Upon hearing Leila's lengthy reply to his inquiry, in which she had included the information gathered from her observation on the Nowhereian they had questioned, Hakuren felt impressed by the perfection, with which she had counted all of the gestures of Mrs. Anaisiuol during the dialogue with her. Indeed, his prediction concerning the young girl was correct. Albeit taciturn in most cases, she possessed an ability to notice every little detail by using her natural silence to blend in with the surroundings, as if she were a shadow, and, if given the necessary time to remain in that state, could engulf more and more pixels from the picture before her, storing all she had gathered as encryption codes deep withing the crevices of the maze we call the human brain. A person as thin as air, unnoticeable by the average beings of any existence, was an asset, which could provide quite the income if placed in the correct location at the correct time. The young man felt pleased by the answer, although there was little he could use it for. It was enough to know how proficient his companion was at picking the small pieces, which the common folk would not think twice to pay any mind to.
"We should piece a puzzle together sometime." the lad tossed that comment in the air, as if he had not heard what his acquaintance had said.
Puzzle games were a sweet little pastime he enjoyed, yet rarely indulged in. There were other activities which piqued his interest far more than that wordless game of logic, however, the student found it quite stimulating and rewarding. In the process of piecing the elements together, one's thought process must rapidly create connections and decisions, whilst the eyes must be forced to bare witness to a meaningless mass, which appears illogical at first glance. This stimulates the brain, perhaps even irritates it, and places two plates in front of us. One may chose to leave the game or continue struggling to find the parts that fit together. Regardless of the choice made, the time spent in front of a puzzle trains the mind and provides a healthy food for its dining table.
Taking into consideration the type of person this solemn girl was, Hakuren assumed a puzzle would be appropriate for a bonding game. Already having noticed the potential she had hidden within her, he made a mental note to attempt a closer knit relationship. There were more examinations he intended to perform, but having her 'scan' from time to time in certain areas back in their world would provide him with the various intel he loved to gather and sell. Of course, without knowing her background and standing, he could not make a complete plan, yet using that little eye ability of hers would at least offer another detailed view of the world.
"About what you noticed during her speech, it seems that Mrs. Anaisiuol lied to us eighteen times. Fortunately, there wasn't any such movement during the important moments. She wasn't completely stiff either, so at least she didn't give us false information about the past batch, the cave and the siren." he spoke whilst walking, now in connection with the topic at hand.
"Time here is a bit irrelevant, if not completely meaningless, but I recon we spent a good portion at the gator's home. Lets just pick a house to infiltrate and be done here." Although he felt like asking around more villagers, their first visit seemed a bit prolonged and he did not intent to hold anyone back. After searching a house they would probably pick at random, he intended to meet up with his other two partners in crime, Leon and Mado, and head for the caves. If nothing came up there, they would simply head back and sniff a few more corners.
"In the meantime, why don't you tell me a little bit about yourself?" the young man suggested with a friendly smile as he and Leila strolled down the dusty road.
"I'm not going to brag about it, if that is what you're worried about." It was clear to him she wasn't, but common courtesy required that phrase.
Leila (post is below) said
”Noelle. Leila Noelle. Seventeen years old. Daughter of Joseph and Zora Noelle. 317 Westbourne Avenue.”
It took the lass quite awhile to reply, judging by the distance they had walked. This did not surprise the young man a bit. From the many occasions he had had the privilege to be part of her company he had noticed there was always a delay before any sort of response was given. Once more, a quite typical note of her character appeared to be giving brief answers, with the exceptions always existing, of course. Yet he found her retort displeasing. It was far too limited, far too shallow. There was the chance of this person being socially awkward and that possibility just seemed to gain more points and heading towards level Fact in the lad's ladder. This was bothersome to a certain extent, yet also proved to be an advantage, for him at least.
"I'm not an office worker here." Hakuren chuckled it off.
"I meant to ask it in another way. Like "What do you like?", "What do you do?","What's it like where you live?" and stuff like that. For instance, I like meeting new people, talking with friends and going around the city. By myself I like listening to music, reading the news, going around the Internet. Normal pastimes like that. I'm a psychology student, so naturally I have a taste for information connected with it." It was a short, little and quite incomplete description of himself, yet he hoped this would lead the girl towards the right direction.
"Now, what about you?" he smiled as always.
[This space here will/might be edited, depending on Four's(aka John's) reply]
They continued down the path, taking several twists and turns as they inspected buildings from the outside. Many alleyways they walked across and many windows they looked through, yet nothing managed to catch their eye. Abandoned, ruined, most houses were too dangerous to even come close to. From what could be seen through the stained filthy glass plates and the many cracks within them, the homes had an eaten floor and rarely a piece of furniture inside. It reminded Hakuren of an old custom in the human world. After a house got positively lifeless, a person or two might just accidentally find themselves inside and just by chance take, say, a chair or a table, maybe even a bookcase or a TV set if they're lucky. No doubt some of the locals had the same habit of 'getting lost'. Seeing as the atmosphere was so damp, it created bad results for the wooden roofs, a great number of which had already crumbled down upon the interior they once protected. Climbing up another small set of moldy stairs, the duo found themselves upon a level, from which they could clearly see the take. Light glided atop its surface, as if it were a silver brush, combing through the wild hair of a sea princess. A lovely sight it was, a bright flower in a dead forest.
"Say, Leila-san." Hakuren spoke out of the blue.
"If you have a nest with four eggs, where the mother had begun incubating after the last one arrived, and one hatched early, how many eggs would there be left in the nest?" And odd little question, on an odd little day, in an odd little village.
Leila said
"Three."
Her answer came quicker than the last. It proved only that she did not have throwout knowledge on biology and maybe hadn't thought much of the inquiry. The green-blue-eyed lad himself knew it was a rather ridiculous question to ask, yet he had hoped only a bit that she could answer correctly. This didn't cause her to drop in his eyes. It simply proved her knowledge did not extend as far as one of the possibilities suggested, rendering it completely useless.
"Wrong answer." he told her.
"If incubation began after the last one arrived, all the eggs received the same amount of heat, meaning that they should all hatch at the same time. If one hatches earliest than the rest, at a time it is not supposed to, it means it's a parasite, like the cuckoo bird. The chick will then push the rest out. So, there will be no more eggs in the nest."If he was with someone eyes, he would have never even dared to speak in that manner or at least not so early on in their relationship. He simply found that talking in that mannerism would be an easier way for his companion to understand the message.
[It's very likely that I will completely change this birdy section. I just have to get online at the same time as Four. -_-"]
Once they had settled the matter, Leila and Hakuren came upon a house, which caught the green-blue-eyed boy's attention. Apparently still in relatively good shape, it was a two-story building, on the walls of which blue paint faintly remained. Two chairs were positioned in front of a small fountain in the backyard, which lacked water, yet had become the residence of many small colourful members of the Nowhereian flora, whilst at the front was a small rotten white fence, which could easily be stepped over. A doughnut weather vane was at the very peak and pointed eagerly towards the lake as the wind blew towards it. What was eye-catching about this house was not only its better condition in comparison to its neighbors, but also the remarkable painted windows on the second floor, from which the light jumped, reflected in various colours. The front door was cracked open and let out a high screech once pushed to the side. Not a single soul in sight. No a breath to be heard. The sign on the door read "Mathema Family", who had not been around for awhile. The youngster recalled Mrs. Anaisiuol mentioning a man called Mr. Mathema, who had been known as one of the few eccentric individuals in town and Yonder's Professor. According to the crocodile madam, he had been a very handsome young man. With good looks and a brilliant mind, the only reason why all the village girls did not go head over heals for him was due to his strange mannerism, which he owed to his upbringing in the bustling city of Babuna. Still, as a young fish in a fishy place, the lonely female hearts still gazed in awe at him. He had been a charmer, the Mrs had insisted and spoke of his departure with great sadness, yet did not explain it in detail. It was one of those times when she touched her nose.
"Lets pay Mr. Mathema a visit, shall we?" Hakuren said and headed for the house.
Knocking on the door politely, he allowed an "okairi" to escape his lips and echo through the empty hallway. There was a long purple carpet beneath their feet with yellow stripes at the very end and numerous rips and holes. Every step taken created an irritable noise as the wood squeaked. No one had given it the honor of walking upon it for a very long time, thus it was giving its warm welcome, like a chirping little chick. The corridor branched out into three separate parts. To the left was the kitchen, to the right was the living room and straight ahead was the bathroom, or so it said at the very beginning, where a map had been pinned to the wall, like a valuable art piece. The black-blue-haired lad headed right. Entering the living room, he found himself in front of a wide open space, with light entering through the big tall windows. Books and sheets of paper, too many to count, were littered all over the floor, a consequence of the strong winds, which had most likely blown and shaken the bookcases, which now stood, for the most part, empty at one side of the room. A couch with a few chairs and ottomans were located not too far away from a pink polka dot piano, which most likely served an entertaining purpose for the guests. Above the musical instrument, on the wall behind it, was a painting. More precisely put, a portrait, and what a portrait it was. The human was at a loss of words. The figure portrayed was a tall, elegantly dressed man in a yellow suit. A blue-striped orange tie was tied around his neck and his shoes were a bright cherry colour. But his attire was beyond the point. That face. It could simply stun you in place. Nowhere was filled with many bizarre creatures, yet very few would imagine one could be as peculiar as Mr. Mathema. The man's head was nothing more than a big square root symbol, under which were located anime-like eyes, nose and mouth. The expression he was painted with was a slight smirk, which gave off the player vibe. Hakuren did not know whether he should have laughed at the sight or simply allow himself to remain in the disturbed state he was in after the first glance. He liked math, he really did, but to see the incarnation of it was, although not surprising, very very disturbing. There was always some sort of logic he found in Nowherians, but this being he could not fathom. How and what was a square root supposed to eat? Tree roots? Bad homework? From the portrait it was visible that the rest of his body was with human proportions, without any unnecessary extras, and bore ink black skin. He was truly a one of a kind character, this Mr. Mathema. It made the youngster wish he'd actually gotten to talk to him and not that old crock. Passing the initial state of disturbance, the boy cracked his usual smile.
"I'd hate to be in his class." he commented before turning around.
Curved wooden stairs, which looked promising, lead upwards towards the second floor.
"I'm going up. If I don't come back in five minutes...Oh, wait, time doesn't exist here. Well, scream if there's anything out of the ordinary." he told Leila. There was that little fact that everything in this house was probably out of the ordinary, but he didn't mind making the comment as such. Ever since the train ride and the first party, most of the elements of Nowhere he didn't consider extraordinary at all. The constant randomness of Nowhere had such an effect on him.
Having set foot on the upper story, Hakuren walked through a hallway of paintings, most of which were portraits of the Professor with different expressions and in different poses. It was one ridiculous moment after the next. What the home spoke about its lord was that he was a narcissist in full bloom, with a taste for colourful and beautiful artworks. The window frames were marvelously carved with a flower pattern. Wood-works could also be found on walls and doors. The carpets bore the delightful chaos of expressionism and the candle-holders were miniature statues of different creatures. Some were ice-cream cones with eyes and cat ears and tails, others were three-headed giraffes with long braided manes. After a walk through this peculiar museum, the lad held to a stop at a door, behind which he presumed were the master's quarters, as the rest were either rooms for tea or entertainment, or bedrooms for guests, which the human had entered and scanned, yet found nothing of notable importance.
The confines of the mentioned last living space were as expected of this rococo interior. The walls and ceiling were rich in decoration and artworks. Whilst many constellations were drawn above, accompanied by the creatures from the legends they connected with; below, on the sides, were paintings of a different character. They were simple strokes of paint on the walls, curving and twirling lines, which changed colour if you were to follow them along. It was far more humble than the self-centered gallery or the other sheets in the living room, like the one which revealed the everyday life of bread men working on the field under the hot summer sun, their surface bearing several cracks caused by the pangs of the blistering rays. The bedroom of Mr. Mathema was lacking in appeal, compared to the rest of his home, yet the gigantic double canopy bed slightly made up for it.
Weak light entered through the painted windows, the transparent curtains allowing it to pass and break down into the many colours of the spectrum. It was a wonderful sight, but the young man had not come to bare witness to something as simple as that. Waltzing through the room, he made his way to the personal writing desk of the landlord. Checking every nook and cranny, he could not find anything, other than some books about local flora and fauna, writing materials, empty envelopes and unused post stamps. This displeased the youngster quite. He had not searched a couple of rooms and traveled all this way, just to go back empty-handed. There had to be something more. Grabbing the piece of furniture, he pulled it forwards and to the side. Indeed, at the back of it there was another compartment, a small closet. Inside he found a notebook, shabby, its cover curling upwards, covered by dust. Nature had taken its tole on the little object. Flicking through the pages of the newly found item, it proved itself to be the diary of the head of the household, dating back to the first day he arrived in Yonder. Albeit Hakuren did not read everything word by word, he took note of a couple of facts as he went towards the end. One those facts was that ten Newt Years had come and gone for Mr. Mathema in Yonder. Unfortunately, the human kind the author mentioned as revolting and unsightly creatures, ones so filthy and absurd, he did not wish to come close to them. This could not help determine the precise age of the book, because the professor had left the village not too long after the witch hunt or so the gator had said. The further ahead he read, the shorter the entries got and the style changed along with them. The finely crafted letters became rash and sometimes even unreadable. Descriptiveness was replaced by blunt briefness. Gradually, it became less and less recognizable. This peculiar change of heart was explained in the very last chapter the square root wrote.
Professor Mathema said
Hello, dear wonderful self.
Today I write in rush once more. It has been long since I last wrote within this treasury of mine thoughts. Many events have taken place in the fair village of Yonder. One too many to count and of a caliber, perhaps, higher than even I, the brightest light of enlightenment in this forsaken corner of the beautiful Nowhere, could predict.
It was during an evening not long ago that they drowned her, the dastardly woman I have refrained from mentioning in a descriptive manner within this pure book. She, who was the witch of this town, has met her final judgement and has been sent to the depths of the lake. Her companions shared her fate. I was among the many spectators of this sight. A dreadful event it was, filthy and vile like her soul. She screamed, yet no one dared to listen. Pitchforks and hatchets and many more were raised up in the sky, as if there was not a judgement to be passed down, but a revolution to be made. It was an extraordinary occasion to bare witness to.
That woman had created much hassles and troubles for the humble villagers. She had turned into a hotdog and tempted many men into following her. Fortunately, I did not stoop so low as to drop my jaw at the look of such creature, who, despite beautiful in its curves and ketchup, could be seen through when looking at its eyes. Those two pits of horrifying evil. They were windows to the abyss. I caught wind of this trickery and was quick to escape the witch's clutches, yet not the same could be said for many of my neighbors. After finally crossing the line when a rainfall of peanuts came down on us, rather than the usual skittles, the uprising began and the flames within the simple folk burned like that of a soldier, ready to fight for his people. It was tremendous...How beautiful this hunt was...
That woman met her sorry demise. Yet...It seems I must face further turmoil because of her. I, who was among the few who did not bend their knee, not once, now have been cursed by that witch. Many Nowhereians have been drowning in the lake. Rumors speak of a siren's song. The witch's song. It is a curse. A curse, I say! I now face a terrible future here. A positively bleak one. Many of my companions in Yonder do not look at me with a good eye. I, who have always been different from them, who brought the light of knowledge in this ignorant town, now must bear the arrows of their suspicion. Recently, a rock broke my window, thrown by an unknown limb. I have also felt like someone has been watching me. A village acquaintance hinted at me the other day. It is clear. They are suspicious of me. Because I am different. Because I am fashionable. Because I am beautiful. Because I know more than they ever will. They shall never amount to anything greater than me. They shall never stand on or above my level. I see now. My attempts to be the sun of Yonder have reached their bitter end. I must escape from here. Quickly. Before I meet the same watery demise as that witch. I must save the beauty. I must save myself. I have to stop. I must fall asleep now. Tomorrow. Once I awaken. I must assemble all my things and hurry out. There will be a caravan at the town's square. With a bag in one hand and an umbrella in the other. I must abandon this place. I hope this beautiful house will forgive me. I made it into what it stands today. Such a lovely thing. Fear not, Jizzabell. I shall come once more, when all of the villagers are gone, when the siren dies from not having anyone else to kill. I shall come again and together we shall shine with out beauty. Now let us sleep. Thank you for protecting me from the rain once more.
'What a narcissistic fool.' Hakuren thought when he finished reading the last entry.
'He probably went on a long wet business trip. Then again, the gator would have noted his death, since she obviously had had a thing for him when she was young. Well, doesn't really matter, since the place is positively abandoned. Now, where was I...Oh, yes.'A few heartbeats later, a noise, similar to a gigantic elephant walking and causing an earthquake, could be heard downstairs coming from the upper floor. The youngster had gotten the idea that, since he had found a diary in a closet behind a writing desk, it wouldn't hurt to check other possible hiding places. Thus he had proceeded with turning and shifting different pieces of furniture, such as closets, libraries and cabinets. Of course, they fell on their very own and he had nothing to do with the matter. It was fortunate that he had opened the window to get some fresh air, otherwise he would have drowned, this time in a sea of dust. If Mr. Mathema could see his house at that time, he would have been horror-stuck. The human had turned everything he could upside-down, everything that wasn't too heavy at least. The beds were far too troublesome to even get to budge, but he did take the liberty of using a broom he found to check below them. In the loud noisy search for clues, the black-blue-haired boy, who now had the shine of filthy silver all over him due to the dust, stumbled upon a couple of indecent pictures and papers, which were a pleasant sight, yet he did not fancy taking them along with him and left them at random places. Other than those, there was not a single hint. This irritated him a bit, but decided that getting worked up over it wasn't worth it. In fact, he found it refreshing to have done some damage. It was his warm-up for the caves. Having discovered nothing new, the lad headed downstairs, the journal of the professor in hand.
'"Leila~ Find anything interesting~?" Hakuren called out as he went down step by step, the wood creaking beneath him.
"I found the landlord's diary, but there was nothing of particular significance inside. We should wrap up here and find the other two, unless you have something else you want to do." He always had ideas when a girl was involved, but wasn't particularly turned on, since his curiosity was currently directed elsewhere.
