|
|
Post by Eowyn Walker on Jul 9, 2010 15:18:58 GMT -5
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
This is how they started—like, really started, when Lily stopped being just Lily, with her shyness and her authority and all her ridiculous ideals, and started being… whatever it was they came to be.
The courtyard was quieter than usual. In fact, it was near empty. The odd child passed through occasionally, humming playground melodies and chasing dragonflies in the brush. One crouched on the other end of the gates, rope and netting in hand, setting up a new trap. The sun was out—bright and burning, there in the middle of the sky. Maybe that’s why no one was out; it was too nice a day, especially for English weather. With the exception of the seven-year-old mastermind in the corner, it looked very much the normal orphanage, filled with happy, giggling children.
Eowyn sat, one leg crossed over the other, hands folded in her lap, gazing impassively out at the scenery. She looked serene, almost peaceful. The boy with the rope paused, confusion passing over his features. He held the netting up with both hands, peering at it carefully, as if instructions might just be written across the woven layer. It was too large for him anyway, the netting twice his size, so whatever semblance of a plan he’d originally had was bound to fail in the first place. Older children, usually between ten and fourteen, designed the better traps, as the eldest were busy caring for things. Youngsters usually ran in packs anyway, so Eowyn wasn't sure why he was attempting.
Turning her face lazily towards the sun, she sighed, feeling the rays against her skin. It had been hot to begin with, but as the sun beat down on the open courtyard, she felt as if she was on fire—wanted to pull every piece of clothing off her body, but then, she wasn’t quite desperate enough for that. From behind her, a sound came, sharp and dry and sudden, like a twig snapping.
She turned.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
tag: lily
status: first post
words: 330
music: the cave - mumford and sons
other: hope you don't mind the beginning, just meaning
that this is where, for eowyn, their relationship starts progressing.
credit: me!
|
|
|
|
Post by Lily Montgomery on Jul 10, 2010 2:24:42 GMT -5
Lily greeted her fellow aristocrats with a gentle smile and nod along with a cool look for the derelicts as she walked down to the courtyard. She had been cooped up meeting with all of her comrades about the upcoming sacrifice, and it seems they've all decided the one to do it is the derelict, Yuki. He already tortured the adults they kept as prisoners so it made sense. 'I'll have to go to Edward with that' she thought as she stepped out into the courtyard.
She then noticed a familiar figure which brought a small smile to her face. Eowyn Walker, another comrade one that she had after much coaxing was beginning to get to know. "Why hey there stranger, what brings you out here on such a fine day, and I didn't mean to startle you" she said, taking a seat next to the older girl.
She looked over across the way, and noticed a young boy attempting to set up a trap, an amused smile appearing on her face. "It looks like he's having a bit of trouble there" she said, "though it seems most younger children do when it comes to the traps, don't you think?" She felt a bit awkward trying to make small talk, it was one of the things she was bad at. She always kept to herself, and rarely spoke to anyone save for Violetta and Simon, but she decided to try.
|
|
|
|
Post by Eowyn Walker on Jul 11, 2010 1:30:24 GMT -5
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
For a moment, Eowyn’s eyes were trained on Lily. Curiousity passed over her features briefly—one, two, three seconds, and the mask was back: unfazed. Turning her head, she looked the younger girl up and down, smiled hazily. “Lily,” she said that that slow, indolent way of hers. Tracing wooden bars of the bench she sat on, Eowyn gave no invitation—looked more like she wouldn’t really mind if the other girl joined her, but cared neither way.
Sometimes she watched Lily—or, not watched quite, because she didn’t make a conscious effort about it, hadn’t a real reason, but was sort of curious in a strange, analytical manner with which she seemed to approach everything. But she wasn’t interested actually, more… lazily, because this didn’t really matter, nothing did, and it wasn’t fueled by anything but Eowyn’s boredom. In that same way she wondered, just for a moment, if Lily noticed—if she, like, minded. Not that it would change anything, she knew, and, gaze returning to the courtyard, her expression was muted, undecipherable.
In her own time Lily settled down on the bench, and it was the first time they’d ever sat together (a strange thing to think, so insignificant, but maybe that’s why it felt like a beginning). The air settled thickly, warm and muggy and almost suffocating, made her feel they ought to be holding hands and sharing sweets, and if they were in town she’d have nicked them cherry lollies, just because. It’s the sort of thing she might’ve done with Lynnette, long ago—seemed so out of character she couldn’t have done it with anyone else. But of course, whether it would come or not, this wasn’t a day for reconciliation.
Anyway, Lily was not Lynette. She could hear an uncertainty in the other aristocrat’s voice; they were, after all, an awkward pairing: Lily—who Eowyn had watched lead their fated rebellion, who indulged in a quiet benevolence and easy idealism—seemed so different from her. (More naive, she thought, or maybe just more human.) Vaguely, she considered other moments, flashes occasionally caught sight of, when Lily had the sort of look she’d never have imagined her capable of—she looked as miserable as anyone (before they’d taken the orphanage, that is, and it must’ve said something about them, that even their leader was unhappy). If she were like everyone else—all gauzy impressions, tangible and fluctuating, because even Eowyn’s hate had a precision to it—perhaps she’d find it poignant, but instead she could feel only curiousity.
For a while, Lily had been talking, and often this was the point in a conversation where she might, like, start counting the iron rails or something, if she didn’t feel like having a laugh. Her toes tickled against the blades of grass, movements idle, and she considered letting the other girl continue talking to herself, but it was the tentative way in which they were coexisting that seemed to change her mind, decide to engage—make an effort, in her own way. Eowyn turned, fixed her gaze—sharper now, eyes bright with actual intent—on her superior. “It’s alright Lily,” she said, smile impish. “You don’t have to be afraid of me. I don’t bite.”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
tag: lily
status: ongoing
words: 540
music: untitled #1 - sigur rós
other: none
credit: me!
|
|
|
|
Post by Lily Montgomery on Jul 11, 2010 14:38:57 GMT -5
"I'm really sorry, I'm just no good at this sort of thing, talking to people especially older than me" she said sheepishly, her cheeks turning a bit pink. She was trying her hardest to break the walls she had up when it came to the others, but it was proving a bit difficult especially when she noticed that the girl would observe Lily. At first, she just brushed it off, but the more she noticed, the more it unnerved her.
Perhaps she felt that if the girl watched her long enough that she'd realize that her leader was just a timid girl who happened to wear a good mask of leadership. "So what have you been up to this fine afternoon?" she asked, looking up at the sunny sky. It was a rare sunny day when most tended to be dreary and cloudy. "This seems like it'd be a perfect day for a picnic, wouldn't you agree" she said, looking towards the other girl.
There she went again, babbling since she was so unsure of what to talk to her fellow aristocrat about so she figured that sticking to "safe" topics would suffice until she got to know the other girl better. 'I really hope I don't look like a complete idiot' she thought to herself, her cheeks becoming a bit flushed due to embarrassment of not being as smooth in social situations as she is with other things.
|
|
