|  Author | Topic: 9/15 Afternoon - Dying embers - Open (Read 110 times) |
Pyro
Weapon
Burn, Baby, Burn
member is offline
![[avatar]](http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v328/ditzyart/pearce40.jpg)
Weapon Zeta
Joined: Dec 2005
Gender: Female 
Posts: 44
Location: Australia
Karma: 2 |  | 9/15 Afternoon - Dying embers - Open
« Thread Started on Aug 28, 2006, 8:36am » | |
Wolf girl had run away. They all ran away. Phi always ran away, every time. Big bloody joke, the whole thing. Just how scary could he be? Big boogeyman, outtagetcha. Shook his head, feeling the ache in his arms like a sweet pain. Sparkle sparkle. Burn.
Dragging his nails along the scab, it broke open again as he scratched it away, chuckling to himself and shaking his head slowly. He was sitting on the table Rahne had been hiding under before, legs kicking back and forth like hers has. Slow. Beat beat beat of a different drummer, and can you hear the band, mate? Beauty. Bonza. Great!
"I wonder if the Ashes are on now, or if that's been and gone," he asked the room, empty as it was. Blue eyes flickered, glancing from side to side like he had an invisible audience. "Not that it makes much of a difference. We would've won. Beat the Windies and the Packies and the 'Deshies, and the Poms. Bloody Poms."
He shook his hand from side to side, flip flop like a broken doll. Marionette strings dangling, who could say what would happen? The puppet had its own desires, own thoughts. Bad puppet. Bad Weapon. Bad Pyro.
Whining laugh as he shook his head violently back and forth, denying it. No, he was good. He burned what he was meant to. He made the Joke work. He just wanted to burn more things, make the Joke better. That was all. All. Nothing more. God he wanted something to burn wanted to see it all ashes burnburnburnburn...
| |
|
Weapon Omicron
Weapon
member is offline
![[avatar]](http://i16.photobucket.com/albums/b48/muppette/kitty1.jpg)
Joined: Mar 2006
Posts: 22
Karma: 0 | | Re: 9/15 Afternoon - Dying embers - Open
« Reply #1 on Aug 31, 2006, 9:42pm » | |
She was wandering again.
The new schedule of this above world was so different it left her restless. This place just full of strange people that looked at her as if she was even stranger and Kitty wasn't quite sure if she liked it all that much.
Thoughts of doubt were not common place within her head. She wanted to stop worrying and just be happy that she was finally a weapon. Perhaps seeing her father again would silence all those bad thoughts.
"...the Windies and the Packies and the 'Deshies, and the Poms. Bloody Poms."
Having her concentration broken by the new voice, Kitty quickly spied the back of the blonde man's head and wondered who he was speaking to.
Padding over to the table, she peeked over the man's shoulder to see if he was talking to someone like Ellington or her Rupert. Seeing the lack of any sort of furry companions, Kitty used her spectacular deductive reasoning to surmise that he was speaking to himself.
Realizing she hadn't met him yet and knowing fully well that having someone to talk to is a nice thing, she didn't see the harm in butting in on his one-sided conversation.
"What are these 'windies', 'packies', 'deshies', and 'poms' that you speak of?"
| |
|
Pyro
Weapon
Burn, Baby, Burn
member is offline
Weapon Zeta
Joined: Dec 2005
Gender: Female
Posts: 44
Location: Australia
Karma: 2 | | Re: 9/15 Afternoon - Dying embers - Open
« Reply #2 on Sept 2, 2006, 10:07am » | |
Somebody behind him, and Pyro tensed briefly, turning around to look. A Littlest Bit. What she was doing here was anyone's business, but by the confused look on her face she'd heard him talking. Christ. Bad, maybe, part of the Joke, that was definite. Although in one sense she was eavesdropping on a private conversation, which was rude.
"What are these 'windies', 'packies', 'deshies', and 'poms' that you speak of?"
"People from different countries. Windies are from the West Indies, Packies are from Pakistan, Deshies are from Bangladesh and Poms are from England." He leaned in slightly, staring at her with insanity bright eyes. Blue as summer skies. "Poms are all bloody whingers, shiela. Take it from me."
| |
|
Weapon Omicron
Weapon
member is offline
Joined: Mar 2006
Posts: 22
Karma: 0 | | Re: 9/15 Afternoon - Dying embers - Open
« Reply #3 on Sept 5, 2006, 2:18pm » | |
His blue was different.
Not like the water of the pool. Not like the ribbons she tied up into her hair.
His blue was layered with more than just varying shades of color. There was something else floating about in that blue that confused Kitty.
Something that looked almost familiar.
"People from different countries. Windies are from the West Indies, Packies are from Pakistan, Deshies are from Bangladesh and Poms are from England."
It was always the small things that could sometimes floor her. His answer had done just that. It almost hurt to think that she didn't know nearly as much as everyone else. All this extra information that she had no clue about, but it was common knowledge for others.
Was she the only one in the dark about everything else in the world?
"Poms are all bloody whingers, shiela. Take it from me."
More words that brought up more questions in her mind. It just made her feel even smaller.
Kitty hated it.
"I suppose I'll have to take it from you, sir." There was a laugh of uneasiness from her as tried to brush off the feelings of doubt that swam over her.
"My name is Kitty, sir."
Slide back into the routine. Slip back into what was most comfortable to her.
"It's nice to meet you."
| |
|
Pyro
Weapon
Burn, Baby, Burn
member is offline
Weapon Zeta
Joined: Dec 2005
Gender: Female
Posts: 44
Location: Australia
Karma: 2 | | Re: 9/15 Afternoon - Dying embers - Open
« Reply #4 on Sept 6, 2006, 7:03am » | |
"Don't call me sir. I'm not some toff, I'm just a bloke," Pyro said, waving off her polite niceties with a flip of his hand. It meant nothing to him, and made him a little uncomfortable. People hid all sorts of things behind nice words. All polite and white like lab tiles. Colourless. No meaning.
"I'm Pyro, Miss Kitty Cat."
He stretched, before scratching at the side of his face where he could feel stubble against his fingers. Probably he should shave. Maybe. If they let him have a razor again.
Disreputable bum.
"Don't happen to have a book of matches or a lighter on you, by any chance?"
| |
| |
|
![[Home]](http://s1.images.proboards.com/menu/home.gif)
![[Help]](http://s1.images.proboards.com/menu/help.gif)
![[Search]](http://s1.images.proboards.com/menu/search.gif)
![[Login]](http://s1.images.proboards.com/menu/login.gif)
![[Search This Thread]](http://s1.images.proboards.com/search2.gif)
![[Send Topic To Friend]](http://s1.images.proboards.com/buttons/sendtopic.gif)
![[Print]](http://s1.images.proboards.com/buttons/print.gif)
Logged