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"So this is him?" The young creature stares down the fence line and through a lit up window. A family having supper is illuminated by a chandelier light.
The creature, a young female has large dilated eyes and is dressed in what would seem like normal street clothes. Blue jeans worn snug against her legs with low cut converse to better confuse onlookers of her perfect stance. A grey hoodie is hanging loosely off her smaller set body, the hood has been blown off in the wind. The disturbing site is not her awkward body or youth hanging around a nice neighborhood, but her long luminous hair falling down over her shoulders. In this evening's moonlight, her hair appears to be a glowing blonde almost fair enough to pass as white. Noticing her hair had been exposed, she reaches her hands from the edge of the fence and pulls the hood back over her head.
"It is," on the other side of the fence is a man with a navy blue hood over his head and shading his face. His arms are crossed and pressed to his chest, leading to his shoulders in which are pressed against the fence.
Blue jeans with similar converses are on his feet in which are out stretched before him. In the shadows of the fence line, he barely needs to look up at the girl to follow her view of sight. Stretching his arms out and cracking his knuckles before looking back up at the girl.
"Now's not the time though," he steps away from the fence and looks up at the girl. "Come now, we have some business to do before tomorrow."
"Very well," placing her hands on the fence line, she uses them to stabilize herself while jumping down. "It's a shame what plan we decided to use a slow approach to things." She looks up at the boy and blinks her eyes in which adjust to a more normal pupil size where a thin iris of sapphire looks up at the man leading her away.
"Strategy is everything," with a simple answer she is silenced and they continue forward.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~
Swooping down, a boy with shaggy brown hair falls flat against one of two beds in the room. In the other bed is another bed with a sleeping boy with blonde hair and a fancy eye cover pulled over his eyes. Exhaling, the boy looks at the ceiling and reviews his studies.
Looking from the ceiling and down towards his desk he lets out a sigh. Besides the late hour, sleep cannot reach him peacefully with such a mess in the work space. The room, a tight and packed space, is set up as a dorm normally would. Of course, though a sleeping area, this room is anything but a dorm at a normal school.
The blonde boy who had been sleeping tosses in his sleep and slowly pulls himself to consciousness. Pulling away the blind fold, piercing ice blue eyes stare at the desk and make their way through the room to the other boy laying in the other bed.
Standing up in a fury, he walks towards the window across the room from the desk. Strong arms rip away the blinds and let the moonlight into the room. Now, calmer, he looks back around the room and has his eyes frozen on the other boy.
The other boy, having reacting to the piercing ice eyes on him, looks over at the other boy. A smirk crosses his face while he stares back up at the ceiling. The moonlight, having crossed the room, shines on the beds and fills the hearts within with a calming peacefulness.
This peacefulness, brings both of them to sit up on their beds parallel from each other and stare into each other’s eyes. The shaggy haired boys eyes, mimicking and changing from a grey color to match the ice color of the other's eyes. The silent calmness is disrupted as the blonde haired boy's eyes turn from an ice-blue to a soft orange. Now the sides of the room are uneven as a faint glow of orange rises from the east and in through the window.
Both looked from each other and out the window to the calm morning. The clash of the ice blue eyes and calm orange eyes have an output of a grey sky settling in from the north. Cracks of thunder in the distance slam around and echoed while distracting the sun's rising.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~
The unfriendly crash of thunder greets the morning, followed shortly by heavy rain. Thunder like a cannon bursting in the distance acts as a bass while followed by the snare of the rain hitting buildings and the streets. As the wind picks up, the sound of bells blowing in the wind echo down the street.
Busy as the morning is, rushes of crowds with umbrellas continue on their ways. Only one uniformed young child looks up to the sky and embraces the physical attributes of the rain-like drumsticks hitting the surface and quickly bouncing off and away, leaving a souvenir of their travels on a caring face. She does not beat or wipe away the subtle raindrops, but instead opens her eyes.
Rain falls into her soft grey eyes and brightens them a little as she starts humming a soft melody. Still, the surrounding rush of people continue as if this beautiful concert were not taking place in the busy streets.
"Hey!" Another girl wearing a dry and lighter blue uniform approaches the one humming.
The humming girl, being disrupted closes her eyes and looks back down at the other girl. Attempting to be friendly, she smiles and hears a softer sound of the rain falling on an umbrella rather than her face. Now, only now noticing, the uniforms are the same, only one has been soaked completely by the rain.
The other girl, wearing a white collared shirt has an over-coat very professional-like pulled over her shoulders. The blue of the coat is mimicked through a blue plaid skirt flowing down to the knees. High white socks bearing the school's seal cut off right below the knee and are greeted by plain black dress shoes. Her blonde hair is pulled back in tight French braids with blue ribbons tied at the ends.
Grey eyes look at the other girl, hair, now curling, falls soaked down the humming girl's back. Her uniform had been soaked and now appears as if she were more child-like and unprofessional than the other girl. They both begin walking down the street side by side.
"We're in the same class and I was needing some help with my arts studies and everyone suggested you." The blonde-haired girl continues to lead the way. "The trade off is I'll helkp you with your foreign language struggles."
"It sounds like a good tradeoff, I'll help." The humming girl agrees as they reach their academy's gates. Hundreds of other girls in the same uniform great them as they enter.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~
Rain falls in its vicious rage against the window, falling in rivers down to the bottom of the window and out of sight. Inside, a warm and dry class room, filled with a podium, white board, teacher and chalk board the class regrets taking notice of.
Nearly everyone in the classroom has taken off their navy blue jackets and sit with white button up shirts and black ties bearing the school's seal. The seal of the school is a classic for paneled sheild with a gorgon-looking horse behind it. Below the ivy of the seal is a string like script stating, "blue-gold boy's academy."
Besides the academy being one for boys, it originally was a Catholic private school for gifted female art students. It now specializes in art, languages, social sciences and is working its way into an outstanding mathematics education options. As well as expanding its education attributes, it extended the campus and added a dual gender academy with separated classes based on gender, age, and skills. Though the classes are not with boys and girls, they still can meet on their recesses to allow a more professional based friendship. The separation of gender provided less of a distraction and increased the amount of enthusiasm in class rooms.
A slam of a ruler on the podium bids the class to look forward, well, most of the class. One of the boys had been still staring out the window; he was close enough to see the girls who had just arrived for their first class. They all carried umbrellas which were so brightly colored that his eyes had been distracted. He had not noticed the door to the class room open and the introduction of a new student. Distractions, as well as no enthusiasm, kept him well apart from the rest of the class. The only empty desk however, was the desk to his right.
His brown eyes were plastered and reflecting the last bright colors of umbrellas before thy near completely disappeared. After his attention left the empty grounds, he noticed a note scribbled in the margin of his notes. It was the time his family normally ate dinner and the address of his house. Looking around the room he takes note of the student to the right of him.
Instead of wearing a white shirt under his school jacket, the student wore a light material, dark in color, hoodie with the hood pulled over his head. Messy dark brown hair escaped and framed his face, giving just enough cover to keep teachers from seeing his closed eyes. Slowly, they open, letting his handsome eye lashes to slowly reveal his dark brown eyes.
The direction of his sight is fixated on the child to his left which stares back at him. Not quite a glare or casual look is held between them, they do not take note of the teacher looking at the clock and assigning book problems. A 20 minute break is issued as a bell rings and the rest of the class gets up.
Distracted, the boy to the left gets up while closing his eyes and giving his head a brief shake. With books in hand, he tosses his jacket over his shoulder and begins walking towards the door. The other boy, having take notice follows closely after.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~
Following closely behind the disrupted boy, the boy with the hood pursues with the most natural look he could muster. It had been some time since he had been in a school, and an art school challenged his ability to meet standards far out of his experiences. This kid was pretty good at navigating through the school in a quick way to reach the library, which was virtually empty despite the recess. Apparently, the majority of students would rather spend time socializing rather than excelling in studies.
In some ways this would make his job easier, except for the sad fact that approaching should remain more of an inattention grabbing way at this time. Then again, calling his partner would make it seem as if they had just become friends and were meeting in the library. The thought pleased him as he pulled a silver flip phone from his pocket and dialed the first number on speed dial. Not even after the first ring, the phone was picked up.
"The library, now." After giving a command, he flipped the phone shut and tucked it into his black slacks. Sneaking into the library, he attempted to keep his distance while opening books on the shelves and only watching through his peripheral vision.
After a few moments and a few strategic page turns, the door to the library opened and a girl came in. She moved different from the other female students, it was almost as if she wasn't used to wearing shoes and the sensation on the floor as well as the noise made her eerie and she dealt with it in a child-like manner as if it were a game.
Her socks and school uniform were large for her short body and resembled her as a younger student trying to act older. Walking on the carpet she smiles while turning around and looking at the ceiling, to be truthful, this is the first time she had ever been in a library and it was a very magical place for her. Smiling, she closes her eyes and continues, the boy reading a book walks from where he was reading to approach her, noticing that her scene had brought the boy they were pursuing’s attention onto her.
As she turned again, her arms extended out. Her forearm immediately is stopped in motion and she is turned around to look at her partner who has a very stern look at her. Her smile, immediately disappears and is replaced with a pouting face as she looks back up at him. Soft blue eyes are about to hold tears and her blonde hair started changing colors under the light to mimic a natural blue sheen. The boy with shaggy brown hair pulls down his hood with his other hand, then pulling his hand down he presses his index finger against his lips.
"This is a quiet place ma'am," he smiles under his finger before letting go and returning to the book shelf. The girl, still shocked by the happenings looks down the shelves and finds the tables near the windows which holds the boy they were supposed to be watching.
Now, being stealthier, she sneaks beyond her partner to get a better look at the boy at one of the tables. He was sitting and peacefully reading a book and scribbling notes in a notebook. The girl, not very familiar with the script he was writing in, walks closer, this time nearly silent on the floor. She is nearly at the end of the book case and behind the boy when the top shelf's book case contents fall directly onto her, the surprise shock knocks her to the ground in where she acts as a deer in headlights.
The boy who was sitting immediately turns around just to catch the other boy leave the library. His sight then changes to the girl on the floor with books in which had fallen on her. Following classic human nature, he immediately rises and rushes over to her picking up some of the books. The second book he lifts from the floor, the girl immediately reacts reaching for it from him and holding it close against her chest while smiling up at him.
"Forgive me," a heavy accent follows her words as she stands up and looks at the floor around her. The mess shocks her again, she was being so quiet and yet her partner still caught her but made a difficult situation for her.
"You should ask for help," the boy stands up with a stack of books in his arms, "before grabbing books off the top shelf." Being taller, the boy starts placing the books on the top shelf while looking back at the girl. "You must be new here, what's your name?"
The girl, embarrassed and drawing a blank from her registered school name begins searching the aisles around her to see any word she would recognize, one of the books open on the floor has a familiar script but it looks as a translation dictionary into French, she looks for a pretty-like word. Looking down she starts sounding out the characters in her head and testing her lips before looking up again.
"Cerisier," she answers while blushing from the embarrassment and turning away. Calming herself she looks for her escape, there is no working librarian since the library is for student use. Which is why her partner most likely chose to continue pursuing him into this room. Brilliant strategy, if only he would warn her of his full plan.
"My name is Meine Martz, welcome to the school," he smiles while getting on his knees to grab the last of the fallen books, "this library is hardly ever used anymore. There is one on the second floor with more books and more students if you wish to socialize."
He rises from the ground and reaches over his head and places the last of the books back up on the shelf. Looking down over his arm he notices the girl's blue eyes still staring up at him even after his words. Looking, he lowers his arm and looks behind her at the clock in which stopped, avoiding eye contact he pulls his right wrist forward and pulls away his navy blue jacket revealing a wrist watch.
"I should get going, a good student shouldn't be late for class," he turns and looks back towards his books on the table. While turning his body, he notices one of his sleeves is caught in a gentle hold by child-like fingers. Turning, he looks questionably down at the girl again.
"It was a pleasure to meet you, sir Meine." She smiles big enough to squint her eyes. Dropping her hand she walks towards the table. "My friend is in your class, maybe we will become friends?" She tilts her head to the side before taking a few steps back and pulling out a small pink phone from her sleeves and looking at the screen.
She shares another smile before looking out the window and waving while leaving the library.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~
"We didn't know the classrooms were separate," the first words out of the hooded boy's mouth begins excusing the topic. "Sorry about disturbing you independent studies." He then turns away in attempt to keep the conversation from continuing.
"It's fine, your girlfriend is just a bit clumsy," Meine smiles, in attempt to be a bit generous and friendly. From the other boy's body language and tense reaction it is obvious that word usage was over looked.
"She's not my girl friend." His voice is calmer and soft compared to his harsh glare and obvious shock from seconds earlier. "To call her my sister would also be a misfit assumption, so I ask you not to. Just a shock of knowledge of separated gender classes."
"This is an arts school. We get lots of extra time throughout the day to do independent work or partner with other courses. Both academies follow the same lesson plan and group activities are combinations of the academies." Meine is cut off by the door to the classroom opening and the next instructor joining in.
Besides the time being for the next class, there were only 5 on time students. Classic happening among this age group, plus it is a mathematics course which is not required of art students. The importance is weighted lower, those in art courses are excused from science and mathematics courses.
The teacher, a shorter woman wears a suite and skirt with her hair tied back in a tight bun. Upon entering, she assigns students closer to the front of the class to write equations on the board as a warm up. Her height puts her in a fix, but those who stand in the classroom are obviously enthusiastic about taking this course.
Smiling, the teacher walks across the room and introduces herself to the new student and asks him kindly to remove his hood. In respect, he does exactly as instructed, upon removing his hood a flurry of hidden brown hair falls gently to the sides of his face. Although his hair had not been combed, it fell elegantly disheveled around his head. Something art students would race forward to get inspiration for their projects.
"Arsenio, it is great to have you join our small class. The entrance forms did have you in mathematics as not a mistake?" The instructor smiles back while leaning on an empty desk in front of the boys.
Arsenio, the formally hooded boy blinks his brown eyes a few times trying to pull together a few words. Removing his hood made his figure and character change nearly completely, instead of being threatening he appeared a kinder person. A charmer that would need no effort to court any woman.
"Mathematics is an important subject to look into. There is a certain pattern to any art, patterns are what human nature had studied in their down time. It would be a disgrace to the ancestries to look past an art they wrote down." Arsenio's voice is still smooth, his words roll of his tongue. Despite his disheveled hair, he would appear and seem like the best politician. One who wins debates not only from word choice, but the elegance in the pronunciation itself.
"How great, another member of our group," the instructor straightens up and looks at the board. Pulling wrinkles out of her skirt she begins walking towards the front of the room. "It will be a pleasure to study with another member."
Crashes from down the hall end all side chat conversations. From the shock, the male students writing on the board breaks the cheap expo marker. The ink drips down the board while furious footsteps sound outside the room. There is some sort of yelling going on out in the hall, where to no one could fully understand because of the acoustics of the building. The instructor, acting as if nothing happened, grabs a towel to catch the dripping ink and smiles while handing the student another pen to continue writing the equations out.
"We only have an hour, so let's not get distracted my friends," she smiles while keeping an unusual calm sense. She walks towards the podium and waits for the students to all be seated and quieted down. "Please get out last evening's homework; we will discuss any questions at this time."
There is a gentle knock on the door, dismissed and disregarded by the noise of students reaching through their things to muster up pages with small writing on them. Despite being ignored, the knock sounds again and the door swings open as one of the school directors walks in and immediately starts whispering with the instructor. They have a quick conversation whispering until the director exits the room and closes the door.
The silence of the class stares back up at the instructor. She smiles while squinting a bit, counting a bunch of seats and counting her fingers while looking around. She then turns around, grabs an expo pen and rolls onto the toes of her feet to reach the board better. Across the board she scribbles her name in a beautiful script, obviously she must teach an art class as well as mathematics.
Turning back around, she smiles again and grabs a glass off the podium, taking a quick drink she sets it back down. In attempt to keep her calm self, she lets off a small cough, catching it in her elbow.
"It seems that the mathematics teacher for blue-gold's girls’ academy has just left our academy. For an experimental purpose, the directors decided to use our course for combining the academies in class. Never the less, this will not halt our establishment of a permanent math course at this school." Her words are very direct and hardly even emotion filled. If not for her smile, she would be a classic history teacher everyone thinks about for a snore.
There is a slight shuffle between the desks as the boys gather themselves. Only club work is usually combining the academies, never a class. The experience would be a rush for perhaps anyone to wrap around, which is most likely for the emotionless words from the instructor.
The continuous silence is disturbed by the opening of the door. In walks three female students, each a little hesitant at first. They are immediately let in and asked to seat wherever they please. Once they safely sit down, two more students enter the room. A girl with tight blonde French braids and the girl earlier introduced as Cerisier. Under the light in the room, her hair is more yellow than blue, and her eyes look a little soft while noticing Arsenio.
With enthusiasm, she smiles and begins walked with a slight swing as if a child waltzing into a candy store. She swings her hair and lets it fall all around her while taking a seat directly by Arsenio.
Arsenio, noticing her gives her a dry look. It isn't quite a glare, but it is a far thing from the smile she is sharing with him. Meine, sitting to Arsenio's left smiles at her to welcome her into the classroom. Besides Cerisier, all the other females took seats closest to the door. The instructor quickly introduces herself and begins teaching.
After the mathematics course the class split off to take their language and arts courses. The soft sound of bells release the classes and emerge the world with the start of the evening.
Meine, walking slowly and calmly, closes his immense history of the arts book and stands from his seat. Stretching up with his arms he looks outside and at the sky. The morning had started off with storms, but now there is a beautiful sun in the sky with a rainbow. Taking in the scenery for a little bit, he turns and looks back at his desk.
While scooping his items into a plain backpack, he begins retracing the last class's conversations and assignments. After grabbing the last of his books and slipping it into his bag, he zips it close and pulls it on his shoulders. Turning towards the door he is greeted by a woman in school uniform directly in front of him. She smiles and looks closer at him to achieve eye contact.
"Can I help you?" Asking his question, he takes a step back and allows more space between a rather awkward moment. Getting a more distal look, he recognizes her even though her hair has turned to a softer red and almost orange color. "Oh, it's you, how was your first day here?"
"It was great," she smiles while taking a step closer to him and smiling while keeping eye contact. "I'm glad I made a friend, but I just seem to be lost with something." She turns to the side and grabs a large book from behind her back where a bag must have been. "It's just what we discussed in mathematics, and Arsenio isn't a good teacher." She swings the book up with both hands on either side of the book. Looking up at it her smile disappears and is replaced by a serious look.
"I don't know if I'd be much of a help," Meine reaches over her hands, grabbing the book. His pinky barely touches her index finger and she automatically drops her hold.
Smoothly, Meine opens the book, resting the spine of the book in his left hand. With his right hand, he slowly turns the pages and rests his fingers on a line in the book. Turning, he looks down at the girl and bends over a bit so she could see what he was pointing at.
"These are really simple, just convert them into the metric system and then solve." Meine continues explaining while using a few examples from the homework assignment. While the girl looks down and studies, he slips his cuffs back to look at his watch. "If I stay any later I might be late for supper."
"If it is alright, I can buy you some food if you explain the rest of this. That is if it wouldn't be too much trouble, I could always bring up these questions in class tomorrow," she begins quickly taking the books and closing them while taking steps back. "I shouldn't keep you from your family, but if you can spare time I would be forever grateful."
"I can, I am ahead in most of my studies anyways." Meine releases his cuff and lets it fall gently over his watch. Carefully, he begins buttoning his jacket around him and grabbing some of the books from the girl. "It would be unhonorable if I didn't help you," he smiles down at her and leads her to the door. "It's not every day I meet new people who can be helped."
"Thank you, I'm new in town so I don't know anywhere good to study. I'll make sure I get some money from Arsenio, he should still be waiting in the hall, we'd best get a move on so school is still attend able tomorrow." She smiles and quickly leaves the door, immediately tripping over the carpet and falling into Arsenio.
"Ceri!" Arsenio raises his voice as they both fall to the ground from the impact and surprise. Meine, walking into the hallway trips over the carpet as well and barely catches himself before falling onto the two already on the ground.
Cerisier's eyes are closed and she has a fisted hand on Arsenio's chest. She had been spooked from tripping and the position of where Arsenio was standing. They stay still in shock for some time.
Arsenio sits up and rubs his head with his left hand while balancing his weight and Cerisier's weight with his right. The combined weight seems as if nothing for him to hold up. After running his fingers through his hair one last time, he places a flat hand on Cerisier's shoulder. She unclenches her fist and smoothly calms down enough to stand up.
"I'm sorry, I didn't see," she begins excusing her mistake only stopping when noticing his hand still on her shoulder. Noticing this, she turns a bright shade of red. Arsenio immediately drops his hand and looks away out a few windows. Cerisier backs up, clumsily bumping into Meine and stepping forward a few steps.
"I decided we're having ramen for dinner, thank you Meine for helping," Arsenio begins walking down the hall. He stalls waiting for Cerisier to catch up with him, after a while her absence forces him to turn around and make eye contact with her.
"I invited Meine to join us for supper so we could study further. If that is alright," she looks back at Meine who nods his head in approval. Cerisier then smiles, walking back to loop her arm into Meine's in order to lead him. "Since you'd rather not let me, I made a friend." Smiling, she watches as Arsenio turns around again.
Sighing while turning slowly, he pulls his hood over his head to shade his face. Cerisier's blush has no completely disappeared while watching this short transformation. Arsenio pulls out his thin flip phone and quickly dials a number, keeping his voice down as he holds a conversation. After flipping the phone shut he begins walking towards the stairwell.
"No more wasting time, they're delivering in an hour." Arsenio opens the stairwell door and turns to look over at Meine and Cerisier. "I'd hate to keep Meine away from his personal life."
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~
The hall light turns on and shines through the cracks in the walls. Two men earlier staring out the window were now asleep in their separate beds. The blonde one gets up even though a sleep mask had been pulled tight over his face. He turns over and slips the mask over his right eye just in time to watch foot shadows walk across the hall outside of the room.
Slipping from the bed, he wakes the other boy and points to a far wall. The other man sits up in his bed, getting up quickly to grab a thin notebook. They immediately move furniture from the wall. They begin listening and writing things down. With their eyes closed, focus is maximum.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~
The natural metronome and accompany of rain had stopped hitting the window. In response, it seemed barren in this empty music room. All club and extra work had been completed leaving only one girl entering the empty stage.
She had just finished her bargained tutor session, but had not felt the day was done. Sitting down on a bench in front of the piano, she begins humming. The same tune the rain and wind were performing earlier. Opening her eyes, her fingers trace over the familiar ivory keys. Biting her lips, she straightens her back and lets her fingers work their way through various chords.
The instruments of her orchestra had been warmed up, on the right side of her keys she plays the accompanying raindrops falling softly to the ground. As her storm of a composure progresses, the rain treks down the keys to the left to support the bass crash of thunder. Adding in a bell-like tune on the right, the wind enters the composure. starting soft of course, but soon to work its way into the crescendo of the middle.
The beautiful, and yet rough noise remarks and plays well together in the quiet room. Even when disturbed by the opening of a distant door, she continues to play. Not stopping until her composure ends with a furry of speed and the final clash of lightening striking the earth and destroying the stage around holding the natural instrumental of wind and rain.
After her borrero of composure, she opens her eyes and turns around. Without an emotion on her face, she looks into the harsh eyes of her audience. They look back in a peaceful manner, even though their eyes hold a history. When eyes hold a history, there is normally something great to be feared, but nevertheless, she rises to her feet and performs a short curtsy.
"It's a shame," the audiance straightens himself to look taller, "that such a wonderful performer would have a family mixed up in such horrible things."
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~
Cerisier picks up a cheap brand of chopsticks and breaks them. Looking down at the cheap ramen, she lets the smell of beef broth fill her nostrils before swirling ramen noodles through the two thin sticks. The apartment is still full of boxes with most items still packed away, which gives excuse for the cheap order in meal.
The apartment was small, but was way too nice for two students to be able to pay for alone. In the living area, there is a small coffee table with no chairs around. Meine and Cerisier had been sitting on floor cushions while studying over courses such as social sciences and mathematics.
Arsenio, had left a few times unpacking various things. Obviously he is not in a studying mood. However, he is never gone too long. Eventually through his rummaging, his uniform jacket disappears as well as his tie, leaving a plain white button down shirt beginning to unbutton, revealing a plain under shirt. His hooded jacket had also been removed revealing a much softer look on him.
After Meine and Cerisier had closed their books and began being interested in their ramen, Arsenio stopped to sit and eat with them. He sits on the other side of the coffee table staring into the two foot gap in between Meine and Cerisier. Staring back at the table, he pops the plastic lid off a cardboard bowl and looks down at the ramen.
"It appears Cerisier is very loyal to you," he begins while changing his gaze from the ramen to Meine, "she never listens to a word I say."
"I do so!" Cerisier stands up in a fury, staring down at Arsenio she continues. "I listen to every human being and treat them as equals!" Raising her voice she looks down at him as his lips curl into an evil sort of smile.
"That's why you're yelling at me and not at Meine." Arsenio's smile remains on his face when he picks up his chopsticks and begins eating the ramen. "I think it is about time you start getting ready for bed, I'll walk Meine home once he is done."
Cerisier, listening to Arsenio heeds his words and picks up the empty dishes. She faces Meine to give a quick nod of thanks when disrupted by her phone chiming a sweet anthem. Quickly excusing herself, she walks off beyond the living room and towards the bedrooms.
"Are you finished?" Arsenio stands up while grabbing a hooded jacket from a wall hook. "I'd hate to worry your family."
"Its fine," Meine rises to his feet and pulls his bag over his shoulders. "Being a tad-bit social isn't going to kill me."
He follows Arsenio's direction towards the door, where Arsenio lets Meine give simple directions to his house. Once a few blocks away from Arsenio and Cerisier's apartment, Meine begins a light conversation.
"You are very elegant to hide your more curious questions. Society must be flattered by that of you." Arsenio has his hood pulled over his face while contributing to Meine's rather small talk conversation.
"And society is not flattered by you?" Meine laughs while thinking his words over to himself. "The hallways were quite accustomed to viewing you for a pretty moderate time." Meine; moreover, compliments Arsenio for his some-what unflattering and rude contribution. "I would say you flatter society, at least the women of the society."
"Flattering is a characteristic developed by a character through actions, not the natural appearance." Arsenio begins educating Meine who has a smile on his face. "I cannot please society by simply being a visual item, it does not support a worth-while reason, only temporary."
"Your visual attribute is one that 'swoops away,' many people's minds. I do believe Cerisier even blushed at the sight and touch of you." The sound of Cerisier's name stops Arsenio in his tracks. Meine continues supporting his claim with examples. "A painting is a visual art with no actions, yet Picasso gives so much inspiration." Slowly, Meine turns back around to view at Arsenio.
His head is looking down, pulling the hood a little higher on his head, revealing more of his hair. Even in the late evening moonlight, he would appear fascinating and rather attractive to a female. Looking up again, his eyes look glass like as he begins walking again.
"Cerisier is not of significance to me in such a foreign subject." Arsenio blows off Meine's assumption quickly to catch up with him, hoping for a topic change.
"You also suggested she was not your sibling, I wonder, if not too quaint," Meine waits for the never approving thought of a nod from Arsenio bidding him to go on. "What is Cerisier to you?"
Arsenio is silent as they continue walking onwards. Around the street corner a familiar house to Meine is envisioned. Meine slows his pace hoping for an excuse of an answer from Arsenio. When none is presented, he continues on normally only to stop at the door.
"Thank you for walking me home," Meine fishes a key from his pocket and inserts it in the lock. "I hope I have not offended you." He begins turning the knob.
"Cerisier is like a best friend, only a lot closer." Meine is shocked by Arsenio who is also shocked at his own words. Arsenio quickly covers his mouth with a hand and clears his throat with a quick cough. "I mean to say, you are welcome and you didn't offend."
"There is no need to be embarrassed," Meine smiles while opening the door. "I know you needed an outlet and I couldn't care less what Cerisier is to you. But you can't care more figuring out what she is to you." He steps into the house and smiles back. "Have a good evening," calmly, the door shuts and Arsenio is abandoned in the night air.
Silence falls over the small neighborhood with the occasional bark of a dog followed by disturbed cat fights. Arsenio stands in this silence staring only at the door in which Meine had disappeared through. Forever, just staring, dumb-founded of how wise and well Meine could read people. Even one as keep-self as Arsenio. Lost in his thoughts, Arsenio lacks to hear his phone ringing. After some time it begins to ring again.
Even after picking up the phone, he can't even muster together enough impulses to feed his motor neurons to speak. After picking up, the other side of the line has Cerisier's quick voice repeating numbers and various codes. Some time passes and she begins to repeat, Arsenio clears his throat with a quick cough again.
"Trade me duties this evening," he hangs up the phone and slides it into his pocket. Looking away from the door, he looks up to the sky at the waxing crescent moon, shaded slightly by clouds.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~
After being moved from the orchestra room, the semi short woman was placed in the back of a plain SUV. The radio had fuzz and lacked any potential value of playing the slightest tune. In frustration with the silence and no elegy or sonata to hum with, she glares straight into the rearview mirror. Frustration hits the driver and he then begins to adjust the mirror.
"I have a CD in my bag, may we please listen to Mozart or smooth jazz?" Her voice is shy but also holds a sort of whine.
"I was already forced to listen to your horrid classic music this evening," the driver adjusts the mirror and glares. "I'm not particularly fond of instrumentals or classic music." A sort of muffled sigh comes from his seat as he studies the road and pulls over. "I just lost my place and sense of direction."
"If I can't listen to classics, will you put any kind of tune on? I'm fond of all music so your rebel of society wouldn't offend me." She smiles, trying a different approach. Obviously working when the driver tunes in the radio to a local rock station. Closing her eyes, she attempts to catch a familiar pattern in the tune.
Smiling, she relates a classic rock song that mimics an older version of a jazz melody. Being overcome with familiarity, she begins snapping on the even or more accented beats. Using her trained ear, she pulls out a few solos and recognizes the chords.
"This would sound better with a bass trombone playing with the bass guitar, with stronger accompany by piano. The percussion is brilliantly accenting the solo instrument which is amazing! What is this composure's name?" Smiling, she still has her eyes closed and keeps time with her right foot.
"Crazy, most classical music players refuse to even dial to a more modern station." The driver has a smirk while turning the volume up a little.
"When jazz was first created, it was banned from restraints. The scrutiny was horrible, but it brought up a new lively age, in opinion." Speaking now without a white, she connects more with the driver. "This tune is a classic beat from that era, do they truly still judge it?"
"Everyday as Satan's hymn." The driver explains a more moderns and social issue based off opinion as music.
"A concert C chord can't be used in a devilish song, the mood wouldn't be right. The foolishness of judges makes them ignorant to the boldly placed facts." She smiles letting the chorus beat take her on an inspirational journey into a newer, more socially ignorant-filled world.
The driver makes a sharp turn cutting off the lane to his right. Even the accidental sharp and flat horns are on beat and add to the splendor. He pulls into an alley between two fairly large office-like buildings. The office buildings stand out in the more ghetto-like neighborhood.
"Not to be too personal, but you're a good kid and I need the money for my wife's surgery. I hope your father bails you out, I am curious to what kind of musician you will become." The driver unbelts his seat and starts to open his door.
"You should leave," the girl begins speaking quickly. The driver turns and closes the door to hear her better. "Knowing my rash family, once you drop me off, go to your wife. Don't stick around." After further explaining, she unbelts herself. Smiling she cooperates while stepping into the evening air.
"You seem to know the actions of your family?" The driver asks while helping her into the building, she smiles at him once inside.
"This is the third time this rival company has attempted to use a ransom to stop my father's business. The third time is the charm; you don't want to see what will become of this place." She smiles, leading herself down the halls to a familiar room to her.
In the room is a beautiful ivory piano with a cushioned bench. She turns around to nod at the driver who closes the door and locks it. Turning, she studies the keys of the piano before sitting down and starting to play a tune mimicking that of the one on the radio.
Playing softly the tune over and over again, it slows and fades away. Quickly replaced by the familiar sound of raindrops, again she begins playing her own special composure in which started her day originally. This time, the composure is longer and works quicker, the storm is rougher and the rain falls harder.
In time the door to the room starts to open during the song. As she had done before, she continued playing her song and letting her fingers kiss every possible key it could. The footsteps of the audience disrupts the beat, the offbeat bass ruins the song and she stops quickly, smashing her fingers on the keys and making an unnatural horrid sound.
"Johannes? My name is Arsenio, your father hired my company to fix his business dispute and bring you safely home."
Johannes, the brown haired pianist turns around. Her gray eyes mimic and unfulfilled song writer in which she stares down her disruptor.
His shirt had a few rips and was covered by a cheap jacket with a hood pulled over his face. The bed head brown hair still fell around his face and brought the attention to his brown eyes which mimic a maple tree's bark in the lightening of the room.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~
"A beautiful morning," Cerisier stretches her right arm up into the sky and breathes in the fresh morning air. The scent of rain still lingers in the streets, which were just starting to wake up to the clouded sky.
"Now we're going to be late since your rondevue was late as well as your need to go through countless minutes of grooming." Arsenio walks ahead a few steps leaving Cerisier in his steps. "I only hope in your clumsy setting you remembered to pack lunch. Since you forgot to serve breakfast this morning."
Cerisier stands in place, looking down from the clouded sky down at Arsenio who had been walking forward. He stops and turns back when noticing she wasn't following him. Brushing his hair back from his eyes with his hand he gives a side gaze at Cerisier.
"You did pack us a lunch," Arsenio's eyes began to fill with a thin fluid like layer giving a watery appearance. "Didn't you?"
"Not everyone can get up and look flawless like you." Cerisier stops stretching and begins walking, her view stained on her feet while trying to hide her embarrassment. "Forgive me, for I forgot to bring a lunch, I usually only eat a meal a day in the evening."
Fleur Courtisee · Sun Jul 15, 2012 @ 12:44am · 0 Comments |
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