Post by Jude Dorrian on Jun 6, 2008 20:40:49 GMT
ooc: Ugh, it sucks, 'cause it ain't been modified yet, but whatever.
His acute ears had already heard every detail of her awkward confession, even though he was a good few meters down the path. The words were… wooden, at best- well-practiced, yet oddly… flat. Clumsy. Off. It didn’t flow with her usual animated enthusiasm, nor did it sound in any way… convincing. Her own guilt, he supposed, must have stopped up her throat; and caused those so clever clogs in her brain to cease turning for a change.
Christ, he sure didn’t want to have to do this.
But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t.
“Hey, Tameron.”
“Jude!” she jumped up from her bench as he approached; her guilty cheeks coloring. “I- er- well, y’all heard all of that, didn’t you?” Quickly, she laughed, as though it was nothing.
His mouth didn’t twitch. “I don’t really it’s funny.”
“It’s hilarious,” she dropped her gaze, sitting back down slowly. “Sort of… ironic? An Academic- who can’t pass a single exam.”
Jude wasn’t sure how to answer her. Well, sure, he knew exactly what he wanted to say, but at the same time, a horrible awareness of just where his boundaries began and ended as her brother hung over him. After all, at Orchid Hill, the siblings lived their two separate lives. Jude had no right to tell her what to do. And yet…
“You’re better than that.”
Her eyes rolled. “Well, gee, y’all sure are perceptive.”
“Didn’t you know it?”
“Sure I did!” Tameron looked up fiercely. “I’ve done great this whole goddam year- better than you-” her eyes narrowed, “ – that’s for sure!”
“You’re smarter than me.”
She snorted. “Well, hell, really?”
“Then… why’d y’all go and fail like that?”
Her eyes grew oddly glassy. “Y’all make it sound like I did it on purpose.”
Jude smiled vaguely, but didn’t answer.
She closed her eyes for a couple of seconds, a small “hmmph” noise escaping her nostrils. “Because.”
“Because…?”
“Because…” She was struggling. Maybe she didn’t have an answer. He’d heard her gingerly honing her excuses to ‘perfection’. The real question was: which would she pick? Her hand moved slightly, scratching her ear as she met his gaze with a glare. “I underestimated it. The goddam things always have been easy, I thought I wouldn’t need to bother. So… I didn’t.”
Oh, that was bad. If she was pushed to those kind of measures, Jude was certain he didn’t want to hear the real reason. And… yet…
“That’s a lie.”
“How d’you know?” she barked. “Y’all ain’t in my head, for God’s sake! Y’all can’t just… eugh, just look at me or hear me or just… know.”
“Well, I do.”
Frustrated confusion clouded her face. “How?”
“Magic.”
“Oh, for fu-”
“Tameron,” Jude cut in quickly. “Come on, this isn’t hard- why did you fail?” Fail. ‘Tameron Dorrian - failure’. It didn’t quite compute. It was like saying, ‘Jude Dorrian - pirate’. It was… it was almost blasphemes.
And there was another self-conscious ear stroke. “Fine. Fine. Y’all wanna know? It was a guy. Happy? I have a boyfriend, and spent all my time with him instead of revising!”
Jude’s eyebrows rose. “You like Frank; and last I heard, he was going out with Carol.”
She pouted. “No, he ain’t.”
“Sure he is.”
“They broke up.”
“Really?”
“Some of his friends shouted he was done with her at her yesterday in the hall.”
“Prick!” Jude scowled. “There are some real pieces of works out there… Better off without him, Tam.”
“I don’t ruddy like Frank anymore!”
“Too right. He’s no good for you.”
“Jude!”
“Sorry,” Jude privately scolded himself for his distraction. “Why are you lying, then?”
She flushed angrily. “I forgot what it was like… lying to you.”
“You’re an easy read.”
Her scarlet cheeks darkened.
“Y’all gonna talk?”
Her hand moved from her ear, but as it did so, her foot began to sway ever so slightly back and forward. Jude watched it with an inward sigh. If Tameron knew anything about Spy Training, she’d know that she was breaking every subconscious signal in the book. Jude had always been able to sort of… sense a liar… but now, he had the specifics to work with. And it helped one hell of a lot.
“They were… hard.” Her voice surprised him. It was perfectly, softly, miserably pitched. “I struggled. I didn’t expect-” her voice broke, and Jude could swear he saw the beginnings of a glisten of a tear in her eye. A beautiful act. Flawless.
Well, it would’ve been… if what she was saying wasn’t so goddam ridiculous.
“Yeah,” Jude sighed, turning and sliding down on the bench next to her. “I don’t believe in dinosaurs either.”
“God!” she spat, the venom thick in her voice. “Maybe I just don’t want to tell you. Why should there be a reason? You just assumed there was. Never assume things, Jude. That’s the easiest way to make mistakes.”
“Oh, it’s no assumption,” he replied calmly. “If there wasn’t a reason for it, why did you bother making excuses?”
She leaned forward, a low cackle shuddering forth. “Oh, Jude. Yep. That’s right. Why did I bother?”
He waited patiently, and she waited too; both pairs of eyes watching the sunlight dance back and forth across the forest path in front of them. Jude could feel the back of his neck burning, and wondered vaguely if he should have put on sun cream before coming out. Instead, he lifted his Stetson from the ground where he had set it, and tilted it backwards at a jaunty angle, shielding his neck from the sun. Tameron glanced up at the hat.
“Where’d you get it, anyway?”
“I was given it.”
“Who gave it to you, then?”
“A friend.”
“Do I know them?”
“Hope not.”
“Why should I tell you anything,” she said suddenly, “when you tell me nothing?”
“You know about Ailith, don’t y’all?” he frowned. “That’s about the only worthwhile thing I’ve got to tell you.”
“Oh, you lovesick puppy,” she snorted. “How sweet. Next thing I know, you’ll be riding off into the sunset, with a ‘Just Married’ label pinned to the back of the horse.”
“Christ, no,” Jude laughed, “I wouldn’t use a pin. That’s bound to violate some animal right regulations.”
“Oh, take the mick then, like you always do,” she scoffed. “Well, Jude, I’m waiting.”
“For what?”
“Tell me,” she glanced at him. “If I told you the real reason why I didn’t pass my exams, what will you do?”
Jude’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I don’t know. It depends on the reason.”
“Lecture me?”
“No. I don’t… think so.” The brother boundaries had been drawn, after all.
“Hmmph,” she leaned backwards, looking skywards. “Alright, then. I trust you. The reason I failed… well… I didn’t answer a single question.”
He was startled. She hadn’t even tried? He couldn’t think of anything more un-Tameron. More… un-Academic. She adored getting those grades- she was an arrogant little cow at the best of times- a real gloater. So why didn’t she…? “Why?”
“Not one, stupid, bloody question!” she cackled again, “not a single stinking one! Why, Jude, I do declare- I sat that whole time, in every exam, every hour- just sat and didn’t put to pen to paper once!”
“Why the hell not?!”
“I decided to try not caring, Jude,” she replied smoothly, “there’s no point, is there? I mean really, exams… I already know what I know. Why should I have to prove it to anyone?”
“That’s not what exams are about, Tameron,” he muttered.
“Oho,” she giggled darkly, “then, what, pray tell, big brother, are they about?”
“Not screwing up your life.”
“Not… screwing…?” She stopped, shaking her head, and snorted. “You honestly think exams will make a hell of a difference?”
“Y’all want to do well, don’t you?” Jude stood up, feeling a wave of annoyance wash over him. “Christ knows you’ve got what it takes to do well.”
Tameron, fire blowing from her nostrils jumped to her feet, squaring up to Jude’s chest. “I’ll screw up my life however the hell I like.”
“Like hell you will, Tameron!” Jude clenched his fists. “I won’t let you screw your life up now. Why the hell should you? Don’t you know what I’ve done for-”
“No, Jude, funnily enough, I don’t,” she spat. “I’ll be d*mned if you did anything!”
“Stop it,” Jude shook his head. “Never mind. This is stupid. Why am I losing my temper?” Suddenly, he was nervous. “Tameron…”
“Oh, here it comes.”
“What comes?”
“The lecture,” the word lengthened into a sneer. “Now, now, young lady, don’t you know how important your exams are, and how much I’ve given you, and how great you could be if you just sat still, worked hard and behaved.”
“I-” he stopped. “I wasn’t going to say that.”
“You were halfway there!” Tameron cried viciously. “Y’all were thinking it- y’all wanted to say it! You couldn’t just leave it, could you?!”
“Of course I couldn’t,” he replied hotly, “I’m your brother, I-”
“Big brothers aren’t supposed to care,” she moaned, turning on the spot. “Parents care- big brothers don’t give a sh*t.”
“Says who?” he called after her. “Tameron- for god’s sake, Tameron, I don’t get it. Of course big brothers care.”
She stopped mid-step, and there was a horrible pause between them, in which Jude suddenly found himself to be breathless. Then, her head turned ever so slightly towards him, and he saw a strange smile planted there. “They shouldn’t have to, though.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Oh for god’s sake, Jude!” the venom was back. “You’re not my father. Stop acting like it.”
If she’d slapped him in the face, it couldn’t have stung more. Why… he didn’t… exactly… know. Just that… it hurt. The words fogged up his vision for a few, quick seconds, and he felt himself sway slightly on the spot. Apparently satisfied, Tameron left him on his own. She flounced off with another of those strange little, “hmmph” noises… for affect, maybe? He wasn’t sure.
You’re not my father…
No. He wasn’t. So what? Their dad had been a waste of space. A loser. A stupid, alcoholic, musically retarded-
Oh shut up. Don’t blame Dad.
Why was she talking about Dad?
What did Dad have to do with this… any of it?
It was one of those moments in which Jude envied telepaths beyond belief. Girls… often said… confusing things to him. Like Dakota- when they’d said their goodbyes… she’d… asked him something about Ailith. Something odd, that he still hadn’t been able to make sense of. But it hadn’t been like this. Not… something that just… got to him…
For the first time in a long time, Jude closed his eyes, and tried to clear the fog that swirled around Billy Dorrian’s old, leathery skinned face. Jude looked uncannily like him; he remembered, because they had the same dark brown hair, and the same build. Except there were these old… deep lines that circled his eyes, and there were several scars of mysterious origin that striped across the bridge of his nose. Billy Dorrian wore a hat too; and he wore it tipped far forward, so that you couldn’t see his eyes, and he strummed his guitar skilfully, but without any… soul. The music was wooden. Jude couldn’t remember if it had ever breathed any life, but it kept him happy, so that was okay. Billy was a distant figure. He never spoke to his son; nor his daughter; unless to dispatch the odd word of jumbled wisdom- or make some kind of random comment about their mother. Jude used to think that maybe he was trying to speak through the music… he just didn’t know how.
He didn’t know much about anything, really.
But Jude and his father were completely separate. Why would Tameron bring him up so randomly like that?
And why did the accusation- because that’s what it was, really, an accusation- get to him like that? Why did it… well, he shrugged, there was no other word for it… but why… did it… hurt?
His acute ears had already heard every detail of her awkward confession, even though he was a good few meters down the path. The words were… wooden, at best- well-practiced, yet oddly… flat. Clumsy. Off. It didn’t flow with her usual animated enthusiasm, nor did it sound in any way… convincing. Her own guilt, he supposed, must have stopped up her throat; and caused those so clever clogs in her brain to cease turning for a change.
Christ, he sure didn’t want to have to do this.
But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t.
“Hey, Tameron.”
“Jude!” she jumped up from her bench as he approached; her guilty cheeks coloring. “I- er- well, y’all heard all of that, didn’t you?” Quickly, she laughed, as though it was nothing.
His mouth didn’t twitch. “I don’t really it’s funny.”
“It’s hilarious,” she dropped her gaze, sitting back down slowly. “Sort of… ironic? An Academic- who can’t pass a single exam.”
Jude wasn’t sure how to answer her. Well, sure, he knew exactly what he wanted to say, but at the same time, a horrible awareness of just where his boundaries began and ended as her brother hung over him. After all, at Orchid Hill, the siblings lived their two separate lives. Jude had no right to tell her what to do. And yet…
“You’re better than that.”
Her eyes rolled. “Well, gee, y’all sure are perceptive.”
“Didn’t you know it?”
“Sure I did!” Tameron looked up fiercely. “I’ve done great this whole goddam year- better than you-” her eyes narrowed, “ – that’s for sure!”
“You’re smarter than me.”
She snorted. “Well, hell, really?”
“Then… why’d y’all go and fail like that?”
Her eyes grew oddly glassy. “Y’all make it sound like I did it on purpose.”
Jude smiled vaguely, but didn’t answer.
She closed her eyes for a couple of seconds, a small “hmmph” noise escaping her nostrils. “Because.”
“Because…?”
“Because…” She was struggling. Maybe she didn’t have an answer. He’d heard her gingerly honing her excuses to ‘perfection’. The real question was: which would she pick? Her hand moved slightly, scratching her ear as she met his gaze with a glare. “I underestimated it. The goddam things always have been easy, I thought I wouldn’t need to bother. So… I didn’t.”
Oh, that was bad. If she was pushed to those kind of measures, Jude was certain he didn’t want to hear the real reason. And… yet…
“That’s a lie.”
“How d’you know?” she barked. “Y’all ain’t in my head, for God’s sake! Y’all can’t just… eugh, just look at me or hear me or just… know.”
“Well, I do.”
Frustrated confusion clouded her face. “How?”
“Magic.”
“Oh, for fu-”
“Tameron,” Jude cut in quickly. “Come on, this isn’t hard- why did you fail?” Fail. ‘Tameron Dorrian - failure’. It didn’t quite compute. It was like saying, ‘Jude Dorrian - pirate’. It was… it was almost blasphemes.
And there was another self-conscious ear stroke. “Fine. Fine. Y’all wanna know? It was a guy. Happy? I have a boyfriend, and spent all my time with him instead of revising!”
Jude’s eyebrows rose. “You like Frank; and last I heard, he was going out with Carol.”
She pouted. “No, he ain’t.”
“Sure he is.”
“They broke up.”
“Really?”
“Some of his friends shouted he was done with her at her yesterday in the hall.”
“Prick!” Jude scowled. “There are some real pieces of works out there… Better off without him, Tam.”
“I don’t ruddy like Frank anymore!”
“Too right. He’s no good for you.”
“Jude!”
“Sorry,” Jude privately scolded himself for his distraction. “Why are you lying, then?”
She flushed angrily. “I forgot what it was like… lying to you.”
“You’re an easy read.”
Her scarlet cheeks darkened.
“Y’all gonna talk?”
Her hand moved from her ear, but as it did so, her foot began to sway ever so slightly back and forward. Jude watched it with an inward sigh. If Tameron knew anything about Spy Training, she’d know that she was breaking every subconscious signal in the book. Jude had always been able to sort of… sense a liar… but now, he had the specifics to work with. And it helped one hell of a lot.
“They were… hard.” Her voice surprised him. It was perfectly, softly, miserably pitched. “I struggled. I didn’t expect-” her voice broke, and Jude could swear he saw the beginnings of a glisten of a tear in her eye. A beautiful act. Flawless.
Well, it would’ve been… if what she was saying wasn’t so goddam ridiculous.
“Yeah,” Jude sighed, turning and sliding down on the bench next to her. “I don’t believe in dinosaurs either.”
“God!” she spat, the venom thick in her voice. “Maybe I just don’t want to tell you. Why should there be a reason? You just assumed there was. Never assume things, Jude. That’s the easiest way to make mistakes.”
“Oh, it’s no assumption,” he replied calmly. “If there wasn’t a reason for it, why did you bother making excuses?”
She leaned forward, a low cackle shuddering forth. “Oh, Jude. Yep. That’s right. Why did I bother?”
He waited patiently, and she waited too; both pairs of eyes watching the sunlight dance back and forth across the forest path in front of them. Jude could feel the back of his neck burning, and wondered vaguely if he should have put on sun cream before coming out. Instead, he lifted his Stetson from the ground where he had set it, and tilted it backwards at a jaunty angle, shielding his neck from the sun. Tameron glanced up at the hat.
“Where’d you get it, anyway?”
“I was given it.”
“Who gave it to you, then?”
“A friend.”
“Do I know them?”
“Hope not.”
“Why should I tell you anything,” she said suddenly, “when you tell me nothing?”
“You know about Ailith, don’t y’all?” he frowned. “That’s about the only worthwhile thing I’ve got to tell you.”
“Oh, you lovesick puppy,” she snorted. “How sweet. Next thing I know, you’ll be riding off into the sunset, with a ‘Just Married’ label pinned to the back of the horse.”
“Christ, no,” Jude laughed, “I wouldn’t use a pin. That’s bound to violate some animal right regulations.”
“Oh, take the mick then, like you always do,” she scoffed. “Well, Jude, I’m waiting.”
“For what?”
“Tell me,” she glanced at him. “If I told you the real reason why I didn’t pass my exams, what will you do?”
Jude’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I don’t know. It depends on the reason.”
“Lecture me?”
“No. I don’t… think so.” The brother boundaries had been drawn, after all.
“Hmmph,” she leaned backwards, looking skywards. “Alright, then. I trust you. The reason I failed… well… I didn’t answer a single question.”
He was startled. She hadn’t even tried? He couldn’t think of anything more un-Tameron. More… un-Academic. She adored getting those grades- she was an arrogant little cow at the best of times- a real gloater. So why didn’t she…? “Why?”
“Not one, stupid, bloody question!” she cackled again, “not a single stinking one! Why, Jude, I do declare- I sat that whole time, in every exam, every hour- just sat and didn’t put to pen to paper once!”
“Why the hell not?!”
“I decided to try not caring, Jude,” she replied smoothly, “there’s no point, is there? I mean really, exams… I already know what I know. Why should I have to prove it to anyone?”
“That’s not what exams are about, Tameron,” he muttered.
“Oho,” she giggled darkly, “then, what, pray tell, big brother, are they about?”
“Not screwing up your life.”
“Not… screwing…?” She stopped, shaking her head, and snorted. “You honestly think exams will make a hell of a difference?”
“Y’all want to do well, don’t you?” Jude stood up, feeling a wave of annoyance wash over him. “Christ knows you’ve got what it takes to do well.”
Tameron, fire blowing from her nostrils jumped to her feet, squaring up to Jude’s chest. “I’ll screw up my life however the hell I like.”
“Like hell you will, Tameron!” Jude clenched his fists. “I won’t let you screw your life up now. Why the hell should you? Don’t you know what I’ve done for-”
“No, Jude, funnily enough, I don’t,” she spat. “I’ll be d*mned if you did anything!”
“Stop it,” Jude shook his head. “Never mind. This is stupid. Why am I losing my temper?” Suddenly, he was nervous. “Tameron…”
“Oh, here it comes.”
“What comes?”
“The lecture,” the word lengthened into a sneer. “Now, now, young lady, don’t you know how important your exams are, and how much I’ve given you, and how great you could be if you just sat still, worked hard and behaved.”
“I-” he stopped. “I wasn’t going to say that.”
“You were halfway there!” Tameron cried viciously. “Y’all were thinking it- y’all wanted to say it! You couldn’t just leave it, could you?!”
“Of course I couldn’t,” he replied hotly, “I’m your brother, I-”
“Big brothers aren’t supposed to care,” she moaned, turning on the spot. “Parents care- big brothers don’t give a sh*t.”
“Says who?” he called after her. “Tameron- for god’s sake, Tameron, I don’t get it. Of course big brothers care.”
She stopped mid-step, and there was a horrible pause between them, in which Jude suddenly found himself to be breathless. Then, her head turned ever so slightly towards him, and he saw a strange smile planted there. “They shouldn’t have to, though.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Oh for god’s sake, Jude!” the venom was back. “You’re not my father. Stop acting like it.”
If she’d slapped him in the face, it couldn’t have stung more. Why… he didn’t… exactly… know. Just that… it hurt. The words fogged up his vision for a few, quick seconds, and he felt himself sway slightly on the spot. Apparently satisfied, Tameron left him on his own. She flounced off with another of those strange little, “hmmph” noises… for affect, maybe? He wasn’t sure.
You’re not my father…
No. He wasn’t. So what? Their dad had been a waste of space. A loser. A stupid, alcoholic, musically retarded-
Oh shut up. Don’t blame Dad.
Why was she talking about Dad?
What did Dad have to do with this… any of it?
It was one of those moments in which Jude envied telepaths beyond belief. Girls… often said… confusing things to him. Like Dakota- when they’d said their goodbyes… she’d… asked him something about Ailith. Something odd, that he still hadn’t been able to make sense of. But it hadn’t been like this. Not… something that just… got to him…
For the first time in a long time, Jude closed his eyes, and tried to clear the fog that swirled around Billy Dorrian’s old, leathery skinned face. Jude looked uncannily like him; he remembered, because they had the same dark brown hair, and the same build. Except there were these old… deep lines that circled his eyes, and there were several scars of mysterious origin that striped across the bridge of his nose. Billy Dorrian wore a hat too; and he wore it tipped far forward, so that you couldn’t see his eyes, and he strummed his guitar skilfully, but without any… soul. The music was wooden. Jude couldn’t remember if it had ever breathed any life, but it kept him happy, so that was okay. Billy was a distant figure. He never spoke to his son; nor his daughter; unless to dispatch the odd word of jumbled wisdom- or make some kind of random comment about their mother. Jude used to think that maybe he was trying to speak through the music… he just didn’t know how.
He didn’t know much about anything, really.
But Jude and his father were completely separate. Why would Tameron bring him up so randomly like that?
And why did the accusation- because that’s what it was, really, an accusation- get to him like that? Why did it… well, he shrugged, there was no other word for it… but why… did it… hurt?
