-Drawn while listening to OSI - Home Was Good on loop-
(From a snippet I wrote before NaNo - Sometimes I just see this stuff in my head so damn clearly and I've gotta sketch it)
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...with that, a silence fell between them like a wall – a mutual unspoken agreement to just drop the subject entirely. Then there was only the crunching of their footsteps through the darkness. Elliot sped up a touch, getting a little ahead of him, but of course she couldn’t outpace him for long and he caught up alongside again, still quiet but still not entirely letting her be. If the argument was truly over, she wished he’d go do something else.
But no. He was never good at just bowing out gracefully. Even now she was sure he was just searching for the most devastating last word to throw in.
She sped up again. He made it look easy when he slipped back into lockstep beside her. A little ahead of her again. Damn his long legs. And then out of the corner of her eye she caught him glancing down, tilting his head just enough to peer past the edges of his goggles and past his hood.
She stopped in her tracks, grinding gravel under her heels.
He stopped, too.
“All right.” She crossed her arms, mentally preparing herself for whatever it was that he’d come up with. “What?”
One hand lifted, gestured at her. He tilted his head the other way. “Your mask,” he said. “There’s a… the catch is a little loose.”
“What?” Her hand went to the side of her face, feeling for it. She couldn’t find what he meant. But damn if it wasn’t a bad time for her mask to come loose. “Where?”
“It’s just…” He reached out a hand, pulled it back, and then, almost awkwardly, “May I--?”
“Sure. You know what? Sure.”
He stepped up and dropped immediately to a crouch. With one hand he nudged her hood back and with the other he reached alongside her face to adjust the strap near her jaw. He was right, she could suddenly feel it tightened and secured and it was much better. He gave it a little tug, just to make sure, and it held.
“I thought you were stopping to argue with me again,” she said.
“No.” He didn’t look up at her, and she could only barely see his eyes through the tint of his lenses. He was focused on making sure the rest of her gear was on correctly, just like he had when she was a kid who kept forgetting at least one buckle or snap before trying to go outside. Old habits die hard. “You’re right,” he continued. “I could have been a bit more polite with your father. It’s just that—”
“You’re scared.”
He stopped.
“The -sky blew up-, Heinrich. That’s certainly never happened before. Of -course- you’re scared. You’re on edge and Errick’s kicking your ass to figure out what happened. I get it. Doesn’t make it right. Doesn’t mean I’m not mad at you a little. But I get it.”
His eyes flicked upward then, met hers. He was quiet for a long, long moment.
“What I want to know,” she continued, “is exactly -what- you’re scared -of-. You don’t get scared. Not like this. You think you’re hiding it, but you’re worried.” And then, “Does it have to do with my mom?”
The silent stare continued. Then he looked away. Very, very quietly, barely audible under his mask, he whispered, “How dare you grow up…” She almost didn’t hear it.
And then he pulled his hands away and stood up again.
This is a journal I did for creative writing so she’s messy but I loved writing this and I kinda want to work a bit more on this. Here is the song this piece is based on. Its high-key a bop. Enjoy!
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The moment he stepped into the kingdom, they knew who he was. Black hair and dark skin with eyes that held a storm powerful enough to destroy a city.
"That’s the Solider," one whispered as he stepped past, his black cloak almost swiping a few townspeople in the face as their noses were so close to his boots, observing his mighty sword seethed at his hip and a silver helmet tucked under his arm.
Behind him followed the Poet, small frantic steps in a struggle to keep up with the long strides of the Soldier's. Fluffy blonde hair with a sort of cowlick at the top, eyes blue as the sky and sea. His own cloak, although much shorter and plainer, swayed with his hurried step.
The townspeople expected the third to arrive behind the two, but he did not. So they form a small crowd and follow the Solider and Poet as they travel through the city. Through the market, through the housing, all the way to the castle.
The Solider knelt at the foot of the King who cast his gaze downward at him. The King's eyes found the Poet's and he quickly remembered his place. Swiftly, he came to his knees.
"Rise," the King commanded, and the two rose from the ground. "State your business."
"Your majesty," the Poet started before he was cut off by the Solider.
"We've come for your land."
The King scoffed. "And who exactly is here to claim my land?"
"Pardon, perhaps I should have introduced myself. My name is Rion Ryze-" The King's eyes go wide, and the Solider knows that he doesn’t have to speak any further. But he does. "- King of The Land of Blue Roses."
The townspeople gasped. The third had arrived after all.
"The Ruler."
"So he truly has come to tear our city down."
"O lei," one mumbled.
"O lai," another cried under their breath.
"O Lord," the Poet finished. He turned his head to address the townspeople and whispered an apology as the Solider unsheathed his sword and just as swiftly behead the King. Some people scream, some people sob, some people remain silent. Rion bends down and grabs a fist full of the King's hair through his crown and slowly turned to face the crowd. The Poet watches the familiar grin spread across Rion's face as he turned and the Poet bowed his head in silent prayer for the King.
Visual Writing Prompt # 11: Patterns The Visual Writing Prompts on the site are meant to inspire you to get writing. You can use them any way that you would like.
Visual Writing Prompt # 11: Patterns The Visual Writing Prompts on the site are meant to inspire you to get writing. You can use them any way that you would like.
WOO GOT IT DONE. Sometimes I like writing around quotes I hear my OC’s say. This happens to be one of them XD
Some background for this writing that probably won’t help much:
It takes place sometime during my original sci-fi story The Binding of Stories (read the first part here) more towards the end. The main character Barret has just gotten the ~10 year old Zane back from the hospital after finding out some good news about his upcoming new career. Zane had been beaten by his parents -whom he originally ran away from- and is recovering from his injuries. Barret is the only one he trusts and Barret keeps on regretting that he forgot that Zane existed after what had happened in the past (that being a promise to a late pregnant girlfriend to take Zane away from his parents). Barret’s psychic powers are bothering him since he thought Zane was being taken away and he started going back to how he used to be before his late girlfriend’s passing. Barret’s brother Chris has left him a message in hopes of inspiring him as he leaves for a mission. (and if you need further clarification, I’m sorry… bad at summaries sometimes XD; Try to enjoy otherwise? It is a rough, rough draft… tense is kind of everywhere)
The day had been a long one and Barret was glad that Zane was able to fall asleep. First finding out that he couldn’t protect the kid, second finding out that the kid had been there and everyone knew but him. The feeling of betrayal was rising but at the same time he kind of understood. Someone was probably looking out for the both of them. Still, the poor kid was sore yet and didn’t want to be alone. He just wanted to be with Barret. At least he got that.
This was the first chance Barret got a second to soak it all in though. Before it was just a sudden rush, a waterfall of information that happened. All he got for an answer was a note he didn’t get the chance to read until now. He turned on the electronic pad. It beeped, asked for a password, and then the first page showed up.
“Don’t take it for granted. Take it as an opportunity.” Chris was never good at opening a message. Barret knew this was just going to be like the old days. “Okay. Try it this way. He’s not a burden.”
He just blinked at his brother’s comments. How did he even know how Barret felt? The kid showed up out of nowhere, demanding to just see Barret only weeks ago. Zane actually got what he wanted for a time before he was taken away and beaten to a near death state. The kid was a guilt trip at the least. It was his fault that the kid was in such terrible shape. A promise never kept.
Barret gritted his teeth as he whispered to the tablet. “Says you. You’re not the one that forgot the only thing that should have mattered. You didn’t have to deal with what I did... You know how to deal with kids. You’ve always been better than me. If it wasn’t for Michelle… now Ashley’s haunting me again… and I have no one.”
His hand squeezed the toy he had grabbed earlier. The toy itself originally met for his kid, the last item bought with Ashley meant for their child – a stuffed deformed spider toy with the happiest little smile. He was going to give it to Zane in hopes of it helping the kid relax. Now thanks to Chris’s message, his gut was making him hurt all over. Feelings he thought he was over were coming back. “Poor kid’s still confused, hurt, missing her…” He hit the button to get to the next page. Maybe there was more to this.
“Think of this as an opportunity, a second chance. I believe it was Michelle that said something along the lines that some things happen for a reason. She probably worded it better. I wish she was there for you right now. Work ruins everything, doesn’t it?” Barret couldn’t feel more alone. Not even Zane being there made him feel better. It was as though his brother wanted him to leave or just die for being worthless. Some thoughts started coming back to him. The only thing that changed his mind was the kid in the other room. “I’m sorry. Take these gifts. They’ll help you. Go to that room you used to use as storage.”
Barret was confused once again. He understood that Chris was partial owner of the entire Shadow Organization complex but going into his place, moving things? Mind games and messing with his stuff was just too much. He walked towards the room and stopped before opening the door. The door slipped open and revealed a whole new room instead of the storage. A bed, some toys, books, little machines, and a few items he remembered seeing from Ashley’s place. He was confused, happy, sad, ready to just quit. All his emotions were getting to him. He looked at the note again and changed the page, trying to find an answer.
“First off, this is what you get for ruining my door. Michelle and Suzie may have gotten over it but I haven’t. I think it’s fair. I get to redesign a room and you ruin a door. About equal payoff I think. I mean, if Michelle didn’t get her own place here I think I would have just invited her to move there.” Barret didn’t appreciate that comment but started to realize that his brother wasn’t trying to hurt him but just didn’t know how to word what was needed. He went to the next page but didn’t read right away.
Did Chris honestly think that someone would let him raise Zane? It was obvious that was who the room was for. He saw that his parents wanted him back, saw what his parents did to him. They weren’t going to stop. The way he believed they looked at it, they just wanted to ruin both his and Zane’s life. Zane did run away from them but they would keep fighting him and eventually kill him. They didn’t care whether he lived or died. As much as he didn’t want that to happen, he had no power to stop it. But it was obvious Chris knew something he didn’t. He continued.
“I guess I may have pitied the kid a bit too. Reminded me of someone I knew once upon a time. My real mother tried to hurt me too, just not in the same way. Mom saved me. Also reminded me of someone I knew not that long ago too. That being you. You were broken and with help, you have started to recover and transform into someone that I will respect forever. Plus, from what you told me originally, the kid’s parents were assholes.” Barret couldn’t help but smile a bit at how Chris was writing this. He started feeling somewhat better. “When I found out they beat him in my facility, well I pulled a few strings to keep it simple. They broke the law and more importantly they did something wrong to an innocent. I know what you’re thinking. Don’t worry. He’s in your custody. They shouldn’t be able to bother you. I’ll just be the knight in the shadows. He thinks you did it. In all reality, you did. I just had the power to help.”
Barret now in Zane’s new room sat on his bed. He didn’t know whether he should cry or be afraid, a feeling that he once felt before when he found out that he was going to be a father. He went on to the next.
“I wish I could actually have been there to tell you all this but as you know… mission. That’s why this thing has to be so long. I’ll probably tell you about soon enough about this, which means a week or a month. You and I both know that the kid’s powers would have eventually resulted in his death without having any training. You are really ready to have your first student. If anything, I think you’re probably a few years behind having your first. I understand you’re still learning how to help people and yourself but I believe you can help him. You two can learn together. A perfect student and teacher combo. You’re going to be great at your job. You’re on the way to helping people like you wanted.”
He couldn’t remember any time that Chris ever said anything like this. Perhaps he did after Ashley’s passing but it just didn’t feel as genuine as this, even if he thought it was pretty poorly worded over all. He went to the final page.
“Mom would be proud. Dad is too. He’s just too busy to let you know right now. I’m the proudest of you though. Maybe next to Michelle. You’ve lost a lot throughout your life and never had a chance to truly share how you felt about it. You’ve held so much in without needing to. I think now’s the time for you to let it go. You deserve something nice. Don’t start slipping back to how you used to be. Don’t be that silent guy. It hurts you so much and I don’t want that. The kid isn’t trying to be difficult. He’s scared, alone, and honestly is in a similar state that you were in. He just wasn’t lucky enough to have someone like you in his life until now. I think you of all people understand this…”
Barret closed his eyes for a brief second and smiled a bit. Chris really was trying, even poking fun. He was being the brother he remembered. He really was living up to his codename of white knight.
“It wasn’t until recently that I realized how hard you had it as a kid. I’m sorry for not understanding then. I think I do moreso now. Now, relax. He may not be the son you and Ashley were expecting so many months ago. Just trust me. She would hate you turning back into who you were before you met her. Michelle would hate that too. Zane doesn’t understand that that person exists.”
“Zane loves you. Don’t forget that. Perhaps you were meant to be his dad all along. Congratulations.”
Barret didn’t know what to say or what he would do when his brother returned. First it would be Michelle to share the news with, then Chris to just probably thank in a way he would figure out later. Things were changing. He was excited, scared, but most importantly he felt like he was starting to do something good. Everyone else was right. Barret didn’t know he could feel like this. He didn’t know that he could do something besides fight and kill.
Haven't seen my dad in 6 years -- he wasn't locked up. Nor did he abandoned us, more like kidnapped. Or, better term manknapped??? Growing up, I've always saw my dad as hero, superman's stunt man in the movies, you kno' Dad! I didn't know what he did, who took him. Its all blurry now but I always knew he would come back. Its been sad and lonely at times. Missed father - daughter dances, learning how to drive, and even the being the annoying dad and nag about dating. My mom, tried to be a solidier but days she would just cry. I would have to be the big girl for the twins -- james and jonae. It was just tramatic. Yeah, the cops searched and searched. As I grew, vengenance and anger seeped in. I wanted to find the person and hit. My violence of course magnified to the point where my sole goal was to hunt and possibly kill. Now, I'm 25. The age is different but so is the girl. I'm not so vulnerable and passive. I'm ready to find my dad.
