Roleplayer Guild - Forum Roleplaying Games

While White-eyes was staring at Red, Leigh was contemplating on what to do when the child began to pick itself up. Looking at the golden eyes of the being, Leigh realized it was staring straight at her. It didn’t seem possible from such a distant, and apart from that, she was well hidden.

Crouching down, golden eyes followed her. Impossible. The shade hid her well and her peripheral vision was excellent so her body wouldn’t have been seen leaning from the tree even if it had been day. With the child’s eyes still staring unblinkingly at her while it stood, Leigh was sure now. The child really was looking at her.

Unfortunately, so did White-eyes and Red. Unbelievably, Red stabbed both of them using not only a short sword he’d withdrawn, but with his empty hand as well. He turned quickly after withdrawing both from the others’ bodies and ran towards Leigh.

My God, he’s fast. Avoiding a strike from his sword, Leigh slashed at his middle. He dodged it by leaping back from her. Red really was quick. But his speed was unnatural for a human. Leigh continued blocking his strikes and countered as well. Engrossed in her fight with him, Leigh tried not to faint from her earlier blood loss. She also didn’t notice the child crawling in the background, clutching its bleeding side.

Red was soon getting slower with each wound that Leigh inflicted. His arm was already nothing but a burden from all the wounds it received from when he used it as a shield. His sword thrusts were beginning to lag. Leigh felt herself slowing down as well, but she clearly had the upper hand. Her swordsmanship was above Red’s. It became clear that however fast Red was, he evidently wasn’t a fighter. Still, Leigh felt wary of him. Had it not been for his arm, he’d have died already. Also, his unnatural speed and agility had helped him dodged some of her strikes.

As they stared at each other, catching their breaths, Leigh asked him, “Who are you?” He didn’t reply and merely glared at her –the red of his glowing madly in the dark.

“He is a Neo.” The child answered from behind her. Red went still. Barring his teeth, he growled at the child before leaping back into the shadows.

“Wait!” Leigh went after him.

“Don’t!” the child shouted when she’d already run a few feet towards Red’s direction. She stopped her pursuit. Red’s scent was gone. He was probably already far away. Impossible speed! He couldn’t be human!

Sheathing her swords, she turned and walked towards the child. Kneeling down, she checked the wound and saw more coruscation. It seemed to be coming from the blood. As it was shedding, it was turning into sparkling dust. Frowning, Leigh drew a cloth and tried to stop the unusual bleeding.

“It’s useless. I’ll die anyway.” The child looked up at her; it’s eyes had become a dark green rimmed with the gold of earlier.

Gasping in pain, Leigh put out an arm and leaned on the tree next to the child. The sudden ending to her fight had taken away the energy she’d received from the exhilaration of fighting. Dizziness slammed into her and made her feel weaker. She’d used up to much of whatever little strength she’d had. So…tired. My body feels so heavy. Leigh looked back at the being and watched it as closely as it did her. “You are no child.” She meant it in two ways. The being clearly wasn’t human and now that she was this close to it, she could put no age to that face. One blink and it seemed older, another blink and it was even younger than earlier. “How old are you?”

“How old are you? You are not human yourself, are you?” Blood began pouring from it’s mouth. Leigh nodded but said nothing. She herself did not know her age but she was sure that she’d already lived a couple of lifetimes in terms of human years.

“Are you Zodiac?”

Leigh blinked. Am I what?

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The hunted runs hard, breaths coming raggedly through already tortured lungs. The running has gone on too long and now it is almost impossible to be anything else other than this broken haired creature. It felt blood ooze more slowly now through the rent in its side and one of its pads, that of the left forefoot, had been ripped some hours before. Each step is a rendition of pain tuned for the express purpose of making the hunters all the more successful.

It hadn’t meant to be caught. They never meant to be caught. It really wasn’t old enough to take note and understand the danger in scenting more of its kind in the band of the shapekeepers, the oath breaker, whomever it had been, had known to change to a hound and the hunt, despite it’s ability to flight and then to long legged endurance, had been on.

Others were called. Now they close in. The creature slips down a rocky slide between high walls of basalt, half way down, losing step and tumbling, rolling, coming to a rest at the bottom. More hurts, not just the pad. Blood is upon the slide but this is from the ever opening and reopening of the foot wound. They always bled the most and it had only been an hour since the hunt had come on.

The creature stands and holding paw high, shakes itself. It must keep the blood from the ground now. There is still a chance, is there not? Still a chance.

It has tried every trick it has been taught. It has doubled back. It has used waterways. It has even flown and then gone through burrows, coming up against a great toothed digger before making it out safely to the other side and back into forest land. Still, in the bottlenecked canyon, there is little left to use as a trick and it has a sinking feeling that its inexperience is the cause of its position. It merely had not seen far enough ahead. Luck, which must be fate’s master for even the most intelligent to survive, has turned his back.

Not giving up just yet, paw against chest, it hops three legged down the shallow grade and across the small trickling stream at the base of the canyon. Behind, the rattling of rocks tells it that the hunt is nigh. Panicked, it licks at its pad and then begins to run once more, for every moment alive is another moment where the tide may turn and favor may change from hunter to hunted.

Yet, coming to the narrow width of the canyon, it finds that such time is not allotted. Ahead there are shouts and the creature stops and stares up at the high walls of rock. With a moan of terror, it tries to change once more, just once more.

They come upon it when it is still furred, but it has almost managed feet and hands. Its eyes are shut and it whimpers in fear. Genitalia being male, still its voice is soft and high pitched and filled with tears, like that of a child’s. "Please… please… pl- please…"

The hunters know better than to have mercy on a demon like this which resorts to such trickery. It does not even look like them, not having the energy to make more than a half hearted attempt to be something more recognizable. The Cierli with them huffs and stands, taking his club from one of those who had followed him. Naked, as he is not inclined to take time and give this thing one more moment with which to trick them, he raises the club high over his head and brings it down upon the creature’s skull, breaking open the still forming bone and dousing the life as easily as one would break open a melon by use of a rock.

"AH!" Amel startled, hands reaching out and finding nothing as he fell heavily to the ground, his head hitting the desk next to his bed. He rolled over with a groan and cupped the back of his skull while he attempted to gain back his senses.

"What’s with you?" a laughing girl poked her head over the edge of the bed, not minding the sheet which no longer covered her upper torso. "Poor baby.." she crooned as she laughed down at him, not all that interested in the scowl across his features.

"There wasn’t any room," he groused as he gripped the edge of the bed and pulled himself back upright.

"Awe, you’re sleeping wrong then," she smirked.

"Or just sleeping, period," he responded to the look in her eyes as he lifted the blankets and climbed back in, her skin against his like a hot branding iron.

"Exactly," she purred as she drew him into her arms. Neither of them had classes in the early morning and his drunkenness had worn off mostly. Hers was still in full force, otherwise she probably would have been gone by then. Still, he was an eternal optimist and despite the exotic-dark beauty of her and the geek-thin, pale of him, he couldn’t help but hope that should morning come, he’d have a girlfriend out of all of this adventure.

If nothing else, he’d gotten laid. Sometimes, you just had to accept that things weren’t going to get any better than they had. It paid to be realistic.

__________________

‘What will my death be like?’ he thought- and knew at once
with abrupt certainty, that it would be just like his life:
... the same balance of bearables.
~Amis

Leigh had no chance to ask further questions because it was then that she scented them –more humans with the same feeling as White Eyes. They were scattered around her, all moving in the same direction.

“Help her. The Null are too many.” Leigh’s face must’ve shown her confusion. “White Eyes,” the being smiled. He was growing paler by the second. His very body was fading into nothing. Leigh could only watch as more blood and coruscation spread out. When the sparkling dust began surrounding her, she felt wonder. He was gone now, but he had done one last thing for her. He’d healed her.

“Help her,” Leigh repeated. Help who? And why?

Shouting from up ahead grabbed her attention. Standing, Leigh felt her body’s energy returned to her. She felt as if she’d had a good night’s rest. Leigh sighed. This is very bothersome. Looking back down at the spot where he’d faded away, she sighed again. I owe you for this then, don’t I? Very well.

With nothing to go on but the scents and sounds she was hearing, she ran further into the forest. With her strength fully restored to her, her feral instincts made her change form at the very last minute. Surrounding herself in light, she changed into a great wolf, her white coat reflecting the moon, her eyes glittering with the rush of excitement.

Coming into the clearing, Leigh held back her attack and observed for a moment thus making her anticipation build up as she paced. Many of the Null he had spoken about were there, all of whom were surrounding a young woman whose form though human-like puzzled her. Next to her, on the ground, was another young female except this time she was more like the being who’d healed her though no coruscation could be seen, just an inner light that seemed to be dying. The other was doing a good job of fending off the Null but Leigh felt her tiring.

Suddenly scenting a familiar smell, Leigh growled. The one that got away was among these hoard of troublesome humans. Dying. His running away from her had not been successful it seemed. Leigh smiled with pleasure; it saved her the trouble of killing him herself. To the Null that had noticed her pacing, she looked more like a crazed and hungry wolf indecisive as to whom to kill first. They grew weary as she continued her pacing, her smiling, and her purring. Leigh was beginning to feel the need to bite them to death.

One good turn deserves another, right Mother? Leigh thought as she lunged at the Null, tearing at them with her claws and making a path for the two females in the center. He’d healed her for this she knew and not for any sense of need to help. Nevertheless a dying request wasn’t something she could turn away from regardless of the intention. Reaching the two, Leigh looked down at the being on the forest floor. He’d healed her only to help this female. Why?

Still, now wasn’t the time to ask. With a pleased growl, Leigh turned back to the Null. To be honest (if only to herself) dying earlier had left a rather dissatisfying taste on her mouth. To actually be caught unawares...she was going to kill that child. Those red crossed eyes that watched her fall, the eyes that marked her a Neo was going to be the first thing Leigh would tear apart.

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They were surrounded. Countless shadows thickened the night so much the silver of the moon was obscured. There were too many crimson crosses this night that even though the ringed eyes were skilled they were still outnumbered. Virgo would have purified, for most of their enemies were only corrupted beings and not Null through and through but they had no time. This race was vicious, for although their bodies were frail and they bled and wounded so easily, they were quick and agile and they were great in numbers.

Atalantea gave a cry and expended energy, causing all those around her to be submerged in her invisible waters. She watched as they writhed in one last deadly dance before moving on to deal more damage to others.

They have been called, once again to restore the balance to this world and they would not fail. They could not. It is not their lives that were in danger should they fail but this world’s races. It is but fortune frowning on them at this time that the enemy happened on them even before they have settled.

She felt the presence of the eleven Zodiacs. She felt their strength flow through her body, feeding on her energy at the same time it fed hers. They were connected by the skies not to each other but to their cause and if anyone should waver, everyone else would sense it. It was this perception that had save them the last time. Libra had turned towards the Null and once they have felt it, they immediately killed him. That meant there was a new Libra now, the one unfamiliar thread in their chord. Atalantea looked around for Libra.

In her search Atalantea happened on the gasping Diwata. She was sure that she had healed the woman, why was she still in pain? Atalantea glided towards the form and it was only then that she noticed what the woman was saying.

“Leave! This is a seal set up by the—”

The silver of the moon burst through the darkness and illuminated the forest floor and the markings that had been earlier invisible. It joined the blood of the corrupted race, encircling them in a wide but tight circle. The ground did not shake, nor did the wind blow but for all of them who were inside that circle, Earth had almost ended.

Atalantea gave a cry as she felt herself being weighed down and pulled towards the soaked forest floor. She struggled but she seemed to be bound, chained to the grounds, her arms, her legs, her mouth, her wings... The heaviness pressed on her whole being as pain, as she had never tasted, enveloped her. It had been painful to have her wings ripped from her but that pain was nothing compared to this. It was cold. It felt as if thousands of needles were spearing through her body and then there was a severe burning feeling, as if a cruel pair of hands had pushed her into a river of glowing soil and then... even that had gone.

She lay there unmoving, unsure of her existence for the pain was gone but she was extraordinarily drained. She blinked and willed herself upright but found that even the gifts of her race were gone. They could not be gone, perhaps she was just too weak?

She saw boots come to a stop before her, she was laying on her side and did not have the strength to look at the person’s face. Instead, in the dimming light she had caught sight of the new Libra. So young... she thought even as blade passed through her middle and pinned her to the ground. Her blood stained the defiled soil and coated the soles of that pair of boots. They walked off towards Libra’s direction, dragging beside it, like an unmoving tail, another sword.

Not Libra! She cried even as she saw the sword glide down on him. Not Libra... she prayed once more but there were another pair of familiar eyes staring back at her now. She whispered his name even as the gold and silver rings in her eyes met and eventually faded into the color of the treacherous silver moon.

__________________

...some people are only alive because it is illegal to kill them...

“Look I shot the man, Reg Bufino, in the chest three times. He died before he even hit the ground. I’m sorry.” Al sat trying not to look annoyed in the supposedly comfortable chair of the department shrink office. She knew the chair was a tool of torture for all of them. They were designed to dwarf anything that was unlucky enough to be set on it and Al who stood at five foot seven was especially easy to dwarf. She had sat on the edge of the moss green chair at the beginning of the session hoping that she would not last enough to warm the moss green contraption. She was now sprawled on it, her butt cramping from having been stuffed into the chair for so long. The shrink, Charisse Cagat, had told her to be comfortable and she was following that to the letter. If she had to stay an hour and a half for this stupid psychiatric evaluation then she would at least be comfortable. “Ahh.. the human life is sacred and it wasn’t easy to kill the man. I’ll go to church and pray for his soul every Sunday for three weeks—” she stopped when the shrink just lowered her glasses and looked at her atop of them.

“We both know you’re not sorry.” Charisse said dryly. “And I bet you haven’t stepped inside a church in a very long time. Come on Drusilla, tell me what you really think.”

Al flinched automatically at the use of her full name. God she loved her parents but they played a good one on her with that name. It was a product of hippie parents... or formerly hippie ones. She still wondered how she survived high school with the name but she thanked the gods everyday that it wasn’t Sunshine Love or Butterfly or Moonlight or something equally sissy. She was just glad that Al stuck despite the blonde hair and blue eyes combination her father and mother gifted her with.

“Drusilla?” the shrink called again.

Al looked at the woman across her and sighed in defeat. She had been lying her ass off, trying to get the session over with but the woman seemed too shrewd to swallow half the bull she’d been trying to feed her. “Fine. I’m glad he’s dead. The bastard killed kids to get his f*cking rocks off, if I had to do it again I would. Happily. Or more since I got to kill him twice. What I did to him was nothing compared to what I really wanted to do.”

Al knew her anger was getting better of her but her frustration over the whole situation was somehow overwhelming. She had shot the man thrice when he was struck by the brilliant idea that if he attacked her with the butcher knife he held he could somehow escape. She would have loved to grapple with the man and break some serious bones but she didn’t want to risk it... and a child was locked inside his closet or basement somewhere, probably suffocating already. What was the big f*cking deal? He was a bad child raping scum guy, he refused to surrender. He attacked her. She shot him. End of story. He deserved it. The department should be throwing a f*cking party in her honor. Instead they send her to this f*cking psych evaluation.

“What did you want to do?”

Al groaned. Smart move. She had painted herself into the corner with that one. “I wanted to beat him up! I wanted the other badass prisoners to have a go at him. Something really painful.” She answered. “Look, seriously I understand that killing is not something easy to do but I’d rather go to sleep with his death on my conscience, somehow, than with the idea that another Helera is harassed somewhere.”
“You curse too much Drusilla, do you ask yourself why?”

Al’s brows furrowed at the question. “It’s the easiest way to vent frustration? Is there a psychological law against it?”

The shrink smiled and shook her head. “You’re too wound up, loosen up a little.”

Al frowned at that and looked at herself. She was sprawled on a chair and she needed to loosen up? She would have asked something else but the bell that signaled the end of the session rang.

She stood up immediately. “You’re not gonna recommend any sort of leave are you? Or transfer?”

“We’ll see... I notice your aversion to your name, do you know that—”

“Oh!” Al gestured at the watch on her left arm. “Look at the time, I need to meet my partner for a... very important meet. See you around shrink. Thanks.” She smiled, waved and run out of the room so fast she was sure her shoes had carpet burns on them.

She turned a corner and found her partner leaning nonchalantly against the wall, giving her a rather... pitying look? He handed her her fourth cup of coffee for the day before patting her back. “You’re always welcome to cry on my shoulder alright Radwell?”

“Up yours Karmody.” She elbowed him hard and walked ahead of him, leaving him chuckling after her.

__________________

...some people are only alive because it is illegal to kill them...

Leigh had been dreaming. Why…did I remember all that?

Her wounds were tearing at her as the seal continued to push them all to the ground, the very ground where she’d first met Atalantea, met her comrades in the Zodiac, learned of Diwata and her kind. She ignored the pain or rather she was already growing numb to it.

This was stupid. She was going to die again and still she would be unfulfilled. She had not even found her murderer. Blasted Neo. Leigh could imagine the girl, cold eyes staring disinterestedly, watching her die. Damn.

With a sudden pain, Leigh felt herself grow cold and desperate. They were all going to die. Not like this! Why? Damn it all! Leigh gasped as the link that connected them all shared the pain of the others. With tears held back, she gave up the fight.

Her vision began fading, with that Leigh succumbed to what she had done for a living, what she brought upon so many beings, her duty. Death.


***


The alarm rang at exactly 6:20 am. Stretching out her hand, Lyca stopped the alarm before the first set of rings ended. She had been up since five and was already dressed and ready for work. The alarm was just there to tell her when it was time to leave. The bus was going to be at the corner stop at 6:30 am.

Picking up her buttered toast and thermos, Lyca rushed to her door and logged in the security code before opening and closing it. Munching quickly, she pressed the button to the elevator and waited. By the time it opened, she had already finished her toast and was pouring her tea on the thermos cup.

“Good morning, Ms. Ashvrn.” Elliot, the resident elevator doorman, was as usual, dressed up crisply in his black and red-lined uniform.

“Good morning, Elliot.” Lyca quickly drank her tea and got on the elevator. As it was early, she was once again alone during the ride down to the building’s lobby. Stashing her thermos into her bag, she began chatting with Elliot about the weather and her latest lessons. This was already a regular habit during weekdays.

The doors opened to the lobby. “Have a good day, Ms. Ashvrn.” She returned the greeting, waved goodbye and headed for the exit. Max, the front door’s doorman nodded his greeting and said the same. Lyca nodded back and went out the door. Looking at her watch, she saw she had less than five minutes left before the bus came. Walking quickly, she headed for the corner bus stop and waited exactly one minute before the bus arrived. Getting on, she grabbed a seat on the second row and waited for the long commute to the university.


At around 7, the bus reached the university and her with some others who came along the way got off the bus at the North entrance. The University was well known not only for it’s excellence in the academe world but for the famous collection of rare books that had been the actual lure that led her to it. As a freshman she’d immediately done her best to join ranks as student assistants and now on her fourth year, had finally been promoted to Assistant Head Librarian. She had the keys to every bibliophiles dream. Of course, being Assistant Head, she was granted permission to even stay late (though sometimes, it got so late she’d “accidentally” stayed overnight quite a few times).

After checking if she was ready for today’s lesson, history of Qi – Warring States Period, she headed for the high school division of the University. Being something of a genius, she’d already taken up most of her required subjects for her course and was now taking her internship(?) in teaching.

Heading for the high school division, Lyca hoped that this time the teacher she was assigned was actually there today. Her evaluation was nearing.


Heading for the high school division, Lyca hoped that this time the teacher she was assigned was actually there today. Her evaluation was nearing.

__________________

Steve slithered out of bed, no literarily but darn well close to it. His body sliding onto the floor along with the several layers of Sheets he had on his bed. Pushing the sheets off, he laid there in his boxers; school was starting in 30 minutes, and he wasn’t even dressed.

Pushing himself off the floor, he picked up his sheets and put them in a pile on the bed. He didn’t really feel like eating or getting something to eat; which was probably a good thing considering he didn’t have time to.

Brushing he teeth and washing his face, he prepared for the school day. Today he made sure to put on deodorant, he had gotten several snickered at the end off class; It might have been because he smelled, or maybe it was on his report on how snail reptile reproduce.

The high school wasn’t too far away, and he it took him roughly 15 minutes to walk to his class and get settled into his seat at the front of the class; closest to the teachers desk. Taking out his pen and paper, he prepared for the teachers arrival. He was always excited to learn, and today was no exception even though he had been a bit more tired from his restless sleep.

Today there was supposed to be either a substitute, or some kind of assistance to the teacher. Hopefully she was nicer than the last one; the last one had sent him out of the room because he had though Steve was making fun of him with his stuttering.

Class was going to began in about a minute or so, so Stave pulled out a piece of paper and began doodling on it. He had always been interested in snake, and like to draw them; he girls though this was weird, so they left him alone.
(OOC I'm to young to be in anything but highschool, so i figured tis would be good way to know you. Teacher pet.)

__________________

She was on her seventh coffee cup and it wasn't even lunch yet. She doesn't remember downing half of it but work tended to... make her forget things. She had been handed a folder about missing college kids in the nearest university. It would have been what she would call the sh*t job. The job they handed out to newbies since everyone knew college people disappeared all the time for no reason at all... or the most stupid of reasons anyway. Most of them left for vacation, for their boyfriends or girlfriend, heck, sometimes they just party hopped and slept it off elsewhere for days. The police just ended up looking stupid when they finally showed up.

She leaned back in her chair and put both feet on the table as she tried to process what just happened to her morning. Somebody had to do the job and so she looked at the files and something about them bothered her. Most of them were responsible individuals, given their grades. They weren't those people likely to just runaway... they were the responsible type... but then those people snapped too.

She reached for the paper cup and frowned when she realized it was empty. She then crumpled it and looked over her shoulder and shot it towards somebody else's wastebasket. It fell right in and she pumped her fists in the air at the "three point shot" that made it. There was a trashbin beside her desk but she only threw three cups in it in a day. Someone, meaning her partner Karmody, was a freakin health nut and he always frowned at the amount of caffeine she took in... actually he frowned at everything she took in. Then again almost everything she took in was unhealthy... anyway, the man always took a peep in her trash bin and she had to listen to him nag about having a more healthy lifestyle. To make her life easier, she pretended to listen and he pretended she followed whatever he said.

She frowned at the idea and ripped open another pack of polos she always had with her. Although she loved coffee, she hated coffee breath and so she had developed the habit of chewing on the mints after each coffee intake. She thumbed two pieces free and flipped both in the air intending to catch them with her mouth. The first one fell in but the second one was caught in the air by her partner.

"What gives?" she frowned and turned her chair around to face him.

"We need to go to the university, we need to do checks on those missing people." he said and reached over to open check the trashbin beside her. He had to lean in close to her because she didn't move from her position. His green eyes stared hard at her as he found the content of the trash bin somehow unsatisfactory. She remained looking "innocent" and he raised an eyebrow.

"Wanna get a room Karmody?" she grinned and waggled her eyebrows in an exaggeratedly suggestive look.

"Shut up Radwell. I though we were down to eight cups a day. It's barely lunch."

"Those are three cups in there, I've at least four more."

"Liar, you've had at least four more than three. You're down to just one cup for the whole afternoon. Now get your butt off that chair, we're leaving."

"What the hell are you talking about!" she yelled as she stood and grabbed for her jacket hung on her chair.

"There are three polo packs in there. You average half a roll per cup, do the math."

"That is so not true." she denied.

"See? You're using 'so' already, defensive i what I call you. Now move your sugar and caffeine filled ass. We've a librarian to catch."

__________________

...some people are only alive because it is illegal to kill them...

__________________

[I am active in several role-plays at the moment and have room under my belt for plenty more. I enjoy any type and can create a character for many of them. Need something to keep my imagination in check, Heh.]

Amel Stevens was in his second year of senior-hood, complete with apartment, loads of old Alph Phi buddies who still let him come for the parties and to hassle the new kids, and a girlfriend who was more of a stress reliever than anything. The last was mainly because Amel Stevens wasn’t the type for relationships. He never had been. He’d been born a quiet child who had done more watching than talking and while he’d managed to cover up the fact that he would rather be silent most of the time with some social niceties, he remained uninvolved with the rest of the human race.

That didn’t mean that he wasn’t upset that William Cloche was missing. The kid had been on his first year, had gotten himself inducted, had been kinda cute if you went for that kind of thing, and next thing you know, everyone’s putting up fliers over and next to the fliers that stated "Miranda Byers" who had disappeared only three weeks before.

So no - he wasn’t untouched by the issue. He wasn’t a ball of tears either. He was, on some level, very distrubed, however. It didn’t fit in the way of things. Something deep within him felt the Wrong of it all. People didn’t just disappear without permission to do so.

Oh, well, sometimes they did. But not in his general vicinity and not anyone he knew. That was the major difference. This was in the news and he was one of those who was slated for questioning and things just seemed Wrong - as if they were tipping an iceburg over on its tip.

Lots of effort to move a burg upside down. Inhuman effort and all that. Just to find two bodies or two people.

He rubbed the back of his girlfriend and kisses her bare shoulder blade as he got out of bed and headed into the bathroom. His lower back ached, just over his kidney. It was some.. stupid pain that no one could explain and it didn’t happen often. But lately, after the disappearances, it had started to ache more than usual. A hot shower generally took care of it. More so, when the hot shower became an activity for two, which, if he were loud in singing an Artist-Formerly-Known-As-Prince song, was an almost inevitability.

Amel was a small boy-man. At twenty two years of age, he had finally given up on the idea that he was going to grow any higher than his five foot nine status. His family was all tall, but his grandmother was a midgit so he figured he was a throw-back. It was okay. He’d come to terms with it. He didn’t have any weird short man complex either where he needed to go for girls who were six foot five just to prove his dick was up to the challenge.

For a long time, though - his masculinity had been in question. That was part of the problem, he thought. He was of a very slender, effeminate shape with small shoulders and delicate bone structure. He’d have made a killing as a drag queen if he’d been so inclined. Eyes too large and dark enough to seem almost black, lashes longer than most girls’, long, delicate fingers, and a small, bud like mouth.

He’d almost grown a beard when he’d started to grow one in, except it made people look at him twice, as if they weren’t sure if he was a guy or a girl and had to keep staring to figure out. At least, without one, he looked like he was sixteen and they figured he’d still had some growing to do.

When singing "Purple Rain" had no effect, he figured the booze had won out for the morning and got himself dressed in record time. Without pre-class activity, he had time to head to the student building and pick up some coffee and a scone. He snagged his bag off of the back of the kitchen chair and made his way to the campus.

__________________

‘What will my death be like?’ he thought- and knew at once
with abrupt certainty, that it would be just like his life:
... the same balance of bearables.
~Amis