Post by Kira & Lee Norris on Aug 8, 2007 20:38:26 GMT
Should she feel guilty?
Earlier that day, whenever she'd been up in Prof. Hoodham's office, she hadn't said much. She hadn't wanted to speak. She was incredibly jittery, and she was too scared to open her mouth. If she had... she may've been sick. She could actually feel her stomach churning as she sat there, soaking everything up...
And then whenever they'd met Parmida... Well, her mind had just shot straight back to when she'd visited Will that morning, and what her friend had been saying about the terrifyingly beautiful possibility of resurrection. Parmida was... what she was, Kira couldn't really tell. She was dead, sure, but she was also walking and talking, like she was alive as alive could be...
But how?
And the blooming tiger?! Well, that was just beyond her...
She'd been there, hadn't she? She'd been right there with them all- all of them so brave and ready to just fight. They were all going for it. They were all ready to go- ready to get Macy back. They were there now- they had been for hours! And where was she?
Perhaps it was Parmida... Kira was, quite frankly, terrified of her. The whole experience unnerved her. But she was already nervous. It's why she hadn't gone with Lee for that final moment of peace with Madeleine. She'd gone to see Will instead because... well... she couldn't face it. She'd told herself at the time it was only to be fair to Lee and Madeleine. To give them that last moment together, that was all...
She was a bad liar.
It was too real, she'd said it before. She hated to think about the fact that they could all be dying, right now. And then the living dead before her- meeting someone of both worlds... She couldn't hack it. She wasn't cut out for it.
Was that why she hadn't gone into battle?
Spies can't fight, she'd told herself, but it wasn't true. Anyone can fight. Anyone. Other people who weren't from the Warriors were going. People really... they really did care about Macy, didn't they?
They cared about the cause.
She cared.
She just couldn't bring herself to face it properly. She couldn't bring herself to fight. And although she hated to admit it, she was much happier where she was. More than that- she was actually laughing! The waiter she'd met was with her now that his shift had ended, and awful as it may sound, he was a brilliant, and welcome distraction from her own troubled mind...
Go back to the school, Kira. If you don't have enough of a backbone to go into battle, at least go and see if there's any news. Go talk to Lee. He didn't go to battle, after all. He didn't know Spies could fight. If he did, he'd be out there. You know that.
But she didn't want to.
Go back, Kira...
"Deron, d'you live in Cardsdale?"
He turned from the gang of birds he'd been terrorizing, staring at her with one eyebrow raised.
Her cheeks burned. "Stupid question," she mumbled.
"Would you care for a stupid answer?" he asked, not unkindly.
She fixed his olive stare with her ice blue one. "Shoot."
He didn't answer, just smiled at her, and threw some more bread at the surrounding pigeons. They hooted indignantly, flapping madly as they flew into the clear blue sky. Kira automatically covered her head. She knew from experience that when birds were angry, they pooped.
That was never pretty.
"I don't think they like me very much," he said sombrely, sidling up to her and sitting down beside her on the bench, watching them flutter away across the Square.
"No, who would?" she grinned, recieving a sharp nudge in the ribs.
"The abuse I get!" he muttered. "That wasn't very nice, Miss Norris."
"So it's Miss Norris now, is it?" she rolled her eyes. "Polite, are we?"
He didn't reply again, his eyes fixed upon a lone pigeon that'd remained, picking its way across the Square... closer and closer...
Kira watched its progess warily. "Don't..."
"Why not?" he challenged, his bag of breadcrumbs twitching slightly in his hands.
Why indeed? Kira cast about for an answer, then sighed, and said somewhat pathetically, "It's really immature."
Deron rolled his eyes, but then to her great surprise, he dropped the bag of breadcrumbs. Kira stared at him for a few seconds, a little unsure. He didn't look at her. His eyes were still fixed on the roving pigeon.
"They use them to carry messages, you know," he said suddenly, nodding at the little fat bag of feathers as it waddled warily closer. "During the early days of the war and stuff. Course, the enemy aren't completely thick. They've taken to shooting down any pigeons that come flying past. And these, their descendants- " he paused, kicking out at the last pigeon as it shrieked and flew upwards into the air- "are a waste of space."
"They do keep old people company," she said soothingly, nodding at a couple of pensioners crossing the Square.
He snorted, all bitterness gone in a flash. "Fair point. Bet you don't know any of their names."
"What?" Kira cried, flabberghasted. "How would I?"
"How long have you been going to the school?" he asked cheerfully.
She gazed at him, nonplussed. "It's my fourth year. I'm 15..."
"And in four years, how many locals have you gotten to know?"
"I..." Once again, she found herself at a loss. Growling, she shook herself, and glared at him. "Are you challenging me?"
"Maybe, or I might just be teasing you again," he grinned at her. "See, I can name 'em all..."
"But you live here..."
"So do you. Well, close enough."
She blinked. "Em... him over there... Mr... oh! He's Mr. Reed!"
Deron grinned. "Mr. James Alan Reed, became a widower last year, had two sons, both dead in battle. His favourite pastimes are snooker and smoking."
Kira rolled her eyes. "Alright, alright. She's... Mrs. Lyons."
"Mrs. Anne Lily Lyons, lived in Cardsdale all her life. She has two sons as well. One works at Orchid, and has a wife and triplets. The other killed himself when his family was murdered. She enjoys gardening."
"There are some depressingly grisly details in there."
"Is that a joke, Kira?"
His olive eyes were burning into her's again. Abashed, she looked away first, searching the square for more familiar faces. A girl slightly older than her, whom she recognised by her thick, chocolate brown curls was chatting animatedly to Mrs. Lyons. Kira narrowed her eyes. She knew her name... she knew her...
"Miss Kerry Morrison," Kira said brightly, nodding at the girl. "She works at the Heel-Toe Dressmakers. She was the assistant who helped me pick out my dress. She loves blue, and has two sisters. She lives with her aunt."
Deron gazed at Miss Morrison for a few seconds, and frowned. "She also likes to talk a lot. Incredibly annoying."
"You know her?" Kira asked keenly.
"What have we just been talking about?"
"Sorry!" she laughed. "I mean- you know her personally?"
"I know lots of people," he grinned at her. "I'm a right social butterfly."
She rolled her eyes. If she rolled them once more they'd roll right on out of her sockets. "You know what I mean."
"I do, I'm just mean," he laughed. "Yeah... darling Miss Morrison is my cousin."
Kira sat bolt upright at the very mention of the word. Deron jumped, staring at her as she looked on at Miss Morrison with a new, far greedier interest. But even as she did so, her insides gave an uncomfortable squirm.
Go back to the ruddy school, Kira... Go to your cousin...
Deron was now the one who looked surprised. "You okay?"
"Oh, yes," she said happily. "So she's your family? That's lovely..."
"Says you."
She blinked. "Oh. You don't like her much?"
"Understatement of the century," he muttered darkly, his eyes narrowing to greenish slits. "Her and her bratty sisters. Mum's at the end of her tether."
"Sorry," she said quickly.
"For what? You didn't do anything! You didn't blow up my aunt and uncle, did you?"
"I... no..." Why was he so good at that? Why was he so good at leaving her unable to respond to anything he might say? Anything he might throw at her?
Why?
Deron smiled unexpectedly at her, shocking her. "Do I sound scary? Dark? Bitter?"
"Mad in the head more like it..." she muttered, and instantly regretted it.
However, to her relief, Deron just laughed. "Get it from Dad. He was a right twisted old coot..."
Running his hand through his chocolate brown hair- so like his cousins, though short and straighter- he pulled a face.
"The pigeons are back."
So they were. They both watched them in silence as, one by one, the pigeons fluttered down to their original spots, looking about warily as they began to peck the ground once more.
He shook his head, exasperated. "They just don't get the message. Not like the old days, huh?"
She laughed. "Well, we'll just have to keep trying, won't we?"
Deron grinned at her, standing up and stretching. He turned, a wicked smile playing across his lips, and offered her his hand.
"Care to scare, Miss Norris?"
She took it, jumping to her feet, his wicked smile now reflected on her own face. "Very much so, Mr Miles..." She turned her gaze to the pigeons, eyes narrowed. "Now... whenever I count to three, get ready to run... One... two..."
Go back to school, Kira. Stop wasting your time here.
"THREE!"
Earlier that day, whenever she'd been up in Prof. Hoodham's office, she hadn't said much. She hadn't wanted to speak. She was incredibly jittery, and she was too scared to open her mouth. If she had... she may've been sick. She could actually feel her stomach churning as she sat there, soaking everything up...
And then whenever they'd met Parmida... Well, her mind had just shot straight back to when she'd visited Will that morning, and what her friend had been saying about the terrifyingly beautiful possibility of resurrection. Parmida was... what she was, Kira couldn't really tell. She was dead, sure, but she was also walking and talking, like she was alive as alive could be...
But how?
And the blooming tiger?! Well, that was just beyond her...
She'd been there, hadn't she? She'd been right there with them all- all of them so brave and ready to just fight. They were all going for it. They were all ready to go- ready to get Macy back. They were there now- they had been for hours! And where was she?
Perhaps it was Parmida... Kira was, quite frankly, terrified of her. The whole experience unnerved her. But she was already nervous. It's why she hadn't gone with Lee for that final moment of peace with Madeleine. She'd gone to see Will instead because... well... she couldn't face it. She'd told herself at the time it was only to be fair to Lee and Madeleine. To give them that last moment together, that was all...
She was a bad liar.
It was too real, she'd said it before. She hated to think about the fact that they could all be dying, right now. And then the living dead before her- meeting someone of both worlds... She couldn't hack it. She wasn't cut out for it.
Was that why she hadn't gone into battle?
Spies can't fight, she'd told herself, but it wasn't true. Anyone can fight. Anyone. Other people who weren't from the Warriors were going. People really... they really did care about Macy, didn't they?
They cared about the cause.
She cared.
She just couldn't bring herself to face it properly. She couldn't bring herself to fight. And although she hated to admit it, she was much happier where she was. More than that- she was actually laughing! The waiter she'd met was with her now that his shift had ended, and awful as it may sound, he was a brilliant, and welcome distraction from her own troubled mind...
Go back to the school, Kira. If you don't have enough of a backbone to go into battle, at least go and see if there's any news. Go talk to Lee. He didn't go to battle, after all. He didn't know Spies could fight. If he did, he'd be out there. You know that.
But she didn't want to.
Go back, Kira...
"Deron, d'you live in Cardsdale?"
He turned from the gang of birds he'd been terrorizing, staring at her with one eyebrow raised.
Her cheeks burned. "Stupid question," she mumbled.
"Would you care for a stupid answer?" he asked, not unkindly.
She fixed his olive stare with her ice blue one. "Shoot."
He didn't answer, just smiled at her, and threw some more bread at the surrounding pigeons. They hooted indignantly, flapping madly as they flew into the clear blue sky. Kira automatically covered her head. She knew from experience that when birds were angry, they pooped.
That was never pretty.
"I don't think they like me very much," he said sombrely, sidling up to her and sitting down beside her on the bench, watching them flutter away across the Square.
"No, who would?" she grinned, recieving a sharp nudge in the ribs.
"The abuse I get!" he muttered. "That wasn't very nice, Miss Norris."
"So it's Miss Norris now, is it?" she rolled her eyes. "Polite, are we?"
He didn't reply again, his eyes fixed upon a lone pigeon that'd remained, picking its way across the Square... closer and closer...
Kira watched its progess warily. "Don't..."
"Why not?" he challenged, his bag of breadcrumbs twitching slightly in his hands.
Why indeed? Kira cast about for an answer, then sighed, and said somewhat pathetically, "It's really immature."
Deron rolled his eyes, but then to her great surprise, he dropped the bag of breadcrumbs. Kira stared at him for a few seconds, a little unsure. He didn't look at her. His eyes were still fixed on the roving pigeon.
"They use them to carry messages, you know," he said suddenly, nodding at the little fat bag of feathers as it waddled warily closer. "During the early days of the war and stuff. Course, the enemy aren't completely thick. They've taken to shooting down any pigeons that come flying past. And these, their descendants- " he paused, kicking out at the last pigeon as it shrieked and flew upwards into the air- "are a waste of space."
"They do keep old people company," she said soothingly, nodding at a couple of pensioners crossing the Square.
He snorted, all bitterness gone in a flash. "Fair point. Bet you don't know any of their names."
"What?" Kira cried, flabberghasted. "How would I?"
"How long have you been going to the school?" he asked cheerfully.
She gazed at him, nonplussed. "It's my fourth year. I'm 15..."
"And in four years, how many locals have you gotten to know?"
"I..." Once again, she found herself at a loss. Growling, she shook herself, and glared at him. "Are you challenging me?"
"Maybe, or I might just be teasing you again," he grinned at her. "See, I can name 'em all..."
"But you live here..."
"So do you. Well, close enough."
She blinked. "Em... him over there... Mr... oh! He's Mr. Reed!"
Deron grinned. "Mr. James Alan Reed, became a widower last year, had two sons, both dead in battle. His favourite pastimes are snooker and smoking."
Kira rolled her eyes. "Alright, alright. She's... Mrs. Lyons."
"Mrs. Anne Lily Lyons, lived in Cardsdale all her life. She has two sons as well. One works at Orchid, and has a wife and triplets. The other killed himself when his family was murdered. She enjoys gardening."
"There are some depressingly grisly details in there."
"Is that a joke, Kira?"
His olive eyes were burning into her's again. Abashed, she looked away first, searching the square for more familiar faces. A girl slightly older than her, whom she recognised by her thick, chocolate brown curls was chatting animatedly to Mrs. Lyons. Kira narrowed her eyes. She knew her name... she knew her...
"Miss Kerry Morrison," Kira said brightly, nodding at the girl. "She works at the Heel-Toe Dressmakers. She was the assistant who helped me pick out my dress. She loves blue, and has two sisters. She lives with her aunt."
Deron gazed at Miss Morrison for a few seconds, and frowned. "She also likes to talk a lot. Incredibly annoying."
"You know her?" Kira asked keenly.
"What have we just been talking about?"
"Sorry!" she laughed. "I mean- you know her personally?"
"I know lots of people," he grinned at her. "I'm a right social butterfly."
She rolled her eyes. If she rolled them once more they'd roll right on out of her sockets. "You know what I mean."
"I do, I'm just mean," he laughed. "Yeah... darling Miss Morrison is my cousin."
Kira sat bolt upright at the very mention of the word. Deron jumped, staring at her as she looked on at Miss Morrison with a new, far greedier interest. But even as she did so, her insides gave an uncomfortable squirm.
Go back to the ruddy school, Kira... Go to your cousin...
Deron was now the one who looked surprised. "You okay?"
"Oh, yes," she said happily. "So she's your family? That's lovely..."
"Says you."
She blinked. "Oh. You don't like her much?"
"Understatement of the century," he muttered darkly, his eyes narrowing to greenish slits. "Her and her bratty sisters. Mum's at the end of her tether."
"Sorry," she said quickly.
"For what? You didn't do anything! You didn't blow up my aunt and uncle, did you?"
"I... no..." Why was he so good at that? Why was he so good at leaving her unable to respond to anything he might say? Anything he might throw at her?
Why?
Deron smiled unexpectedly at her, shocking her. "Do I sound scary? Dark? Bitter?"
"Mad in the head more like it..." she muttered, and instantly regretted it.
However, to her relief, Deron just laughed. "Get it from Dad. He was a right twisted old coot..."
Running his hand through his chocolate brown hair- so like his cousins, though short and straighter- he pulled a face.
"The pigeons are back."
So they were. They both watched them in silence as, one by one, the pigeons fluttered down to their original spots, looking about warily as they began to peck the ground once more.
He shook his head, exasperated. "They just don't get the message. Not like the old days, huh?"
She laughed. "Well, we'll just have to keep trying, won't we?"
Deron grinned at her, standing up and stretching. He turned, a wicked smile playing across his lips, and offered her his hand.
"Care to scare, Miss Norris?"
She took it, jumping to her feet, his wicked smile now reflected on her own face. "Very much so, Mr Miles..." She turned her gaze to the pigeons, eyes narrowed. "Now... whenever I count to three, get ready to run... One... two..."
Go back to school, Kira. Stop wasting your time here.
"THREE!"
