“A book with no name, no author nor any lines, you say? Hmm…”
“Perhaps that someone ought to have read it? You must remember that no book in existence cannot tell a tale. The conception of the text itself to the hands that held it speaks a story in itself. Why was the book placed there, then? And by whom? What was to be their goal?”
“See, Hana, there is always a story to be read. As for whom…perhaps the wayward traveler may find it!”
{ ✘♟✘ }
❝ …Guess you’re right- whoever found it, the wayward traveler or whoever, would be pretty unlucky, though. ❞
❝ To have a book with no content, only the stuff behind it…you’d have to have a bit of imagination and determination to figure all that stuff out, right? ❞
❝ …That is, if you could even figure out that the book was empty. It’d probably be ruined by the elements, and maybe you’d think that maybe there actually was once something in the book- but really, there would be nothing, just washed out pages to make you think that there was something when there was… ❞
❝ 'If someone lays a book down in the middle of a field, and the book has no name, and the book has no author, and the book has no lines to it…who will read it?‘ ❞
“An Apple?” Whiteface queries also. Oh! That red-skinned fruit that had a wonderful crunch to it! “Well…I don’t think I should be the one to ask for that. I don’t have a sense of taste. Atleast not in the same sense as you.” Whiteface tells her. He could only ever taste food from his own realm: anything less tasted bland to him. The only exception to this was royal milk tea.
“Did you want me to ask some of my friends? Maybe Polka might know…” Whiteface replies, relaxed and calm about him. “They have better taste buds than I, so maybe they’d know! Why did you ask, anyways?”
{ ✘♟✘ }
Hesitant is smile, again, nervous in being, yet it is still present on features. Unnerved by the thought of asking another whom she has had no contact with, she quakes in slightest amount; though by all means is it unnoticeable, she tries to make it so for the sake of the other beside her. Voice, however, betrays emotion anyway, with it’s slight decrease in volume and cheer.
❝ Aha, yeah…maybe I will …if they’re trustworthy… ❞
Question befuddles her for moments before correction of it dawns in copious amounts.
❝ Um…I can’t eat. I haven’t eaten for years n-not that I need to, though… ❞
❝ Hey, uh, Whiteface? ❞ nervous, perhaps, but curiosity plays upon her weakest point. Meaning for question to be answered, she fiddles with her hands for a bit, making sure she has the other’s attention. Query is then left from her lips for retrieval within the consciousness and purpose to be pieced together.
“Of course. But it really isn’t!” In all honesty Whiteface was a bit offended that she believed his respect to stem solely from such. He really did respect and like her for who she was! Then again…he was used to experiencing such stigma, given what kind of person ‘he was’.
“I’m kind to you merely because I feel everyone deserves to feel kindness!” His smile, in turn, seems uncertain in a way. Did he truly have the courage to feel that way, despite the demons of his past? Including…him?
“So! What have you been up to, regarding tombs anyways?” Whiteface asks curiously.“
{ ✘♟✘ }
❝ Just…wandering. ❞
Girl is jolted in sudden change of topic, and seeks to regain balance in term of speech. Quietly, answer recedes into self deprecation, no matter subtle, but still conspired within the hints of accent in her language.
❝ It’s all I ever do…I’m quite boring, in that fact, I guess. ❞
❝ Sorry, if you wanted something more interesting. ❞
send ✖ and I will give you a fear that my character has in dealing with yours
she’s actually afraid of whiteface getting tired of her. he’s pretty much the first entity she’s met and established positive relations with, and she doesn’t want to lose that.
“It’s only natural to be kind, you know!” Whiteface tells her, assuredly with a smile on his face. “Besides, You were kind to be too, so it’s only right that I am kind to you also!” Whiteface tells her with a kindly smile.
{ ✘♟✘ }
❝ Aha…I guess, if it’s like you said… ❞
❝ But…you don’t have to be kind to me only because I was kind to you. If that’s the only reason…then, that’s not really a good reason, right? ❞ skewed words falls uncertainly, passing through lips, refusing to heed, unaware of their implication.
“Ah! I’m not quite as uncomfortable being inside them myself, actually! The great halls of Nyhargo resembled a Mausoleum, spending some of my time administering my kingdom there granted me some familiarity of the rather eerie space there!”
“If you want, I can come with you everytime you go to a tomb. After all, you’re much more secure when you have someone by your side, right?”
{ ✘♟✘ }
❝ …I…uh, have to live in one actually…so I’m used to it… ❞
❝ Ah, thank you for the offer though! It’s nice to know that some people are kind. I don’t get that often… ❞
Her derisive laughter cut through his deliberative reverie. His smile easily falters, having well realized the truth. She must have felt that he may have insulted her in insinuating such. How contemptible it must be, for him to have uttered something so thoughtless and rash. Or was it merely his…optimism, in hopes that everything can be changed for the better…despite having known that it was never the case…
The shattering of the jar was reminder enough that the words he spoke…should have never been said. It sounded like the arrogant sarcasm of a haughty person looking down upon the fragile young girl. He needed not to tell it was a facade to see her bitter, empty smile. Oh, he could only begin to wish that she could forgive him for his careless, callous words!
“I…am sorry.” he could only mutter lowly, gaze fixed low to stare at the shattered jar. In reality, he knew…that a thousand folded stars could not end all the hatred, all the malice in the world. Yet…he wanted to believe…as foolish as that may seem. “…It does. To know that someone is by your side, listening and eager to hear you out…it does.”
After all…he spent near eternity all alone in the darkness, confined to a dark room with a noose and a stool available to him… “I..What…happened?” he asked, partially not wanting to hear how she came about to this state. “If…you want. I’ll tell you…all about myself.”
{ ✘♟✘ }
Optics tilt ever downwards at the boy’s phrases, anxiousness wracking her rotted insides. It was as if thousands of tiny insects were eating at her spirit now, rather than her cremated ashes of a body, and they were crawling, crawling around…burrowing into her innards and making themselves comfortable as if they’d be there for a while. She wants to tell him, she really does, but her feelings…they told her otherwise.
She shouldn’t listen to them, she knows that
But she can’t do it, she can’t do anything.
Can she?
Innards stricken by rows and rows of chimerical insects become neutral. She can’t feel them, she won't allow herself to. For the moment, her courage was being regained. Perhaps slowly, but certainly surely.
Slowly, throat swallowing despite the lack of need for it, she raises a single appendage to point to a seat nearing the edge of a brothel of trees. Another, truer smile perches itself upon a delicate countenance teetering between that and a frown precariously.
Ah! It was such a large group this time! Unsurely, she waves at the people she knows- biting her lip anxiously at the people she didn’t. Oh, she was nervous- so nervous! Her stomach almost felt as if it were turning!
