bit but started moving to raise himself.
He had to break his thoughts to her gently. No matter how he did it, it was going to hurt all the worse now that they had... done this. In a way, it was a relief that he hadn’t gone inside her. He wondered if it might have made this all the harder, or even never occur to him at all.
She provided the change in topic, and Azuel was quick to take it. He didn’t remember the books he had given her. He nodded slowly, propping himself up on his arm. He was starting to feel shy, bare as he was before an equally revealed Elemire. He tried not to let it show, refusing to adjust his garments with undue haste, and besides glancing shortly to the side he succeeded.
“Yes.” He responded simply. His voice was whispered, “I’d like that.” Perhaps while she spoke of the books, he would come up with some way, something he could tell her that would leave them both better off. He grudgingly admitted that didn’t think it was likely.
Re: The New Recruit
Even as she held him, he started to pull away. She wanted him to stay, but he wasn't even looking her in the eye.
He managed to adjust himself and refasten his pants. That was definitely a signal that he was more than done, even she had to admit that. The room wasn't unduly cold, so Mire slipped from the bed. Standing near it she smoothed her hand down her side and then used her pants to wipe her hand. That stuff got cold quick!
Even though she was a little embarrassed to do so, Mire walked to the bookshelf, naked. She stayed naked on principle. Mire wanted him to see her as a woman, wanted him to want to stay.
Silvery, white scars tightened across her back as she reached for a book on the book shelf. Wholly exposed, emotionally and physically, Mire moved back to the bed and sat behind Azuel. Pressing herself against his bare back, she held the book out in front of them with one hand. Her other arm was draped casually over his shoulder. Her cheek was parallel to his. The book was a storybook of fables.
It was at least 18 years old and had been obviously well-loved. Opening the front of the book she held it out to Azuel with a smile on her face. "This was the first one you gave me. Solstice 138." She leaned away slightly so she could turn her face to look at him. "I'm afraid my art skills are still as poor."
There, on the inlay, was the picture. "The next one you gave me was a letters book to help me work on my handwriting. The year after was the Descendants of Marn. You were so proud your family name was listed." The following year was the year they had been separated, just before the winter solstice season.
He managed to adjust himself and refasten his pants. That was definitely a signal that he was more than done, even she had to admit that. The room wasn't unduly cold, so Mire slipped from the bed. Standing near it she smoothed her hand down her side and then used her pants to wipe her hand. That stuff got cold quick!
Even though she was a little embarrassed to do so, Mire walked to the bookshelf, naked. She stayed naked on principle. Mire wanted him to see her as a woman, wanted him to want to stay.
Silvery, white scars tightened across her back as she reached for a book on the book shelf. Wholly exposed, emotionally and physically, Mire moved back to the bed and sat behind Azuel. Pressing herself against his bare back, she held the book out in front of them with one hand. Her other arm was draped casually over his shoulder. Her cheek was parallel to his. The book was a storybook of fables.
It was at least 18 years old and had been obviously well-loved. Opening the front of the book she held it out to Azuel with a smile on her face. "This was the first one you gave me. Solstice 138." She leaned away slightly so she could turn her face to look at him. "I'm afraid my art skills are still as poor."
There, on the inlay, was the picture. "The next one you gave me was a letters book to help me work on my handwriting. The year after was the Descendants of Marn. You were so proud your family name was listed." The following year was the year they had been separated, just before the winter solstice season.
A story is like a tapestry; it is never finished until the final thread is sewn.
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