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Post by FORTUNE EMBERS on Jul 11, 2010 15:38:46 GMT -5
  • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •How sad it was that the garden was perhaps the only place in the orphanage thriving with life. But with life came death, and the decaying flowers overtaken by the strangling vines was proof of that. It was a place where it was the survival of the fittest. The innocent flowers were drained of life so that their murderers may live. Funny it was, then, that not even in the quietest, most peaceful part of the orphanage was only so because flowers could not scream like children.
He wondered if they hurt when stepped on and trampled over, or when you plucked them, did they strive to hang on to the little bit of life they had left? Or did they give in so quickly to wilt and decay because they had accepted their fate? He knelt down on the grass and ran his fingers over the blades. He remembered what it looked like, but his eyes could no longer see the detail. Pity.
Oh well, it's not as if it was of any real consequence to him. As long as he was able to go about his day somewhat normally, all was well. And he no longer feared losing the rest of his sight completely. The man that had caused him so much pain through the years was dead. Again, a regret, he wished he had kept him alive so that he might be tortured by Yuki-- but then again, he wasn't one of the cruelest in the orphanage. He didn't target all of the children. Fortune had been his only pet, and no one had really cared to know of his existance.
And he didn't care to know of theirs, even now. He wasn't a friend or an ally to the other children. Why should he be? Had they all banded together, they wouldn't have needed any help to overthrow their terrorizers. They could have been free so much sooner and without as much debt.
Sometimes, Fortune wondered why he even bothered to stay around. Perhaps he knew that no matter how much he still hated it here, life on the streets was far crueler, or perhaps old habits died hard. He still found himself laying awake at night, wondering if it was all a dream and that his "master" would return for vengeance. Sometimes, he feared that his spirit would come for him and kill him in his sleep. And sometimes, Fortune just enjoyed being able to do as he wanted to do without people giving him orders.
If one asked him what side he was on, he wouldn't answer. He wasn't a Derelict or an Aristrocrat in his mind. He was Fortune. That was all.
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Post by ZAVIEN KANDIL on Jul 11, 2010 16:15:43 GMT -5
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Zavien Kandil was crouching in the tall grass, watching with hints of delight while a little gardener snake coiled around his fingers. It was trying to escape, he knew that, but he liked the feel of the little scales moving over his skin. He was in no way hurting the creature.
The boy brought his hand closed to his face, though still keeping the little snake at a safe distance. Zavien knew that these little snakes were not venemous, however he still was not eager to experience the little teeth sinking into the skin of his cheek or his eyelid.
He watched the snake slithering, the little tongue flickering, for a few more minutes. Then he lowered his hand and let the small creature escape him.
Now what?
Zavien disliked being in the orphanage when the weather was nice. The other orphans disliked him, distrusted him because he hand't been with them from the start, had never been abused by the staff. He'd arrived about a month after the uprising.
He would have confronted most of those children by now if he was not so thankful for their taking him in. Zavien had been living on the streets for a majority of his life. The boy survived the streets and alleyes of London on his own since he was about the age of fifteen.
An ache bloomed in his chest as he remembered those days alone. His family had passed away, one by one over the years. And around a year and a half ago, he had lost his last family member to a disease. They had not even had enough money to consult a doctor, to know what the disease was called.
Zavien was lucky that it had no been contageous, was lucky to be alive. In the early days however, he did not feel so lucky at all. He'd been completely alone, fearing for his life every day of his existance. The orphan had needed to steal in order to survive.
He shook his head, ebony hair swinging along with the motion. Zavien pushd it out of his eyes and looked up just in time to catch sight of another orphan walk by. Dark eyes widened as he allowed himself to take in the details of the stranger. A girl?
Zavien squinted. A very flat chested girl.
But she was quite lovely. He'd seen her around, even though he did not really take the time to interact with the other orphans. He did so when it was necessary for their group, the Derelicts. Luckily mingling as not often a requirement. Zavien was almost certain that the girl was staying in the East wing.
The boy pulled himself up to his full height, blew some dark hair out of his equally dark eyes, then spoke, "Good afternoon."
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Post by FORTUNE EMBERS on Jul 12, 2010 1:53:32 GMT -5
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • A voice called to him as he sat, mulling over the justification between life and death. For the first moment, he paid it no mind, believing it to be the wind howling and whispering across his face. But soon the illusion vanished and he was left there with his intruder. An intruder whose face he could not see, but whose sillouhette clearly formed in front of him.
At first he wondered just who this boy was: friend or foe? The tone of his voice certainly held no malice. And yet, Fortune knew all too well that even those with the kindest words could leave the cruelest scars. A soft breath left his dry throat and he blinked his unseeing eyes. For him, it was like staring through an old, stained piece of glass- the contents were so blurry that no detail could be seen, and the color was starting to fade along the edges.
His left eye, was worse than his right, but his right had not had a candle held to it to see if it would glow in the fire. No longer did he dwell on the thought-- instead, words formed on the tip of his tongue. Words that he would later question if they should be said- simple words that to most wouldn't mean a thing, but to himwere a way of letting the boy in, if only a little.
"Good evening," he replied in his gentle tone, a soft, sweet voice that betrayed the boy it belonged to. Nothing about his outward appearance would leave anyone with the impression his soul was torn. He wasn't battered or bruised. His body carried no obvious signs of the torture he had endured during his many years. No, to anyone just looking at him he must appear quite normal. Like a pretty little girl, a fairy princess waiting for her prince to come in this poor excuse for a garden.
And his castle, the orphanage, was just the prison in which he resided. The dragon was slain, but his shackles still held him steadfast. He couldn't leave, or maybe he just didn't want to. Maybe inside he enjoyed this torture. His body had been trained to take whatever was thrown at him, he'd learned to find the pleasure in the pain, but his mind wasn't so corrupted that he wanted it-- did he deserve it, then?
The fact he couldn't figure out how to answer that question was the most disturbing fact of all.
What if they had all deserved it?
"Funny, not many just approach people here. I don't believe I've met anyone whose greeted me with 'good evening' before." he said with that same honey-sweet smile. "You're strange... what's your name?" he continued, no hint of malice was shown, though he didn't trust this stranger. Not yet.
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Post by ZAVIEN KANDIL on Jul 12, 2010 13:59:35 GMT -5
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - A slight shock went through him when he first heard the other's voice. Not a girl, but a boy? Dark eyes widened and he reached up to rub at his own jaw. In all of his years living on the streets he'd seen many strange things, but never this. It was strangely...intriguing. Unconsciously he rubbed his palms over the sides of his pants -- his palms had started to feel sweaty.
A boy in a dress...
Why was he not laughing? Or being cruel?
Desire uncoiled in his stomach and he suddenly understood. Yes, it made sense. Zavien licked at his dry lips, and forced himself to keep from stepping forward. Now that he was aware of it, the magnetic pull to the other boy was almost painfully tangible.
"Yes, I am a little strange." Many thought so. His manners, demeanor, the colour of his skin... It was odd to them.
"Zavien Kandil's the name."
The hint of an accent slipped through when he spoke his own name, and he found himself rubbing a hand along his jaw again. The dry, calused skin made a soft scarping sound as it came into contact with the short stubble. Zavien hated having to shave, hated that he'd developed more quickly that a lot of the other children he'd encountered. However, the aspect of adulthood did not frighten him. If anything, he was excited for the opportunities adulthood would open up for him.
"What is yours?"
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Post by FORTUNE EMBERS on Jul 12, 2010 17:11:46 GMT -5
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • "Zavien... I've not yet met you," he said, more to himself than to the boy in front of him. He couldn't see any hint of what the other in front of him was thinking- the details of his face were left obscured. The flick of the tongue, the knit of the brows-- any indication as such was unnoticed by the unseeing boy.
Fortune pushed himself from the ground, hands tangling in the long grass as he did so. From earth to air, he rose in a fluid motion. Even so, he was no where near the other male's height. Standing at barely 5'0", Fortune was considerably petite, even for the girls of the orphanage his age. Nothing could be blamed on that but genetics. No amount of wishing had made him taller.
All in all, he was quite at a disadvantage should he ever try to engage in a physical fight. No matter, though. He had no intention of doing so. If he was to fight, it would be underhandedly. Even so, it was easy to imagine just how a grown man was easily able to overpower him-- that is, if anyone had a clue. No one knew of him. At least, not truly.
Being raised since he was five years old in the orphanage, one would think that he would have had more friends- at least people to relate to and trust, but nothing. He was locked away, caged, separated from the rest. They knew not of him nor he of them. He wondered if he had preferred it that way. He didn't care for the children at the orphanage.
Yet this newcomer seemed a bit different to him. He blinked very slowly as he tried to think of what to say next.
Perhaps he would talk to this boy, simply because he wasn't one of the rest of them. "I am Fortune," he gave no last name. Embers... he didn't want to think about why he had been gifted with that name by that man.
What had been his name once upon a time? He couldn't remember anymore, no matter how hard he tried. It just wouldn't come to him.
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Post by ZAVIEN KANDIL on Jul 12, 2010 19:57:05 GMT -5
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He watched as the other boy rose from the grass, watched as the dress moved over the other male's body. Fortune was so very effeminate. It made sense that Zavien would be attracted to him yet had never looked twice at any other males. In Zavien's eyes...this boy was breath taking. His fingers twitched with the need to touch the lace of the dress, or that smooth skin, the fine hair. A groan tried to fight its way out of his throat.
Then something registered in his brain, and it was enough to momentarily distract him from his want for the boy. Why had Fortune only realized after hearing his name that he hadn't met Zavien before? Sure it was a unique name, but Zavien's appearance was quite unique as well. There weren't many with his dark skin, his dark hair and eyes, in this part of the world.
His brow pulled together in puzzlement, and he took a step closer to the effeminate male. "You would not have remembered my face?" Zavien did not bother hiding the curiosity from his tone. Dark eyes washed over Fortune as he waited for his answer, taking in every possible detail.
The desire returned with a vengeance, and he rubbed a hand over his jaw in frustration. Zavien was not the type to force himself on someone. He could not, would not break that personal rule now. The boy shifted his weight from foot to foot, far too tense to stay still. He needed to release energy somehow.
"That is a pretty name, Fortune..."
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Post by FORTUNE EMBERS on Jul 12, 2010 20:21:28 GMT -5
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • That was a strange response. Should he remember seeing this boy's face? Would there be something unique about him? Did he not blend in with the others? Fortune subconciously fiddled with the hem of his dress, though he wasn't looking down-- it made no difference if he did or didn't.
"Most likely not," he said, his hand now moving up to thread the fingers through his long, dark hair. "I don't remember faces that well," the excuse slid off his tongue easily. He didn't like people knowing the fact he couldn't see well. That is, at least until he decided if they were friend or foe. most were foe, and they couldn't know his weakness.
Blinking unseeingly, he stared at the boy, just a little dazed. "You think so? Hmm, so did the man who gave it to me when I came here. But I don't bring luck, if that's what you're thinking," was he being playful? Was he possibly flirting? No, it was just Fortune, and if he was flirting, he wouldn't have conciously relaized it.
Being near-blind, he could no longer judge people on looks. It made him stronger, though, he thought. He could never be blinded by someone who looked angelic yet had the devil's soul. "Would you like some tea? I came into the garden to get some herbs... but it seems that they've all been stepped on. I'll have to wait-- but I have enough to brew a pot if you'd like to accompany me inside."
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Post by ZAVIEN KANDIL on Jul 14, 2010 23:31:56 GMT -5
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Curiosity was written plainly on his face, and he reached up to run a hand through his hair. Zavien had believed that he stood out from the regular London crowd. Sure there were immigrants here, servants from all over the world.
Well...maybe he wasn't all too unique after all. Zavien scratched the back of his neck, "Oh I'm not sure if I believe in such things anyway..." And just then the most corny thought shot through his brain, 'You may not bring fortune to others, but I consider myself quite fortunate to have met you.'
His cheeks warmed, and he cleared his throat from embarassment. Zavien was glad that he hadn't blurted it out. Most times he didn't watch the words that came out of his mouth. This had gotten him into trouble on many occasions, and more than likely would continue to do so in the future. Zavien was outspoken, and was also quite stubborn in his nature.
Zavien's thoughts drifted back to the presend when the effeminate boy spoke of tea. He hadn't had many chances to drink tea while he'd been living on the streets. The possiblity to have tea every day..was one of the few things he loved about this place.
"Yes, thank you. I would like that."
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